[Super]Hot À† Minsung 16 ; Clinical Trial .ᐟˎˊ˗

His consciousness crawled back to him.

Jarring pats reverberating in his head forcing an opening for him to slip back awake as someone’s hand kept tapping his cheek.

“Are you awake yet?” A voice wondered. Warbled, and distant away from him, as if they were standing on the opposite side of a drowned-out cavern. Yet close to him. He knew that much. He assumed they were the person who was rapidly patting his cheek too.

Regaining his bearings from the fuzziness hovering inside of his body, Minho forced his head to lull. Jostling a few times as his neck strained itself in its limp uncooperative state, before finally he managed to flop his head back instead. He wanted to push the person away from him too, the faint glimpses of his memory warning him whoever this man was must’ve been the person who gassed him.

But even if his fingers began to respond to him, and the feeling in his numbed arms gradually returned to an alert state, he couldn’t move his arms even if he pulled on them. Something sticky, and tough kept his wrists glued together as it handed around them, his elbows together too as much as his inflexible shoulders bent that way behind him. It might’ve been restraining his breathing as his lungs inhaled the freshest air he had ever breathed, and the few coughs that rattled him as they pushed whatever particles clung to him out. Sitting, was he sitting down? An office chair? It seemed to have a squishy backing that melted to his spine, and it seemed to move underneath him as if he was being rocked too.

Reluctantly, Minho peered his eyes opened.

First flashbanged by the obnoxiously bright strips of LED lights in a sterile ceiling, the bright bulbs grating sandpaper on his gaze attempting to readjust to his surroundings. His neck didn’t seem quite strong enough to sustain his head upright quite yet, so he glanced to the corner of his eyes, seeing as much as he was able to; A few desks here and there, cubicles around them in an unoccupied working space left by the office workers abandoning their tasks behind once their time was done, a friendly plant framing the steel doorway oblivious to what was happening within the walls, not much else he could see yet. So he flopped his head down to check his own state. Duct tape that wrapped a few times around his chest to keep him down, though his own lethargic body was enough to keep in the desk chair, he couldn’t feel his pistol or his knife in their holsters anymoreー

“There you are!” The man with him, and it certainly was the man that released the gas at him in the hallway minutes before, the sneaker he set on the edge of Minho’s chair shifting him back. And forth. Back. And forth. Back. And forth. The wheels of the desk chair scraping against the ground as it attempted to move but couldn’t. He seemed to be sitting atop one of the unoccupied desks, the propped altitude allowing him the ease to smack Minho’s face as he liked, spin his chair as he liked, or in the newest case, grab a fistful of Minho’s hair as he liked, to force the bounty hunter’s eyes off of their wandering, “That was a mixture of xenon, halothane, and some oxygen, standard anesthetics. Don’t worry. I’m not interested in killing you. Not yet. There shouldn’t be any lingering effects in you once you’re awake.”

The bounty hunter blinked a few times, forcing his tongue to start functioning again to question him, “Where…”

“We didn’t move. Same building,” At this proximity, Minho noted the man had faint freckles spotted along his cheeks. Not that, that particular tidbit of information would help him at all in his current situation, but he noted it anyway. The blond man let go of his hair, his head almost immediately flopping back down without the support. Though the sneaker pressed into his chair left him, and the faint rummaging of the man in the backpack propped by his side occupied his weakened hearing instead, “You just happened to be following some friends of mine while I was here meeting with an acquaintance, and that means you’re after something. So! I have something I’d like to show you!”

Inside of his chest, his heart lurched with a fresh sense of nervousness as he forced his head up to watch the other rummaging in his bag, “W…what…”

From the compartment, the blond man produced a small, transparent glass vial that sloshed with a clear liquid showing off to Minho, “Ta-Da! How lucky you are!”

A label wrapped around the little glass vial. Though he couldn’t read the specifics of the miniscule text in the other’s hand, the logo of Athanasia Laboratories and a string of numbers as a title across the top was enough to perk his conciousness up.

If not that alone, the syringe the man produced from another pocket of his bag was enough to clap him back to reality.

Minho willed his head to stay upright, taking in the details of the man sat on the desk happily swinging his legs back and forth as if he was in his own bubble of existence. Neat officeworker uniform of black slacks and a blue button up. Bleached blond hair unnatural and split on the dead ends, dark black roots that began to grow through. Big, round glasses that concealed his features behind a geeky innocence. Sparkling eyes like a feline’s hunting down it’s next prey. Freckles splashed across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. A vial of a clear solution plastered with a label from the laboratories. A medical syringe. He’s sure the jacket folded up underneath his bag looked like a lab coat. Hesitantly, Minho spoke up as he busied his hands with subtly trying to work the duct tape around his wrists loose, “What… did you say your name was?”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, where are my manners. I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. It’s nice to meet you officially; My name is Dr. Lee,” As his hands busied themselves with popping the cap of the clear vial off and drawing fresh air into the syringe, Dr. Lee slowly raised from his seat atop the desk,  “Dr. Lee Felix. Athanasia Laboratories’ Assistant Director of Clinical Trials, Dr. Lee Felix. But, my friends, they call me Pixie for short. You, however, can call me Dr. Lee.”

The bounty hunter watched with growing terror as the doctor stabbed the syringe into the vial. Inverting them as he pushed air into the vial.

Leaning down ever so slightly until Minho had to tiptoe himself back in the office chair to not be brushed by the blond strands of hair towering over him with a nauseating grin brimming with friendliness. Pulling the substance inside of the vial into the syringe, Minho tried to tug again at the restraints keeping him stamped onto the desk chair. He seemed qualified enough to be a doctor, following the proper steps to draw up the medication, but that wasn’t exactly anything Minho was concerned about considering the situation, “Because of you blatantly stalking a few of my researchers, I’m behind on a very important deadline for this medication. So, as retribution, you wouldn’t mind being my guinea pig while we wait, would you?”

By now, Minho was sobered and entirely alert, “UHー”

“Now make sure to relax, breathe, and stay very still for me,” Despite the welcoming grin the other had on his face, the hand that grabbed a fistful of Minho’s hair and yanked his head backwards to bear his neck was anything but naive and friendly. The closeness of the syringe inching closer to his jugular vein even less so.

THIS FUCKER IS CRAZY.

With his limited range of mobility, Minho strained to buck the heavy weight of his boots into Dr. Lee’s gut.

While it did knock the deranged doctor away from him, nearly tripping him as he slammed into the desk and lost his grip on the syringe, the force of the kick sent Minho flying in his chair too. The wheels scraping up against the cheap carpet before giving up and sending him onto the floor too.

Minho wiggled himself, painfully inching awkwardly across the floor to hobble away from the other groaning as he regained his senses.

Quickly!

Behind his back, he kept twisting at the duct tape around his wrists beginning to lose their clutch on him, the tape around his elbows stubbornly staying fast, but if he could worm the band around his chest loose…!

Before he could, Dr. Lee was upon him again. Even if he tried to kick his legs out at the doctor’s shins, even if he thrashed to be released from the chair, even if he tried to hit the doctor with the wheels on the end of the chair legs, he was rendered immobile once more as Dr. Lee held his head down.

Without a syringe, but a lethal instinct to his eyes as his lips pressed firmly together.

Without a syringe, but with Minho’s abducted tactical knife clutched tightly in his hand.

Without a flicker of the friendless he had before, but with a violent intent to his utter, “You’re annoying….”

[A/N: First time I’ve written Felix as a crazy yandere bitch 😭 He’s always soft and sweet]

With a sharp cry of desperation, he swung his leg to kick again at the doctor in one last attempt to protect himself.

And then, it stopped.

As if the whole scenario had been some twisted prank pulled on him because he was too eager, a light switch seemingly flipped on and off in a contrast as potent as night and day. In Dr. Lee’s clasp releasing from holding the side of his head down as he stood up, the tactical knife in his limp fingers thumping against the floor as the heavy weight laid in surrender with Minho, and the reversal of that doctor’s grin returning to the welcoming one he had seen moments before any of this began. As if it had all been some hidden camera or set up skit played out before, Dr. Lee discarded the thought of stabbing Minho without a second care for the bounty hunter. The door to the office space was rammed open before he could.

And none other than Jisung, his hands grasping at the stun gun prepped for usage, had barged in. His arms up, cocked and loaded, a stance that had him slowing in his step as it announced he was prepared to engage in any fight thrown at him. Even if the guitar case and the backpack stacked on top of his back caused him to move sluggishly.

Immediately, his gaze locked with Minho’s.

Though he could piece together the scene in front of him; Minho flopped over as he was duct taped miserably to the tipped over desk chair, a broken syringe crunched into the cheap carpet floor, the bounty hunter’s pistol on a desk beside a recognizable backpack and lab coat, the tactical knife that Felix dropped on the floor. If he could coax Felix away from Minho, he could lunge for the pistol on the desk, then use that to threaten him until he can cut Minho free, if he could convince him away. Though he didn’t really need to try at all, Felix immediately lighting up with the power of a thousand volts once that frayed and frenzied gaze landed on him,  “Jisungie~ I’ve been waiting for you. It’s so good to see you again! You look so healthy~!”

“Get away from him,” Jisung hovered his fingers over the taser’s button, his clutch tensing up as that voice alone was enough to jolt shivers through his spine.

Lee Felix. A maniac with a PhD in pharmacology, and a twisted love for chemical warfare, what was at first a personality hire in the labs for Athanasia Laboratories turned into unexpected promotion after promotion. Unexpected genius, but a fucking lunatic. Also, Jisung’s ex. That poisoned him. Multiple times… So no he wasn’t particularly eager to see him…

“Noooo, Jisungie~ Don’t be mad at me! I just couldn’t help myself…. You’re still so cute and it’s been so long….” Felix’s claw-like fingers at his his arms, as if he was attempting to hug himself in attempts to comfort himself. Or an attempt to restrain himself, as if his grip was the straps of a straight jacket keeping him tightly bundled up. His gaze that chased patterns across the hitman was as delirious as he remembered, the timid upturn of his chapped lips even worse, and Jisung anticipated that window of a moment he would have to dash toward Minho and escape with him. Yet Felix ignored the poor man shrinking away on the floor, merely stepping over him casually as he walked elsewhere in the room, “So, now that I’ve captured your new boytoy, will you tell me why you’re poking your nose into business that isn’t yours again? It has to do with that fucker, Seo Changbin, doesn’t it? Why don’t you settle in then? I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

Felix stopped in his tracks.

Sheepishly turning to Jisung to add in, “Without chlorine this time. Promise. We can talk like adults, can’t we?”

Although he wished for anything other than to agree, Felix did mention Seo Changbin. Did he know something? He must, considering the deranged man worked for the very laboratories that Seo whistleblowed on, as he assumed, Felix must’ve been close to the epicenter of this whole situation’s erruption. Though, he much rather would’ve preferred to avoid Dr. Lee at all costs. With his clasp still holding onto the sides of the taser for his life, he gave Felix a swift nod of an answer. While the other took his response as some sort of verification of cooperating for at least the next five minutes, carelessly turning his back to sneak out of the office space into a break room (Most likely to grab a cup of coffee to chat over), Jisung pressed off from his spot. Dashing to Minho’a side before he could be stopped and grabbing up the tactical knife to slice apart the duct tape.

Truthfully, he seemed a bit cute like this; Subtly wide eyes , glancing to Jisung for a hint of reassurance, struggling against the restraints keeping him down in these pathetically awkward wiggles, as if he was more concerned about Jisung than himself  in this situation. To top it all off, his bewildered hiss of, “WHAT! Chlorineー?!”

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t entirely normal to think that way either.

“Long story. I’ll tell you another time,” Jisung brushed his question off, busying himself with cutting Minho free from the tape as he yanked the blade of the knife backward.

Freeing him took a few minutes, but as soon as Minho’s arms had been released from their uncomfortable position and he had been uncaged from the binds across his chest, once Jisung offered a hand to him and helped him stand up off the floor, the bounty hunter immediately collected his pistol from the desk. Checking his weapon was still loaded with the golden bullets, he then racked one of the cartridges into the chamber. Safely flipped off. A weariness to him that Jisung only noted in the shaking of his usually stable hands and the uneven intake of his inhales.

“Years of experience”, Mr. Bounty Hunter.

Without thinking too much about it, he grabbed the top of the pistol and pushed it downward until its barrel faced the ground.

But someone cornering you like this must be foreign to you.

Until Minho faced Jisung, and he could talk him down, “Calm down. Don’t holster your pistol yet, but you’re too worked up. Calm down before you shoot one of us.”

You’re not part of or familiar with the undercity, are you?

After a beat,

Your heart is softer than I thought it would be.

Minho sucked in a sharp breath. He didn’t give an answer back. But he flipped the safety of his pistol back on. Steadying himself, he started to control his breathing again.

Felix did come back from the break room. Casually. With only one coffee. In one of those degradable cardboard cork coffee mugs that fell apart the longer they were in contact with a scalding hot liquid until they left chunks of cardboard in your throat every time you swallowed. But Dr. Lee seemed pleased enough with his singular cup of coffee. Almost oblivious to the stares he was given, or perhaps he didn’t care at all. What Jisung knew about Felix he assumed it to be the second reason. Even if they kept a distance, even if he stood between Felix and Minho just in case the doctor thought about trying something, even if he knew Minho had his pistol ready and he had the knife as well as the taser strapped around his wrist, even if Felix puffed his cheeks out and tucked his chapped lips in while he plopped down backwards on a chair to talk, that unsettling quality that forced Jisung to stay on guard never left him.

While Felix sipped away at his coffee, the hitman started first, “Do your laboratories have anything to do with Seo’s kidnapping?”

“I wish. Because then… Then I could get my hands on that fucker, and gouge his damn eyes out for what he’s done. He worked with me these last few months of his internship, grew close to me, and betrayed me. All of my hard work is gone because of him and his self-righteous moral bullshit, some hero complex that feels he needs to help a minor good,” Felix hummed his answer. More attentive to the steam pouring off of his freshly made cup than the two posing a visible threat to him. More focused on the glare he sent through  the surface of the coffee and through to the floors below, Jisung was certain if looks could kill then that coffee would’ve been brutally ripped apart. His fingers flexed and his nails dug into the sides of the cup as he spat venom, “I would make that fucker suffer if I had my hands on him. If I could track him down…”

Again, as if a light switch inside of him was flipped on and off. On and off. One moment, on, borderline animalistic in her personality, as if he would lunge from that chair and dig his fangs into their juglar veins to rip them out; The next, off, a bubbly, illuminating smile that showed off his gums and the crescent upturn of his eyes when he glanced back up to him, the loosening of his hands as he took another sip from his coffee, the rocking weight of his feet pendulum swinging his chair back. And forth. Back. And forth. Back. And forth. An idle, placating motion to keep himself content most likely, while he slumped down in the curve of his shoulders and cuddled himself around his piping hot cup of coffee, “Anyway, no. It’s not me. I haven’t had any success. But then I realized! Oh! Jisungie is snooping around again, he must be looking for someone! He might be after Seo too!”

“But do you have any leads on who might’ve taken him? Someone who had a grudge from the laboratory, or anyone outside of work that might have targeted him after the whistleblow?” Jisung pressed him. The grip he had on his taser flexing, tightening, then readjusting to loosen the knots growing in his knuckles. Having a normal conversation with Felix was almost, comical. In a sense. Considering when they were together, half of their conversations revolved around heated discussions or whether or not the blond was attempting murder on him again. Even if that “normal conversation” was under anything other than normal circumstances, with anything other than a normal topic to discuss.

“Oh, mhm. I have some assumptions. Not anyone he knew personally, Changbin was the asocial loner type. Good person. Liked games. Didn’t go to parties or clubs. Righteous. Annoying. This was my thought process: In this city, there are three names to keep your eyes out for in what we like to call the underside,” The doctor released one of his hands from around his crappy recyclable coffee mug. Back. And forth. Back. And forth. Swaying in the desk chair, like they were a cluster of school girls talking about their crushes. Swaying, his chest flushed against the back cushioning. Felix lifted his hand, three fingers lifted up and the rest folded over, “My first assumption, was the lovely, super hot marksman they call PO3. A calculated sniper, who is only in the game for the money. So, you. But, clearly, you don’t know where he went.”

Felix put a finger down.

“The next, is his boss. Cygne. A hedonistic man, who prefers to live a luxurious lifestyle. He keeps an eye on every working in the city. Every rumor, every hit, every bounty, he knows.”

“Seungmin,” Jisung filled in.

“Bingo! Correct. But, you realllllyyyy know where he is. I mean, you’ve got your cute little boytoy, and you’re wandering these types of places, strip clubs and the like, to get answers. If you’re that desperate, then Seungmin doesn’t have a clue of where to start either.”

Another finger down. One remaining.

“And the last, the leader of the crime syndicate known as Lobos. A violent, unforgiving man, their Don: Limbo.“

Dropping the last of his fingers to cup his coffee once more, he cradled the drink close to his chest as if Minho or him would lunge to take it for themselves from his desperately hooked hands. Felix slumped further into himself, sinking down in the curve of his shoulders and the warp of his spine, he chewed on the bottom of his chapped lips as he finished off, “I think he’s the one who kidnapped Seo. I couldn’t say definitively, and I don’t have the time nor the means available to me to hunt someone like that down to check, obviously~ Still, he might be a good start! He had a heavy hand in production and research. Loooottttt of money, yeah? He took care of legal and disposal too, the old Don didn’t like the CEO much, but this recent one, they’re like, besties or something! It’s sooooooo weird! It makes me think he has something to do with it.”

Behind him, he heard the rustling of the bounty hunter’s shirt. From the corner of his eyes, he assumed he was slipping the pistol away in it’s holster now that Dr. Lee didn’t seem to be too willing or surprising of a threat. Even so, Jisung made sure to keep a tight grip on his weapons, even if the one behind asked him quietly, “Ive only ever seen Lobos once or twice in bounties, but their Don? How do you even find someone like that…?”

He tossed a glance over his shoulder, “Accidentally killing their consilieger in front of them is a wayー That worked with the last Don, it would probably work for this other one too.”

Minho’s face scrunched with concern,

“Whー”

Interrupting him, Felix abruptly stood up from his desk chair. His cup of coffee gripped in his hand, he briefly pushed the rolling seat away from them, before turning his finger onto the door, “That’s all you wanted to know, right? So, there. I gave you the information I know. Now get out of here!”

Like a light switch. On and off. Before they provoked the wattage and accidentally sent the lever into another circuited frenzy, Jisung gently handled the tactical knife back to Minho. Not allowing his eyes to slip off of Felix as he went to pluck the pieces of the broken syringe up with his bare hand and his cup of coffee still balanced precariously in the other, maintaining that disturbed air around him to remain cautious as he pushed Minho towards the door, allowing the bounty hunter to turn his back and slip outside of the office space. Escaping into the same hallway he had been gassed in. Checking the doctor was busied long enough to not chase after them, Jisung jogged for the door as well. Guitar case slamming his laptop into his spine with every step, but not particularly caring as he ripped the door open.

Behind him, Felix called softly, “Jisungie~”

He stopped in his tracks, turning back to the other as he dropped the bloodied edges of the broken glass into his half-sipped cup of coffee. The doctor offered him a tender wave, and a fond smile,

“The next time I see you, I’ll kill you for certain, okay~?”

Jisung slammed the door close on him. Another shudder running goosebumps up his spine as he left for the elevator.

Fucking maniac.

“You knew each other? H-how did you know him, why did he just let you leave like that?” Minho fell in step beside him, his hands busied with pulling his shirt back over his holstered pistol and knife (No, Jisung didn’t peek at his skin on purpose, but he seemed to see the smooth surface of his stomach anyway), both of them hurriedly making their retreat for the elevator at the end of the lengthy hallway. Lengthy, bland, hollow, without any distinction to tell them how high up they were or what building they were in differently from the ones around them. Only doorways for office spaces. Only the LED lights hanging above them. And a lunatic three doors down who threatened to kill Jisung as if those words were as simple as telling the weather was pleasant that day.

“He’s my ex. He had a habit of poisoning me when we dated: He gassed me with mustard gas when I was sleeping, I think he kept lacing warfarin in my food too, and then he tried to kill me by putting chlorine in my coffee. At that point, Seungmin thought it was going too far so he chased Felix off. I didn’t care too much, I liked him at the time, but nowadays he scares the shit out of me,” Jisung briefly explained to him. Brushing off the stages of worry the bounty hunter was going through as his gaze drilled into the side of his head, he simply pressed the call button for the elevator and smoothly switched the subject, “Next time, listen to me and don’t be so cocky. We’re a team now, that means if something happens to you, it’ll be me saving your ass. You got lucky this time.”

Minho tried to defend himself, “I didn’t expect to get gassedー”

“From now on, start expecting it. There’s people who will do worse to you if you’re not prepared for it.”

Beside him, the bounty hunter fell silent. Unwilling, or, unable to defend himself or protest against Jisung as his eyes focused ahead of them. A certain stiffness to his body he recognized in an instant, but didn’t dare to press on.

Instead, Jisung turned his head away. Waiting for the doors of the elevator to arrive and open with a daunting ding!

They stepped inside. Jisung pressed the button for the first floor, and Minho settled himself in the corner. Leaning against the metal wall. When he stepped back, he made sure to occupy the one opposite to him, to not get too close to the other. How could he? At a single glance Minho wasn’t harmed. He didn’t have an excuse to get closer. He didn’t have a reason to either.

But…

“Minho,” Jisung called him.

At his name, the bounty hunter’s vacant eyes snapped back to attention. Recoiling before focusing toward the hitman.

Softly, he asked, “You’re alright?”

“Shaken,” To his surprise, Minho admitted without a second of doubt. How easily he always seemed to spill his thoughts to Jisung, his gaze naturally sunk down as he continued to confess why his hands were still trembling by his sides, “I’ve never met anyone like that. Never. I really thought I was going to die there.”

“Why don’t you stay at my place tonight? I won’t kick you onto the couch this time, you can take my bed,” The hitman offered him a reluctant smile. Turning the corner of his lips up to show a level of understanding that most strangers they passed by on the streets wouldn’t understand. That certain stiffness to his body, that’s what is is, isn’t it? Not fear. Not quite. Preservation, instinct, adrenaline, dread. The passing of realization that didn’t want to process completely. His grip around the shoulder strap of his guitar case tightened when Minho only sent him a curious gaze, and he had to explain himself, “I know when I used to get shaken up during an order in my early days, it helped having someone around to ground me in reality again.”

Slowly, Minho nodded, “If that’s alright for me to do.”

“Sure. I can drive if you want.”

“N-No, that’s okay.”

Jisung watched the floor number count down in the corner, “Stuttering doesn’t suit you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The bounty hunter snapped.

“It’s not bad to be cocky. You get a certain smirk on your lips and a glint to your eyes. I like it,” He complimented, without much reason to and without much need to. They were coworkers afterall. He had no reason, no need to admit what he thought, what his opinion truly was. There was no purpose to it. They were a team. A partnership that would end as soon as they both obtained what they wanted. And yet, once the elevator reached the first floor, the doors opening up, Jisung moved first to hold the sensors from closing them in again, allowing himself his own moment to sigh the breaths he had been holding in as he held the doors for Minho, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

The bounty hunter, though his eyes still stared through Jisung,

“Of course I am, Firecracker.”

The distance in them grew ever so softly  closer.

▄︻デ ══━一ᝰ.ᐟˎˊ