Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes Seungmin wondered how his life had turned out this way. 

It had all been fine when he was younger, he’d just wake up, eat, go to school, come home, sleep, and repeat. His parents were extremely controlling and had never been particularly loving, but as long as his grades were good, Seungmin was allowed to fixate on the only thing that had ever caught and maintained his interest: technology. 

That in and of itself wasn’t a dangerous hobby, but Seungmin had longed for a way to get out from under his parents thumbs for as long as he could remember, so when an opportunity arose involving his interests with the promise of excitement he dove headfirst into a world he didn’t fully understand. 

And the next day, he’d woken up a criminal. 

If only he’d known it would’ve all landed him here, hiding under a bridge with no computer, no phone, and nowhere to go. 

Shivering, Seungmin curled up into a tight ball, shielding as much of himself from the wind as he could and hiding the parts he couldn’t from view of the street. He had tucked himself into the furthest corner of the cold, metal catwalk hanging off the underside of a random bridge, hoping it would be enough to keep him hidden from the officers he’d heard searching for him for the last few hours. 

If only he still had his computer, he might’ve been able to do something about his current situation, but no, he’d had to abandon it and all the rest of his equipment when the cops had raided his apartment. They’d been smart to do it so late at night, Seungmin supposed most normal people were usually asleep at three a.m., but thankfully he did most of his work at night (and he had proximity alarms). 

Regardless, he guessed he should be thankful he wasn’t sitting in a cell right now. Lord knows the cops had found enough evidence in his apartment to put him away for a very long time. 

Alright, stop feeling sorry for yourself Seungmin. You’re a genius, if you don’t like your situation, find a way out of it. 

Seungmin shook his head, but the words rang true. He’d gotten himself into this situation, he was going to have to get himself out of it. 

Groaning at his cramping muscles, Seungmin slowly maneuvered himself out of his tight corner and swung his backpack over one shoulder. When the police had broken in, the bag had already been hidden under one of the floorboards in his bedroom, packed and ready for a quick getaway if he ever needed one. He might only be 18, but he wasn’t stupid; he’d been in this line of work for long enough to know the importance of a backup plan. 

Seungmin carefully climbed down from the ledge he’d found and stood on the street, idly watching people pass by as he thought through his options. He’d been running in these kinds of circles for a few years now, so he did have a few contacts, but would they actually help him? 

That was a different question. 

They were criminals after all. 

Best case scenario, one of them might give him a warm place to sleep and access to the internet for long enough to set himself up with something. Worst case scenario, Seungmin figured they might throw him out in the cold again, but that’s where he was right now, so he really didn’t have anything to lose. 

He supposed his best idea was to just show up at someone’s house, so Seungmin checked to make sure he hadn’t been noticed and started walking. However, a bigger problem immediately presented itself. 

He didn’t know where the hell he was. 

In his panic a few hours earlier, he’d just run without paying attention to his surroundings. His whole focus had been on losing the cops tailing him, he hadn’t exactly been concerned with making sure he knew where he was. That hadn’t been a problem before, but it sure was one now. 

“Uhhhh…” Ok, new plan. Seungmin stopped and turned in a circle, hoping a solution would just present itself without any work on his part. The only thing he saw was a small coffee shop tucked in the middle of a cozy street, likely the only one open at this time in the morning. Well, if he couldn’t walk to one of his contact’s safe houses, he was going to have to call them. 

Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. Acting wasn’t his strongest suit, but it had gotten him what he’d needed in the past. Thankfully, the only person he saw working was a young girl, probably about the same age as him, likely gullible enough to fall for whatever mediocre performance he could pull together. Regardless, it wasn’t like he had another option. So, Seungmin walked into the shop, a bright bell ringing as he opened the door. The barista looked up and smiled. 

“Good morning! Can I get you anything?” Seungmin slipped into his role, bringing a sheepish smile to his face and rubbing the back of his neck as if he were embarrassed. Which he was, so that helped. 

“Do you have a phone I could use? I’m new to this city and I might have gotten myself lost.” The girl looked at him sympathetically before nodding slowly, setting down the mug she had been cleaning. 

“Yeah sure, there’s a phone in the back, but it’s just a landline. Do you know the number you want to call?” Seungmin froze for a second, thinking about it. Did he have a number written down? He took his backpack off, opened it, and rummaged around before he pulled a small notebook out and set it on one of the small tables ringing the shop. 

“My mom always told me it was a good habit to write down any phone numbers I might need.” Seungmin said, trying his best to keep up his act. The barista chuckled and gestured for him to follow. 

“The phone’s in the back.” She turned, ducking behind a curtain and holding it up as Seungmin hurried to follow, hoping she would give him some privacy while he called. It might get a little awkward if she didn’t. 

Humming, Seungmin opened his notebook as he waited for her to move the boxes blocking their path, flipping through pages and pages of random notes and equations—this notebook basically held his entire life. He’d been lucky that he’d been holding it when the cops decided to break his door down. 

Finally, he stumbled across the page he was looking for. The note he was after was tiny, squeezed in between one of his grocery lists and a random idea he’d had for a code. It was really only there because of a fleeting thought he’d had a few months ago when he scribbled it down—you’ll be so glad to have this if you need it one day. Turns out he’d been right. Off to the side of the number a name was scribbled, barely legible, but Seungmin knew exactly what it said. 

It was the name of one of his old contacts, someone he hadn’t talked to in months.

Lee Know.

“Here it is.” Seungmin startled out of his thoughts, slamming his notebook shut out of reflex. The girl narrowed her eyes for a split second before gesturing to the phone mounted on the wall and moving back towards the counter. 

“Don’t take super long, my boss doesn’t like letting customers stay without them buying something.” Seungmin nodded in automatic agreement before her words actually registered, but once they did his face brightened and he reached into his pocket, searching for his wallet. 

“Could I get a muffin?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin leaned against the wall and took a deep, steadying breath. It wasn’t like he had a bad relationship with Minho; in fact, he was one of the few people who had been trusted with his real name, but Seungmin was still nervous. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any other option. 

Steeling himself for the conversation, Seungmin pushed himself off the wall and picked up the phone, staring at the old device resting in his palm. 

His hands were shaking. 

Seungmin wasn’t scared, he was just… hesitant. Minho had already saved him once, back when all he’d needed was for someone, anyone, to give him a chance to prove himself, and Seungmin had thrown it back in his face. He really didn’t know how Minho would respond to him barging back into his life again after so long. 

Back when he was a kid, it hadn’t exactly been Seungmin’s intention to become a criminal. Hacking had just been a way he could make some money doing something he loved from the safety of his apartment. It hadn’t mattered to him who he was working for or how his hacks were being used. 

But it hadn’t stayed that easy for long.

His parents had noticed something. He didn’t know how, but they saw something had changed and went digging, slowly figuring out what their son was really doing on his computer.

Seungmin vividly remembered the day they came into his room in a fit of rage, smashed his computer and threw him out on the street. In a way, he’d been glad to be out of their house, but he had also been fifteen and stranded on the street with nowhere to go. 

He’d spent that night curled up behind a dumpster, trying to think logically about his options and failing miserably. 

By the next morning he had figured out a way to market his hacking skills online using his phone and a few hours later, he’d gotten a notification from someone named Lee Know. He wanted him to be the tech guy for a job he had planned. Seungmin hadn’t even thought for a second before he messaged his answer. 

“Where do you want me to meet you?”

Lee Know had taken one look at the shivering kid on his doorstep and decided to kidnap him. Not outright of course, he had an image to uphold, but after that first job he’d asked him to run another, and then another, and before long Seungmin had become a permanent fixture in Lee Know’s rotating crew. He’d lived with him for a year, eventually learning his real name—Minho—and slowly but surely working his way up the chain, building his reputation as one of the best hackers in the business. But he’d wanted something more.

So, Seungmin had left. 

And he hadn’t talked to Minho since. 

Yeah, he had reason to be hesitant. 

It’s okay, you can do it, you’re just asking for a safe place to lay low for a little while. Of course, logically that made sense, but it didn’t help his nerves. 

Quickly, before he could stop himself or overthink any more, Seungmin dialed the number from his notebook and held the ancient phone to his ear, absentmindedly playing with the cord with his other hand. 

Ring… “Yeah.”

“Minho?” All the noises coming from the other end of the line stopped. 

“Who is this?” Short and fast; he wasn’t messing around. That made sense, there were only so many people who knew to call him Minho, anyone calling for a job would ask for Lee Know. 

“It’s Seungmin.” A few beats passed before the response he’d been dreading came.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while.” Seungmin chuckled nervously, that was a drastic understatement. But this was how Minho was—blunt and to the point. 

“I know Minho, and I’m sorry; I really am. But listen, my apartment got raided last night.” 

Silence. 

Ok, Seungmin didn’t really know how to take that, so he just kept talking. 

“I got out okay and lost the cops tailing me, but they got all of my equipment,” A random thought hit him, and he panicked. “They won’t be able to find anything that’ll incriminate you—everything they have should be completely locked down and my computer is set up so if they try to open one of my secure files the hard drive will wipe itself completely and I made sure of that when I set it up so there shouldn’t be any way for them…”

“You’re rambling.” 

Seungmin took a deep breath. He thought he might be able to hear something akin to fondness in Minho’s voice, but he was even harder to read over the phone than he was in person, so it was virtually impossible to tell.

“I’m lost and I need a place to lay low for a couple days.” Seungmin slumped against the wall, all the exhaustion from the previous eight hours suddenly hitting him. “And maybe a computer if you’ve got one.”

A dry chuckle came over the line and Seungmin couldn’t help but smile—Minho had always told him he needed to be more direct. But his nerves hadn’t gone away. Minho might not have hung up on him yet, but he hadn’t given him an answer either. 

“Where are you calling from?” Seungmin blanked. 

“Uhhh, I’m in a random coffee shop I found.” Minho took a breath to say something but Seungmin cut him off, realizing his mistake. “Wait, that wasn’t very helpful was it.” He mentally smacked himself. “Hang on, I'll get you the address.” 

Seungmin set the phone down on one of the boxes and walked over to the curtain, pulling it aside and surprising the barista so much she almost dropped the mug of coffee she was holding. 

“Jesus! You scared me!” 

Seungmin scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. Now that he thought about it, that was becoming a habit for nearly all of his characters, he’d better quit it before he got caught. He brought his hand down and shoved it into his pocket. 

“Sorry, I just need the address of this coffee shop.”

“Oh yeah, it’s 174 Oak Avenue.” Seungmin nodded in thanks and retreated back to the phone, grateful her surprise had been genuine because it meant she hadn’t been eavesdropping on his extremely suspicious phone call. 

“174 Oak Avenue.” A faint clicking sound came over the line and Minho hummed quietly. 

“Got something to write with?” Seungmin scrambled with his bag again, coming up with his notebook and an almost dry pen. He tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder and held the notebook up on the wall, locating a blank space to write. 

“Yeah go for it.”

“Alright, you’re going to head down Oak, turn left on Lower Road, right on Chestnut, walk until you see a sign for a new food truck and turn right down the alley right next to it. Halfway down that alley there’ll be a door with a metal screen, a backdoor to one of the apartments. Knock the old pattern and answer cats.”

The dial tone sounded in Seungmin’s ear as Minho abruptly hung up and he placed the phone back in its receiver, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He had somewhere to go. Minho hadn’t turned him away. He was going to see his friend again.

But first things first. 

He really wanted that muffin. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The barista had actually turned out to be really nice once Seungmin had ordered something and started talking. Apparently, she was studying at a university nearby in hopes of becoming a lawyer once day, which Seungmin personally thought was super interesting. After all, the two groups of people who knew the law best were the people who enforced it and the people who broke it. He could probably quote most laws about cyber security and hacking from memory at this point, though it wasn’t like he could tell her that. Regardless, the conversation was incredibly interesting even if he was falling asleep at random points during it.  

The lemon poppyseed muffin he’d ordered was delicious, and Seungmin made sure to jot that down in his notebook, along with the address of the coffee shop. Maybe he’d come back someday, you never know.

Slowly but surely the sun crept higher into the sky and other customers began to enter the cozy shop, so Seungmin finished his breakfast, thanked the barista for the conversation, and started walking, following the directions Minho had given him. 

It took about 15 minutes of walking down Oak before he realized this wasn’t going to be the quick walk he’d pictured. 

From what Seungmin remembered about Lee Know, he operated in a district of the city that was at least an hour walk from his old apartment, so it made sense the safe house would be so far away. Unfortunately, Seungmin’s exhausted brain hadn’t remembered that when Minho had first given him the directions. 

“Ughhh, I just want to sleep.” He huffed to no one, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk in front of him.

Seungmin pulled two all nighters and had still been awake when the cops had kicked his door down, and he certainly hadn’t had a chance to rest since then, so walking for 45 minutes was definitely not what he’d had in mind. 

Thankfully, it seemed like he was finally getting close; he could see the sign for Chestnut Street a few blocks ahead. 

Thank god, he might actually collapse if it was much farther. 

A few minutes later and he’d found the sign for the food truck, which actually looked delicious. Maybe he could go get some after he crashed at Minho’s place for a few hours. Dismissing that random thought, he hurried down the alley, which was just as cramped and dark as Seungmin thought it would be, and he almost missed the door because it was the same color as the brick around it. 

Stifling a yawn, Seungmin knocked on the door in the pattern Minho had taught him when he’d first taken him in—two short, three long, and the last one which ended with dragging his knuckle in a circle. A couple seconds passed and a voice suddenly spoke through the door. 

“What are the best animals in existence?”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. This was such a Minho move—making him answer this question with such an obvious wrong answer. Suck it up for a bed to sleep in Seungmin, this totally won’t get used against you randomly in the future. 

“Cats.” 

The door swung open. 

Seungmin stumbled inside, squinting at the sudden darkness in the apartment. But before his eyes could adjust, his knee buckled and he fell forward. Immediately, hands caught him under his arms and gently guided him to the wall, keeping him from completely collapsing onto the floor.

“…gmin… Seungmin, hey… you with me?” Seungmin looked up and was greeted with Minho’s worried face, a sight he hadn’t seen since he was a 16 year old kid. 

Man, had he missed him.

Minho must’ve seen some recognition or emotion register on his face because he smirked,  carefully made sure Seungmin was stable, and let go so he could step back and cross his arms.

“Bedroom’s down the hall, second door on the right.” Seungmin smiled weakly and nodded, but the unusual tone in Minho’s voice caught his attention. He looked up and caught Minho staring at him with an unreadable expression. 

“Thank you.” He settled on saying, knowing Minho would understand what he really meant. 

Minho nodded and turned away, presumably heading to his office. 

“Get some rest.” 

Seungmin couldn’t have agreed with that statement more. 

But as he slowly made his way towards the bedroom, a slight gleam on the kitchen table caught his attention. Tiredly, Seungmin swiped a hand across his face and looked closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was an all black business card with nothing on it but a silver phone number that was reflecting the light, creating the gleam he’d noticed.  

Huh, that was odd. Seungmin had the weirdest feeling he’d seen that business card before, but his exhausted brain couldn’t put the pieces together. After a few sentence of wracking his brain for any sort of clue, Seungmin gave up on forcing his exhausted brain to think in favor of finding the nearest bed to crash on.

He slowly stumbled down the hallway, finding the bedroom and collapsing on what he thought looked like the softest bed in the universe. 

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

Chapter Text

The sunlight creeping into the room from the window gradually pulled Seungmin out of his dreamless sleep, making him groan as he rolled over to try and block the light so he could drift back to sleep again. However, after a few minutes of the light only getting brighter, Seungmin realized that wasn’t going to work, so he accepted his fate and slowly stretched out on the bed, his clothes rubbing uncomfortable against his skin as he moved.

He really needed a shower.

Groaning, Seungmin sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to reorient himself. His eyes landed on the clock sitting on the nightstand, and Seungmin blinked.

5:39 am.

Ok then. Seungmin was normally an early riser, but this was really taking it to a whole new level. But, he was awake now, so he might as well start his day now. Sighing, he threw his feet off the side of his bed, expecting to see his monitors blinking at him the way they normally did in the morning, but his eyes fell on a blank wall. Seungmin looked around, confused.

Then it clicked.

This wasn’t his room.

Suddenly wide awake, Seungmin slid off the bed, a bit shaky on his feet. He hadn’t talked to Minho in months, and yet he’d just shown up to his apartment, basically passed out on him, and taken over his guest room for almost 18 hours.

He didn’t even want to think about it.

So, first things first.

He really did need to shower.

Steadying himself, Seungmin walked to the closet and rifled through the clothes hanging there, hoping Minho didn’t have anything specific he wouldn’t want him to wear. He stood there for a few minutes, zoning out as he staring at the clothing, but eventually he settled on a gray pair of sweats and a black t-shirt. Seungmin tucked them under his arm and walked to the door, peeking his head out of the room carefully.

Trying not to be seen just in case Minho did happen to be around, Seungmin darted across the hall and disappeared into the bathroom, dropping the clothes on the ground as he slid down the inside of the door and sat heavily on the ground.

He just needed a minute.

Thirty-six hours ago his life had been normal, not perfect, but good. He’d had an apartment, enough food to eat, and a semi-stable job doing what he loved. Now, he had a backpack and the clothes he was wearing. Not only that, he’d barged back into a friend’s life with no consideration for if he even wanted to see him anymore. Seungmin dropped his head into his hands and huffed.

Well, you’re not going to be able to fix anything sitting on a bathroom floor.

He couldn’t fix what had happened, so Seungmin tried to focus on what he could do. And right now, that was getting his ass in the shower.

It took him a few minutes to figure out how to turn the water on to the right temperature, but thankfully there was soap in the shower and a clean towel sitting on the sink. Seungmin chuckled. Minho must have put it there while he was asleep, correctly guessing that showering would be the first thing he would want to do when he woke up.

That was such a Minho thing to do.

Seungmin had become accustomed to Minho’s strange ways of showing affection while he had lived with him, and his heart squeezed happily at the thought that he still cared enough to do something like that for him.

Smiling, Seungmin turned his focus fully on what he could control—getting the grime off of his skin.

~~~~~~~~~~

When he emerged half an hour later, Seungmin stopped by the room he’d commandeered the night before to drop his disgusting clothing in a neat pile and hesitantly walked into the kitchen, tugging on his borrowed t-shirt nervously. He didn’t really know what he hoped to find.

But it didn’t really matter, because when he walked in, the kitchen was dark. Seungmin didn’t know why, but he was slightly disappointed. After all, he was going to have to talk to Minho sooner or later. Sighing, he flicked the lights on and immediately jumped out of his skin.

“Minho!”

The young man in question was sitting in the chair in the corner, looking completely satisfied with how he’d just scared the living daylights out of him.

“What were you doing sitting in the dark?” Seungmin asked, putting on an unbothered expression and leaning against the doorframe.

Minho shrugged.


“Eating.” He answered simply, gesturing to the bowl of cereal in front of him.

A relaxed silence filled the room as Minho just picked up his spoon and continued eating, something Seungmin supposed he was just doing in the dark before he’d walked in. Well, he wasn’t actually that surprised. Minho was weird.

Seungmin pushed himself off the wall and went through the motions of making himself a bowl of cereal before finally sitting down across from the infamous Lee Know, who was silently eating his frosted flakes.

“How’d they find you?” Minho asked after a minute, making eye contact with Seungmin across the kitchen table.

See, this was the thing with him. His face betrayed nothing about his thoughts. His words were the only way anyone could tell what was going on in that head of his.

“I think one of my contacts sold me out.” Seungmin said, his eyes darkening as he voiced his suspicion. Minho nodded slowly, inviting Seungmin to continue.

“I did a job a week or so ago and it didn’t exactly turn out the way we had planned.”

Massive understatement.

Seungmin looked down, remembering the yelling in his headpiece as the team he’d been leading were caught redhanded by the police while they were waiting for the other team, led by another hacker, to meet them.

Yeah, nope. That hacker, who’d been supposed to coordinate the mission with Seungmin, had changed the plan completely and decided not to tell him, leading to the arrests of almost his entire team.

The benefactor of the operation had been understandably furious, and the other hacker had pinned all of the blame on Seungmin, who wasn’t dealing with it very well as it was. To keep himself safe, he’d immediately cut himself off from the group and erased everything that might lead them to his location. But clearly, he hadn’t been thorough enough.

Across the table, Minho hummed thoughtfully, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Not a good enough reason to rat someone out.” Seungmin chuckled and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes.

“Not everyone has the moral compass you do.”

Minho looked up, his hard eyes gazing into Seungmin’s soul.

“Seems you figured that out the hard way.”

Welp, there it was; the thing they’d been dancing around this entire time. Sighing, Seungmin pushed his bowl away from him and sat back in his chair.

“Minho, what I said on the phone was true, I really am sorry for what I did.” Seungmin played with his rings absentmindedly, not meeting Minho’s piercing gaze. “Leaving out of nowhere without giving you an explanation was wrong, I know that now, but…” He looked up, meeting Minho’s eyes. “I needed to learn how to survive on my own.”

Minho’s face didn’t change.

Watching his unreadable expression, Seungmin could only hope his explanation had explained some of the hurt he’d caused, but he knew it was going to take a lot more than that to fix what he’d done.

A couple seconds later, Minho nodded slowly, lessening the pressure in Seungmin’s chest.

“I have a computer you can set up on.”

And just like that, he’d been forgiven.

“Thank you hyung.” He said quietly, ignoring the way Minho’s expression finally changed, his mouth dropping open slightly at the honorific. In half a second, he pulled himself together again and the moment was gone, but it had been there.

Seungmin couldn’t hold his grin in, making Minho chuckle a little bit, but he was just so relieved. He didn’t hate him, he’d forgiven him, he’d taken him in once again.

But when he looked up at Minho again, he recognized an expression he remembered vividly from the past.

Ambition.

“What.” He asked flatly.

Minho leaned back and reached into his pocket, pulling out the all black business card with a silver number that Seungmin had noticed the night before. Now, in the early morning light, he was hit with the realization he’d been grappling with last night. He had recognized it.

“You got one too didn’t you?” Seungmin nodded slowly.

“Did you already accept?” Minho asked, rising an eyebrow as Seungmin continued to stare at the card. “Seungmin?” He reached forward and snapped his fingers in front of Seungmin’s nose, making him jump. “What’s wrong.”

“I haven’t called yet.”

Minho narrowed his eyes.

“I was still too fresh off that last disaster, okay? I didn’t want to be part of another team so soon, especially when it’s not exactly clear what kind of job it is and what the time commitment will be like.” Seungmin explained quickly. Across from him, Minho stood up and collected their bowls, nodding to show he was still listening.

“Were you ever actually going to accept or were you just going to throw the card in the trash and ignore that you ever got it?” Minho asked over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen and placed their bowls in the sink. Seungmin looked down at his lap.

“I don’t know. I only got it two days ago, so I didn’t really have a lot of time to think about it.”

Minho leaned against the fridge and crossed his arms, watching the young man sitting in his kitchen try to avoid meeting his eyes.

It made sense. Lee Know was an actor, a conman, and controlling his facial features was literally his job, so reading other people’s micro expressions had naturally become a skill of his due to his line of work.

Seungmin knew that. So, when he was trying to hide, he would always look away, which of course exposed him just as much. But Minho was never going to tell him that.

“I’m going to accept it.” He said bluntly. Seungmin finally looked up at him, a contemplating expression on his face. He’d always been the type to think through his options thoroughly before making a decision, so Minho waited patiently, making himself as comfortable as he could while leaning against a fridge.

It took a few minutes, but eventually he got his answer.

“I guess I don’t have anything else to do right now.” Seungmin said slowly, a small smile appearing on his face. “You said you have a computer?”

Minho grinned.

“It’s in the office along with a few of the gadgets you left behind.” Seungmin brightened immediately and stood up, running halfway down the hall before he realized he didn’t actually know where the office was.

“I don’t know where I’m going!” Minho chuckled and followed the kid down the hall, turning him around and leading him to the office. Once there, he pulled the box containing his backup computer and Seungmin’s old supplies out of the closet and handed it to him, chuckling at his giddy expression.

“Alright then, while you sort through this stuff, I’m going to call and accept for both of us.” Seungmin nodded, only half listening as he started taking an inventory of his supplies. Minho just smiled and before he could stop himself, he reached over and ruffled Seungmin’s light purple hair, quickly leaving the room before the teen could register what had just happened.

Once in the hall, Minho pulled his phone and the business card out of his pocket and walked to his living room, plopping down on his coach as he dialed the number.

Ring…Ring… “Hello?”

“Lee Know and Seungmin are in."

Chapter Text

You know, when most people look around they find the normal things they see incredibly boring. A tree, a desk, a box of tissues; it didn’t matter what it was. Wherever they were, when they looked around all they saw was stuff, inanimate objects, nothing that would catch their attention.

Felix had never understood that.

When he looked around, he saw stories, words, making up everything most people would find mundane. The world to him was a textbook of information, one most people couldn’t or wouldn’t read. Of course, that didn’t mean he was never bored, but it did mean that when he was all he had to do was look around and he would spot something that would tell him a story.

Right now though, that gift felt more like a curse.

He’d had a day off of school, but his house had quickly begun to feel like a prison with his parents watching his every move. So, he’d left, stammering out some excuse about needing to go borrow a textbook from the library. In actuality, he’d just gone for a walk, deciding to take in the sights of the downtown district he lived in.

It took quite a few minutes, but eventually the feeling of constantly being watched began to fade away and Felix felt like he could breathe again.

His parents could just be… a lot. Obviously, they knew about his gift, his insane ability to learn and retain information at the speed of light, and they had taken it upon themselves to ‘help’ him learn everything he could.

Out from under their judging gazes, Felix’s shoulders relaxed and he rolled his neck gingerly, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes—just letting himself feel. The bright midmorning sun warmed his cheeks and a soft breeze blew by, gently tousling his hair and making one of the long blonde strands settle on the side of his nose. Huffing, Felix blew the pesky hair out of his face and opened his eyes, the last feelings of claustrophobia disappearing as he started walking again.

He’d needed this break.

As he walked down the narrow street, a bright poster stuck to the wall caught his eye, advertising a new art exhibit at a nearby museum. A broad grin spread across Felix’s face—he loved museums, and that sounded like the perfect excuse to stay out of his house for a few more hours. He changed the direction of his walk and began heading towards the museum, a bit more bounce in his step now that he had a destination.

It helped that it was a lovely day outside.

The birds were chirping from where they were perched on top of dark billboards and the wind was whistling through the small gaps between tall buildings, creating a wistful sounding harmony. For once in his life, Felix let his mind wander. It was nice to have a few minutes to himself without needing to recall any information for someone or be forced to learn anything new that he didn’t think was interesting or necessary.

At 18, Felix knew more things than most people learned in a lifetime, but he wanted something different. His life was monotonous, not boring, but not stimulating or exciting either. He had all this knowledge and nothing to use in on.

Sighing, he brought his mind back to the present and realized he’d walked right past the museum he’d been heading to. Sheepishly, Felix turned around, hoping no one had seen his blunder, and walked inside.

“One student ticket please.” His deep voice rang through the air, visibly startling the museum clerk.

“18 or under?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m 18.”

The clerk nodded and typed something into her computer before looking up and smiling.

“Alright, your ticket is free then. Enjoy the exhibit!” Felix smiled.

“Thank you, I will.”

The atmosphere in the museum was relaxing and comforting, the soft music and AC making it seem as if it was almost beckoning for Felix to stay as long was he needed.

Slowly and deliberately, Felix made his way through the new exhibit, examining each piece with a careful and appreciative eye. He’d always loved art, and it had been one of his favorite things to study, so he could recognize and give detailed descriptions of most of the pieces featured in the museum.

Suddenly, Felix recognized a small piece of art hanging on a far wall and walked over, smiling as he saw the texture and contrasting style of a lesser known artist named Kim Kichang. He’d never seen this piece in person before. It was called “Pomegranates and squirrels” and it had been one of Felix’s favorite pieces of art for as long as he’d known it existed. There was something about the white background and the detail in the squirrels contrasting with the rougher branch that he found incredibly beautiful.

As he studied the small strokes and swipes of the paint and the way they flowed together to create the beautiful picture, Felix noticed something odd.

He looked closer, getting as close to the painting as he could without setting off the proximity alarm. There was something wrong.

That wasn’t supposed to be there.

There was a small scrape of brown paint in the top right hand corner of the painting, near the squirrel’s tail, a part the was supposed to be almost completely white. It was hardly noticeable and had probably been dismissed as a rogue paint chip from years of wear and tear by whoever had authenticated it, but Felix specialized in memorizing the details. He knew what it was supposed to look like, and this wasn’t it.

He took a step back, eyes wide and frantic as they darted around the painting, finding flaw after flaw. Tiny things—the brushstroke there went in the wrong direction and the line was too harsh there, but Felix saw them all.

This was a forgery.

It was a brilliant work of art, and Felix felt a flash of astonishment and awe that someone would be able to create such an accurate copy, but it wasn’t Kichang’s original piece. Felix knew it.

But he didn’t have any idea what to do about it.

Felix stepped back again, subconsciously trying to distance himself from the work he now knew was a fake. It suddenly felt super hot in the museum; he was sweating. Obviously, this didn’t have anything to do with him—it wasn’t his fault or his responsibility to know what was going on, but his breathing was starting to speed up regardless.

He wasn’t used to not knowing what to do.

Finally giving into his panic, Felix turned tail and speed walked away, heading towards the door as fast as he could.

“Have a nice day!” The clerk waved, but Felix was too up in his head to notice. Her smile became a little concerned as he quickly walked by her, avoiding eye contact.

“Are you alright?”

The museum door slammed shut.

The fresh air helped. Felix took a couple deep, gulping breaths and sat down heavily on the museum stairs, splaying his hands against the cold concrete on both sides of him. He closed his eyes and focused only on the sensations he could feel—the smooth concrete under his fingertips, the warm sun on his face, and the cold wind piercing through his jacket, making him shiver. He had to focus on not letting his mind dwell on the forgery, but after a few minutes he’d calmed down enough to return to the problem at hand.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Just think Felix, that’s literally all you know how to do anyway. If you don’t like not knowing, figure it out! Felix frowned. That thought sounded suspiciously like his mother. Regardless, he supposed she was right in this instance, so he started to think.

He had a few options.

First, he could go back into the museum and tell the clerk that one of the pieces in the exhibit was a forgery, but then he would have to explain how he knew and he would probably be asked a bunch of questions he really didn’t want to answer.

Yeah, that didn’t sound fun.

The second option was to forget this ever happened and go home, but something about the thought of doing that set Felix on edge. That option would mean forgetting about the only interesting thing that had ever happened to him, and he really didn’t want to go home anyway.

But honestly, Felix just hated not knowing.

He wanted to know the answer.

That left him with option three. Figure out who the forger was. But Felix was in unknown territory here—for the first time in his life he had virtually no idea how to go about doing something. So, he decided to do what he always did when he wanted to learn something.

Time to go to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~

Felix growled and slammed the book shut, immediately flinching at the loud noise. There were books spread all around the desk he was leaning over, some bookmarked at information he’d thought was interesting and some he hadn’t even gotten to yet, but none of them contained anything helpful.

He’d found basically nothing.

To be fair, he didn’t really know what he was looking for or why information about modern forgers would be found in a library, but he’d thought he would be able to find something.

Yeah, that hadn’t worked out.

Groaning, he hit his head against the table gently, not wanting to hurt himself accidentally but needing an outlet for his frustration.

Was this how most people felt all the time?

Felix wanted answers and he couldn’t find them, and it was driving him crazy.

He needed to reevaluate.

Felix leaned back in his chair and swept a hand over his face, psyching himself up to dive back into the pit of random information to try to sort it out. After a minute, he leaned forward again, grabbing a notebook and pen he’d borrowed from the librarian, and opened one of the books to the spot he had bookmarked.

Slowly but surely, he went through every book he’d scanned for helpful information and transcribed only what he thought was important, making sure to keep the notebook neat and to the point.

Eventually, Felix reached the last book and reread what he had bookmarked, sighing in frustration as he only found one sentence helpful enough to write in his notebook.

He’d found half a page of relevant information in his three hour stay at the library.

Well shit.

There had been a lot on the history of forging, a little bit about Kim Kichang and “Pomegranates and squirrels”, though he doubted that would help him much (and he’d already known most of it), and a few books that had detailed how the police had caught certain forgers in the past, which was really the most helpful information he’d found.

Hang on a second.

Felix’s head popped up from where he’d buried it between his arms on the desk and he slowly brought his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes, completely exasperated with himself.

He didn’t need information on forging, he needed to learn about where the forgery he’d found had come from. Where the museum had gotten it, who had authenticated it, and where in the chain had it disappeared and then popped up again. That was what would lead him to the forger.

Felix felt so stupid.

Alright then, time to put all these useless books away and log onto a computer.

~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn’t realized how late it was.

Felix stood outside of his house, shifting back and forth on his feet and shivering even in the late afternoon sun. He gnawed on his lip and glanced hesitantly at the door, trying to will his feet to move, but he was frozen in place. The last few hours had been anything but relaxing, but at least he’d been alone without the pressure of expectations on him.

He’d spent three more hours in the library, logging onto a library computer after his realization and sorting through all the information he’d found about the museum and how they’d acquired the painting. At this point, Felix had created his own sort of case file in the small notebook he’d borrowed from the librarian, which she’d graciously allowed him to keep after she saw how much he’d written in it. It contained everything helpful he’d found, from the history of the painting to details of the museum’s process of acquiring and authentication new pieces of art.

But even with as excited as he was with his progress, Felix was kicking himself for losing track of time and staying out this late.

His parents were going to kill him.

With a resigned sigh, Felix finally forced himself to move and walked slowly in the front door, where he was greeted with a chilling silence.

“Yongbok, I thought we had made ourselves clear.” His father’s deep voice sounded from the living room, out of place in the quiet house. “You were to memorize the history, function, and properties of this new formula-“ A slam sounded as he threw the textbook detailing the formula on the ground, making Felix jump. “By the end of today.”

Sometimes Felix wondered how he and his father could sound so similar and yet so different at the same time. Anyone who heard the two of them speak would instantly be able to tell that Felix had inherited his voice from his father, but Felix’s voice was sincere and kind while his fathers was gruff and uncaring.

“I’m sorry Father, I lost track of time at the library.” There we go, not a lie, just not all of the truth. A scraping sound and heavy footsteps set Felix on edge, clenching his fists tightly where he stood in the doorway.

“I thought we were done with the excuses.” An order, disguised as a simple thought. Stop making up excuses, just do what you’re supposed to.

“Yes sir.” Felix answered mechanically, standing ramrod straight and examining the floor as his father watched him critically.

“Yongbok, you were given this gift for a reason.” Oh, here we go again. “Your mother and I are just trying to help you cultivate it so you can go out and do great things in the world.”

“Yes sir.”

His father sighted, sounding more like a growl, and ‘gave’ Felix the textbook by slamming it into his stomach.

Oof.

All the breath left his lungs and Felix doubled over, coughing, as his father’s judgmental gaze burned a hole through the back of his neck. With a tremendous effort, Felix straightened quickly, still maintaining eye contact with the floor as he held the book against his stomach gingerly. He had to stop himself from shuddering as his father leaned in close, his hot breath against Felix’s cheek.

“Memorize it. Now.”

Felix nodded quickly and waited for the man to head back to the living room before turning and essentially sprinting up the stairs and into his room, shutting his door quietly behind him.

God he hated this house.

Felix jumped onto his bed and rolled himself into a blanket, wincing as his stomach protested the sudden movement. He was definitely going to have a nasty bruise from that textbook.

He pulled his notebook (case file) out of his back pocket and flipped it open, hoping he would be able to find some connections between the data he’d found. He hadn’t really had time to go through all of the information he’d written down at the library because he’d noticed the sun was way lower in the sky than it had been when he’d left and immediately ran home. But now, it was barely 5pm and Felix doubted he would be getting dinner, so he had plenty of time to try to figure this out.

Ok, here we go.

Apparently, the museum had gotten the painting from a private donor named Kim Daejung, who had posted an article on his social media about finding the rare piece of art and buying it at an auction for 1.3 million. Though he hadn’t specifically named the auction, Felix had narrowed it down to two in the area that had occurred in the past month, eventually landing on one that had been held a week prior to the donation and two weeks before the museum exhibit had officially opened.

The auction had been to raise money and awareness for the art and dance program at a nearby college, which had surprised Felix because it didn’t seem like a prestigious enough program to warrant such a fancy auction. Not only that, but “Pomegranates and squirrels” had been the most valuable piece of art sold by far.

In all honesty, Felix was surprised no one else had caught on to the fact that it was a forgery yet, because just happening to have the real one was too good to be true for this college’s program. Especially because he hadn’t been able to find where they had gotten it from anywhere online or in print. It just wasn’t listed.

The real painting had disappeared in the late 90’s, assumed to have been stolen and sold on the black market, and all of a sudden this random college sold it at an auction to raise money for their art and dance program? It was just too good to be true.

Which meant Felix had his first list of suspects—the art professors and students who were a part of the program, specifically the painters.

Felix had researched the art department at the college, trying to see if there were any artists who had immediately stood out to him. Obviously he knew he wouldn’t be able to recognize the art style, any forger good enough to create that piece of art was good enough to be able to change their style whenever they wanted, but he thought that someone that talented would stand out whether they wanted to or not.

There were a couple, but one students’ work in particular had caught Felix’s eye.

His name was Hwang Hyunjin.

He was an award winning artist who was the star student of the art program that the auction had been raising money for, and Felix thought he had more than enough talent to have pulled off the forgery.

There wasn’t much about him online, just a few pictures of his work and a few articles detailing his achievements, but Felix gone digging and found his instagram account. He mostly posted artsy photos of sunsets and pretty landscapes, but he seemed like a sweet person based on his interactions in the comments.

However, Felix knew better than anyone you could never really tell much about a person based only on what was online.

Well, now he knew what he was doing tomorrow, mostly because this was way more interesting than anything else he would be doing.

He was going to go meet Hyunjin.

Chapter Text

Hyunjin just wanted a nap.

When he’d woken up this morning, he’d expected (or at least hoped for) a relaxing day. There was no school, no new pieces of art to complete, and no dance practices, so Hyunjin had thought maybe he’d be able to get some extra sleep or maybe just chill on the couch and binge the new anime he’d found. But no, he seriously couldn’t catch a break.

And now he was kneeling in the corner of his room, shaking as he pulled the baseball bat he kept for protection.

It was never supposed to go this far.

Especially because all of this had started by completely and utter accident.

A couple of months ago, Hyunjin had been approached by one of his art professors who’d confessed to him that the art program he was a part of was going bankrupt, which had broken the young artist’s heart. The program had been the brainchild of his grandmother back in the 1960’s when she had attended this same college, and Hyunjin had promised to keep her legacy alive. Seeing this program fail after so many years would be absolutely devastating for his entire family, let alone him.

So, stupidly, he’d listened.

The professor had urged him to begin learning how to emulate other artists’ styles, and Hyunjin had agreed, thinking maybe he would create a few original pieces in the style of popular artists to be able to sell them for more money.

Oh, how naive he’d been.

Hyunjin had painted three different pieces in two weeks and presented them to the professor, extremely excited about what he’d been able to create in order to help save the program, but his teacher had dismissed them out of hand, barely reacting at all. Instead, he’d handed him a printed copy of “Pomegranates and squirrels” by Kim Kichang.

“Copy this.”

Hyunjin had balked.

“Sir… that would be forgery.” He’d said carefully, hoping he’d simply misunderstood and he wasn’t actually being asked to do what he thought he was. The professor had just leveled a glare at him, raising an eyebrow over his thick glasses.

“Do you want to save the program or not?”

Hyunjin had debated long and hard with himself, trying to justify copying another artist’s work in order to try to save his grandmother’s program. His morals were at question here and he really didn’t know what to do. However, eventually he’d relented, telling himself it would be a one time thing.

It had taken him two weeks to create an almost perfect copy, one he thought no one but him would be able to see the tiny flaws in. His professor had agreed, and he’d been ecstatic when the painting had passed the authentication process and sold for so much money. Hyunjin had been so relieved, and a weight had slid off of his shoulders. He’d thought that would be the end of it.

Apparently, he’d thought wrong.

Someone was knocking on his door. Someone he didn’t know.

Yeah, Hyunjin knew he was paranoid.

Still shaking, he stood up and walked slowly to the door, leaning the baseball bat against the wall next to him, out of sight but still easily in reach. Hyunjin took a deep breath and opened the door slightly.

A young man was standing there, dressed it all black, with a relaxed smile on his face. Hyunjin didn’t know why, but as soon as he saw him he calmed down a little bit, despite not knowing who he was or why he was outside of his door.

“Hwang Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin nodded sharply, watching as the young man bowed his head slightly in greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you.” The man straightened and Hyunjin silently returned the sign of respect, still extremely confused at the random stranger on his doorstep. They both paused for an awkward moment before the stranger slowly reached a hand into his pocket as Hyunjin watched warily.

“I need you to listen to me carefully.” He pulled out a card, all black with a single silver phone number shining in the middle of it, and fiddled with it, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I know about… the painting—” Hyunjin flinched and immediately tried to slam the door, but the stranger stuck his foot into the apartment to stop it from closing. “—but I’m not a cop, and I’m not here to get you into trouble. I’m here because I need your help.” He finished quickly, his eyes wide and sincere as he realized how much he had just scared the artist. Hyunjin backed away slowly and the young man opened the door a little wider, but didn’t make any move to come inside.

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re an extremely talented artist, and I need someone with your skills to help me with a job, if you’re interested.” Hyunjin was shaking his head no as soon as the man finished speaking.

“No, no, no, no, no. I did what I did out of necessity, not for fun, not for money, not for any of that!” He paused, taking a deep breath and watching as the man furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly confused. “Art is amazing and beautiful, but most of all it’s a reflection of the artist’s soul.” He shook his head vehemently. “To take something like that and copy it, without any knowledge of what it really means… it’s just not right.”

Hyunjin looked up from where his gaze had landed on the floor, finding the man grinning widely at his outburst.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He yelled, exasperated and confused at the strange turn of events.

“Because, Hyunjin, you just proved to me you have something most people in my line of work lack, something I value highly.” The young man looked at him, his gaze piercing into Hyunjin’s soul. “Empathy.”

Hyunjin scoffed, but the stranger wasn’t done yet.

“Think about it this way. “Pomegranates and squirrels” has been missing for decades, right? If you truly meant what you said, then you also believe that art is meant to be seen, meant to influence the world.” Hyunjin nodded slowly, starting to see where he might be going with this.

“Well, you, Hyunjin, however much you might think it was wrong, put that influence back into the world. If I were an artist, I would much rather have someone copy my work and let people continue to see and enjoy it than for my influence to die on the black market, hidden away by some collector or art thief.” He cocked his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Hyunjin’s face from where it was hidden under his long black hair.

“I guess…” Hyunjin started slowly. “That does make sense.”

The young man smiled widely, but Hyunjin continued, almost feeling bad for making that expression fall off his face.

“But, if I’m thinking correctly about what kind of ‘job’ you want to offer me, then your explanation doesn’t change a thing.” He stepped forward, moving to close the door.

“You’re not.”

Hyunjin stopped. The man looked at his feet awkwardly, feeling Hyunjin’s gaze lingering suspiciously on him.

“I’m not what?”

“Thinking correctly about the kind of ‘job’ I want to offer.” He looked up and locked eyes with Hyunjin, an almost pleading expression in his eyes.

“So it’s not a crime?” Hyunjin asked, raising an eyebrow. The stranger studied the floor.

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Hyunjin huffed.

“Stop playing games and cut to the chase.” He crossed his arms, “Just tell me what the job is and I’ll decide for myself.”

“I can’t, not out in the open like this.” The young man looked up, holding out the black business card he’d been fiddling with throughout the entire conversation. “But think about it, and when you come to a decision, call me.”

Hesitantly, Hyunjin reached out and accepted the card, tucking it into his pocket as he watched the stranger turn and walk away. But a thought hit him suddenly and he stepped out into the hallway.

“Wait!” The young man stopped and turned around, his face carefully pulling into a blank mask.

“I don’t know your name.” Hyunjin said quietly. But then he smirked, locking eyes with the stranger. “And I don’t work with people who keep secrets about things as big as their name.” The young man smiled and turned back around, calling his name out over his shoulder as he walked away.

“It’s Bang Chan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Hyunjin yelled after him, barely catching the tail of end of a smirk on Bang Chan’s face just before he disappeared around a corner. Finally relaxing, he pulled the card out of his pocket and studied it, trying to figure out what he was going to do.

Sighing, he walked back into his apartment and closed the door, setting the card on his kitchen table before going to unpause his anime.

He would think about that problem later.

~~~~~~~~~~

Man, Hyunjin couldn’t catch a break.

It had literally been two hours since Bang Chan had given him the strange business card and offered him a way into a kind of life he’d never thought about joining, and another random stranger was already knocking on his door.

Slowly, Hyunjin paused his anime, got up from the couch, and made his way to the door, reassured by the fact that his bat was still leaning against the wall where he’d left it. He wasn’t taking any chances. Taking a deep breath, he cracked the door open for the second time that day.

There was boy who looked to be about the same age as him standing in the hallway, looking like the absolute opposite of the last stranger. This boy had long blonde hair and freckles and he was wearing a bright yellow sweatshirt and gray joggers, completely different from Bang Chan’s all black ensemble.

He looked like sunshine personified, and it put Hyunjin at ease.

“Hello?” He pulled the door open further and poked his head out, locking eyes with the second stranger on his doorstep that day.

“Hello.”

Woa, Hyunjin had not been expecting that. This kid’s voice did not match his appearance at all. His astonishment must have shown on his face, because the boy chuckled and held his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Felix.”

“Hyunjin.” He shook Felix’s hand politely, still confused as to why he was outside of his apartment. An awkward silence followed their introductions, and Hyunjin floundered for something to say, thinking just asking why he was here might come across a little rude.

Little did he know, Felix was wondering pretty much the same thing. His entire walk to Hyunjin’s apartment he’d been too preoccupied with his anxiety about sneaking out of his house to actually think about what he was going to say once he was face to face with the artist. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking for literally anything to say.

Welp, might as well be direct.

“Do you know anything about “Pomegranates and squirrels” by Kim Kichang?”

As soon as he heard that name, Hyunjin tensed and Felix stepped back instinctively, wondering if that had been a stupid thing to lead off with.

In the doorway, Hyunjin was literally having an existential crisis. First Bang Chan, now Felix, both randomly showing up having made a connection no one but him should have been able to see. It was just too much of a coincidence.

So, he jumped to the most logical conclusion.

“Look Felix, tell Bang Chan he made a mistake. I told him I would think about it and that was it, so I really don’t know what he thought he would achieve by sending you.” Felix’s eyebrows wove together in confusion and Hyunjin completely misinterpreted the look.

“He seriously can’t be expecting me to have an answer so soon! Look…” He quickly ran inside, grabbed the business card off his kitchen table, and showed it to Felix, who looked at it like it was written in a different language and Hyunjin had grown another head. “I have his card, just tell him I need some actual time to think about it.”

Dumbfounded, Felix nodded slowly and Hyunjin sighed in relief, putting the card back in his pocket and stepping further back into the safety of his apartment.

“Thank you, I really don’t know what he was thinking, but I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. I hope the rest of your day goes well!” And with that, he closed the door in Felix’s stunned face.

Uhhhh… what just happened?

Felix slowly turned away from the apartment door and walked down the hall, trying to figure out what hell Hyunjin had been talking about.

Who was Bang Chan? What did he expect Hyunjin to have an answer to? What was the card for? Felix just been looking for the forger, but what else Hyunjin involved in?

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing the elevator button and leaning against the wall to wait. All he’d wanted was answers, and the only thing he’d found was more questions. But even in his confusion, the thought of dropping the whole thing and walking away never crossed Felix’s mind. After all, he’d never been the type to be able to forget.

But now he was back to square one.

The elevator dinged and Felix walked in, selecting the ground floor as he leaned against the mirror. As he studied his reflection, something hit him.

Hang on a second.

The card.

Hyunjin had shown him the card.

A smile broke out across Felix’s face and he pulled out his phone. Of course Hyunjin wouldn’t have known about Felix’s gift, so he had no idea he’d been able to memorize the number on the card in the few seconds it had been out of Hyunjin’s pocket.

But he had.

So now, all he needed to do was track the number and he might be able to find whoever this Bang Chan was. Felix grinned and opened his notes app, typing the number down to make sure he wouldn’t lose it somehow.

This was turning into something Felix totally hadn’t expected when he’d decided to track down the forger, but it was interesting and exciting, so he didn’t really care. In the back of his mind, Felix wondered if this might be his way out… but he quickly shoved that thought away.

The elevator dinged once again and Felix walked quickly out onto the street, his brain running at a hundred miles an hour.

It was time to find this Bang Chan and figure out what he wanted with a forger.

Chapter Text

Damn, he hated running.

Lungs burning, legs pumping, Jeongin was sprinting. Did he know where he was going? Absolutely not. Did he care? Hell no!

Gunshots rang out behind him and Jeongin ducked on instinct, still running at full speed. He needed to get somewhere, anywhere other than here, away from the guns. Jeongin’s whole life was a story of wrong place, wrong time. And now he was getting shot at because of it. 

This was just great. 

“Yeah you’d better run, kid!” One of the men chasing him yelled, sounding farther away than he had a couple of minutes ago. “And keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong!” Jeongin huffed, despite being so out of breath, annoyed. He hadn’t meant to intrude, it’d been an accident!

Well… kinda. 

He may have ‘accidentally’ eavesdropped on a meeting that only high level members of the gang he’d joined two months earlier were allowed to attend. 

Yes, Jeongin knew that was stupid, but it wasn’t his fault he was curious! 

Honestly though, he should’ve guessed his baby face wouldn’t help him after ticking off his bosses, who were notorious for being incredibly ruthless towards members who were suspected of being snitches. It didn’t even matter that Jeongin definitely wasn’t a snitch, they were going to kill him anyway. 

Jeongin spared a quick glance over his shoulder, relaxing slightly when he saw the men had stopped running after him, but he kept jogging, wanting to get as far away from them as possible. 

He was still too close to those guns.

A corner was coming up ahead of him and Jeongin turned quickly, losing sight of his pursuers. Thankfully, he hadn’t run in a direction he didn’t know, so with a bit of detouring, Jeongin thought he should be able to get himself home safely to get his stuff, warn his family, and get the hell out of the district. Relieved, he exhaled a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding and stopped running, opting to fast walk his way to safety instead of torturing himself by sprinting any further. 

But before he could go more than a few steps, Jeongin registered the sound of someone walking towards him and tensed, his chest constricting in panic as he looked up and froze.  

He was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Time slowed down. The warm autumn air that had been so nice this morning suddenly felt suffocatingly hot and every rustle of wind was 10 times too loud. With wide eyes, Jeongin put his hands up slowly, bracing himself for the sound of a gunshot and the blinding pain that came with it to hit him any second. But instead, it seemed like the guy wanted to talk.

“Not so tough now, eh?” He gestured to Jeongin’s shaking figure with his gun and laughed, throwing his head back. As soon as the words left the stranger’s mouth, Jeongin’s eyes snapped up, carefully looking at the man in front of him. It took a second, but it clicked. 

Holy shit. 

He knew him. 

“Mr. Lee?” The man in question just grinned, not dropping the weapon that was still pointed at Jeongin’s head. 

“Hello Jeongin.” As he spoke, the man moved closer, smiling widely as Jeongin flinched back. 

This didn’t make any sense at all. 

Lee Youngsoo was the unofficial leader of his district, the person who worked with the government on behalf of the people, the one who made everything happen. He was literally the most charitable and kind politician in existence. Jeongin’s family had had dinner with him just a few weeks ago! 

But none of that was matching up with what Jeongin was looking at now. Of course he was aware he was the lowest level on the gang’s totem pole, but he thought even he would know if the leader of his entire community was a member! 

“Wh…what? Youngsoo, what are you doing?” Jeongin stammered out, dropping the honorifics as he stepped backwards.

“Oh Jeongin, I wish you didn’t have to make me do this.” The man sighed, “You of all people, a snitch? How could you do this to your family?”

Jeongin shook his head vigorously. 

“I’m not-”

“Shut up!” Youngsoo screamed, spittle flying as he moved even closer to the boy. “Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” The gun clicked as he disabled the safety, making Jeongin freeze. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He was going to die. 

“RUN!” 

Out of nowhere, Youngsoo was slammed into the concrete, tackled by a blue blur that came flying at him from the other side of the street. Jeongin could only watch, frozen as the blue blur transformed into a random stranger who wrestled the gun away from Mr. Lee and knocked him out cold with a single, efficient blow. Urgently, he turned back to Jeongin, paling as he caught sight of something over his shoulder. 

“Come on, we have to go RIGHT NOW!” The stranger grabbed Jeongin’s wrist and ran, pulling him down the street. 

“Wh…what?” Jeongin stammered out, unfreezing a little bit from his initial panic, but his mind still wasn’t clear enough to really comprehend what had just happened. Confused as to why he was suddenly running, Jeongin glanced over his shoulder and startled, screaming out a curse word his mother would have killed him for saying. 

The rest of the gang members who had stopped chasing him initially were now sprinting after the two of them, only half a block behind. Shocked out of his numb state, Jeongin sped up enough that the stranger next to him let go of his hand and stopped dragging him. 

“Get back here!” One of them shouted, sounding incredibly out of breath. Jeongin smiled slightly and ran faster, not even questioning it when the stranger next to him also sped up to stay beside him. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: getting away from those men. Everything that had just happened could be dealt with later.

“Turn, turn here!” The young man who’d saved him shouted. He knocked his shoulder into Jeongin, making him stumble a bit as they both took a sharp turn down the alley he’d spotted. The men behind them skidded past the entrance, not expecting the sudden change of direction, and Jeongin and the young stranger took advantage of their mistake to turn again immediately, getting out of sight before the men could see where they went. Jeongin followed the young man blindly as he cut a zigzag pattern through the tall buildings of the district, trusting him to keep them from getting lost. If he’d saved him from Youngsoo, there was no reason for him to lead him in the wrong direction now. 

As the shouts behind them grew steadily quieter, Jeongin finally gave into his curiosity and turned his attention to the stranger in front of him. 

He was small, about a half a head shorter than Jeongin, with black hair that covered his forehead and a pointy chin. Based on Jeongin’s hasty examination, he looked to be a year or two older than him, but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing about his appearance looked particularly dangerous, but Jeongin had seen how easily he’d taken down Youngsoo with nothing but his fists, so the last thing he was going to do was underestimate him. 

In front of him, the young man slowed down suddenly, breathing heavily. 

“There’s no way they could’ve followed us with whatever weird ass pattern we just cut through those buildings.” He said, watching Jeongin carefully as the kid slowed down to match his pace. Jeongin nodded slowly, his eyes darting behind him to reassure himself of that fact. After all, he’d thought the same thing only a few minutes ago when he’d lost them the first time. The young man watched him, a curious expression on his face. 

“Thank you.” Jeongin settled on saying. It didn’t seem like enough, but it was the best he could do at the moment. The stranger nodded, a serious expression on his face. 

“What the hell did you do to piss them off so bad?” Jeongin shrugged, looking at the ground to avoid meeting his curious gaze. The young man narrowed his eyes and stopped walking. 

“I’m serious, those men are dangerous.” 

Jeongin scoffed. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I know that!” He exclaimed, cheeks burning as he finally looked up at the stranger. “I’m the one they betrayed.” All the anger left Jeongin at once and he slumped in on himself, fiddling with his rings. 

I shouldn’t have said that.  

The young man in front of him folded his arms and leveled him with a glare and Jeongin mentally smacked himself. He’s the one who just saved my life, why the hell am I yelling at him?

“I’m sorry.” Jeongin raised his hand and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “You helping me was dangerous, I know.” This time it was the stranger who scoffed, but he let his arms drop and the glare on his face lessened in its intensity. 

“Yeah, you could say that.” 

After a few seconds of the two of them staring at each other, the glare on the stranger’s face disappeared completely and the man sighed, his shoulders dropping in either exhaustion or relief. Jeongin couldn’t tell. 

“Go home kid; find somewhere safe and ride it out—they’ll forget about you soon enough.” The stranger turned and began walking away and Jeongin’s heart stopped. 

“Wait!” 

The young man turned back with a frustrated groan, but the noise quickly died when he saw Jeongin shaking his head quickly, his eyes wide with panic.  

“I can’t go home.” He locked eyes with the stranger, but he hesitated, gnawing his lip nervously. If this stranger was just a regular citizen, then what Jeongin wanted to say would make him call the police, but something in his gut was telling Jeongin to take the chance. No normal person would run at a person holding a gun to save someone they didn’t know. 

“I was one of them.” Jeongin’s voice broke and the stranger’s eyes widened in understanding as he immediately stopped moving. 

“…fuck.” 

The stranger looked around quickly, making sure they were still alone. “Do you have anywhere else to go?” 

“That man… the one who…” The man nodded and Jeongin immediately jumped forward, continuing past that part. “He basically runs my community, he’s friends with my family, he knows where I live…” Jeongin took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging as he was finally hit with the full realization of what was happening. 

“I didn’t mean for it do go this far, I’m really not…” He said shakily, his voice trailing off as he looked back in the direction they’d come from, not even noticing as his hands started to tremble. The young man’s eyes widened and he held his hands out towards Jeongin, but he stopped himself from him touching at the last second. 

“Okay, okay, calm down, we’ll figure something out.” Jeongin turned his head back towards the man sharply, jerking away from his hovering hands. 

“Why would you help me? I don’t even know your name!” The stranger took a step back slowly, keeping his hands up, and smiled.

“Well, we can fix that.” He held out one hand carefully, as if he was making sure he didn’t startle him. 

“Seo Changbin.”

Jeongin stared at the proffered hand for a second and then grasped it firmly, remembering how his father had told him that having a firm handshake was important to making a good first impression. Though this stranger, Changbin, had already saved his life, so Jeongin wasn’t sure if that rule still applied.

Eh, you can never be too careful. 

“Yang Jeongin.” 

Their hands dropped apart and Changbin narrowed his eyes for a second, seeming to think about something, and then turned, gesturing for Jeongin to follow. 

“And as for why I helped you…” Changbin’s voice trailed off as he walked away and Jeongin strained his ears to hear as he hurried after him. 

“You were in trouble.” The man finished nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. 

Well, that was the most black and white answer ever. There’d been a gun pointing at his head, of course he was in trouble! Jeongin huffed. He knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. It’d been a rough day.

After a few minutes, Jeongin realized he had just been blindly following the stranger, Changbin, and he should probably figure out where they were headed. 

“Where are we going?” Changbin didn’t stop walking, but he slowed down so Jeongin could catch up before answering. 

“Well, we need to get off the street, and you can’t go home, so we’re going to my apartment until you can figure out what to do.” He said frankly, just continuing to walk like he’d said nothing out of the ordinary. 

Jeongin blue-screened. 

There was nothing wrong with what Changbin had just said, in fact, it was an extremely thoughtful thing to do, but his mom had always told him not to trust strangers. Unfortunately, she’d never covered what to do if said stranger had already saved his life once and he had literally no other options. 

Jeongin sighed. In his experience, nobody ever just did things out of the goodness of their heart, there was always a catch or something that was expected in return. But Changbin didn’t stop or acknowledge Jeongin’s dilemma, so he did his best to dismiss his worries and continued following the strange man. 

It took about 20 minutes of walking before Changbin stopped in front of a rundown apartment building and shoved his hand in his pocket, digging around for his keys. Jeongin just leaned against the wall and waited. 

“Ugh, come on…” Changbin switched and dug his hand into his other pocket, making his shirt ride up in the back. Revealing the gun that was still tucked in his waistband. 

As soon as Jeongin saw the weapon, he pushed off the wall and stepped back quickly, tensing. In the rush of adrenaline that had come with almost dying, he hadn’t noticed Changbin had kept the gun. 

Now, normally guns were no problem for Jeongin. In fact, he actually liked shooting and was pretty handy with a gun if given the chance to use one, but this was different. This gun had almost killed him.

Unaware, Changbin pulled his keys out with a triumphant ‘aha’ and when to unlock the door before realizing Jeongin had stepped back. 

“What?” 

Jeongin just motioned helplessly to the gun and Changbin’s face darkened in understanding. 

“Oh shit, sorry.” He tugged his shirt down to cover the weapon and opened the door, gesturing for Jeongin to go inside. When he didn’t move, Changbin sighed.

“Listen, when we get upstairs I’ll put it away, I promise, but we have to get inside.” Praying his mom wouldn’t kill him when, if, he saw her again, Jeongin nodded and slipped inside behind Changbin. This was probably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. 

No, eavesdropping on that meeting takes the cake one this one. That thought made him chuckle a little bit; this was the weirdest day he’d had in, well, forever. Seriously, the punches just kept coming. 

Jeongin followed Changbin up four flights of stairs, studying the building they were in as he walked. Clearly, they were not in a great part of town. The stairwell was dark and absolutely covered in graffiti, but Changbin seemed to be moving comfortably, which of course made sense, he literally lived here. With a flash, Jeongin realized he had relaxed, unconsciously reacting to Changbin’s body language even if his mind didn’t fully trust him. Shaking his head, Jeongin tensed up again. 

You don’t know him.

Finally, they reached the top of the stairs and Changbin stopped in front of the first door in the hallway, fumbling with the lock for a second before he swung the door open and went inside with Jeongin tentatively following behind. 

“I’m going to put the gun away, give me a second.” Jeongin nodded and stood awkwardly just inside the closed door as he watched Changbin disappear down the hallway that branched off to the left. Curious, Jeongin stepped forward, looking around. To his right, he saw the kitchen, and the living room was directly in front of him, which contained what Jeongin thought looked like the most comfortable couch in the world. It was made of old, broken-in leather and it had a fluffy white blanket thrown over the back of it. 

It was calling to him.

Jeongin peered down the hallway to make sure Changbin was still out of sight and stumbled into the living room, sitting down heavily. For the first time since he’d been caught eavesdropping, Jeongin’s adrenaline faded and his thoughts finally turned to what had happened, no longer tied up with trying to not die. 

It was starting to hit him. 

Jeongin pulled his knees up to his chest and stared into space, trying to process the events that had just transpired. 

He’d almost died. 

He couldn’t go home.

And he was sitting on a stranger’s couch with nowhere to go. 

It was too much, but surprisingly, he didn’t feel panicked or overwhelmed, he just felt numb. So, Jeongin sat, staring at nothing as he waited for Changbin to come back. 

Chapter Text

Click. The gun safe closed, locking automatically, and Changbin heaved a sigh of relief. The kid, Jeongin, had seemed really freaked out by the weapon… Changbin mentally smacked himself. He’d literally just saved Jeongin from being shot by that exact gun, of course he’d be afraid of it. But in his usual familiarity, Changbin had just tucked it into his waistband, not realizing the effect it might have on the kid. 

He really hadn’t been thinking. 

Yeah, no shit, you have a literal child in your apartment and you have no idea what to do with him! Changbin shook his head and shut the closet door, making sure the safe was securely out of sight. Yeah, he might have been a little impulsive in bringing Jeongin back with him, but the kid didn’t have anywhere else to go and he’d clearly been terrified. 

Changbin wasn’t going to just leave him on the street. 

Whatever, what was done was done, no point in worrying about it now. Changbin just hoped he’d actually be able to help the kid. 

Sighing, Changbin pulled a sweatshirt he’d taken out of his closet on over his head and walked out of his bedroom, wondering what the kid was going to decide to do. But when he reached where he’d left Jeongin, the sight of the empty entryway made him freeze. 

Oh god, did I already lose him? 

“Jeongin?” Changbin called, trying not to sound too panicked as he looked around. He couldn’t have just left… could he? Changbin turned around, peering around the corner to the living room and the kitchen and catching sight of the bright blue head of hair after a second. 

Phew. He hadn’t lost him. 

Thanking whatever deity was watching over him, Changbin began to walk into his living room, but something made him hesitate and really look at the kid sitting on his couch.

Something was wrong. 

He hadn’t reacted to his name. He didn’t look like he had even noticed Changbin had returned. Jeongin was just sitting on the couch and staring into space with glassy looking eyes. 

Changbin cursed silently. 

He knew that look. 

“Hey kid, you with me?” He asked quietly, moving further into the living room so Jeongin could see him. The teen in question blinked slowly and turned his head, giving Changbin a small nod when he finally noticed he had come back. 

Changbin shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. They needed to figure out what to do, but Jeongin didn’t look like he was in a good frame of mind to bring up that subject, so Changbin was at a loss. He stood awkwardly in front of the kid on his couch for a couple of seconds before an idea hit him and he jumped at the opportunity to be helpful. 

“I’m going to make some tea, do you want some?” Jeongin took a second to process that. After a second he nodded again, moving his head a little more this time, and swiped a hand across his eyes tiredly. Thankful for something to do, Changbin turned around and walked to the kitchen, which was conveniently only separated from the living room by a breakfast bar so he could keep an eye on the kid as he made their drinks. 

As he bustled around the kitchen, Changbin let his mind wander, wondering about how his day had gotten so weird. He’d left his house this morning with the sole intention of going to buy some groceries; he certainly hadn’t expected to see someone holding a kid at gunpoint and end up accidentally kidnapping that shell shocked teen.

Changbin sighed, rummaging in his cabinet for a box of tea. It hadn’t been his intention, but he had Jeongin now, so he was going to do his best to help him. 

The kettle whistling pulled him out of his own head and Changbin quickly grabbed the first tea he could find, chai, and placed a bag in each of the mugs he’d prepared. The kettle shrieked at him angrily, telling him to hurry up, so Changbin quickly pulled it off the heat and poured the water into the two mugs. A little bit splashed out onto his hand and Changbin hissed, barely saving himself from dropping the whole kettle onto the floor. 

As the water slowly turned a deep brown color, Changbin pulled a jar of honey out of the cupboard, hesitating when he went to sweeten the second cup of tea. Did Jeongin want honey? Did he even like chai? Shrugging, Changbin put a little bit of honey in Jeongin’s mug. Less than he’d used in his own, but enough that the kid would be able to taste it. 

Hopefully he liked it. 

Tea in hand, Changbin walked back into the living room and set Jeongin’s mug on the coffee table in front of him, frowning when the kid didn’t react to the movement at all. But there wasn’t anything else he could think to do to help, so Changbin mentally shrugged. Sighing, he plopped down on the couch next to Jeongin, startling him a little bit as he grabbed the remote. 

“Do you like horror?” 

The fog in Jeongin’s eyes cleared a little at that and he shot Changbin a small smile and nod, shocking Changbin a bit with his enthusiasm. Welp, I guess we’re watching horror now. He clicked onto Netflix and started scrolling through the movie selections.

“Alright then, which one you wanna watch?” 

Jeongin twisted his lips, looking as though he was thinking about his movie selection, but to Changbin’s surprise, he slowly reached his hand over and stole the remote. 

“Yah!” Changbin yelled, immediately kicking himself when he realized he’d just yelled at a traumatized kid who he’d literally just met. But surprisingly, Jeongin didn’t seem to mind; he was actually smirking as he scooted away from Changbin and started scrolling through the movies on his own. Changbin grinned a little and sat back on the couch, muttering ‘you brat’ under his breath. 

Eventually they were going to have to talk about what the hell had just happened, but for now, Changbin was content with just keeping this kid safe, off the street, and at least somewhat comfortable. Next to him, Jeongin finally selected a movie—A Quiet Place—and settled into the sofa, picking up his tea and smiling after he took a sip.

Thank god, he did like it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Changbin?”

“Yeah?” Changbin muttered sleepily, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes as he tore his attention away from the screen that was still quietly playing their movie. 

“What do I do now?” 

Jeongin’s quiet voice cracked at the end of his sentence and he took a shaky breath, sounding like he was holding back tears. 

Shit. 

Changbin immediately snapped out of his daze and grabbed the remote off the coffee table, pausing the movie. He’d been expecting this to come up eventually, but he’d kinda been hoping by the time the kid asked he would’ve thought of a better solution. Not that that was a very high bar; right now he was just coming up blank. 

Next to him, Jeongin took another deliberately slow breath and pulled his knees up to his chest, rustling the fluffy blanket that had somehow ended up wrapped around his shoulders as he tucked his feet underneath himself. Settled into a ball, Jeongin looked up at Changbin hopefully. 

Oh shit, he actually expects me to have an answer. Changbin took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, hoping he wasn’t about to completely crush this kid’s hopes and dreams. 

“Well…you don’t have many options.” 

Too direct? 

Jeongin let out an unsteady breath and covered his face with the blanket, shaking his head from side to side to try to stop the tears that were beginning to roll down his face. After a second, he lowered the blanket back into his lap, tried to stop his lips from quivering, and looked back at Changbin, who’d been diligently studying the carpet. 

“I can’t go home at all, can I?” 

There was a flicker of hope in Jeongin’s tone, a desperate plea to let his life return to what it had been this morning. But Changbin shook his head, hating himself for it as he watched the hope fade out of Jeongin’s expression and the kid nod sadly. 

“Listen, kid, if you were a part of that gang…” Jeongin flinched, but Changbin kept going, “If they turned on you, for whatever reason, they’ll kill you if they find you. It’s just too risky for you to go home, for both you and your family.” He added suddenly, but it had the opposite effect he’d intended. 

“Well then what am I supposed to do!?” Jeongin shouted suddenly, uncurling from his tense position on the couch and jumping up. Running a frantic hand through his blue hair, Jeongin started pacing around the living room as Changbin watched with a heavy heart. 

He didn’t have any good news. 

“I don’t have other family, I don’t have money, I don’t have…” Jeongin’s voice broke and he stopped pacing, locking eyes with Changbin. “I don’t know what to do.” 

All Changbin could do was shrug lamely, woefully underprepared for this situation. But to his surprise, Jeongin just started laughing brokenly. 

“And now I’m yelling at you about it when you just saved my life and let me come to your apartment and I don’t even know you and…”

“Stop.” 

Jeongin stilled at Changbin’s serious tone, and Changbin froze, hoping he hadn’t misunderstood. He’d just wanted to stop the kid from panicking, but it looked like Jeongin thought he was mad at him. Trying to correct himself, Changbin opened his mouth to say something, anything to correct himself, but Jeongin cleared his throat, cutting him off.  

“I’m sorry.” He bowed, not making eye contact with Changbin. “Thank you for helping me, I’ll get out of your way now.” Changbin quickly rose, a sound of dismay falling from his lips, but he was too late. As he watched, Jeongin bowed again, smoothly pulled on his shoes, and slipped out the door. 

What just happened? 

The movie was still paused on the TV and the blinds behind Changbin flapped in the breeze the door had created, but the room was colder than it had been a second ago. There was a battle going on in Changbin’s mind. On one hand, he couldn’t force Jeongin to stay—the kid was right, he was a stranger. The last thing he wanted to do was actually kidnap Jeongin. 

But on the other hand, he was a kid. A kid who had just told Changbin he had nowhere to go before leaving alone in a district where a gang was scouring the streets for him. 

It was the easiest decision of Changbin’s life. 

His mind made up, Changbin unfroze and practically flew to the door, wrenching it open and descending the stairs two at a time. There was no way he was going to let that gang kill the kid he’d just saved, and if by some miracle Jeongin did make it out of the district alive, Changbin wasn’t about to let him sleep under a bridge or behind some dumpster. The ground really wasn’t comfortable; he should know.

However, Jeongin had obviously left for a reason, and he couldn’t just drag him back against his will; he needed to convince him to come back and stay with him for just one night. After that they could figure something out. 

Changbin wasn’t sure why he felt so strongly about this, but his overprotective mode had kicked in as soon as he’d seen that gun pointed at Jeongin. Then he’d really met him, seen those innocent and carefully mischievous fox eyes, and his heart had melted. 

A biting cold wind hit him as he pushed the door to his building open, drawing his attention to the quickly darkening sky. 

Awww, damn it. 

He needed to catch up with Jeongin before they both got soaked. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Jeongin shuddered as the wind cut through his sweatshirt, tousling his hair so that it fell into his eyes. Huffing, he blew the strand of hair out of his face and kept walking, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. He was already missing Changbin’s fluffy white blanket. 

A drop of water fell on his head and Jeongin looked up, startled by how dark the sky was. Hadn’t it only been four? A loud clap of thunder made him jump, confirming his suspicious as that one drop of water turned into a light drizzle. Quickly, Jeongin scanned the street for a place to hunker down and ride out the storm. Almost as soon as it’d begun, the rain turned into a downpour and as if on cue, the streetlight on the other side of the street clicked on, flickering ominously as it illuminated an alley with a fire escape going up the side of one of the buildings. It had a more or less solid platform a few meters off the ground, but the ladder hung down just far enough that Jeongin thought he might be able to grab it if he jumped. 

Well, he was cold and wet and out of options, so fire escape it was.

Jeongin darted across the street, carefully watching the cars driving past. He and Changbin hadn’t run far enough to get out of his district, and it was slowly dawning on him just how much danger he was in. Any one of those cars could hold the men searching for him. 

Shuddering as the water dripped down his neck, Jeongin pulled his hood up, hiding his conspicuous blue hair. 

You should’ve just stayed with Changbin. Jeongin shook his head quickly, trying to get rid of that thought. Changbin had saved his life, given him a place to lay low for a couple of hours… Jeongin couldn’t ask for more than that. He hated owning people too much. 

The wind picked up and the rain started coming down in sheets, so Jeongin ran for the alley, hoping it would provide a little shelter. The tall buildings on either side blocked the wind a little, but he was still getting soaked, so Jeongin hugged the wall under the fire escape and studied it closely. It looked like it was just close enough that he would be able to reach it and the platform above him looked warmer and drier than the ground. 

“Hey!” A voice rang out down the street and Jeongin froze, immediately tensing. Footsteps came towards him, sounding closer and closer as someone ran on the wet pavement and Jeongin panicked, leaping for the ladder. 

In slow motion, the cold metal brushed against his fingertips and Jeongin’s heart leapt into his throat as they slipped. He tried to land on his feet, but when he hit the ground, his shoes slipped on the wet concrete and he fell hard. 

Why couldn’t I be taller?

A pained groan escaped him before Jeongin clapped a hand over his mouth and scooted back towards the wall as fast as he could, trying to hide. 

Too late. 

“Jeongin?”

A man was standing in the entrance to the alley, looking like an angel framed by the light of the streetlamp. A very short, wet, and intimidating one at least. 

“Changbin?” 

Jeongin pushed himself halfway up the wall and grimaced as he accidentally pressed on bruises that were surely going to form from that fall. Changbin walked towards him carefully, eyebrows furrowing as he caught the kid’s pained expression, but Jeongin cut him off before he could open his mouth to ask. 

“What are you doing out here?” Changbin chuckled and held out his hand, water dripping off his extended fingers. 

“Following you.” Jeongin snorted and accepted his hand, gritting his teeth as Changbin gently hoisted him off the ground. His knee almost buckled when Changbin let go, but he steadied himself against the wall, watching as his… friend… peered around the corner and down the street. As he watched, Changbin turned back and gestured sharply with his head, calling Jeongin over. 

“We’re not safe here, I saw at least two unmarked cars patrolling the area on the way here.” Changbin ducked back into the alley as a car drove by, dragging Jeongin with him. “It’s a wonder they haven’t caught us already.”

Jeongin narrowed his eyes at Changbin’s back. There were too many things about him that were fitting together in a very concerning way. How easily he’d taken Mr. Lee out, the familiarity with which he’d handled that gun, the in depth knowledge on the gang chasing him. 

It seemed like jumping to conclusions to say that he was a criminal, but everything Jeongin saw seemed to point to that. 

… but he was helping him. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Changbin crept out onto the street, staying low, and Jeongin hesitated, fighting with himself. His morals were screaming at him to run in the other direction, but his self-preservation wanted him to follow. After all, Changbin had saved him once, putting a target on his own back doing so; he (hopefully) wasn’t going to steer him wrong now. 

And he’d made him tea. 

Jeongin pushed all the negative thoughts away and hurried to follow his friend. Changbin didn’t mention his hesitation, so they sprinted down the street, the only noise being the quiet splashes as they stomped through puddles. At one point a car with tinted windows drove by slowly, its headlights piercing through the rain, and Jeongin yanked Changbin down behind a parked car to hide. 

“YA-” Jeongin clapped a hand over Changbin’s mouth and held a finger to his lips. 

“Shhh, they’re right next to us.” He whispered. Changbin’s eyes widened and he nodded slowly, so Jeongin released his hand and they both held their breath. After a second, they heard the car start moving again and Jeongin let out a sigh of relief. Changbin punched his shoulder gently, startling him. 

“Thanks.” Jeongin smiled and stood up warily, letting Changbin lead them down the street again as he watched their backs.

There was one other close call, but after about 15 minutes of ducking and weaving through streets in the pouring rain, they made it back to Changbin’s building. Jeongin followed Changbin up the stairs for the second time that day, feeling slightly guilty for dripping water all over the floor. But only slightly, it didn’t look like anyone cleaned this building anyway. 

Changbin fumbled with his door for a second before finally getting it open and walking in, but Jeongin hesitated in the hallway. This time, Changbin commented on it. 

“Jeongin, I wouldn’t have run after you in the rain if I didn’t want you in my apartment.” Jeongin looked up sheepishly and smiled, stepping inside and watching as Changbin disappeared down the hallway. All of a sudden, a towel flew at him, almost hitting him in the face before he caught it. 

“You want first shower?”

~~~~~~~~~~

Jeongin snuggled into the fluffy white blanket he’d already decided he was going to steal, listening to the shower run in the other room as he lay on the couch. He still didn’t know what he was going to do, but Changbin had offered him a place to stay at least for one night, so Jeongin was going to take advantage of it. His eyes drifted shut of their own accord, the loud humming of the window ac unit combined with the sounds of the street lulling him to sleep.

He could figure out what to do tomorrow. 

In the other room, Changbin stepped out of the shower and dried off, pulling on his sweatpants and t-shirt methodically. Once dressed, he opened the door and walked into the living room, smiling softly when he caught sight of the sleeping boy on his couch. He had no idea what Jeongin was going to do in the morning; the gang was definitely still going to be looking for him. 

Hang on a second.

Changbin scrunched his eyebrows together and walked into the kitchen, pulling open a drawer that was filled with random receipts, pens, and general junk. In the very bottom, underneath a box of matches, sat a business card—all black with a single silver number. Changbin reached in and took it out slowly, holding it up to the dim stove light to study it. 

It had been given to him by a middleman, a messenger who wasn’t actually a part of the whole thing but had been paid to tell him about the offer. Changbin’s first reaction had been surprise at even being approached; he wasn’t exactly well known in criminal circles. After all, that was his whole job. Find the target, neutralize it, and move on before anyone could figure out what had happened. He was supposed to be a ghost, and he did his job well. 

So, he’d been shocked that he was being recruited. 

But that had been almost a week ago, and he hadn’t called.

Changbin was content with the life he’d had. He had an apartment and a steady-ish income from both working as a hitman and doing odd jobs for a construction company down the road, more than he’d ever had in the past.

But circumstances had changed. Now, he had saved the kid who was sleeping on his couch, putting his own head on the chopping block. If they stayed here, the gang would find them, Changbin knew enough about them to know that was true. 

The card was a chance. 

Changbin didn’t know the details, but if Jeongin had been a member of the gang, he had to know how to handle a gun, so he might be a good asset to whatever this job was. Changbin himself had been doing this kind of work for as long as he’d been on his own, almost two years at this point. And the one question he’d made sure to ask the middleman was if the job came with benefits. The man had just smiled and answered, a safe house, food, supplies… all provided for. It was the perfect solution, with one problem. 

Changbin had been recruited; Jeongin had not. 

So really, the question was how bad did the person/people running this job want Changbin? Because if they wanted him on their team enough, he could be able to leverage that to make them take Jeongin too. That would give them both a way to disappear until things in this district calmed down, and it might pay pretty well too. 

Alright then, time to see what the kid thinks. 

Changbin walked back into the living room, feeling almost bad that he had to wake Jeongin up—he looked so peaceful—but he’d had the card for almost a week now and if Jeongin did want in, the sooner Changbin called the better. 

“Hey, kid… hey.” He shook the kid’s shoulder gently and Jeongin startled awake, his normally thin eyes even smaller with sleep. Confused and disoriented, Jeongin looked around slowly, eventually settling on Changbin standing over him. 

“What? Something wrong?” Changbin chuckled at the slurred words, watching as Jeongin’s eyes slowly drifted shut again. He gently took hold of his shoulder and shook him again, watching as the kid made a visible effort to stay awake this time.

“No, nothing’s wrong, but I think I figured something out and I need your opinion.” 

That woke Jeongin up. Groaning, he pushed himself into a sitting position, eyes open and at least slightly aware, but the fluffy blanket was still tucked tightly around him. There was no way he was going to give that up. 

“What is it?”

Changbin took a deep breath and pulled the card out of his pocket, handing it to the kid. Jeongin took it curiously and looked it over, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“Someone gave me that card a couple of days ago, trying to recruit me for a job.” Jeongin raised an eyebrow and Changbin continued carefully. “It’s a fully provided for gig, in a different district, and the time frame is about three weeks or so—long enough for the gang to stop scouring the streets for you so you could slip back in here unnoticed.” Silence followed as his statement sank in, but after a second Jeongin flipped the card around and gestured with it. 

“I wasn’t recruited.”

Damn okay, he caught that quick.

“I can get you in.” The ‘hopefully’ went unsaid. “So, what do you think?”

Jeongin studied the card closely. After a few seconds, he looked up, his eyes fully awake at this point. After all, this was his life on the line.

“If I run, they’ll never believe that I wasn’t a snitch.” Changbin’s eyes darkened and he ran a hand through his hair, wondering if there was a nicer way to say what he wanted to tell Jeongin. 

There wasn’t. 

“Would you rather run and stay alive, or save face and have them kill you anyway?” He asked frankly. Jeongin frowned and looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but Changbin had gotten his point across. 

“Three weeks?”

“Should be.”

“And you’re sure you can get me in?”

“Well, we won’t know until we try. Are you in?”

Jeongin nodded and handed the card back, watching as Changbin pulled out his phone and dialed the number. 

“I can go to another room if you want to go back to sleep.” Changbin offered, but Jeongin quickly shook his head and sat up straighter. 

“I want to listen. If that’s okay…” He added, suddenly sounding shy. Changbin shrugged and hit call, holding the phone up to his ear. It rang twice before someone picked up and Changbin waved his hand at Jeongin to tell him someone was on the other side. 

“Hello?” The voice sounded young, but the tone was confident and Changbin relaxed slightly. Confidence was a good sign. 

“This is Changbin.” Jeongin leaned forward, blanket slipping down slightly as he strained to hear the other side of the conversation. The voice on the other end of the line spoke quietly, but he could just barely make out what was being said. 

“Ah, Changbin. Have you made a decision about the offer?” Changbin took a deep breath and committed. 

“I have, but I have some conditions.” The room stilled, both people holding their breath as they waited for a response. What they got was a dry chuckle coming over the line. After a slight pause, the noise stopped and the man spoke again. 

“And what would those be?” Changbin smiled slightly; he hadn’t shut him down completely. 

“How do you feel about another crew member?” Jeongin tensed, squeezing the blanket tightly in his fist. 

“That depends entirely on who you’re suggesting.” That wasn’t a no. Changbin gestured to Jeongin, miming a pen, and Jeongin understood immediately, grabbing the pad of paper and pencil that were sitting on the coffee table and starting to write down his qualifications. Changbin leaned over and read from the pad as he wrote. 

“Just a supporting man—he’s got experience with weapons, running jobs, can navigate through almost any district, and can do some grifting.” His voice went up on the last part of the sentence, surprised. The kid was more dangerous than he looked. 

“Impressive.” The voice on the other side of the line hummed, sounding deep in thought. 

“What’s his name?”

Changbin looked at Jeongin, raising an eyebrow. Once he told this man his name, there was no going back. Jeongin understood that, but he was also more prepared than Changbin knew. On the pad, he wrote two letters and underlined them twice. Changbin read them out; he was getting more and more impressed with this kid. 

“I.N.”

One beat, two beats…

“And I’m assuming if I accept I.N., you’ll accept the offer as well?”

“Yes.” There was a slight pause and the sound of a keyboard clicking came over the line before the voice spoke again. 

“Then meet me on the old bridge over the Muhan River at 2 tomorrow; I.N. should know where that is.” The line beeped, signaling the end of the call, and Changbin lowered the phone from his ear, locking eyes with Jeongin. 

“Well, we have a meeting tomorrow.” Jeongin nodded and smiled as Changbin walked towards his room, talking over his shoulder. 

“Get some sleep, I.N.”

Chapter Text

“Oi, get back here!”

“Sorry, excuse me, sorry!” A teenager wove though the bustling crowd, quickly darting from place to place and frantically apologizing as he bumped into random people. Panting, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder and hissed through his teeth, speeding up even as he almost tripped over a random persons foot. 

“Someone stop that kid!” A large bald businessman with a briefcase followed him closely, swearing as he watched the teen slip through gaps in the crowd where he certainly wouldn’t be able to follow. 

At first glance, it was hard to tell why the kid was being chased.

But a closer look revealed a diamond studded watch that definitely didn’t belong to him dangling from the boy’s grip and a satisfied expression underneath his obvious panic. 

“Thief! Stop that thief!” The crowd ignored the irate man, too busy with their shopping and food to care much about his situation. And through them, the boy slipped, running faster than he’d thought he could or ever wanted to again. It only took him a few seconds to lose the businessman, but he continued to run for a couple more minutes, wanting to get as far away from potential danger as he could. Eventually, he found a decently secluded alleyway and slipped inside, leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath.

A minute passed and he stopped panting, but luck was really not on his side today.

“You’d better be careful, you could get in some real trouble doing that.” The boy swung his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash. He spied a young man leaning against the wall on the other side of the alley, just far enough down to be completely hidden from the street.

He was dressed all in black, completely encased in shadow, and there was something about him that put the teen on edge. Maybe it was the way he stood, the gleam in his eyes, the easy way he spoke, but he looked dangerous.

“I know what I’m doing.” The teen stood straight up, still panting. His wrist twitched slightly and the watch abruptly disappeared from his hand, the shine from the diamonds vanishing faster than an unobservant person could catch. 

Apparently the man across from him wasn’t unobservant. 

“I’m sure you do,” The young man pushed himself off the wall and locked eyes with the teen, catching his full attention. “Han.”

Man, Jisung had not been expecting that. 

Han was his criminal name, the persona he took on when he needed to distance himself from stealing in order to survive. Admittedly, it hadn’t been the smartest name to use because it was literally his last name, but regardless, it made Jisung feel better that this random guy didn’t know his first name. 

He caught himself stepping back and stopped, holding his ground against the strange man. His mother always said he had a quick tongue, usually not as a compliment, but his sister had always told him to use it. And man, had he had a lot of practice doing just that. 

Jisung smirked. He could turn this around.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Han held his hand out and waited. As he had expected, the young man’s expression fell for a split second, the confidence being replaced with confusion before his mask was pulled up again. He didn’t answer and didn’t take Jisung’s hand; he just cocked his head at him, taking control of the situation. 

Jisung dropped his hand and leaned against the wall behind him, faking an absurd amount of confidence and comfort that he definitely didn’t have. 

“Who are you?” 

And right there, his curiosity got the better of him. 

Damn it! Jisung cursed at himself internally. That was one of the things he’d learned over the years, if someone has an advantage over you, you never acknowledge it. He’d just given this stranger the upper hand. 

“Someone who has a proposition for you.” The young man crossed his arms, regarding the teen in front of him seriously. A flicker of emotion showed across his face, too fast for Jisung to catch what it was, but enough for him to realize the person across from him wasn’t that much older than he was. He handled himself in a way that screamed experience, but experience didn’t always equal age—this guy couldn’t be over 21. 

“I’m running a job.” Han’s ears perked up at that. A job meant money, and a big enough one for him to get recruited meant a lot of money. “And I need a pickpocket.”

Jisung scoffed. 

“I prefer the title ‘sleight of hand enthusiast’ actually.”

The young man raised his eyebrows, chuckling quietly, and nodded. 

“Alright then, do you want in, Mr. ’sleight of hand enthusiast’?” Jisung pursed his lips. An actual answer to that question was going to take him a little longer to come up with than one of his witty quips. 

“I don’t know.” He answered slowly. The man nodded as if he’d been expecting that and pushed off the wall, walking towards Jisung. 

“You don’t have to have an answer right away.” The man slipped his hand into his pocket and fished out a business card, handing it to Jisung. It was all black, with a single silver phone number shining from the center of the card in the afternoon sun. That was it, no names or any context given at all. 

But his attention was drawn away from the card when the young man offered him his hand.

“Just think about it."

Jisung grasped his hand firmly, tucking the business card into his pocket with his other hand and jumping slightly when his fingers brushed against the cold metal of the watch he completely forgot he’d stolen.

“My name’s Bang Chan.”

“Nice to meet you.” Chan smiled and their hands dropped apart. 

“Call me.” And with that, he turned and walked down the street, vanishing into the crowd. Jisung watched him go for a second, wondering what the hell just happened. 

But after a few seconds of watching Chan’s retreating figure, angry yelling sounded from down the street, drawing his attention away from the man disappearing into the crowd. He peeked out of the alley and caught sight of a red faced businessman screaming at a police officer, spittle flying as he ‘reported’ the crime that had just been committed against him.

With a jolt, Jisung remembered he was the culprit and quickly slipped away, wrapping the crowd around him like a blanket as he disappeared, heading to find a buyer for his nice new watch. 

He had a lot to think about.

~~~~~~~~~~

The bell on the door jingled happily. 

“Good morning Daejoon!” The old man looked up from where he was cleaning his glasses behind the counter and squinted at whoever had just entered his shop. Quickly, he pushed his spectacles back up his nose and smiled as he recognized a familiar face. 

“Hello Han, how are you today?” The pawn shop owner asked, his eyes wrinkling as he took in the teen’s usual rumpled appearance. Noticing the expression, Jisung straightened up and grinned lopsidedly, leaning against the counter across from his friend. 

“I’m doing well, you?” 

“I’m alright, just wish business would pick up. It’s been a pretty slow day so far.” Daejoon answered, picking up his glass cleaner and a cloth to start cleaning his glass cases. Jisung hummed and moved out of the way, watching as he swept his cloth over the smudge he’d left on the counter. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as Jisung perched himself on the edge of a large globe that sat in the corner, watching Daejoon clean and organize the small pawn shop. 

The two of them had been going through this sort of routine for almost a year now. Jisung would come in, hang out for a bit, sell whatever he’d recently ‘acquired’ to Daejoon for a very reasonable price, and then wish him the best. It was the first time he’d been into the shop in almost two weeks, but Daejoon knew how their system worked, so he let Jisung be, waiting for him to make his pitch. 

It took about 20 minutes. 

“Want to see what I’ve got?” Daejoon looked up from where he’d been taking inventory and smiled, nodding at the young man. Jisung grinned and hopped off the globe, bouncing towards the counter energetically as he dug in his pocket for the watch. 

Carefully he placed it on the counter and stepped back, anxiously awaiting Daejoon’s appraisal. Across from him, the owners mouth dropped open and he reverently picked up the watch, examining it with an experienced eye. As he moved it around, the diamonds caught the light and Jisung tapped his foot nervously. This was easily the most valuable thing he’d brought into the shop, and he really didn’t know what Daejoon was going to say. Jisung watched as he carefully set it back down and looked up at him, narrowing his eyes. 

“Where did you get this?” Jisung shrugged noncommittally, looking at the floor. Daejoon knew where his products came from, so if he was asking, that meant he thought Han had taken it off of a target that was too high profile and would draw too much attention. 

He was right. 

“Han, this is too far.” Jisung’s eyes snapped up and he opened his mouth to defend himself, but Daejoon cut him off. 

“I know this is a good deal for both of us, god knows we need the money, but this is too risky.” He gestured to the door. “What do I do if someone comes in and recognizes this as something I definitely shouldn’t have?” He sighed heavily. “No normal pawn shop would have this watch on display, it’s worth too much money!” Jisung looked down as Daejoon continued. 

“What do I do if the police close my shop?” He looked down at the watch and then, as if making up his mind, pushed it back across the counter to Jisung. 

“I can’t buy this.”

Jisung closed his eyes for half a second and nodded slowly, trying to hold his tears back. 

“I don’t have anything else today.” He confessed slowly. 

Daejoon sighed heavily and drug his hand over his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. He knew what that meant. 

Jisung wasn’t just talking about having no other products to sell, he was saying he didn’t have anything. Daejoon didn’t know much about the young man across from him, but he knew enough to know that he wouldn’t be in this kind of business if he didn’t have to be.

But it was still too risky.

“I’m sorry.” 

Every part of Jisung was screaming, but as much as he wanted to hate the old man, Han knew he was right. The pawn shop couldn’t buy such a valuable item without drawing too much attention. Quickly, before he could think too much about what that answer actually meant for him, Jisung grabbed the watch and stuffed it back into his pocket, turning away from the counter. 

As he opened the door, Jisung turned around slightly, catching the look of pity on Daejoon’s face. The man raised his hand and Jisung nodded, turned around and walking out. But as the door closed behind him, he barely caught the whispered farewell from his friend, a phrase that he was intimately familiar with. 

“Keep fighting.”

Jisung broke.

His mom used to say that.

The bell jingled once again as the door shut and Jisung ran, not caring where he ended up. Tears running down his cheeks, he wove through the streets and alleys of his district, mumbling apologies as he bumped into tourists. It was the first time in a while that he’d run through a crowd like that and not stolen at least one wallet, but he really wasn’t in the mood. 

Heart pounding in his chest, Jisung finally stopped a few minutes later, finding himself in a random park that was probably super far away from his apartment. But to be honest, Jisung couldn’t have given less of a shit at the moment. 

The park was nice. 

The autumn leaves were waving in the breeze, creating a lovely white noise that distracted Jisung just enough to keep his mind occupied. There were beautiful brick pathways running through the trees that were lined with flowers and benches. It was calm; peaceful. 

Exactly the opposite of how Jisung was feeling.

Panting heavily, he plopped down on one of the benches and put his head in his hands, sniffling quietly. 

What do I do now? 

He had a watch that he couldn’t sell, a warrant out for his arrest, and an eviction notice hanging on his apartment door. He hadn’t finished high school, he didn’t have any qualifications for an actual job… Jisung curled his hands around his arms and squeezed, trying to stop his mind from running off the tracks. There had to be something, anything that he could do to fix this. 

With a jolt, Jisung sat up. 

“Bang Chan!” His shout startled an older lady walking past him and she jumped, making Jisung quickly bow in apology as she continued by his bench. 

Bang Chan was his way out.

Jisung didn’t know how that strange encounter could have slipped his mind, but he remembered now, so it didn’t really matter. Quickly, he dug his hand into his pocket, ignoring the cold metal of the watch he’d rather forget about in favor of the slim card that had been haphazardly shoved beneath it. 

The black card reflected the light of the streetlamp as Jisung examined it carefully. It was odd; not like any business card he’d ever seen before. No context, just a silver phone number that Jisung assumed would directly contact Bang Chan. 

God, he hoped he was right about this.

Jisung stood up and started walking down the path, appreciating the beauty of the park while he dialed the number on his phone. He’d never actually taken a job bigger than just his own pickpocketing, so this was way out of his league. 

Ring… Ring…“Hello?” 

Jisung took a deep breath.

“Bang Chan?” The voice on the other side of the line hummed quietly before answering.

“Who is this?” 

Jisung smirked.

“Your sleight of hand enthusiast.” 

“Han?” Bang Chan sounded genuinely surprised. Which made sense, it had only been about four hours since he’d given him the card. 

“You in?” Jisung paused. He knew he didn’t have any other options, but he’d rather Bang Chan not know that. The last thing he wanted to come across as was desperate. And besides, he was curious about what exactly he was getting himself into.

“I need some details first.”

“Fair enough.” Jisung waited, but Bang Chan didn’t say anything else, so he just started asking his questions.

“How long is this job going to take?” Bang Chan hummed again and Jisung could barely make out some clicking as if he was typing on a laptop.

“Three weeks, give or take.” Jisung’s eyebrows shot up. That was a long time. 

“What are we doing!?” A low chuckle came over the line. 

“I can’t tell you that until you decide you’re in.” 

Fair enough. 

“I’m assuming I’m not the only one you need for this, how many people are on this team?”

“Still up in the air, but around seven.” Ok, wow, that was a lot. Again, Jisung didn’t know much about running big jobs, but seven people seemed like a really large team. What was this job?

“Han?” Jisung started, realizing he’d been silent for a while, processing the answers he’d been given. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Suddenly, another thought came to mind and Jisung didn’t hesitate to ask. “If the job is going to take that long and the team is that big, are we all going to stay in one place? Like a home base or headquarters of sorts?” 

“Depends, are you in?” Jisung smirked. Of course Bang Chan wasn’t going to tell him specifics of anything without knowing if he was committed. Taking a deep breath, Jisung looked up into the sky, watching the orange and red leaves dance in the wind. 

“I’m in.”

Jisung could hear Bang Chan’s smile as he spoke again.

“Then yes, we have a home base of sorts, and you can move in whenever.”

Oh thank god. It was three weeks of stability, kind of, but Jisung would take it.

“What’s the address?”

Chapter Text

Ding, ding, ding. 

Hyunjin startled awake at the sound of the bell and picked his head up off his desk groggily. Disoriented, he blinked, blearily watching his classmates file out the door like robots. It was too early for this. Hyunjin rubbed his face, hoping the sleep marks weren’t too evident, and slid his notebook into his backpack before following the crowd into the hallway.

Wednesdays were a cruel day.

His alarm had gone off at 5:30. But Hyunjin had hit snooze until 6:15—at which point he’d looked at the clock and panicked, immediately rolled out of bed, thrown on whatever clothes were on his floor, and run out the door as fast as he could. The bus had just pulled up to his stop when he’d come flying down the street. But thankfully, the driver had recognized him and held the doors open just long enough so he could stumble aboard with a quick ‘thank you’. 

The music blasting in his AirPods had offered a blissful escape during the long bus ride, improving Hyunjin’s mood dramatically. He was a grump when he was tired, and it didn’t help that the only reason he was up so early was to go to an Art History class. Groaning internally at that reminder, Hyunjin had exited the bus with a small smile to the driver and headed for his class.

As he’d slipped quietly into the classroom and claimed his spot at the back, Hyunjin had studied his classmates. 

Everything was exactly the same.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he was so surprised, it wasn’t like the world had stopped turning because of him, but he’d thought maybe something would have changed. The business card was burning a hole in his mind, tucked deep into a pocket in his backpack. It didn’t seem fair that none of his fellow students were carrying the same weight, even though Hyunjin would never wish such a thing upon any of them. He hated seeing people struggling.

Why did I even bring it with me? It had been a last minute decision as he’d run out the door, the black card taunting him from where it still sat on his kitchen table. Even three days after Bang Chan had given it to him, it was still on the forefront of Hyunjin’s mind. He’d tried to forget about it, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to get rid of it. 

And now it was taking up every free thought in his mind. 

Sighing tiredly, Hyunjin had swung his backpack down and sat at his desk, trying to pay attention as the professor started his monotone lecture. 

He’d made it about five minutes. 

Now, as he walked the hallways towards his next class, Hyunjin felt his heart drop even further in is chest. His next class, Painting, had always been his favorite. But right now, he was dreading it. 

His professor was waiting for him outside of his classroom.

“Ah Hyunjin, it’s good to see you.” Hyunjin smiled nervously and adjusted his backpack straps, not making eye contact. His professor, Dr. Park Joon, frowned and motioned for him to follow him to his office. 

“I was concerned when you didn’t show up for class Monday or Tuesday.” Dr. Park flicked on the lights and gestured for Hyunjin to take a seat in the chair sitting opposite him as he gracefully took his seat behind his desk. Hyunjin took a tentative step forward and sat down slowly, looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. Dr. Park sighed and leaned forward, clasping his hands together. 

“Hyunjin, I don’t know why you’re so sullen. You did well!” He leaned back and swiveled his chair around. “Your painting was perfect and we made millions!” Hyunjin flinched. He hadn’t heard that eager tone from Dr. Park before, and he didn’t like it. It sounded too greedy, like he would do anything to get more of whatever had made him that happy. 

Anything to get more money. 

It took every bit of willpower Hyunjin had to stay seated as Dr. Park leaned towards him, a wide smile coloring his normally serious features. 

“I need another one.”

It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over Hyunjin’s head, freezing his insides. This was a man he respected, someone he viewed as a role model, asking for something he knew Hyunjin wouldn’t—couldn’t—give him. He had to know he was never going to make a second forgery… right? 

He stood and shook his head quickly, holding eye contact with his professor. 

“No.” 

That one word was all it took to sour Dr. Park’s good mood. It was as if a light switch had been flipped and his cheery grin was replaced with a glare, making Hyunjin backtrack and drop his confident and secure front.

“I mean, didn’t we make enough money with the first one? Enough to help the program?” 

I did enough already, it was worth it, I’m done… right?

A low chuckle escaped Dr. Park and Hyunjin froze like a deer in headlights as he walked towards him, a hungry and dark expression replacing the glare. Hyunjin would’ve much rather dealt with his anger; this was something new, and he was really not liking it. 

“Oh you naive child. Did you really think this was going to be a one time thing? A million is enough to help the program for maybe a year, but what’ll happen once you leave?” He stopped an inch from Hyunjin’s face, his breath hot on his cheek. 

“You will make another one, or I will tell everyone what you did.”

Hyunjin’s heart stopped. This couldn’t be the same man who had mentored him and grown to be his role model. The person who’d encouraged him when he’d wanted to quit… internally, Hyunjin scoffed.

Now I know why, he didn’t want me to quit because he needed me, not because he liked me.

Unconsciously, his fingers curled around the handle of his backpack, squeezing it tightly as Dr. Park circled him, still talking.

“It’ll be easy,” He gestured in the air wildly with his hand, as if he were a news reporter reading an exciting headline. “Hero teacher uncovers nefarious student’s forgery!” Dr. Park sighed deeply. “Imagine what your poor family would think.” 

Oh god. Hyunjin hadn’t even thought of that. He was from a family of artists, people felt the same way about art as he did—they would disown him. Dr. Park smiled as Hyunjin’s face dropped and his panic showed for the first time. 

“You see, Hyunjin, it wouldn’t even matter if you told on me. Nothing you did can be traced back to me; I made sure of that.” He walked back in front of Hyunjin and leaned in close, finally saying the words Hyunjin had been dreading this entire time. 

“So, you will make me another painting.” Dr. Park smirked. “Or I will ruin you.”

Hyunjin couldn’t breathe. Dimly, he registered a hand encircle his bicep and squeeze tightly, and he snapped into survival mode. In one smooth motion, he twisted out of Dr. Park’s grasp and ran for the door, awkwardly lugging his backpack with him. 

“Hey!” Dr. Park’s voice rang out close behind him and Hyunjin lunged for the door, wrenching it open and diving into the hall. But with freedom in his sights, something caught his backpack and began dragging him backwards. Hyunjin panicked and pulled. The contents of his bag spilled all over the ground, but his bag was free, so Hyunjin quickly scooped up his sketchbook and left everything else, sprinting away from the office and disappearing into the crowd. 

Somewhere behind him, an angry voice screamed his name, but Hyunjin was already gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin ran without knowing or caring where he was going. The wind blew his long hair into his eyes, but Hyunjin kept running, shoving his way through the busy streets with his backpack, still open, thrown hastily over his shoulder. He caught quite a few curious stares directed towards him, so he kept moving, trying to get away from all the people. After a couple of minutes, Hyunjin found himself on a small, deserted street and collapsed on a random bench, panting heavily. 

I was wrong. 

This morning he’d been wishing that something had changed; now he just wanted the life he’d had before all this. 

But there was no way he was going to get it. Dr. Park had made sure of that. Hyunjin had given in once, and it was like that one decision had completely altered his trajectory in life. All the feelings bubbled up in Hyunjin’s stomach—it was making him nauseous. 

“AHHHHHH!” Hyunjin let out a guttural scream, slamming his open backpack onto the ground in front of him. “Why is this happening to me!?”

His words echoed through the empty neighborhood and Hyunjin slumped, rubbing his hand across his eyes tiredly. 

There was no answer. Nothing was that black and white anymore. The life he’d had was gone, now it was up to Hyunjin to make a decision on what to do next. And that… that scared the hell out of him. 

A soft coo caught Hyunjin’s attention and he looked up, catching sight of an indifferent pigeon walking across his scattered belongings. Hyunjin chuckled quietly and waved to the bird. 

“Hey birdie.” He pushed his hair back and gazed at the pigeon as if it held all the answers. “Are you having a better day than me?” 

The bird cooed and Hyunjin started; he hadn’t actually been expecting an answer. The pigeon just cocked his head at him, stared at him for a long moment, and then turned away and began pecking at the ground. The eye contact broken, Hyunjin snapped out of his trance and groaned as he realized his things were still lying all over the sidewalk. Annoyed, he stood up and started collecting his belongings, but to his surprise the bird didn’t fly away in fear as he moved closer. Instead, he just hopped a little bit further away and started pecking at something shining on the ground. 

Curious, Hyunjin pushed himself up from the ground and walked over to the bird, gently shooing him away with his sketchbook. The pigeon fluttered his wings and walked away indifferently, so Hyunjin bent down and picked up the shining thing he’d been pecking at.

And found himself holding the black business card.

Seriously? 

Hyunjin could feel his mouth hanging open in disbelief. How did this stupid little card, out of all the things he’d lost, survive what had just happened? But as he looked at it longer, a small voice in the back of his head whispered to him. 

This is it, this is your chance. 

Everything Hyunjin had been working towards for forever had been snatched away in an instant. He sure as hell wasn’t going back to Dr. Park, which meant he wasn’t going to be able to graduate or keep his apartment, but he couldn’t go home, his parents would disown him as soon as they learned what he’d done… this card seemed like his only option.

Hyunjin sighed heavily. He should probably just go home, sleep on it, and come up with a decision tomorrow when he was actually thinking clearly, but the question mark over his entire life was looming and Hyunjin wanted the uncertainty gone. 

Before he could second guess himself, Hyunjin pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number on the card with shaking hands. He took a deep breath, trying to justify what he was doing. 

It’s not like I’m going to accept immediately, I just want to ask some questions! Hyunjin scoffed at himself and hit call, holding the phone up to his ear. And besides, whatever this job is, at least it’s on my terms and not Dr. Park’s. 

A faint cooing sounded in the distance, and Hyunjin smiled; at least the pigeon supported him.

“Hello?” 

“Is this Bang Chan?” Hyunjin’s voice trembled slightly on the question, so he squared his shoulders and started walking. There wasn’t any sense in showing Bang Chan how few options he really had. 

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Hyunjin.” A few seconds of silence followed his name, and Hyunjin was starting to worry the connection had failed before Bang Chan spoke again. 

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to call either. 

“Circumstances changed.” Was his snippy reply. A snort came over the line and Hyunjin tensed up, pursing his lips in anticipation. 

“Enough to change your morals? You seemed pretty against it when I asked initially.” 

Damn, that hurt. Hyunjin took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay. 

“Listen, I didn’t call to get into an argument. I called because I can’t accept the job without any knowing any details about what I’ll be doing.” Bang Chan sighed on the other end of the phone and Hyunjin prepared himself.

“Well, I can’t tell you much.” 

“I figured.” The sound of keys clicking punctuated the silence and Hyunjin scuffed his feet on the sidewalk, waiting. After a few more seconds, Bang Chan finally started talking again.

“The job will take about 3 weeks, so lodging, supplies, and food will all be taken care of. There are 5 people on the team so far, not including me and you, and you’ll make a pretty sizable amount of money off of it.” Hyunjin took a second to process that and then sighed, his head dropping in defeat. 

“You can’t tell me what I’ll be doing, can you?”

“Not right now.” Bang Chan answered quickly. “But I swear, it’s not what you think it is.”

That sounded a lot more like the Bang Chan he’d met outside his door. With a deep breath, Hyunjin considered everything he’d be leaving if he did this. His program, his family’s legacy, his dreams, even his morals; all gone. But a quiet cough distracted him.

“Oh, Hyunjin, I forgot to mention.” Bang Chan interrupted his train of thought and Hyunjin’s ears perked up in curiosity. “One of the members on the team is really good with computers, and I’m sure he would be able to help you erase anything that connects you to this job or even ‘Pomegranates and squirrels’ once we’re finished. If that’s what you want, of course.” He finished lamely. 

That was all Hyunjin needed. 

“I accept.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure this is the right place?” 

“Yes, Seungmin.” Minho huffed, rolling his eyes. He’d been answering Seungmin’s questions  for the last 20 minutes and they were way past annoying at this point. Out of the corner of his eye, Minho saw Seungmin open his mouth again, so he shoved his shoulder to shut him up. 

“Minh—!”

As Seungmin sidestepped to avoid his hand, he tripped over an empty soda bottle and fell, his panicked yelp cut off by his face disappearing into the pile of greasy garbage bags they had been walking past. The bag he’d been carrying with all of his equipment went flying, and Minho ran for it, barely managing to catch it before it hit the ground. 

Phew. That… would not have been good. 

Minho stood up carefully and slung the bag around his shoulders, jerking when he remembered why it had gone flying in the first place. He quickly turned around to help, but the sight of Seungmin splayed out across the trash heap, flailing like a fish out of water, stopped him. 

Oh, this is too good. 

Seungmin could figure this one out on his own. 

An amused smile spread across Minho’s face as he crossed his arms, watching Seungmin struggle to push himself to his feet. Oblivious, Seungmin just flailed his arms around, managing to push himself up halfway before his hand slipped on a banana peel and he flopped back into the foul smelling trash again. 

This time, Minho couldn’t hold back his laugh. He hid his smile with his hand as Seungmin finally found a dry place to put his hands, getting himself onto his knees, groaning as he wiped whatever he’d fallen into off his face. 

“Oh god, why is it wet?!”

“That’ll teach you to second-guess me.” Minho said, his smile evident in his voice. Seungmin looked over with narrowed eyes, but Minho had wiped the grin off his face before he saw. Stepping carefully, he walked into the garbage heap and pulled Seungmin to his feet by his hood. 

“Ahrgh!” 

As soon as he was upright, Minho let go and backed up, his nose crinkling in disgust as Seungmin immediately started to try to peel the trash off his clothes. 

“You’re certainly going to make quite the first impression.” Seungmin looked up from where he was struggling to pull his hoodie over his head. 

“Do I smell that bad?” 

The look on Minho’s face was answer enough. 

Seungmin’s face crumpled when he looked back down at his sweatshirt, the bright blue fabric wet, stained with something red, and completely covered in coffee grounds. 

“I’m going to have to throw this away, huh?” Minho nodded vigorously, grimacing and holding his nose as he stepped closer. Prying the hoodie out of Seungmin’s fingers, Minho held it gingerly, looking down at the ruined piece of clothing with an unreadable expression. But Seungmin knew. He lunged for his hoodie… only one second too late. Right before Seungmin grabbed it, Minho sidestepped him absentmindedly and threw the sweatshirt into the dumpster. 

“Minho-hyung!”

Seungmin stared, dejected, at the blue hoodie sitting on top of the trash. It hadn’t even been his; Minho had lent it to him that morning. But it was soft and the blue was such a nice color. Had been such a nice color, Seungmin corrected himself with a sigh. 

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” Minho turned and started walking away, leaving Seungmin to scramble after him. As soon as he caught up, Minho spoke again, quieter this time.

“And we’re on a job now, so call me Lee Know.” Seungmin nodded quickly; that was common sense. Of course Minho wouldn’t want his real name being revealed to a team he didn’t know, Seungmin would be stupid to contradict that. And besides, Lee Know tended to be a bit more intimidating than Minho.

A tense silence fell over them as they walked, taking in the atmosphere of the district around them. It… wasn’t great. But that was to be expected, this part of the city had a reputation, and a name that encapsulated it perfectly. 

The Pits. 

Every city had places like it. Those areas the locals know to avoid, the neighborhoods they warn tourists to stay away from. It’s the last place you want your car to break down, and the one area you never stop for any reason driving through. Just walking the streets alone is enough to make you panic and run even if there’s nothing behind you. The feeling of eyes watching your every move is too much, and it doesn’t stop until you’re safely back home or behind a locked door. Everyone knows this place, and everyone steers clear. 

Seungmin shuddered, the omnipresent feeling of eyes tickling the back of his neck. But Minho seemed unaffected, so he straightened his shoulders and moved on quickly, following him through the old, broken-down warehouses that looked like they hadn’t been used in years. It was a good thing they’d brought a map, the warehouses combined with all the random shipping containers made this place into an extremely confusing maze. 

“Keep up.” 

Seungmin snapped out of his thoughts and noticed that at one point, Minho had gotten ahead of him and was now waiting at a T in the road for him to catch up as he double checked the GPS he was following. Seungmin really hoped he hadn’t gotten them lost. He quickened his pace and caught up just as Minho slipped his phone back into his pocket and turned left, motioning for him to follow. He complied, making sure to stay closer this time. In the silence, his mind wandered back to the day before. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Minho hung up with a heavy sigh, throwing his phone onto the couch beside him. Bang Chan had given him an address, the location of his ‘home base’, as he’d called it. At first, he’d tried to give him a secondary location, a place where they could meet up, but Minho had shut him down. They were part of the team, they were going to learn things eventually. There was no reason for him to keep them in the dark. 

“Seungmin?” Minho called out, pushing himself off the couch. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer—Seungmin could get into the zone when he was surrounded by technology. With an amused huff, Minho walked down the hallway and pushed open the door, smiling when he saw Seungmin sitting on the floor surrounded by his screens.

“Hey, I’ve got an address.” Seungmin looked up with bright eyes. 

“To where?”

“His headquarters.”

“That’s stupid of him.” Seungmin scoffed. “He recruited me, he should know what I can find with information like that.” Minho smirked and crossed his arms.

“Do you want the address or not?” Less than 30 seconds later, the warehouse popped up on the computer screen and Seungmin balked. 

There were very few people who called The Pits their home. There were even fewer who lived there without fear. It was an incredibly dangerous part of the city. 

But there were also a handful of people who were the reason behind that reputation.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” And with that, Minho left, off to do whatever he did in his spare time. Seungmin had never felt the need to question him. Shrugging, he turned back to his screens, determined to dig up everything he could on this mysterious Bang Chan. The address didn’t give him much, it was just a broken down old warehouse in the middle of the most dangerous place in the city. But the owner? That could give him everything. 

So, Seungmin dug. A simple google search of the name Bang Chan had given him nothing, but he’d expected that, so he focused on the warehouse. The most recent change of owners had been over three years prior, so much of the information about the sale had been buried. But he knew better than anyone that nothing on the internet was ever really gone, so, he dug deeper. Eventually, the name of the realtor who sold it came up and Seungmin sighed, sitting back and cracking his knuckles. It took him almost 20 minutes, but he managed to hack into her computer, knowing what he needed would be on there. Thankfully, she still worked at the same company, so it wasn’t too hard. 

It only took him like 2 minutes to pull up the company’s old files detailing her previous sales. But as soon as he clicked into the correct folder, Seungmin groaned and hit himself in the forehead with his mouse. This lady was an organizational nightmare. It was going to take him a lot longer to sort through this mess than to hack into anything. 

But it was inevitable, so he dove in headfirst. 

It took him almost an hour and a half to actually find the two documents he’d been looking for—the sales contract and the title to the warehouse. As soon as he pulled them up, Seungmin let out a little squeal and fist pumped happily. The buyer’s name was listed on both.

Christopher Bang.

“Gotcha.”

With a name to work with, Seungmin doubled down on his search, entering it into every search he could think of. But precious little came up. 

Whoever this guy was, he was a ghost. 

But telling Minho he hadn’t found anything was an absolute no go, so Seungmin kept at it, meticulously gathering information on the illusive man. Before he knew it, Minho knocked on the door, shocking him out of his concentration. 

“Yeah?” Minho poked his head into the room, frowning at the boy who obviously hadn’t changed position since he’d left. 

“You’ve been at it for hours.” Seungmin nodded slowly. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty hungry, but that could wait. He flipped his computer around, a headshot and what little information he’d found pulled up for Lee Know to see. 

“Christopher Bang.” Minho’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, but Seungmin ignored him and continued. “Twenty-one years old, multilingual, a self proclaimed ‘artist’. Orphaned at sixteen, but he has one surviving sister and it seems as though they both had sizable inheritances. But,” Lee Know looked up from where he had been studying the screen, waiting for the catch. “After his parent’s death his record completely vanishes.” Seungmin flipped his screen back around and saved his notes before looking back up at Minho. “He completely dropped off the grid; there’s literally no trace of him.”

Minho just looked at him, his mouth agape.

“How…?”

Seungmin shrugged.

“I’ve gotten better since I left.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, snap out of it.”

Seungmin jumped as Minho snapped his fingers right in front of his face, shaking his head to clear it as Minho studied him seriously. 

“Don’t do that. I need you here, now.” Seungmin nodded quickly, bowing his head in apology. His habit of slipping into and reliving memories randomly was a bad one, and it had gotten him in trouble in the past. 

“Sorry.” 

Minho just nodded and turned to keep walking, forcing Seungmin to hurry to catch up. 

They were getting close, he could tell by the way Minho was pulling up his mask, becoming the Lee Know the underworld knew and feared. It was times like this where Seungmin realized how glad he was that he wasn’t his enemy. 

Lee Know stopped at another crossroads and Seungmin followed suit, taking his bag as Minho handed it back. Quickly, he slung it across his shoulders, watching as Lee Know unzipped his coat and put one hand on the gun in his side holster. 

Seungmin knew he had another one around his ankle, and probably a couple knives somewhere up his sleeves, and he couldn’t quite suppress the shudder that accompanied that thought. His world was digital; it was only at times like this when he really understood what he was involved in. 

Well, at least he didn’t have to use a gun. 

A tap on his shoulder redirected his attention and he caught Minho’s unreadable gaze focused on him, one eyebrow raised in question. Seungmin nodded, his grip on his bag tightening. 

He was fine. 

Their destination loomed in front of them, looking just as broken down and dilapidated as every other building in the district. Seungmin supposed that was probably on purpose; the less they stood out the better. He took a deep breath, ready to follow Lee Know to the entrance, but his friend didn’t move. 

And didn’t move. 

And didn’t move. 

They stood there for almost five minutes, just watching the warehouse in front of them. Slowly, Seungmin tapped Minho on the shoulder, but the older man didn’t even turn around. Instead, he just waved his hand, gesturing for Seungmin to just wait. 

This is ridiculous. Bang Chan had invited them, there was no reason to stand across the street and study the warehouse. What was that going to get them? Seungmin rolled his eyes. If he asked, Lee Know would probably say something vague like ‘surveillance’, but surveillance didn’t help if there was nothing to see. 

Sighing, Seungmin leaned his shoulder against the wall, resigning himself to wait however long Lee Know wanted to ‘survey’ the warehouse. 

“What are we looking at?” 

“AHHHHH!” Seungmin screamed, jumping ten feet in the air as a voice spoke from right behind him. In one smooth motion, Lee Know drew his gun, whipped around, and promptly slammed the handle into the stranger’s temple. 

“OW!” Surprisingly, the random person didn’t crumple into unconsciousness; he just let out a string of curse words and brought a hand up to his head like he didn’t quite believe what had just happened. “What was that for!?” He asked in an incredulous tone of voice. 

Minho stared at him, eyes narrowed and shoulders tense, gun still pointed directed at him. Seungmin watched from a few paces away, completely in shock. He’d sworn the street they were standing in had been empty not 10 seconds ago, and yet here was this random kid with a round face and wide, betrayed eyes. 

“Who are you?” Lee Know asked forcefully, clicking the safety off so the stranger would know he meant business. And he did; the kid’s eyes widened for half a second and he let out a nervous laugh, his fingers drumming against his thigh in a sort of rhythm that no one but him could guess the beat to. 

“You’re as jumpy as my old cat, you know.” Seungmin snorted, earning a cold side eye from Lee Know. He just shrugged; this kid was gutsy, it was kind of hilarious. Lee Know ignored him and turned his attention back to the stranger, not relaxing in the slightest. 

“You’re the one who snuck up on us.” The kid stopped his thigh drumming and held up his hands, smiling slightly. To Seungmin, he looked like the picture of calm. To Lee Know, the twitch of his fingertips and the quiver in the corner of his mouth gave him away. But before he could call him out on it, he was speaking again. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just noticed you happened to be studying the very building I was headed to and wondered why, that’s all.” Lee Know’s expression didn’t change, but Seungmin tilted his head, studying the kid closely. 

“You’re lying.” Lee Know said evenly. Seungmin opened his mouth, but another side glare from Minho shut him up fast. 

“You really are like Mittens, she never trusted me either.” He didn’t get a reaction out of either one of them this time, so the stranger sighed and scuffed his foot against the street. “Look, I really am telling the truth. I’m just too curious for my own good.” Lee Know shook his head and gripped his gun tighter, making the kid flinch. 

“Not good enough.”

“Stop.” Lee Know sent Seungmin a venomous glare, but he ignored it. Slowly, he pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaned against and walked towards them, stopping a couple feet from the pair. “He’s telling the truth.” 

“Exactly! See, listen to your friend.” One look from Lee Know and the kid shut up again, muttering out a quick apology. 

“Seungmin…”

“Why don’t we just ask him?” Lee Know’s eyes widened, but before he could stop him, Seungmin had turned back to the stranger. “Does the name Bang Chan ring any bells?” 

Immediately, the kid brightened up and nodded vigorously, shoving his hand into his pocket. Lee Know tensed again, but before he could do anything, the kid had retrieved what he was looking for and was holding it out for both of them to see.

The black business card. 

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Lee Know groaned, shoving his gun back into its holster with more force than was necessary. 

“I guess this means you guys are a part of that team he told me about,” The stranger shoved the card back in his pocket and held out his hand to Seungmin, grinning widely. “I’m Han.”

Seungmin took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Seungmin. And,” He glanced at Minho, who was standing with his arms crossed a few paces away, frowning. “That’s Lee Know.”

They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, none of them knowing quite what to do, but eventually Minho sighed and spoke up. 

“Come on, let’s get inside.” He turned and crossed the street, leaving the two younger boys to hurry after him. Just before he reached the door, it opened on its own, revealing a grinning young man with blonde, curly hair and a black hoodie. 

“Took you guys long enough.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

“I was pretty sure you were dead there for a minute.” All eyes turned to Han, who just shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous grin spreading across his features. 

“Eh, I knew the kitty wouldn’t actually hurt me.” Seungmin’s eyes widened and Chan whistled as Lee Know stalked towards Han, a murderous expression on face. All the blood drained out of Han’s cheeks and he shrieked, running through the door at full speed with Lee Know hot on his heels. 

“Spare meEeEEe!” Han’s scream faded into the distance and Seungmin chuckled. Lee Know was going to kill him. As the door shut behind the pair, Seungmin suddenly remembered where he was, alone in the Pits with the mysterious and probably very dangerous Bang Chan, and he quickly pulled his guard back up. 

But Chan was just chuckling to himself as he pulled out his keys to unlock the door once again. He didn’t look dangerous, but there was something about him that seemed off. Seungmin’s grip on his bag tightened once again and he plastered a smile on his face as Chan finally got the door open and turned back around. 

“Well, I have no idea where the other two went, but would you like a tour?” After a second, Seungmin nodded and followed Chan into the warehouse. 

Wow. The inside did not look anything like what Seungmin had been expecting. The outside looked exactly the same as every other building, but inside the floor had been scrubbed clean and the large metal and concrete area had been fashioned into an actual livable space. 

“Here, we’ll work our way up.” Chan said, gesturing for Seungmin to follow him as he headed for the spiral staircase that stood in the middle of the warehouse, stretching up to a metal loft and down into a small circle cut out of the concrete floor, leaving a very foreboding entrance. Seungmin followed Chan down the steps carefully, watching his head, and his eyes widened as he reached the basement. The staircase ended in a large, cave-like room with a sparring mat on one side and a gym with a bunch of equipment on the other. Chan swung his arm around, a proud smile on his face. 

“This is the training room.” Seungmin nodded, peering around carefully. It was basically just a hole in the ground with no windows, dark walls, and only three bright lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the whole space. 

But it was nice, in a weird sort of way. 

Apparently satisfied with his reaction, Chan turned around and gestured to the three doors behind the staircase that Seungmin had noticed while coming down.

“This is the weapons room, which only I have the key to, the safe, and one of the bathrooms.” Again, Seungmin just nodded. Honestly he wasn’t sure how else he was supposed to react, but thankfully Chan didn’t seem to mind. He just turned around and walked back up the stairs with Seungmin trailing behind him. 

“Here is the main room with the TV and couches and things, this door leads to the hallway where the bedrooms I set up for everyone are, and this is our main planning space here.” Chan opened the door on the left, revealing a large table with chairs all around it facing a whiteboard and a cork board that were both currently empty. He didn’t even wait for a response before shutting the door again and heading up to the top of the staircase. 

“And finally, here’s the kitchen, dining room, and a couple random rooms that we can turn into anything we need.” Seungmin nodded and walked over to one of the rooms that had the door open, peeking inside. It had one, large window with a fire escape outside of it and bare white walls; nothing special or unique. 

Seungmin loved it. 

“You said these rooms don’t have a use yet?” Chan smiled and nodded, watching Seungmin take in the blank walls around him.

“You want this one?”

“Yes please.” 

“Alright then, we can make this one your workroom.” Chan crossed over to the window and gazed out at the dilapidated building next to them. It wasn’t much of a view. “I figured you might want one of these rooms up here, they have the best internet.” 

Seungmin unslung his bag and set it in the corner, solidifying his claim on the small room, and studied the peeling paint and frayed carpet closely. Chan watched curiously until Seungmin leveled him with a glare that could have rivaled Lee Know’s, making him quickly look away. 

“Arghh aHh AhH, heLp!” A voice squeaked from downstairs. Chan quickly ran to the balcony of the loft with Seungmin close behind him and found Lee Know standing calmly in the middle of the room holding Han by his ear. Cool as a cucumber, he looked up at Chan and Seungmin. 

“Do you have an air fryer?” 

Chan raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve got an oven, does that work?” He called down. Lee Know looked down at Han and thought about it for a second before shaking his head. 

“Well then how about I just show you both your rooms and we can figure out the air fryer later?” After a second, Lee Know nodded and let go of Han, who immediately jumped away and rubbed his ear. Seungmin grinned and started down the stairs, headed for the bedroom hallway, but Han ran past him and wrenched open the door. 

“Dibs!” And he disappeared down the hall. Seungmin ran after him, determined to get the best room, and Chan went to stand next to Lee Know, watching the two wrestle in the hallway. After a few seconds, Lee Know huffed, uncrossed his arms, and headed off on his own search for a room. As he left, he threw a quiet comment over his shoulder that Bang Chan had to strain to hear. 

“We’re going to need that air fryer.” 

Chapter Text

Several loud clanging noises sounded from the main floor of the warehouse, catching Minho’s attention from where he’d been unsuccessfully trying to find food in Chan’s barren kitchen. The wind howled outside, making the noise hard to distinguish when everything was creaking anyway, but that sound had been new. Suddenly on guard, Minho carefully moved to the middle of the loft area, freezing when the noises started sounding closer and closer. 

The second he’d moved into this place he’d memorized escape routes from every room, not trusting that their ‘leader’ would care enough to get them all out if something went wrong. From the kitchen, the closest way out was through Seungmin’s window, so Minho carefully edged towards the closed door, ready to immediately vault out the window if need be. 

The noise sounded again, this time coming from the stairs, and Minho held his breath. 

“Oh hey Lee Know! Have you seen what it looks like outside yet!?” Han’s head appeared over the top of the staircase and Minho relaxed, a scowl replacing his tense frame. Ignoring the lack of response, Han finished climbing the stairs and ran to the wall of windows behind the dining room table, immediately plastering his face to the glass. 

Minho rolled his eyes and returned to his fruitless search; he knew what he was looking at. Anyone with ears would. It wasn’t like the wind had been particularly quiet. 

But Han seemed enamored with watching the storm outside and Minho couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it looked like. Obviously he’d seen windstorms before and been aware of the situation outside, but he hadn’t actually taken the time to go see what the street actually looked like. 

“This is crazy.” Han whispered, his eyes still glued to the window. Alright, that’s it. Trying to look uninterested, Minho closed the cabinet he’d been rummaging through and slowly walked over to where Han was standing, his eyebrows raising when he finally saw the damage of what he’d been listening to for the last hour. 

Outside the warehouse was absolute chaos. The trash that had been sort of contained in piles tucked away in corners was now scattered all over the streets. The chain link fences surrounding most of the buildings were buffeting in the wind, shaking as if they were about to come out of the ground, and even some pieces of the warehouses’ metal roofs were flapping around. It wasn’t raining, but honestly Minho thought he might have preferred the rain over whatever this was. 

“That looks even worse than it sounds.” Minho said, breaking his uninterested facade to reach over and wipe some of the condensation off the window so he could see better. Han didn’t comment, just nodded vigorously in agreement, still not taking his eyes off the street. 

“It’s supposed to end in the next hour or so.” A new voice commented, making Han finally look up and Minho turn around to see Seungmin walking out of his new workroom, sipping on his coffee. With a glance out the window, he sighed and walked into the kitchen, placing his now empty mug into the sink. “I mean, if the meteorologists are to be trusted. I really don’t think they are.” 

Minho snorted quietly and Han smirked, both of them walking back into the kitchen to join Seungmin. Han collapsed into a chair and swung his feet up onto the table, making Seungmin grimace, but Minho didn’t comment. Instead, he just shoved Han’s chair away from the table with his foot to make room enough to lean over him and grab an apple from the bowl sitting in the middle of the table. He’d decided it was literally the only food in this entire building, and even Han’s annoyed grunt at being moved wasn’t going to keep it from him.

“Have you guys seen Chan?” Seungmin asked, suppressing his grin at the death glare Han was giving Minho’s back. He’d definitely already figured out he wasn’t going to be able to openly glare at him without dying. 

“Nope, I saw him this morning but then he disappeared downstairs.” Minho answered, biting into his apple. Han piped up instead, finally swinging his feet down from the table again. 

“Oh yeah, he left right before I came upstairs.” Seungmin raised his eyebrow and glanced at Minho, who wore a similar expression of disbelief on his face. 

“Left? Like went outside?”

“Yup.” Minho whistled, finally looking back at Han.

“I would not want to be outside in this.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“We couldn’t have taken a bus or something!?” Jeongin yelled, his head down as he fought to follow Changbin through the gusting wind. There was no reply, his voice not carrying far enough for the other man to even hear the question, but it didn’t matter. They’d had this conversation before they’d left Changbin’s apartment, so Jeongin knew what his answer would be. 

One reason was obvious; no buses was running in this storm. No one was crazy enough to be outside in it, so there was no reason for the bus system to be operating. But the other reason was the one that Jeongin had tried to fight. 

Changbin thought that gang members were likely going to be posted at every convenient entrance and exit to the district, and unfortunately, that included subway stations. Which were, of course, the only things still running in this storm, but Changbin had put his foot down, saying they were too risky. Jeongin had snorted at that, replying that he definitely wasn’t important enough to prompt that kind of a search from a gang that definitely had other jobs to run. But Changbin hadn’t been deterred, he’d just looked him in the eye and said something that had made Jeongin’s blood run cold. 

“You know something that they don’t want getting out. That alone makes you important enough to kill.”

In the end, Changbin had won. 

Now, Jeongin turned his attention back to the churning waters of the Muhan River beside them, cursing whatever impulse had made him stay next to that door when everything in him was telling him to keep on walking. It hadn’t even been worth it, he hadn’t gotten any of the information he’d been after. It was just a whole lot of talk about a person whose name he didn’t even recognize; definitely not anything worth dying over. 

But the wind howling by his ear dragged him out of his thoughts and he adjusted his backpack angrily. What was done was done, there was no point in him dwelling on it. 

Thankfully, the fact that they were already walking along the bank of the river was a good sign. Now that they had crossed out of their district and found the river, it was only a five minute walk to the bridge where they were supposed to meet Bang Chan. 

He must be crazy not to move this meeting inside. An aggressive gust of wind almost swept Jeongin off his feet and he grunted, holding onto his bag for dear life. In front of him, Changbin adjusted the hockey bag he was carrying on his back and kept moving, headed for the bridge that had finally come into view. 

Honestly, this storm had actually been a stroke of much for the two of them. No one else was crazy enough o be outside, so it was possible for them to slip out of the district unnoticed. When the weather had first started, Jeongin had protested, wanting to call Bang Chan and postpone the meeting, but Changbin had pointed out this was the safest time for them to travel. Looking back now, Jeongin had to begrudgingly agree with him; it was probably the only reason they had made it out alive. 

“Almost there, almost there.” Jeongin muttered to himself, focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other. The bridge was covered, so while it wouldn’t completely block out the wind, it would certainly help shield the brunt of it. They just had to get there first. 

Finally, after five minutes that felt like five hours, the two of them stepped onto the bridge, sighing in relief when the wind died down enough for them to walk normally. 

“Well at least it isn’t raining.” Changbin said, shrugging his bags into a better position on his back. Jeongin snorted.

“At least we’re finally here.” He corrected. Changbin nodded in agreement, he hadn’t like walking through the wind any more than Jeongin had. But as they started walking towards the middle of the bridge, a different problem quickly became apparent. 

“Um, what time is it?” Jeongin asked, nudging Changbin with his foot until he pulled out his phone with an aggravated grunt. 

“2:06.” As he slid the device back into his pocket, Changbin caught onto what Jeongin was actually asking and looked around, confused. Save for them, the bridge was empty. 

“The meeting was supposed to be at two, right?” Changbin nodded, still looking around as if Bang Chan was just going to appear out of nowhere. This was not good. If Bang Chan didn’t show up… he had to show up. Changbin didn’t know what they would do if he didn’t. They’d left their district behind them, there was no way they were going to try to sneak back in just to get caught by the very gang they’d just evaded. 

Next to him, Jeongin didn’t look anywhere as distressed as Changbin felt. He just pulled out his phone and leaned against the side of the bridge, looking like the picture of calm. Feeling Changbin’s eyes on him, he looked up and shrugged. 

“He’s probably just late because of the storm. Or he likes to make an entrance, I don’t know.” He went back to scrolling on his phone. “Regardless, it’s not like we can make him show up, we just have to wait until he does.” 

I hate when he makes sense. Grunting, Changbin carefully slung his hockey bag off his shoulders and set it down, ignoring Jeongin’s questioning glance at the sound of metal that sounded as it hit the ground.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant to show the kid what was in the bag. He’d been a gang member for crying out loud, he must have guessed what Changbin did for a living. But there was something about the way he’d looked at the handgun Changbin had taken the day he’d saved him that made him wonder. 

So, for now, the hockey bag remained closed and secure. 

Bored, Changbin settled for going through his email and turning down a few coded offers he’d received. To each one, he just responded with a ‘out of town, month long absence’, knowing the news would spread to all of his regular contacts. Within ten minutes he was completely caught up and finished, but thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer. 

“Ah, Changbin, I.N., sorry for the wait.” A familiar voice spoke from the other end of the bridge and Changbin pushed himself to his feet, exchanging a glance with Jeongin as he put his phone away. There was something in his eyes that Changbin hadn’t seen before, and in an instant he finally understood how the innocent teenager he’d gotten to know could have been involved in a gang. Even the way he was standing screamed experience. 

Changbin felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he realized Jeongin could take care of himself and he focused on the man that was standing across from him. 

Bang Chan didn’t look much like he’d expected. First of all, he wasn’t that much taller than him and he had almost white, curly hair; definitely not what Changbin had pictured based on his voice. But he radiated confidence. He wasn’t tense and an apologetic smile colored his features, making him look like the picture of sincere. 

Changbin didn’t trust it.

The three of them stood in silence as each of them appraised the other, but Changbin quickly grew tired of the tense atmosphere. He’d never had the most patience. 

“Alright, let’s cut to the chase. What is the purpose of this meeting?” Bang Chan turned to him, narrowing his eyes just a bit before smiling easily once again. It was odd. He was clearly using a mask like so many in their line of work, but instead of hiding behind an emotionless front, he was hiding behind a sort of faux smile. It was almost like he knew how much more off-putting a smile in the wrong context could make someone. Changbin filed that away. He could speculate later, when he hadn’t just snapped at the person he was trying to puzzle out. 

“I wanted to meet you first.” Bang Chan shrugged, sliding his hands into his jacket pockets. “I needed to make sure.”

Ok, I don’t like that. Changbin opened his mouth to ask, but surprisingly, Jeongin beat him to it. 

“Make sure?” Chan hummed in agreement, turning his attention from Changbin to Jeongin and looking a little bit closer at the young man.

“I have a question for you.” Jeongin raised an eyebrow at the non-answer and Changbin bristled. He didn’t like the way Bang Chan was singling Jeongin out and completely ignoring him. But next to him, Jeongin just crossed his arms nodded, ready for the question.

“Why are you here?” For the first time in all their communications, Bang Chan’s tone turned hostile and the smile became serious, making Changbin tense again. He really didn’t know what Jeongin was going to say, and one look at Bang Chan’s face told him he was expecting a good answer. 

“I’m running.” The blatant honesty in that answer seemed to take both Bang Chan by surprise. “I’m here because I have useful skills to offer… and nowhere else to go.” 

“Why?” I.N. shrugged nonchalantly, his expression open even as there was something unidentifiable behind his eyes. 

“You don’t need to know my life story to be able to use me.” Chan nodded slowly as Changbin looked back and forth between the two of them, confused as to when Jeongin had turned into the person he was watching now. 

“You’re the wildcard here I.N.. I recruited the others, but you recruited yourself, so you need to give me something to work with here.” Bang Chan crossed his arms and I.N. looked at the ground, twisting his lips in thought. After a second, he met Chan’s gaze once again and responded quietly and truthfully.  

“I don’t like unsolved puzzles, especially when someone is hiding half the pieces.” 

His words hung heavy in the air. There was more to them than any listener would realize, the implications in them issuing a kind of challenge to the man standing across from them. Changbin blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected such a loaded answer, but for some reason he didn’t even fully understand, he trusted Jeongin. 

But clearly, there was more to his story than what Changbin had already pieced together. 

Bang Chan stood motionless, clearly understanding the unsaid words perfectly. For his part, I.N. didn’t look apologetic at all; Chan had asked for something and he’d given it to him. What he did with it was up to him. After a nerve wracking minute, something in Bang Chan’s face cleared and he held out his hand. I.N. smiled and shook it firmly, making Changbin finally relax. 

“Don’t make me regret this.” Bang Chan smiled, his bared teeth looking a little more threatening than they had before. I.N. met his gaze evenly. 

“I won’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The door to the warehouse slammed open and the wind rushed in, less intense than it had been but still strong enough to make the papers sitting on the coffee table fly into the air. Seungmin jumped up from the couch at the loud noise, quickly catching the piece of paper he’d been writing on and turning to greet the three people who walked in.

“Seungmin, this is Changbin and I.N.” Chan said, hanging his coat up on the hooks by the door. The two men behind Chan bowed and Seungmin returned the gesture hastily, filing their names away. 

“Nice to meet you.” He’d look them up later; it was always more reliable than asking questions. Especially because at the moment, he had more pressing business than small talk. Turning to Chan, he beckoned him forward and leaned close, speaking quietly enough that the other two would have to strain to be able to hear. 

“Did you recruit someone named Hyunjin?” Chan’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and he nodded slowly. Uh oh. Seungmin bit his lip and looked away. He’d been afraid of that. 

“Why?” Chan asked suspiciously. Seungmin didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Lee Know might be holding him hostage in the basement right now.”

“WHAT!?” As soon as the words left Seungmin’s mouth, Chan flew to the stairs and descended the steps two at a time, leaving Changbin and I.N. standing awkwardly in the doorway. A few seconds later, an angry shriek came from the basement and Seungmin just shrugged, turning to the two newcomers. He’d warned Minho; he certainly wasn’t going to go save him from a murderous Chan.  

“Sorry about that.” The younger of the two looked shocked, but the other stranger, Changbin, took the chaos in stride, toeing his shoes off and placing them in the boot tray by the door like nothing unusual was going on. 

 I wonder if he’s dealt with crazy people like this before. Seungmin smirked to himself. I should ask him for tips on how to deal with Han. 

“Seungmin, do you know… oh hello, who are you!?” Speak of the devil… outwardly, Seungmin rolled his eyes at the bright voice, but privately he was thanking whatever power had sent the talkative young man to his rescue. If there was anything Seungmin had learned about Han in the last 24 hours, it was that he had no problem making conversation with complete strangers. 

The two newcomers watched warily as Han walked towards the trio, holding out his hand in welcome. After a beat, Changbin stepped forward and took it, earning a curious look from Seungmin as he finally noticed the hockey bag on his back. 

“I’m Changbin, and this is I.N.”

“Nice to meet you! Has Seungmin shown you around yet? Sorry about all the yelling, I think Chan-hyung is currently occupied.” Han snickered to himself. “I’m sure you’ll meet Lee Know soon if he isn’t dead. Oh and also Hyunjin, who seems super nice and I hope hasn’t died of terror yet. That would be really sad.” He frowned and Seungmin had to hold back a laugh at his ridiculous antics. 

Changbin was looking more and more confused the more Han spoke, but instead of saving him, Seungmin just grabbed I.N. and gently pulled him away from the pair. It was so nice to have someone else take the brunt of Han’s conversations, he wasn’t going to deprive himself of that. Changbin gazed after them with a betrayed expression as I.N. followed Seungmin and left him alone with Han, who had already moved on to asking him a billion questions he didn’t know how to answer. 

“Where are we going?” 

“To the bedrooms and away from Han, who somehow forgot to include an introduction in all the noise he just made.” I.N. nodded and followed Seungmin closely, looking concerned as they passed the stairs and the yelling that was going on below them became clear enough to understand.

“What the hell were you thinking!? You KNEW you weren’t the only people moving in!” 

“Sue me for trying to be safe.”

“You TIED the kid to a CHAIR!”

“He’s fine.”

“He’s TERRIFIED!”

“You screaming probably isn’t helping with that.” 

Seungmin smirked as the yelling immediately stopped, imagining the self-satisfied smirk Minho definitely had on his face. Next to him, I.N.’s eyes had gotten extremely wide, probably wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. Seungmin could relate. He’d been here for literally a day and it was already becoming quite the experience. 

“Are they always like that?” 

“Han? Yeah so far, I haven’t seen another side to him yet. I don’t actually know much about Chan, so your guess is as good as mine, but Lee Know? Absolutely. He’s… something.” 

I.N. nodded slowly, taking that information in as Seungmin opened a door and led him down a long corridor with more closed doors. 

“These are the bedrooms. Mine is this one,” Seungmin gestured to the first door on the left, “The one beside it is Lee Know’s, that one at the end is Han’s, and this one,” He kicked the door to their right with his foot, “Is Chan’s. But I’m pretty sure the others are free game if you want to pick before Changbin.” I.N. nodded slowly and opened the door next to Chan’s, wondering what he would find. 

It looked pretty standard, holding just a twin sized bed, a nightstand with a lamp and a clock on it, an empty bookshelf, and a desk with a comfy looking chair. But as far as Jeongin was concerned, it was heavenly. Grinning, he swung his bag down onto his new bed and went to open one of the desk drawers, but a sudden scream made him stop short. Exchanging quick glance with Seungmin, both of them turned and sprinted back towards the main room. 

As they passed the stairs, Lee Know and Chan appeared right in front of the pair and Seungmin swerved to avoid crashing into them. I.N. just stopped, wheeling his arms back and barely managing to avoid slamming into either of them. As he turned to avoid the human blockade, he noticed a stranger, who he assumed was probably Hyunjin based on the fact that he looked completely shell shocked, had also emerged from the basement.

I.N. couldn’t blame him. He’d been here for five minutes and he was almost ready to go turn himself over to his old gang rather than deal with much more of this chaos. And he hadn’t even met this Lee Know person yet.

But right now, the reason behind Han’s scream was more interesting than studying Hyunjin, so I.N. quickly followed Seungmin, Chan, and who he guessed was Lee Know to where the other two were waiting. 

The front door was wide open and Changbin and Han were standing, frozen, in front of the opening. Seungmin, Lee Know, I.N., and Chan nudged the other two to the side, each freezing themselves when they finally saw what they had been looking at. 

A boy was standing outside the door. Actually, standing might have been the wrong word, he was swaying at best, and he looked like he was about two seconds away from collapsing. His long blonde hair was matted with blood and he’d clearly been punched in the face judging by the way his lip was split. But more concerning than that was the fact that he was holding his side tightly and there was crimson blood dripping from his fingers.  

Seungmin looked at Chan, wondering how their new leader was going to handle this. It didn’t seem like anyone knew who this boy was and he’d just shown up on the doorstep of a group of criminals, it would make logical sense to turn him away. 

But even thinking that made him feel sick. 

He couldn’t imagine shutting the door on an injured person, but it wasn’t his decision. Seungmin looked at Chan hopefully, not noticing the way that everyone else had also subconsciously turned to him, waiting for him to do something. 

To his credit, Chan didn’t even hesitate. 

“Everybody, back up.” His quiet tone allowed no questions and everybody obeyed immediately, even Lee Know. The doorway clear, Chan carefully approached the boy, who looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. 

“Please, help.” The quiet words tugged at Chan’s heartstrings and he cursed internally. This was probably one of the stupidest thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t just leave this kid to fend for himself. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the boy’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed into Chan’s arms. 

Han gasped loudly and ran to help, taking some of the stranger’s weight as Chan carried him into the warehouse. Everyone followed silently as they carefully laid him on the couch and Chan started giving directions as if they were an actual team, not a group of strangers who barely even knew each other.

“Han, first aid kit—it’s in the kitchen cupboard. Lee Know, grab the rags are under the sink. Changbin, come here and put pressure on this and I.N., follow Lee Know and fill the bucket under the sink with warm water. Seungmin,” Chan looked up and locked eyes with the hacker, his expression deadly serious. “Find out who he is. I want to know whose life I’m trying to save and why he’s here.” Seungmin nodded and took one last look at the injured stranger before running up the stairs to get his computer.

As everyone scattered, Hyunjin crept forward from where he’d been watching, trying to see what was going on. When he finally got close enough to see the stranger’s face, he let out a strangled gasp, drawing Chan’s attention to him. 

“Felix?”

Chapter Text

“Hey Felix, wait up!” 

The familiar words of his native language registered slowly, catching Felix by surprise as soon as he realized what was being said. Quickly, he spun around, trying to catch a glimpse of the person who’d shouted. It could only be a couple different people, there were very few who knew both his preferred name and native language. But halfway up the steps of his bus wasn’t the best place to figure out who it was, so he mumbled a quiet apology and shoved his way back down to the crowded sidewalk, catching a few angry elbows from his classmates as he went. 

As soon as he stepped back into the crowd, Felix immediately regretted not looking closer while he could actually see above everyone’s heads. 

Seriously, why is everyone so tall?  

After a couple seconds of fruitless searching, Felix sighed and scooted into the corner by the bus door so he could go up onto his tiptoes to see without being pushed over. Finally able to see, he scanned the group of students pushing to board their buses and finally caught sight of the culprit, his trademark lopsided grin bouncing towards him. Felix smiled involuntarily and stuck his hand in the air, waving it wildly so the taller boy could locate him.

“Doyun! Over here!” After a couple seconds, the other foreigner pushed his way through the crowd and tackled Felix in a bear hug, laughing at the strangled noise he made. 

“I thought you were going to leave me!” Felix snorted and whacked him on the back until he let go, ignoring how hearing the language of his thoughts spoken back to him by someone else sent a physical feeling of relief through his whole body.

“You’re ridiculous.” Doyun feigned shock and Felix rolled his eyes at the dramatic act. As much as he liked to pretend Doyun annoyed him, the presence of another foreigner at their high school had been a lifesaver for both of them. Felix hadn’t even been fluent when he’d first shown up, but Doyun had been struggling with the same problems for three years already and immediately attached himself to Felix’s side. He was the only one that actually called him Felix instead of Yongbok without making a big deal of it, and it was honestly the only thing that had kept Felix sane. 

“Were you going home? I thought we were going to hang out at my house today.” Doyun asked, a genuine frown taking over his face. Felix froze. 

Oh god, was that today? He let out a nervous laugh and adjusted his backpack, too conscious of the way Doyun’s eyes narrowed at him. 

“Oh yeah! Uh…” He looked around at the throng of students surrounding them, wishing he could just disappear. “What time were we going to do that again?” The words came out in a rush and Doyun raised an eyebrow. 

“Right after school?” The crowd around them was getting considerably thinner and the noise was dying down, telling Felix that if he was going to get on his bus, he was going to have to do it soon. He looked up at Doyun guiltily and scuffed his feet, not wanting to hurt the boy’s feelings. But his tells were too obvious. Even before he opened his mouth, Doyun beat him to it with a sad smile. 

“It’s okay Felix. Just… go home.” He let out a heavy sigh and stepped away, making Felix’s heart leap into his throat. But he didn’t look up, dead set on winning his staring contest with the concrete. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Felix finally looked up just as Doyun turned away and started walking towards where Felix knew his car was parked. He almost ran after him, his brain yelling at him for hurting his friends feelings, but he knew he couldn’t. Doyun knew he couldn’t. 

So, he got on his bus. 

“Stay safe.”

And if as the doors were swishing closed, he heard Doyun’s soft farewell, Felix just pretended he didn’t. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The bus creaked and groaned around him as Felix stared out the window, the potholes in the road making it so that he wouldn’t get thrown to the floor but definitely couldn’t lean his forehead against the glass. He was going to get a concussion if he did. So he kept a safe distance, gazing unseeingly at the familiar sights along his route. The bus was almost to his stop, the street sign that marked it just coming into view as they turned the corner, and the thought made Felix sick to his stomach. 

It was Friday, everyone was celebrating the fact that they had a long weekend and could relax and hang out with friends. But Felix… was absolutely dreading it. A long weekend to him was more like torture than a vacation; really just an excuse for his parents to keep him cooped up inside memorizing more information he was never going to use. Felix sighed and fiddled with the zipper on his backpack. 

If only Doyun realized just how much he’d wanted to say yes. 

But, utterly oblivious to his feelings, the bus squealed to a stop and opened its doors, the telltale hiss snapping Felix out of his daze. Quickly, before the driver assumed no one was going to get off, he grabbed his backpack and stood, stepping slowly down the aisle. The bus driver gave him a halfhearted smile and Felix returned it as he usually did, his bright grin making the driver chuckle. But too soon, the moment was gone and he was on the curb, the school bus driving away and leaving him behind. 

Felix turned to walk away, suddenly grateful his stop was so far from his actual house. At least that gave him some more time to think about his more pressing problem before entering the suffocating pressure that his ‘home’ always brought. 

He’d been running into an issue. 

The number that Hyunjin had unwittingly given him wasn’t giving him any information at all. 

Felix wasn’t a computer person at all, so even though he knew there were systems that would bring up information about the phone the number was registered to, he had absolutely no idea how to go about doing that. So that left him with a name. A name that didn’t seem to be connected to anything. 

It had been two, agonizing days since he’d gotten the number and the unexpected stall in information was driving Felix crazy. This was supposed to be his chance. A change. But he was still walking down his driveway like he always did, no closer to the adventure he craved. 

And it was frustrating him to no end. 

As he neared the front door, Felix quieted his steps and took a deep breath, readying himself to sneak to his room as quietly as he could. 

Three… two… one… Felix pulled the door open and slid down the hallway, holding his breath as he passed his father’s office. He could hear his mother moving around in the kitchen, probably making dinner, and he ignored the pang of nostalgia that hit him. Everything sounded like it used to, back before they’d found out he was different, before their expectations had changed. Back when he’d just been their little Bokkie, not Yongbok. 

Felix shook himself out of his trance and crept up the stairs, mentally slapping himself. It wasn’t how it used to be, that was the whole point, and he was going to get himself in trouble if he didn’t remember that. 

Almost there… Felix shut his bedroom door quietly behind him and fell onto his bed, tension slowly seeping out of his small frame. Well, that was one win. He laid there for a couple minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet that he knew all too well was temporary. 

Get up Felix, you need to figure this out. Felix thought. Groaning, he wiggled out of his backpack and set in on the ground, pulling his laptop out and placing it gently on his desk. Next, he grabbed his case file and flipped it open to the last page, laying it next to his computer as he sat down.

The name and number stared up at him, and Felix pursed his lips in annoyance. He knew he didn’t actually know anything, did the mostly empty page have to taunt him like that? 

“Bang Chan, Bang Chan, Bang Chan… who are you?” Felix muttered, typing the name into his search bar for the fiftieth time. Once again, absolutely nothing popped up. There were little articles about a few different middle school age kids and a random blog post by what looked to be an older man who was in no way connected to the name. Honestly, Felix didn’t understand Google sometimes. 

Bang Chan. There was something about that name that he felt like he should know, but it just wasn’t coming to him. It was an unusual name for sure, but it didn’t sound foreign… wait. 

Foreign? 

Felix’s head shot up from where he’d been resting it on the desk and glared at his computer screen. Foreign… what about it sounded foreign? Nothing, that was the point. 

What had he been getting at? 

“Nonononono where was I going with that!?” Felix yelped, trying to rewind his brain back to the moment of his revelation. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously; why couldn’t he remember what he’d been getting at? It had felt important! 

“Yongbok!?” His mother’s voice shocked him out of his focused state, making him completely lose his train of thought. 

“Yes Eomma?” He called, hoping his parents hadn’t planned a random pop quiz or assignment he would have to do right then. Fortunately, the universe seemed to take pity on him just this once.

“Ah I thought I heard you up there jagiya. I made brownies, would you like one?” Felix’s heart jumped at the offer and his stomach grumbled involuntarily, making him smile. 

“Yes please, I’ll be down in a second!” 

“Hurry, they’re warm now!” Felix grinned and went to close his laptop. But something about what he’d just heard made him stop. 

Foreign. 

Bang Chan wasn’t a foreign name. 

But neither was Yongbok. 

Felix’s eyes widened and he immediately grabbed his pen, jotting that note down before he could forget it again. If Bang Chan was a foreigner like him, that meant he had two names: Bang Chan and something else. 

Something else that Felix might be able to find some information about. 

Felix forgot all about the brownies waiting for him and pulled up another search bar on his computer, trying to figure out what the foreign equivalent to Bang Chan would be. 

Let’s see, the name would be flipped, so Chan Bang. The surname won’t change, but Chan is wrong… what’s the equivalent of Chan? Felix wracked his brain, trying to think. Sometimes the names didn’t even relate to each other at all, Felix and Yongbok being a perfect example. But usually they started with the same letter… right? 

“Chan, Chan… not Charles… Chris? Christopher?” It was worth a shot. Felix typed Christopher Bang into the search bar, not expecting anything to come up. So when the results came through his eyebrows shot up, disappearing behind his fringe.

Bang Chan was a ghost, but Christopher Bang was very real. There was one long article completely in his native language from almost four years ago titled the ‘Tragedy of the Bang Family’ and Felix clicked on it, skimming through for relevant information. It looked like both parents had died in a mysterious accident, leaving Chris and his younger sister as the sole heirs to their large estate. 

But while that was all super interesting, it didn’t tell Felix anything that he really wanted to know about Bang Chan. He was looking for something more than just a history. So, he dug a little deeper, looking for property attached to the name. That would at least give him somewhere Bang Chan could potentially be hiding out; a place for him to start looking. 

The first piece of that was actually pretty easy, the article had a pretty detailed summary of what the Bang siblings had inherited from their parents, including all of the property they had owned. Felix started sifting through it, but after a while with no obvious answer he sat back with a huff. 

Think, Felix. His eyes popped open and he sat back up, pulling up yet another empty search bar. If my family was this well known, I certainly wouldn’t use any of their old buildings to start running something shady. 

Finally, after a bit more digging, he found a different list of assets to Christopher Bang’s name that was a little over two years old. It had a few addresses that were different from the original inheritance list, so he diligently jotted them down in his notebook, a satisfied smile on his face when he realized he was finally getting somewhere. 

Next, he pulled up a map and plugged each of the new addresses in, slowly crossing off the ones that were most likely not being used for shady business. But the third one caught Felix’s attention. He looked at his screen closely, double-checking the address was correct. It was, especially after the fourth time checking it, but it still didn’t make any sense. 

Why would anyone purposefully buy a warehouse in the Pits? 

Felix shuddered. That was certainly an area associated with the type of business he was looking into, but a part of him hoped that was just a coincidence. Mostly because he really didn’t want to investigate the Pits. 

The smell of brownies drifted into his room and Felix remembered his mom’s offer with a jolt. Sitting up, Felix circled the third address with a shaky line and slammed his notebook shut before slowly leaving the safe haven that was his bedroom. 

“Eomma?” A rustling came from the kitchen and Felix slowly walked down the stairs, hoping beyond all hope that his father was still barricaded in his office. 

“In here!” Felix followed her cheery voice into the dining room, breathing in the yummy chocolate aroma that was filling the air. Thankfully, his father was no where to be seen and Felix ignored the way he flinched when his mother walked into the room. 

Internally, he berated himself. This was his mother, she loved him, she could just be a little… strict. That was no reason to be afraid of her. 

“Here jagiya, take a brownie.” His mother held up the plate of the chocolate treats and Felix grinned, choosing the largest side piece he could find just like he always did. Satisfied, his mother placed the tray on the table and Felix went to retreat back to his room, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“Yongbok-ah, I didn’t know you were home.” The deep voice of his father washed over Felix and he barely held back a shudder. Slowly, he turned around and smiled, mostly for his mother’s sake. 

“I’m sorry, I arrived only ten minutes ago.” The formal way of speaking felt strange on Felix’s tongue, but it’s what his father required so he’d learned to adjust. 

“That’s no excuse.” Felix just bowed slightly in apology, the brownie he’d grabbed sitting untouched on the table. He wanted nothing more than to pick it up and take a huge bite, but if anything was going to set his father off, that would be it. 

The conversation seemed to be over, so Felix bowed again and picked up his brownie, trying not to feel like he was retreating as he inched towards the door. But it looked like the universe was done being nice.

“Yongbok, care to explain why your library checkout history looks the way it does?” His father’s voice was quiet, but it froze Felix’s blood in his veins. He hadn’t thought… there was no way he could’ve checked that. Felix had made sure; the librarian had told him that data was private. 

But that didn’t explain how his father would know to ask. Felix looked up, the confused expression on his face only serving to make the man more upset. 

“Looks the way it does?” He echoed lamely, regretting the words the instant they left his mouth. The room seemed to freeze as his father’s displeased expression shifted to fury and his mother silently moved to close the window blinds. 

“I will give you one more chance.” The words came out through ground teeth and Felix flinched, his gaze flickering to his mother. His eomma. The woman who had made him brownies not two minutes ago and knew full well what was coming. She didn’t meet his gaze. 

Felix’s blood ran cold.

“Why is there not a single. educational. book. in your library CHECKOUT HISTORY?” Felix couldn’t bring himself to look his father in the face, knowing all too well the furious flush and bloodshot eyes he’d find there. He was trapped. And there didn’t seem to be a way out of it this time. 

His father took a step towards him and Felix backed up on instinct, only serving to make the vein on his father’s forehead pop out even more. 

“Answer me.” The words were quiet, but they were brimming with hate, and Felix’s heart broke a little more. Even though the yelling wasn’t out of the ordinary, every time it happened it hurt him more. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to try to defend himself, but nothing came out. 

A stinging pain hit him across the face, snapping his head to the side, and Felix lifted a hand to his face, no longer surprised by the familiar sensation. His father’s hand slowly lowered back down to his side and Felix prodded his lip carefully, tasting blood from where one of the rings had split it.  

With a resigned sort of sadness, Felix finally looked up and met his father’s murderous gaze. 

“I said to answer me.” 

Numbly, Felix nodded, his eyes once again moving to his mother. She was exactly where she had been, still standing by the door in silent support. 

But who she was supporting, Felix wasn’t sure anymore.

He hadn’t realized he’d zoned out, his hand still on his cheek, until the breath was knocked out of him and he was falling to the floor, clutching his stomach. His head connected with the ground with a resounding crack and stars danced in front of his eyes. Felix blinked slowly, registering the looming figure of his father towering over him, his hands shaking in anger. 

“ANSWER ME!” Felix shrank into himself, but as he curled in around his already bruised stomach, something inside him snapped. He hadn’t been completely broken yet. And he wanted his father to know that. 

“Because it’s useless.” Came his quiet reply. His mother made a shocked noise, the first sign that she was actually still in the room, and he watched as his father stepped closer, his heavy boots shaking the floor below Felix. 

“What?” Anyone else might have thought the question sounded innocent, honestly confused. All Felix heard was a looming, menacing threat to take back his words. But he was done being manipulated by his parents. 

‘We just want the best for you!’ Bullshit. If that was really true I wouldn’t be bleeding on the floor right now. 

“It’s completely useless.” Felix knew he was probably signing his death warrant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “All this information you make me memorize, the knowledge you quiz me on, it’s all useless.” He pushed himself up off the ground and faced his father, his limbs trembling in fear and exhilaration. 

“You think you’re helping me, you’re not! I have a gift, I should be using it for something that actually matters. Not reciting the history of the Aztecs and explaining the concept of multivariable calculus.” If his father’s face got any more red, Felix was pretty sure he’d see steam start coming out of his ears, but he wasn’t finished. 

“So yes, I check out books that actually interest me, that teach me things that I could actually use to help the world, not more useless and boring textbo—“ A burning pain erupted in his ribs and Felix gasped, the fiery pain immediately shooting through his torso. 

That wasn’t another punch.  

Felix’s heart squeezed and he instinctively tried to cling to his dad’s arm, but the man shook him off with an angry sneer. Ignoring the whimper Felix accidentally let slip, he stepped away, his hand letting go of… was that a handle? 

Felix lost his balance and stumbled back, not even registering his mother’s scandalized gasp as he looked down. That… that was knife handle. And it was sticking out of his stomach. 

Holy shit. 

The small knife that his eomma had carried in on the plate of brownies had been innocently sitting on the table throughout the whole argument, but Felix hadn’t noticed it. Clearly, his father had. And… he’d… stabbed him. 

Felix looked up and caught his mother’s distressed gaze, but his focus drifted back to his father against his will. He didn’t look remorseful at all. In fact, he looked almost… smug?

The excruciating pain somehow got worse.  

“Yongb—“ 

Felix ran. 

This was one of those times where he was both glad and hated that he knew as much as he did. All the information he knew about knife wounds came to mind once again as he stumbled up the stairs, trying not to jostle the weapon lodged in his stomach too much. He knew he didn’t have much time before the adrenaline wore off and the injury started to hurt a whole lot more. He knew he shouldn’t be running, that the jostling was likely going to speed up the way the knife was already cutting up his insides, but he needed to. 

He needed to get out. 

So, Felix grabbed his phone, computer, notebook and backpack and basically fell out the door, leaving his shell shocked parents calling after him like they actually cared. 

Like… Felix choked on tears he hadn’t realized were falling… like they weren’t the ones who’d done this to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Everything he’d ever heard told him he was not supposed to take the knife out. 

But, oh god, did Felix want it out. 

Every time he moved he could feel the blade cutting him more, but Felix kept walking anyway. The dark red drops falling from his fingers shone brightly in the light of the streetlamp and the more Felix saw fall, the more he wanted to throw up. He knew he was doing more damage to himself, he was 100% going to bleed out if he kept going, but he needed to get as far away from his house as he could. He didn’t even know where he was anymore, too focused on the pain radiating everywhere to pay attention to where he was walking. 

He was going to die. 

That thought slammed into him at 100 miles per hour and would’ve knocked the breath out of him if he actually had any. If he didn’t figure out what to do, he was going to die. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. 

“Come on, come on Felix think. Where do we go?” He mumbled, hand coming up to feel his split lip once again. His ears were ringing and his brain felt like it was squishing out his ears, but finally an idea hit him and Felix fumbled to pull out his phone. It was getting really dark outside, and Felix knew he was running out of time. 

He opened his GPS and typed in the address to the Pits. 

Was it stupid? Absolutely. Did he have any other option? Yes actually, he could’ve gotten his ass to a hospital as fast as he could and told them the whole story. He was 18, they couldn’t force him to go back to his parents. They could help him. 

But Felix wanted more. He wanted answers. 

So he was going to take his chances on the address. 

The map pulled up the directions and Felix let out a sigh of relief. A ten minute walk. He could do a ten minute walk. 

Eight minutes later and Felix wasn’t so sure anymore. Everything hurt, he was seeing stars, and the knife was shifting inside of him, sending waves of pain through his entire body. It was pretty much completely dark outside now and he was stumbling through the most dangerous part of the city. Yeah, Felix knew how dumb this was. 

A large warehouse loomed in front of him and Felix glanced at his phone, slowly realizing that it must be his destination. And lucky him, it looked completely abandoned. 

Great. 

Well, he was here now, he might as well knock. So, Felix dragged himself up the stairs and pounded weakly on the door, praying to anyone watching over him that someone was home. Almost as soon as he took his hand away, the heavy door swung open and two confused sets of eyes met his, their expressions quickly morphing into concern when they actually took a proper look at him. 

And then one of them screamed. 

Felix cursed and brought a hand up to his ringing ears, revealing the handle of the knife still inside of him. The one who didn’t scream let out a startled gasp and stepped towards him, but suddenly there were more people around him and he was pushed to the side, different faces taking his place. 

The sudden silence caught Felix completely off guard, and he might’ve complained about being studied like an animal in a zoo if he was a little more lucid, but right now he was just glad this place was actually inhabited. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if no one was there. 

“Everybody, back up.” Felix looked up, swaying as he watched holy shit how many of them are there back up, making way for someone to step through. Everything was getting really fuzzy, but as the person came closer, Felix blinked hard and started when his vision cleared. 

He was staring directing at Christopher Bang. 

Through his haze, Felix felt a burst of pride. He’d guessed correctly. 

Opening his mouth to speak, Felix suddenly registered his vision fading and could feel his consciousness slipping away, so he let out a pathetic whimper. 

“Please, help.” 

And the world faded to black. 

Chapter Text

“Felix?”

Chan snapped his head up and narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin, who immediately aborted his attempt to get any closer to the unconscious boy who he apparently knew.

I swear to god if this job falls apart before it even starts because of… Chan glanced down at the kid currently bleeding out on his couch and then back up at Hyunjin, who was wringing his hands anxiously… whatever this is, I’m going to have an aneurysm. 

As if he’d read his mind, Changbin let out a small snort, drawing Hyunjin’s attention away from Chan. Unaware of the eyes on him, Changbin shifted to keep pressure on the kid’s wound, revealing his bloody hands. As soon as he saw them, Hyunjin’s face paled and he quickly backed up, almost tripping over himself to retreat back to where he’d been watching before he’d recognized the poor kid. Chan eyed him suspiciously, still wary of the danger this potential connection could put them in. But a low groan from the blonde boy in front of him snapped his attention back to the injury at hand. 

He could get answers out of Hyunjin later. 

Chan wrapped a hand around the kid’s—Felix’s—wrist, focusing on the fast, thready pulse beneath his fingertips. Distantly, he heard the pounding metallic noise of someone running up the stairs, but he ignored it, instead looking Felix over more carefully. He looked incredibly pale and beat up, so there had to be more injuries than just the obvious one Changbin was dealing with.  

It’s always the ones you can’t see that are the most deadly. That thought flashed through Chan’s mind almost too fast for him to register it, but his entire body froze involuntarily. His vision tunneled, blurring as he watched the face on the couch meld with a different face from a different time…

Oh god, not now. Chan blinked, hard. Focus, Chan, here and now. One breath, two breaths, three breaths, the pulse beneath his fingers, Changbin swearing quietly beside him, the whirring of the lights above them. Breathe. Slowly but surely, the spell weakened and Chan let out of heavy sigh through his teeth, ignoring the curious glance Changbin sent his way. With one more deep breath, he leaned forward and started carefully checking Felix over. 

Compartmentalize and move forward. That’s what he’d always done and that’s what he was going to do now; this kid needed help. 

Split lip, black eye, that’s fine. Heals on its own. He gently lifted Felix’s head up, carefully probing for the source of the blood staining his white blonde hair. After a few seconds, he found the bump and grimaced. Probably a concussion; that’s gonna hurt when he wakes up. 

Next to him, Changbin shifted once again and Chan spared him a glance, taking stock of the main injury. There was blood everywhere. Honestly, he was kinda glad he’d sent the others away for supplies, at least one of them would’ve probably passed out or thrown up at the sight of it. To his credit, Changbin didn’t look in the least bit perturbed, just continued to push down around the small handle sticking out of Felix’s stomach. 

Given what little Chan knew about him, it wasn’t too surprising. Any sort of hitman would have seen his fair share of blood and injuries, given out his fair share too, so it made sense that he wouldn’t be disturbed by the injury. 

Good to know. 

“Where did they go?” Changbin groaned, his black fringe falling into his eyes. The stark, crimson blood was slipping through his fingers too quickly, they needed to deal with it now. Chan looked up, searching what he could see of the upper floor for any sign of movement. At first glance, it looked still and abandoned, but Chan kept watching. They were up there somewhere. As if trying to prove him right, a bright blue head of hair suddenly popped up out of nowhere, appearing next to the fridge for a second before ducking away again. Then Lee Know appeared, stretching up onto his toes to open the cabinet Chan knew the first aid kit was in. How he knew exactly where to grab without looking and why he was getting it instead of Han, Chan didn’t know. But as long as someone got it, he also didn’t particularly care. 

I.N popped up from the ground again, this time carrying an armful of rags, and headed towards the stairs after Lee Know. They paused for a second as someone said something Chan couldn’t quite make out and Han bounced into view, looking as if he was coming from Seungmin’s room. At a breakneck speed that made Chan’s heart jump into his throat, Han slid into the kitchen, grabbed the red bucket off the counter, and ran after the other two. 

“They’re coming.” Chan reported simply, turning his attention back to finishing his examination. He let out a low whistle as he felt Felix’s ribs, catching Hyunjin’s attention from where he’d been leaning against the wall, completely failing to look uninterested. The tall boy took a cautious step towards them, pointedly avoiding looking at Felix’s stomach. 

Chan ignored him. 

“At least two broken ribs. I don’t think any of them are floating around, but could be more fractured. I can’t really tell just by feeling.” He trailed off lamely. 

Changbin just grunted in… agreement? Chan groaned internally. He was really going to have to figure out what all his random noises meant. Seriously, the man had already made at least 20 different ones in the two hours since he’d met him and they all seemed to mean something different. 

“They need to come faster.” Changbin startled Chan out of his thoughts with his angry growl. “He’s going to bleed out if we don’t get this knife out and close the cut soon.”

Chan glanced sideways with narrowed eyes, studying the concentrated look in Changbin’s eyes and the careful and deliberate way he had positioned his hands to stop the bleeding. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, probably a whole lot better than Chan himself did. A spark of anger and guilt shot through him at that thought, but Chan immediately smothered it and turned his gaze back to Felix’s bruised face. 

“Here.” A first aid kid appeared in front of his nose, startling him out of his brooding thoughts. Lee Know raised an eyebrow, waiting. A flush crept up Chan’s neck and he quickly snatched the red bag out of his hand, unzipping it and placing it between him and Changbin. Distantly, he registered I.N and Han appear on the other side of the couch and a wet rag suddenly materialized under Changbin’s hands, staunching the blood flow. 

“We need to take this out now.” Changbin muttered, his nose scrunched in concentration. Lee Know hummed from behind Chan, peering over his shoulder to study the knife still lodged in Felix’s stomach. 

“You’re going to have to clean it and sew it up fast to stop him from bleeding out.” He remarked, sounding almost bored. Chan snapped his head towards him, his mouth open to reprimand him, but Lee Know kept talking, cutting him off. 

“Do you know how to do it?” Lee Know asked Changbin, completely ignoring Chan sitting between them, his mouth still open like a fish trying to breath. “Suture, I mean.” 

Changbin hesitated, but nodded slowly. “It’s been a while so I’m a little rusty, but I think I can at least close it without any problems.” 

Lee Know nodded and crossed his arms, making no move to join Changbin or help him with the situation despite the fact that he obviously could. Chan kind of wanted to punch him and wipe that smug look off his face. 

And he likely would’ve, had he actually been able to move. 

But Chan couldn’t even breathe.  

Everything was happening too quickly. The feeling of insecurity and helplessness flooded his system and shame washed over him as he watched Changbin pull the suturing supplies out of the first aid kit. He shifted his gaze to Lee Know, subconsciously hiding his hands as the tremors in his fingertips started. He didn’t understand how Lee Know could somehow know exactly what to do. Chan didn’t know what he was doing, just like he hadn’t known what he’d been doing all those years ago… he could’ve saved them, he should’ve…

“Bang Chan?” Lee Know’s hand touched his shoulder, shocking Chan out of his own mind for a second, just long enough to meet the younger man’s eyes. He braced himself for the worst, for the pity, the fake sympathy, but Lee Know’s gaze was completely unreadable. There was something swirling around in his deep brown eyes, but Chan had no idea what it was. 

Anything but pity.

Lee Know didn’t say anything else, just kept his fingers pressed against Chan’s shoulder and sent Han a glare so he would stop staring at the two of them. Absentmindedly, Chan wondered how Lee Know had even noticed his breakdown. He knew how he looked when he had one; it was not very obvious. He'd spent hours trying to make sure it wasn't. At this point, most people assumed he was just deep in thought or focused on something in his head, which he was, but… well, not like that. But it didn’t matter. Right now Chan was just grateful Lee Know had realized something was wrong. 

The pressure on his shoulder grounded him, bringing his mind back to the present. It took a second, but as soon as he regained enough awareness Chan immediately recognized he was actively in the way and not helping the current situation at all. So, with a low grunt, he pushed himself to his feet. The hand on his arm disappeared, and Chan tried very hard to ignore the rush of loss that sent through him, but in the next instant Lee Know appeared in the spot he had just vacated and wordlessly started helping Changbin, who looked incredibly relieved. Chan kicked himself. There was a kids life at stake, and he was wasting time. 

He backed up. Not away from Felix, no, that would be ridiculous. Just far enough away that he wouldn’t be in the way. Lee Know and Changbin work well together, he thought, with very few misunderstandings for this being the first time they’d ever met. They were preparing their supplies, making sure everything was ready for when the knife came out, while Han disinfected some of the other cuts on Felix’s torso. Hyunjin was, unsurprisingly, still leaning against the wall looking a little sick, but now his eyes were fixed on Chan, who sent him a glare that made him look away as soon as he noticed. 

“Hey Chan?” I.N appeared out of nowhere and Chan flinched at the sudden noise, his mind still occupied with trying to separate current events from past ones. But he looked up and gave the blue haired boy a small smile anyway. 

“What’s up?” I.N looked down at his hands self-consciously, fiddling with his fingernails.

“Do you need me down here?” He eventually whispered, still not making eye contact. Chan studied him, waiting until I.N glanced up and met his gaze with a sheepish smile. He didn’t look scared, per se, but his pale face suggested he’d rather be anywhere but here at the moment. Chan hummed. He’s young, probably doesn’t do well with blood. Another glance at I.N confirmed that theory; he had looked away and had trained his eyes on the side of the room opposite to the couch where Felix lay, pointedly looking anywhere but the scene.

Another good thing to remember.

Chan peered around the room, trying to figure out how to answer him. The short answer was no, he was just going to do more harm than good down here, but Chan thought he should still make himself useful. His eyes lit upon Hyunjin standing in the corner and the answer hit him immediately. Quickly, he turned back to I.N, kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner. 

“Take Hyunjin to Seungmin, he knows who this kid is.” He spared a quick glance at Hyunjin, ignoring the pang of guilt the kid’s look of panic sent down his spine. But they had to figure out what this ‘Felix’ knew; this was serious. They were playing with fire now, one slip-up and all his plans went up in flames. 

“And you,” Chan crossed his arms and fixed his gaze on Hyunjin, who shrank even further into himself. “Tell Seungmin everything you know about him.” He gestured to Felix and Hyunjin nodded slowly, moving to follow I.N up the stairs. 

Seungmin will figure it out. 

“Chan, hand me those scissors.” Lee Know’s commanding tone reminded Chan of where he was and he quickly reached for the scissors, passing them into his waiting hand. With sure, accurate movements, Lee Know cut Felix’s shirt in two, revealing the mottled bruises and small scrapes littering his torso. It took a little bit of extra work to get the shirt over the knife handle without jostling it or pulling it out, but he managed, Changbin only removing the pressure for a few seconds as Lee Know cut the fabric away. 

Chan just stood there, watching. A part of him was screaming, needing to help the kid in front of him, needing to be able to prove to the two very well known and respected criminals in front of him that he could lead this team with his actions, not just his words. But the other half of him knew better. He was no doctor, had no experience with the type of injury that they were dealing with. Changbin and Lee Know clearly did. He was just going to get in the way if he tried to jump in. 

That didn’t make it any easier to stand to the side and watch. 

Helpless.

Lee Know turned back to the first aid kit still dissected on the coffee table and grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol from one of the pockets, uncapping it with a grimace. Changbin looked up at him through his fringe and shifted to the side so he would have better access to the wound. 

“You pull it out on the count of three, I’ll disinfect it, and then we can stitch him up.” Changbin grunted again–Chan recognized it as his affirmative sound–and Lee Know nodded. “Okay, get ready.” 

“One, two, three!” Changbin pulled the knife out with one swift movement and Lee Know immediately put pressure on the hole with a rag he’d soaked in rubbing alcohol. Even unconscious as he was, Felix flinched, his eyebrows furrowing as he groaned in pain. But thankfully, Han had seen that coming and materialized by Felix’s head, carefully placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. He was perfectly positioned to hold him down if he needed to, but the touch seemed to calm him enough for the other two to keep working. 

Chan appraised the young pickpocket again, watching as he quietly whispered in Felix’s ear. None of the rest of them had stopped to think about whether Felix might still register the pain while unconscious, but Han had realized what would happen just before it occurred and managed to stop him from hurting himself. It made Chan pause; that wasn’t what he would’ve expected from a criminal he’d found on the street. 

Still kneeling by the couch, Changbin threaded the needle and started carefully suturing the wound closed, completely oblivious to Chan’s internal monologue. Lee Know stayed close beside him, keeping the wound clear of blood and helping with the placement of the stitches. 

The downstairs was quiet with an occasional murmur from one of the two and Han’s constant, but near silent, whispers to Felix. Chan just stood there in the silence, watching. He should really go upstairs, check on Seungmin, make completely sure Hyunjin wasn’t a threat, double check that I.N was alright, but he couldn’t move. So, he stayed in the quiet, feeling incredibly out of place as he watched the three people in front of him work as a unit he wasn’t a part of.

After a few minutes, Changbin pulled the last stitch tight and gratefully accepted the scissors from Lee Know, snipping the thread and discarding the needle into the red bucket next to him. Sighing, he moved to brush the hair out of his eyes, but stopped suddenly, finally registering the blood staining his hands. Now that the adrenaline was gone and he looked closer, there was blood everywhere. Changbin froze, staring at his red fingers in shock. Neither of the two people next to him noticed anything, both too caught up in their own world, but Chan saw the way he swallowed as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry and closed his fists slowly. He started forward, planning on gently suggesting the young man should go wash his hands, but a sharp movement suddenly caught his eye, drawing his attention from Changbin. It was Lee Know, who pushed himself onto his feet and rolled his shoulder gingerly. Han looked up, drawn by the movement as well, and both of them watched as the most experienced of them started nonchalantly walking towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” Chan called after him, making him stop and turn his head back, a blank expression on his face. How is he so unreadable?

“To wash my hands.” And he continued up the stairs, ignoring the shocked expressions behind him. He’d done his part, more than he was planning on doing in the first place, they could deal with it from there. 

From the ground floor, Changbin stared after him with dark eyes and Lee Know found himself wondering what he was thinking behind his carefully constructed expression. Then he shook himself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t his problem. And he wasn’t planning on solving any problems that weren’t his own. So, Lee Know disappeared into the bathroom and washed his hands, watching as the water turned pink and swirled down the drain. 

If you didn’t care, why did you help? 

~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s ridiculous.” Seungmin deadpanned, spinning his chair around to face Hyunjin, who flushed bright red and threw his hands up in defeat. 

“That’s what happened!” 

I.N’s eyes flicked between the two people arguing in front of him, torn between trying to get them to stop or just enjoying how petty and dramatic they were being. Seriously, it doesn’t need to be this large of a disagreement. But, by god had they made it one. He rolled his eyes as Seungmin raised his eyebrow at Hyunjin, clearly about to protest again, and cleared his throat. Both of them turned towards him, looking as if they were both expecting him to take their side in the debate. 

“Can’t we just try to figure out who he is with what we’ve got? It won’t matter if Hyunjin’s telling the truth or not if knowing Felix’s name gets us the information Chan needs.” I.N said carefully, making sure he didn’t sound like he was choosing a side. 

Seungmin grunted, sounding vaguely annoyed. But he spun his chair back around to start tapping away at his computer again without other protest. Hyunjin, on the other hand, gasped dramatically and stared at I.N as if he’d betrayed him. 

“You don’t believe me either!?” I.N’s eyes widened and he waved his hands side to side immediately to try to deny it, but Hyunjin didn’t look convinced. 

“I’m just saying you don’t need to argue; I have no opinion on whether you’re lying or not.”

Uh oh, wrong thing to say. 

Hyunjin looked at his feet, a completely devastated expression on his face. I.N opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to come up with something to say that would rectify the situation and doing his best to ignore the very obvious chuckle coming from Seungmin’s general area. Vaguely, he wondered why Hyunjin cared so much about his opinion; he’d literally met him five minutes ago and they hadn’t even exchanged more than three sentences. 

Ding. 

Hyunjin turned to look at the computer screen behind him and I.N breathed a sigh of relief, hoping whatever Seungmin had found would distract him long enough to forget about being upset. 

But when he himself turned to look, the computer screen was just covered in a bunch of open tabs, the most prominent one being a website that made various sound effects. Seungmin didn’t turn around or look at either of them, but I.N could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he started talking.

“Now that I have your attention again, could we get back to the actual point of this conversation?” I.N nodded, trying not to smirk. He kinda liked this guy. 

Hyunjin walked forward, leaning on his elbows on Seungmin’s desk.

“I already told you everything I know, what else do you need?” Seungmin glared at him, pointedly staring until Hyunjin finally got the hint and sheepishly stepped back, taking his arms off the desk. Satisfied, Seungmin sighed and went back to his computer, clicking through a few of his various tabs so they could see what he had found. 

“There’s nothing here on a Felix. See,” He clicked into a different browser, one that looked more like a programming window than Google, and pointed at the top where he’d entered in the search parameters, “normally I can find people through old records, anything attached to their name, age, and location, but when I put in ‘Felix’ nothing that matches his appearance comes up.”

I.N leaned forward, scanning the screen carefully. Seungmin was right, none of the information that was coming up looked anything like the kid on the couch downstairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Seungmin give Hyunjin the side eye again and quickly opened his mouth to try to prevent another argument. 

“Okay, well, maybe that means that the parameters need to be adjusted.” He suggested. 

Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Obviously, but what do you suggest changing them to? We don’t know anything else about him.” Hyunjin leaned forward again, scanning the screen just as closely as I.N. 

“Felix is a foreign name, right?” He asked quietly. I.N nervously glanced at Seungmin, worried this might lead to more insults and another argument, but to his surprise Seungmin just nodded thoughtfully. Hesitantly, Hyunjin pointed to the top of the window. 

“What if you changed this so instead of looking for people, it searches for transfer students at all the high schools in the districts surrounding this one? He looks like he’s from here, so maybe he has another name in the system and just goes by his foreign name in day-to-day life .” Seungmin looked up at him, processing, and then quickly changed the search to what Hyunjin had suggested. More results popped up, and Seungmin quickly typed something, making all the transfer students from all the different schools pop up in one continuous list. 

“Why only the districts surrounding this one?” I.N ventured, hoping he wasn’t missing something obvious. Hyunjin looked down at his hands and swallowed, looking vaguely ill, but as he opened his mouth to answer, Seungmin cut him off. Whether he realized he was actually helping Hyunjin by doing so, I.N wasn’t sure.  

“I’m assuming he didn’t walk very far looking like that.” He said frankly. 

Oh. I.N nodded, grateful he hadn’t made him sound like an idiot for not putting that together. He certainly felt like one. But Seungmin had just been blunt, not exactly judgmental. I.N grinned; he was getting the district impression the hacker sounded like that a lot. But suddenly, something on the list caught his eye and he quickly pointed to the screen. 

“Wait, maybe him?” Seungmin stopped scrolling and clicked on the name he’d pointed at. The student’s profile popped up, showing a photo of him, and I.N slumped in disappointment. Whoever he was, he looked nothing like Felix. 

“Never mind, sorry.” 

“It’s fine, anything that catches your attention is worth a try.” Seungmin answered easily, clicking out of that profile and into another one. 

I.N stepped back, watching the hacker work efficiently through the list. It was kind of relaxing honestly, the clicking of the keyboard and near silent humming that seemed to be coming from Seungmin created a nice background noise. It didn’t even look like he knew he was doing it. I.N decided not to tell him; the melody was nice and he didn’t really want it to stop. 

At some point, Hyunjin had come to stand beside him and they stood silently in the corner of the room. Technically, they didn’t have anything else to add to help Seungmin’s search, but neither of them wanted to go back downstairs to face Felix and the weird atmosphere that had manifested when Lee Know had stepped in for Chan. Everyone had felt something happen, some shift, but I.N couldn’t place it and really wasn’t in the mood to try to figure it out. And it seemed he and Hyunjin were in agreement on that fact, so they just stood and watched Seungmin work. 

A few minutes later, Seungmin’s humming stopped and he muttered something, drawing Hyunjin and I.N’s attention back to his screen.  

“Found him.” 

There, on the computer, was the smiling face of the kid downstairs. And right underneath it, his name: Lee Yongbok. 

“You were right.” I.N muttered to Hyunjin, who looked sideways at him. 

“Surprised?” I.N immediately raised his hands to try to backtrack, but Hyunjin shook his head quickly and grinned. “Kidding, kidding, don’t worry.” Seungmin snorted, making I.N smile, and started entering Lee Yongbok into a bunch of different searches I.N had never seen before in his life, slowly compiling all the information he found into a separate document. 

“Everything here points to him being just a normal high school student; I don’t see anything that would be dangerous. But I also don’t have any idea why he would be here except for the fact that he went to find you.” Seungmin said, swiveling around and locking eyes with Hyunjin. 

“I don’t know what else to say, I already told you everything that happened!” I.N looked back and forth between the two of them, hoping this wouldn’t devolve any further, but Hyunjin wasn’t finished. 

“Bang Chan showed up, gave me his card, left, and then Felix showed up like two hours later, asked…” 

“Found anything?” Chan’s voice came from the doorway, making all three of them jump. Hyunjin immediately stopped talking, which made them look way more suspicious than they really were, but Seungmin quickly recovered and pulled up all the information he’d collected. With a smirk, he gently pushed I.N out of the way so Chan could see his screen, eliciting an offended squawk from the younger boy. 

“His name is Lee Yongbok, but he goes by Felix, and he’s in his last year at Ajin High School, but that’s basically all we could find. There’s nothing here that suggests he’s involved in anything shady except for him showing up at Hyunjin’s apartment asking about the painting.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. “By all accounts, he shouldn’t be dangerous, but I can’t tell you how or why he’s here and I have no idea why he looks like someone tried to kill him.” 

Chan nodded slowly, still reading through the information on the screen with a stony expression on his face. After a few seconds, he hummed thoughtfully and looked down at Seungmin. 

“Alright, that’s good to know.” He looked like he was going to say something more, but behind him I.N cleared his throat and Chan turned to look at him. 

“Where is he now?”

“Downstairs, cuffed to a bed until he wakes up.” Chan answered. I.N deflated slightly, thankful for the unspoken assurance that he was at least still alive, and then stiffened, finally realizing what Chan had actually just said. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hyunjin’s shocked expression and shot him a reassuring smile. That is a bit extreme, he thought as Chan started talking again. “There’s too much we don’t know about him, so until he can tell us himself that’s the safest place for him to be.” 

Hyunjin clearly didn’t like that, but he nodded, and Chan turned back to Seungmin. 

“Can you show these two their rooms? I don’t think they’ve had a chance to settle in yet with all the chaos.” Seungmin nodded and shut his computer off, standing up and stretching. Chan watched him for a second with a raised eyebrow, but when Seungmin didn’t acknowledge him he took the hint and walked away, leaving the door open behind him as he disappeared into the room adjacent to Seungmin’s office. 

With a loud sigh, Seungmin finished rolling his neck and started walking towards the stairs, only glancing back once to make sure I.N and Hyunjin were following him. Together, they walked through the kitchen and walked down to the first floor, ignoring Lee Know and Changbin standing together by the sink and Han sitting at the table with his head in his hands, staring at nothing. 

The stairs creaked beneath them as they descended and I.N focused on the sound, trying to forget about the bloodstain on the couch and carpet below him. Seungmin just walked forward, seemingly not affected by anything around him, and I.N couldn’t help but envy how calm he was. It must be so nice to not be affected by blood. He sighed internally. This seriously was the worst business he could’ve chosen. 

“This is where the rooms are. Mine is here,” Seungmin’s words snapped I.N out of his head and he forced himself to pay attention as the hacker gestured to one of the rooms before moving on and opening two doors further down. “And I don’t think these are taken yet so here you go.” 

“Thank you!” Hyunjin said, practically skipping by him and immediately disappearing into the room further down. I.N just stared after him, not moving.

This… was a lot. His room at home was still waiting for him, exactly the same as it had been when he’d left two days ago. Everything he owned was there, but now he was choosing another room, not even sure if he was going to be able to ever go back. 

“I.N?” Seungmin was still standing next to the door, watching him closely with a vaguely uncomfortable and slightly concerned expression. 

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” I.N took a deep breath and walked into the room, taking in the bare walls and basic furniture. 

“I’ll be upstairs.” Seungmin said, shooting him a small smile. I.N nodded, returning the smile and watching as he walked away. Then he turned around and took a deep breath. 

If this was just the first hour, these next three weeks were going to be insane. And they hadn’t even gone over the actual job they were here to do yet. 

I.N shook his head and chuckled dryly, wondering what exactly he’d just gotten himself into.

This is going to be fun. 

Chapter Text

Felix was floating.

The darkness around him was stark, but it wasn’t pressing in or suffocating him. It was just silent and calm, so different from what he was used to. So different from what one would assume a void of darkness would be like. It was peaceful, quiet, and steady. If you asked him, Felix wouldn’t have been able to say how he’d gotten there or what he was doing, but he didn’t really mind. It was nice. 

The pitch black almost made him feel as though he was sleeping, but something was simmering under the surface of his mind, making it impossible to fully drift off. But as much as Felix wanted to understand what he was missing, he wanted to continue relaxing more. With a deep breath, he tried to ignore it and let the buzzing in his mind go. It was too nice here to waste time wondering about pointless things. 

And so, Felix kept floating, blissfully unaware of his true surroundings. 

Until a stab of fiery pain shot through his stomach. 

Felix yelped and shifted, trying to get away from the pain, but the movement only made it worse. He stilled immediately, hoping it would stop, but the throbbing continued radiating through his entire body. 

What is happening!? 

Suddenly, Felix became aware of a pounding in his head and he whimpered, watching in confusion as the darkness surrounding him started to become brighter and brighter. 

And then his eyes, which he hadn’t even been aware were closed, opened. 

The light was so incredibly bright that Felix immediately squeezed them shut again, trying his best to return to the peaceful darkness. But the pain was constant and even with his eyes closed the light was still too piercing, endlessly drilling a hole into his brain. But his logical mind was still working, angrily telling him that just laying there in pain wasn’t going to fix anything, so Felix slowly forced his eyes back open, holding back a groan. 

Wait a second, where am I? 

He was laying on a bed, covered up to his chest with a dark red quilt. There was a nightstand with a lamp and a glass of water to his right and… he didn’t recognize any of it. 

Oh god, how did I get here? Felix wracked his brain trying to remember what had happened and where he was, but he was coming up blank. 

That can’t be right, obviously something happened. I should remember! Carefully, Felix tried to trace his thoughts back to the night, day, week before, desperately attempting to figure out what he was doing in this strange room. But it was almost like there was nothing to remember. The last thing he could come up with was getting off the bus after seeing Doyun, walking to his house, and then… nothing.

The pressure in his chest started to build up and Felix gasped for air, gulping down oxygen though his tightening airway. The constant, frantic motion of his chest was sending awful waves of fire through his ribcage, but no matter how much it hurt, he couldn’t stop. 

He didn’t know where he was. 

Locked in his frenzy, Felix tried to move to see more of the room he was laying in, blatantly ignoring the logical part of his brain that was yelling that moving was obviously just going to hurt him more. But as he tried to move his right hand to steady himself, cold metal bit into his wrist, keeping his hand pinned to the headboard. 

What the hell? Ignoring the pounding in his head, Felix turned to look at his wrist and froze. 

Handcuffs? 

“Why am I handcuffed!?” He managed to whimper, trying to gulp down his sudden nausea. Handcuffed to a bed in a strange room with his body in the most pain he’d ever experienced, and zero recollection of how he’d gotten there? Even his brain was going to have a really hard time trying to reason itself out of this one. 

“Felix?” A quiet voice shattered the silence and Felix snapped his head towards the sound, trying to see where the voice had come from. He blinked for a second, confused at what he was seeing.

“Hyunjin? What… where am I? What are you doing here?” 

The artist was sitting at the desk on the other side of the room, a sketchbook flipped open in front of him and a pen balanced delicately in his hand. One headphone was dangling out the front of his sweatshirt with the other still pushed into one of his ears, and he was staring at Felix with wide eyes. 

Ignoring the fog in his brain, Felix blinked hard to get the stars out of his vision and tugged his wrist against the handcuffs again. The movement seemed to shock Hyunjin out of his trance and he practically threw the pen down as he stood up and crossed to the bed. As he came closer, Hyunjin reached towards Felix uncertainly, attempting to help before he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly pulled his arms back to hang uselessly by his side. 

“Wait, wait don’t… you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Even panicked and confused as he was, Felix looked up at him and raised his eyebrows incredulously, making Hyunjin gently smack himself on the forehead. 

“Sorry, hurt yourself more.” He amended, the apology quickly falling from his mouth as he realized how stupid that must’ve sounded to Felix. The boy in question took a deep breath, wincing as it pulled at his ribs, and nodded slowly, relaxing his arm to stop tugging against his restraints. Hyunjin let out a breath and Felix looked up at him, leveling Hyunjin with as serious a gaze as he could muster. 

“Tell me where I am.” 

“You don’t remember?” Once again, Felix raised his eyebrow and Hyunjin held his hands out defensively. “That’s a fair question!”

When Felix didn’t answer, Hyunjin sighed and pulled the chair he’d been sitting in over next to the bed, sitting down with a sigh.

“We’re in Bang Chan’s warehouse.” The words took a second to sink in, but as soon as they did, Felix’s eyes widened and he tried to sit up again. Immediately, Hyunjin moved to hold him down, ignoring the flash of confusion in Felix’s eyes that quickly disappeared when the pain from moving finally registered. He let out a pained whimper and squeezed his eyes shut, not fighting against Hyunjin’s gentle grasp. 

“Breathe Felix.” Hyunjin said softly. He didn’t go of his gentle hold on Felix’s shoulders as the boy took one shaky breath after another, no longer fighting against the handcuffs. As soon as he seemed like he’d calmed down enough, Hyunjin let go and retreated back to his chair, keeping a close eye on the injured boy. 

“What happened to me?” Felix asked quietly, raising his eyes to look at Hyunjin with the best puppy eyes the artist had ever seen. But Hyunjin just sighed, his long fingers dancing on his knee betraying his calm exterior.

“I don’t know,” He answered, ignoring the crestfallen expression that quickly replaced the pleading hopefulness. “You just showed up outside the door, looking like death itself, and I was the only one who recognized you.” Hyunjin leaned forward, locking eyes with Felix. 

“Listen, I know you’re hurt and you don’t remember what happened and how scary that is, but I need to know… who are you? You just showed up at my door the same day Bang Chan recruited me asking about the painting, but he doesn’t have any idea who you are and all I know is your name…” He trailed off, seeming slightly embarrassed at the way he was rambling, but was it so wrong to want answers?

Felix just looked at him blankly, but inside his mind was whirring at a hundred miles an hour, trying to place all the information coming at him. He’d known Hyunjin didn’t know who he was and that he’d assumed he was with Bang Chan, but now that they were all under the same roof he could see how that would be slightly confusing. So he understood why Hyunjin was questioning him like this, but as he opened his mouth to try to explain, a sudden thought flashed across his mind, causing him to clamp his lips immediately. 

You don’t remember anything, who’s to say they didn’t do this to you? 

Felix glanced up at Hyunjin, who was just sitting there awkwardly examining his hands, and pleaded for his brain to cooperate. The last thing he wanted to believe was that Hyunjin had something to do with this, or that he was hiding some ulterior motive. He seemed so nice. But his brain stayed silent and his memories remained infuriatingly fuzzy. 

Which meant until they fully came back and he knew exactly what happened, he couldn’t trust Hyunjin or anyone else who appeared. 

“Felix?” Hyunjin asked, seeming to finally realize his questions weren’t going to get answered. With a resigned sigh, he sat up and changed his line of questioning. 

“Just… if you’re not with him, who are you with? And how did you know about Pomegranates and Squirrels?”

Felix let out a sigh of relief. That, at least, he could answer. 

Mostly. 

It was probably smart to keep most of his gift hidden for now. Seriously, Felix had no idea how Bang Chan was going to react to that and he really didn’t feel like being locked up or used for only his head. He shuddered involuntarily; his parents had already been doing that for years.

But Hyunjin was waiting expectantly, and Felix felt like he owed him at least a little bit of an explanation, so he started with the basics.

“I’m not really with anyone honestly.” Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, his mouth open to either interrupt or protest—Felix couldn’t really tell—but whatever he was going to say was cut off as he kept talking. 

“I’m just a high school student over in the Lower West Side, nothing special.” He shrugged as best he could with one of his hands restrained and his ribs immobilized. 

“But then…” Hyunjin trailed off, looking hopelessly lost. “How did you know about the painting?” 

“It’s one of my favorite pieces of art, but I’d never actually seen it in person, so when I went to the museum and recognized it I got really excited. But,” Felix pouted, gesturing weakly with his free hand, “It just looked wrong somehow.”

“So,” He continued, feeling suddenly apologetic when he saw Hyunjin wringing his hands anxiously. Of course he’s nervous, forgery is a crime and you know he’s guilty. Felix shook his head. He would never throw Hyunjin under the bus; they’d only known each other for a few hours collectively, but he just seemed too earnest and genuinely kind, there was no reason for him to be nervous. But, of course, Hyunjin didn’t know that. “I looked up where it had come from.” 

“And you found me.” The statement was flat and resigned, and Felix flinched. 

“It didn’t lead me straight to you,” He reassured the artist quickly, “Just your school. I narrowed it down myself afterwards by looking at your other art. You are incredibly talented.” Felix admitted, smiling a little when he noticed Hyunjin’s cheeks flush pink. 

“So you came to my apartment to ask me about it? Why?” 

“I was curious.” Felix wracked his brain to come up with a plausible enough lie that wouldn’t implicate his parents or his gift and the first thing that came to mind just slipped out without warning.

“I’ve always been interested in criminals.” 

Hyunjin almost knocked over his chair with how quickly he shot up and stepped back, a flash of confusion and hurt showing in his furrowed eyebrows before his face went completely blank. It was like all of the emotions that had been shown so freely in his expression before retreated and locked themselves away in his mind, leaving a completely unreadable face for Felix to see. 

Oh god, that was the wrong thing to say. Felix tried to sit up again, reaching out with his non-restrained hand, but Hyunjin backed up further and Felix couldn’t hold himself up, dropping back down on the bed with a wince.

“Hyunjin…” 

“I told Chan I’d get him as soon as you woke up; I’ve waited long enough already.” He said, completely monotone as he looked at his feet to avoid Felix’s gaze.

“Wai…” But the artist was already gone, disappearing out the door with a flash and leaving Felix behind more confused than ever. Where had he gone wrong? 

The sound of softly padding footsteps echoed down the hallway until they slowly faded out of earshot and Felix sighed. He really hadn’t meant to make Hyunjin upset. 

Why does my brain never actually help me with things I actually want to work out!? 

Once again, his normally chatty brain stayed annoyingly silent. 

But, for the first time since he’d woken up, Felix was alone. And Hyunjin had said he was going to get Bang Chan, so he was going to take advantage of the solitude while he had it. Slowly, Felix let his body relax into the—admittedly very soft—mattress, closing his eyes and taking stock of himself. 

His body hurt. 

People always try to say it in a new, original way, try to show the pain in a poetic sense that pulls on heartstrings and creates a picture for the people who have never experienced it in such levels before, but not Felix. 

He thought that was all a load of crap. 

There was a reason the word hurt was so short and simple; everyone knows what it means. And right now, there was no better word. Except maybe for just owwwww. 

Seriously, what happened that I can’t remember!? If there was ever a good time to remember, it was now, before Bang Chan came in and started asking questions he wouldn’t be able to answer. So, slowly and carefully, he shifted in the bed and tried to walk backwards through his thoughts again, drawing a line the way he had before. 

School, Doyun talking to me… he lets me leave on the bus, there’s my street out the window, walking up my driveway… He groaned in frustration. This wasn’t supposed to happen. As much as he hated it sometimes, his brain was his greatest strength. The possibility of it giving up on him had never even crossed his mind. 

Sighing, Felix opened his eyes again and looked around the room. The deep red quilt pooled around his waist caught his attention and he fiddled with the hem absentmindedly, studying the pattern. It was pretty: blocks of fabric in bright patterns and different colors overlaid on the maroon background with a beautiful swirling stitch connecting the squares together. Felix flipped the top of it over, wondering if the other side had the same colored squares, but was met with just a blank red fabric. It made the stitching stand out even more, the swirling thread the same deep color as the quilt itself, and Felix found himself smiling despite his situation. The quilt was clearly homemade; the thread was pulling out in a few places and there was a little white patch on the back of it with old sharpie marks, too faded to read. 

It gave him a nostalgic feeling, wondering who had made this quilt and who it was for. It was obviously well-loved and Felix’s chest squeezed involuntarily at the thought that someone had let him use a blanket like this. 

There were other little touches around the room, things so small most people wouldn’t notice them. A bookmark in one of the books propped up on the desk, a scrape on the wall that someone had painted over without filling in the little dent it left, and a little patch on one of the metal pipes that made up the ceiling, the only thing reminding Felix he was actually in a warehouse. 

Felix glanced back at the quilt, using his free hand to pull it up over his torso. The deep red color swam in his vision and suddenly, someone was screaming. Shocked, Felix snapped his head up and frantically looked around. 

He wasn’t in the warehouse anymore. 

His father was looming over him, a murderous expression on his face as his mother screamed in the corner. Confused, Felix looked down and was greeted with that same color–dark red… blood? 

“Oh my god.” In his—dream? vision?—Felix stumbled back, turning and running from the man behind him. His surroundings swam around him, blending into a kaleidoscope of colors that gave him a headache just to look at, and finally, everything hit him. 

This was what he had been missing. 

With a sharp gasp, Felix’s vision cleared and he found himself back in the room, clutching the quilt with white knuckles. 

It was them… 

The words flashed through his brain and Felix drew in another sharp breath through his teeth as the weight of the situation finally became clear. His father had done this to him.

Felix clutched the quilt tightly, staring into space blankly. What must it be like, to have someone love you enough to make you a blanket that must have taken so much time and effort? Felix wondered if they’d ever been tucked under it, kissed goodnight. He had been too, once upon a time. He never would’ve thought…

No. 

He’d known for a while, he’d just been trying to ignore it. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Chan.” A quiet voice called from the door and Chan spun around, instinctively trying to cover up what he’d been doing. Hyunjin sent him a halfhearted smile and Chan relaxed as he finally realized who was there. Having other people around was going to take some getting used to. He sighed and went to turn back to his work, but there was only one reason Hyunjin must be coming to get him and Chan froze as soon as he remembered what it was. 

“He’s awake?” He inquired quickly, placing his marker down on the bottom lip of the whiteboard in front of him. Hyunjin nodded slowly. All traces of his hesitant smile from before had disappeared and Chan frowned slightly, noting the uncharacteristic attitude. 

“Has he said anything?” Chan asked, quickly swiping a pile of papers off the table and shoving them into the file cabinet standing by the board. After a second, Hyunjin’s reply came. 

“…no.”

Chan glanced up, taking in the uncertain expression Hyunjin was wearing and paused, the sound of papers rustling dying down as they stared at each other. 

“Hyunjin?” The boy in question just looked at him blankly. He’d literally moved in yesterday, but that… that was just wrong somehow. Chan didn’t know how he knew, but Hyunjin wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

But whatever was making him upset might be partly his fault, so Chan decided to let it go. If it was important, he would find out eventually anyway.

Sighing, he gathered up the rest of his papers into a messy pile and shoved his phone into his pocket, intentionally not calling Hyunjin out on the way he was carefully watching everything he was doing.  

“Don’t stray too far, once I finish with Felix I’m calling a meeting so we can get this job done and over with.” And he walked briskly out of the room. 

Hyunjin didn’t follow. 

Click, clack, click, clack. The empty hallway echoed with the sound of his footsteps and Chan briefly wondered where everyone was. He hadn’t heard a peep from Han all morning, Minho had made himself scarce after the whole Hyunjin and Felix debacle the night before, and Changbin had already basically turned the basement into his own personal training center. As for the last two, Chan had barely been able to debrief them on his rules for going outside before they’d disappeared. 

The silence should’ve been nice. 

But before he could even start to decipher whatever the hell that meant, Chan was standing in front of the room Felix was inside. Slowly, he cracked open the door, not exactly sure what he was going to find on the other side. 

Instantly, a pair of wide brown eyes met his and they both froze. Felix didn’t exactly look surprised to see him, but he didn’t look fully there either. Chan clamped down the instinctive reaction to ask if he was okay and stepped inside, carefully shutting the door behind him so it wouldn’t slam. Without saying anything, he lowered himself into the chair Hyunjin had left behind. Felix just watched. 

“You’re Bang Chan.” 

Chan managed not to flinch at the sudden words. Call him crazy, he hadn’t really expected the traumatized, injured, young boy on the bed in front of him to make the first move. Great job Chris, he snorted to himself, one second in and Felix already managed to catch you off guard. 

“I am.” He settled on saying, leaning forward slightly. Felix didn’t move at all, one hand still restrained to the headboard and the other clutching the quilt pulled up around his chest, but his eyes gave him away. There was more there than Chan knew what to do with, but what was drawing his attention the most was the fact that he wasn’t looking away. 

“Why are you here?” 

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. 

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t ask to be handcuffed to a bed.” 

Oh boy, Chan had to fight to make sure his expression didn’t change at that, especially when Felix snorted at his own joke. This kid had guts. But unfortunately for him, that also made him less predictable, which in turn made him more dangerous.

“That’s not what I meant.” Felix cocked his head to the side, seemingly staring straight into Chan’s very soul. But Chan didn’t look away. Whatever this kid’s game was, he was going to figure it out. He had to; there was more riding on this job than anyone else in this house knew. After a second, Felix sighed and looked away, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the quilt tucked around him. 

“Let me change my question,” Chan leaned forward in the chair Hyunjin had left behind, catching Felix’s attention. “How did you find this warehouse?”

Felix locked eyes with him, some desperation showing in his dark brown gaze. Honestly, it looked as though he was trying to make some kind of a decision. Chan seriously hoped it was him choosing to talk, because if he didn’t, keeping him locked away here for the duration of this job was going to be a problem. 

“You.” Well, him talking was certainly moving the conversation in the right direction, but also, and more importantly, Chan had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to mean.

“What?” 

“I found it through you.” Felix sat up a little bit, grimacing as he moved. Chan held his breath, forcing himself to not reach out and steady the boy, but to his relief Felix got himself into a comfortable position on his own and started to elaborate. 

“To be clear, I have no idea what is going on here.” Chan scoffed and Felix frowned at him, making him shut his mouth and nod to get him to keep going. The last thing he wanted was for him to stop talking now, even if he didn’t exactly believe him yet. 

“Basically, I found Pomegranates and Squirrels at a museum near my house and recognized it as a forgery.” Chan’s eyebrows furrowed and Felix rushed to explain. “It’s been one of my favorite pieces of art for years and I’ve done like three different school projects on it, so when I saw it in the museum it just looked… wrong somehow.” 

That was an incredibly flimsy excuse, but Chan decided to let it slide. If he called him out on it now the story would probably end, and he hadn’t learned anything he needed to know yet. So he nodded, and filed the tiny sigh of relief Felix let out away for future reference. 

“So I went online and traced the piece back to an auction for a school fundraiser, found the program and the artists listed as training underneath it, and narrowed it down to a few that I thought could have pulled it off.” He paused, looking over at the sketchbook Hyunjin had left laying open on the desk. “It was a forgery, but it was an incredibly impressive one.” 

Chan nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair. He’d seen the painting too; it was most of the reason he’d decided to even try and recruit Hyunjin in the first place. 

“That’s how Hyunjin knew you.” It wasn’t a question, but Felix nodded anyway. “You traced the painting back to him and confronted him about it… why?” 

Felix tried to shrug and absolutely failed, wincing at the movement. You’d think he’d learn eventually that moving like that is going to hurt him, Chan thought, noting how tightly the kid was gripping the quilt he was pretty sure Han had stolen out of his linen closet and spread over the Felix while he was asleep. Which he was definitely pretending wasn’t as cute as it really was. 

It wasn’t a great situation; Felix was obviously stressed and exhausted and Chan almost felt bad about questioning him right now, but it was definitely better to just get this over with.  

“I was curious.” Felix answered slowly, looking anywhere but where Chan was sitting. “That was the only thing I was thinking of really, but when I showed up and confronted him about it, he thought I was working with you.” 

Oh. Chan nodded again, everything starting to come together in his head. Of course Hyunjin would have assumed the two of them were connected if Felix had come to his door asking questions extremely similar to the ones Chan had asked. 

“And he told you about me?” Immediately Felix shook his head and Chan raised an eyebrow.

“He showed me the card you’d left him as proof that he had received “our” offer and I memorized the number.” 

Chan frowned, leaning forward in the chair and crossing his arms. That didn’t make sense.

“That number is to a burner phone, how did you find this warehouse using that?” To Chan’s surprise, Felix took a deep breath like he was psyching himself up for something and started speaking again.

“I didn’t, I used your name.” Chan jumped as the foreign words sank in and registered in his brain, the automatic translator in his head kicking back on incredibly slowly, a side effect from years of disuse. 

“My name… you found Christopher.” Once again, it wasn’t a question. But as he did before, Felix nodded anyway. 

Everything was starting to make sense now. If Felix had figured out his real name, he would’ve found all the articles, all the speculation, who he actually was and what had happened to him. But he would’ve also seen the lists of his assets… which, somewhere deep down the rabbit hole of the internet, must have included this warehouse. And if Felix was following who he thought was a criminal (correctly, but he wasn’t going to tell him that), an address in the Pits was definitely going to be the first place he would’ve thought to check. 

But that left out one crucial detail. 

“That doesn’t explain why you collapsed on my doorstep an inch away from death.” He pointed out, switching back to their original language. Speaking the foreign words still hurt too much. 

“I…” Felix started to answer, but stopped almost immediately to take a deep breath. Chan narrowed his eyes, concern blooming as he zeroed in on the kid’s hands trembling on the edge of the quilt. Felix looked like he was about to start talking again, but as soon as he squeezed his eyes shut and took another shaky breath Chan decided to call it. 

“Felix,” The kid slowly turned to look at him, clearly trying to hold himself together. “Listen, forget I said anything, okay? It doesn’t matter right now, you told me everything I needed to know,” He took a breath, “Just breathe… everything’s fine.”

Chan pushed his chair back, wincing at the loud scraping noise it made on the concrete floor, and stood up. Felix followed him with his eyes, still looking a little bit out of it, and Chan turned back towards him as he opened the door.

“Thank you for talking.” And with that, he slipped out the door and gently closed it behind him. 

Did he feel bad about basically running away from the young man? Absolutely. Would he have survived another minute in that room after making Felix feel like that? Definitely not. But it was alright, he’d gotten most of the story out of him and based on what he’d gotten, he was pretty sure it was the truth. So, Chan walked back down the hallway to call the team together, trying to forget the traumatized look in Felix’s eyes. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Felix wasn’t sure how long it had been since Chan had left, but the stream of sunlight coming in through his window had moved to the opposite side of his room, so it had clearly been a while. Honestly, he’d been expecting someone to come back and question him about why he was beaten black and blue, but after what he thought must have been a few hours he’d stopped expecting anyone to visit again. 

So when the knock came, it was safe to say that he was surprised.

“Come in?” He phrased it as a question because he wasn’t sure if he was even allowed to invite anyone into this room. It was more like a prison honestly, so was he allowed to let anyone in?

But whoever was in the hallway clearly didn’t care, because the door creaked open and a smiling face poked itself inside. 

“Hello!” The person in question slipped completely into the room and skipped over to the bed, making Felix flinch away. 

“Oh, sorry.” The stranger seemed to realize he was making him uncomfortable, so he frowned and backed up a bit. Felix let out a breath, still confused as he watched the man’s gaze move up until he fixed his eyes on the handcuffs still locked around Felix’s wrist. 

“That looks painful.” Felix nodded slowly, glancing up at the metal biting into his arm. Around hour two, his hand had gone completely numb and he knew there were going to be bruises around his wrist for weeks after this once the handcuffs actually came off.

“Yeah.” He shrugged as best he could, looking up at the strange man who was still staring at his wrist. He looked young and his face was kind, probably about the same age as he was, but he was still a strange man standing in his room while he was restrained. 

“Do you want it off?” Felix furrowed his eyebrows, extremely confused. Was he here to let him out? Did Bang Chan want him gone? 

“Yes?” What is going on? Is he serious?

The man nodded and walked around to the other side of the bed, pulling something out of his pocket that Felix couldn’t exactly see. Then, with slow and gentle hands, he reached out and took hold of Felix’s hand. He couldn’t really see without craning his neck back, but Felix could feel the handcuffs moving around on his wrists and then suddenly, click. The metal fell off and the man gently lowered his arm to lay on the bed next to his torso. The blood started to flow back through the limb and Felix winced, looking up at the man and waiting for him to explain. But, as suddenly as he’d appeared, the stranger walked back over to the door and opened it to leave, only stopping when Felix called out for him.

“Wait! Why did you do that?”

The young man shrugged nonchalantly and grinned at the boy in the bed. 

“It looked painful.” He slipped out the door and stuck his head back in with a goofy smile. “I’m Han by the way. Sleep well!” Han waved and the door shut suddenly, leaving Felix wildly confused. But his arm was starting to get some feeling back and the sun was almost gone, so he decided to take Han’s advice and go to sleep. 

“Thanks, Han.”

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. 

Chapter Text

Fiddling with his rings is only going to distract him so long, Changbin thought, trying and failing not to be obvious in the way he was watching Jeongin.

It wasn’t working.

As he watched, the boy in question looked up right at him and met his gaze with a halfhearted smile. Changbin shot him a smile in return before quickly glancing away. It wasn’t like he was trying to be creepy, he was just bored. And when he was bored, he found something to watch, that’s just how he was. Blame his job—sitting around for hours waiting for a target could get tedious. But seriously, it wasn’t like much else to do in this room other than study the people around him as they waited for Chan to come back.

With a loud sigh, Changbin sunk down further into his chair, tapping his fingers against his knee in a random rhythm as he continued shamelessly staring at the group around him. The guy named Han was sitting across the table, scribbling furiously in a notebook and jiggling his leg up and down at a dizzying pace. Seungmin was squinting at his laptop next to Han, the expression on his face looking both like he didn’t want to be there but somehow begrudgingly interested in whatever he was doing. Honestly, everyone kind of looked like that, it was just different things that were occupying each of them. Hyunjin was sketching, which Changbin had already put together that he seemed to do a lot, and next to him, Lee Know was the only other one besides Changbin who had nothing in front of him.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and Changbin nodded in acknowledgment, not surprised in the slightest when Lee Know didn’t change his expression even a little bit. He liked the guy, in a weird sort of way. Based on the night before, he was clearly very competent, certainly the kind of person Changbin wanted to have on a team with him. But he seemed to be completely closed off, keeping everyone else at arm’s length and betraying none of his true thoughts on his face.

But then again, it had only been a day, so who was Changbin to judge.

Just then, the door to the small conference room swung open, drawing everyone’s attention to the man standing behind it.

“Hello everyone.” Chan said, entering the room with a tiny wave and smile that Changbin was sure was meant to make everyone in the room relax and effectively lower their guards. A quick glance around told him no one had fallen for the obvious ploy, but Bang Chan either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he made his way to his place at the head of the table.

It was so quiet, Changbin was almost waiting to hear a pin drop. The silence was absolutely stifling. Someone needed say something that would break the tension soon. Changbin would do it himself, if he thought he could actually make the situation better. But experience held his tongue. His father had always told him he was too blunt, too honest, so Changbin kept his mouth closed, remembering the first time he’d had been old enough to go out and accept a new job with his dad. Outside the door to the office of the contact they were meeting, his father had gently placed a hand on his shoulder and told him to stay in the hallway.

“You don’t mince words, Changbin-ah, and you’re not afraid to speak up and say exactly what you think. That’s not a bad thing, but when you negotiate it’s always wise never to say exactly what you mean.”

Thirteen-year-old Changbin had just cocked his head at him and his father had laughed at his confused expression, his eyes crinkling in the way Changbin could still perfectly picture in his mind.

“It’s like a dance, or a game. Each person is playing for themselves and everyone loves to keep their cards close to their chest. It’s good for us to do the same.”

Back then, Changbin had just nodded and his father had disappeared into the room, coming back out a few minutes later with a bright smile and a new name for them to scratch off. It was a scene that was repeated over and over again in the following years, but no matter how much he asked to learn how to play that game, his father always brushed it aside and promised to teach him when he thought he was ready.

And then, he was just… gone.

Changbin vividly remembered the panic once the grief had faded enough so that he could function again; the sudden realization that he didn’t know how to do half of the only job he was good at and the only way he knew how to make any money. His father had left him all of his old contacts, but none of the experience needed to deal with them, so Changbin had put himself on autopilot and blundered his way through, learning as he went. A few bridges were accidentally burned before he eventually figured out how to get what he wanted, but he was never good at it. Not like his dad had been.

So needless to say, breaking the ice was not his forte, and he immediately relaxed when he heard someone clear their throat to say something.

“Alright, I guess we’ll start with introductions first. I’m pretty sure everyone knows each other’s names by now, but I’m going to introduce everyone anyway along with their specific skill sets.” Chan put his back to them as he wrote something on the whiteboard, but within seconds he had turned around again and set the marker on the table, ready to officially introduce the group for the first time.

Changbin stared at the words written in large, bold letters across the top of the board, a sudden swell of excitement bubbling up in his stomach.

MISSION OBJECTIVES

It was about time he was a part of a good job again; it had been way too long since he took on something of this supposed scale. But Chan cleared his throat again and Changbin tore his attention from the whiteboard, trying his best to actually listen to his teammate’s introductions. Of course, they’d basically all already met, but this could be useful nonetheless.

“We’ll start on this side then.” Chan gestured to the end Changbin’s side of the table where Hyunjin was frozen staring at the man like a deer in headlights. Oh, thank god Changbin never ever sat in the front. “This is Hyunjin, he’s our forger.”

Ahhhh, that explains the constant sketching then. Changbin hummed thoughtfully as he watched the young artist. Hyunjin was staring at his half-filled page, seemingly waiting for someone else to butt in and say something, but Chan moved right along.

“Next, Changbin. He’s our hitman, the one who’s going to be covering all of our asses.” Chan chuckled darkly and Changbin gulped. That was new. Usually he was recruited to take people out, not protect them.

“I.N, navigation and infiltration.” Changbin didn’t know if he was imagining it, but Chan’s tone sounded slightly colder than it had been with his and Hyunjin’s introductions, and he bristled. Yeah, I.N hadn’t been recruited, but he was a kid. He didn’t need to be singled out to prove himself. But when Changbin glanced over, I.N was smirking at Chan with a glare of his own.

He can handle himself.

Chan narrowed his eyes for a spilt second, but it was hardly noticeable as he quickly moved on to the next members.

“This is Seungmin, tech support and coms.” Seungmin scoffed and typed something into his computer rather passive aggressively.

“Yeah, IT support, that’s me.”

Chan flinched a bit, looking slightly taken aback. No one else had said anything about their own introductions. The table sat in awkward silence for half a second, avoiding eye contact. Out of the corner of his eye, Changbin saw Lee Know’s expression change for the first time since they’d sat down. The man was watching Seungmin with a tiny, exasperated sort of smile, barely even noticeable to anyone not paying close enough attention.

Huh, looks like they know each other.

“Moving on… this is Han, our—sleight of hand enthusiast.” Han nodded with a wide smile, satisfied with the title, and gave everyone a tiny wave, making Chan snort quietly. From what Changbin knew of the kid, this wasn’t even a little bit out of character, so he let himself smile for the first time since he’d sat down. He’d noticed that, even from their very brief interactions, that Han had a way of making people comfortable. With that skillset, it made sense. And it was probably going to be pretty useful, a compliment to Changbin’s own almost nonexistent people skills.

“And Lee Know, con-man and infiltration.”

Interesting. Changbin had heard of a Lee Know through the grapevine before, whispers of a young man making his way to the top of whatever scheme he set his mind to next. Those stories had always made him curious, if not a bit uneasy. Looking at Lee Know now, he had no trouble connecting those two emotions together again.

Now that they were all together and each person’s specialty had been laid out in the open, Changbin had to admit he was getting more and more curious about this job. Chan had handpicked them for a specific plan, but what in the world did he need all these different specialists for? A hacker made sense for most jobs, but a forger and a hitman usually only got paid for very specific things: art and bodies.

So when Chan actually turned around and started writing things on the board, Changbin made himself pay very close attention.

“Because we’re pretty far out from the actual job, I’ll give you guys the broad strokes and the infiltration we need to set up for now.” With quick, sloppy handwriting, he wrote a name on the board, one that Changbin didn’t recognize.

Kim Jaemin.

“This is our target.”

On the other side of the table, Seungmin started typing slightly faster than he had been before, likely compiling an entire profile on the man. Changbin made a note to ask him for it later; it would be nice not to have to do his own research for once. And besides, anything that he could find online Seungmin could probably get in less than two minutes.

“Kim Jaemin is a wealthy business man who lives right next to the river and both owns and runs Locktae.” Everyone subconsciously shifted in their chairs at that name. It was no small business, Locktae was a corporation that basically ran the entire city. They owned everything. Changbin leaned forward a bit, drawn in by the ambitious target. Chan smirked.

“I take it everyone knows who and what I’m talking about. Good. Now, we,” Chan placed both his hands on the table and leaned forward, making eye contact with each one of them as he spoke, “are going to take everything from him.” Chan grinned widely, and Changbin was reminded of his first impression of the man once again. Someone who hides behind a smile.

There was more to this job than he was telling; Changbin could feel it.

Hmmmmm… interesting. Changbin glanced around the table at his… teammates. They all seemed interested, or at the very least intrigued, with the sole exception of Lee Know, whose expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. Not that it surprised him; it had only been a day he was already expecting the robotic reactions from the guy. But a throat being cleared brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Um…” Han meekly raised his hand and Chan smiled.

“You don’t have to raise your hand.”

“Oh right, sorry.” He lowered his arm sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. “It’s just, uh, how are we supposed to do that? Doesn’t this dude have like the strongest security in the city?” Next to him, Seungmin raised an eyebrow and started typing even faster, but everyone else at the table just looked at him curiously. Han furrowed his eyebrows.

“You guys know I’m a thief, right? I should know who is almost impossible to steal from.”

“Key word: almost.” Chan picked up his marker again and drew a quick sketch of a… building plan?

“This is Kim Jaemin’s office building.” He added a bit more detail to the drawing, filling in the doorways, staircases, and various rooms so they could all see. Changbin cocked his head, watching intently. Chan must’ve studied these plans extensively if he could just draw this all from memory. “Now, as you can see, Han is technically correct. There are almost no weak points or places to easily get in and out of the building. Because of this, there’s no way to do a quick drop in and take everything. So,” Chan turned around and looked at Han, “that is why Lee Know and Changbin will be going in undercover and assimilating with the workers.”

Wait, WHAT!?

Changbin could feel everyone’s eyes turn to him and it felt like he’d just been dunked in ice water. Chan was making a mistake. But he was still the leader, so Changbin couldn’t just flat out refuse. He didn’t want to come across as too antagonistic right off the bat. Start off diplomatic, that'll work.

“With all due respect…” Yeah, like that. “I have no experience with undercover work at all. I’m probably the person MOST likely to blow the whole thing before the rest of you can even get through the door.”

Chan crossed his arms and opened his mouth to answer, but a new voice cut him off. Changbin turned to look towards the end of the table and his stomach dropped. Jeongin.

“Why use a specialist in a field that isn’t their own? I have experience with working undercover as different characters, I could take—”

“No.” Chan cut him off, a stony expression overtaking his usual smile. Jeongin tried to speak again, but Chan held up a finger and he stopped, frowning across the table.

“I recruited Changbin specifically for this purpose. And I do have a reason, if you would give me a second to explain.”

“Please.” It was Seungmin who spoke up this time. He hadn’t looked up from his computer screen throughout the entire meeting, but Changbin couldn’t shake the feeling he was the person with the most information at the table right now.

Chan sighed and uncrossed his arms, sitting down at the table for the first time since he’d walked in.

“In order to get other people in the building without suspicion, we need two people on the inside working together: one office worker, and one security officer. Now, as Han pointed out, Kim Jaemin has an elite security team, one that could be very hard to infiltrate, but he failed to mention it is almost entirely made up of previous criminals. Mostly former bodyguards, weapon dealers, and… hitmen.” He turned to face Changbin. “You don’t have to be anyone other than yourself. Your past makes you the ideal person to infiltrate this group. The only thing you have to lie about is your reason for being there.”

Changbin gulped. Technically, Bang Chan was right. He was a well-known figure in that community, propelled into the spotlight by his father before him. It was more likely than not that all he would have to do to be accepted onto the team was put his name out to Jaemin and wait for an offer. Did that make him any more confident that he could pull an infiltration off successfully? Not in the slightest.

Changbin glanced up, his eyes drawn to the one person he was sure had the skills to pull off any sort of undercover work needed for the team. Lee Know stared back at him from under his fringe, his slightly narrowed eyes the only indication of his thoughts on the matter. Changbin desperately wanted to ask him what he thought about this first step in Chan’s plan, but a sudden cough from Seungmin startled him out of his head.

Later then.

“So, we get Changbin and Lee Know in first… I assume you need me to create a digital footprint for whatever alias Lee Know decides on and set up an interview for both of them.” Chan nodded, looking a little relieved at not having to argue with the hacker, and Seungmin gave him a quick thumbs up before immediately turning his attention back to his computer.

Changbin opened his mouth to protest again, but it seemed like he was the only one still stuck on the issue when he was immediately cut off by more questions.

“Alright, so we send two people in early to work the system, get us in, and then… what? What exactly are we stealing?” Han asked eagerly, leaning forward in his chair as his fingers tapped the table in that strangely rhythmic pattern of his. Out of the corner of his eye, Changbin saw Jeongin also lean forward, obviously interested in whatever answer Chan had. The man in question smirked and turned to his left, shifting all his attention to the one member of the team who hadn’t spoken yet. Hyunjin blanched white at the same time Han let out an excited squeal.

“Holy shit, I’m gonna be an art thief!!!”

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, an excited smile breaking out on his face. “We’re going after his gallery?”

Seungmin snorted.

“Of course we are, this man literally has almost 500 million dollars’ worth of art in his name. The list is pretty impressive.”

“WHAT!?”

“500 MILLION?”

“That’s INSANE!”

Chan rolled his eyes and shushed the group, waiting for them to calm down enough for him to speak again. It took a second when Han was literally screaming his head off in the corner. Lee Know looked like he was contemplating knocking him out right then and there.

“Why didn’t you just lead with that!?” Changbin asked incredulously. Even split 7 ways, 500 million was enough to get himself out of his shitty apartment, out of the debts he’d incurred after his father’s death… it was the cushion he needed to be able to actually be picky about the jobs he accepted. And it was certainly enough for him to get over his apprehension about going undercover.

“Hang on.” Jeongin spoke from the end of the table, finally managing to shut Han up. “You said this job was going to take three weeks. I don’t know how fast Hyunjin paints, but I’m pretty sure he can’t forge 500 million dollars’ worth of paintings that quickly.”

“You’re right.” Chan admitted, and Changbin glanced between the two of them, utterly invested, “The goal isn’t to make him think he hasn’t been robbed, the forgeries are only going to keep him from realizing the extent of what we take and stop him from finding us.”

Jeongin hummed thoughtfully and Chan looked around the rest of the table, almost daring the rest of them to question him again. No one took him up on it, so he stood up and tapped his marker on the board.

“Alright then, let’s get this done.”

Han was the first one to jump out of his seat, running out of the room saying something about art and a whole bunch of other words Changbin couldn’t catch before they all blended together and the young thief disappeared completely. Seungmin sighed and shut his laptop, exchanging a look with Jeongin before they both followed Han out the door.

The other four didn’t move quite as fast. Changbin was just waiting for either Lee Know to get up or the other two to leave; he had a lot of questions for the con-man if this whole undercover thing was going to work. After a couple of seconds of silence, Chan seemed to get the hint and stood up, pulling a few papers out of the file cabinet and gesturing for Hyunjin to follow him as he walked out. The artist somewhat confusedly obliged, leaving Changbin and Lee Know alone in the empty conference room.

“How do I not screw this up?”

Lee Know raised his eyebrow at him and Changbin flushed. He probably could have been a little less blunt about that. But before he could rephrase the question, the famous criminal leaned forward and let out a long sigh.

“I can’t teach you how to act.” Changbin opened his mouth, but Lee Know held up a finger and he shut it immediately, “There isn’t an easy way to prepare someone to go undercover for the first time. But,” He shifted in his chair, “I can give you a small piece of advice.”

“Please,” Changbin knew he sounded desperate, but at least it was for a good reason. “Five hundred million is too much for me to blow this because I can’t lie.”

Lee Know nodded slowly and pushed his chair out, moving to stand up as he spoke.

“You have to trick yourself into believing what you’re trying to sell. No one is going to buy it if they can tell you’re second guessing everything you say, so convince yourself you actually believe in what you’re doing.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh and hummed thoughtfully, “It’ll be easier for you because the only thing you have to trick yourself about is your reason for joining the team.”

Changbin cocked his head, letting the advice sink in as Lee Know nonchalantly stood and headed for the door, signaling their conversation was at an end.

“You make it sound so easy.” Changbin groaned, “I’ve never been very convincing.” He muttered under his breath, catching the older man right before he disappeared down the hallway. Lee Know stopped and turned around, the barest trace of a smile on his face.

“You might want to work on that.” And he vanished, leaving Changbin even less confident in his role than he’d been when Chan first announced it.

“Wonderful. 500 million dollars and…” He drew a downward spiral in the air with his finger, whistling until his hand hit the table and he threw his fist open violently, “…boom.”

Chapter Text

The train was quiet for a Monday morning.

The cars rattled their way across the tracks, jostling the few people inside. It was strangely comforting, at least for the people who’d grown up commuting by rail. Lee Know couldn’t exactly speak for anyone else.

The morning sun peeked through the grimy windows, shining in a way that would’ve been lovely if it wasn’t directly into his eyes. Thankfully, the train cut left and began weaving its way through the skyscrapers and high rises of the business district, blocking the passengers from seeing anything but the windows of various offices and apartments with their blinds drawn shut. The sun blinked away and began dancing across the metal floor through the gaps of the buildings, leaving Lee Know mostly in the shadows in his seat tucked away in the corner of the car.

An older woman was sitting a few seats to his right, calmly knitting what looked like a very cozy scarf out of her handbag. Two girls in their school uniforms were seated opposite him, sharing earbuds and laughing about something one was showing the other on her phone. As he watched, the train came to a halt and the pair jumped up, almost dropping their earbuds as they skipped onto the platform together, still gossiping about something. Lee Know ignored the tug of nostalgia in his gut and adjusted his glasses, looking down at the text Seungmin had sent him a couple of minutes earlier.

Interview at 0925 4^th floor 1439 Third St. Meeting with a Choi Hyuna, marketing and sales director.

And then a second message a few seconds later…

Be safe hyung.

A small smile worked its way onto his face without him fully realizing. It felt good to have Seungmin back. Of course, the young man could do whatever he wanted, it wasn’t like Lee Know had been trying to hold him hostage, but it had hurt when he’d woken up and the kid had just… vanished. Seungmin’s skills were undeniable, and they’d clearly grown from when he’d worked with him, but he wasn’t just useful as a hacker. Evading the police alone as a young teenager was incredibly difficult, and the kid had done it with ease. Lee Know smirked. Chan had awoken a fire in the hacker when he’d called him tech support; hopefully he’d be able to handle whatever craziness Seungmin decided to pull off next.

“Next station, Harold Square.” The automated voice chirped and Lee Know carefully stood, making his way to the doors before the train stopped moving.

“You have a good day at work!” The woman who’d been sitting next to him said kindly, her eyes crinkling with her smile. Lee Know turned slightly and returned the smile with a shallow bow.

“Thank you Halmeoni.”

The doors swished open and he stepped onto the platform, his smile for once genuine. Halmeoni was right, this interview was going to go perfectly.

The walk from the train station to the address Seungmin had sent him was pretty short, so Lee Know took his time, walking in a zig zag pattern across the various streets and admiring the designs of the buildings around him. Curse his habit of always commuting early, but even with his erratic route he still arrived almost half an hour before his interview was set to start.

It’s alright, perfect time to people watch.

Lee Know found himself a bench by the entrance and sat down, watching the steady stream of people flow into the office building. The kinds of people who worked at places like these were always incredibly interesting to watch. Some looked like zombies, shuffling in with their already half empty cups of coffee clutched tightly in their hands. Others, like this one particular young woman in a bright yellow skirt, looked like they’d been awake for hours already. Lee Know chuckled when he saw her; he was like that too and it had always driven Seungmin absolutely insane.

Before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed and he pushed himself to his feet, joining the crowd with a heavy sigh. It was always more fun to observe than actually interact. But this was his job, so Lee Know begrudgingly made his way to Choi Hyuna’s office and gave his name to her secretary before seating himself in the waiting room and pulling out his phone.

He might be a part of a bigger job at the moment, but Lee Know knew how to keep his business in order. There were running cons spread out throughout his network underneath him, headed by a select few he knew could handle things while he was preoccupied. A few of his associates had sent him updates about their ongoing business, mostly run of the mill things, but one text stood out from the rest. Frowning, Lee Know clicked on the message.

Leaked on lower levels, higher ups contained breach. Exposure level low but wanted to inform before Ganum swept it under the rug.

Lee Know barely managed to hold in his groan of frustration, holding his phone to his temple in an attempt to keep himself from throwing it across the room. Apparently, some people could never be trusted. He was going to have to deal with that quickly, and quietly.

“Park Jiwon-ssi?” Choi Hyuna’s secretary called, startling Lee Know out of his plotting.

Focus. Now is not the time.

With a deep breath, Lee Know rose and picked up his briefcase, the walls that were his character sliding into place as he walked over to join the young man.

Park Jiwon was a pseudonym he hadn’t had much opportunity to use, but Lee Know was oddly excited to slip into the role. According to the school and bank records Seungmin had scrounged up and altered, Park Jiwon was a 25-year-old business man who had grown up in the lower east side and graduated college with a degree in accounting. By all accounts, he was the perfect person to hire for this job.

But that wasn’t exactly why Lee Know was excited.

No, he was excited because there had once been another young man who had grown up in the same district as Jiwon. Another person who’d gotten into the exact same college; a person who had wanted nothing more than to graduate with a degree to support himself. The only difference between the two was that that young man’s dreams had been turned upside down and drug through the mud, leaving him desolate and alone. They were the same in every way except for the one that mattered. Luck.

Park Jiwon was everything Lee Minho could have been.

As hard as he tried to maintain the cold exterior he’d built, Lee Know couldn’t fully stamp out the joy that came from pretending his life had worked out the way it was planned. It made his job easier; the acting came even more naturally than normal. But even if the job did go exactly the way it was planned and everything worked out perfectly, Lee Know knew there would still be that twinge of disappointment at having to abandon his character and go back to the shit hand life had dealt him.

“Right this way Park-ssi.”

“Thank you.”

For right now though, there was no harm in pretending.

~~~~~~~~~~

The blank canvas felt like it was staring at him, burning a hole in the back of his head as Hyunjin rummaged around with his paints and brushes on the other side of the room.

Had he been trying to mix the perfect shade of brown for the last 15 minutes? Maybe. Did the color really matter that much? Well of course, they wanted this forgery to be accurate, didn’t they? He wasn’t avoiding the canvas at all. He really wasn’t. The shade was just too dark.

With a heavy sigh, Hyunjin scraped the paint off his palette and went to work mixing an exact, accurate shade match to the tree in the painting he was trying to copy this time.

“Out of the frying pan and straight into the fire.” He muttered under his breath.

Seriously, wasn’t that exactly what he’d done? If he’d stayed in his old life, he would’ve been forging. But he’d decided to leave… and now he was still forging.

One more dash of white and a smidge of red, mix it up… ah, finally. Perfect.

With a deep breath, Hyunjin turned around and walked up to the easel, eyes dancing as he pictured where everything would need to go to make an exact copy. Before he could stop himself and overthink anymore, he dipped his brush and went to work.

As always happened when he painted, Hyunjin’s mind wandered far away from the canvas and brush, choosing instead to focus on what exactly he was doing in this warehouse in the middle of the Pits. His mind told him he was surviving. It wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice, right?

Except that wasn’t true.

This had been his choice. He could’ve chosen to stay in his old life, to take Dr. Park to the police and confess what he’d done wrong, to face his family honestly and hope they would understand. It would’ve been terrible and hard and it probably wouldn’t have even worked, but it would’ve been the honest thing to do.

And he’d still chosen to run away.

No.

Hyunjin’s grip on his brush tightened and he stepped back, not wanting to ruin what he’d already painted. There was nothing honest in staying in the ruined shambles of his life before. He likely would’ve ended up as Dr. Park’s personal forger; his own little money machine. Outcast by his family, his passion turned against him and used. That wasn’t the life he wanted. At least here, he could paint on his own terms. And Hyunjin would be lying if he didn’t say that there was some part of Bang Chan’s plan that had awoken some interest in him. If a forgery of a piece was going to exist, let it sit in some rich guys office and give the real one a chance to be seen by the rest of the world again.

With a deep breath, Hyunjin stepped up to the canvas again. Something loosened in his chest, giving way as he gently placed the next few brushstrokes in their spots. After all, he was an artist. His original work or not, he was still going to make it beautiful.

The next few hours fell into a rhythm: mixing, painting, planning the next portion, more mixing, more painting, repeat. Everything else fell away, leaving only the paints and the canvas and the next layer of the piece. Hyunjin was halfway through the background when a quiet knock sounded on the door and he jumped, almost dropping his brush.

“Sorry!” Han yelped, covering his mouth in a lousy attempt to be quiet. Hyunjin huffed, halfheartedly pretending to be annoyed. Honestly, it was always kind of nice when someone swung by while he was painting to break up his hyper focused periods of time. He just wished he hadn’t jumped and broken that brushstroke off quite as aggressively as he did; now he would have to cover it when he started again.

“It’s okay.” Hyunjin said softly, setting his palette down on the table and carefully wiping his brush off. He did shoot a somewhat confused glance at Han when he didn’t immediately spill why he had interrupted him. From what he had gathered about the other, he usually didn’t need much prompting to start talking, but right now it didn’t look like he was going to start on his own.

“What’s up?” He asked, purposefully not looking towards the doorway as he continued to clean up. Everything tended to get pretty messy when he got into the zone.

“Well, um, nothing really.” Han let out a nervous chuckle and Hyunjin turned around from where he’d been organizing his paints, meeting the thief’s wandering gaze. “It’s just that no one else is here and I figured I would come hang out? I mean we’re on a team but we haven’t really met and, oh god, this is weird I’m sorry. We don’t need to if you don’t want its fi—”

“Nonono it’s okay!” Han stopped dead in his tracks from where he’d been backing out the door and they stared at each other, neither really sure about what to do. After a couple of seconds, Hyunjin smiled sheepishly and gestured for him to come in. “Sorry, it gets kinda messy in here when I’m painting.”

“It’s okay! I don’t mind.” Han said brightly, skipping in and promptly dropping onto the floor. Hyunjin cocked his head at him, an incredulous smile spreading across his face. There was a perfectly good seat right on the other side of the table, but he’d literally watched Han clock it as he walked in, so he didn’t bother pointing it out. He had nothing against him sitting on the floor.

“Sorry I can’t like, go out and do something. Chan really gave me like five of these to do and two and a half weeks to do them. Which is really fast.” He added, noticing Han’s blank expression.

“Ah, that makes sense. Don’t worry I’m good hanging out here.” Hyunjin smiled gratefully at him and picked up his palette again, focusing back in on the painting. He half expected Han to start up a conversation or something, but when he glanced up from mixing his paint he was just greeted with the sight of him laying on the floor with his feet up against the wall, staring into space.

…okay?

Hyunjin shrugged to himself and went to work, covering his last brushstroke and continuing on from where he’d left off. Without even noticing, he fell back into his zone, bringing the painting to life in front of his and Han’s eyes.

“What’s your favorite color?” Hyunjin carefully finished his brushstroke and turned around, raising an eyebrow at the man on the floor. Han hadn’t moved, just staring thoughtfully at the painting on the easel and waiting for an answer to his question.

“Black and white.” Han hummed and Hyunjin started painting again, curious about where he was going with this.

“Why?”

This time Hyunjin didn’t stop, continuing on with his work as he answered.

“They’re very versatile and useful in art, that’s for sure. But there’s also something solid to them, you know? Like reliable almost.”

“So, it’s not cause they’re pretty?”

“They’re pretty, but all the colors are pretty. Black and white are something more.” Han hummed again, his feet tapping against the wall.

“Aren’t they technically just shades though?” Hyunjin stopped dead, turning around and locking him with a glare.

“Don’t start.” Han chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. Hyunjin slowly spun back around, pointing to his eyes and then at Han’s in the universal sign for I’m watching you. Han waved him off and Hyunjin picked up his brush with a smile.

“What’s yours?”

“Red.”

“Red is pretty.” The artist smiled. He couldn’t explain it, but Han felt like red.

“Yeah, red like blood.”

“I was going to say roses, but okay.” Han giggled and Hyunjin smiled at his canvas. It was nice to have company while he painted.

They fell into a comfortable silence with the odd question here and there, like favorite season (winter for Han, autumn for Hyunjin), and favorite food (Han’s was cheesecake and Hyunjin’s was sushi). Another hour or so passed and Hyunjin had finally finished up the background and started layering on the foreground when Seungmin poked his head in.

“Chan’s ordering takeout for everyone. He’s in the conference room if you guys want to go tell him what you want.” He informed them before vanishing just as quickly as he’d appeared. Han shot up off the floor and ran for the door, stopping short right before leaving the room.

“Do you want me to tell him your order so you can keep painting?” Hyunjin waved him off, setting his palette down.

“Nah it’s okay, I need to get out of this room.” Han nodded and disappeared, making Hyunjin smile as he cleaned off his brush for what felt like the millionth time. Now that he thought about it, he really was hungry. And, if Chan was ordering food for everyone, that must mean they were all back from what they’d been out doing.

Briefly, he wondered what they had all been up to all day. Of course, he’d been in the room for the meeting that told them all what to do, so he should definitely already know, but his mind had kind of been fixated on Felix for basically the entire time. He really hadn’t been very successful in paying attention to the whole plan.

Whatever. He could worry about Felix and the plan later. Right now, he was hungry. Hyunjin set his brush down and left his room for the first time all day.

The room Chan had given him to set up in was on the main floor, right next to the conference room and across from the living room, so as soon as he walked out he was greeted by basically everyone else on the team. Lee Know was the first one he noticed because he looked very out of place in an expensive looking suit. He had clearly just come back, standing by the door talking to Seungmin and Changbin, the latter of whom looked very stressed out. Hyunjin vaguely remembered him kinda freaking out in the meeting about something, that was probably the reason why. I.N was also in the living room, though he was sitting down scrolling on his phone instead of standing with the others. It was pretty obvious that he had picked the chair furthest from the large bloodstain still in the rug to sit in, but Hyunjin completely understood that one. The stain was freaking him out just looking at it.

Trying not to stare at the others, Hyunjin nodded a quick greeting to everyone and speed walked into the conference room, barely managing to avoid crashing into Han on his way out.

“Oop sorry!” Han threw over his shoulder before he ran into the living room and threw himself on the couch, pulling out his phone to join I.N in scrolling. At the head of the table, Chan huffed out a laugh and typed something into his computer.

“You want food?” Hyunjin nodded quickly; he was really hungry.

“Can I have pork fried rice please?” That was always what he used to eat when he painted. Call him superstitious, but it felt like he should carry on the tradition.

“Of course. Anything else?” Chan added the fried rice to his basket and looked up at Hyunjin, who shook his head slowly. That was all the food he wanted, there was just also something he wanted to ask. But he definitely shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t matter to him. But…

“Did you get Felix food?” Chan snapped his eyes up to meet his, eyebrows drawn together in a vaguely confused look.

“Yes, I did. Why?” Hyunjin shrugged.

“I was just making sure.”

Chan nodded slowly and Hyunjin took that as his sign to leave the room, bowing quickly as a second thank you. He slipped out the door, just missing the way Chan narrowed his eyes at his computer screen, seemingly deep in thought.  

Back in the living room, Hyunjin nodded to everyone and made his way down the hallway to his room. He knew he was making himself more suspicious by asking about Felix, even if that whole thing had seemed to clear itself up after Chan had talked to him. But Hyunjin still couldn’t stop himself. The smiling kid that had showed up in that bright yellow sweatshirt outside his apartment should never look as bloodied and beaten as he had when he’d knocked on the warehouse door. Even if he was involved in some terrible things and secretly trying to take them down, he was still just a kid. And, Hyunjin could begrudgingly admit that he might have overreacted to being called a criminal.

But, try as he might, there wasn’t much he could do about that now, so Hyunjin threw himself onto his bed with a huff. Painting for hours on end was more exhausting than people think, and within 30 seconds the young artist was out like a light, his shoes still on his feet and a clean paintbrush tucked behind his ear.

Chapter Text

The moonlight was shining through a tiny crack someone had left in the curtains, creating a dancing line of light moving in waves across the ceiling. It was beautiful to watch, but Felix had been staring at for way too long. He had absolutely no idea what time it was, but the strip of light had changed from sun to moon hours ago and he still had yet to fall asleep. To be fair, that was really all he had been doing for the last two days, so maybe this was his body telling him it had had enough of lying around. It would be so nice to get out of this room, even for just a few seconds.

It is the middle of the night, it’s not like anyone else is going to be awake.

Felix glanced around the room, reassuring himself that no one else was there, and then carefully pushed himself up onto his elbows. It hurt, but it wasn’t incapacitating like it had been when he’d woken up the first time, so Felix took that as a win and gingerly slid his legs out from under his quilt. His feet were bare, but the cold concrete underneath them made him smile as he wiggled his toes on the ground. Slowly, and with the utmost care, Felix steadied himself against the nightstand and stood up.

And immediately stumbled.

“Oh WOAH!”

Panicking, Felix twisted around and grabbed onto the bedframe with an iron grip, barely catching himself from hitting the floor.

Okay, okay, this is okay, we’re fine just… slower this time.

His hand was shaking from how tightly he was holding onto his bed, so he used his arms to slowly pull himself back up and loosened his grip as soon as he was steady on his feet. Letting out a deep breath he’d been holding, Felix grinned at the fact that he was actually standing and pointedly ignored the throbbing pain in his abdomen.

The room looked different when he was standing up. The part he was most focused on was the door; he wanted to see the inside of the building he was trapped in. Every step sent a wave of fire through his stomach, but he was already moving, so what damage could going a little further really do? A lot, his brain so helpfully supplied.

Sometimes it was very passive aggressive.

Felix shook the idle thoughts out of his head and grabbed at the door handle, managing to get ahold of it on the second try. With his hand supporting himself, he leaned on the door frame and took a second to catch his breath. Bang Chan had handcuffed him to the bed. Regardless of the fact that he was injured and definitely not supposed to be walking around, Felix exploring the warehouse was a liability to whatever these people were doing and everyone knew it, including him. But he couldn’t stay trapped in a room forever. And besides, maybe it was a side effect of getting stabbed by his own father, but Felix was kinda done with doing what he was told. So, the door creaked open and the young man inside took a careful step into the hallway.

It was dark, obviously. There were lights coming out from underneath a few of the doors down the hallway, so Felix very purposefully eased himself in the opposite direction, thanking his lucky stars when it didn’t lead him to a dead end. Instead, the space opened out into something akin to a living room? He couldn’t really tell; it was really dark… and a little fuzzy looking? There were random spots of bright light too. This was a very strange living room.

Felix grabbed onto the thing nearest to him, the railing of the metal staircase, and blinked hard. His body was screaming at him to stop moving, lay down and sleep for another 3 days, but he was at least ten feet from the door to his room and suddenly Felix was very unsure of his ability to successfully walk back the way he came.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice.

Okay, okay, just go for it. He took a deep breath. One, two, three… Felix let go of the handrail and took a step, and then another one, and another… uh why does it sound like I’m was standing next to an airplane taking off?

“Hey what are you… whoa watch it-EASY!” Suddenly an arm was wrapped around his waist, pressed against his wound as he was jolted out of his fall. The world stopped shifting, replaced by a sudden flash of pain fading into blackness. Felix exhaled in relief as the noise in his head faded.

Leaving Seungmin standing utterly bewildered in the hallway, supporting Felix’s entire weight in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

What the fuck.

After a split second of standing frozen in shock, Seungmin slid his right hand out from where it was supporting the kid and went to poke him in the face, grunting with the effort it took to support him with only one arm.

I should really go to the gym more, cause damn, this kid should not be this heavy.

Aborting that attempt before he dropped an already injured person on concrete, Seungmin gingerly shifted under Felix until he was holding him under his shoulders instead of around his waist and gently lowered him to the ground.

And then poked him in the cheek.

“Are you alive?” There was no immediate movement or answer. Ignoring how concerning that was, Seungmin moved to fold Felix’s shirt up to check the bandages wrapped tightly around his middle. Somewhere in the back of his mind he absentmindedly wondered whether he should get Chan to deal with this new development, but a tight hand suddenly gripping his wrist shocked that thought right out of his head. Seungmin’s eyes snapped up to Felix’s face, meeting a pair of very awake, very wide, and very scared looking eyes.

Seungmin let go of the kid’s shirt as if he’d been burned and scooted back with his hands in the air, giving Felix some space to see he hadn’t been trying to hurt him.

“Wha…what are you doing?” The kid was clearly trying to sound intimidating, but he was injured, lying on the cold concrete floor of a warehouse with probably no idea what was going on, and had woken up to a complete stranger trying to pull his shirt up.

He sounded downright terrified.

“I was checking to make sure you hadn’t ripped any of your stitches.” Seungmin hastily clarified, unable to stop a smidge of disapproval from slipping into his next words. “That can happen when you try to walk around less than two days after getting stabbed.”

Felix had the sense to look a little sheepish at that, and the edge of terror that had been lining his body loosening up as he realized Seungmin hadn’t been trying to hurt him more.

“…sorry. Did I rip any?” Seungmin shrugged, slowly sliding himself back to where he’d been sitting before.

“I haven’t looked yet; you were only out for a couple seconds.” Felix mouthed a quiet oh, nodding slowly as he let his head drop back onto the concrete. The dull knock it made against the floor made both of them grimace.

“May I?” Seungmin asked, not moving a muscle as he watched Felix ponder before he sighed in resignation and grunting out a quiet yes. Thank god. He might not be the best person to help in this situation, but there was no world where Seungmin was going to just leave this kid on the floor or escort him back to his room without checking his stiches.

Seungmin gently lifted his shirt only high enough to expose the bandages and began gingerly unwrapping them, flinching at every wince or sharp exhale from Felix. This was so not his forte. Seriously, where is Minho when I need him? Seungmin sighed. He knew exactly where he was: asleep in his room like any sensible person would be at three in the morning. Why Felix had decided this was a good time to go exploring, Seungmin had no idea, but he supposed he should be glad he was still awake to keep him from fully collapsing on the concrete floor.

Seungmin gently unpeeled the final layer of the bandage from Felix’s stomach and lifted the gauze pad, whistling quietly at the amount of blood the gauze had soaked up. Thankfully, no more blood pooled up as he dabbed at the wound to clean it, and the stitches looked intact. The cut was red and raw, swollen around the thread, but thankfully it wasn’t discolored and there wasn’t anything but dried blood around it. He let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t think you ripped any.” When Felix didn’t say anything, Seungmin glanced up at his face, grimacing at the pained expression he was wearing. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were pressed together in a thin line; Seungmin honestly couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.

“Felix?” The young man on the ground cracked one of his eyes open, but his expression didn’t change in the slightest and Seungmin frowned.

“Please say something, you’re starting to freak me out.” Finally, Felix opened both of his eyes and looked at the hacker.

“Ow.”

Seungmin snorted.

“Succinct.”

Felix closed his eyes again, letting his head rest on the cold concrete floor, and furrowed his brows. Seungmin grimaced in sympathy. Being stabbed has got to hurt like a motherfucker, I don’t blame the kid for not wanting to talk. Then a thought hit him like a bolt of lightning, sending a cold flash through him.

“Did anyone give you pain meds when you woke up?”

Felix grunted.

“No.” He forced his eyes open, squinting judgmentally. “I woke up handcuffed and was immediately interrogated.” Seungmin swallowed hard, the pit of his stomach turning uncomfortably. That was just inhumane. As much of a threat this kid could pose, nothing was worth putting someone through that much pain. Besides he didn’t exactly look very dangerous immobilized on the ground. So, Seungmin made a decision.

“Do you think you can stand if I help you?” Felix took a second to respond, clearly taking stock of his injury to hopefully try and give him a realistic answer, which Seungmin appreciated.

“Probably?” Seungmin nodded slowly, mulling over his options. Honestly, anything was better than leaving him on the ground in this much pain, so the decision didn’t take him too long.

“I just want to help you to the couch so you’re not laying on the ground while I go raid the cabinet for medicine.” He placed the gauze pad over Felix’s stiches and loosely wrapped the bandage back around his abdomen to hold it in place. “I’ll replace the gauze and the wrapping while I’m at it.”

When he finished replacing the bandage, Seungmin looked up at Felix and froze, trapped by the young man’s intense gaze.

“…what?” He asked defensively, not sure why he was looking at him so intently.

“Why?”

Seungmin frowned, not understanding the question.

“Why what?”

 “Why help me?” Felix sounded genuinely confused now, and Seungmin frowned again for a different reason this time.

“Because you’re in pain and I can help.” He gently pulled Felix’s shirt back down and started helping him sit up, wincing when he hissed in pain. “Who wouldn’t?” Felix giggled at that, sounding slightly insane.

“Most people wouldn’t, believe it or not.” He shrugged, wincing as the motion pulled at his stitches. “And yet, somehow, two people here already have.”

“Two?” Seungmin prompted, trying to keep him talking as he slowly pulled him to his feet, supporting most of his weight. Felix was doing pretty well, but Seungmin still pulled his arm around his shoulder and gingerly held his waist as they slowly moved to the couch that was thankfully only a few meters away.

“Yeah, Han unlocked my handcuffs earlier.” Felix sighed and relaxed, and Seungmin tried not to fall over as more of his weight fell on his shoulders.

“Did he now?” Seungmin grunted, unable to hide his smirk even as he tried to move Felix across the room. I should’ve known. Han seemed like the kind of guy who would do whatever he felt like doing, but Seungmin could respect the fact that in the two days he’d known him, most of those things had been for the sake of others. Unlocking Felix’s handcuffs was only solidifying his quickly growing fondness of the thief, despite his talking habits.

“Yeah, it was nice.” Felix slurred, his tiredness starting to mix with the pain in a very uncomfortable way. “My wrist hurt.”

Seungmin nodded sympathetically, too focused on getting to the couch to respond. Two more steps… one more… there we go.

“Careful, sit slowly.” Felix tried his best to oblige, but halfway down his legs just gave out on him and Seungmin couldn’t stop him from falling the rest of the way. He hit the couch pretty hard, gasping on impact, and Seungmin winced. That looked like it hurt.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.” Felix scoffed and shot him a tired thumbs up, so Seungmin turned his back to him and went to figure out where the first aid kit had disappeared to, knowing he would probably get yelled at for leaving him alone so close to the door. As if he could get anywhere if he tried. Seungmin rolled his eyes. If they tried to yell at him tomorrow he was just going to laugh.

He ended up finding the kit haphazardly thrown in the back of a kitchen cabinet, not even zipped up. Not that it mattered, as long as there was some kind of pain medication in there, he was happy. There was really only ibuprofen, but Seungmin figured it was better than nothing and grabbed the bottle, a new gauze pad, and a roll of bandages. Leaving the kit exactly how he’d found it, he closed the cabinet and filled up a glass of water for Felix to take the pills will. Armed with his supplies, Seungmin silently made his way back down the spiral staircase to the couch Felix was laying on. His eyes were closed, so he shook his shoulder gently, handing him the pills and water when he focused enough to take them.

“Thank you.” Felix downed the medicine and Seungmin took the water back, setting it on the coffee table before turning back to the young man on the couch. His eyes had already shut again, and Seungmin smiled softly. He looked so peaceful; it was much better than the pained expression he’d been wearing this whole time. Standing there watching him, Seungmin quickly decided he didn’t need to cause him any more pain tonight; dressing his injury could wait until later in the morning. So, he set the supplies on the coffee table next to the water and sank into one of the armchairs facing the couch.

The sound of Felix’s soft snores filled the room and Seungmin relaxed into the soft upholstery. He’d done all he could tonight, and the young man wasn’t going anywhere, so he let himself drift off, trusting his instincts to wake him up if anything happened.

This will be fun to explain in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~

Why does everything important always have to happen so early in the morning? Changbin groaned and dragged his hand across his face, slamming his alarm with his elbow until it turned off. Hitmen were supposed to be night owls, they almost always operated under the cover of night. Changbin was good at his job; he’d been on that kind of a schedule for years. An alarm going off before ten, let alone FIVE, was absolutely criminal.

But Seungmin had been able to set up an interview later that morning and Changbin unfortunately had errands to run beforehand. After all, he would be damned if he didn’t carry on the tradition his dad had started years prior. The man had loved playing into stereotypes, using it to control the perceptions of the people who had hired him, so he had implemented a rule that Changbin had still never broken.

Show up on a motorcycle.

There weren’t many other things that would make quite the first impression like someone in all black and knowingly armed showing up on a bike. At this point, no self-respecting Seo like Changbin himself could show up on anything less.

That left just a teensy, tiny problem. His bike was currently locked in a garage in the district he had just fled, crawling with gang members he didn’t want to see, about an hours’ worth of travel in the exact wrong direction. Seriously, he couldn’t have planned it worse if he’d tried. But there was nothing he could do to change it, so, no matter how much he loathed it, the alarm had been set at the abominable time of 0500.

With the thought of 1/7^th of 500 million dollars motivating him, Changbin took a deep breath, sat up, and swung his feet over the side, heaving himself upright with a heavy sigh.

The room was laid out simply, but he still somehow managed to stub his toe twice on his way out the door. Curse his clumsiness. Now being extra careful, he padded softly through the dark hallway to the bathroom and flicked on the light, revealing his glorious case of bed head.

Oof.

Changbin huffed out a laugh and turned on the shower, waiting until the mirror fogged up before he climbed in. The scalding water burned into his back, finally shaking himself out of his sleepiness, and in no time, Changbin was back in his room suiting up. Not literally, of course. Lee Know had worn a nice suit for his meeting, but for Changbin’s kind of interview, he needed to dress for his specific part. Which, unfortunately, meant a lot of dark leather on what was supposed to be a very hot day. Changbin sighed and pulled on his jacket. What could he say, it was his uniform; it had been for years. A little bit of discomfort wasn’t going to change that. Thankfully, no matter what he wore, his guns always sat in the same spots. One inside his jacket and one strapped to his ankle, along with a thin knife tucked in his sleeve. Changbin ran his hand down his side, making sure everything was in place, and headed out of his room.

It was too early for anyone else to be awake, so Changbin didn’t pay much attention to the living room as he walked towards the door. The light was barely starting the peek through the windows, casting a creepy looking shadow across the floor, and Changbin had places to be. So, he hustled through the open space, almost making it all the way to the door before a random bit of movement that seemed different from the light caught his attention. Slowly, he turned around, surveying the space a little closer than he had before until he saw something that made his breath catch in his lungs.

Someone was laying on the couch.

“What the fuck.” Changbin whispered, freezing in his tracks as he tried to figure out which one of them had just randomly decided to sleep in the middle of the cold warehouse. Slowly, he turned around, inching closer until he saw the head of blonde hair on the person laying down, their face buried in the corner of the couch. Wait, blonde?

Out of the corner of his eye, Changbin saw another bit of movement and jumped. He swung around, his knife halfway out of its sheath, and made direct eye contact with Seungmin.

“What are you doing out here?” He whisper-shouted, sliding his knife back into place and glancing back at the couch, finally recognizing the blonde sleeping there. “And why is he on the couch? That scared the hell out of me!”

Seungmin yawned, dragging a hand across his eyes tiredly, and gestured for Changbin to calm down.

“I found him collapsing in the hallway at three in the morning and I wasn’t going to leave him there, so I helped him to the couch and gave him pain meds.” Changbin grimaced, glancing back and forth between Felix and Seungmin. He’d been stabbed before, so he could appreciate the pain the young man must be in. And he couldn’t blame Seungmin either. It wasn’t like he had a very good track record of leaving young men in trouble. So, he sighed in resignation and pointed a finger at the hacker.

“Take care of him, but don’t let him out of your sight. I don’t want to find out what Bang Chan will do if we lose him.” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, but he nodded in agreement.

“That would be why I’m hanging out in the living room.” He pointedly looked at his watch and Changbin huffed, turning around and heading for the door. Seungmin had it covered, and he had places to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

An agonizing hour-long commute later, Changbin stepped off the bus into the already hot sun, keeping his eyes trained on the concrete as he made his way towards his apartment building.

Logically, there was no way that Echo, the gang Jeongin had been part of, had put the puzzles pieces together enough to come after him. He’d been operating in the district they claimed to have complete control over for almost a year now. It was safe to say that they weren’t the brightest. And Changbin was almost positive the couple of people who had seen him take out the bastard holding the gun in Jeongin’s face were just goons who wouldn’t have known his name or reputation on sight alone.

Still, it never hurt to be careful.

He made it to his apartment with no problems, as expected, and took the stairs two at a time. This place might be a shithole, but it was still his home. Thankfully, it looked like the front door was still intact and no one had left anything outside, so Changbin unlocked the deadbolt and slipped inside.

It took no time at all to find the keys to the garage and his bike, but he lingered in the doorway, taking in the small space that was his home. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time he saw it, but with the nature of business he was in and the kid he had just stuck his neck out for, there was really no telling. A wave of nostalgia hit him as he stared at the ratty posters a younger version of him had hung around the living room and the various pieces of furniture he would never tell anyone came out of dumpsters and off of street corners. When he’d moved in, the apartment had had nothing personal, just the bare basics to stay alive. That had been its whole purpose originally, a safe house set up to stay out of sight and under the radar.

Circumstances had changed that purpose.

Not after a few nights sleeping on the streets first though. Changbin thought with a huff. It wasn’t his fault; he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly those first few nights on his own.

Still, as horrible as the origins of this place were, he could begrudgingly admit that now, after his first attempt at interior design, he kind of liked it.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, reassuring him that the apartment was in fact empty save himself, Changbin trudged down the hall and into his bedroom, stopping in front of his bedside table with a jolt. He wasn’t supposed to be sentimental. That was always what he had been taught; trust was good, but connections only got you hurt. But… he slid the drawer open slowly, locking eyes with the smiling face of his father in the one physical photo he had left.

How could he not be sentimental towards the one person who had shaped everything he was?

Quickly, before his father could look down from wherever he was and shake his head in that disappointed way of his, Changbin snatched the photo out of the drawer and tucked it in the breast pocket of his leather jacket. Maybe he could draw out some of his father’s charisma and people skills via osmosis. Anything was worth a shot at this point.

A glance at his watch shook him out of his nostalgic mood and Changbin ran for the door.

But if anyone who might’ve been watching saw him stop for a brief moment to stuff his fluffy white blanket into his backpack for Jeongin… no they didn’t.