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Entry tags:
writing: only you (and you alone)
milkyu + #24 (“You’re trembling.”) for cc!
rating: mature
archive warning: mentions of graphic violence, blood
relationship: hyunjae/q
word count: 493
Jaehyun prides himself on his independence. It’s why he’s survived this game for so long and it’s why people pay
him to do what he does. Why he can justify his asking price, and why he’s never needed anyone else to help him.
And yet, here he is, hiding in the middle of the night, about to bleed out in a back alley. They’re onto him and for all of his independence and wit and experience, he’s nothing in the face of a gun and a bleeding gut. He knows he can’t move from his spot, ironed out against the brick wall, for fear of rupturing his wound and leaving a sticky red trail behind him. The cars accelerate past, the footsteps never stop, and shadows colour the pavement illuminated by the streetlights. They want him dead and the compensation he received was not nearly enough to warrant him losing everything. They weren’t supposed to be there when he entered the room but they were, and they weren’t supposed to call in their reinforcements against him when he left. As if someone set him up, and he can only wonder which one of the innumerable hit lists he was on was crossed off today.
He doesn’t want to die. It’s a feeble thought to be having but Jaehyun is still Jaehyun, even when his whole body is being drained. He is Lee Jaehyun with enough kills to notch a belt and break it at the same time. No friends or family to live on his name, only enemies who would love to see him pale in the face and unmoving, only angry that it wasn’t by their hand.
Light shines into the alley, one far too angled and blinding to be that of a streetlamp nor the moon. Footsteps follow, hard and heavy, soles shaking the ground.
This is it, he thinks idly. What a miserable way to die.
He stares into the torch when it finally shines into his face. Jaehyun can barely keep his eyes open however, even when the owner of the light kneels down and turns it off. The first thing he does notice, is how their hands shake when they touch his face, caressing his bruised cheeks like he’s something to be held like this.
“You’re trembling.” Jaehyun can barely choke out without spitting out blood.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” the voice says back, wet and afraid. His face is obscured by a hat and mask. Jaehyun doesn’t know who this man is, or why he hasn’t stabbed Jaehyun in the heart yet.
“Why?” Jaehyun whispers, the fear setting in along with the searing pain as his hands come back from his torso, pruned and red.
The hat comes off and Jaehyun recognises those eyes from anywhere. He can barely bring his arms up from his stomach to see if he’s correct. If those lips and that nose and those eyes are really his.
“I’m returning the favour.”
rating: mature
archive warning: mentions of graphic violence, blood
relationship: hyunjae/q
word count: 493
Jaehyun prides himself on his independence. It’s why he’s survived this game for so long and it’s why people pay
him to do what he does. Why he can justify his asking price, and why he’s never needed anyone else to help him.
And yet, here he is, hiding in the middle of the night, about to bleed out in a back alley. They’re onto him and for all of his independence and wit and experience, he’s nothing in the face of a gun and a bleeding gut. He knows he can’t move from his spot, ironed out against the brick wall, for fear of rupturing his wound and leaving a sticky red trail behind him. The cars accelerate past, the footsteps never stop, and shadows colour the pavement illuminated by the streetlights. They want him dead and the compensation he received was not nearly enough to warrant him losing everything. They weren’t supposed to be there when he entered the room but they were, and they weren’t supposed to call in their reinforcements against him when he left. As if someone set him up, and he can only wonder which one of the innumerable hit lists he was on was crossed off today.
He doesn’t want to die. It’s a feeble thought to be having but Jaehyun is still Jaehyun, even when his whole body is being drained. He is Lee Jaehyun with enough kills to notch a belt and break it at the same time. No friends or family to live on his name, only enemies who would love to see him pale in the face and unmoving, only angry that it wasn’t by their hand.
Light shines into the alley, one far too angled and blinding to be that of a streetlamp nor the moon. Footsteps follow, hard and heavy, soles shaking the ground.
This is it, he thinks idly. What a miserable way to die.
He stares into the torch when it finally shines into his face. Jaehyun can barely keep his eyes open however, even when the owner of the light kneels down and turns it off. The first thing he does notice, is how their hands shake when they touch his face, caressing his bruised cheeks like he’s something to be held like this.
“You’re trembling.” Jaehyun can barely choke out without spitting out blood.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” the voice says back, wet and afraid. His face is obscured by a hat and mask. Jaehyun doesn’t know who this man is, or why he hasn’t stabbed Jaehyun in the heart yet.
“Why?” Jaehyun whispers, the fear setting in along with the searing pain as his hands come back from his torso, pruned and red.
The hat comes off and Jaehyun recognises those eyes from anywhere. He can barely bring his arms up from his stomach to see if he’s correct. If those lips and that nose and those eyes are really his.
“I’m returning the favour.”