Feathers And Carnations Chapter Thirteen

“Alright, you wanna be like that?” Seungmin slapped a card onto the table. “Take this.”

Minho groaned, and Jisung glared at the card now face up on the table. “How long have you been holding onto that?”

Seungmin grinned lazily. “I’ve had it since we started.”

“I may have you demoted,” Minho grumbled, drawing a few cards from the thinning pile in the center of the gaming table.

“You’re just salty that I’m winning.”

The three of them were playing a game they invented that was a cross between Uno and something new altogether. It was a chaotic, confusing game, but it was fun nonetheless.

After a deal with Solswor went south, they took a step back from their plans with the mafia to lie low for a time and continue only small operations. With less to do, Seungmin and Minho were at the house for a good chunk of the day, and over the last two and half weeks of doing the same things, the three of them invented this game that Jisung decided to call ‘Rage Inducer’. At the moment, Minho was a testament to the name.

“I swear you two are against me.”

Jisung chuckled. “We are, you were a beast last time.”

Minho smirked.

Seungmin slapped his hand over his boss’ mouth. “Please don’t flirt while I’m sitting right here.”

“Are you not already used to it?” Jisung asked as he took his turn. Over the weeks, it became a joke that Minho turned everything into something dirty like a twelve year-old, and he’d taken it very seriously. Jisung didn’t really consider it flirting, but he had to admit there were a few times he got flustered. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. Seungmin wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.

Minho’s gaze moved to Jisung. “If I decided to truly flirt with you, Jisung, you would know it, and you wouldn’t be able to resist it.”

Jisung willed himself not to blush. He wasn’t entirely sure what changed over the past few days, but he found himself reacting to Minho in ways he wasn’t used to. He hadn’t really noticed a change until he ran into Minho the other day, who was only wearing a towel after getting out of a shower. He’d gone red and lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. After that, he questioned why he reacted in such a way, and now every time he caught the don staring at him, his heart raced.

“I doubt that, Minho.”

Seungmin dropped another card. “I believe that’s the game, gentlemen.”

Minho tsked, tossing his remaining cards down. “I should have known it would turn out this way. You were so smug the whole time.”

“That’s because he decided to cheat before we even started,” Jisung added to the argument.

“You’re just a bunch of sore losers. Now which loser is going to make me dinner?”

“Jisung would love to,” Minho offered, smiling at the mentioned loser in a subtly threatening way.

“Excuse you, this dead man can’t waste precious energy wandering a kitchen for an hour.” Jisung kicked Minho’s foot in emphasis.

“You’re pulling that excuse again?”

“Hello, I’ve fainted several times in the past few weeks.”

Seungmin nodded. “He’s got a point there, bossman.”

“And Soo would probably kill us both,” Jisung added.

Minho’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head. “Yeah, you’re definitely teamed up against me. Do I need to prepare for a mutiny?”

Jisung leaned over to Seungmin. “He’s being nerdy again,” he whispered, his voice still loud enough for Minho to hear.

“I thought you were into nerds.” Minho got to his feet, feigning angry disappointment as he left the lounge.

Seungmin shook his head and began gathering the cards spread all over the table. “You two are fascinating to watch.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung asked, stretching his arms out behind him.

“You’ve got this little dance, where you both avoid getting too close in every sense of the word, but it’s like the dance steps do the opposite. Ever since you actually became a guest rather than a prisoner, it’s like…”

Jisung waited. “Like?”

“Nevermind. I wouldn’t know how to describe it anyway.” Once the game was cleaned up, Seungmin relaxed back in his seat, studying the other man sitting at the game table. “I can tell there’s a bit of tension between the two of you. I know the trust between you is still fairly fresh and new, but it also seems a bit… fragile.”

Jisung couldn’t argue otherwise. It was true. On the surface, he and Minho interacted the same way, if not better, than when he was still considered a captive. But underneath it all, they tiptoed around each other, wondering if they would have to take their trust back. It didn’t help that they hadn’t talked about the situation since he asked to visit Nightfield.

“It is fragile.”

“I think you need to talk about it. The balance of it all isn’t going to last if he’s constantly afraid of you running off and if you’re afraid of him locking you up again.”

Jisung picked at his nails. “That’s the thing, I don’t know how to go about it all. I either chicken out before even approaching him or he avoids me like the topic is taboo. I feel like I need to solidify my trust through actions.”

Seungmin brightened up at that. “They do say actions speak louder than words. Minho didn’t completely trust me until I gave him the code to the vault where I keep everything I’ve stolen over my career. Of course I did that to save his life when he was cornered, but still.”

“So I have to wait for a life or death situation?” Jisung asked flatly.

“No, no, what I mean is, show him you can be trusted in the way he’s questioning.”

“That didn’t make sense.”

Seungmin waved his hands. “Let me try again. See, if he was worried that you would randomly decide to kill him, I would suggest saving his life or something to that effect. In this case, he’s afraid you’ll get up and leave.”

Jisung drooped. “I’ve been staying for weeks. If that hasn’t proved anything, I don’t know what will.”

For a long moment, the underboss went quiet as his mind went to work trying to figure out this little dilemma. Then he snapped his fingers. “I think you need more freedom. If you leave for a short while and come back, I think that could really say a lot.”

“He won’t let me near a set of car keys.”

“Well that’s not very trusting, is it?” Seungmin got to his feet. “I have a few things to take care of before dinner. I don’t really know what else to tell you, sorry, Han. Think it over, and I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

“That’s helpful,” Jisung muttered as the underboss left. He really wasn’t sure what to do. Trusting Lee Minho was something he never thought he’d do, and here he was, worrying about strengthening that bridge. It was strange, but he didn’t mind it. Aside from straight up capturing him, Minho was very good to him. He was caring and silly, gentle and bold.

Of course, Jisung still had his doubts. He wondered if he had Stockholm Syndrome, he wondered if he was letting the past affect how he was feeling. And if it was neither of those, what could that mean? He couldn’t possibly, actually like him like he thought a few weeks ago. No. That wasn’t even worth considering in this situation. Jisung could admit he had slowly become friends with Minho. They shared a sense of humor and a love for their work. Their conversations could range from silly to serious, and they were comfortable to exist around each other quietly. But… there was nothing beyond that.

Jisung got up after a time and made his way into the kitchen. The world briefly swirled around the edges as he walked, but the swirls faded away fairly quickly just as they always did over the weeks. For the most part, he’d regained his strength, but the dizzy and fainting spells had yet to disappear. He leaned a shoulder against the entryway of the kitchen and admired the sight in front of him.

Minho was hovering over the stove, the sleeves of his navy blue button-up rolled to his elbows and his dark hair pushed back. His head was tilted in concentration as he sprinkled something in one of the pans sizzling on the stove. It wasn’t fair how handsome he was. The word handsome couldn’t even cover it.

The side of Minho’s mouth quirked. “Enjoying the view, Jisung?”

Damn it. Bad Jisung.

“I can’t help but appreciate art when it’s displayed so well.”

“So you do get it.”

“Get what?”

Minho glanced back at him. “Yesterday you asked why you catch me looking at you all the time. I said you wouldn’t get it, and you agreed.”

Jisung’s cheeks grew a shade darker, annoyingly enough. “Are you calling me art?”

“If I said no, I’d be lying.”

“What would the world think if I announced that Lee Minho is nothing more than a huge flirt?”

“The world would be jealous.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow, pointing at himself. “Jealous of me?”

“No, jealous of me.” Minho’s dark eyes traveled over Jisung slowly, lingering on his face. “I mean, look at you. You’re something to behold.”

Heart, stop beating so hard, he didn’t even say anything. “Are you sleep deprived?”

Minho let out a short laugh. “You’re supposed to say thank you.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me.”

“So what does?”

Jisung sensed he was falling into a trap of some sort, but he couldn’t say what sort of trap was laid below him. He decided to proceed with caution. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Minho turned away from the food completely now. “I would like to,” he said, slowly approaching. “We could test a few things, and then we’ll both know what works for you.”

Seungmin abruptly shattered the carefully laid trap as he ran into the kitchen. “Our guys just caught a member of Solswor trying to break into one of our warehouses.”

Minho sighed. “Doesn’t surprise me. Have them brought here and I’ll have a chat with them. We’re no longer going to consider working with Solswor, they’ve been nothing but a pain.”

“Yes sir.” Seungmin left the room once again.

“I’m surprised you even tried anything with Solswor,” Jisung said, watching Minho make his way back to the stove. “They’ve always been so full of it.”

“I’m trying to work with as many groups as I can and that includes the troublesome ones. However, I have a lack of patience. If they want me as an enemy, they’ll get what they want.”

Jisung went quiet, considering what he learned over the past few months. He sat himself on a stool at the kitchen island. “You’re going after Chimera, aren’t you?”

Minho continued cooking, his body relaxed. “I should have known you’d figure it out.”

“Chimera is huge, how are you going to be able to do anything to them?”

“I’ve been working toward this for years, Jisung. I’m taking my time and I’m being careful.”

Everything clicked into place like gears of a newly working clock. Minho had worked for years to become the powerful mafia don he was today. He had money, men, weapons, and influence. At the Assembly, he began the process of growing his strength further by working with the mafia. He was gathering an army.

“Lee Minho, you are crazy.”

“What?” he asked casually. “I thought you already knew that.”

Jisung pointed at him. “You’re creating an army to take Chimera down, aren’t you?”

Minho’s knowing smirk gave him away. “Maybe.”

“Is that going to be possible?”

“I’m going to make it possible.” Minho turned the stove off and faced Jisung, bracing his hands on the counter. “Since I escaped, my goal has always been to tear them down. It’s what I’ve worked towards since the moment I met you seven years ago. Losing you only fueled that fire.”

Jisung regarded him carefully. “So you’ve declared war.”

“Chimera will know it soon enough.”

“Minho, don’t you think that’s… I don’t know, crazy and dangerous? Not just for you, but for the country, the world, even?”

“Chimera doesn’t work in official capacity, so this will all be happening underground, so to speak. Even if that wasn’t the case, I would still go through with this. Chimera is a poison seeping into the world, and it’s spreading. If I don’t stop this spread, no one will.”

Jisung couldn’t help admiring the conviction. “So this is more than revenge.”

“It wasn’t a plan of revenge until they killed you. Revenge was just added to my reasons for taking them down.”

The ribbons that had stopped Jisung from leaving hugged around him tighter, pulling him closer to Minho. He’s doing this for the world, not just for himself. “That’s really noble, Minho,” he said, voice quiet.

Minho softly scoffed. “No, it isn’t. I’m just a monster willing to destroy its creator.”

“A monster wouldn’t care about the world so much.”

“This world is shit, I don’t care about it.”

Jisung reached over, setting his hand over Minho’s. “The world is shit, you’re not wrong about that. Everywhere you go there are terrible people doing terrible things. Death and poverty walk the streets and stroll into homes, corrupting some and draining others. But there’s so much more than that. There’s laughter when you walk past a park, there’s music expressing emotions people can’t seem to express. Some people save lives every day while others merely bring joy to those around them.

“It’s like when you walk past a crumbling, abandoned building. You see remnants of what it used to be, cracked walls and faded paint. And it’s sad. But when you look closely, you’ll see green vines and little flowers taking over and sealing those cracks. It makes you realize that life and goodness can still come from what you see as a crumbling mess.”

Minho’s dark brown eyes were glued to Jisung, his body still as he listened intently. Soft thoughts and swaying emotions swirled in his eyes. Then he slowly smiled. “Han Jisung, the poet.”

Jisung smiled, shaking his head. “All I’m saying is that you don’t care about the dark things of the world, but you care about everything else. Do not call yourself a monster or a machine, okay?”

Minho returned the soft smile. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Now should I tell Seungmin dinner is ready?”

⧫⧫⧫

It hit Jisung two days later. Minho had graciously allowed him to question the Solswor prisoner, and as he was cleaning his needles afterward, he figured out a way to strengthen the trust between himself and the mafia don. No matter what day it was or how either of them were feeling, Minho showed him the utmost care. From the smallest things like making sure Jisung had enough water during a meal, to giving him everything he could need every time he fainted.

I need to show that I care about him.

After thanking Minho’s cleaners, Jisung ran out of the unfinished basement in search of Seungmin. As he reached the top of the stairs, he had to stop and close his eyes to avoid fainting on the spot. Once his head was no longer full of static, he continued his search and eventually found the underboss in his office on the second floor.

“How did the interrogation go?” Seungmin asked as if Jisung hadn’t thrown the door open dramatically.

“Well enough, I wrote all the information you needed in that folder you gave me.”

“Good, I’m impressed you were able to get everything out of him.”

Jisung grinned. “That guy was easy. I only had to use two needles.”

Seungmin shuddered. “That’s brutal.”

“Anyway,” Jisung dragged out, getting back on track, “that’s not what I’m here for. I think I found a way to solidify Minho’s trust in me.”

“That’s great!”

“It is. So I’m here to ask if I can leave for a few hours to get some things.”

Seungmin shrugged, getting to his feet. “You don’t have to ask me. Or anyone, for that matter. But Minho isn’t here right now and he might lose his head if he sees you gone when he comes back.”

“That’s what I need you for.”

“I’m not going to be a sacrifice. Angry Minho is a scary Minho.”

Jisung laughed. “No, I’m not going to sacrifice you. I just need you to be here when he gets back to let him know that I’ll be back soon. Communication is important when it comes to trust, and since I don’t have a phone to text him, I need you to deliver the message for me.”

Seungmin let out a dramatically long sigh. “An underboss being a messenger boy. Fine. I’ll let him know before he’s even in the house. But if I die, I will haunt you until you lose your mind.”

“Deal.” Jisung ran out of the office.

“Don’t take the Jag, that’s mine!” Seungmin hollered.

Jisung was tempted to take said car just to be spiteful, but he went with the most practical car available, the Aston Martin. It was one of the nicest cars Jisung had ever driven, and he wondered if he would be able to convince Minho to let him keep it.

For the first time in months, Jisung felt the freedom of going off on his own. He went on a drive with Seungmin a week prior, but this was different. He had complete control over where he could go and what he could do. He was a little tempted to go see Changbin and the others, but they were set to meet in four days, and the whole point of this trip was to show Minho that he could be trusted.

He rolled the windows down and enjoyed the late summer wind as it ruffled his shaggy, black hair. Normally he kept his hair a bit shorter, but he didn’t mind its current state. He took his time running his little errand, taking the long way around any time there was an option. Minho’s house was ages away.

Jisung soaked in the feeling of normalcy as he gathered the ingredients for a dish Seungmin had apparently made up for Minho. He’d learned that it was the don’s favorite, so he was going to make it for him. A few days later he learned that Minho had a love for strawberry desserts.

Once all the ingredients were bought, Jisung wandered a few other little shops, on the lookout for a gift. He wasn’t sure what to get Minho, but he hoped he could find something that drew his attention. He was about to give up on the whole idea when he found something that felt right. After the shop owner explained what it meant, he bought it and headed back.

By the time Jisung pulled up to the house, the sun was on its way down. As he hauled the last remaining bags inside, Seungmin came speeding around the corner, car keys in hand.

“Good luck,” was all he said before rushing out the door.

“Wh-“

“Jisung!” Minho’s voice thundered through the house.

Oh, I’m screwed. Jisung hurried toward the kitchen, but he didn’t make it all the way there. Minho appeared in the hall in front of him, the jacket of his suit gone and his tie hanging untied around his neck. Angry Minho is hot, not scary. “Oh, hi Minho.”

Minho advanced on him. “You scared the hell out of me, how could you leave without some sort of protection?”

Jisung stiffened up. “I can protect myself just fine, thank you very much.”

“You can’t just up and leave like that!”

Why am I so attracted to this?

Jisung brought his voice up to Minho’s. “Yes I can, that’s the whole point of our agreement! And I told you I would be back through Seungmin, so you have no reason to be pissed at me!”

“I’m pissed that I got scared!” Minho shouted, still moving closer to him. “Why did you even leave?!”

Jisung aggressively pointed through the doorway of the kitchen as he started backing up to make up for Minho’s steps. “I was going to make your favorite food, and I even got you a gift, you loud brute!”

Minho was backing him into a corner. “You got all that for me?!”

“Yes I did!”

Minho’s eyes flicked down to Jisung’s mouth. “Why?!”

A fire was building between them.

“Because I care about you!”

“I could kiss you!”

“Please do!”

Minho’s hand wrapped around the back of Jisung’s neck as their lips crashed together, tugging their bodies close. Jisung dropped the bags. The fire between them was a raging inferno as his hands dove into Minho’s hair. His mind raced to catch up on what was happening, but it was only filled with the feeling of Minho’s touch.

Jisung’s back hit the wall and he lightly gasped, allowing Minho room to deepen the kiss. His touch was gentle but demanding, the hand on his neck keeping Jisung under control while his other hand burned into his waist. 

Jisung tightened his hold on Minho’s hair, tugging it back slightly to regain some semblance of control. The hand on the back of his neck suddenly moved to the base of his throat and pushed him back into the wall.

“Brat,” Minho growled.

“Brute,” Jisung breathed.

Their lips met again, the intensity of it steadily growing until Jisung wasn’t sure if he could ever breathe again. Minho was sweet and addicting, his touch even moreso.

Minho finally pulled back, smirking as his fingers flexed on Jisung’s pulse point. “Easy there, love, we can’t have you fainting on me.”

Jisung fought to get his breathing under control. “If you didn’t suffocate me, we wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“At least you’re breathing.” His fingers tightened ever so slightly in emphasis.

Despite his face already being on fire, Jisung somehow blushed a shade deeper. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Minho’s eyebrows twitched in amusement. “You’re awfully bold today.”

“And your bipolar ass is giving me whiplash. Are you angry with me or not?”

“You really are a brat,” Minho murmured, running his thumb over Jisung’s bottom lip, his eyes tracing the movement.

Jisung felt as if he was going to combust at any moment. I let the moment take over. Shit. I basically just admitted defeat to Lee Minho, but damn if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. “I’m sorry for not giving you more warning about leaving,” he finally said, deciding to move on. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Minho smiled, slowly stepping back. “And I’m sorry for blowing up.”

“You know, I think we both needed a good screaming session,” Jisung admitted, bending to pick up the dropped bags.

“I could give you that.”

Jisung’s never ending blush gained more color. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You kind of did.”

Jisung straightened up and pulled the gift out of one of the bags. “Here, I wasn’t really sure what to get.”

Minho took the small box like he was handling a baby bird, his shoulders relaxing as his body lost its tension. “Jisung-“

“Just open it.”

He dipped his head in apology and lifted the lid. Inside was a thin, leather bracelet with a small metal band holding it together. A carnation was carved into the metal. Minho’s gaze softened.

“Um, the shop owner said that carnations represent remembrance and admiration. I, uh, thought it fit since you’ve helped me with my memories and… stuff.” Jisung didn’t know why he was feeling so unsure now, but that disappeared the moment Minho grinned.

His eyes were wet as he looked at Jisung. “Thank you, Jisung. This means a lot.”

Jisung’s heart swelled. “You’re welcome, Minho.”

Minho slipped the bracelet on. “Let me help you with the food since I yelled at you like an ass.”

Jisung laughed. “Okay, I won’t complain about getting help. Thank you.”

———————- My only note to myself while I was writing this chapter was “angry/sudden intense smooch ;)” which I find kinda funny. Angry kisses are the best, so I had to stick one in here. Anyway, yay! Some Minsung progress, hell yeah. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading <(⧫_⧫)>