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Entry tags:
it's hard to care (when you bleed out)
title: it's hard to care (when you bleed out)
pairing: sunghoon/jungwon
rating: mature
summary: a wry smile adorns sunghoon's face as he stares down the barrel of a gun, jungwon on the other side. "i told you i'd die for you," sunghoon says.
jungwon grins softly and pulls the trigger.
notes: i'm back again for sungwon day, and this time, i do not have a domestic fluff fic for you. the timeline for this fic is also a little bit ambiguous, my apologies. if it's too confusing, yell at me on twitter and i can do a little more explaining.
title from sTraNgeRs by bring me the horizon.
jungwon hates the smell of the city after the rain.
you better get used to it, wonnie. it’s the rainy season. his brother’s voice echoes in his head and disappears soon after like a wisp of smoke.
he’s sitting on the rooftop of his and heeseung’s apartment building, staring out over the city expanse. the sounds of cars and traffic echo around him, mixed with the din of voices, animals, and rattling metal.
the sky is still dark and overcast, but jungwon catches peeks of golden rays passing through on the horizon, nowhere near his location. it’s fitting that he can only stare at the golden rays of hope from the shadows.
his pants are wet, but it doesn’t distract from what’s bothering him the most: the smell.
the city smells like rust. the hot, humid air blows it right into his face, and jungwon feels his stomach lurch. it smells too much like stale blood, the kind of blood that’s been sitting caked on a surface for too long. it’s a step above blood caked around a festering wound, though. the smell of infection and rotting flesh haunts his nightmares.
jungwon sighs, running a hand through his hair.
the golden rays have disappeared, replaced with more rolling storm clouds.
the first time jungwon deals with a bullet wound by himself, he’s only thirteen years old.
the boy is halfway through pulling a cookie from the jar on the kitchen counter when a loud crash against the back door sends him into a panic, diving for the light switch. he sees streaks of blood against the glass storm door and his brother, heeseung, fallen on his side.
no, no, no, jungwon’s mind chants. his mom’s not home, and he’s never patched anyone up by himself before. it’s always with her help, her encouraging words and soft instructions.
he yanks open and door and props it open with his foot, carefully hooking his arms underneath heeseung’s armpits and dragging him inside, glancing around furtively for a moment before reaching up and turning off the porch light. the door slams shut behind him as he props heeseung up against the kitchen island, the older boy groaning and blinking his eyes blearily.
“won? how did i get here?” heeseung is drenched with sweat and his face looks a little too pale for jungwon’s liking.
“i don’t know- i just heard a crash at the back door- can you stand?”
heeseung tries and shakes his head rapidly when his side protests. “pretty sure i got shot. it was from a distance, but i think it’s lodged in my rib…”
the smell of copper finally hits jungwon like a sack of bricks, and he runs for the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light as he fumbles for the first aid kit his mom leaves there and under their beds.
when he makes it back to the kitchen, heeseung has managed to crawl towards a chair and pull himself into it.
everything after this happens on autopilot. jungwon closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, he channels his mother’s instructions.
heeseung removes his hand from his side finally, allowing jungwon to see the extent of the damage.
“good news, the bullet grazed your side, but did a good amount of damage anyway.” jungwon’s hands are slowly cleaning up the blood and dirt, tossing dirtied gauze to the floor. “you’re gonna need stitches. at least four-” he cleans up a little more and winces. “just kidding, six. you’ve also lost some blood.”
“no shit?” heeseung asks, flinching when jungwon presses into a particularly tender spot. “and the bad news?”
“we’re out of numbing cream. mom hasn’t brought any home from the hospital recently since dad’s been out of town, and i’m guessing she didn’t account for you to get shot.”
“i’m going to feel everything,” he deadpans, face somehow going even paler.
“yeah. you’re gonna feel everything.” jungwon shoves a rolled-up towel at him, and heeseung sighs heavily before jamming it into his mouth. “wait, wait,” he says, spitting out the cloth, “do you know what you’re doing?”
“no idea,” jungwon says, knotting the surgical thread and sterilizing everything a second time.
“what the fuck is that? a fishing hook?”
“shut up, and put that towel back into your mouth.”
jungwon remembers the aftermath of that night all too well. after he was done stitching up his brother and found some of the heavy-duty pain meds for him, he was so wound up on adrenaline still that he started to scrub the bloodstains from the back porch, starting with the storm door.
when his mother came home in the wee hours of the morning, she froze, seeing her youngest son scrubbing bloodstains from the kitchen floor.
“jungwon?”
“heeseung came home with a gunshot wound last night. i fixed him up the best i could. he has six stitches on his side. he’s asleep in his room. i couldn’t get back to sleep so i… started cleaning.”
the next thing he knew, his mom’s arms were wrapped around him, and he was sobbing into her chest. he fell asleep that way, and when he finally came back downstairs well into the afternoon, there was no trace of blood anywhere.
heeseung was fine, of course. his mother complimented jungwon on a job well done and threatened heeseung with a matching gash on his other side if he didn’t stay out of his father’s business while he was gone.
i was pretty out of it that night, but i wasn’t gone enough not to notice how calm you were. your hands weren’t even shaking. you stitched me up like you’d been doing it all your life, heeseung tells him another night when they’re both drunk on the floor of his bedroom.
and now, here they are, years and years later, multiple bullet wounds, knife wounds, several throwing stars, and even a cane sword slice later, jungwon is still there by his brother’s side.
his brother is feared just like his father was feared before him, and so on, and so forth.
his mother is gone.
and jungwon is just there to fix things when business goes sour.
on nights where jungwon can’t sleep, he finds himself sitting on a lone bench at the park near his house, bathing in the soft yellow glow of a streetlamp.
he sits on the bench and stares at the storefronts that have seen better days, neon signs flickering in the night. jungwon wonders how much violence they’ve seen, how many good days, bad days, how much blood has soaked into their structure.
he’s still thinking about whether or not blood rots through wood when someone sits down on the other end of the bench. the man is a familiar presence, in a sort of sick and twisted way.
jungwon slowly turns his gaze towards him, watching as he pats his pockets with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. he stares long enough that the man stops and stares back before the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin, revealing a prominent canine.
"hey, stranger. got a light?"
with no hesitation, jungwon reaches into the front pocket of his shirt and pulls out a zippo lighter that’s also seen better days. there’re a couple dents in it and dozens of scratches, but it still works. he flips it open, and the man leans in, thanking him before leaning back against his side of the bench.
"smoke?"
"no." jungwon flips the lighter closed and drops it back into his pocket.
“why carry the lighter then?”
jungwon smiles, turning his eyes back to the stranger. “for people like you, that ask for a light in the darkness.”
park sunghoon is a festering lesion underneath jungwon’s skin.
the first time he meets him, jungwon is barely sixteen years old, and sunghoon has a knife pressed against heeseung’s throat. small rivulets of blood flow underneath the knife, making it a grotesque necklace of drying red crystals.
“leave,” heeseung hisses at his brother, making the blade cut deeper into his skin.
but jungwon’s eyes are on sunghoon, and the two of them are staring each other down. jungwon sees something dangerous glinting behind sunghoon’s eyes before a smile appears on his face.
suddenly, heeseung is shoved forward and howls when he feels something pierce his shoulder.
jungwon dives for his brother while sunghoon walks off, tucking his bloody knife away.
autopilot takes over, and jungwon manages to get heeseung back to their house in one piece. their mother comes down when she hears heeseung swearing up a storm at four in the morning.
“what the actual fuck- that mother fucker- shit! jungwon, warn a guy before you do that!”
jungwon rolls his eyes, shoving more antiseptic soaked gauze into the knife wound on his shoulder. “i did. if you would just shut your mouth, maybe you’d hear me and not wake mom up.”
“mom is awake, and she is not happy.”
heeseung is the only one who looks over at her, frowning at the bottom of the stairs at him while he lays on the coffee table.
“serrated knife. i need to make sure it’s clean before i stitch you up. two stitches this time. a miracle,” jungwon says, throwing the blood-soaked gauze into a growing pile.
jungwon is too preoccupied with patching up his brother to see the proud look in her eyes as he works, hands moving deftly with purpose.
“heeseung, i told you not to bring your brother out with you. maybe you’ve chosen this life, but jungwon hasn’t. he’s only sixteen, and he still has a chance to get out of here.”
heeseung huffs angrily, and jungwon tells him to relax his shoulder or else he can’t stitch him up.
“he followed me on his own, mom. i didn’t make him come with me.”
“he is also right here in the room with you, so can you guys please not talk about me like i’m not here?” jungwon snips the end of the thread and tosses everything into a sharps container before moving to grab bandages.
“i didn’t wanna distract you while you were stitching, honey. i’ve ripped out your dad’s stitches more than once by getting distracted.”
heeseung sits up and groans as jungwon maneuvers around him to wrap his shoulder.
“i’m sure you did it on purpose, too.” jungwon shoots a grin over his shoulder at his mom, and heeseung can’t help but feel a little bit jealous when she returns it.
heeseung grumbles to himself as he pushes his way past her on the way up the stairs.
“there’s some tylenol three’s in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, if you want something for the pain,” his mom calls after him, but the only answer she gets is the slamming of his door.
she sighs and makes her way over to jungwon, who’s sunk into the couch, exhaustion on his face.
“i followed him because i had a bad feeling. i couldn’t just… leave him out there to die.”
jungwon’s mom leans over and kisses his forehead gently.
“you’ve got such a bright future ahead of you, wonnie. i just don’t want you to have to live in fear like this, wondering who’s gonna show up at our doorstep bleeding out, or wondering when it’s gonna be your turn to bleed.”
after that day, jungwon feels like he’s being watched. the feeling never leaves him, even when he’s at school, it makes his skin crawl. heeseung’s just graduated, and jungwon has two more years until he’s done.
then, on a night where jungwon can’t sleep, he wanders out to the bench underneath the streetlight, staring at the storefronts.
jungwon hears the footsteps long before he sees him, and his head whips over to the darkness before a figure is illuminated under the streetlamp, settling on the opposite side of the bench.
it’s the same man that had the knife pressed to heeseung’s throat.
jungwon freezes. is this it? is he here to end me instead?
the man pulls out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, fumbling to balance his hands as he lights his cigarette. jungwon hears a sigh before the smell of smoke floats in his direction.
eventually, he glances over at jungwon’s rigid frame and laughs. “you don’t have to be so tense. i’m not here to hurt you.”
his voice is smooth, but jungwon doesn’t relax, keeping his eyes trained on him.
“you didn’t relax. good. there’s something going on upstairs, i guess.” he taps at his forehead before offering jungwon a cigarette.
“i don’t smoke,” jungwon says, frowning.
a silence falls between them, and the man sits there until he finishes two more cigarettes, then he gets up and leaves without another word.
jungwon watches his retreating back in the darkness, unsettled.
“do you know the name of the guy that stabbed you?” jungwon asks heeseung at dinner.
the man’s been occupying his thoughts for the better part of the week, and jungwon doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but he sees his face everywhere before he magically disappears.
“i do. why? have you seen him again?” heeseung asks, dropping his ramen from his chopsticks with a frown.
“i think so? i keep thinking i see his face when i leave school, or at the café, or arcade sometimes. i might just be imagining things.”
heeseung worries at his lip for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows. “park sunghoon. dad wants him dead. i want him dead. unfortunately, most people end up dead going after him.”
jungwon swallows thickly, suddenly losing his appetite.
“if you see him again, won, call me. i don’t care where you are, what time it is, call me. understand?”
he nods, pushing his bowl of ramen over to heeseung. “i’m done eating. you can have the rest of mine.”
heeseung grabs jungwon’s arm as he leaves, making him stop. the two of them stare at each other for a moment before heeseung pulls him into a hug, leaning his head against his chest.
“i’m never going to tell you this again, but i’m your brother, jungwon. i love you, okay? i worry about you. i care. don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
“yeah, i know, hee. i love you, too,” jungwon says quietly, returning his brother’s hug for a moment.
they let go of each other, and heeseung grins at him before reaching up to ruffle his brother’s hair. “go do your homework or something. i don’t want mom bitching at me for keeping you up with my bullshit, again.”
jungwon takes the stairs two at time, smile on his face. moments like this make him wish his family could be normal and do normal family things.
but when he opens the door to his bedroom, he stops. the curtains are blowing in the breeze from his open window, a window he knows was closed before he came down for dinner.
a glint catches his eye, and sitting on his bed is a shiny, silver lighter.
jungwon can count the number of times he runs into sunghoon outside of the bench on both hands. and each time, he leaves heeseung with some kind of injury before walking off with a grin, infuriating his brother.
he should be mad at him, but something in jungwon keeps telling him he won’t kill heeseung. at least not yet. his throat itches to ask him why he does it when they meet at the bench in the middle of the night, but they exchange nothing but silence and company.
jungwon doesn’t ask.
sunghoon doesn’t tell.
and for some odd reason, jungwon keeps biting his tongue, keeps lying to his brother and his dad about whether he’s seen sunghoon anywhere near him.
curiosity killed the cat, and jungwon isn’t interested in dying anytime soon.
after a rough night, jungwon stands in line at his favorite coffee shop, staring blankly ahead of him. it's not until he hears his name being called gently by the barista that he snaps out of his daze with a sheepish smile.
"need a few extra shots in your usual today?" he asks with a laugh, knowing jungwon's answer.
"no. gross. what good would it do if i took two sips and then dumped the rest?”
“add an iced americano to his order. i’ll pay,” a voice from behind him says.
when jungwon glances over his shoulder to thank him, he stops, mouth frozen open.
park sunghoon is standing behind him, immaculately dressed in all black. his sleeves are rolled up, and a pair of glasses is perched on the end of his nose, messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
he grins at jungwon, moving past him to tap his card over the reader before replacing his wallet into his pocket.
jungwon’s eyes flick down to the telltale bulge of a pack of cigarettes in the font pocket of his shirt before moving back up to his face again.
“can i get a name for the order?”
“sunghoon,” he says smoothly, eyes never leaving jungwon’s.
“thank you.”
sunghoon nods, picking up his drink from the counter and taking a sip. “you looked like you could use a little pick me up. bye, jungwon. have a good day.”
and before jungwon can blink twice, sunghoon is gone.
“thank you for the drink the other day. i wasn’t having the best day,” jungwon says before sunghoon even sits down the next time he’s at the bench.
“yeah, i could tell. next time, i can get you an alcoholic drink if it’s that bad. you looked like you didn’t sleep at all.”
jungwon winces, remembering the last time heeseung convinced him to take shots with him in his bedroom late at night.
“i don’t drink alcohol. i only use it to disinfect.”
sunghoon lights his cigarette and chuckles. “so, you clean when you’re drunk is what i’m understanding here.”
jungwon turns towards him and furrows his eyebrows. “what? no- you’re not even-” then jungwon realizes sunghoon is making fun of him and shuts his mouth, blush tinting his cheeks.
“cute. how could anyone resist you?”
the dangerous smile is back on sunghoon’s face again, and jungwon swallows.
park sunghoon.
park sunghoon.
things start to change after jungwon’s dad is killed, a few days after his eighteenth birthday.
his death is ruled an accident and swept under the rug. jungwon saw the body, when his dad collapsed at the back door, apologizing to him over and over while he bled out rapidly from his gunshot wounds.
his mom sent him to his room, and jungwon didn’t come out again until heeseung pushed his door open gently to tell him dad was gone.
the funeral was crowded, and jungwon saw a flurry of familiar faces, his father’s business partners and associates, whatever they’re called, giving him their condolences before moving on to congratulate heeseung.
jungwon finds himself on the bench most nights, not bothering to look when he hears footsteps and the creak from the other side when someone sits down.
it isn’t until jungwon smells the cigarette smoke that he glances over at sunghoon, looking like a ghost in the night.
“i’m not glad he’s dead,” sunghoon says finally, “but it makes my life a little easier. one less person gunning for me.”
jungwon blinks a few times before facing forward again, twirling his thumbs on his lap.
“do you have any regrets?” jungwon asks.
sunghoon snorts, coughing a few times when the smoke comes up in ways it’s not supposed to.
“ah. every time i wake up and open my eyes, i have an existential crisis about my life decisions for at least half an hour before i’m functional.” sunghoon takes another drag of his cigarette and tilts his head towards jungwon. “you?”
“family stuff.”
sunghoon nods. “understandable. couldn’t imagine being related to heeseung. i would’ve killed him a lot sooner.”
the question escapes him before he can stop it.
“why haven’t you?”
another silence stretches, and when jungwon turns to look at sunghoon, he’s already watching him, dangerous smile on his face.
“because i know if his life is in danger, i get to see you in action.”
the shift in business infrastructure means there’s more people coming through the house until their mom tells heeseung to move because she’s tired of finding random people in her home and not knowing if she should be shooting them or saving them.
and heeseung listens, moving somewhere deeper into the city, reminding jungwon he’s always a phone call or a text away.
the sound of sobbing downstairs wakes jungwon up from his sleep one night, and he wanders into the living room to see his mother in tears, wiping them away in surprise when she spots him.
“wonnie- i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“it’s okay, mom. you wanna talk about it?” jungwon lays down on the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rests his head on her lap.
she sighs and gently cards her fingers through his hair. “look at you. my little baby, all grown up. i remember when you were this tall, and you punched heeseung when he took your toy truck. nearly broke his nose, too. where does the time go?”
jungwon laughs. “i dunno, mom.”
she hums, moving her hand from his hair to rub his back. “are you sure you wanna take a gap year and stay here with me? we could travel around for a little bit. you don’t have to stay here for little old me. i’ll be fine.”
“and leave heeseung here to fend for himself? you know he won’t last without us here.”
the smile on his mom’s face falls into a sad one.
“don’t i know it… he’s definitely his father’s son. not exactly a good thing, but it’s not a bad thing either.”
they talk a little bit more, and jungwon doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up, he’s alone on the couch with a pillow under his head and a blanket on top of him.
there’s a sticky note on the coffee table in his mom’s handwriting, the words ‘love you, wonnie! breakfast is in the fridge <3’ staring up at him.
if jungwon can count on both hands the number of times he’s seen sunghoon through heeseung, then the number of times he’s seen him on the rickety bench is countless.
without fail, if jungwon is contemplating his life in the middle of the night, sunghoon is there too, smoking his cigarettes.
lately, they’ve evolved from sitting there in silence while sunghoon smokes to asking questions about each other that jungwon would never answer otherwise.
they don’t ever call each other by name, even after their fateful meeting at the coffee shop. sunghoon never says goodbye when he leaves, and he always leaves first.
sometimes, jungwon stays until the sky goes from pitch black to blue to the pink-orange break of sunrise before going home.
sometimes, jungwon goes home right after, heart a little lighter than it was when he first sat down.
“do you ever wish you could leave this life?” sunghoon asks him one night before he lights his cigarette.
jungwon shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders.
“that’s why i took this gap year, to think about things. without me and my mom around, heeseung wouldn’t survive the multitude of stabbings and gunshot wounds he gets. mom tells me i should go. take the money dad left behind, go to university far away, become a nurse, a doctor. she says i have a knack for it. she could look after hee while i’m gone.”
sunghoon nods, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pockets and feeling his pockets for his lighter, frowning when he realizes he doesn’t have it.
jungwon pulls his lighter out of his pocket and flips it open for sunghoon, and sunghoon stops, staring at the lighter for a moment before a grin tugs at his lips.
“picking up smoking?”
jungwon shakes his head, putting it away. he doesn’t say anything else about it, and sunghoon doesn’t ask.
another change comes when jungwon starts seeing sunghoon at all the places he goes.
when he’s at the mall shopping, sunghoon will suddenly appear beside him, going through the clothes and frowning, saying he could do much better than this.
“i’m a teenager. let me enjoy my graphic tees and tight jeans.”
their fingers will brush occasionally, and jungwon tries to ignore the lightning that shoots through his body at the fleeting touches.
“wonnie, where were you last night?”
“i was out at the bench, thinking about my life choices. why?” jungwon asks, shifting his phone to his other ear. he was sitting at the café, working his way through a book when heeseung called him.
“oh. i came by last night to visit you, but you were gone.”
“sorry, hee. did you wanna grab lunch or dinner then?”
“yeah, later. i’ll have to take a rain check for now.”
“alright. i’ll see you. be safe.”
“bye, wonnie.”
jungwon doesn’t think anything of it until he asks his mother at dinner if she saw heeseung last night.
“last night? i was off last night, but i didn’t see him. why?”
jungwon blinks a few times before a lie naturally drops from him. “he was supposed to drop by to give me something. i took a long walk last night, so i wasn’t sure if i missed him or if he just forgot.”
“ah, that boy…”
jungwon goes upstairs after finishing the dishes with a heavy heart. heeseung is watching him. jungwon doesn’t blame him. in fact, he should’ve expected it.
what do i do now? jungwon sinks into his bed and stares blankly at the wall. heeseung probably knows by now jungwon's been lying about seeing sunghoon. sunghoon doesn't seem deterred by it, and if anything, jungwon would bet his left kidney he already knew they were being watched.
why didn't he tell me? jungwon blinks a few times before turning his eyes towards his window. moonlight shines through his curtains, spilling onto the floor.
why would he tell me?
jungwon is curled up on his favorite couch in the library, reading through an old book on embalming practices when a shadow passes over him. he doesn’t have time to look before sunghoon sits down next to him, crowding his body with his own. he rests his arm on top of the couch, leaning forward to read over jungwon’s shoulder.
“embalming practices of ancient civilizations? interesting. planning on preserving some bodies? i can supply you with some to practice on,” he whispers against jungwon’s ear, and jungwon feels his face heating up, tips of his ears turning red.
lately, he and sunghoon have been getting closer.
physically, jungwon tacks on in his head.
sunghoon’s taken to corning jungwon in private places, pressing their bodies together for a brief moment before pulling away.
he started with fleeting touches, and when jungwon didn’t stop him, he moved to lacing their fingers together loosely.
when jungwon is reading too intently, eyebrows furrowing, sunghoon ruins his concentration by bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.
but though they’ve grown closer physically, jungwon still wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything about sunghoon aside from the brand of cigarette he smokes and his coffee order. he’s not even entirely sure what sunghoon’s job is, day or night.
“what’re you thinking about so hard, pet? you’re gonna get permanent wrinkles before you hit your twenties,” sunghoon says, nosing at his hair.
jungwon sighs, leaning back against sunghoon’s chest. an arm snakes around his waist, and suddenly, the normally freezing library is a little too hot.
“wondering if black market organ harvesting is worth getting into.”
sunghoon chuckles quietly. “i know some people. i can ask, if you’re really interested.”
when the weather gets colder, sunghoon gets bolder.
everything he does lights a spark inside jungwon, like a flick of a lighter.
sunghoon consumes his thoughts. jungwon sees him everywhere he goes, and sometimes, he approaches him, and sometimes, he doesn’t, content to watching jungwon go about his daily business.
“have you decided yet, wonnie?” heeseung asks at dinner one night. they’re at jungwon’s favorite diner, a place the whole family used to go when they were kids. jungwon has fond memories of this place.
“on?”
“whether or not you’re gonna take some money and go to uni. get out of… this.” he gestures around him vaguely as jungwon sips on his milkshake. “i know it would make mom happy, to see one of her kids escape.”
jungwon puts his milkshake down and stares at heeseung sitting across from him. a lot has happened since their father passed, passing the business to him.
heeseung looks like he’s aged a decade, and it hasn’t even been a full year since he took over.
“i kinda regret making fun of dad for looking so old. i understand now. god, it’s a wonder he didn’t just have a heart attack and die from stress.”
jungwon shakes his head. “no. if there’s anything i know, i know this family thrives on stress.”
heeseung looks him over, gently pushing his plate of fries over to him. jungwon grabs a handful and shovels them into his mouth, just like when they were kids.
“how’s mom doing?”
“she’s… being mom. not much has changed. as much as she bitched about patching up dad all the time, she misses him.”
a silence stretches between them and jungwon sighs, grabbing his napkin to dab at his mouth.
“i… i kinda wanna get out of here,” he admits quietly.
“tired?”
jungwon shakes his head again, eyes on the table. “i mean like… get out of here. i wanna go to school, be awkward, make friends. live the broke college student life without having to worry about…” jungwon copies heeseung’s vague gesture from earlier, and his brother laughs.
“whenever you’re ready, wonnie. mom’ll be overjoyed to hear it.”
the first time sunghoon kisses jungwon, it’s in the middle of jungwon telling him about the weird medieval torture devices he came across while researching necromancy in the middle ages.
sunghoon leans over to jungwon from his seat beside him at the café and presses their lips together softly. jungwon’s eyes widen, flinching in surprise when he tastes the cigarettes on sunghoon’s lips.
“not sorry. you looked so cute, i couldn’t help myself.”
jungwon blinks rapidly, hands shaking slightly as he digs his fingers into his pants.
“again?” jungwon barely whispers the word, but a slow smile appears on sunghoon’s face.
“you don’t even have to ask.”
the world freezes around them in that moment, and when sunghoon pulls away, jungwon finds himself chasing his warmth, earning a low chuckle from him.
“your friend, the barista’s been watching us. i think you might have some explaining to do after i leave.”
"you really enjoy pineapple on pizza?" sunghoon wrinkles his nose at him, putting out his cigarette on the back of the bench and pocketing the butt.
"you only think that way because you've never actually had it. don't argue with me for the sake of arguing." jungwon has his bent on the bench, resting his cheek on his knee. "plus you smoke. your taste buds are probably broken."
sunghoon gives him an amused grin. "my taste buds are probably broken? is that your professional medical opinion?"
"yes. it is."
"then aren't you obligated to also tell me about the adverse effect it'll have on my health and encourage me to quit? something something cancer stick, something doom on you, and death?"
"it's also my professional medical opinion that you're more likely to die from a gunshot, stabbing, or infection from your line of work.”
sunghoon laughs at him, and jungwon can't help the soft blush on his cheeks and the grin that appears on his face. he leans in closer, brushing the back of his gloved fingers over jungwon's cheek gently.
"cute."
suddenly, jungwon can’t get enough of being close to sunghoon, and it seems sunghoon feels the same way.
jungwon get cornered at the library, pushed against some dusty shelves, sunghoon holding his arms above him with one hand.
jungwon makes noises and sunghoon hushes him, telling him to be quiet or they’ll get caught.
and then sunghoon always disappears, leaving jungwon considerably more disheveled and frustrated.
it’s the only time they hear each other say their names.
jungwon has half the mind to tell heeseung to go fuck himself when he calls him at three in the morning to come help fix up some casualties. his brother's already sent a car to the house, and jungwon grumbles angrily to himself as he shoves supplies into his backpack and leaves through the back door, falling asleep on the way to the safe house.
he's shaken awake by the driver and follows him inside, seeing three or four men strewn out over the living room, including his brother, who seems uninjured for the most part.
"thanks for coming, wonnie."
"you didn't give me much of a choice," he says sarcastically before dropping his backpack and assessing the damage. what did his mom call it? triaging?
jungwon works methodically, listening to heeseung talk behind him.
"eyes to yourself, lee. look at him like that again, and i'll remove your eyeballs with my bare hands," jungwon hears heeseung growl out, reaching to grab the man's neck. jungwon finishes bandaging his leg and doesn't bother looking up.
"is that it? can i go home and sleep now?"
"yeah. thanks again, won." heeseung ruffles his hair again, and jungwon nods, sleepily, stretching his arms above his head as he yawns.
the sun is coming up by the time jungwon trudges up the stairs towards his room, and when he pushes open his door, park sunghoon comes into view, sitting on his bed, covered in blood. he wants to ask him what he's doing there and what happened, but when he opens his mouth, the words that come out instead are, "really? you're getting blood all over my sheets and my blankets."
sunghoon opens his good eye and something resembling a laugh escapes from him. "i'll replace everything for you," he rasps out.
jungwon stands there and stares before motioning for him to scoot to the edge of the bed, dropping his backpack and taking inventory of what he has left before reaching under his bed to pull out a larger kit his mom always leaves fully stocked for him.
when he stands up again, he looks over sunghoon with a frown, taking inventory of his injuries. "black eye. there's a nasty looking gash on your forehead. i'll have to clean that up before i can see if it needs stitches. lip is busted..." the list goes on and on, and jungwon decides to work from the top down.
"were you stabbed? shot?"
sunghoon shakes his head. "most of this blood isn't mine."
jungwon heaves a sigh, continuing to work in silence. his head wound isn't as severe as he thought, so jungwon applies a butterfly bandage and hopes for the best.
"do you want anything for the pain?"
"i'm fine. thanks."
but jungwon leans in and gently presses his lips to the bandages on his head, then his nose, and his uninjured cheek. “a kiss to make it feel better.”
by the time he's finally done, jungwon can barely keep his eyes open, falling onto the empty half of his bed and promptly falling asleep.
sunghoon resists the urge to light a cigarette. instead, he reaches for jungwon with his uninjured hand and gently cards his fingers through the sleeping boy's hair.
when jungwon regains consciousness, sunghoon is long gone. the only traces left of him are his blood-stained sheets and a trash can full of bloodied gauze.
jungwon falls asleep again, and when he wakes up, there's an unmarked box with new sheets and blankets for him at his backdoor.
for the first time since jungwon’s been contemplating his life on the bench, he doesn’t see sunghoon. he chalks it up to him recovering from his injuries.
days turn to weeks.
weeks of wondering why he’s disappointed when he leaves the bench without seeing him.
jungwon’s skin itches at the thought.
the first time jungwon genuinely fears for his life, he’s on his way home from the café after meeting some friends. he passes by an alley when a pair of gloved hands reach out and drag him into the shadows, covering his mouth to keep him from calling for help.
jungwon doesn’t even get a chance to struggle before something is pressed to his face, and he passes out.
when he comes to, he’s in a dimly lit hotel room, tied to the bed. fluttering curtains catch his attention, and he spots a figure out on the balcony, the telltale smell of cigarette smoke wafting inside.
jungwon stays still, eyes wide until his suspicions are confirmed, and sunghoon walks inside, a smile appearing on his face when he sees jungwon is awake.
“there’s a sight for sore eyes. promise you’ll be quiet if i take off your gag?”
jungwon narrows his eyes at him but reluctantly nods his head, and sunghoon moves to undo his gag.
he’s dressed in all black today, top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. his sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms until his hands disappear into black, leather gloves.
jungwon watches as he pulls off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them on the nightstand before sitting down next to him, reaching out to gently trace his jawline. “i missed you, jungwon. sorry i’ve been gone for so long. i do unfortunately have a job to do.”
when the gag is gone, jungwon stretches his jaw with a groan, feeling it pop a few times before it starts aching again.
sunghoon sits down and hands him a bottle of water, realizing a little too late that jungwon’s hands are still tied up.
“open your mouth. i’ll pour some in. can’t untie your hands just yet.”
he eyes sunghoon for a moment before opening his mouth, and sunghoon grins at him before tipping the water.
“if you’re going to kill me, please make it quick.”
sunghoon gasps mockingly at him, putting a hand over his chest. “i’m not going to kill you. but the big bosses do want you dead. they seem to think the best way to get to heeseung is through you. your brother doesn’t like that we’ve been seeing each other.”
something clicks in jungwon’s mind. the night sunghoon came by to get fixed up. heeseung refusing to take no for an answer when he normally wouldn’t bother him.
“did he try to kill you that night or just want to send a message?”
sunghoon laughs, and it’s a sound jungwon’s missed more than he would care to admit.
“i’m not sure, to be honest with you. i did have to go, though. a little bullying doesn’t scare me.”
“why am i here then?”
the dangerous glint is back in sunghoon’s eyes again as he grins, tongue tracing over his canines for a moment.
jungwon shrinks back when sunghoon climbs onto the bed and straddles him, bracing his hand against the headboard and leaning down until their faces are almost touching.
“i never understood the phrase about absence making the heart grow fonder until now. did you miss me, pet?” sunghoon asks softly, grabbing jungwon’s chin to tilt his head up.
“i… i…”
“tell me you don’t want it, jungwon. tell me you don’t want it, and i’ll untie you, and drop you off at home.”
jungwon licks his lips nervously, an action that doesn’t go unmissed by sunghoon. the man above him remains painfully still, waiting for an answer from him.
the longer he’s there, the more heat jungwon can feel pooling in his stomach, and something inside him threatens to snap.
yes, sunghoon is attractive. yes, he’s admitted to nearly maiming his brother dozens of times just to see jungwon, and the thought of it strokes a tiny part of jungwon’s ego.
“well? i won’t ask you again.”
jungwon sees the muscle rippling in his arms with the sheer willpower he’s using to keep himself still.
look at how bad he wants you, a voice in the back of his head says smugly. it stokes at his ego until jungwon can feel something sparking inside him.
“jungwon…”
and that’s all it takes, a whisper of his name falling from sunghoon’s lips, and jungwon snaps, body on fire.
“i want it. please, sunghoon-”
and when sunghoon descends on him, jungwon knows there’s no escaping this alive.
“are you happy, sunghoon?”
“no. i won’t be happy until you’re mine and only mine.”
jungwon finds himself sitting across from heeseung in his office, an office that used to belong to their dad.
heeseung looks more tired than jungwon’s ever seen him, but he can’t bring himself to worry too much for him.
“park sunghoon.”
jungwon waits. heeseung rubs at his face with his hands, sighing heavily.
“my people have been saying they’ve seen you two together quite often.”
he continues to wait quietly, waiting for heeseung’s question.
“is it true?”
“yeah.”
heeseung’s eyes go cold as he looks up at jungwon, frown pulling down at the corners of his lips.
“is he threatening you?”
“no.”
the two stare at each other. jungwon’s not going to volunteer any information, and he knows heeseung doesn’t know what questions to ask.
“are you going to tell me it’s not safe? am i ever really safe at any moment in my life?”
“safer than when you’re in the company of someone who’s killed a countless number of people.”
actually, i don’t think there’s a safer place to be. what about you? jungwon muses, but he keeps the thought to himself.
“jungwon, please. i’m just worried about you. he’s using you to get to me.”
jungwon nods.
“ah. did he give you the i’m a bad influence speech?” sunghoon’s sitting next to him on the bench as jungwon stares off into the darkness again.
“no. the i’m just worried about you because i’m your big brother speech.”
“if i really were a bad influence, we would be sharing cigarettes by now.”
“you tried.” jungwon pulls the lighter out of his pocket and flips it open and closed a few times before replacing it in his pocket.
“i did no such thing. i left it for you just in case i forget mine and need a light.”
“you trust me to be your light?”
sunghoon puffs quietly at his smoke for a moment before breathing out slowly.
“you’re the brightest thing in this darkness, love.”
the first time someone dies in jungwon’s arms, he feels a piece of himself die with them.
his phone rings in the middle of the night, and when he groans, squinting at his screen, he doesn’t expect to see his mother’s name and face.
“mom? are you okay?”
“hey, wonnie. i just got off my shift at the hospital. there’s a car that’s been following me since i left. i’ve been trying to lose them but…”
jungwon sits up, heart beating out of his chest. “turn on your location, mom. did you call heeseung?”
“i called him first, but he didn’t answer.”
“i’ll try and get a hold of him. don’t stop moving.”
“i know. i love you, jungwon.”
“… i love you, too, mom.”
then the line goes dead.
jungwon immediately calls heeseung, growling in frustration when his call goes to voicemail.
“for once in our goddamn lives we actually need you instead, answer your damn phone!” jungwon calls him four more times before giving up and pulling up his mother’s location on his own phone.
he watches her circle the streets, anxiety spiking when she stops a beat too long.
jungwon sends a string of texts to heeseung and calls him two more times.
this his mom stops moving.
jungwon holds his breath.
after five minutes of no movement, jungwon grabs his backpack and bolts out the door. he follows his gps, running for life.
it takes him nearly ten minutes on foot, looking around frantically when he sees their dots overlap.
“mom?” he runs towards an alley and turns, blood draining from his face when he sees a familiar body on the ground.
“no. no. no. mom!”
he dives for her, wincing at the large bloom on blood on her back, sitting her up against him.
“…won?” she blinks blearily at him and forces a smile to her face. jungwon can feel her shivering in his arms, digging her fingers into his wrist.
“baby,” she whispers, “i’m… n-not g-gonn-na ma-make it.”
jungwon feels the tears pooling in his eyes, but he holds them back the best he can. “you’re gonna be fine, mom. don’t worry. heeseung’s coming. he’s coming. you’re gonna be fine.”
she snorts, but the snort quickly turns into a cough that wracks her entire body, and when she goes to wipe at her mouth, it comes away stained with blood.
jungwon tightens his grip on her, gently laying his cheek against the top of her head. the two of them don’t speak for a few moments, listening to the low hum of the neon lights in the alley.
“i’m so… proud of you, jungwon. you and your brother. things… could’ve been better… but… i’m so proud…”
“you’re gonna be okay, mom. heeseung’ll get here, i’ll clean you up for once while he makes fun of you. you’re gonna help me move in at uni, and when i finally get into medical school, you’re gonna be at my white coat ceremony. they’re gonna be calling me doctor. i’m gonna save lives.”
she hums weakly, closing her eyes. “you’ve… thought about it… huh?”
“all the time. you still need to teach me all your shortcuts and tricks.”
his mother hacks out another laugh, nuzzling her face into his arm. “promise me… you won’t… be an asshole doctor.”
“you’re gonna be fine, mom,” jungwon repeats, but at this point, his words sound so hollow, it feels as if he never spoke in the first place.
silence falls over them once more, and as the seconds tick, jungwon feels the life leaving his mother’s body. she feels too light, and jungwon clings to her, desperate to keep her grounded.
“jungwon?”
“hmm?”
“i love you.” his mother is shaking violently in his arms now, and jungwon knows it won’t be too much longer.
“i love you, too, mom. so much.”
a ghost of a smile appears on her face before she shudders and finally goes limp in his arms.
jungwon doesn’t remember how long he sat there, holding onto his mother’s body, tears streaming down his face and mixing with blood, dirt, and whatever else.
he thinks he remembers heeseung’s voice, hands prying his arms off of her, heeseung picking him up and carrying him on his back.
there’s a car ride at some point, and suddenly, jungwon’s next lucid memory is sitting in the kitchen of one of the safe houses, steaming mug of coffee next to him.
all these years and heeseung still doesn’t remember that i hate coffee, jungwon thinks, numbly reaching out for the mug and taking a sip. it burns his mouth, but he doesn’t taste the bitterness.
he’s still covered in blood, dirt, and grime, but none of the blood is his.
he hears shuffling on his right and turns his head slowly to see heeseung leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“how’re you holding up?”
jungwon shrugs. “i’m not.” he blinks a few times, and the longer he stares at him, the angrier he gets. “where were you?”
heeseung freezes for a moment before he looks down at his feet.
jungwon hurls the cup of hot coffee at heeseung’s feet, watching him flinch as it shatters.
“where the fuck were you?” jungwon hisses.
heeseung’s silence only fuels his rage.
“the one goddamn time we need you for once, you’re MIA. mom and i are at your every beck and call twenty-four seven, but when we need you?”
jungwon wants to cry. he wants to scream until his throat gives out. he wants to claw at his chest until he digs his own beating heart out and make it stop.
“if you had any doubt about who did this,” heeseung says softly, dropping something on the table for jungwon before turning to leave him alone with his thoughts.
jungwon blindly reaches for the object, fingers closing around something cold, metal, and broken.
when he finally opens his palm and looks at it, he wants to vomit.
a bullet covered in blood- his mother’s blood- with psh engraved on the side.
his mother’s funeral is a private one. a few of the overnight staff from the hospital attend, and they only speak to jungwon because they’ve never seen heeseung before in their lives.
jungwon stands at her grave, staring at the headstone. they buried her next to their father, and he hopes that she gets to jab more needles into him in the afterlife.
he hasn’t spoken to heeseung since he dropped the crushed bullet on the kitchen table.
his brother more or less told him he would be moving to a safe house in the city closer to him, and jungwon didn’t argue.
he couldn’t stand being inside his childhood home anymore, not with everything he knows now.
jungwon’s dreams die with his mother. all he has now are his hopes and heeseung.
it takes a month before jungwon finds himself on the bench again late one night, when heeseung’s watchful eye finally calms down. he doesn’t even turn his head when he hears him sit down on the other side.
the silence between them is deafening.
“are you happy? i’m staying. i’m stuck in this life now.” jungwon doesn’t get an immediate response, listening to the sounds of the lighter followed by an exhale.
“no. i’ve told you this. i won’t be happy until you’re mine.”
a humorless laugh escapes jungwon’s lips. he lets his head fall back, eyes staring at the night sky. he wonders if one of the stars is his mom looking down at him, tell him to get on with his life.
“i didn’t kill her,” sunghoon says.
another beat of silence.
“i know.”
sunghoon raises an eyebrow, finally looking at jungwon. the dark circles under his eyes are threatening to take over his face. in the span of a month, jungwon looks like he’s aged ten years.
“then you know who did.”
“i do. i also know you were planning to kill her, too, but he beat you to it.”
he's starting to hate the sound of silence when sunghoon says nothing in reply.
and for the first time, jungwon leaves the bench first, disappearing into the night.
jungwon realizes belatedly, the person he should’ve been trying to fix is himself. he’s the only one to blame, letting his injuries get infected and fester, even metaphorically.
he has a gun pointed sunghoon, who has a knife pressed against heeseung’s throat again.
it’s been years, but their song and dance hasn’t changed.
until today.
jungwon points his gun down and shoots.
heeseung howls, falling to the ground as sunghoon releases his grip, clutching his leg.
stepping over his bleeding brother, jungwon points it at sunghoon.
a wry smile adorns sunghoon's face as he stares down the barrel of a gun, jungwon on the other side. "i told you i'd die for you," sunghoon says, dropping his knife.
jungwon grins softly and pulls the trigger.
an empty click reaches both their ears, and sunghoon visibly relaxes for a moment.
“how unfortunate.”
but then jungwon points his gun at his leg and shoots, sending a string of curses into the air from both him and heeseung.
jungwon squats down and smiles at heeseung.
“that’s for killing mom and thinking i didn’t know it was you.” he pats his cheek while heeseung glares at him before getting up and moving over to sunghoon.
he’s in pain, but he can’t stop the smile on his face when he meets eyes with jungwon.
“and that, was for not killing heeseung before he killed my mom.” jungwon leans over and presses a gentle kiss to sunghoon’s lips, sunghoon smiling into the kiss when he hears heeseung cursing in the background.
“have fun, you two. i’m leaving.”
their protests fall on deaf ears as jungwon turns to leave.
but sometimes, his mom’s voice echoes, it’s hard to care when you’ve bled out.
pairing: sunghoon/jungwon
rating: mature
summary: a wry smile adorns sunghoon's face as he stares down the barrel of a gun, jungwon on the other side. "i told you i'd die for you," sunghoon says.
jungwon grins softly and pulls the trigger.
notes: i'm back again for sungwon day, and this time, i do not have a domestic fluff fic for you. the timeline for this fic is also a little bit ambiguous, my apologies. if it's too confusing, yell at me on twitter and i can do a little more explaining.
title from sTraNgeRs by bring me the horizon.
jungwon hates the smell of the city after the rain.
you better get used to it, wonnie. it’s the rainy season. his brother’s voice echoes in his head and disappears soon after like a wisp of smoke.
he’s sitting on the rooftop of his and heeseung’s apartment building, staring out over the city expanse. the sounds of cars and traffic echo around him, mixed with the din of voices, animals, and rattling metal.
the sky is still dark and overcast, but jungwon catches peeks of golden rays passing through on the horizon, nowhere near his location. it’s fitting that he can only stare at the golden rays of hope from the shadows.
his pants are wet, but it doesn’t distract from what’s bothering him the most: the smell.
the city smells like rust. the hot, humid air blows it right into his face, and jungwon feels his stomach lurch. it smells too much like stale blood, the kind of blood that’s been sitting caked on a surface for too long. it’s a step above blood caked around a festering wound, though. the smell of infection and rotting flesh haunts his nightmares.
jungwon sighs, running a hand through his hair.
the golden rays have disappeared, replaced with more rolling storm clouds.
the first time jungwon deals with a bullet wound by himself, he’s only thirteen years old.
the boy is halfway through pulling a cookie from the jar on the kitchen counter when a loud crash against the back door sends him into a panic, diving for the light switch. he sees streaks of blood against the glass storm door and his brother, heeseung, fallen on his side.
no, no, no, jungwon’s mind chants. his mom’s not home, and he’s never patched anyone up by himself before. it’s always with her help, her encouraging words and soft instructions.
he yanks open and door and props it open with his foot, carefully hooking his arms underneath heeseung’s armpits and dragging him inside, glancing around furtively for a moment before reaching up and turning off the porch light. the door slams shut behind him as he props heeseung up against the kitchen island, the older boy groaning and blinking his eyes blearily.
“won? how did i get here?” heeseung is drenched with sweat and his face looks a little too pale for jungwon’s liking.
“i don’t know- i just heard a crash at the back door- can you stand?”
heeseung tries and shakes his head rapidly when his side protests. “pretty sure i got shot. it was from a distance, but i think it’s lodged in my rib…”
the smell of copper finally hits jungwon like a sack of bricks, and he runs for the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light as he fumbles for the first aid kit his mom leaves there and under their beds.
when he makes it back to the kitchen, heeseung has managed to crawl towards a chair and pull himself into it.
everything after this happens on autopilot. jungwon closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, he channels his mother’s instructions.
assess the wound.
heeseung removes his hand from his side finally, allowing jungwon to see the extent of the damage.
“good news, the bullet grazed your side, but did a good amount of damage anyway.” jungwon’s hands are slowly cleaning up the blood and dirt, tossing dirtied gauze to the floor. “you’re gonna need stitches. at least four-” he cleans up a little more and winces. “just kidding, six. you’ve also lost some blood.”
“no shit?” heeseung asks, flinching when jungwon presses into a particularly tender spot. “and the bad news?”
talk them through it. sometimes, it helps to calm them down.
“we’re out of numbing cream. mom hasn’t brought any home from the hospital recently since dad’s been out of town, and i’m guessing she didn’t account for you to get shot.”
“i’m going to feel everything,” he deadpans, face somehow going even paler.
“yeah. you’re gonna feel everything.” jungwon shoves a rolled-up towel at him, and heeseung sighs heavily before jamming it into his mouth. “wait, wait,” he says, spitting out the cloth, “do you know what you’re doing?”
tell them white lies to make them feel better. to give them hope.
“no idea,” jungwon says, knotting the surgical thread and sterilizing everything a second time.
“what the fuck is that? a fishing hook?”
“shut up, and put that towel back into your mouth.”
then do whatever you can to fix them.
jungwon remembers the aftermath of that night all too well. after he was done stitching up his brother and found some of the heavy-duty pain meds for him, he was so wound up on adrenaline still that he started to scrub the bloodstains from the back porch, starting with the storm door.
when his mother came home in the wee hours of the morning, she froze, seeing her youngest son scrubbing bloodstains from the kitchen floor.
“jungwon?”
“heeseung came home with a gunshot wound last night. i fixed him up the best i could. he has six stitches on his side. he’s asleep in his room. i couldn’t get back to sleep so i… started cleaning.”
the next thing he knew, his mom’s arms were wrapped around him, and he was sobbing into her chest. he fell asleep that way, and when he finally came back downstairs well into the afternoon, there was no trace of blood anywhere.
heeseung was fine, of course. his mother complimented jungwon on a job well done and threatened heeseung with a matching gash on his other side if he didn’t stay out of his father’s business while he was gone.
i was pretty out of it that night, but i wasn’t gone enough not to notice how calm you were. your hands weren’t even shaking. you stitched me up like you’d been doing it all your life, heeseung tells him another night when they’re both drunk on the floor of his bedroom.
and now, here they are, years and years later, multiple bullet wounds, knife wounds, several throwing stars, and even a cane sword slice later, jungwon is still there by his brother’s side.
his brother is feared just like his father was feared before him, and so on, and so forth.
his mother is gone.
and jungwon is just there to fix things when business goes sour.
on nights where jungwon can’t sleep, he finds himself sitting on a lone bench at the park near his house, bathing in the soft yellow glow of a streetlamp.
he sits on the bench and stares at the storefronts that have seen better days, neon signs flickering in the night. jungwon wonders how much violence they’ve seen, how many good days, bad days, how much blood has soaked into their structure.
he’s still thinking about whether or not blood rots through wood when someone sits down on the other end of the bench. the man is a familiar presence, in a sort of sick and twisted way.
jungwon slowly turns his gaze towards him, watching as he pats his pockets with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. he stares long enough that the man stops and stares back before the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin, revealing a prominent canine.
"hey, stranger. got a light?"
with no hesitation, jungwon reaches into the front pocket of his shirt and pulls out a zippo lighter that’s also seen better days. there’re a couple dents in it and dozens of scratches, but it still works. he flips it open, and the man leans in, thanking him before leaning back against his side of the bench.
"smoke?"
"no." jungwon flips the lighter closed and drops it back into his pocket.
“why carry the lighter then?”
jungwon smiles, turning his eyes back to the stranger. “for people like you, that ask for a light in the darkness.”
assess the wound
park sunghoon is a festering lesion underneath jungwon’s skin.
the first time he meets him, jungwon is barely sixteen years old, and sunghoon has a knife pressed against heeseung’s throat. small rivulets of blood flow underneath the knife, making it a grotesque necklace of drying red crystals.
“leave,” heeseung hisses at his brother, making the blade cut deeper into his skin.
but jungwon’s eyes are on sunghoon, and the two of them are staring each other down. jungwon sees something dangerous glinting behind sunghoon’s eyes before a smile appears on his face.
suddenly, heeseung is shoved forward and howls when he feels something pierce his shoulder.
jungwon dives for his brother while sunghoon walks off, tucking his bloody knife away.
autopilot takes over, and jungwon manages to get heeseung back to their house in one piece. their mother comes down when she hears heeseung swearing up a storm at four in the morning.
“what the actual fuck- that mother fucker- shit! jungwon, warn a guy before you do that!”
jungwon rolls his eyes, shoving more antiseptic soaked gauze into the knife wound on his shoulder. “i did. if you would just shut your mouth, maybe you’d hear me and not wake mom up.”
“mom is awake, and she is not happy.”
heeseung is the only one who looks over at her, frowning at the bottom of the stairs at him while he lays on the coffee table.
“serrated knife. i need to make sure it’s clean before i stitch you up. two stitches this time. a miracle,” jungwon says, throwing the blood-soaked gauze into a growing pile.
jungwon is too preoccupied with patching up his brother to see the proud look in her eyes as he works, hands moving deftly with purpose.
“heeseung, i told you not to bring your brother out with you. maybe you’ve chosen this life, but jungwon hasn’t. he’s only sixteen, and he still has a chance to get out of here.”
heeseung huffs angrily, and jungwon tells him to relax his shoulder or else he can’t stitch him up.
“he followed me on his own, mom. i didn’t make him come with me.”
“he is also right here in the room with you, so can you guys please not talk about me like i’m not here?” jungwon snips the end of the thread and tosses everything into a sharps container before moving to grab bandages.
“i didn’t wanna distract you while you were stitching, honey. i’ve ripped out your dad’s stitches more than once by getting distracted.”
heeseung sits up and groans as jungwon maneuvers around him to wrap his shoulder.
“i’m sure you did it on purpose, too.” jungwon shoots a grin over his shoulder at his mom, and heeseung can’t help but feel a little bit jealous when she returns it.
heeseung grumbles to himself as he pushes his way past her on the way up the stairs.
“there’s some tylenol three’s in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, if you want something for the pain,” his mom calls after him, but the only answer she gets is the slamming of his door.
she sighs and makes her way over to jungwon, who’s sunk into the couch, exhaustion on his face.
“i followed him because i had a bad feeling. i couldn’t just… leave him out there to die.”
jungwon’s mom leans over and kisses his forehead gently.
“you’ve got such a bright future ahead of you, wonnie. i just don’t want you to have to live in fear like this, wondering who’s gonna show up at our doorstep bleeding out, or wondering when it’s gonna be your turn to bleed.”
after that day, jungwon feels like he’s being watched. the feeling never leaves him, even when he’s at school, it makes his skin crawl. heeseung’s just graduated, and jungwon has two more years until he’s done.
then, on a night where jungwon can’t sleep, he wanders out to the bench underneath the streetlight, staring at the storefronts.
jungwon hears the footsteps long before he sees him, and his head whips over to the darkness before a figure is illuminated under the streetlamp, settling on the opposite side of the bench.
it’s the same man that had the knife pressed to heeseung’s throat.
jungwon freezes. is this it? is he here to end me instead?
the man pulls out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, fumbling to balance his hands as he lights his cigarette. jungwon hears a sigh before the smell of smoke floats in his direction.
eventually, he glances over at jungwon’s rigid frame and laughs. “you don’t have to be so tense. i’m not here to hurt you.”
his voice is smooth, but jungwon doesn’t relax, keeping his eyes trained on him.
“you didn’t relax. good. there’s something going on upstairs, i guess.” he taps at his forehead before offering jungwon a cigarette.
“i don’t smoke,” jungwon says, frowning.
a silence falls between them, and the man sits there until he finishes two more cigarettes, then he gets up and leaves without another word.
jungwon watches his retreating back in the darkness, unsettled.
“do you know the name of the guy that stabbed you?” jungwon asks heeseung at dinner.
the man’s been occupying his thoughts for the better part of the week, and jungwon doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but he sees his face everywhere before he magically disappears.
“i do. why? have you seen him again?” heeseung asks, dropping his ramen from his chopsticks with a frown.
“i think so? i keep thinking i see his face when i leave school, or at the café, or arcade sometimes. i might just be imagining things.”
heeseung worries at his lip for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows. “park sunghoon. dad wants him dead. i want him dead. unfortunately, most people end up dead going after him.”
jungwon swallows thickly, suddenly losing his appetite.
“if you see him again, won, call me. i don’t care where you are, what time it is, call me. understand?”
he nods, pushing his bowl of ramen over to heeseung. “i’m done eating. you can have the rest of mine.”
heeseung grabs jungwon’s arm as he leaves, making him stop. the two of them stare at each other for a moment before heeseung pulls him into a hug, leaning his head against his chest.
“i’m never going to tell you this again, but i’m your brother, jungwon. i love you, okay? i worry about you. i care. don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”
“yeah, i know, hee. i love you, too,” jungwon says quietly, returning his brother’s hug for a moment.
they let go of each other, and heeseung grins at him before reaching up to ruffle his brother’s hair. “go do your homework or something. i don’t want mom bitching at me for keeping you up with my bullshit, again.”
jungwon takes the stairs two at time, smile on his face. moments like this make him wish his family could be normal and do normal family things.
but when he opens the door to his bedroom, he stops. the curtains are blowing in the breeze from his open window, a window he knows was closed before he came down for dinner.
a glint catches his eye, and sitting on his bed is a shiny, silver lighter.
jungwon can count the number of times he runs into sunghoon outside of the bench on both hands. and each time, he leaves heeseung with some kind of injury before walking off with a grin, infuriating his brother.
he should be mad at him, but something in jungwon keeps telling him he won’t kill heeseung. at least not yet. his throat itches to ask him why he does it when they meet at the bench in the middle of the night, but they exchange nothing but silence and company.
jungwon doesn’t ask.
sunghoon doesn’t tell.
and for some odd reason, jungwon keeps biting his tongue, keeps lying to his brother and his dad about whether he’s seen sunghoon anywhere near him.
curiosity killed the cat, and jungwon isn’t interested in dying anytime soon.
after a rough night, jungwon stands in line at his favorite coffee shop, staring blankly ahead of him. it's not until he hears his name being called gently by the barista that he snaps out of his daze with a sheepish smile.
"need a few extra shots in your usual today?" he asks with a laugh, knowing jungwon's answer.
"no. gross. what good would it do if i took two sips and then dumped the rest?”
“add an iced americano to his order. i’ll pay,” a voice from behind him says.
when jungwon glances over his shoulder to thank him, he stops, mouth frozen open.
park sunghoon is standing behind him, immaculately dressed in all black. his sleeves are rolled up, and a pair of glasses is perched on the end of his nose, messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
he grins at jungwon, moving past him to tap his card over the reader before replacing his wallet into his pocket.
jungwon’s eyes flick down to the telltale bulge of a pack of cigarettes in the font pocket of his shirt before moving back up to his face again.
“can i get a name for the order?”
“sunghoon,” he says smoothly, eyes never leaving jungwon’s.
“thank you.”
sunghoon nods, picking up his drink from the counter and taking a sip. “you looked like you could use a little pick me up. bye, jungwon. have a good day.”
and before jungwon can blink twice, sunghoon is gone.
he knows my name.
“thank you for the drink the other day. i wasn’t having the best day,” jungwon says before sunghoon even sits down the next time he’s at the bench.
“yeah, i could tell. next time, i can get you an alcoholic drink if it’s that bad. you looked like you didn’t sleep at all.”
jungwon winces, remembering the last time heeseung convinced him to take shots with him in his bedroom late at night.
“i don’t drink alcohol. i only use it to disinfect.”
sunghoon lights his cigarette and chuckles. “so, you clean when you’re drunk is what i’m understanding here.”
jungwon turns towards him and furrows his eyebrows. “what? no- you’re not even-” then jungwon realizes sunghoon is making fun of him and shuts his mouth, blush tinting his cheeks.
“cute. how could anyone resist you?”
the dangerous smile is back on sunghoon’s face again, and jungwon swallows.
park sunghoon.
park sunghoon.
park sunghoon.
i’m fucked.
talk them through it. sometimes, it helps calm them down.
things start to change after jungwon’s dad is killed, a few days after his eighteenth birthday.
his death is ruled an accident and swept under the rug. jungwon saw the body, when his dad collapsed at the back door, apologizing to him over and over while he bled out rapidly from his gunshot wounds.
his mom sent him to his room, and jungwon didn’t come out again until heeseung pushed his door open gently to tell him dad was gone.
the funeral was crowded, and jungwon saw a flurry of familiar faces, his father’s business partners and associates, whatever they’re called, giving him their condolences before moving on to congratulate heeseung.
jungwon finds himself on the bench most nights, not bothering to look when he hears footsteps and the creak from the other side when someone sits down.
it isn’t until jungwon smells the cigarette smoke that he glances over at sunghoon, looking like a ghost in the night.
“i’m not glad he’s dead,” sunghoon says finally, “but it makes my life a little easier. one less person gunning for me.”
jungwon blinks a few times before facing forward again, twirling his thumbs on his lap.
“do you have any regrets?” jungwon asks.
sunghoon snorts, coughing a few times when the smoke comes up in ways it’s not supposed to.
“ah. every time i wake up and open my eyes, i have an existential crisis about my life decisions for at least half an hour before i’m functional.” sunghoon takes another drag of his cigarette and tilts his head towards jungwon. “you?”
“family stuff.”
sunghoon nods. “understandable. couldn’t imagine being related to heeseung. i would’ve killed him a lot sooner.”
the question escapes him before he can stop it.
“why haven’t you?”
another silence stretches, and when jungwon turns to look at sunghoon, he’s already watching him, dangerous smile on his face.
“because i know if his life is in danger, i get to see you in action.”
the shift in business infrastructure means there’s more people coming through the house until their mom tells heeseung to move because she’s tired of finding random people in her home and not knowing if she should be shooting them or saving them.
and heeseung listens, moving somewhere deeper into the city, reminding jungwon he’s always a phone call or a text away.
the sound of sobbing downstairs wakes jungwon up from his sleep one night, and he wanders into the living room to see his mother in tears, wiping them away in surprise when she spots him.
“wonnie- i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“it’s okay, mom. you wanna talk about it?” jungwon lays down on the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rests his head on her lap.
she sighs and gently cards her fingers through his hair. “look at you. my little baby, all grown up. i remember when you were this tall, and you punched heeseung when he took your toy truck. nearly broke his nose, too. where does the time go?”
jungwon laughs. “i dunno, mom.”
she hums, moving her hand from his hair to rub his back. “are you sure you wanna take a gap year and stay here with me? we could travel around for a little bit. you don’t have to stay here for little old me. i’ll be fine.”
“and leave heeseung here to fend for himself? you know he won’t last without us here.”
the smile on his mom’s face falls into a sad one.
“don’t i know it… he’s definitely his father’s son. not exactly a good thing, but it’s not a bad thing either.”
they talk a little bit more, and jungwon doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up, he’s alone on the couch with a pillow under his head and a blanket on top of him.
there’s a sticky note on the coffee table in his mom’s handwriting, the words ‘love you, wonnie! breakfast is in the fridge <3’ staring up at him.
if jungwon can count on both hands the number of times he’s seen sunghoon through heeseung, then the number of times he’s seen him on the rickety bench is countless.
without fail, if jungwon is contemplating his life in the middle of the night, sunghoon is there too, smoking his cigarettes.
lately, they’ve evolved from sitting there in silence while sunghoon smokes to asking questions about each other that jungwon would never answer otherwise.
they don’t ever call each other by name, even after their fateful meeting at the coffee shop. sunghoon never says goodbye when he leaves, and he always leaves first.
sometimes, jungwon stays until the sky goes from pitch black to blue to the pink-orange break of sunrise before going home.
sometimes, jungwon goes home right after, heart a little lighter than it was when he first sat down.
“do you ever wish you could leave this life?” sunghoon asks him one night before he lights his cigarette.
jungwon shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs his shoulders.
“that’s why i took this gap year, to think about things. without me and my mom around, heeseung wouldn’t survive the multitude of stabbings and gunshot wounds he gets. mom tells me i should go. take the money dad left behind, go to university far away, become a nurse, a doctor. she says i have a knack for it. she could look after hee while i’m gone.”
sunghoon nods, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pockets and feeling his pockets for his lighter, frowning when he realizes he doesn’t have it.
jungwon pulls his lighter out of his pocket and flips it open for sunghoon, and sunghoon stops, staring at the lighter for a moment before a grin tugs at his lips.
“picking up smoking?”
jungwon shakes his head, putting it away. he doesn’t say anything else about it, and sunghoon doesn’t ask.
another change comes when jungwon starts seeing sunghoon at all the places he goes.
when he’s at the mall shopping, sunghoon will suddenly appear beside him, going through the clothes and frowning, saying he could do much better than this.
“i’m a teenager. let me enjoy my graphic tees and tight jeans.”
their fingers will brush occasionally, and jungwon tries to ignore the lightning that shoots through his body at the fleeting touches.
“wonnie, where were you last night?”
“i was out at the bench, thinking about my life choices. why?” jungwon asks, shifting his phone to his other ear. he was sitting at the café, working his way through a book when heeseung called him.
“oh. i came by last night to visit you, but you were gone.”
“sorry, hee. did you wanna grab lunch or dinner then?”
“yeah, later. i’ll have to take a rain check for now.”
“alright. i’ll see you. be safe.”
“bye, wonnie.”
jungwon doesn’t think anything of it until he asks his mother at dinner if she saw heeseung last night.
“last night? i was off last night, but i didn’t see him. why?”
jungwon blinks a few times before a lie naturally drops from him. “he was supposed to drop by to give me something. i took a long walk last night, so i wasn’t sure if i missed him or if he just forgot.”
“ah, that boy…”
jungwon goes upstairs after finishing the dishes with a heavy heart. heeseung is watching him. jungwon doesn’t blame him. in fact, he should’ve expected it.
what do i do now? jungwon sinks into his bed and stares blankly at the wall. heeseung probably knows by now jungwon's been lying about seeing sunghoon. sunghoon doesn't seem deterred by it, and if anything, jungwon would bet his left kidney he already knew they were being watched.
why didn't he tell me? jungwon blinks a few times before turning his eyes towards his window. moonlight shines through his curtains, spilling onto the floor.
why would he tell me?
jungwon is curled up on his favorite couch in the library, reading through an old book on embalming practices when a shadow passes over him. he doesn’t have time to look before sunghoon sits down next to him, crowding his body with his own. he rests his arm on top of the couch, leaning forward to read over jungwon’s shoulder.
“embalming practices of ancient civilizations? interesting. planning on preserving some bodies? i can supply you with some to practice on,” he whispers against jungwon’s ear, and jungwon feels his face heating up, tips of his ears turning red.
lately, he and sunghoon have been getting closer.
physically, jungwon tacks on in his head.
sunghoon’s taken to corning jungwon in private places, pressing their bodies together for a brief moment before pulling away.
he started with fleeting touches, and when jungwon didn’t stop him, he moved to lacing their fingers together loosely.
when jungwon is reading too intently, eyebrows furrowing, sunghoon ruins his concentration by bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand.
but though they’ve grown closer physically, jungwon still wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything about sunghoon aside from the brand of cigarette he smokes and his coffee order. he’s not even entirely sure what sunghoon’s job is, day or night.
“what’re you thinking about so hard, pet? you’re gonna get permanent wrinkles before you hit your twenties,” sunghoon says, nosing at his hair.
jungwon sighs, leaning back against sunghoon’s chest. an arm snakes around his waist, and suddenly, the normally freezing library is a little too hot.
“wondering if black market organ harvesting is worth getting into.”
sunghoon chuckles quietly. “i know some people. i can ask, if you’re really interested.”
when the weather gets colder, sunghoon gets bolder.
everything he does lights a spark inside jungwon, like a flick of a lighter.
sunghoon consumes his thoughts. jungwon sees him everywhere he goes, and sometimes, he approaches him, and sometimes, he doesn’t, content to watching jungwon go about his daily business.
“have you decided yet, wonnie?” heeseung asks at dinner one night. they’re at jungwon’s favorite diner, a place the whole family used to go when they were kids. jungwon has fond memories of this place.
“on?”
“whether or not you’re gonna take some money and go to uni. get out of… this.” he gestures around him vaguely as jungwon sips on his milkshake. “i know it would make mom happy, to see one of her kids escape.”
jungwon puts his milkshake down and stares at heeseung sitting across from him. a lot has happened since their father passed, passing the business to him.
heeseung looks like he’s aged a decade, and it hasn’t even been a full year since he took over.
“i kinda regret making fun of dad for looking so old. i understand now. god, it’s a wonder he didn’t just have a heart attack and die from stress.”
jungwon shakes his head. “no. if there’s anything i know, i know this family thrives on stress.”
heeseung looks him over, gently pushing his plate of fries over to him. jungwon grabs a handful and shovels them into his mouth, just like when they were kids.
“how’s mom doing?”
“she’s… being mom. not much has changed. as much as she bitched about patching up dad all the time, she misses him.”
a silence stretches between them and jungwon sighs, grabbing his napkin to dab at his mouth.
“i… i kinda wanna get out of here,” he admits quietly.
“tired?”
jungwon shakes his head again, eyes on the table. “i mean like… get out of here. i wanna go to school, be awkward, make friends. live the broke college student life without having to worry about…” jungwon copies heeseung’s vague gesture from earlier, and his brother laughs.
“whenever you’re ready, wonnie. mom’ll be overjoyed to hear it.”
the first time sunghoon kisses jungwon, it’s in the middle of jungwon telling him about the weird medieval torture devices he came across while researching necromancy in the middle ages.
sunghoon leans over to jungwon from his seat beside him at the café and presses their lips together softly. jungwon’s eyes widen, flinching in surprise when he tastes the cigarettes on sunghoon’s lips.
“not sorry. you looked so cute, i couldn’t help myself.”
jungwon blinks rapidly, hands shaking slightly as he digs his fingers into his pants.
“again?” jungwon barely whispers the word, but a slow smile appears on sunghoon’s face.
“you don’t even have to ask.”
the world freezes around them in that moment, and when sunghoon pulls away, jungwon finds himself chasing his warmth, earning a low chuckle from him.
“your friend, the barista’s been watching us. i think you might have some explaining to do after i leave.”
"you really enjoy pineapple on pizza?" sunghoon wrinkles his nose at him, putting out his cigarette on the back of the bench and pocketing the butt.
"you only think that way because you've never actually had it. don't argue with me for the sake of arguing." jungwon has his bent on the bench, resting his cheek on his knee. "plus you smoke. your taste buds are probably broken."
sunghoon gives him an amused grin. "my taste buds are probably broken? is that your professional medical opinion?"
"yes. it is."
"then aren't you obligated to also tell me about the adverse effect it'll have on my health and encourage me to quit? something something cancer stick, something doom on you, and death?"
"it's also my professional medical opinion that you're more likely to die from a gunshot, stabbing, or infection from your line of work.”
sunghoon laughs at him, and jungwon can't help the soft blush on his cheeks and the grin that appears on his face. he leans in closer, brushing the back of his gloved fingers over jungwon's cheek gently.
"cute."
suddenly, jungwon can’t get enough of being close to sunghoon, and it seems sunghoon feels the same way.
jungwon get cornered at the library, pushed against some dusty shelves, sunghoon holding his arms above him with one hand.
jungwon makes noises and sunghoon hushes him, telling him to be quiet or they’ll get caught.
and then sunghoon always disappears, leaving jungwon considerably more disheveled and frustrated.
it’s the only time they hear each other say their names.
jungwon has half the mind to tell heeseung to go fuck himself when he calls him at three in the morning to come help fix up some casualties. his brother's already sent a car to the house, and jungwon grumbles angrily to himself as he shoves supplies into his backpack and leaves through the back door, falling asleep on the way to the safe house.
he's shaken awake by the driver and follows him inside, seeing three or four men strewn out over the living room, including his brother, who seems uninjured for the most part.
"thanks for coming, wonnie."
"you didn't give me much of a choice," he says sarcastically before dropping his backpack and assessing the damage. what did his mom call it? triaging?
jungwon works methodically, listening to heeseung talk behind him.
"eyes to yourself, lee. look at him like that again, and i'll remove your eyeballs with my bare hands," jungwon hears heeseung growl out, reaching to grab the man's neck. jungwon finishes bandaging his leg and doesn't bother looking up.
"is that it? can i go home and sleep now?"
"yeah. thanks again, won." heeseung ruffles his hair again, and jungwon nods, sleepily, stretching his arms above his head as he yawns.
the sun is coming up by the time jungwon trudges up the stairs towards his room, and when he pushes open his door, park sunghoon comes into view, sitting on his bed, covered in blood. he wants to ask him what he's doing there and what happened, but when he opens his mouth, the words that come out instead are, "really? you're getting blood all over my sheets and my blankets."
sunghoon opens his good eye and something resembling a laugh escapes from him. "i'll replace everything for you," he rasps out.
jungwon stands there and stares before motioning for him to scoot to the edge of the bed, dropping his backpack and taking inventory of what he has left before reaching under his bed to pull out a larger kit his mom always leaves fully stocked for him.
when he stands up again, he looks over sunghoon with a frown, taking inventory of his injuries. "black eye. there's a nasty looking gash on your forehead. i'll have to clean that up before i can see if it needs stitches. lip is busted..." the list goes on and on, and jungwon decides to work from the top down.
"were you stabbed? shot?"
sunghoon shakes his head. "most of this blood isn't mine."
of course. of course, most of it isn't his.
jungwon heaves a sigh, continuing to work in silence. his head wound isn't as severe as he thought, so jungwon applies a butterfly bandage and hopes for the best.
"do you want anything for the pain?"
"i'm fine. thanks."
but jungwon leans in and gently presses his lips to the bandages on his head, then his nose, and his uninjured cheek. “a kiss to make it feel better.”
by the time he's finally done, jungwon can barely keep his eyes open, falling onto the empty half of his bed and promptly falling asleep.
sunghoon resists the urge to light a cigarette. instead, he reaches for jungwon with his uninjured hand and gently cards his fingers through the sleeping boy's hair.
soft. just like everything else about him.
when jungwon regains consciousness, sunghoon is long gone. the only traces left of him are his blood-stained sheets and a trash can full of bloodied gauze.
jungwon falls asleep again, and when he wakes up, there's an unmarked box with new sheets and blankets for him at his backdoor.
for the first time since jungwon’s been contemplating his life on the bench, he doesn’t see sunghoon. he chalks it up to him recovering from his injuries.
days turn to weeks.
weeks of wondering why he’s disappointed when he leaves the bench without seeing him.
why the hell am i pining over the enemy? why do i miss him?
what makes him the enemy, though? because he’s killed a bunch of people that have nothing to do with me?
jungwon’s skin itches at the thought.
the first time jungwon genuinely fears for his life, he’s on his way home from the café after meeting some friends. he passes by an alley when a pair of gloved hands reach out and drag him into the shadows, covering his mouth to keep him from calling for help.
jungwon doesn’t even get a chance to struggle before something is pressed to his face, and he passes out.
when he comes to, he’s in a dimly lit hotel room, tied to the bed. fluttering curtains catch his attention, and he spots a figure out on the balcony, the telltale smell of cigarette smoke wafting inside.
jungwon stays still, eyes wide until his suspicions are confirmed, and sunghoon walks inside, a smile appearing on his face when he sees jungwon is awake.
“there’s a sight for sore eyes. promise you’ll be quiet if i take off your gag?”
jungwon narrows his eyes at him but reluctantly nods his head, and sunghoon moves to undo his gag.
he’s dressed in all black today, top few buttons of his dress shirt undone. his sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms until his hands disappear into black, leather gloves.
jungwon watches as he pulls off his gloves with his teeth, dropping them on the nightstand before sitting down next to him, reaching out to gently trace his jawline. “i missed you, jungwon. sorry i’ve been gone for so long. i do unfortunately have a job to do.”
jungwon. he called me by my name. he never calls me by my name. what’s going on?
when the gag is gone, jungwon stretches his jaw with a groan, feeling it pop a few times before it starts aching again.
sunghoon sits down and hands him a bottle of water, realizing a little too late that jungwon’s hands are still tied up.
“open your mouth. i’ll pour some in. can’t untie your hands just yet.”
he eyes sunghoon for a moment before opening his mouth, and sunghoon grins at him before tipping the water.
“if you’re going to kill me, please make it quick.”
sunghoon gasps mockingly at him, putting a hand over his chest. “i’m not going to kill you. but the big bosses do want you dead. they seem to think the best way to get to heeseung is through you. your brother doesn’t like that we’ve been seeing each other.”
something clicks in jungwon’s mind. the night sunghoon came by to get fixed up. heeseung refusing to take no for an answer when he normally wouldn’t bother him.
“did he try to kill you that night or just want to send a message?”
sunghoon laughs, and it’s a sound jungwon’s missed more than he would care to admit.
“i’m not sure, to be honest with you. i did have to go, though. a little bullying doesn’t scare me.”
“why am i here then?”
the dangerous glint is back in sunghoon’s eyes again as he grins, tongue tracing over his canines for a moment.
jungwon shrinks back when sunghoon climbs onto the bed and straddles him, bracing his hand against the headboard and leaning down until their faces are almost touching.
“i never understood the phrase about absence making the heart grow fonder until now. did you miss me, pet?” sunghoon asks softly, grabbing jungwon’s chin to tilt his head up.
“i… i…”
“tell me you don’t want it, jungwon. tell me you don’t want it, and i’ll untie you, and drop you off at home.”
jungwon licks his lips nervously, an action that doesn’t go unmissed by sunghoon. the man above him remains painfully still, waiting for an answer from him.
the longer he’s there, the more heat jungwon can feel pooling in his stomach, and something inside him threatens to snap.
yes, sunghoon is attractive. yes, he’s admitted to nearly maiming his brother dozens of times just to see jungwon, and the thought of it strokes a tiny part of jungwon’s ego.
“well? i won’t ask you again.”
jungwon sees the muscle rippling in his arms with the sheer willpower he’s using to keep himself still.
look at how bad he wants you, a voice in the back of his head says smugly. it stokes at his ego until jungwon can feel something sparking inside him.
“jungwon…”
and that’s all it takes, a whisper of his name falling from sunghoon’s lips, and jungwon snaps, body on fire.
“i want it. please, sunghoon-”
and when sunghoon descends on him, jungwon knows there’s no escaping this alive.
tell them white lies to make them feel better. to give them hope.
“are you happy, sunghoon?”
“no. i won’t be happy until you’re mine and only mine.”
jungwon finds himself sitting across from heeseung in his office, an office that used to belong to their dad.
heeseung looks more tired than jungwon’s ever seen him, but he can’t bring himself to worry too much for him.
“park sunghoon.”
jungwon waits. heeseung rubs at his face with his hands, sighing heavily.
“my people have been saying they’ve seen you two together quite often.”
he continues to wait quietly, waiting for heeseung’s question.
“is it true?”
“yeah.”
heeseung’s eyes go cold as he looks up at jungwon, frown pulling down at the corners of his lips.
“is he threatening you?”
“no.”
the two stare at each other. jungwon’s not going to volunteer any information, and he knows heeseung doesn’t know what questions to ask.
“are you going to tell me it’s not safe? am i ever really safe at any moment in my life?”
“safer than when you’re in the company of someone who’s killed a countless number of people.”
actually, i don’t think there’s a safer place to be. what about you? jungwon muses, but he keeps the thought to himself.
“jungwon, please. i’m just worried about you. he’s using you to get to me.”
jungwon nods.
“ah. did he give you the i’m a bad influence speech?” sunghoon’s sitting next to him on the bench as jungwon stares off into the darkness again.
“no. the i’m just worried about you because i’m your big brother speech.”
“if i really were a bad influence, we would be sharing cigarettes by now.”
“you tried.” jungwon pulls the lighter out of his pocket and flips it open and closed a few times before replacing it in his pocket.
“i did no such thing. i left it for you just in case i forget mine and need a light.”
“you trust me to be your light?”
sunghoon puffs quietly at his smoke for a moment before breathing out slowly.
“you’re the brightest thing in this darkness, love.”
the first time someone dies in jungwon’s arms, he feels a piece of himself die with them.
his phone rings in the middle of the night, and when he groans, squinting at his screen, he doesn’t expect to see his mother’s name and face.
“mom? are you okay?”
“hey, wonnie. i just got off my shift at the hospital. there’s a car that’s been following me since i left. i’ve been trying to lose them but…”
jungwon sits up, heart beating out of his chest. “turn on your location, mom. did you call heeseung?”
“i called him first, but he didn’t answer.”
“i’ll try and get a hold of him. don’t stop moving.”
“i know. i love you, jungwon.”
“… i love you, too, mom.”
then the line goes dead.
jungwon immediately calls heeseung, growling in frustration when his call goes to voicemail.
“for once in our goddamn lives we actually need you instead, answer your damn phone!” jungwon calls him four more times before giving up and pulling up his mother’s location on his own phone.
he watches her circle the streets, anxiety spiking when she stops a beat too long.
jungwon sends a string of texts to heeseung and calls him two more times.
this his mom stops moving.
jungwon holds his breath.
after five minutes of no movement, jungwon grabs his backpack and bolts out the door. he follows his gps, running for life.
it takes him nearly ten minutes on foot, looking around frantically when he sees their dots overlap.
“mom?” he runs towards an alley and turns, blood draining from his face when he sees a familiar body on the ground.
“no. no. no. mom!”
he dives for her, wincing at the large bloom on blood on her back, sitting her up against him.
“…won?” she blinks blearily at him and forces a smile to her face. jungwon can feel her shivering in his arms, digging her fingers into his wrist.
“baby,” she whispers, “i’m… n-not g-gonn-na ma-make it.”
jungwon feels the tears pooling in his eyes, but he holds them back the best he can. “you’re gonna be fine, mom. don’t worry. heeseung’s coming. he’s coming. you’re gonna be fine.”
she snorts, but the snort quickly turns into a cough that wracks her entire body, and when she goes to wipe at her mouth, it comes away stained with blood.
jungwon tightens his grip on her, gently laying his cheek against the top of her head. the two of them don’t speak for a few moments, listening to the low hum of the neon lights in the alley.
“i’m so… proud of you, jungwon. you and your brother. things… could’ve been better… but… i’m so proud…”
“you’re gonna be okay, mom. heeseung’ll get here, i’ll clean you up for once while he makes fun of you. you’re gonna help me move in at uni, and when i finally get into medical school, you’re gonna be at my white coat ceremony. they’re gonna be calling me doctor. i’m gonna save lives.”
she hums weakly, closing her eyes. “you’ve… thought about it… huh?”
“all the time. you still need to teach me all your shortcuts and tricks.”
his mother hacks out another laugh, nuzzling her face into his arm. “promise me… you won’t… be an asshole doctor.”
“you’re gonna be fine, mom,” jungwon repeats, but at this point, his words sound so hollow, it feels as if he never spoke in the first place.
silence falls over them once more, and as the seconds tick, jungwon feels the life leaving his mother’s body. she feels too light, and jungwon clings to her, desperate to keep her grounded.
“jungwon?”
“hmm?”
“i love you.” his mother is shaking violently in his arms now, and jungwon knows it won’t be too much longer.
“i love you, too, mom. so much.”
a ghost of a smile appears on her face before she shudders and finally goes limp in his arms.
jungwon doesn’t remember how long he sat there, holding onto his mother’s body, tears streaming down his face and mixing with blood, dirt, and whatever else.
he thinks he remembers heeseung’s voice, hands prying his arms off of her, heeseung picking him up and carrying him on his back.
there’s a car ride at some point, and suddenly, jungwon’s next lucid memory is sitting in the kitchen of one of the safe houses, steaming mug of coffee next to him.
all these years and heeseung still doesn’t remember that i hate coffee, jungwon thinks, numbly reaching out for the mug and taking a sip. it burns his mouth, but he doesn’t taste the bitterness.
he’s still covered in blood, dirt, and grime, but none of the blood is his.
he hears shuffling on his right and turns his head slowly to see heeseung leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
“how’re you holding up?”
jungwon shrugs. “i’m not.” he blinks a few times, and the longer he stares at him, the angrier he gets. “where were you?”
heeseung freezes for a moment before he looks down at his feet.
jungwon hurls the cup of hot coffee at heeseung’s feet, watching him flinch as it shatters.
“where the fuck were you?” jungwon hisses.
heeseung’s silence only fuels his rage.
“the one goddamn time we need you for once, you’re MIA. mom and i are at your every beck and call twenty-four seven, but when we need you?”
jungwon wants to cry. he wants to scream until his throat gives out. he wants to claw at his chest until he digs his own beating heart out and make it stop.
“if you had any doubt about who did this,” heeseung says softly, dropping something on the table for jungwon before turning to leave him alone with his thoughts.
jungwon blindly reaches for the object, fingers closing around something cold, metal, and broken.
when he finally opens his palm and looks at it, he wants to vomit.
a bullet covered in blood- his mother’s blood- with psh engraved on the side.
his mother’s funeral is a private one. a few of the overnight staff from the hospital attend, and they only speak to jungwon because they’ve never seen heeseung before in their lives.
jungwon stands at her grave, staring at the headstone. they buried her next to their father, and he hopes that she gets to jab more needles into him in the afterlife.
he hasn’t spoken to heeseung since he dropped the crushed bullet on the kitchen table.
his brother more or less told him he would be moving to a safe house in the city closer to him, and jungwon didn’t argue.
he couldn’t stand being inside his childhood home anymore, not with everything he knows now.
jungwon’s dreams die with his mother. all he has now are his hopes and heeseung.
it takes a month before jungwon finds himself on the bench again late one night, when heeseung’s watchful eye finally calms down. he doesn’t even turn his head when he hears him sit down on the other side.
the silence between them is deafening.
“are you happy? i’m staying. i’m stuck in this life now.” jungwon doesn’t get an immediate response, listening to the sounds of the lighter followed by an exhale.
“no. i’ve told you this. i won’t be happy until you’re mine.”
a humorless laugh escapes jungwon’s lips. he lets his head fall back, eyes staring at the night sky. he wonders if one of the stars is his mom looking down at him, tell him to get on with his life.
“i didn’t kill her,” sunghoon says.
another beat of silence.
“i know.”
sunghoon raises an eyebrow, finally looking at jungwon. the dark circles under his eyes are threatening to take over his face. in the span of a month, jungwon looks like he’s aged ten years.
“then you know who did.”
“i do. i also know you were planning to kill her, too, but he beat you to it.”
he's starting to hate the sound of silence when sunghoon says nothing in reply.
and for the first time, jungwon leaves the bench first, disappearing into the night.
then do whatever you can to fix them.
jungwon realizes belatedly, the person he should’ve been trying to fix is himself. he’s the only one to blame, letting his injuries get infected and fester, even metaphorically.
he has a gun pointed sunghoon, who has a knife pressed against heeseung’s throat again.
it’s been years, but their song and dance hasn’t changed.
until today.
jungwon points his gun down and shoots.
heeseung howls, falling to the ground as sunghoon releases his grip, clutching his leg.
stepping over his bleeding brother, jungwon points it at sunghoon.
a wry smile adorns sunghoon's face as he stares down the barrel of a gun, jungwon on the other side. "i told you i'd die for you," sunghoon says, dropping his knife.
jungwon grins softly and pulls the trigger.
an empty click reaches both their ears, and sunghoon visibly relaxes for a moment.
“how unfortunate.”
but then jungwon points his gun at his leg and shoots, sending a string of curses into the air from both him and heeseung.
jungwon squats down and smiles at heeseung.
“that’s for killing mom and thinking i didn’t know it was you.” he pats his cheek while heeseung glares at him before getting up and moving over to sunghoon.
he’s in pain, but he can’t stop the smile on his face when he meets eyes with jungwon.
“and that, was for not killing heeseung before he killed my mom.” jungwon leans over and presses a gentle kiss to sunghoon’s lips, sunghoon smiling into the kiss when he hears heeseung cursing in the background.
“have fun, you two. i’m leaving.”
their protests fall on deaf ears as jungwon turns to leave.
but sometimes, his mom’s voice echoes, it’s hard to care when you’ve bled out.