Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The scent of blood hung heavily in the musty warehouse, invading Jongho’s senses and settling inside him like an old friend. The screams echoing through the isolated halls were desperate and pleading - a prayer to an unforgiving god that would not show mercy. 

Jongho toed boredly at the corpse next to him, frowning slightly when blood he hadn’t seen clung to the expensive leather. 

In front of him, Hongjoong was grinning wildly at the man strapped to a chair. Their captain truly looked like an unhinged demon with his two-toned black and white hair standing wildly in each direction, the white side stained pink and red with blood. Jongho could see the deep, dark bags under his eyes from the past few day’s lack of sleep. His jacket had been discarded next to a rapidly expanding pool of blood, his sleeves rolled up to above his elbows to prevent staining.

It didn’t help in the slightest.

Hongjoong’s hands were covered in blood, a pair of dripping pliers hanging loosely in his grip. The front of his shirt was covered in a spray of red and his forehead was similarly smeared from where he’d wiped his hair out of his eyes a moment ago. 

The screaming and pleading man - lacking all ten toes and nine fingernails - wailed miserably as his ninth nail landed between his mutilated feet. 

Jongho looked him up and down, trying to gauge if he truly didn’t know anything or if he was just incredibly resistant to torture. The electric cables and soaked washcloths, evidence of their previous attempts, hadn’t yielded any results. Wooyoung, hair dyed in a similar fashion as Hongjoongs on a horizontal line, was fidgeting in the corner with the rest of their tools, muttering about the man’s lack of response. 

Hongjoong dropped to his haunches, turning those bloodlusted eyes onto the man who was practically doubled over in pain. 

“Just tell us what we want to know and we can make this stop.”

The man refused to move. 

Hongjoong sighed, dropping the pliers next to the pile of toes and nails. 

“He’s all yours, Jjong. Hwa is going to kill us.”

Jongho snorted, making his way over to the table next to the bound man and placing the steel briefcase down gently. He popped the locks, flipping it open deftly and pulling out a pair of sterile gloves stashed inside. 

“Is our baby still afraid of a little blood?” Wooyoung teased, coming over to stand beside Hongjoong. 

“Insinuate I’m afraid of blood again and I’ll perform an appendectomy on you without anaesthesia,” Jongho replied coolly as he finished gloving himself. “This shit is expensive and incredibly unstable if exposed to contaminants. Unless you want to explain to Seonghwa why an entire vial of the stuff went bad, I’ll keep gloving up.”

Hongjoong slapped the younger man across the back of his head in scolding. A small smile tugged at the corner of Jongho’s lips at the action. 

The clear vial inside the container, smaller than his thumb and costing more than a house, was next to be lifted from the briefcase. Jongho gently picked up the accompanying syringe and uncapped it with his teeth, ignoring Wooyoung’s mocking protests for the action. He tipped the bottle downward, pooling the liquid at the bottom and dipped the syringe inside to pull out his dose. 

The man didn’t even flinch when Jongho stuck the needle into his neck with trained precision.

Hongjoong seemed to deflate as Jongho packed up, wheeling the table with the vial far away from the injected man.

“Hwa isn’t going to like this,” Hongjoong muttered, waiting for Jongjo to join him. “You know how holy he is about that stash.”

“You’re the one that suggested it!” Wooyoung defended, looking at the blood-soaked man in surprise. “Don’t act like you didn’t almost pop an artery after the 36th hour.”

“Boys,” Jongho warned, rolling his shoulders. “I suggest you stop fighting over whose dick is going to be on Seonghwa’s chopping block and start asking questions. The serum won’t last long.”

That seemed to snap Hongjoong back into action and he grabbed the back of the man’s hair, lifting his head upward. It almost reminded Jongho of a mockery of a lover’s pose, the way Hongjoong towered over the man and pulled his gaze to the smiling demon. 

“Tell me why you’ve been infringing on our territory,” Hongjoong hissed, tugging at the man’s hair. The man in question yelped, eyes unsettled.

“We’re looking for something,” he answered slowly as if he was talking through a mouth full of peanut butter. 

“What?” Hongjoong demanded again. 

Jongho wanted to stop the older man, to remind him that force wasn’t needed with the serum in the man’s body. But he didn’t feel like being at the other end of the demon’s ire.

“A weakness,” their captive mumbled. “We need to find his weakness. They said he has one here.”

Jongho and Wooyoung locked eyes. 

A weakness was any member’s worst nightmare. And unfortunately, all of them had at least one. But Seonghwa… Seonghwa had recently acquired a massive weakness that only the closest people to him knew about. 

“Who is he,” Hongjoong asked through clenched teeth, reminding Jongho that he could be anyone.

“Your leader.”

Or not.

“How do you know he has one?” Hongjoong demanded with a hiss. 

“Dunno,” the man replied groggily. “I don’t get that information. I just do the job.”

The last word was incredibly slurred.

“Who told you to look into him? Into his weakness?”

“My boss,” the man said through a thick tongue. “He said she -” 

The man suddenly gurgled, tensing up as his muscles spasmed. His mouth contorted into a silent scream before slumping into Hongjoong’s grasp.

“For fuck’s sake he was just starting to talk!” Hongjoong screamed, punching the corpse in the face and making the dead weight fall backwards with such force that the chair tipped over. 

“That’s all you get, Joong,” Jongho said lowly. “It’s a miracle we got that much out of him. I’ve had times where they die in less than ten seconds.” He quirked his lips up. “You two must not have damaged him as much as you thought.”

Jongho swiftly evaded the jabs from both men as he laughed. 

“Endurance or not,” Wooyoung interjected, running a hand through his hair. “We’ve got a problem. They’re looking for Hwa’s weakness. And as adorable as I am, I doubt I’m the weakness they’re looking for.” 

“Which means we all know who they’re going to go after,” Jongho deadpanned. “Bastard said something about a she before he expired.”

“He’s going to kill us,” Hongjoong surmised, tugging at his roots and smearing more blood into his hair. “How the fuck are we going to protect her? She fought him over the apartment for three months and still hasn’t agreed to have a bodyguard. How the fuck do we tell him that his stubborn-as-hell girlfriend is in danger?”

“We don’t do anything,” Jongho said slowly. “You are going to tell him, oh mighty captain, while I go check on her and Wooyoung can do a perimeter sweep. Then we can get Yeosang to hack the security cameras if he hasn’t already and put out an alert for any suspicious activity.”

Hongjoong just gave Jongho a deadly glare. 

xOxxOx

Pulling up in front of the lavish apartment complex, Jongho rested his head against the headrest, mentally preparing for the encounter that lay before him. His boss, and friend, had a peculiar taste in women. One that made Jongho want to strangle the older. Especially when she defied him at every turn, put herself in danger and turned down an apartment that cost millions. It had taken Seonghwa three months of convincing - and some well-timed threats to her life courtesy of Wooyoung - to get her to move into the building.

She was still snappy about it.

Jongho exited his vehicle, running a calculating eye over everything. He knew Wooyoung and Yeosang would be doing most of the security sweep, but taking in the premises was so ingrained in him. Even when he was wrist-deep inside a patient in the emergency room, his eyes flickered over every movement that came from outside. 

So his eyes scanned the beautiful bushes lining the pathways and took in the gentlemen that opened the doors for him. They washed over the immaculate entrance to the apartment complex, the modern interior gleaming. He didn’t relax even when he stepped inside the elevator, swiping the access card that allowed him into any crevice of the building and pressing the penthouse’s number. 

The doors slid open, revealing the interior of the penthouse - all warm leather and antique wood that Seonghwa loved. He strolled inside, hand in his suit pocket as he glided over to the kitchen. A quick glance told him everything was in order.

Seonghwa’s girlfriend was likely still asleep despite the time if he knew anything about her schedule. Which meant he had more than enough time -

A startled yelp pulled him back to reality as he turned the corner into the kitchen, along with a burning on his chest. 

His hands had dashed out and grabbed the intruder in front of him, digging his nails into the fluffy fabric.

His mind screeched to an abrupt halt at the wide, innocent, terrified eyes staring back at him. A round face with plush lips and messy hair stood in front of him, decidedly not his boss’s girlfriend. Her eyes were still somewhat misty from sleep and Jongho could see faint traces of pillow creases on her cheek. Despite the bedhead and clear disorientation, she was pretty. 

It took only moments for their little bubble to pop, for the woman to scream. Jongho somehow didn’t see it coming when she kneed him in the groin and shot out a powerful punch to his jaw that he only barely avoided. He doubled over in pain as she ripped herself out of his grip and he felt a wet blow to the back of his head before he fell to the floor. The cup that had been smashed into him and the remaining coffee that hadn’t been spilt over him the first time created a halo around him. 

“Who the hell are you?” The woman screamed from behind him. 

Jongho closed his eyes, breathing out heavily as his fist clenched. Coffee dripped off of him almost tauntingly, dripping slowly onto the floor as he breathed through the pain and embarrassment. 

He was never going to live this down. 

Never. 

Sorcha would tell Seonghwa. Seonghwa would tell Hongjoong and of course, San and Mingi would be in the room when it happened. So it would eventually lead to Wooyoung. And once Wooyoung knew, everyone else would know. 

The Bear had been taken down by a woman in a fuzzy robe and mismatched fluffy socks. 

“Who the hell are you ?” He shot back, groaning as he turned onto his ass. He felt a poke in his chest and he lifted his eyes up to the woman to find her holding the end of a broom to him.

“Don’t move or you’re getting hit over the head with the stick,” she hissed. 

Her robe had fallen open to reveal long pyjama pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. He couldn’t help but stare at her for a second, alarm bells going off in his mind. 

He was so fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. 

Because despite the murderous intent in his opponent’s eyes, the only thing he could think of was how much he wanted her. After all, it wasn’t every day a woman kicked his ass. Seonghwa was going to give him shit for years. After all, Jongho had been the one to tease his boss endlessly for falling head over balls for a woman the day they met.

“Who are you?” She demanded again, poking the broom at him. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He raised his hands slowly, cringing at the coffee stains he could see on his immaculate shirt. 

“I’m Choi Jongho,” he said flatly, staring at her with dark eyes. “And you’re the one that isn’t supposed to be here.”

She visibly ground her teeth, fingers tightening on the broom. 

If Jongho wanted to, he could have ripped the “weapon” from her hands with ease and had her pinned beneath him. But the part of his brain that wasn’t already planning how to make her submit to him was rational enough to remind him that it would be a bad idea to further antagonise her. 

“My friend lives here,” she spat, poking at him again. “And unless you -”

She paused, taking him in. He could see the moment when she somewhat put two and two together. The suit, the access to the apartment…

She dropped the broom with a frankly adorable noise, stepping back slightly. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry Seonghwa. I really didn’t mean to.” 

Jongho chuckled, shaking a bit of coffee from his hands before standing. “Luckily for you, sweetheart, I’m not Seonghwa. As I said, I’m Choi Jongho, one of Seonghwa’s friends and Sorcha’s doctor.”

The poor woman in front of him was crimson. 

“I… I’m so sorry. I was still half asleep and then there was someone in the apartment and I -”

Jongho held a hand up to stop the rambling. “It’s quite alright.” He paused, looking at her with a tilted head. “But what are you doing here? Sleepover?”

Seonghwa should have let them know if someone else was going to be at the apartment. The woman in front of him could thank her lucky stars he had been distracted enough by her not to use his usual deadly force. 

“I, uh, I’m staying here for a while. I just started a new job here and haven’t found a place to stay yet.”

Shit. 

Seonghwa definitely should have told them about that. There was no way he didn’t know, not with the amount of surveillance he had in and around the apartment.

Jongho started running every possible scenario through his head. She was a problem. A big one. If their rivals were targeting Seonghwa’s weakness, she was just as big of a weakness. His boss’s lover’s friend. Definitely someone that the woman who held their boss’s heart and balls would likely commit crimes for if anything happened to her. 

A liability. 

Jongho ran a hand through his hair. He would deal with this later. 

“Where’s Sorcha?” He asked, eyeing the decidedly empty living space. 

“Still asleep, I can -”

“No need,” Jongho dismissed, pulling at his tie. “Just tell her to call me when she’s awake.”

xOxxOx

As soon as Jongho was back in his car, he discarded his ruined jacket in the plastic-lined clothes cover that was permanently in the back of his trunk. As much as he would have liked to get rid of the soaked clothes, he just grabbed a liner from the back and fit it over the driver's seat. They were designed to protect the car from far worse liquids.

Dialling Seonghwa’s number as he pulled away from the apartment, Jongho set course for the hospital. 

“Speak,” Seonghwa said in greeting. Jongho flinched at the sound - knowing the older was only short like this when he was in a bad mood.

“Good morning to you too,” Jongho sighed.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Jongho,” Seonghwa hissed. “We have five dead in a shootout that the police are looking into and we had two territory breaches last night. My fuse is short.”

“It’s about to become shorter,” Jongho advised, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “You remember the trespassers we caught the other day?”

“How could I forget?” Seonghwa snarked back.

“They’re both dead.”

There was an uncharacteristic silence from the other end of the line. Jongho took it as an opening.

“Judging by the fact that you haven’t started screaming at me for wasting your time with information you already knew, Hongjoong hasn’t paid you a visit yet.” Jongho rolled his shoulders, flinching at the slight sting on the back of his head. He would have to get that checked out. 

“None of the usual methods were working to get any information out of them. One was already dead by the time I got there. The other one wasn’t far behind. He had hours judging by the blood loss.”

“Your point?” Seonghow growled. 

“My point is that if we were going to get anything useful from them, we needed to do it quickly. The call was made to use some of the serum.”

The silence was even more terrifying than a cursing crusade. 

“Did you get anything useful from it?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The boss’s voice was deadly calm when he answered. “Elaborate.”

“Do you have anything valuable around you?”

“San and Mingi can protect the valuables. Now tell me.”

Jongho sighed, fingering the volume button on his steering wheel to lower the volume. “They’re looking for ways to get to you,” Jongho started carefully. “They’ve been sent to look for a weakness.”

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. “That’s what you call unfortunately useful information? Jongho, I expected -”

“They’re looking for Sorcha.”

Jongho was glad he was on the other end of a phone line when he heard the distinct sound of a chair crashing and the expected string of curses. Something shattered on the other end and he could hear Mingi and San trying to calm their boss down.

“Did you just fucking say that they’re after Sorcha?” Seonghwa hissed into the receiver, out of breath from the anger. 

Jongho cleared his throat. “Yes and no. They’ve been given a tip-off that you have a major weakness in this area. I don’t know if they specifically know about her, or if they just have an inkling, but it’s safe to say that she’s their target. I can’t think of any other weakness you could have. I’ve already put Wooyoung on the perimeter and told Yeosang to analyse any suspicious activity around the building. He’s doing some of that tech magic as we speak and will let us know if anything is off. He’s also got access to the feeds from the blocks surrounding the building, so he’ll be able to tell if the bubble is still safe.”

Jongho could almost hear Seonghwa deflate in relief. “So she’s not in immediate danger?”

“Not at the moment,” Jongho hummed. “But what worries me is that someone leaked this information. Very few people know about her.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this. I’ll put Yunho on it.”

Jongho hummed in agreement. 

“So, speaking of liabilities,” Jongho said casually, cringing once more at the sight of the coffee stains on his shirt. “Do you know that your girlfriend has a friend staying with her?”

There was a pause from Seonghwa. “How do you know this? I haven’t told anyone that Sorcha has company at the apartment.”

“First of all, you should have told us about this, Seonghwa. Having a civilian there is a liability and a half. Secondly, I met her this morning,” Jongho replied casually. “I went to check on Sorcha and bumped into her friend instead.” He couldn’t help the cringe in his voice as he spoke. 

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more to the story?” Seonghwa’s voice was tinged with an annoying lightness. 

“I was caught off guard,” Jongho mumbled, not even trying to deny what would eventually come out. “She’s got a punch on her, that’s for sure.” Jongho absently rubbed at the area where the jab had briefly landed. It had been practically a tap in comparison to what he was used to, but it sent impure signals straight down his spine. 

Seonghwa laughed heartily. “Did our baby bear get bested by a civilian?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Jongho snapped, irked by the use of his old nickname. 

Seonghwa chuckled. “Nah, I like it. Especially since you got beaten by a woman.”

“Don’t act as if Sorcha didn’t stick a stiletto in you when you first met,” Jongho retorted. “This one went straight for the balls.”

“Ouch,” Seonghwa sympathised. 

“So, uh,” Jongho chewed his lip, practically forcing the words out. “Can I have her?”

He could practically see the grin the elder had on the other end. “Oh did getting kicked in the balls make you lose them to her?”

“I remember you coming home covered in blood and saying you found the woman you wanted to marry,” Jongho retorted. “At least I don’t have any bloody injuries that I can see.” 

“That I did,” Seonghwa sighed. “If she’s anything like her friend, good luck. There will be bruises involved.”

Jongho smirked as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. “Oh I know. But that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? Getting them to submit.”

Seonghwa chuckled in agreement. “Oh indeed. Just protect the family jewels - they have a tendency to be in the crossfire when you’re first getting to know them.”

xOxxOx

Jongho didn’t have to worry about his family jewels. No, he didn’t have to worry about himself at all. Not when, three days later, he heard a familiar, pleading voice shouting his name over the bustle of the ER. Sorcha was running along a gurney, blood smeared across her face and neck, desperately calling out to him. He dropped the chart in his hand immediately, rushing over to where the EMT’s were rushing into one of the bays. 

He almost froze when he saw the familiar face that had been terrifying and mortified that morning in the apartment lying on the bed. She was unmoving, eyes closed and bleeding from a chest wound that was being plugged by one of Sorcha’s fingers.

“What happened,” he demanded, pulling on his gloves and giving the woman beneath him an initial check. 

“We were on our way back from the coffee shop around the corner of my apartment,” Sorcha explained, trembling. “We go shot at right in front of the entrance. I... She pushed me. And she hit her head.”

Jongho grimaced at the last part as the nurse cut open the woman’s shirt and squirted gel on her. 

“Are you hurt?” Jongho asked, taking the ultrasound wand and guiding it over the bloody chest beneath him. He sighed in relief when he didn’t see any initial damage to vital structures - an entire miracle considering the wound location just above her left breast. 

“Do I look hurt?” Sorcha snapped as the nurse wiped the gel away. 

“No, but Seonghwa will kill me if I don’t ask. Dana, we need an OR, now. If that bullet moves too much, she’s dead or her arm gets paralysed. I don’t think either is an option for us.” 

The nurse ran to the telephone on the wall, dialling the OR. 

“Sorcha. You’re going to keep that finger in her until we get to the OR. Get on the bed and don’t move. We can’t risk any blood loss. Do you know her type?”

Sorcha laughed through the tears in her eyes as she manoeuvred to sit on the gurney. “You are very much her type, but I don’t think now is the time for that.”

Jongho felt a muscle feather in his jaw. “Blood type.” 

“Shit, sorry,” She said wincing, “It’s O… Positive I think.”

Jongho sighed. “At least it’s positive. We have a good stock of it and no need to dip into the true universal donors.” He ripped the dirty gloves off him just as the nurse put down the receiver. 

“OR is full,” the nurse informed him, wincing. “We don’t have room.”

Jongho cursed, looking down at the unconscious woman. The longer he waited, the worse her injuries would be. Not to mention the long-term effects. Ordinarily, he would just scowl and accept it. But in this case…

“We’re going downstairs,” Jongho decided, already dreading the scolding Yunho would give him. The nurse grimaced, but nodded, holding open the curtain as Jongho wheeled his patient out.

No one stopped him as he moved them on his own, being casually blind to his movements.

Because downstairs was the real hospital.

Everything aboveground had been purchased and presented to the world as a top medical centre of which Jongho was silently the largest shareholder. But beneath the basement, a whole complex sublevel had been constructed to provide medical care to their gang. It had several ORs and was stocked to the brim with everything they could need at any time. All the equipment and supplies were meticulously purchased under the radar by Yeosang - whose magical technical touch had gotten them through four different hospital audits. 

Everyone in the ER, and most of the hospital staff, were either in some way affiliated with the gang or were somewhat in the loop. They always had a small skeleton staff on standby in the sublevels - precisely for occasions like this.

Only usually a patient wouldn’t come in via the front door. Usually, they’d use the sublevel entrance - leaving no trace of their existence. 

Yes, both Yunho and Yeosang were going to kill him. 

The moment the elevator doors opened to the sublevel, Jongho started shouting orders at the staff - calling for equipment and room prep. 

“Get met the portable scanners - we need to see if she has a head injury. Yoona, if she does, get one of the neuros while I operate.”

They fell into a quiet practiced routine that was only broken when Jongho commanded Sorcha to remove her finger from her friend’s wound before one of the nurses filled the gap herself. Sorcha had to be held back by one of the burly guards when they wheeled her friend away. 

By the end of the surgery, Jongho was tired, hungry and developing several headaches. He rolled his neck as he exited the OR, intent on finding the nearest horizontal surface when Sorcha grabbed him.

“Is she okay, what happened?” Sorcha was cleaned up, hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing an oddly familiar hoodie.

“She alive?”

Jongho sighed, looking to the side to see Seonghwa and Yunho strolling towards him. Both were dressed in immaculate suits, Seonghwa’s a pitch black and Yunho’s a deep brown that matched his hair. The tall lawyer gave him a reassuring nod, though his lips were pressed together tightly.

“She’s okay,” Jongho confirmed, pushing past his little crowd to collapse onto the chairs. He’d been tired at the beginning of his shift - courtesy of their inner circle’s escapades the previous evening - and had intended to hand off any difficult cases to his colleagues. He had not expected to rush into surgery with a woman he had spent three days trying to get out of his head.

“Okay? Okay? Give us something more, you little shit. What counts as okay?” Jongho sent Sorcha a death glare that he would ordinarily keep hidden. Seonghwa, quite aware of what usually followed that gaze, put a hesitant hand on his girlfriend’s arm. She just shrugged him off, standing over Jongho as if she were a teacher scolding her student. 

“What happened? Details.”

“First of all,” Jongho growled, not bothering to move his head from where it was tilted against the wall. “Watch your tone. I can go straight back in there and make sure she doesn’t walk out of here.”

Seonghwa knew how empty of a threat his venom was - none of them would hurt innocents if they had the choice. But Sorcha was still new and uninitiated into the world she’d gotten herself tangled in. The last time she’d seen any of them with a look like the one Jongho was giving her, she’d been covered in someone else’s blood. So she just looked at him with wide eyes.

“Secondly,” Jongho continued, running a hand over his face, “when I say she’s okay, I mean she’s perfectly okay. No damage to the head that we could see on scans - she even started waking up on the table. And whatever guardian angel is looking out for her is fucking good at their job. That bullet was so perfectly placed we should start looking for signs of the Messiah. She’ll take some time to heal and be stiff and sore for a while, but she’ll recover completely. Six weeks max.”

Sorcha eyed Jongho carefully before turning to Seonghwa. “This wasn’t you, right? You weren’t trying to force me into anything again, right? You wouldn’t do that to me?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow while Yunho sat down next to Jongho, throwing the younger an amused smile.

“You think I’d do this?”

“You had Wooyoung stalking me for weeks so I’d move into the apartment! So yes, it’s highly likely.”

“You’d never be in real danger if it was one of my schemes,” Seonghwa rejected flatly, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her body flush with his. “That bullet wouldn’t have come anywhere near you if it was me. We may play our games darling, but while there’s the illusion of danger, you’re perfectly safe. Unless you ask otherwise,” he said with a smirk. 

“Please get a room you two,” Yunho begged. “We don’t need you going at it in the hallway.”

“Especially not in my hospital,” Jongho added.

Seonghwa smirked at the younger men before claiming his girlfriend’s lips in a passionate kiss. 

“That’s my cue to get the hell out of here,” Jongho sighed. “I assume you’re here to help with the legal fuckup this is going to cause,” Jongho inquired of Yunho, ignoring the gasps and mewls Seonghwa was drawing out of his girl. 

“Yup. We’ve got a cleanup and a half to do. Yeosang is already looking into the best course of action.”

Jongho winced. “Sorry about that. The normal OR was full and Seonghwa would have had my head if I let Sorcha’s friend die.”

“Got that right,” their head said against his girlfriend’s neck. 

Jongho and Yunho shared a long-suffering look, quite used to their boss’s antics. He cleared his throat, trying to break the couple apart. 

“So what are we going to do about this? Once she gets out I mean? The apartment is no longer safe, obviously. And from what I could tell she has nowhere else to go.”

Luckily that drew the couple apart and Seonghwa cleared his throat. “Sorcha, of course, is coming to stay with me. No ands, ifs or buts about it. You’re coming with me. I’m not letting you get shot at like a common criminal. As for the other one… I don’t know. At this point, we should separate them for safety.”

“I’m right here!” Sorcha protested loudly.

“And completely uninformed about what it takes to be me,” Seonghwa advised gently, placing a kiss on the side of her head. “We know what has to be done to keep up your safety.”

Sorcha grumbled but relented, raising an expectant brow at him. “All right, all mighty mafia man. What are you going to do with her if we’re supposed to be separated?”

“Let her live at the other complex,” Yunho interjected, playing with the top of his tie. “You’ll be living with Seonghwa, San, Mingi and me. The other complex we own is Jongho, Hongjoong, Wooyoung and Yeosang. She can room with them to ensure her safety. But you’ll have to tell her about most of what you know for that to work, naturally. Do you think she’s trustworthy?”

Sorcha grimaced. “Sure she’s trustworthy. This one had a full history and stalker set pulled up before he allowed her to move in with me. But I really…” She looked over at Seonghwa hesitantly. “I really didn’t want to drag her into this.”

Seonghwa smiled ruefully. “She got dragged in the moment that bullet touched her. Now we get to see if she sinks or swims.”

Jongho really didn’t like the sentiment of that statement, but ignored it. “Let me go see how she’s doing. Sorcha, would you like to join me?”

She nodded eagerly, untangling herself from her man and tiptoeing after Jongho. Yunho tipped his head at the pair as they set off, staying behind with Seonghwa to discuss something.

xOxxOx

Jongho made his way down the sterile halls, rolling his tired shoulders. He was far more stiff than he was supposed to be - courtesy of the multiple bodyslams he’d had to perform the previous night. As Yunho would always say - no rest for the wicked. Even if the wicked in question had to get up and go to a normal job to keep up their front. At least Yunho and Yeosang could go sit behind a desk. 

Jongho opened the door to the room he’d designated as Sorcha’s friend’s, eyeing the monitors and drips and beeps. 

He'd been entirely honest when he told Sorcha that her friend was lucky. Had the bullet been shifted even slightly, she'd have sustained massive blood loss, several months of rehabilitation for her arm and potentially life-altering damage to her thoracic cavity. Instead, the bullet lodged itself perfectly in-between major vessels and nerves and most of her recovery would be speedy. She'd have stiffness and pain, but she'd gotten shot. It was a miracle that was all she was going to have. 

Sorcha touched her friend's face lightly, tracing over the pale skin. Her colour had greatly improved since she got wheeled in, but no one looked great after surgery. 

“You sure she's going to be okay,” she asked gently. Jongho nodded with a small smile. 

“Deadly.” 

He was glad for the small snort the woman let out as she sat down. Jongho looked her friend over again, making sure to do everything gently. 

His insides were at war. 

Back when Seonghwa met his girlfriend, he'd sat right alongside Wooyoung and teased the shit out of him. Had washed out and stitched the bloody stiletto wound closed with a snicker and wondered how a hardened man like Seonghwa was being so cheesy. And they'd met mere hours before the boss had walked in with said stiletto wound. 

Jongho couldn’t fathom it. Not after what they went through. Not after Jongho had ripped men to pieces at 16. Not after Seonghwa had killed his own father. Not after their whole inner circle was almost dead from a betrayal none of them saw coming when they were just boys. 

He’d thought Seonghwa was stupid, crazy, utterly insane…

And then the woman lying in the hospital bed had hit him in the face and broken a mug over his head. 

He hadn’t really been thinking straight when he asked Seonghwa if he could have her. In truth, he wasn’t going to touch her, wasn’t going to let himself be so silly. Putting a claim on a woman, or a man, meant that no one else in their little cadre could go after them for the time being. Unless someone else had a better claim and more legitimacy. It was a way of saying back off I’m still deciding.

Jongho didn’t know what he was deciding. He’d had far to many irrational and impure thoughts that night as he slipped into bed. Despite the fact that he’d met her while she was looking like a mess, his thoughts and dreams had been full of her looking like sin. And he hated himself for it for multiple reasons. So he’d shut out the thought of her until the early hours of the morning when he just couldn’t sleep.

Now he felt immensely guilty. Now, instead of exploring her body as he’d wished, once he’d broken her to his will, he’d seen her bloody and broken. Not that it would detract from his fantasies in the slightest - in fact they’d likely be enhanced. But he had an unfair advantage, having literally been inside of her and not in a fun way. 

He glanced at the twitching features. 

She’d throw herself in front of her friend to save her from an attack without knowing the context. Had likely reacted out of instinct. If Jongho was being honest, it made her even more attractive. In their world, everything came down to loyalty. And she clearly had that ingrained in her. She’d be a perfect addition to their family.

And he still didn’t even know her damn name. 

“Hey, Jongho do you think she -” Sorcha was rudely interrupted by her friend’s pained groan and slight flinching. She opened her eyes groggily, looking over at her friend through tiny slits.

Sorcha squealed in happiness, jumping up and bending over to hug her tightly. At which her friend promptly shrieked. The doctor in Jongho sprang to the forefront, grabbing Sorcha out of the way and apologising placatingly. “Sorry about that. She should know better than to interfere with my patients.”

“I wasn’t interfering, I was hugging!”

“Hugging a gunshot victim. Do the math.” He smiled down at her as she was slowly blinking up at him. He took out his flashlight and held a finger in front of her face. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living. Mind if I do a quick exam?” She shook her head lazily and followed his directions obediently.

When she rubbed her eyes clear from the flashlight with a small sound of protest, Jongho turned his head to Sorcha. “Everything looks perfectly fine. She’s breathing, and cognitive it seems. She may have a few issues with her memory because of the concussion, but otherwise, she’s right as rain.”

“Concussion?” The croaking voice came from the bed in time with Sorcha’s scathing one. Ignoring his boss’s girlfriend, he turned and smiled at her. 

“Unfortunately. But other than that you seem to be doing perfectly. Minus the bullet wound, but you got lucky.”

The poor girl suddenly looked like she was a deer in headlights, staring up at him with big, panicked eyes. 

“Aren’t… Aren’t you the guy I attacked in the penthouse a few days ago? Choi Jongho?”

Jongho couldn’t help the smirk that bled onto his features, especially when he heard Sorcha’s long-suffering snort. “That would be me. When I’m not moonlighting as a punching bag, my day job is being a doctor. One that Sorcha here is very familiar with, hence why she brought you to me.”

The woman in front of him winced. “I, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to be -”

“Don’t worry, I deal with much worse than a blow to the head on a daily basis. And I even got myself checked out. No concussion or anything.” Jongho ignored the hiss of his name by Sorcha, her long, pointed nails digging into his arm. “I’m going to leave now, since Sorcha has a few things to tell you about her and me and what happened. I’ll come by a bit later to check on things again.”

He smiled, dipping his head in goodbye. He heard Sorcha’s small hiss of the word traitor as he pulled the door closed behind him. 

xOxxOx

Jongho returned several hours later, tired, cranky and very much in need of a break. Yeosang had raked him over the coals, ranting about schedules and cameras and inventory. He’d been glad, oh so glad, that one of the patients in the ER had died of their seemingly minor injuries. Which meant that their records could be switched and he could work on some technical mumbo jumbo to ensure their system remained clean. 

After that, there had been no less than three car crash victims, two stab wounds and a horribly infected toenail that had made the day incredibly draining. 

Jongho collapsed onto the plush armchair in the sleeping woman’s room, an arm thrown over his head to block out the blinding lights. The sleeve of his immaculate black and white suit stretched over his arm tightly, but he didn’t care. He had minutes, ten maybe, before the staff at the front of the basement level came to to look for him. In thirty he had to be off with Hongjoong and Mingi, infiltrating some stupid club that may or may not be connected to the gang they were seeking. 

In all honesty, Jongho just wanted rest. Because if he didn’t get it he was going to forsake his vow to do no harm and start living up to his nickname. He used to live up to said nickname, The Bear, but had mellowed out once he turned twenty. And started putting people back together instead of savagely taking them apart.

“Are, are you okay?”

Jongho started, looking at the woman on the bed through hazy vision. 

“Just tired,” He replied tightly, stretching as he regained his composure and turned back to her. “Usually there’s at least three different people trying to get at me by this time of day, so I’m hiding.”

He didn’t make a move out of his chair, head leaned back against the headrest. He knew the visage he would make in the position he was currently in. Confident, arrogant, not a care in the word. Able to bring men to their knees. 

His suits were like armour, transforming him into a man even more competent, more capable and more breathtaking. Behind a tailored jacket and a smooth waistcoat, he could beat men bloody, seduce half the population and help bring empires to their knees. There were no doubts or concerns or empathies when he tightened or even loosened his tie. 

The woman on the bed seemed very much caught in this reality, cheeks flushed with pink. It was only then that Jongho realised she was wearing glasses, the black-rimmed, cat-eyed spectacles enhancing her features. 

“I, uh. Why are you hiding out with me?” She pushed the glasses up nervously, trying to hide the way her eyes roamed over his body. 

He schooled his mouth into neutrality, fighting mightily against the tug at the corner of his mouth. 

“Here I have some time before someone comes looking for me. Besides, I needed to check your vitals. I do like having all parts of me still attached to my body, so I need to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

She winced, shrugging her shoulders and leading to a slight groan of pain. 

Which, very indecently, travelled straight downstairs despite the groan being born of pain and not pleasure. 

“Did the staff not tell you not to move your shoulder if you can? Seems like they can’t do anything right without me.”

The woman on the bed ignored his question, seemingly finding some steel before asking, “And who are you really? Sorcha… Sorcha told me. About… things. But she was vague. And hesitant. And I’d really like to know if I’m screwed completely or if I have a chance of making it out in one piece.”

Jongho threw her a sidelong smirk. “I wouldn’t have let you walk out of that OR if we had any intention of killing you, sweetheart.” He shifted at the sight of her swallowing nervously and pulling her lip between her teeth, throwing one leg casually over the other. “As for if you're screwed…Well, your life isn’t going to go down the same path you had planned initially.”

Jongho did not expect the words that left the woman’s mouth next. 

“So basically I’ve been dragged into this mafia bullshit because Sorcha likes her red flags redder than me? She was bitching about me going out on a date with a dude who was slightly obsessed with me and she was turning around and banging a mafia boss!”

Jongho barked out a laugh, hiding his smile behind his hand as he cackled.

“I can see why you’re friends with Sorcha. You have a similar mouth. And a similar style. Did she tell you she stabbed Seonghwa with a stiletto the day they met because he was being a stalking bastard?”

He saw her eyes go wide with laughter before she froze in terror. She blinked at him a few times, almost blankly, before her uninjured hand shot up to her face. “Oh shit I hit a mafia man over the head with a coffee cup. Shit, fuck, fuck me. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t kill me.”

He grinned at her, bringing his hand to his mouth contemplatively and looking at her through lowered brows. “Hmm, I’ll consider it.”

When her posture didn’t lighten he broke his glare and winked. “Don’t worry, all is forgiven. Though Wooyoung will not stop pestering me about the fact that I was taken down by a woman in mismatched socks.”

She blushed brightly, a nervous laugh escaping her. “I, thank you. I guess. I honestly don’t know what’s now expected of me.”

“For now,” Jongho said gently, trying to ignore the buzz on his watch that signalled his time was over, “rest and recover. You’ll have a week or two stay while we monitor you. You'll be moved upstairs once Yeosang figures out all the technical logistics and you should be able to work from there if need be - I know Sorcha mentioned you work from home. I’ll suggest you try and take it easy, but I know some companies are assholes. Honestly makes the mafia a whole lot better to me.”

He matched the small, almost affectionate smirk she gave him before he stood. “Well, that was me. Off to go infiltrate some rivals and make them regret coming to the party.”

He paused at the door, seeing the blank space next to the name that was supposed to be on her chart. He dragged a finger over it, turning back slightly. 

“This reminds me. I’ll need your name if Yeosang is going to falsify documents.”

There was a long pause before she answered.

“Rena. My name is Rena.”

xOxxOx

They came up empty-handed the first night the crew went out to look for clues. And the second. And the third. By the time a week had passed since their first attempt, all of them were on edge with exactly how little they were succeeding in getting the information they required. 

Someone knew. Someone knew they were coming each time. 

Someone knew about their schedules and movements. Their decisions and their aims. Someone knew about all of them as a unit. 

The thought of how the information had gotten out was terrifying. Especially since they had innocents to protect. 

Though the innocents in question…

Rena had surprised him thoroughly. Before she was moved upstairs to the general hospital, he’d walked in on the woman kicking Sorcha out of her room. Not kindly. The foul looks adorning both their faces had said enough. When he’d asked, morbidly curious, as to what the fuss was about, the woman had snapped that her friend was being an idiot. 

Jongho decided not to pry.

He did decide to pry when he walked into her room on her discharge day to find Wooyoung at her bedside, holding her injured hand endearingly.

“Jjongie. Nice of you to join us.”

Jongho blinked at the older, taking in the deceptively large smile and genuine happiness on his features. “Wooyoung, what are you doing here?”

He spared a look at Rena, who looked at Wooyoung a little too fondly for his liking.

“Hongjoong and I have been assigned as her security team while she’s healing. We thought we’d introduce ourselves so she feels at least a little safer once she gets to the lofts. I even brought Yeosang so she could meet him too. They’re getting along swimmingly.”

Jongho’s blood ran cold at the mention of Hongjoong. He loved the man like a brother, truly, but Hongjoong and hospitals had a bad synchronicity. It didn’t help that the previous three times Hongjoong had stepped foot into these halls, he’d had to leave with a cover over his face and a fuming Yeosang needing to bribe security. 

“Wooyoung, please tell me you didn’t bring the Demon to my hospital.”

“How else was I supposed to meet him?” Rena interjected, frowning almost cutely. 

The whiplash Jongho got from the statement was for the books. The way she looked up at him, with no fear and a rather calm expression on her face was enough to drive him insane.

“You know who I was referring to?” Jongho breathed almost imperceptibly.

Rena shrugged, wincing and rolling her shoulder uncomfortably as she continued. “Was I not supposed to know? The Demon is Hongjoong, Yeosang is Cipher, Wooyoung is Livewire and you’re, uh, Baby Bear?” The raise of her eyebrow was almost comical. Almost.

Wooyoung burst out laughing, dodging out of the way as Jongho threw a pen at him. 

“You’re dead Wooyoung. Dead.”

“Nah, you love me too much.”

“No, I love the way you can dismantle a man from the inside out, but that’s irrelevant here. Baby Bear ?” His voice was practically a growl.

A part of him revelled at the fact that Rena, who had been in their world of violence and chaos for a week, did not flinch at the way he spoke. At what he said. At how he said it.

“I thought it would be better for her to hear than just The Bear. That has negative connotations.”

Jongho was infinitely endeared when Rena flicked Wooyoung on the head, drawing a rather pathetic whine from one of the most terrifying men that Jongho knew. “I knew you lot were lying to me. Yeosang looked way too uncomfortable for it to have been true.”

Jongho smirked in thanks, sending her a wink in gratitude as he grabbed her chart and started jotting down her vitals.

“ Technically,” Wooyoung began, a malicious smile on his face, “that’s what we used to call him. He just graduated out of it.”

“I literally ripped myself out of it, Wooyoung,” Jongho began absentmindedly, fiddling with the settings on one of the machines. “Wasn’t it you who said the bastard looked like he’d been mauled when I was done with him? Hence, The Bear.”

Jongho snapped his mouth shut quicker than he ever had in his life when he realised what he'd said. A small part of him, the human side that hadn’t fully been stripped away by years of running and hiding, was horrified at how casually he’d thrown the admission into conversation. In front of a woman his mind would not shut up about. 

Wooyoung seemed to get the message, trying to steer the conversation away from violence and bloodshed, but Rena seemed to have a different opinion.

“Did they deserve it?”

Jongho snuck a look at the woman, surprised to find her face void of any true fear. Surprise. Shock. Mild discomfort. But no fear. It messed with him enough that he only stumbled out a “Who?”

“The one you mauled,” Rena said carefully, readjusting her glasses in an all but casual fashion. “Did he deserve it?”

Jongho thought back to the day he’d officially graduated from his nickname of baby bear. Originally it had been an affectionate nickname given by Seonghwa’s elder brother that stuck around until Jongho was sixteen. Then he’d killed the man who gave him the name in retaliation for his betrayal. Selling out the younger boys to rival gangs, setting up deals to sell them into human trafficking rings. Hell, Hongjoong and Wooyoung being taken by them was the very reason the bastard had died. Jongho was fine with threats to his life. Not on his family. By the time they got the two back, his brothers weren’t the same. 

So yes. The bastard absolutely did deserve it. More, actually.

“For everything he did to my hyungs, he deserved more.” Jongho studied Rena’s face closely, watching for any signs of fear. She only looked away almost guiltily before she responded.

“I almost died when I was twenty. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but I do now. Our house got broken into, they tied us up and held us at gunpoint asking for valuables. One of them looked trigger-happy. Hell, one of his gangmates had to stop him from shooting my grandmother. We made it out alive and unharmed, but the only thing I remember as I drove down to the police station in my nightgown was that I hoped I see them. That I can run them over with my car and end their existence.”

“Rena…” Wooyoung began, suddenly looking very much like the boy he had once been. 

Rena looked back at Jongho, eyes set with conviction. “Maybe this is where I was always meant to be. I know I’m kind and good and whatnot, but I have far too high a tolerance for moral ambiguity. Sorcha too. Perhaps that’s why we got dragged into this. So don’t worry. I understand.”

Jongho felt a weight that he was unaware had been crushing him lift off his chest. He quirked up a lip, nodding earnestly.

“Thank you, for not running the other way.”

Rena smiled brilliantly. “I don’t exactly have a choice you know. Where would I run to?” 

“To my apartment,” Wooyoung injected teasingly, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. The gesture made Jongho baulk in confusion. 

“By the way,” Wooyoung grinned, a smirk splitting his features. “She won’t be staying with me like we planned. We’ve come to the unanimous conclusion that the apartment she’s staying in will be yours.”

Both Jongho and Rena’s heads snapped to Wooyoung, the latter’s gaze almost pleading. 

“You’re her doctor,” Wooyoung shrugged, extracting himself from the grip that was now on his forearm. “We agreed that the medical professional should be the one watching over our medically incapacitated friend.”

Bullshit, Jongho wanted to say. 

Not with that smile plastered on his features, or the glint in his eye. The one that made Jongho know he was in it for trouble.

They were testing him.

Seeing if his claim on her was real. Seeing if their baby was finally going to let loose on his uptight sexual morals, as Yunho would tease. They didn’t need to know how loose his morals could be, especially since he knew he was attractive.

But this…

He wanted her. His body did. So did his mind. Had been screaming for her since the moment they first met. 

Only rational thought held him back. She was something he couldn’t have.

Shouldn’t.

Because he could easily see himself loving her. And that was a worse fate than anything else could ever be.

Chapter Text

Not loving his new roommate was growing increasingly difficult. Not when everything was turning out so tooth-rottingly domestic. 

Jongho had always hated the apartment. He hated living alone, not that he'd ever admit it. The last time he'd lived alone was before everything happened. Before the Fall. Before boys had turned into monsters and they let themselves loose on the world.

Jongho still had nightmares about waking up in the little room he insisted on staying in, finding men ready to take him out. The only reason he survived, or worse didn't fall into the hands of a slavery ring, was because of the training Hongjoong had drilled into him since he was seven. So, even after they survived and thrived, Jongho hated living alone. And would avoid the place if he had the chance.

He preferred sleeping in the hospital break room, or crashing in the spare room of one of his brothers apartments. At least there he wasn't alone.

So looking forward to coming home was a new experience for him. The second night after she moved in, he came home to a bowl of rice, a questionable pile of mungbean sprouts, kimchi and an egg. Her attempt at thanking him for letting her stay.

In her defense, it was only after she pointed out that there was nothing in the fridge or cabinets other than what she pulled together that he realised that there was no food there. At least she was better than Hongjoong. At least she could boil water without setting something on fire. That had been a travesty.

So Jongho came home every day, at odd ours and normal ones to find her there. In the kitchen making a snack, in front of the TV watching a new show, in the study scowling at the screen at her virtual coworkers. When it wasn't late enough that stumbling through the doors had to be done silently, he usually joined her, unable to resist the pull of being close to her.

Often he'd use the excuse that he needed to change her bandages and inspect her wound as a reason to be closer to her. To touch her. To feel her skin and see her breathing.

He was turning into as much of a whipped idiot as Seonghwa was known to be around Sorcha.

Especially when he heard her whimper in pain as he changed the soiled linen. The rational, very correct part of his mind wanted to comfort her and take away the pain. While he couldn't do the latter, he whispered soft words encouragingly.

The very unhinged part of him ranted to turn those whimpers from pain to pleasure. Wanted to wrap up her wound properly, then unwrap the rest of her to see if she would mimic the sound while falling apart. It took every fibre of self-restraint to keep his hands to himself. Even if she wanted him like that, he wouldn't touch her until he was satisfied with her healing.

Six weeks minimum, his mind helpfully supplied. They were on week five.

Just because he kept his body in check didn't mean his mind didn't roam freely. Not when he had plenty of things to fantasise about now. With a change in weather came a change in wardrobe for all of them. While Jongho still preferred to cover up somewhat, his roommate had no such qualms. He'd almost had a heart attack when, on an admittedly boiling day for early spring, he had walked into the apartment and found her packing out groceries. The groceries weren't the problem. The problem was that she was kneeling on the floor, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that clung to her quite deliciously and a tank top that did wonders for her ample assets. He was immensely grateful that he came in while she was unpacking with her back to the door, though his gratitude faltered when she ducked into the cabinet to dig out something. That had been a view.

One that rational Jongho decided he should not be looking at. Horny Jongho filed the view away for later.

It only got worse as the days went on. Technically, he'd seen her naked on his operating table. Technically the sight of her breasts or ass shouldn't take the meticulous mafia doctor and turn him into a caveman.

But despite the fact that his hands were in his pants more often than they should be, he kept his cool. Mostly.

His latest screw-up had him, quite accidentally, pinning her to the wall to get her out of the path of a falling oven tray. In retrospect, he had overreacted heavily. But Rena hadn't seemed to mind when he pressed her against the cold wall, one hand on her waist and the other tangled in her hair as he pressed his body between her and the double-story oven. Pressed tightly against her for protection.

The way she looked at him had gotten him close to devouring her. Especially when she slid her hand up to his neck, playing with the hairs in the nape of his neck while they did little more than stare at one another. He almost cursed Seonghwa to hell when he, with Sorcha in tow, knocked on the door just as Jongho’s barriers had crumbled.

So not loving her was becoming a chore. One he needed to work on. 

Urgently.

Jongho rolled his shoulders as he entered the apartment, already dreading the scene that would await him. Perhaps she'd be curled up with a book again, scrunched up against the sofa with her glorious thighs on display. Or perhaps she'd be fighting in the kitchen, hair pulled back in a way he'd come to realise meant that she was focusing intently on her task. 

He froze as he came up behind the sofa. 

Leaving Wooyoung to babysit was clearly a very bad idea. Especially when he had come home and found the pair snuggled up together watching a movie. On his couch. 

He stood in silence for a moment - unable to reconcile Wooyoung’s bloody, manic history with the man curled into Rena’s side. Sure they’d had quiet nights to let loose and be themselves, but this… Wooyoung looked like the kid he used to be before everything happened. Before he and Hongjoong went off the deep end.

Jongho’s mind fully blanked when he stepped closer and saw San there as well, curled up on her other side. 

“You three seem to be having a good time,” he commented lightly as he threw himself on the empty armchair. 

Rena, whose eyes were sparkling, grinned at him. “You're home early! Did you manage to get to those leads you were talking about yesterday?”

Jongho barely heard her. His thoughts and focus were solely on Wooyoung and San. He stared at them. They stared back. 

The bastards knew what they were doing. They knew they were far too touchy for his liking. 

San had his arm wrapped around her waist. His hand was resting dangerously on the junction where her hip met her thigh. He was leaned against her in a way that his head rested only lightly on her injured shoulder. The bastard had the audacity to look at Jongho with an eyebrow-raised smirk.

Wooyoung was much worse. He had his head squarely on her chest, able to snuggle into her breasts if he moved a fraction. Both arms were wrapped around her, hugging her to him tightly. He looked less malicious than San, though his eyes sparked with mischief. Especially when Rena’s hand, that was cradling his head affectionately, started combing circles through his hair. 

Jongho made a point to ignore everything, though his blood was boiling. 

“We tracked down two of them and got pretty useful information. It would have gone better if we had help .” He paused, sending an unimpressed look at his fellow gangmates. “Is this what you do all day now, watch movies and overwhelm my patient? I thought Hongjoong was part of the safety team, and you're supposed to stack shifts.”

San's eyes sparkled as he responded. “Hongjoong had other things to do. Are you jealous or something, Jjongie ?” The bastard had the audacity to grasp Rena’s thigh right at the junction of her legs. 

Rena gasped, reaching over to smack San on the head. “Do you want to get murdered?”

“He clearly does,” Jongho answered, eyes in slits. 

“Oh come on,” San said teasingly. “We both know Jongho isn't going to do anything. And you’re an attractive woman, how can I not appreciate what's right in front of me?”

“You can appreciate her without the hands, San,” Jongho supplied helpfully. 

Rena rolled her eyes, looking him up and down, but keeping her mouth shut. “All right, since bossman is back, Woo and I are going to start dinner. Are you staying for dinner, Sannie?”

Sannie . 

Jongho didn’t remember the last time a single word made him spiral into a fit of rage. He didn’t hear San's reply, or even realised when Wooyoung and Rena left. It wasn't until San's voice pulled him out of his malicious thoughts that he regained sentience. 

“If you don't make a move, I'll do it for you,” the older began, stretching out on the sofa like a cat. “You're horny for her, she's horny for you, get a move on and stick it in. Otherwise she may come to some of us to satisfy those needs.”

“She's claimed ,” Jongho hissed lowly. “Mine.”

“Yours that you haven’t done anything with. It's been more than a month of you two living together, brother. Get off that saintly no-sex high horse before you lose her.”

Jongho snorted. His brothers would faint if they knew how much Jongho actually indulged. And how much water was wasted while he replayed his fantasies in the shower. 

 “Firstly, asshole, you don't know what I get up to. Secondly, I'm not touching her until she's healed completely. I can't exactly pin her down when she's got an injured shoulder.”

San's smirk was nothing short of devilish. “Then just use her throat.”

“No, San. This is a literal doctor's order. And you can tell anyone whose stupid enough to go after her that I'll kick their ass if they touch her. Twice. First for touching what's mine and second for impeding her healing.”

San simply raised an eyebrow. 

“And how are you going to enforce that with someone not in our gang?”

“Excuse me?”

San smirked, sitting up again. “Your precious little toy over there has been meeting an old friend. He likes her, flirts with her. She flirts back. Hell, she's even attending an event with him on Saturday.”

“Excuse me?” Jongho’s response was a furious whisper. “How the fuck is she attending an event when she isn't supposed to leave the apartment?”

Jongho decided to ignore the rest of what San told him… For his own sanity and the poor civilian's safety.

“Seonghwa cleared her. She’s been going into her office from time to time too. I thought you knew?”

Jongho, jaw clenched and nails digging into his palms, shook his head. “No-one mentioned it to me. She’s under my protection and no-on thought to mention it to me?”

San smirked. “Under your protection, huh?”

“You know what I mean.Why did no-one tell me?”

“We assumed you knew,” San shrugged with a grin. 

Jongho threw a pillow at him, trying to fight off his annoyance. 

“Besides, you’ll be at the thing too, so you can keep an eye on her. It’s at the hospital.”

Jongho threatened San with another pillow and the man relented, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. 

Knowing that he’d be there was almost worse. Knowing he’d have to see them interact, see them smile and dance…

He’d be fine. 

Fine .

xOxxOx

He was not, in fact, fine. 

If he had to hear one more word about Rena’s friend from college, he was going to spontaneously combust. Or make sure the man would no longer be able to see the light of day. 

It was Keeho this and Keeho that and San and Wooyoung were not helping. They kept prodding, kept asking questions. By the end of dinner, Jongho knew the man’s full pedigree.

He was the same age as Rena and they had been study buddies, despite being two different majors. Their classes had overlapped enough to justify the exorbitant amount of time they spent together. Keeho was tall, attractive, some sort of microbiology genius and had once been on the verge of moving in with Rena for convenience. The only thing that stopped that plan was that they couldn’t find an apartment that allowed mixed living. 

Jongho stayed quiet throughout it all, only prodding about why Rena was taking bio classes if she worked in business. That was apparently a long story that she promised to tell him later. 

Wooyoung was practically vibrating with mischief by the time they left, saying he couldn’t wait to meet this Keeho. 

Jongho couldn’t wait to be rid of him. He left Rena to see the two off, hiding away in the kitchen and scrubbing the dirty dishes with vigor. Had he not had his cleaning gloves on, his fingers would have been bleeding from his grip on the metal scrubber. 

Rena joined him soon after, giggling at something the pair must have said on their way out. She started grabbing their plates and depositing the leftover scraps in the bin.

Jongho knew he should keep his mouth shut, but the jealousy gnawing at him took over his rational mind. 

“You seem to be getting close to those two,” Jongho started casually. He kept his attention on the dishes, scrubbing them with a forced focus that fooled not even himself.

Rena chuckled. “They’re sweethearts, really. Woo was the one who started the affection and I am weak for cuddles. Didn’t get enough of them as a child,” she teased, sliding a now leftoverless bowl into the sink. 

“Those sweethearts wouldn’t bat an eye while disembowling someone,” Jongho reminded her, stealing a quick glance to where she watched him with a raised brow.

“Neither would you. Or am I wrong?”

She wasn’t. Which is another reason he had to stay away. 

“You do know I don’t give a shit about that, right?” Rena put a hand on his exposed forearm, slipping in between him and the sink. She looked at him with an imploring gaze, trying to find something. He didn’t know if she found it, completely mesmerised by her.

He was burning to lean down and kiss her. To show her exactly how she made him feel. What she did to him looking at him like he wasn’t a monster that ended lives as easily as he saved them.

“Call me stupid, or crazy, or both, but I do not fear you, Jongho. None of you. I realistically know that you could end me in a heartbeat, but I don’t think I’ve felt safer in my entire life. You’ve dragged me into the most dangerous world there is… And yet I don’t feel threatened by you.”

Shit those lips were tempting. Especially paired with the honey spilling from them.

He indulged himself, moving forward and bringing a now ungloved hand to support the back of her head. She drew in a breath, steadying herself against him with a hand on his chest. He knew he shouldn’t, but he leaned closer, bringing his face a breath away from hers. She smelled like the gum he knew she liked. 

“Still don’t feel threatened?”

She looked at him, eyes darting between his eyes and lips. 

“No. Nervous, but not threatened.”

And damn her for that answer.

“Nervous?” He purred, stroking sensually over the back of her neck and down her back.

“Yes, nervous,” She answered, clutching the front of his shirt in answer. “Nervous that you’re going to turn away again. That you’re going to put up that wall I’m dying to see come down. Especially when I can see you want this as much as I do. When I can feel it.”

Jongho cursed as she rolled her hips ever so subtly, finally making him aware of his own body. Yes, she could most definitely feel what she was doing to him. 

He shuddered, pressing himself fully against her and dropping his head to her shoulder. Perhaps he could indulge. Perhaps he could take her gently, perhaps -

His self-control cracked.

The hand on the back of her neck latched on tightly, thumb coming around her head to tilt it up slightly. The other was at her ass, pulling her flush against him as his lips descended onto hers.

It was heaven and hell. Torture and salvation. 

True to his nature, he skipped the chaste, closed-mouth kiss she was clearly expecting. He worked her open seamlessly, driven by the weeks of desire buried under his skin. She responded in earnest, curling her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair. He didn't even notice when he pulled her glasses from her face, annoyed that the metal and glass got in the way of devouring her as he wished. 

He lifted her onto the sink, ignoring the fact that it was wet and soapy. All he could focus on was the feel of her body, the way she arched into him when he stroked down her back. 

The need to breathe pulled him away from her for the time it took to take a breath. The moment his lungs were satisfied, he latched onto her neck for delicate kisses and teasing knibbles. The whine he drew from just that action was heavenly. The way she opened up to offer herself to him, to subtly ask for more… 

It drove him over the edge of the finely tuned control he always held.

His hands were all over her waist, his mouth kissing down her collarbone. He almost imploded when she took the hand that was lingering below her chest and put it directly where he wanted it to be. 

“Fuck, woman,” he breathed, capturing her mouth again. He could feel her smile, could feel it grow when she wrapped a leg around him to pull him closer. 

She moaned into his mouth when he ground against her, pulling her closer and -

“Hey guys, have you seen my -”

Jongho spun around in a smooth motion, fury rolling off of him as he turned to the doorway that now held a flabbergasted Wooyoung. 

“Clearly you haven’t seen my phone.”

Jongho didn’t have time to react to Rena flinging something at Wooyoung’s head. Only when it was embedded in the wall next to Wooyoung did he realise it was a steak knife. If he wasn’t painfully hard already, the sight of Wooyoung looking pale and the knife only a breath away from his face made him even harder. 

“Get the hell out Wooyoung,” Rena demanded, flinching slightly as she grabbed onto her injured shoulder. 

That was an ice bucket to Jongho’s arousal - and a stern reminder that she wasn’t healed. 

Wooyoung laughed, winking at Jongho before blowing a kiss at the couple. “My apologies for the intrusion, I’ll find my phone and be on my way,”

“You better be on your way before I use your own wires on you, Jung!”

Jongho looked at her with a flustered expression. 

“You know about his specialisation?”

Rena shrugged, smoothing down nonexistent lapels over his chest. “I asked why he was called Livewire and he very helpfully supplied the information.” She grinned as she pulled him closer. “Now where were we?”

Jongho stopped her advance, grabbing her face in both hands. He smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks to try and wipe the confusion off of her. “We were about to be very, very irresponsible.”

She gave him a deadpan look, tightening her grip on the front of his shirt. “Exactly, now let's get back to it, shall we? You've iced me out long enough.” 

Jongho laughed softly, placing a chaste kiss on her nose. “Doctors' orders say no intensive physical activity involving that shoulder for a bit longer. I can't exactly fuck you into the matress when half your screaming will be in pain.” 

That was evidently the wrong thing to say as her eyes darkened with lust. “I've been going to the gym with the others, but sex is off the table? I'd say that's more intense. Besides,” her grin was almost feral. “Who says I don’t like that kind of thing?”

Jongho cursed, dropping a hand on her thigh and squeezing . A strange warmth blooming in his chest, while a very familiar one bloomed lower. 

“They are under strict orders to not put strain on your shoulder,” he said, ignoring her completely. “Exercise is fine as long as you're not stressing the injury site.”

She gave him a fairly devious smile as she tugged him closer again, pure mischief glinting in her eyes.  “Then how about I fuck you into the matress? No strain on my poor shoulder at all. As you can clearly see, my thighs are more than up to the task,” gesturing down to her very ample thighs. 

Jongho froze. 

The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He was always in control, always on top. For her to… 

The sound of Seonghwa’ customised ringtone was both salvation and damnation.

“I'm sorry,” he cringed, digging the phone out of his pocket while she glared daggers at the device. “It's Seonghwa. I have to answer.” 

He pressed accept only for the phone to be yanked out of his hand and pressed against Rena’s ear. 

“This better be mighty important or you're not getting any from Sorcha until I get some from your maknae.” 

Jongho really tried to wrestle the phone out of her hands, but when she made a show of flinching into her injury, he relented. 

“Yes I was busy with him, don't sound so scandalised.” Rena raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I mean sex.”

She rolled her eyes, pouting in Jongho's direction. “I had just informed him of ways that his doctor's order could still be followed when you called, so no he wasn't.”

Rena huffed, sliding off the counter. Jongho steadied her, wishing that he didn't have to attend to whatever Seonghwa was clearly calling about. His resolve had snapped.

“Fine, but he better be back quickly or I'm stealing your girlfriend until you can return him to me.”

Jongho smirked, a sense of pride washing through him as she handed him the phone. She was made for him. Made for this. No doubt about it. 

He pressed the phone to his ear. “Jongho speaking.” A quick kiss to her throat. 

“What happened to I'm not touching her until she's healed completely ?” Seonghwa seemed far too amused. 

“It went out the window when she threw a knife at Wooyoung’s head. Any more questions or will you tell me why you called?”

Seonghwa chuckled and Jongho could hear him fidgeting with his lighter on the other end. 

“We have three rats and two outsiders in my basement. We need all hands for this. I need The Bear, not the Doctor.”

Jongho stiffened, a gesture that Rena picked up on immediately. She rubbed his chest in soothing gentle circles. 

“Do you need Serum?” 

There was a short pause before Seonghwa responded. “If all else fails, yes. But let's see what we can do before that. The whole team will be there. If eight of us can't break them, we're shit at our jobs.”

Jongho couldn’t agree more. 

The trip downstairs was almost painful. After extracting himself from Rena's embrace, who seemed to want to rile him up more than necessary with her kisses and body rolls, he met up with Wooyoung, San and Hongjoong. 

None of them wanted to keep their mouths shut. 

“So, mr big bad grizzly, how did it feel taking a bite of something just right?” 

Jongho stared daggers at Wooyoung through the reflection in the elevator. “I don't know, considering all the interruptions we had. How did it feel almost being executed by steak knife?” 

San whipped his head to Wooyoung, who shrugged. “If you weren't already halfway to fucking her, I'd have stepped right up. You know what the threat of violence does to me.”

“She hurt you?” Hongjoong asked, looking questioningly between Wooyoung and Jongho. 

“No, she hurled a knife at my head when I interrupted her and Jjong.”

San snorted, a proud smile on his face. “That's my girl.”

“She's not your anything,” Jongho hissed, narrowing his eyes at San. “She's mine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” San said dismissively, pushing past Jongho as they reached the parking levels. “She's yours. But she is a friend now and I am obligated to feel proud when my advice and meddling works.”

“What advice?”

“Let’s just say I know your weaknesses, Maknae. And I was more than happy to share the knowledge and my skills with my new older sister.”

“When we’re done with the traitors, I’m stringing you up by your dick,” Jongho seethed as they made their way to the car.

“Well at least she’s loosened you up,” Hongjoong interrupted, typing away on his phone. “The last time you got any was two years ago. A man needs to let go.”

Jongho rolled his eyes, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it in the backseat of his car before getting in and starting the engine. “None of you need to know this, but the last time I got any was right before I met her. I let loose quite frequently, thank you. I just don’t feel the need to tell you bastards every time I do because you make such a big deal out of it.”

San, having mercifully occupied the passenger seat, looked scandalised. “Our baby is fucking on a regular basis?”

“Your baby,” Jongho deadpanned, “is a twenty-five year old man. Didn’t Hongjoong just say I needed to loosen up?”

Hongjoong, his demonic smile plastered all over his face, sat forward and flicked Jongho behind the ear. “Not unauthorised, you brat. We need to know you’re not sticking your dick in crazy.”

“So everyone who let you stick your dick in them needs an apology letter?” Wooyoung teased, pulling Hongjoong back into his seat at the same time Jongho pulled out of the parking bay.

“Calm down you two,”  Jongho said, observing their tousling in the backseat, “or I’ll have Sannie put a muzzle on both of you.”

“You don’t have any in the front,” Hongjoong said confidently, pulling Wooyoung’s head down and running a knuckle roughly over his scalp.

“San,” Jongho gestured to the little cubby in the front, knowing that he had stashed a set of muzzles in there and forgotten to take them out. 

San pulled out the offending garment, swinging it between his fingers in plain view of the still wrestling men in the back. They stopped struggling once they laid eyes on it, even buckling themselves into the seats. 

The rest of the drive was far more peaceful.

Seonghwa’s complex was only a three minute drive away while going under the speed limit, but by the time they pulled into the underground parking, the mood was dark. 

Hongjoong and Wooyoung were uncharacteristically silent. The Demon already had his unhinged glint in his eyes while Wooyoung’s expression was completely blank. San led the way once Jongho had retrieved the serum from the special compartment in his car, taking the route to the elevator that was purposely left unmonitored. San stuck a keycard into a barely visible slot once they were inside, pressing the maintenance button and rolling his shoulders as they descended even further into the basement levels. 

Jongho wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he entered their torture chamber. He knew how they treated their rats, but he didn’t expect Yeosang of all people to be covered in blood. Their tech genious barely gave them any acknowledgement from where he typed away on his detached keyboard, fingers flying over the keys and dripping blood as they went. His right hand was crimson, his left only slightly bloody, but it still left streaks of red wherever he moved.

Yeosang was holy about his equipment - for him to be typing away while dripping meant that he was past the point of sanity.

“You’re here!” Mingi’s deep voice resonated towards them as he popped out of one of the doors leading to the different cells. The fact that they weren’t hearing anything from inside was either a testament to their soundproofing or a testament to the derangement behind the doors. Considering Jongho hadn’t yet cut anyone’s vocal chords so they couldn’t scream, he was certain it was the latter.

Mingi ran his hand through his short-cropped pink hair. The length was a result of an accident with a lighter and hairspray, while the colour was his attempt at drawing attention away from his melted ends. It didn’t work. 

“We’re here,” Hongjoong answered, nodding at Mingi. “Where do we begin?”

“Main atrium,” Mingi nodded to the door that led to the massive chamber they used when they wanted to get information out of a lot of people in a short amount of time. “Our rats turned into birds and have started singing nicely. Sangie over there -”

Mingi was interrupted by Yeosang jumping up and grabbing freshly printed papers out of the printing tray. 

“The fuckers thought they could get past me,” the usually calm man snarled, turning furious eyes towards their group. “I know who they are and how to break them.”

Wooyoung, while being Yeosang’s closest friend, was also one of his worst enemies when it came to teasing. 

“Weren’t you supposed to do this when we hired them?”

Jongho, along with the rest, dodged out of the way of the hammer that had been sitting next to the bloody laptop. Jongho was unimpressed by the splatter of blood that was now streaked over his chest and face.

“The bastards had someone help them cover their tracks,” Yeosang seethed, pushing the papers into Wooyoung’s hands. “One word and I had everything I needed.”

“And the other two? Do we know who they’re affiliated with?”

Yeosang seemed to pause, eyeing Hongjoong and Wooyoung carefully. 

“The Snakes.”

Jongho felt himself go cold at the words. He could see Hongjoong and Wooyoung stiffen imperceptably. Could see the way that Wooyoung’s hands tightened on the pages that had been shoved towards him.

The Snakes were the splinter of their gang that had been forced out of the organisation when they took over. When they fought their way out of the bloody traps set by Seonghwa’s brother. Seonghwa was still lamenting the fact that he’d let the splinter group live - especially after they’d taken Hongjoong and Wooyoung and forced them into the trafficking world. Their inner circle had ripped the traffickers to shreds quite literally once they found their brothers,  but gang law had stopped them from going after the rest of the Snakes. Once they’d been declared their own gang, they couldn’t be touched without a proper reason, or all the gangs in the area had a reason to come after them. Seonghwa, freshly minted as their leader and barely eighteen, had chosen stability over revenge.

Now, it seemed, revenge was back on the table. 

“One of them has a weakness for electricity,” Yeosang said, snapping Jongho back into the present. He looked at Wooyoung carefully. “You’re more than welcome to take the lead on that one.”

Neither Hongjoong nor Wooyoung spoke. They simply turned to the main door and disappeared inside. The noises that suddenly appeared when the door swung open made Jongho relax - their soundproofing was indeed of superior quality. 

Jongho eyed Yeosang, who was sagging where he stood. Mingi, usually one of their most prolific members, was almost imperceptably leaning into himself. No-one else would have noticed, but Jongho knew his brothers.

“What’s the problem?” He asked carefully, looking between the two. 

Yeosang flinched, closing his eyes against the words. 

“Seonghwa blamed him,” Mingi started carefully. He nodded towards the room he had come out of, scratching the back of his neck. “When we were in there, we found out one of the rats is the brother of a Snake… It wasn’t pretty.” The tall man eyed Yeosang with caution.

Jongho cringed in sympathy. He knew the lashing Seonghwa would have unleashed on Yeosang. He’d been on the receiving end of it exactly once and never wanted to be on that side again. 

“He was right,” Yeosang said, fist clenched tightly and causing the drying blood on his knuckles to crack. “I should have been able to find the connection. Hell, it should have been easy! They have birth certificates for god’s sake. It should have picked it up!”

“Calm down, Yeosang,” Jongho said as he placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder “You -”

“I am responsible for keeping us safe, Jongho! I’m the one that makes sure that people who join don’t have gang connections. I’m the one who makes sure there’s no way to trace our connection to even our own gang. I’m the one keeping your damn hospital from investigations with false records. I’m the one making sure Yunho’s firm can defend us without issues. This should never have happened. They should never have been able to do that. Because if they got away with that, what else have I missed? What else have I not accounted for? What -”

Jongho was surprised at the slap to the back of the head Mingi delivered to Yeosang. The taller stared down at Yeosang with an unimpressed face. 

“Stop being an idiot. They got that over on you because they knew you’d be looking for exactly the things they fooled you with. Now you know the kind of shit to look out for and how to get around it. Chill.”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes. “Chill isn’t going to work. I -”

San interrupted this time, mimicking the slap to the head Mingi had delivered. 

“Calm down. You’re going to spiral if you go on like this. How about you get back to taking it out on the bastards that caused all this? And once Seonghwa has calmed down, he can apologise too.” A pointed look at Yeosang’s bloody hands while Mingi and Jongho shared a sceptical look.

Yeosang looked between the three men in front of him, mumbling under his breath.  “Fine. Let’s go.”

When they stepped into the main room, it was clear why Mingi had been in an adjacent cell. There were only four men tied up and begging instead of the five Jongho had expected. One of which made Jongho’s stomach turn in buried terror and anticipation. 

The one that had almost killed him all those years ago. The only one that was untouched while his three fellow hostages were already raw and bloody.

Jongho remembered the day everything went to shit as though he was still living it. Back then, he still insisted on staying alone, on not taking advantage of other people’s kindness. Both Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and even Seonghwa’s older brother, had frowned and tried to convince the younger to at least rent one of their rooms. Little Jongho had refused, instead bribing an old lady into letting him stay in a run-down side room that she wasn’t using. 

It had to have been luck or instinct that had made him wake up seconds before the door to the little room burst open. At first he’d been confused, recognising all three men who entered as part of their gang. He wasn’t confused when the burliest of them threw himself forward with a knife in his hand aimed at Jongho’s neck. If Hongjoong hadn’t showed him how to squirrel his way out of a sticky situation with bigger opponents, he’d never have seen his 16th birthday.

But he wasn’t perfect. He left that room with two new bullet wounds and two kills to his name - the first lives he’d ever taken. His only regret was that he’d run before he could take down the last intruder. But Jongho was smart. The bigger man was less injured and fueled by rage. Jongho was small, injured and did not stand a chance. 

Yeosang found him three days later, passed out in one of the safehouses that only their little cadre knew about. Jongho had almost beaten the poor boy to death out of fear when he woke up - thinking that everyone was in on the betrayal. It was only when he was pulled off of Yeosang that he saw that all of them, minus Hongjoong and Wooyoung, looked similarly dishevelled. After that he subconsciously refused to be without backup.

Now, ten years later, Jongho felt as if he was back in that room, blood dripping from his side and the gun he’d wrestled from one of his attackers in his hands. 

The tied-up man saw him enter. The spark of recognition and fear had Jongho lifting his chin as he looked almost dismissively away. 

Wooyoung and Hongjoong had clearly been teamed up with one of the surviving rats. Blood cacked around his nostrils and mouth, both eyes swollen shut. Wooyoung was still setting up the torture he preferred - wires attached to a large battery being shoved beneath his victim’s fingernails. Honjoong looked annoyed that, at least for the moment, he wouldn’t be ripping nails out of their beds.

Seonghwa and Yunho were busy with the other Snake. Seonghwa was behind him, holding a damp cloth over the Snake’s face while Yunho poured water over it. Jongho knew that every so often they would pull the cloth down, allow a proper breath or two, and then continue. They’d ask for what they wanted before the cloth was removed. If they received ire or venom, it would go straight back on. 

Yeosang and San had walked over to the rat that was silently crying. He had a hole in his abdomen that was suspiciously fist-sized. Jongho’s theory was confirmed when the usually neat-freak Yeosang casually shoved his hand back in, fisting the hole violently and causing spurts of red to re-hydrate the crusty blood on Yeosang’s forearm. The man in question screamed in agony, arching pathetically where he was tied to the chair. San simply watched - his only duty to keep the man alive under Yeosang’s hand.

Jongho went over to the tables neatly lining the walls, putting the briefcase with the serum down and grabbing a pair of thick surgical gloves, a scalpel and a hammer, handing the blunt object to Mingi. The pair made their way over to the uninjured man who stared at them blankly. 

“Choi.” He acknowledged, smirking. Jongho ignored the smirk, placing the scalpel between his teeth and tugging on the double pair of gloves. 

“Scared of a little blood, Choi?” The man taunted, before groaning as Mingi punched him squarely in the gut. Jongho smirked, pulling the blade from between his teeth.

“I prefer to not get your diseased blood all over me, thank you. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

The man only scowled in response. 

“We’re going to do this one of two ways,” Jongho said calmly, grabbing the man’s face roughly and tilting it to the side. 

“Option one is you tell us what we want to know. Roll over like the little hognose snake you are, play dead and spill your guts. That way you get to die painlessly. Option two is a free facelift,” Jongho said while twirling the scalpel in front of his eyes.

“I told you to bring the Bear, not the Doctor, Jongho!” Seonghwa yelled from where he was still holding the cloth over his victim’s face.

Jongho smirked. “The doctor is giving a consult and doing prep. The Bear can’t rip his face off if there’s nothing to grab at.”

The fear in the man’s eyes was music to Jongho’s soul. Even so, the bastard spat back at him. “Go to hell.”

Jongho smirked. “Oh, we already own it. Satan is keeping our seats warm. Unlike him, I’ll give you one last chance to atone for your sins. Tell me why you’re coming after us. Tell me what you’re looking for.”

Jongho was unprepared for the spitball that was launched at his face. Mingi gagged in sympathy, handing Jongho a rag he’d taken from their supply tables. Jongho wiped his face calmly, tossing the rag back at Mingi,

“Vey well then.”

And so it began. Jongho didn’t know how long he spent slicing into the man’s skin. Mingi held his head still, allowing Jongho to make cuts all around. He started above the ear, pearls of red bubbling to the surface as he sliced down along the jawline and towards the chin. Once he was in the middle he went over to the other ear and dragged his blade down similarly to the first cut. The screaming was a minor hindrance. Jongho repeated his offer of mercy, which was immediately declined.

So he cut from the ears along the hairline, making a perfect outline of the man’s face. 

Another offer of mercy. Another denial. 

The next time, Jongho didn’t offer to stop when he cut around the ears. Didn’t offer anything when he sliced down the sides of the man’s neck. Or from chin to sternum. He only stopped when there was a bloody, grim outline across his back and neck, everything connected seamlessly. 

Another denial had Jongho peeling up the sides of each of the skin flaps he’d created and dissecting an edge big enough to grasp. 

Several hours went by fruitlessly. San failed at keeping the rat alive. Not when Yeosang took out all his rage on him. The others were more successful, having kept their charges in one piece. 

Or rather, manageable pieces. 

Jongho and Mingi’s charge was down an ear, most of his neck skin and a few fingernails - courtesy of Hongjoong. Jongho was pretty sure he also had several broken ribs, a burst spleen and a lacerated liver. 

Most of the others were taking a break, leaving Jongho alone in the room with the groaning traitors. 

Jongho was finger-deep behind the skin on the man’s forehead when he let out a pained laugh. 

“You’ll never get what you want from me, boy,” he spat venemously. “We are going to destroy you. We’re going to pick you apart one by one and dismantle you. Your gang belongs to us. So even if I die - you and your pathetic little group will fall.”

Jongho paused, a delighted smirk spread over his lips. He pulled his bloody, gloved fingers out of the man’s face, grabbing him roughly by the chin. 

“So your goal is our destruction?” 

The snake hissed. “Fuck you.”

“Oh I believe you tried to fuck me over and failed miserably. Now, you just fucked yourself.”

Jongho released him, turning to the door and tugging off the first pair of bloody gloves. The second pair underneath were clean enough that he could open the door without leaving a handprint. 

He found his hyungs spread throughout the main atrium. Yeosang was passed out on Wooyoung’s chest, laid between his legs on the floor as Wooyoung hugged him from behind. Wooyoung was leaning against San, who was seemingly asleep against the wall. Mingi and Yunho were talking quietly in the corner, Mingi’s pink hair stained with streaks of red. Hongjoong was sat on a chair, elbows supported by his knees and staring off into nothingness. Seonghwa was leaned back in a chair with his eyes closed, his usually perfectly styled hair messy and limp.

Jongho went straight up to the computer, to where Seonghwa was, not saying a word as he pushed his boss out of the way on the wheelie chair. Seonghwa cursed at him, but he ignored it, logging into the camera feeds that were in the room. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Seonghwa asked, lightly kicking Yeosang’s leg where he was on the ground. “Jongho’s fucking with your equipment, Yeosang. Wake up.”

Yeosang woke up just as Jongho pressed play on the video.

“We are going to destroy you. We’re going to pick you apart one by one and dismantle you. Your gang belongs to us. So even if I die - you and your pathetic little group will fall.”

Everyone snapped to attention at the admission. Yeosang rose as if resurrected from the dead, pushing Jongho out of the way and playing the recording again and again. The smirks that grew each time they played it was blinding. 

They no longer needed to work within the confines of gang law. They didn’t need to go undercover and try and figure out what was going on. They didn’t need to shore defences and resources.

The Snakes had just declared war. 

They could go on the offence.

Chapter Text

Jongho got home in the early hours of the morning. The rest of the night was spent on cleanup, while Yeosang compiled the admission and put together a quick, effective communication regarding the circumstances for the other gangs. 

“The snakes have declared war. ATZ will retaliate in kind according to gang law. Any assistance rendered to the Snakes will be seen as an act of war against us. Assistance from allied partners is not required.”

Simple. Effective. And the hall pass they'd been waiting for for years.

So, despite the exhaustion clinging to him, Jongho was smiling as he entered his apartment. He was surprised to see a dim light on in the living room, steering himself toward it before he could think. Which was good, because his brain fell straight into his dick the moment he saw the vision on the couch.

Rena was curled up on her uninjured side, an abandoned book on the floor. Her arm was tucked underneath her, creating a pillow with one hand. Her other arm was looped beneath her breasts, holding onto her other elbow. 

It would have been fine if the cute, pouty look on her face was the only thing that drew him in. If he adorable display was just that. Adorable. 

But the cute sentiment that she’d waited for him was thrown out of the window by what she was wearing. 

It was a crude imitation of what she was wearing the day he first met her. Instead of a fluffy robe, it was a scarlet piece of silk. Instead of the t-shirt and long pants, her thighs were being hugged by garters and breasts plumped up by the teasing lace top that hung to mid-thigh. He almost felt like combusting when she whined sleepily and turned onto her back, stretching out in a very unintentionally seductive arc before throwing both hands behind her head. 

It was not Jongho’s upstairs brain that made him close the distance. That had him raking his eyes over her lustfully. The robe fell open teasingly, having her breasts prettily on display for him. He watched her chest rise and fall, mesmerised by the swell and dip of it. His attention was pulled to the healing scar on her chest. Angry, pink and puckering, but to him, a beautiful reminder of her strength. 

It took everything in him not to wake her up and kiss her senseless. Instead, he lightly feathered his hand over the curves on display, aching to touch.

“Are you going to keep staring?”

If he wasn’t already painfully struggling in his pants, the sound of her groggy, leep-laced voice would have finished the job. 

He smiled down at her, placing a quick kiss on her forehead. She, using the opportunity to her advantage, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for proper kiss, breathless against his ministrations before he pulled away. 

“I was being polite,” he said eventually, placing a chaste kiss on her neck. 

“Does any of this look like I wanted polite ?” The teasing hand she dragged over the edge of the lace hugging her breasts nearly undid him. 

“I wasn’t exactly going to wake you up with debauchery, sweetheart. We haven’t even gotten to agree to fuck in the first place.” He laughed against her, pulling away to kneel by her side. 

She sat up, stretching in a way that made it abundantly clear that there was a pair of lace panties underneath the top. “Fine, fine. Yeah, we have that little snag to fix. But next time I’m on display like this you have my full permission to wake me up in any way you see fit.” Her grin was feline, especially when she dropped her feet onto the floor. 

Jongho looked up at her, the planes of her face illuminated from the side by the lamp. 

“I don’t think you’d be able to handle that.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” he grinned, standing up and caging her between him and the couch. 

She ran her hands over his face, only frowning slightly when her fingers grazed over a spot of dried blood on his neck that Jongho had clearly missed during his cleanup. Instead of lingering on it, she ran her fingers down lower, grabbing the front of his shirt. “I can decide what I can handle thank you very much.”

He saw the mischievous twinkle in her eye before she continued. 

“So are we going to continue where we left off, or am I going to have to take San up on his offer to put me out of my misery?”

Jongho leaned in almost threateningly, wrapping a hand lightly around her neck without thinking. He didn’t miss the pleased sigh that escaped her at the action. 

“His what?”

Rena smirked up at him, now trailing a hand down his abdomen. “His offer to fuck me senseless if you don’t.”

He barely kept his fingers from tightening around her. “He’s not allowed to, sweetheart. You’re mine.”

He tried to ignore the satisfied look on her face at the declaration. 

“He’s not allowed to come after me,” she began, the mischief in her eyes all-consuming. “But I’m allowed to go to him.”

For some reason, that statement bent something inside of Jongho. He released her neck, running a gentle thumb over her cheek. He was far too used to people preferring the older man. With his sinfully wide shoulders tapering into his tiny waist. He was a greek god brought to life. And while Jongho knew he was equally as sinful, he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

“I won’t stand in your way if he’s who you want, sweetheart.”

The way he said it must have ben absolutely pathetic, because Rena’s eyes widened in panic. She pulled him down and wrestled him onto the couch until she was straddling him. He must have been a pathetic, sulky sight indeed, because she took his head in both hands and forced him to look at her. 

“Hey, look at me. I’m sorry about that, okay.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jongho interrupted, gently running his hands over her thighs. 

“No, I do. I never should have listened to him and said that. Look, I don’t want him. I want you. You and that adorable smile and that look you get when I do or say something you find endearing.” She averted her eyes to the ceiling, biting her lip. Jongho smiled, pulling her lip from between her teeth with his thumb. 

When she looked back down her cheeks were flamed with red. 

“I hate you for this,” she began, leaning down to kiss him again. The kiss was softer and more controlled, though their bodies naturally moved together as though they were in sync. When she pulled away, she leaned her forehead against his. “I don’t just want to fuck you, Jongho. Though it is definitely number one on my list right now. I want you. But I, I like you. A lot. I want you for you.” 

Jongho almost burst out of his skin at the admission. His smile widened and he pulled her close again, kissing her gently. 

“I like you too, Rena. Far too much for my own good.”

She looked equally ecstatic at the admission, claiming his mouth and grinding down on him in a way that made him groan against her. 

“Oh thank fuck,” she said as she pulled away, taking his face in her hands again. “Now please, please tell me you want to fuck me. Because if I have to stuff my fingers in myself one more time trying to pretend it’s you, I’m going to die.”

Jongho groaned at the filth spilling from her lips, unintentionally bucking up into her. “Fucking hell, woman. You can’t just say something like that.”

She looked almost scared as she stared down at him, biting on her lip worriedly. He grabbed the back of her neck, hissing with restraint. “You can’t say things like that when I’ve spent every night imagining the hand around my cock was you. Do you know how much self-restraint I’ve had to use around you these past few weeks?”

Her smile was brilliant as she rocked gently against him, whining lowly in pleasure as her clothed cunt dragged over his bulging zipper. 

“You’re injured,” he breathed, even as his hand dropped and tightened on her ass. “I’ll hurt you.”

“Not if we stay like this,” she breathed against him, voice thin with pleasure. 

Jongho’s mind was clouded. 

He’d never let the other person be on top. He was always in control. Always the one calling the shots.To give up that bit of power… He didn’t know if he physically could. But then his mind helpfully supplied that he was already perfectly happy with her astride him. That he had his head thrown back onto the back of the couch, that he was perfectly content with rutting into her like a hormone-crazed teenager. 

“You’re going to be my end, sweetheart,” he moaned, grabbing fistfuls of her ass with both hands. 

“Please tell me that’s a yes,” she begged, grabbing the back of his head and tugging on the hair there. 

“Yes,” he answered, gliding one hand between them and over her clothed folds. 

“Thank fuck,” she breathed, lifting herself slightly to fiddle with his pants. He helped, pulling both his pants and underwear off at the same time. She didn’t give him time to even kick them off, leaving them on his knees before she grabbed his length between them.

He tried and failed to hold back the moan she dragged from him, bucking into her hand with abandon. The next thing he knew he felt her slickness spreading over his tip and he looked down to find her pushing her underwear to the side as she lined herself up. 

“Fucking hell,” he breathed. “Ever heard of foreplay?”

She looked at him, her gaze already fucked-out. 

“Fuck foreplay. You’re already hard and I’m going to combust if I don’t get you inside of me right fucking now.”

Jongho was, evedently, a weak man. Because he did not protest. Instead, he grabbed his cock and took over rubbing it over her folds, hissing in pleasure when he angled straight for her dripping hole. 

They both moaned in tandem when his head pushed inside, Rena letting go of her underwear to wrap her arms around his neck. The slide was tight and wet and had him screaming internally that he should have thought of this option sooner. 

Rena was a sight of sin to behold as she sank down onto him. Her robe had fallen open completely and the top had fallen down to where it was layered around her elbows. Her arms that were stung around his neck created a beautiful line from him to her, allowing his gaze to drift up to where her head was thrown back in ecstasy. The small whines that left her as she sunk lower and lower were better than anything he could have imagined.

When she was finally fully seated, she let out a satisfied sigh, her walls fluttering and tightening around him. 

He was dead. He had died and gone to heaven. Or hell. He wasn’t certain which one it was yet. 

Not when the vice her cunt had on him had him straining. Not when every fiber of his being was screaming at him to move. To pin her down and fuck her senseless. 

But he remained still, taking her in with what must have been a gaze akin to a worshipper staring at a goddess.

She finally seemed to regain consciousness, lifting herself slightly before sliding down temptingly once more. The twin groans she pulled from the both of them seemed to rile her and she started moving in slow, deliberate movements that drove Jongho out of his mind. 

His fingers were clenched into her hips in a grip he knew would leave bruises, but he was holding on to sanity by a thread. His mind was begging him to move. To take the pace he wanted, to chase his pleasure in her. But he held fast, his heavy breathing the only sign that he was slipping. 

Rena looked at him with a victorious grin, using one hand to slide down her body teasingly. 

Jongho grabbed the hand, placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist before tugging her closer and letting the thread snap. 

The strangled moan she let out was music to his ears as he snapped his hips upward, setting a pace that satisfied his instincts. Rena seemed happy with it, becoming pliant in his arms 

“What have you done to me?” She moaned, burying her head in his shoulder. He barked out a laugh, sliding one hand up to grip her hair from behind as he fucked up into her. 

“What have I done to you? I should be asking you that question, woman. I’ve never had someone on top before.” He groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. “I’ve never allowed anyone on top before.”

Rena whined, mouthing desperately at his neck as he fucked her senseless.

“You broke me,” she breathed, almost imperceptably. 

Jongho heard, but opted to continue breaking her as he could enjoy the noises she was making a little longer. 

“I, fuck!” Her nails dug into his shoulder painfully, but it was worth it. Rena looked up, eyes unfocused and trained straight on Jongho. “I made it through highschool as a virgin. I've only been with people who I was in a comitted relationship with. Shit!” She wined at the falter of Jongho’s pace, at his body’s reaction to her admission.

Her admission had made him almost feral. The idea that the vixen in front of him, the one that had been too desperate to let him enjoy himself with her taste and feel, wasn’t usually like this. He’d have questioned her sincerity - if not for the fact that she could barely scrape two braincells together to string the sentence together. 

“You, you fucking bastard,” she gasped, finally regaining some sense, “broke me. I’ve been so desperate for you. And for what?” She pulled him in for a kiss, their mouths meeting in a sloppy tangle of tongue and teeth. 

She started moving against him, taking the mind-bending pace they were going at and breaking it down to a calmer, yet somehow intenser pleasure. 

“How long,” he asked, throwing his head back against the cushions. “How long did it take to break you?”

“I’m fucking you now,” she hissed, clenching her cunt around him, causing both of them to moan in pleasure at the slide over her constricting heat. “Six weeks is a fucking record and a half.”

Jongho palmed her breast lazily, flicking his thumb over her clothed nipple. “I don’t mean actually fucking me,” he sighed, meeting her sensual rolls with almost natural grace. “I mean how long did it take for you to start wanting me.” He grinned, stroking up her neck and gently tightening his grip around her. When he received only a huff of pleasure, he tightened his grip as he continued. “It took me about fifteen seconds.” The confused whine was adorable. “You made me walk away from our first encounter with a boner and every intention of taking you apart piece by piece.”

Rena whined as he tightened his grip, controlling the bloodflow to her head like a maestro would an orchestra. She gasped when he finally released her, cunt fluttering and clenching in delicious trembles. 

“The day I got shot,” she said, voice thin and unfocused. “When you were sitting in that chair in that suit… The only thing I could think was that it was a pity that I was injured. That I couldn’t kneel between your legs and worship you.”

Jongho hadn’t realised that he’d held on to a shred of control until the words she uttered broke him completely. 

He snapped his hips up so hard while gripping her thighs that he saw stars - and she let out her first scream. The jolt of pure male satisfaction that it summoned had him chasing that same sound again, slamming into her at a pace and roughness that he didn’t know he possessed. 

She buckled atop him, screaming in pleasure as she came. A hand instinctively shot out to steady herself as she crumpled, only for it to land on Jongho’s own throat. 

His mind turned to pure white and pleasure as he grabbed at the hand at his throat, stringing curses together as he came without warning. His hips continued on moving even when his mind floated above the clouds for far longer than he was used to. 

It was her laugh that pulled him back into reality, the little giggles against his chest that settled him back into his fully-functioning brain. 

“What?” The word was  both a tease and demand.

Rena sat up, pressing a kiss to his throat before responding. “Are you trying to be the first one in your friend group with a baby?” 

The words were an ice bucket to Jongho’s lingering arousal. He sat up, cursing, apologising profusely, only to be silenced with a kiss. He responded, though confused. She giggled again when she pulled away. “Don’t worry, I’m about 90% to blame for this anyway. You weren’t the one seducing me,” she purred, kissing him again. “And I came prepared with plan b. Though next time… Until I get on birth control, we may need to use other methods of protection.”

Jongho grinned back, far too happy to think about any consequences. “There’s going to be a next time?”

Rena laughed, leaning in for another kiss. He could get used to the constant affection.  “Unless you decide you don’t want me, there’s going to be a next time. Preferably when my doctor gets his head out of his ass and clears me so you can, and I quote, fuck me into the matress.”

Jongho groaned, feeling himself twitch inside of her at the words. “You’re going to kill me woman.”

And kill him she did.