Thirteen: The Actors I (Ocean's Eleven AU)
Title: The Actors I (Background story of Thirteen Series)
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): U-Bomb
Summary: Minhyuk wasn't always bored.
A/N: so usually when i make background things like you don't have to read them to get the main story but in this case it's not like YOUHAVETOYOUMUST but it'd really make the whole thing a lot funnier or maybe that's not the right word but it's like this huge inside joke that you won't get if you haven't heard the joke? idEK but yEAFDse haven't written ubomb in a while so forgive me if i'm rusty AHAHA SEE THE OCEAN'S PUN okay im done bYE
Part 1 // Part 2
If someone asked Minhyuk at any given moment of his present life, how he would describe his present life-how he would describe life in general-he would without hesitation, without needed thought, tell them that aside from the occasional stray black cat perched on top of his car and refusing to get off even when he tries to lift it off life is rather boring. Or rather-on good days, life is rather boring. On other days, life is extremely boring. On horrible days, life is so dull, Minhyuk finds himself falling asleep as he’s waking up.
He’s not quite sure when it became this dull because he’s pretty sure it wasn’t always. There was a time when he woke up excited to do things-to go to school, to learn, to go to dance practice, to perform with his friends, to come home to dinner with his parents, to help underclassmen with homework-life used to be fairly entertaining, if not at least something to keep him occupied. But while he’s not exactly certain when things became so gray, he does have an estimate that the color began to fade when Minhyuk thought he’d finished coloring the picture.
(university, graduating at the top of his class, highest marks in combat training, head of protection services-protecting the obscenely, obscurely rich)
He honestly thinks things wouldn’t be half as grossly boring if his clients had at least one assassination attempt per year-like-is that too much to ask for?
Hwang Dongsun is four years older than Minhyuk, dark-haired, tall, good-looking, rather rich for his age, and successful-he does everything with a legal spin and an illegal undercurrent, and is currently shaping up to apparently be one of South Korean’s leading contractors. What all that exactly entailed, Minhyuk personally doesn’t care very much for-neither does he care very much (at all) for the fact that Dongsun is also looking to expand overseas. Minhyuk doesn’t care much for anything that is Hwang Dongsun except for when people with guns want to get to Dongsun because that’s what Minhyuk has been hired for.
He’s also to be Dongsun’s semi-secretary.
None of this is anything Minhyuk hasn’t already done before, but he admits that he allows himself mild surprise when he walks into Dongsun’s office for his first day of work and there’s a young man on Dongsun’s lap-pressed close against Dongsun’s body, back arched, thighs bare and pale, body trembling, head bowed into Dongsun’s shoulder, with Dongsun’s hand between the young man’s thighs.
Minhyuk blinks.
Dongsun doesn’t seem to notice Minhyuk until the young man in his lap tenses for a moment before crying out shortly, muffled against Dongsun’s neck, and then the body goes limp-and yet, instantly slides off of Dongsun, shakily to his feet, and with a kiss on Dongsun’s lips, the young man turns around.
There’s white running down the young man’s thighs, sweat beading his skin, perspiration gluing his hair to his face, chest heaving with rushed breaths, color high in his cheeks, and daze in his eyes. Minhyuk notices none of it, however-can’t notice any of it until he manages to tear his attention from the distracting way (entrancing, captivating, thrilling, exciting) that the young man suddenly smiles-bright and sparkling, dancing and lively.
“Dinner tonight,” Dongsun says, voice as smooth and slick-a little too so-as much as Minhyuk remembers from speaking with him over the phone before their first meeting. “Wear black.”
And then the moment is ripped away because the young man turns to meet Dongsun’s eyes-the smile changes, shifts, imperceptibly and obviously all at once, and there’s no more bright and sparkling, dancing and lively, because there’s something terribly dull and dumb and foolish about the way the young man smiles at Dongsun.
“’Course,” the young man says, before walking-thighs bare, no underwear, no pants, just the thin shirt that’s hardly long enough to cover what should be covered-and he’s passing Minhyuk by, leaving through the doorway, and Minhyuk hears him climb the stairs from the floor with Dongsun’s offices up to the bedrooms and guestrooms.
Minhyuk is left with abruptly whirling thoughts of humiliation, and degradation, and how he might dislike Dongsun just a little bit right now despite the fact that Minhyuk has long since mastered to feel nothing for his clients because he’s not supposed to-and because normally his clients aren’t interesting enough to garner much feeling, whether positive or negative, anyway.
“Pardon me, for that,” Dongsun says warmly, with a grin that Minhyuk takes as supposedly suggestive-supposedly supposed as something to make Minhyuk feel welcome and initiated and instead merely makes Minhyuk want to wipe himself down with Lysol after just being in the same room as Hwang Dongsun. “You’re early.”
“I’m on time,” Minhyuk shrugs.
Dongsun’s grin widens. “I think I like you,” he says. “We’ve already settled your contract, right?”
Minhyuk nods. “I got your copy-and I faxed the final over to you yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Dongsun palms a manila folder lying at the side of his desk. “Safe and sound.” He glances back up at Minhyuk briskly. “If you already have your things with you, you can move them up to your room-third door from the stairs-make sure you use the stairs near the door though.”
Minhyuk nods again (the urge to yawn is already back).
There’s a moment of silence then as Minhyuk stands there, waiting to be dismissed, and realizes that he won’t be dismissed until he says what Dongsun has been expecting him to say-to ask-from the moment Minhyuk walked through the door and witnessed what was clearly staged by Dongsun as some sort of initiation rite, if not a power play, if not just Dongsun being an asshole that most of the men Minhyuk worked for-protected-are.
“By the way,” Minhyuk says breezily, “who was that?”
Expectedly, Dongsun looks immediately appeased. “Pretty, right?” he smirks, and Minhyuk complies with a mechanical smile. “You’ll see him around the house a lot,” he adds absently. “If he wants to go out and shop or shit, just drive him wherever he needs to go-never had an attack on him, but better safe than sorry.”
In Minhyuk’s professional opinion, Dongsun’s tone is remarkably nonchalant for someone supposedly discussing the possibility of his lover being assaulted.
“Got it,” Minhyuk says, bowing shortly and turning to leave.
“I’m having a dinner party tonight,” Dongsun calls out as Minhyuk’s hand rests on the door handle. “Suit up and come down,” he continues. “It’s outside, so it’d be useful if you kept a perimeter.”
Minhyuk opens the door. “Will do, sir,” he says politely right as he steps out.
The party is boring.
There’s food and there’s alcohol and Minhyuk can indulge in the food while he’s patrolling, but not the alcohol. The weather is nice-the evening comes in early so fairy lights are lit up in the yard, and the entire set up is lush and luxurious and there are business associates surrounding Dongsun at all moments, men and women both. Minhyuk is at least glad that he remembered to pack a formal-formal suit since even though his daily work wear is formal, whenever he does events for his clients, dressier than dressy is normally preferred.
Dongsun introduces Minhyuk to a few partners here and there, but for the most part, this is Minhyuk being one-hundred-percent guard. He supposes he won’t have to oversee any operations until Dongsun has actual work to do rather than simply entertaining and sucking-up as he currently is. And Minhyuk supposes he can only be glad patrolling keeps him at arm’s length from Dongsun-Minhyuk can only swallow the bubbles of irritation for so long at how Dongsun parades his lover around like a show dog.
(he managed to catch a name though-through all the introductions-Kim Yukwon)
Admittedly, Minhyuk knows that Yukwon probably struck gold and is completely aware of that fact as it isn’t as if someone like the young man would be able to have done much else in life-evident from the blank gazes more often than not present on Yukwon’s face, the simpering smiles, the empty blinking, the giggling, and Minhyuk concludes that what he saw in that split second in Dongsun’s office must’ve been a simple trick of the light.
Yukwon is attractive-a high, small nose and pale skin with slanted eyes that curved as he smiled-a body that looked as though it was meant to be held-the angles of his hips, the way waistbands clung low to them-the way cloth molds itself over his arms and torso. And, from that, Minhyuk knows that it really had had to have been a trick of the light combined with how attractive Minhyuk finds Yukwon.
Attractive-but not attracted to.
Too boring.
The party ends fairly late-the sky is entirely dark by the time the last of the guests have left, and the staffers have finished cleaning up. Yukwon has vanished, most likely to sleep, and Dongsun is discussing something in hushed tones with his assistant. He pats the young woman’s shoulder before sending her off briskly, and turns to Minhyuk with a winning smile.
“I know I gave you an early schedule for tomorrow,” Dongsun says apologetically, also patting Minhyuk’s shoulder, “but I need you to do a spot check through my office hall before you turn in-just a light check-honestly, I don’t even bother locking up if I’m just working at home, but since I’ve got you know, might as well.”
“Yep,” Minhyuk responds automatically, taking the card keys Dongsun is holding out to him. “Have a good night, sir.”
“You, too,” Dongsun waves, and heads up for the stairs.
Minhyuk watches after him for a moment before heading for the offices.
The office that he’d walked into earlier today was Dongsun’s main office, the first in an entire hallway of offices and conference rooms that Dongsun had had built into his modern interior home-that Minhyuk vaguely recalls seeing on an issue of some Seoul’s-most-eligible-bachelor-pads-magazine-type-cover-thing. Minhyuk has the card keys for the first five, and sets about doing as quick of a spot check as he can because his eyelids are really beginning to droop.
All of the rooms are dark, so Minhyuk flicks the light on nearest to the door just long enough to take in a good view of the room before shutting and locking them up again. He gets through the first three fairly quickly, and sighs in relief as he finally reaches the fourth one nearly all the way down the hall. He slides the card into the slot, waits for the click, and op-
Yukwon stares-face illuminated by the glare of the computer screen through the darkness. “Shit,” he says.
Minhyuk stares back.
He’s not quite bored right now.
“What’re you doing?” Minhyuk asks in utter confusion. “What’re you doing here?”
Yukwon seems to be in greater shock than Minhyuk as the young man stares for a few seconds longer before seemingly snapping out of his stupor and sighing. “Is there any way you could just pretend this never happened and I’m still a dumb gold-digger?” Minhyuk notices that Yukwon hasn’t stood up-the young man’s hands are actually still moving swiftly across the keyboard despite the fact that his eyes are firmly on Minhyuk’s face.
“You’re not a dumb gold-digger,” Minhyuk says and his voice comes out fainter than he’d intended.
Yukwon grins suddenly. “I’m not dumb,” he allows, with a shrug, slowly pushing the chair back and standing. He walks around from behind the desk, shutting off the computer as he goes.
“What were you doing?” Minhyuk echoes, still utterly confused and he really wants answers and oh-the boredom is gone-but his heart is beating a little too fast now. He motions to the computer. “What did you do?”
Yukwon stretches his arms over his head, yawning, as he walks towards Minhyuk and the doorway. “Long day,” he says, and the grin that was just on his lips-the grin full of wit and slyness and mystery and fun-is abruptly replaced with a simpering, giggling smile. “Goodnight, Lee Minhyuk-shii.” He brushes past Minhyuk slightly as he exits the room, leaving Minhyuk standing in the darkness by himself.
Minhyuk doesn’t get much sleep that night.
And that results in poor performance the next day-he can barely keep his eyes awake as he runs the schedule that’s now his job for the next few months, or however long Dongsun feels like contracting him, and it’s not highly strenuous, but it does involve Minhyuk running and driving back and forth from Dongsun’s many offices to his home office to his partners’ offices a fair amount of times. There’re a great number of hours spent stuck in traffic, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel because Dongsun has associates and offices all around Seoul.
He’s kept so busy that he doesn’t have time to be bored unless he’s in the car, sitting and wondering if this is how he’s going to die-of starvation and dehydration and boredom locked inside a car on Seoul’s toll road.
It’s all exhausting enough that when he finally returns to the main office, grabs something to eat from Dongsun’s chefs, brings it to his room, he barely manages to finish the food-shower-change into sweats and a t-shirt, before he collapses into sweet unconsciousness on his bed.
The process rinses and repeats for enough days that Minhyuk’s body becomes accustomed to the vigorous schedule until he finally has enough energy to be bored again, and from there the monotony just grows worse and worse because at least when he was exhausted, it meant that he could focus on being exhausted while sitting in the car whereas now he’s fully awake in traffic and constantly-once again-bored.
He hasn’t seen Yukwon in at least two weeks.
“I’m having another get-together,” Dongsun says, one afternoon after having called Minhyuk into his office. “Tomorrow night, but I’ll be having guests coming in this evening since they’ll be staying at the guest house across the street. I need you to check security for the guest house and organize a way for all of the luggage to be accounted for.” He rolls his eyes. “Last thing I need is for some bastard to sue me because his wife lost her pearls.”
“Anything else?” Minhyuk asks, crafting brisk alertness into his voice.
Dongsun makes a face, and Minhyuk notes that the older man hasn’t been in a good mood for at least half this week-Minhyuk had just assumed it was because a business deal hadn’t gone the way it should’ve, but now it feels like something else entirely. “Make sure Yukwon is dressed in what I gave him and down there on time-he’s been weird lately, have you noticed?”
“I haven’t seen him in two weeks, sir,” Minhyuk answers evenly.
Dongsun frowns. “You haven’t seen him in two weeks? He’s just been around the house-barely left.”
Minhyuk blinks. “I’m gone most of the day, though, sir-our schedules probably just don’t-”
“He doesn’t have a schedule, Minhyuk-shii,” Dongsun rolls his eyes again. “He doesn’t have the brain capacity to have a schedule.” He sighs. “I don’t even know what the fuck he does all day-dumb slut.”
“Sir, I should probably get to the guest house now,” Minhyuk says before he ends up doing something he regrets-something unreasonable and nonsensical that has very little to do with Yukwon and more to do with the fact that Minhyuk wasn’t exactly raised to just listen to that kind of talk. “It’ll take some time for me to-”
“I use the same security system there as this house,” Dongsun shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be easy for you-just make sure you lock up afterward-master key’s waiting for you near the door.” He points to the small, purple card on the shelf beside the doorway. “And stop by his room once you get back-make sure he remembers he’s supposed to come by my office before the guests arrive.”
Minhyuk normally prides himself on the fact that he rarely ever is anything but composed because it’s hard to be anything but composed when you’re nothing but bored, but while he’s still quite unexcited about all of this, he finds himself shuffling as fast as he can out of Dongsun’s presence-grabbing the card on his way out-because he really doesn’t think it would look nice on his resume for future clients if he was written to have punched an ex-client in the face.
It takes Minhyuk about twenty minutes to get in and out of the guest house because Dongsun is right-the security system is identical, which means that all Minhyuk had to do was tour the house, eye the servers, make sure all the locks were in place, and then he was back in the main house at least an hour before the guests are due to start arriving. He bounds up the stairs lightly, determined to dip in and out of Yukwon’s room as fast as possible to tell the young man to head over to Dongsun’s room before the guests come.
The door is slightly ajar and Minhyuk supposes in retrospect that he should’ve knocked-knocking probably would have saved him all of the trouble that came afterward-but the fact is that he didn’t, simply pushed the door open without thinking and is rewarded with the sight of Yukwon sitting on his bed (in his underwear), surrounded by tubes of foul-smelling glue, screwdrivers, thin knives, and several lighters.
“Fuck,” falls from Yukwon’s lips when he glances up, and Minhyuk at least agrees with them there. Yukwon quickly scrambles off his bed and Minhyuk only has time to blink before all of the supplies suddenly vanish into a box-and that vanishes beneath Yukwon’s bed.
“I-”
“Dongsun wants me in his room pronto, got it,” Yukwon says hastily, grinning again at Minhyuk as the young man runs a hand through dirty blond hair, and heads for the door without reaching for any clothes. This time, however, rather than passing Minhyuk by wordlessly, Yukwon stops just in front of Minhyuk, looking up into his eyes and it’s right at that moment that Minhyuk feels completely and utterly stupid.
He fell for it too.
Kim Yukwon-whoever he is and whatever he is-is everything but passive and simpering and giggling and dumb and flighty and empty and the usual sort of trophy found on an executive’s arm. Minhyuk had slightly figured as much after the first time he’d found Yukwon doing God-knows-what to Dongsun’s computer, and yet he still feels fairly ridiculous for not figuring it out in its entirety.
“I keep forgetting you’re around,” Yukwon says apologetically-and it sounds like Yukwon is talking more to himself than Minhyuk, “so I’m not used to locking the doors when I’m working.”
“Working on what?” Minhyuk asks, and hates how there’s sudden frustration and curiosity in his voice.
Yukwon grins again-and it’s everything Minhyuk remembers seeing the first time he ever locked eyes with the other man-there’s wit and presence and confidence and brilliant, this time around, Minhyuk feels like he might even detect something flirtatious and playful. “Stick around,” Yukwon says lightly. “Maybe you’ll get to see.”
And with a tap to Minhyuk’s hip, Yukwon walks out, mostly naked and carelessly-and, for the second time, leaving Minhyuk with a hurricane of thoughts.
By the time Minhyuk comes down to see how the arrivals are coming along (by the time he’s finished putting his mind back together and composed himself enough to come down), the house is in full spin with maids running to and fro gathering the suitcases to be sent over to the guest house while the guests gather in the living room for cocktails before tonight’s opening dinner. There’s hardly space for Minhyuk to maneuver through the house which means that Dongsun is going full out this time around as it takes quite a crowd to fill the vast space Dongsun calls a home.
Dongsun is greeting his guests at the door in a sports jacket with a casual v-neck underneath, looking every bit the young, attractive, up-and-coming CEO. He has an arm tight around Yukwon’s waist, holding the younger man close to the side of his body, and upon seeing what Yukwon is wearing-or isn’t wearing-is how and when Minhyuk begins to feel the irritation bubbling inside of him. A thin robe is wrapped around Yukwon’s body, loosely tied, splotches of purplish pink on full display against the pale skin of his collarbone and throat, and with the way Dongsun’s smile grows with every leer a guest casts on Yukwon, it’s fairly obvious why Dongsun had told Minhyuk to make sure Yukwon dropped by Dongsun’s room before heading down.
(he doesn’t know why but his chest aches a little when he sees Yukwon with that smile-absurd and coy and dumb)
Minhyuk wonders what the hell-why the hell-someone like Kim Yukwon is doing anywhere near Hwang Dongsun.
While the guests are having dinner and cocktails-chatting and negotiating-Minhyuk crosses the road and takes to a last round of the guesthouse’s yard to make sure that the outer security is as good as the inner since he hadn’t bothered to check out the exterior beforehand. The sun has just set, and the evening weather is breezy and cool-slightly nippy, but overall, it wakes Minhyuk up, puts him on high alert so he can get through checking the house more quickly.
He just about finishes doing a test on the siding to make sure it wouldn’t be too easy to pry an opening in the walls and inactivate anything when he catches a flash of blond turning the corner of the house, and his mind doesn’t register anything-doesn’t think-his feet just move, his body just follows. Minhyuk is fast enough that it’s less than a moment before he’s on the same side of the guesthouse-the backyard, near the water gardens, and hidden from view from the main house.
It’s less than a second moment that Minhyuk manages to snap his hand around Yukwon’s wrist.
The younger man spins around, still wearing nothing but the thin robe-with thin sandals to go along. There’s surprise on Yukwon’s face for all of a second before he’s smiling-that dancing, knowing smile that Minhyuk never sees when Dongsun or any of the older man’s associates are around. “Hey,” Yukwon grins, and doesn’t seem to be bothered all that much by Minhyuk’s death grip (because what if Yukwon slips away again).
“I’m older than you,” Minhyuk blurts out, and then frowns because he isn’t sure what the relevance of that is. And, who knows? Maybe Yukwon just looks young, and Minhyuk has been speaking down to someone older than him all this time (in which case, Minhyuk should be properly mortified).
A confused tilt suddenly tugs Yukwon’s smile, and he blinks. “I-oh,” Yukwon says, bemused-and he blinks some more, before decidedly breaking into another smile. “Then-hyung?” Yukwon’s voice is playful and respectful and amused all at once and it brings heat to the shells of Minhyuk’s ears for reasons he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to explain even if he did. “Minhyuk-hyung.”
“What’re you doing out here?” Minhyuk changes course, and lets go of Yukwon’s wrist since he’s probably held onto it long enough to be considered creepy.
Yukwon merely blinks back again.
In spite of himself, Minhyuk breaks into an exasperated smile. “Right,” he says, and Yukwon laughs (and how has Minhyuk never before noticed how Yukwon’s laugh is full and open-mouthed and Minhyuk can see rows upon rows of white, perfect teeth and a pink tongue and Yukwon’s eyes vanish and the sound caresses Minhyuk’s ears with warmth).
The nippy evening breeze suddenly makes a return, swirling around them coolly and Minhyuk catches a shiver ripple through Yukwon’s body. On instinct (is it?), Minhyuk shrugs his jacket off and holds it out to the younger man. Yukwon stares. Minhyuk jerks his head insistently, taking a step forward and stuffing the jacket into Yukwon’s arms. Yukwon stands there blankly for a moment with Minhyuk’s jacket cradled against himself, before tentatively pulling his arms through the sleeves and wearing it over the thin bathrobe.
“Thanks,” Yukwon says, glancing back at Minhyuk unsurely. The younger man’s eyebrows furrow to himself, sucking in his bottom lip thoughtfully and he suddenly plops down onto the nearest pool chair. He meets Minhyuk’s eyes and then Yukwon pats the pool chair across from himself, clearly gesturing for Minhyuk to sit down.
Minhyuk sits anticipatorily.
“Gave me a jacket,” Yukwon smiles, “so thought I could give you some answers?”
The older man rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “’M not that sneaky.”
Yukwon’s smile widens a little. “I am.”
Minhyuk raises his eyebrows, amused.
Yukwon shrugs. “So,” he claps his hands briskly, “any questions?”
“One,” Minhyuk says. “Why are you with Dongsun?”
It’s Yukwon’s turn to look amused-along with slightly confused, as if asking for maybe an explanation, an elaboration, a rhyme or reason as to why Minhyuk feels like that sort of thing is unfathomable.
Minhyuk struggles to put his thoughts into words in a way that won’t have him come off as creepier than he already probably seems-that won’t have him embarrassed to the high heavens and unable to retain a shred of dignity in Yukwon’s presence from this moment on. “It’s just,” he says slowly, “you’re-”
“Thanks,” Yukwon cuts him off and Minhyuk has never been more grateful, really.
“And he’s-”
“Yup,” Yukwon grins. The younger man sits with his legs slightly apart, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together. The smile in his eyes suddenly fades slightly despite how there’s still a grin curving his lips. “I mean-saving you all the pretty details-parents died when I was little, so my hyung took care of me, right? He’s a good couple of years older than me, owned this restaurant that he really loved and got him all the money to keep us both happy and shit like that.” Yukwon licks his lips contemplatively then and frowns as if piecing the next few sentences together-deciding how to tell the rest of the story.
After having a go at Dongsun’s records, after working for people like Dongsun for a good part of his own life, Minhyuk feels like he knows where this is headed.
“Not super clear on the specifics,” Yukwon says slowly, “but I guess Dongsun needed the restaurant-or the land, or something-and my hyung didn’t want to give it, so Dongsun found an excuse to get it torn apart. So I did some digging, found what Dongsun likes, and made a deal-”
“-with the devil?” Minhyuk is unable to restrain himself, and his voice comes out bitter.
Yukwon looks amused again. “Sure-let’s call it that.”
Minhyuk chews at the inside of his cheek, processing this information but still not quite able to add everything up to why Yukwon seems to be sneaking around doing whatever it is that he does. “You’re a good actor,” Minhyuk finds himself saying-because it’s true, in any case.
The younger man smiles. “I know.”
Author: himawarixxsandz
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): U-Bomb
Summary: Minhyuk wasn't always bored.
A/N: so usually when i make background things like you don't have to read them to get the main story but in this case it's not like YOUHAVETOYOUMUST but it'd really make the whole thing a lot funnier or maybe that's not the right word but it's like this huge inside joke that you won't get if you haven't heard the joke? idEK but yEAFDse haven't written ubomb in a while so forgive me if i'm rusty AHAHA SEE THE OCEAN'S PUN okay im done bYE
Part 1 // Part 2
If someone asked Minhyuk at any given moment of his present life, how he would describe his present life-how he would describe life in general-he would without hesitation, without needed thought, tell them that aside from the occasional stray black cat perched on top of his car and refusing to get off even when he tries to lift it off life is rather boring. Or rather-on good days, life is rather boring. On other days, life is extremely boring. On horrible days, life is so dull, Minhyuk finds himself falling asleep as he’s waking up.
He’s not quite sure when it became this dull because he’s pretty sure it wasn’t always. There was a time when he woke up excited to do things-to go to school, to learn, to go to dance practice, to perform with his friends, to come home to dinner with his parents, to help underclassmen with homework-life used to be fairly entertaining, if not at least something to keep him occupied. But while he’s not exactly certain when things became so gray, he does have an estimate that the color began to fade when Minhyuk thought he’d finished coloring the picture.
(university, graduating at the top of his class, highest marks in combat training, head of protection services-protecting the obscenely, obscurely rich)
He honestly thinks things wouldn’t be half as grossly boring if his clients had at least one assassination attempt per year-like-is that too much to ask for?
Hwang Dongsun is four years older than Minhyuk, dark-haired, tall, good-looking, rather rich for his age, and successful-he does everything with a legal spin and an illegal undercurrent, and is currently shaping up to apparently be one of South Korean’s leading contractors. What all that exactly entailed, Minhyuk personally doesn’t care very much for-neither does he care very much (at all) for the fact that Dongsun is also looking to expand overseas. Minhyuk doesn’t care much for anything that is Hwang Dongsun except for when people with guns want to get to Dongsun because that’s what Minhyuk has been hired for.
He’s also to be Dongsun’s semi-secretary.
None of this is anything Minhyuk hasn’t already done before, but he admits that he allows himself mild surprise when he walks into Dongsun’s office for his first day of work and there’s a young man on Dongsun’s lap-pressed close against Dongsun’s body, back arched, thighs bare and pale, body trembling, head bowed into Dongsun’s shoulder, with Dongsun’s hand between the young man’s thighs.
Minhyuk blinks.
Dongsun doesn’t seem to notice Minhyuk until the young man in his lap tenses for a moment before crying out shortly, muffled against Dongsun’s neck, and then the body goes limp-and yet, instantly slides off of Dongsun, shakily to his feet, and with a kiss on Dongsun’s lips, the young man turns around.
There’s white running down the young man’s thighs, sweat beading his skin, perspiration gluing his hair to his face, chest heaving with rushed breaths, color high in his cheeks, and daze in his eyes. Minhyuk notices none of it, however-can’t notice any of it until he manages to tear his attention from the distracting way (entrancing, captivating, thrilling, exciting) that the young man suddenly smiles-bright and sparkling, dancing and lively.
“Dinner tonight,” Dongsun says, voice as smooth and slick-a little too so-as much as Minhyuk remembers from speaking with him over the phone before their first meeting. “Wear black.”
And then the moment is ripped away because the young man turns to meet Dongsun’s eyes-the smile changes, shifts, imperceptibly and obviously all at once, and there’s no more bright and sparkling, dancing and lively, because there’s something terribly dull and dumb and foolish about the way the young man smiles at Dongsun.
“’Course,” the young man says, before walking-thighs bare, no underwear, no pants, just the thin shirt that’s hardly long enough to cover what should be covered-and he’s passing Minhyuk by, leaving through the doorway, and Minhyuk hears him climb the stairs from the floor with Dongsun’s offices up to the bedrooms and guestrooms.
Minhyuk is left with abruptly whirling thoughts of humiliation, and degradation, and how he might dislike Dongsun just a little bit right now despite the fact that Minhyuk has long since mastered to feel nothing for his clients because he’s not supposed to-and because normally his clients aren’t interesting enough to garner much feeling, whether positive or negative, anyway.
“Pardon me, for that,” Dongsun says warmly, with a grin that Minhyuk takes as supposedly suggestive-supposedly supposed as something to make Minhyuk feel welcome and initiated and instead merely makes Minhyuk want to wipe himself down with Lysol after just being in the same room as Hwang Dongsun. “You’re early.”
“I’m on time,” Minhyuk shrugs.
Dongsun’s grin widens. “I think I like you,” he says. “We’ve already settled your contract, right?”
Minhyuk nods. “I got your copy-and I faxed the final over to you yesterday.”
“Yeah,” Dongsun palms a manila folder lying at the side of his desk. “Safe and sound.” He glances back up at Minhyuk briskly. “If you already have your things with you, you can move them up to your room-third door from the stairs-make sure you use the stairs near the door though.”
Minhyuk nods again (the urge to yawn is already back).
There’s a moment of silence then as Minhyuk stands there, waiting to be dismissed, and realizes that he won’t be dismissed until he says what Dongsun has been expecting him to say-to ask-from the moment Minhyuk walked through the door and witnessed what was clearly staged by Dongsun as some sort of initiation rite, if not a power play, if not just Dongsun being an asshole that most of the men Minhyuk worked for-protected-are.
“By the way,” Minhyuk says breezily, “who was that?”
Expectedly, Dongsun looks immediately appeased. “Pretty, right?” he smirks, and Minhyuk complies with a mechanical smile. “You’ll see him around the house a lot,” he adds absently. “If he wants to go out and shop or shit, just drive him wherever he needs to go-never had an attack on him, but better safe than sorry.”
In Minhyuk’s professional opinion, Dongsun’s tone is remarkably nonchalant for someone supposedly discussing the possibility of his lover being assaulted.
“Got it,” Minhyuk says, bowing shortly and turning to leave.
“I’m having a dinner party tonight,” Dongsun calls out as Minhyuk’s hand rests on the door handle. “Suit up and come down,” he continues. “It’s outside, so it’d be useful if you kept a perimeter.”
Minhyuk opens the door. “Will do, sir,” he says politely right as he steps out.
The party is boring.
There’s food and there’s alcohol and Minhyuk can indulge in the food while he’s patrolling, but not the alcohol. The weather is nice-the evening comes in early so fairy lights are lit up in the yard, and the entire set up is lush and luxurious and there are business associates surrounding Dongsun at all moments, men and women both. Minhyuk is at least glad that he remembered to pack a formal-formal suit since even though his daily work wear is formal, whenever he does events for his clients, dressier than dressy is normally preferred.
Dongsun introduces Minhyuk to a few partners here and there, but for the most part, this is Minhyuk being one-hundred-percent guard. He supposes he won’t have to oversee any operations until Dongsun has actual work to do rather than simply entertaining and sucking-up as he currently is. And Minhyuk supposes he can only be glad patrolling keeps him at arm’s length from Dongsun-Minhyuk can only swallow the bubbles of irritation for so long at how Dongsun parades his lover around like a show dog.
(he managed to catch a name though-through all the introductions-Kim Yukwon)
Admittedly, Minhyuk knows that Yukwon probably struck gold and is completely aware of that fact as it isn’t as if someone like the young man would be able to have done much else in life-evident from the blank gazes more often than not present on Yukwon’s face, the simpering smiles, the empty blinking, the giggling, and Minhyuk concludes that what he saw in that split second in Dongsun’s office must’ve been a simple trick of the light.
Yukwon is attractive-a high, small nose and pale skin with slanted eyes that curved as he smiled-a body that looked as though it was meant to be held-the angles of his hips, the way waistbands clung low to them-the way cloth molds itself over his arms and torso. And, from that, Minhyuk knows that it really had had to have been a trick of the light combined with how attractive Minhyuk finds Yukwon.
Attractive-but not attracted to.
Too boring.
The party ends fairly late-the sky is entirely dark by the time the last of the guests have left, and the staffers have finished cleaning up. Yukwon has vanished, most likely to sleep, and Dongsun is discussing something in hushed tones with his assistant. He pats the young woman’s shoulder before sending her off briskly, and turns to Minhyuk with a winning smile.
“I know I gave you an early schedule for tomorrow,” Dongsun says apologetically, also patting Minhyuk’s shoulder, “but I need you to do a spot check through my office hall before you turn in-just a light check-honestly, I don’t even bother locking up if I’m just working at home, but since I’ve got you know, might as well.”
“Yep,” Minhyuk responds automatically, taking the card keys Dongsun is holding out to him. “Have a good night, sir.”
“You, too,” Dongsun waves, and heads up for the stairs.
Minhyuk watches after him for a moment before heading for the offices.
The office that he’d walked into earlier today was Dongsun’s main office, the first in an entire hallway of offices and conference rooms that Dongsun had had built into his modern interior home-that Minhyuk vaguely recalls seeing on an issue of some Seoul’s-most-eligible-bachelor-pads-magazine-type-cover-thing. Minhyuk has the card keys for the first five, and sets about doing as quick of a spot check as he can because his eyelids are really beginning to droop.
All of the rooms are dark, so Minhyuk flicks the light on nearest to the door just long enough to take in a good view of the room before shutting and locking them up again. He gets through the first three fairly quickly, and sighs in relief as he finally reaches the fourth one nearly all the way down the hall. He slides the card into the slot, waits for the click, and op-
Yukwon stares-face illuminated by the glare of the computer screen through the darkness. “Shit,” he says.
Minhyuk stares back.
He’s not quite bored right now.
“What’re you doing?” Minhyuk asks in utter confusion. “What’re you doing here?”
Yukwon seems to be in greater shock than Minhyuk as the young man stares for a few seconds longer before seemingly snapping out of his stupor and sighing. “Is there any way you could just pretend this never happened and I’m still a dumb gold-digger?” Minhyuk notices that Yukwon hasn’t stood up-the young man’s hands are actually still moving swiftly across the keyboard despite the fact that his eyes are firmly on Minhyuk’s face.
“You’re not a dumb gold-digger,” Minhyuk says and his voice comes out fainter than he’d intended.
Yukwon grins suddenly. “I’m not dumb,” he allows, with a shrug, slowly pushing the chair back and standing. He walks around from behind the desk, shutting off the computer as he goes.
“What were you doing?” Minhyuk echoes, still utterly confused and he really wants answers and oh-the boredom is gone-but his heart is beating a little too fast now. He motions to the computer. “What did you do?”
Yukwon stretches his arms over his head, yawning, as he walks towards Minhyuk and the doorway. “Long day,” he says, and the grin that was just on his lips-the grin full of wit and slyness and mystery and fun-is abruptly replaced with a simpering, giggling smile. “Goodnight, Lee Minhyuk-shii.” He brushes past Minhyuk slightly as he exits the room, leaving Minhyuk standing in the darkness by himself.
Minhyuk doesn’t get much sleep that night.
And that results in poor performance the next day-he can barely keep his eyes awake as he runs the schedule that’s now his job for the next few months, or however long Dongsun feels like contracting him, and it’s not highly strenuous, but it does involve Minhyuk running and driving back and forth from Dongsun’s many offices to his home office to his partners’ offices a fair amount of times. There’re a great number of hours spent stuck in traffic, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel because Dongsun has associates and offices all around Seoul.
He’s kept so busy that he doesn’t have time to be bored unless he’s in the car, sitting and wondering if this is how he’s going to die-of starvation and dehydration and boredom locked inside a car on Seoul’s toll road.
It’s all exhausting enough that when he finally returns to the main office, grabs something to eat from Dongsun’s chefs, brings it to his room, he barely manages to finish the food-shower-change into sweats and a t-shirt, before he collapses into sweet unconsciousness on his bed.
The process rinses and repeats for enough days that Minhyuk’s body becomes accustomed to the vigorous schedule until he finally has enough energy to be bored again, and from there the monotony just grows worse and worse because at least when he was exhausted, it meant that he could focus on being exhausted while sitting in the car whereas now he’s fully awake in traffic and constantly-once again-bored.
He hasn’t seen Yukwon in at least two weeks.
“I’m having another get-together,” Dongsun says, one afternoon after having called Minhyuk into his office. “Tomorrow night, but I’ll be having guests coming in this evening since they’ll be staying at the guest house across the street. I need you to check security for the guest house and organize a way for all of the luggage to be accounted for.” He rolls his eyes. “Last thing I need is for some bastard to sue me because his wife lost her pearls.”
“Anything else?” Minhyuk asks, crafting brisk alertness into his voice.
Dongsun makes a face, and Minhyuk notes that the older man hasn’t been in a good mood for at least half this week-Minhyuk had just assumed it was because a business deal hadn’t gone the way it should’ve, but now it feels like something else entirely. “Make sure Yukwon is dressed in what I gave him and down there on time-he’s been weird lately, have you noticed?”
“I haven’t seen him in two weeks, sir,” Minhyuk answers evenly.
Dongsun frowns. “You haven’t seen him in two weeks? He’s just been around the house-barely left.”
Minhyuk blinks. “I’m gone most of the day, though, sir-our schedules probably just don’t-”
“He doesn’t have a schedule, Minhyuk-shii,” Dongsun rolls his eyes again. “He doesn’t have the brain capacity to have a schedule.” He sighs. “I don’t even know what the fuck he does all day-dumb slut.”
“Sir, I should probably get to the guest house now,” Minhyuk says before he ends up doing something he regrets-something unreasonable and nonsensical that has very little to do with Yukwon and more to do with the fact that Minhyuk wasn’t exactly raised to just listen to that kind of talk. “It’ll take some time for me to-”
“I use the same security system there as this house,” Dongsun shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be easy for you-just make sure you lock up afterward-master key’s waiting for you near the door.” He points to the small, purple card on the shelf beside the doorway. “And stop by his room once you get back-make sure he remembers he’s supposed to come by my office before the guests arrive.”
Minhyuk normally prides himself on the fact that he rarely ever is anything but composed because it’s hard to be anything but composed when you’re nothing but bored, but while he’s still quite unexcited about all of this, he finds himself shuffling as fast as he can out of Dongsun’s presence-grabbing the card on his way out-because he really doesn’t think it would look nice on his resume for future clients if he was written to have punched an ex-client in the face.
It takes Minhyuk about twenty minutes to get in and out of the guest house because Dongsun is right-the security system is identical, which means that all Minhyuk had to do was tour the house, eye the servers, make sure all the locks were in place, and then he was back in the main house at least an hour before the guests are due to start arriving. He bounds up the stairs lightly, determined to dip in and out of Yukwon’s room as fast as possible to tell the young man to head over to Dongsun’s room before the guests come.
The door is slightly ajar and Minhyuk supposes in retrospect that he should’ve knocked-knocking probably would have saved him all of the trouble that came afterward-but the fact is that he didn’t, simply pushed the door open without thinking and is rewarded with the sight of Yukwon sitting on his bed (in his underwear), surrounded by tubes of foul-smelling glue, screwdrivers, thin knives, and several lighters.
“Fuck,” falls from Yukwon’s lips when he glances up, and Minhyuk at least agrees with them there. Yukwon quickly scrambles off his bed and Minhyuk only has time to blink before all of the supplies suddenly vanish into a box-and that vanishes beneath Yukwon’s bed.
“I-”
“Dongsun wants me in his room pronto, got it,” Yukwon says hastily, grinning again at Minhyuk as the young man runs a hand through dirty blond hair, and heads for the door without reaching for any clothes. This time, however, rather than passing Minhyuk by wordlessly, Yukwon stops just in front of Minhyuk, looking up into his eyes and it’s right at that moment that Minhyuk feels completely and utterly stupid.
He fell for it too.
Kim Yukwon-whoever he is and whatever he is-is everything but passive and simpering and giggling and dumb and flighty and empty and the usual sort of trophy found on an executive’s arm. Minhyuk had slightly figured as much after the first time he’d found Yukwon doing God-knows-what to Dongsun’s computer, and yet he still feels fairly ridiculous for not figuring it out in its entirety.
“I keep forgetting you’re around,” Yukwon says apologetically-and it sounds like Yukwon is talking more to himself than Minhyuk, “so I’m not used to locking the doors when I’m working.”
“Working on what?” Minhyuk asks, and hates how there’s sudden frustration and curiosity in his voice.
Yukwon grins again-and it’s everything Minhyuk remembers seeing the first time he ever locked eyes with the other man-there’s wit and presence and confidence and brilliant, this time around, Minhyuk feels like he might even detect something flirtatious and playful. “Stick around,” Yukwon says lightly. “Maybe you’ll get to see.”
And with a tap to Minhyuk’s hip, Yukwon walks out, mostly naked and carelessly-and, for the second time, leaving Minhyuk with a hurricane of thoughts.
By the time Minhyuk comes down to see how the arrivals are coming along (by the time he’s finished putting his mind back together and composed himself enough to come down), the house is in full spin with maids running to and fro gathering the suitcases to be sent over to the guest house while the guests gather in the living room for cocktails before tonight’s opening dinner. There’s hardly space for Minhyuk to maneuver through the house which means that Dongsun is going full out this time around as it takes quite a crowd to fill the vast space Dongsun calls a home.
Dongsun is greeting his guests at the door in a sports jacket with a casual v-neck underneath, looking every bit the young, attractive, up-and-coming CEO. He has an arm tight around Yukwon’s waist, holding the younger man close to the side of his body, and upon seeing what Yukwon is wearing-or isn’t wearing-is how and when Minhyuk begins to feel the irritation bubbling inside of him. A thin robe is wrapped around Yukwon’s body, loosely tied, splotches of purplish pink on full display against the pale skin of his collarbone and throat, and with the way Dongsun’s smile grows with every leer a guest casts on Yukwon, it’s fairly obvious why Dongsun had told Minhyuk to make sure Yukwon dropped by Dongsun’s room before heading down.
(he doesn’t know why but his chest aches a little when he sees Yukwon with that smile-absurd and coy and dumb)
Minhyuk wonders what the hell-why the hell-someone like Kim Yukwon is doing anywhere near Hwang Dongsun.
While the guests are having dinner and cocktails-chatting and negotiating-Minhyuk crosses the road and takes to a last round of the guesthouse’s yard to make sure that the outer security is as good as the inner since he hadn’t bothered to check out the exterior beforehand. The sun has just set, and the evening weather is breezy and cool-slightly nippy, but overall, it wakes Minhyuk up, puts him on high alert so he can get through checking the house more quickly.
He just about finishes doing a test on the siding to make sure it wouldn’t be too easy to pry an opening in the walls and inactivate anything when he catches a flash of blond turning the corner of the house, and his mind doesn’t register anything-doesn’t think-his feet just move, his body just follows. Minhyuk is fast enough that it’s less than a moment before he’s on the same side of the guesthouse-the backyard, near the water gardens, and hidden from view from the main house.
It’s less than a second moment that Minhyuk manages to snap his hand around Yukwon’s wrist.
The younger man spins around, still wearing nothing but the thin robe-with thin sandals to go along. There’s surprise on Yukwon’s face for all of a second before he’s smiling-that dancing, knowing smile that Minhyuk never sees when Dongsun or any of the older man’s associates are around. “Hey,” Yukwon grins, and doesn’t seem to be bothered all that much by Minhyuk’s death grip (because what if Yukwon slips away again).
“I’m older than you,” Minhyuk blurts out, and then frowns because he isn’t sure what the relevance of that is. And, who knows? Maybe Yukwon just looks young, and Minhyuk has been speaking down to someone older than him all this time (in which case, Minhyuk should be properly mortified).
A confused tilt suddenly tugs Yukwon’s smile, and he blinks. “I-oh,” Yukwon says, bemused-and he blinks some more, before decidedly breaking into another smile. “Then-hyung?” Yukwon’s voice is playful and respectful and amused all at once and it brings heat to the shells of Minhyuk’s ears for reasons he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to explain even if he did. “Minhyuk-hyung.”
“What’re you doing out here?” Minhyuk changes course, and lets go of Yukwon’s wrist since he’s probably held onto it long enough to be considered creepy.
Yukwon merely blinks back again.
In spite of himself, Minhyuk breaks into an exasperated smile. “Right,” he says, and Yukwon laughs (and how has Minhyuk never before noticed how Yukwon’s laugh is full and open-mouthed and Minhyuk can see rows upon rows of white, perfect teeth and a pink tongue and Yukwon’s eyes vanish and the sound caresses Minhyuk’s ears with warmth).
The nippy evening breeze suddenly makes a return, swirling around them coolly and Minhyuk catches a shiver ripple through Yukwon’s body. On instinct (is it?), Minhyuk shrugs his jacket off and holds it out to the younger man. Yukwon stares. Minhyuk jerks his head insistently, taking a step forward and stuffing the jacket into Yukwon’s arms. Yukwon stands there blankly for a moment with Minhyuk’s jacket cradled against himself, before tentatively pulling his arms through the sleeves and wearing it over the thin bathrobe.
“Thanks,” Yukwon says, glancing back at Minhyuk unsurely. The younger man’s eyebrows furrow to himself, sucking in his bottom lip thoughtfully and he suddenly plops down onto the nearest pool chair. He meets Minhyuk’s eyes and then Yukwon pats the pool chair across from himself, clearly gesturing for Minhyuk to sit down.
Minhyuk sits anticipatorily.
“Gave me a jacket,” Yukwon smiles, “so thought I could give you some answers?”
The older man rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “’M not that sneaky.”
Yukwon’s smile widens a little. “I am.”
Minhyuk raises his eyebrows, amused.
Yukwon shrugs. “So,” he claps his hands briskly, “any questions?”
“One,” Minhyuk says. “Why are you with Dongsun?”
It’s Yukwon’s turn to look amused-along with slightly confused, as if asking for maybe an explanation, an elaboration, a rhyme or reason as to why Minhyuk feels like that sort of thing is unfathomable.
Minhyuk struggles to put his thoughts into words in a way that won’t have him come off as creepier than he already probably seems-that won’t have him embarrassed to the high heavens and unable to retain a shred of dignity in Yukwon’s presence from this moment on. “It’s just,” he says slowly, “you’re-”
“Thanks,” Yukwon cuts him off and Minhyuk has never been more grateful, really.
“And he’s-”
“Yup,” Yukwon grins. The younger man sits with his legs slightly apart, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and hands clasped together. The smile in his eyes suddenly fades slightly despite how there’s still a grin curving his lips. “I mean-saving you all the pretty details-parents died when I was little, so my hyung took care of me, right? He’s a good couple of years older than me, owned this restaurant that he really loved and got him all the money to keep us both happy and shit like that.” Yukwon licks his lips contemplatively then and frowns as if piecing the next few sentences together-deciding how to tell the rest of the story.
After having a go at Dongsun’s records, after working for people like Dongsun for a good part of his own life, Minhyuk feels like he knows where this is headed.
“Not super clear on the specifics,” Yukwon says slowly, “but I guess Dongsun needed the restaurant-or the land, or something-and my hyung didn’t want to give it, so Dongsun found an excuse to get it torn apart. So I did some digging, found what Dongsun likes, and made a deal-”
“-with the devil?” Minhyuk is unable to restrain himself, and his voice comes out bitter.
Yukwon looks amused again. “Sure-let’s call it that.”
Minhyuk chews at the inside of his cheek, processing this information but still not quite able to add everything up to why Yukwon seems to be sneaking around doing whatever it is that he does. “You’re a good actor,” Minhyuk finds himself saying-because it’s true, in any case.
The younger man smiles. “I know.”