“Jisung, you’re burning a hole in the side of my head,” Minho hummed as they drove through the city. “What is it?”
Jisung didn’t answer for a second, his voice tangled up with his thoughts. “I just don’t understand you.”
“No one does, so?” Minho said, his lips quirking up.
“You kept Nightfield from burning down, you obviously have a lot of connections all on your own, and then you just took control of the Assembly so easily. How have you managed it all?”
Minho shrugged. “You mostly know where I came from, so you could say I learned a thing or two and turned those skills around to benefit me.”
Jisung noticed the way he avoided talking about the organization from their past and he didn’t ask any further questions. It seemed Minho wanted to keep that from his men. “Well you seem pleased, I’m assuming everything went according to plan?”
“It did, actually. The game is set and I can finally start moving the pieces I’ve gathered.”
“Do I even want to know what you’re up to?”
“Perhaps not.”
“I thought so.”
“It will all come to light eventually. I may not want that to happen, but I’m sure it will.” Minho sighed, running his hand through his hair as he laid his head back against the seat.
Jisung watched the movement, unaware of what he was doing. He caught himself a second later and glanced away. Minho was a handsome man, there was no denying that, but he didn’t need to stare at him. “I’m guessing I’m still your prisoner despite everything going your way?”
“You were the first thing I wanted and I got it, so yes, you’re still stuck with me.” Minho loosened his tie as he looked at him with a small smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Jisung swallowed, cursing himself for looking too closely again. “Hypothetically, if you were to let me go, what would happen?”
“Hypothetically?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Minho tilted his head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Well, you would run off and probably try to escape this whole mess of a life we call the mafia. But something would stop you and you would be trapped forever. Hypothetically.”
Jisung stared at him. “Do you really think I’m so weak and stupid?”
“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m worried you’ll slip away right under my nose and I won’t notice until it’s too late. You’re quite the threat, Han Jisung. It’s why I’m being so careful.”
“So I could kill you right now.”
The two guards immediately had their hands on their weapons, ready to pounce.
Without looking away, Minho held his hand up, stopping them as he smirked. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Are you challenging me right now?”
“And if I am?”
I’ll take you up on that challenge.”
Minho was grinning now. “Let’s kill each other over dinner.”
“Bulgogi?”
“Sounds delicious.”
Jisung caught himself smiling, and he looked away like a coward. What the hell am I doing? This is Lee Minho, I’m supposed to hate him.
Minho chuckled at the sudden lack of response. “I hope you don’t stand me up. I’ll be very disappointed.”
“I’m a man of my word.”
“Good.”
I’m screwed.
By the time they arrived back at the house, Jisung was ready to fall into a bed and never get up. The Assembly lasted and agonizing eight hours, and he wanted to sleep the memory of it away. But, before he could do that, he needed something to eat.
Of course, the moment they stepped onto the porch, Minho clamped the anklet on Jisung and then excused his men. The brutes still watched Jisung warily as they left, but he was already heading inside, too tired to deal with much else today.
“So, how was your day out?” Minho asked casually as they both entered the kitchen. “Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”
Jisung got to work on making himself some tea. He desperately needed some. “Oh yes. I’d dare say it was even magical.”
“So I exceeded your expectations. As I hoped.”
“Yes, you did.” Jisung glanced back at Minho. He was crouched with his back turned as he looked through a lower cupboard. Jisung noticed the gun he had holstered at his side was now exposed.
Take advantage, idiot!
Slowly, carefully, Jisung set his things down, his eyes never leaving Minho as he crept forward on silent feet. Despite Minho warning him about the dangers of leaving, Jisung was still determined to escape. After all, he was a prisoner and he still didn’t trust him. He pulled his suit jacket off and dropped it.
Minho’s back was still turned. “Are you hungry, or-“
Jisung lunged as the other man turned to face him, grabbing the gun before Minho could react. He held it up, aiming it at his forehead.
“I should have seen that coming,” Minho muttered, shaking his head as he sat completely on the floor.
A smirk graced Jisung’s lips. “Surprise attack.”
Minho let his head fall back against the cupboard he sat in front of. “What now?”
“Now you take this anklet off me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You’ll get a bullet in your leg.”
Minho’s dark eyes slowly moved down Jisung and back up again, sending strange tingles down his spine. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“I don’t have much of an option, do I?”
“You have the option of putting that down and having dinner.”
“I’ll have dinner as soon as I leave.”
“Not if I catch you first.”
“You won’t.”
“You’re awfully confident.”
Jisung smiled. “Who’s the one with the gun?”
Minho let out a short sigh. “You have a point.”
“Exactly. Now, I’m low on patience.” Jisung set his leg forward. “Unlock it.”
Minho smirked.
A blur of movement, a hit on his leg, and Jisung’s back hit the floor hard. The gun slid across the tiles. Minho jumped to grab it.
Jisung swung his legs, catching Minho’s feet and sending him to the floor. He lurched for the gun. Minho kicked it out of his reach. Seconds later, Jisung was face down on the tile, his arm twisted painfully and a knee pushing into his back.
“Careful, if you struggle, your arm will snap,” Minho breathed.
Jisung growled in frustration. “Damn it, I really thought I had you.”
Minho made a sound similar to a laugh. “I’ve always been able to beat you, so don’t feel bad.”
“If you can beat me, anyone can.”
“That’s insulting to both you and I. Now, are you done being rebellious?”
“Yes, now get off so I can shoot you.”
A smile colored Minho’s voice as he responded, “Someone is upset about what happened with the Assembly.”
Jisung rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t care less about the Assembly. I’m tired of being locked up, I’m sure you could understand where I’m coming from.”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get away with this little stunt. You’re stuck here, accept it, be good, and I’ll let you up.”
“Okay, I’m stuck here forever and I will never try anything again.”
Minho was quiet for a moment. “Hm. Nope, I’m not convinced.” A drawer was opened and the crinkling sound of plastic soon followed. Then a package of zip-ties landed in front of Jisung’s face.
Jisung immediately tried wriggling free, but Minho’s hand pushed his head harder into the floor. “Minho-“
“Easy there, tiger, you don’t want to break your arm, now do you?”
“I’m gonna kill you,” Jisung promised as he felt the hard plastic of a zip-tie tighten around his wrists.
“Whatever makes you feel better.” Minho finally stood, pulling his prisoner up to sit against the counter. He then zip-tied his ankles together.
Jisung’s eyes could kill while Minho smiled at him and stood. “I hate you.”
“Stay.”
“I’ll pluck your eyes out with my needles and sew your mouth shut.”
Minho continued brewing Jisung’s tea. “Mhmm.”
“Drop you in a lake of acid and then run you over with a truck.”
“Creative.”
“Or I’ll carve out your organs one at a time and sell them on the black market.”
“Which one do you want?” Minho asked, holding up two boxes of tea.
Jisung looked away, glaring at the cabinets in front of him. If he didn’t non-verbal, he’d keep coming up with different ways to kill his captor, and he’d only make himself angrier by doing so.
“I guess I’ll just go with this one,” Minho muttered, tossing one of the boxes back to its place above the fridge. He moved about the kitchen for another several minutes as he made himself some food. When he was finished, he crouched in front of the fuming Jisung. “Your tea is up there. I left some food as well. You can go to bed once you get yourself free.”
Jisung’s mouth dropped in disbelief. “Do not leave me like this.”
Minho smiled and stood up.
“Minho.”
He strolled out of the kitchen.
“Minho!”
He laughed as he left the cursing captive behind.
⧫⧫⧫
Fingers sore and blood boiling, Jisung pushed the door of the other bedroom open, his eyes glowing with murderous intent.
Minho lowered the book he was reading as he lounged in the bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Oh, you’re free. You got out of that quicker than I expected.”
Jisung approached the bed, his fuming gaze unwavering.
“Did you eat?”
He still didn’t respond.
Minho sat up a bit more. “Don’t make me do that again, Jisung,” he warned, watching him warily. “I will without hesitation.”
Jisung stopped a foot away, eyes narrowed. “You left me there for two hours.”
“I expected you to be there all night.”
“That doesn’t help your case.”
“You’re free now, aren’t you?” Minho scanned him up and down, slowly. “I’m impressed.”
“And I’m ready to kill you.” Jisung’s body was rigid with restraint. He couldn’t beat Minho, he knew that now, so attacking him would be reckless and useless.
Minho smiled, closing his book. “Alright, but that can wait for tomorrow. You’re no longer in your suit, I’m assuming you’ve washed up.” He patted the spot next to him “Come on, it’s late.”
He must have been truly exhausted, because Jisung complied, getting into the bed without a word. This was the closest bed, that’s why he was doing this. “I’m doing this so I can wake up and kill you first thing tomorrow.”
“Of course.” Minho seemed much too satisfied with this arrangement. “I need to make sure you don’t try anything else anyway, so this works out.”
Jisung couldn’t help laughing slightly. “Right.” He fell back against the plush pillows, grateful for the size of the bed. There was at least two, if not three feet between him and Minho, and he had room to move if he wanted.
“Did those zip-ties at least tire you out? I know you have a hard time sleeping.”
“They did, but I’m still pissed. I’ll wring your neck in the morning when I have energy,” Jisung said, his eyes already closing.
Unbeknownst to Jisung, Minho’s heart was glowing as he looked down at him with warm eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Jisung’s body relaxed into the mattress as the pressure of the day seeped from his skin and out of his mind. The fire in his veins dwindled down as his mind began to drift in and out of consciousness. The presence next to him was oddly comforting, soft and warm like a blanket fresh from the dryer. He let that feeling flow into his arms as he fell asleep.
Beside him, Minho closed his eyes as he released a long-suffering breath. After all these years, Jisung was beside him once again. But the fear of losing him again clouded his mind, whispering uncertainties in his ears.
All the while, Jisung fell into a dream.
All Jisung saw was the small gray room. He was alone, but the single door opened a short time later and a bloodied Minho stumbled in, his jumpsuit torn and stained red. Jisung jumped up, reaching for him in worry, but he was stopped short by the chain attaching him to the opposite wall.
“Minho, are you okay?”
In response, Minho used his couch to push himself upright. “I’m okay. I should be asking you that anyway.”
Jisung glanced down to see his arms covered in cuts and bruises. “This is nothing. Why are they doing this? Why keep putting us together when they’re going to torture us for getting close?”
“Who knows. It’s probably another test of some sort.”
Jisung tensed when the door opened again, revealing two guards and the tall figure from his previous dreams. The person’s face was still unclear, like his mind was blocking them out on purpose. He backed away.
“JH-47, you’ve tampered with ML-32’s program, haven’t you?”
Jisung didn’t know what that meant, but he felt his blood run cold. His voiced locked up inside his throat.
“No need to try denying it, we already know everything.” The figure waved a finger at the two guards.
The brutes roughly grabbed Minho’s arms, dragging him to his feet. Minho’s face twisted in pain, but the expression vanished immediately. Jisung automatically reached forward, and then quickly caught himself.
“Unfortunately, there are consequences for such things.” The Blur flicked a black baton open, and electricity, hot and white, crackled to life along the length of it.
Fear glued Jisung’s feet in place.
The Blur whirled on Minho ramming the baton into his gut. Minho screamed.
“Stop!” Jisung’s own voice sounded foreign to him.
The Blur pulled back, and Minho sagged in the guards’ arms. “Are you willing to take this punishment instead?”
“Yes, I’ll do it, just leave him alone.”
The crackle of the electricity was the only sound in the room for a few tense heartbeats. “No.”
Minho’s body convulsed as the baton stabbed through his clothes again.
Desperation and hurt shook through Jisung’s body, winding around his heart and lungs. He fell to his knees, pulling against his chain as hard as he could. “Please stop! I’ll do anything, just stop hurting him! Please!”
“Not until you learn your lesson.”
Minho’s screams sank into Jisung’s bones and haunted his mind.
“Minho, I’m so sorry.” He felt a tear roll down his face. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
The screams stopped as The Blur finally stepped back. “Do you see now what must be done to keep this place running?”
Jisung couldn’t bring himself to look at Minho as the guards dropped him.
“Do you?!”
He flinched. “Yes.”
The Blur shoved their foot onto Minho’s head, pushing him down harshly. “Is this clear to you too, ML-32?”
Minho remained silent, his eyes emotionless, catching his breath.
“Apparently not.”
The baton swung at Jisung.
Jisung jolted awake, and panic gripped his mind as he realized he couldn’t breathe. Something warm was smothering him, and he pushed against it. Whatever was holding him released, and he stopped, finally registering that he was pushing against a chest. His gaze shot up, meeting Minho’s worried eyes.
“I’m sorry, you were shaking and distressed, I didn’t know how to help-” Minho stopped short upon Jisung hugging him back, pressing his forehead into his chest and closing his eyes.
Jisung didn’t understand exactly why he felt that way in the memory, but that fear for Minho was still painfully tight in his chest, and it was relieved with his presence. It felt as if nothing would make sense again, as if the dreams, the memories, would drag him down into a place he couldn’t escape.
“Jisung?” Minho spoke softly, gently touching the top of his head.
“Just sit here for a minute,” Jisung whispered, not yet trusting his voice. “Please.”
Minho heard the quiet request and slowly let his arms relax around him again. Weak morning light was beginning to filter through the windows as the pair remained where they were in bed. Distant thunder rumbled.
Jisung mentally counted to ten. Then again. He didn’t want to get up and face reality, and he sure as hell didn’t want to face Minho after cuddling into him. In fact, he wanted to disappear into a void and never return. Why am I still holding onto him? Why does he smell so good? Why does he have to run his hand over my hair like that? Am I enjoying this? Damn it, Jisung, get it together!
Before he could find a way to get up without making things unbelievably awkward, Minho spoke. “Did you have another dream?”
“Yeah, I remembered something new.” Jisung finally pulled away, sliding up so he was sitting against the pillows. He could feel heat radiating from his cheeks and he avoided glancing at the man next to him. “It was… more vivid than the others have been.” He didn’t bother telling him how he remembered his emotions in that moment unlike in the other dreams.
Minho ran his hand through his hair, moving his gaze to the ceiling. “I might know what you remembered. You mumbled in your sleep.”
“It’s been years, how would you know?” Jisung didn’t mean for the question to sound mocking, but it entered the room more harshly than he intended.
The look in Minho’s dark eyes was distant, yet shadowed. “I’ve never been able to forget those words: ‘Minho I’m so sorry.’ You said it over and over again that day. We both got a hell of a beating.
Haunting screams echoed in Jisung’s mind and he flinched. “Whatever I did to make that happen… I’m sorry.”
Minho’s eyes jerked to him. “Don’t say that. You had nothing to apologize for in the first place, and you don’t even remember what you did. Please don’t say that.”
Jisung looked away again. This was getting too real. He was getting in too deep, and these new, unknown emotions he was feeling were terrifying. “Alright, I won’t.”
“I’m sorry for snapping,” Minho said, pushing himself upright as well. “You said five words the last time I saw you, and two of those were ‘I’m sorry’. Hearing that come from you again just… hurts.”
Jisung’s eyes met Minho’s, and something passed between them. Understanding? Compassion? It was hard to pinpoint, but the tension in the room slackened. Another rumble of thunder brought Jisung back into focus.
“Thank you, by the way. The dreams have a bigger effect on me than I thought they would, and you being here helped.”
Minho smiled softly. “You’re welcome. I do understand how it is. All we knew was hell, so every memory you relive will reflect that.” He finally got out of bed. “I’ve got some things to do, so I’ll be busy for a few days,” he said, fixing the blankets on his side. “I’ll check in but I won’t be able to very much.”
Jisung nodded, knowing he was going to lose his mind being stuck in this house. He was going to have to find a way out of here, or at least find something productive to do. “I’ll be here. For now.”
Minho chuckled and ruffled Jisung’s hair. Jisung swatted his hand away. “I’ll be disappointed if I come back and you’re gone. You still owe me a fight over Bulgogi, after all.”
“As long as I don’t have to pay for the food, I’ll at least be there for that. I need to prove myself after last night’s disaster.”
“It wasn’t that bad, I just had an advantage over you.”
Jisung rolled his eyes. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I was the one with the advantage, I had a gun to your head, you had nothing.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t fight. You just can’t fight me.”
“Oh, that totally helps,” Jisung muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“It does help, actually. I was made to be a machine, so the fact that you can hold your own against me is impressive in itself.” Minho grabbed his phone from the night stand next to the bed and glanced at it. “I’ve gotta go before Seungmin kills me and takes my place. If I’m much later, he’ll be planning my downfall.”
Jisung wanted to ask Minho more questions now that he’d remembered something new, but that would have to wait. “Go before I decide to kill you for last night.”
Minho saluted him with two fingers. “I’m off once I get dressed. I had a TV installed in the living room while we were at the Assembly, so you’ll have some form of entertainment, at least.”
“Minho.”
“I’m going.”
Jisung chuckled as the other ran out of the room. Sometimes it was hard to believe Minho was a powerful mafia don that killed and controlled people without a second thought. He just seemed so… human. He could almost picture him as a normal guy that paid his bills, did his laundry, and worked a boring job. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He wasn’t a machine, as he called himself, and that was comforting.
————————– Anotha one down. This story is completely done, but as I’m writing it down here again, my brain is telling me to add more scenes cause who doesn’t love a lot of cute scenes in a romance book?? Anyway, I’ll probably end up doing that but hopefully I can fit new scenes in smoothly so y’all can’t tell a difference. Thanks for reading. ^u^
Comment