keep me if you steal me (thirteen au oneshot)

[himawarixxsandz]

title: keep me if you steal me
author: himawarixxsandz
rating: pg-13
pairing(s): daejae, banghim, ubomb, zikyung
summary: thieves in love
a/n: inspired bc someone asked me a daejae dynamics question so it got me thinking and yeah. shedding some spotlight on them since they don't get a lot in the main story.


the first time I saw you

Once, on one of his very first jobs, Himchan gave Daehyun half of the older man’s chocolate bar (something that, Yongguk told Daehyun later on, is the equivalent of any normal person sharing a piece of his heart to someone he now considers a close dongsaeng) and said, “It’s fun to work alone when you start out. But then you start thinking it’d be more fun to have someone to share the fun with.”

“I don’t need a partner,” Daehyun said, and he bit at the chocolate.

Himchan had nearly already finished his own share, chewing and looking at Daehyun. “I didn’t say you did.”

Daehyun matched the other thief gaze for gaze. “Will I want one?”

“Maybe,” and Himchan shrugged. Smiled.

He gets contracted by Himchan and Yongguk a few years after that. The job is in Seoul-an antique chair worth a few millions, and they’re to take it conveniently and discreetly remove it from the house of a collector Yongguk’s been making friends with for the better part of the week. The chair is in a security vault whenever it isn’t on display at the collector’s get-togethers, and rather than going with irritatingly complex technology, the vault is just extremely old and extremely stubborn.

“So no Taeil-hyung?” Daehyun asks, as Himchan leads him down the hotel hallway to the suite that he, Yongguk, and supposedly the ammunitions expert for the job have been staying in for the past week.

“No Taeil-hyung,” Himchan says. “No retina scans or fifty-number passcodes to crack. Just some really nice steel to blow up.”

Daehyun smiles. “But blown up so that the chair doesn’t get blown up.”

“Self-destruction security,” Himchan shrugs. “Pretty smart as far as marks go.”

“Not really.”

It’s Himchan’s turn to smile as he echoes, “Not really.”

They arrive at the suite and Himchan swipes the card in and out of the slot. He opens the door and Daehyun follows him in. The suit has two clear bedrooms, instantly visible from the walkway, an obvious living room lead-in and then the conjoined dining room and kitchen. Yongguk is bent over the counter, palms on the surface and face turned down intently at the vault plans laid out. It’s not until he looks up and moves (crosses over to brush his lips over Himchan’s briefly) that Daehyun realizes Yongguk must’ve been talking to the boy previously blocked by Yongguk’s body.

As soon as Daehyun finished his first big solo con, sold the fruits of his labor to Jaehyo, and his bank-account-under-multiple-names had notified him of the transaction, he went out and bought an entire wardrobe of suits-the sort of suits that Himchan and Yongguk wear when they’re out and about looking for their next job. Daehyun likes the way they dress. Thief is such a dirty word so Daehyun likes the idea of looking as crisp and intimidating as any legitimate corporate drone. He has the same amount of money as one-he’s smarter than one.

But he knows that not all thieves are alike just like not all people are alike. There’s Taeil, who slums it out in baggy button-ups and jeans even during the short periods of time when Daehyun sees the other man emerge out of the darkness of glowing monitors and surveillance feeds. Jaehyo is always either in bathrobes or pajamas whenever Daehyun goes to see him about a sell-off. Yukwon and Minhyuk are normally done up like PIs, and Jiho and Kyung-who Daehyun has just recently met and thus only seen once-are dressed most like normal young adults their age.

It’s the first time, though, that Daehyun has seen a thief literally in rags-a holey t-shirt with like actual holes, jeans so ratty that Daehyun doesn’t know how the threads are even still holding up, sneakers that look incinerated, and there is all sorts of ash and grease smeared on the boy’s face. He looks Daehyun’s age. And, as Himchan likes to remind him whenever he gets the chance, Daehyun is still just a boy too.

“This is Youngjae,” Yongguk says, and Youngjae comes forward and holds out one gloved (torn and worn to oblivion) hand.

“Yoo Youngjae,” and even under dirt and sweat and filth, the face is pretty-but the voice is surprisingly husky.

Daehyun pulls back the sleeve of his suit slightly, and then shakes the other boy’s hand firmly. “Jung Daehyun.”

“I promise not to blow you up,” Youngjae says solemnly as their hands part.

Daehyun blinks. Meets Youngjae’s eyes (covered by a soft curtain of blond hair). “I’ll hold you to that,” he says.

then I got to know you

Youngjae knows that he’s fairly young as far as thieves go-Yongguk wanted to wait on hiring him, but Youngjae convinced Himchan to convince Yongguk otherwise. Talent is talent no matter how young, and Youngjae just feels like this job is the job. It’s only his second job, but it’s his first bigger-scale job and he wants this job to be the one where he works as someone with a skill set and not someone as an assistant to someone with that same skill set. He wants to stop being the apprentice of the ammunitions expert of the job-he knows he’s ready to be the ammunitions expert of the job. And now he is.

So he can’t screw up.

“Do you sleep?”

Youngjae nearly blows himself up.

He whirls around and faces Daehyun, standing there in the darkness of the living room in a t-shirt and sweats-clearly ready for bed. “You almost made me blow myself up,” Youngjae says.

Daehyun just looks amused. “So, you don’t sleep?”

“In a minute,” Youngjae says and then turns back around to continue rewiring one of the packs. He hears Daehyun deliberate for a moment before shuffling forward and sitting down beside Youngjae on the floor. The older boy doesn’t say anything. He seems content on letting Youngjae work in silence while he looks on. It should be nerve-wracking but it isn’t, even when Daehyun is hideously attractive and Youngjae thinks that maybe in some alternate universe where Daehyun isn’t the up-and-coming con artist who already has a reputation of being one of the best actors in the business and thus twenty-thousand leagues above Youngjae, he could’ve had a shot at the older boy.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but it’s been long enough for Youngjae to get at least four more packs out of the twenty necessary to open the vault done, and his eyelids are getting heavy. He glances over at Daehyun, and the other thief is wide awake-or at least doing a valiant attempt at seeming so. Daehyun shoots Youngjae a wide smile, full lips curving, eyes crinkling and tiny dimples dipping in his cheeks.

“Ready for bed now?” Daehyun asks, standing up and pulling Youngjae along.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” Youngjae says. They walk together back to their shared bedroom-twin beds, because naturally, Himchan and Yongguk claimed the master bedroom.

Daehyun grins, as they look at each other across the room-through the darkness. “’Night, Youngjae-shii.”

and this is how I fell for you

There’s a window of time between Daehyun charming the collector into thinking he’s interested in more than just their shared love of all things old, dusty, and expensive and when he’s to go back and stay out of sight while Himchan and Yongguk appear as potential sellers to distract the collector even further. She’s not an awful woman-kind of on the old side for Daehyun, a little bit older than Himchan and Yongguk-but Daehyun is sure she has enough money to buy more chairs.

He manages well enough to discreetly find his way into the hallway that supposedly leads to the vault. He’s going by memory, but it’s been reinforced well enough in his brain by Himchan (left, right, straight, right turn, right turn again, up a flight of five stairs, past a closed off corridor, two more left turns, the metal opening on the right-Himchan had refused to let Daehyun sleep until he recited it back correctly without hesitation at least fifteen times mistake-free).

And sure enough, Youngjae is waiting-in clean jeans and a clean henley. He’s just standing there expectantly, and gestures to how he has all the packs already attached to their respective locks. “This is going to be loud,” Youngjae says and hands him a pair of earmuffs. Daehyun has barely enough time to put them on before Youngjae suddenly grabs him by the lapel of his suit and yanks him around the corner.

It’s not a big corner.

It’s a rather tiny corner and their bodies are pressed front-to-front, absolutely no space from their waists to their chests and Youngjae’s face is far too close while the younger boy is putting on his own earmuffs. It doesn’t seem to bother Youngjae-he just blinks once at Daehyun, mouths on the count of three and Daehyun feels the earth shake beneath him seconds later.

Their eyes meet.

Youngjae takes off his earmuffs. Daehyun takes off his earmuffs.

“Are you from Busan?” Youngjae whispers.

(why is he whispering? Yongguk and Himchan have made sure to drive security away)

Daehyun tilts his head.

Youngjae’s smile is small and secretive. “You did a Seoul accent for the mark, but sometimes you slip when you rehearse for Yongguk-hyung.”

“Creeper,” Daehyun says.

“I didn’t blow you up,” Youngjae says, “so thank me.”

Daehyun doesn’t understand why they’re still in the tiny corner, when the coast is obviously clear and they should probably start digging through the rubble to get to the chair before Himchan and Yongguk run out of distractions. “You promised you wouldn’t blow me up-you just kept a promise. That’s all.”

“Ungrateful bastard.” And they’re faces are dangerously close now. Youngjae is grinning from ear to ear. Daehyun isn’t much better. Laughter is fighting up his throat. Nothing is even funny, but it’s funny. (it’s not funny-nothing is funny-but he’s just happy-absurdly, impossibly happy)

our first kiss

They only meet again because Daehyun is doing a solo job and Youngjae has just finished his first job working alone with Yukwon and Minhyuk. Working on a con run by Yukwon and Minhyuk rather than just a con where the crew included Yukwon and Minhyuk are two vastly different things-the latter less exhausting than the former. “They’re amazing actors,” Daehyun says with something close to fervent idol worship glinting in his eyes. Youngjae notes that Daehyun doesn’t bother with his accent when they’re together now.

“They also thought that because I’m ammunitions I wouldn’t mind doing a con concerning America’s Secret Service,” Youngjae says.

“I mean-you’re alive, aren’t you?” Daehyun waves a hand playfully.

Youngjae chews on a French fry aggressively. “Barely,” he mutters. “They also have a lot of sex. More than Yongguk-hyung and Himchan-hyung.”

Another playful wave. “Look at them,” Daehyun says with feeling.

“Point,” Youngjae twirls a French fry in agreement.

They’re in shorts and t-shirts, walking along a beach in Busan (and maybe that’s why Daehyun’s accent is coming out). The sun is setting and Youngjae has a cup of fries drenched in horribly fake cheese powder. He’s on his last fry so he tosses the carton into a trash bin that they pass on their way back towards the resort. Daehyun only has a single room booked, and Youngjae just dropped by today. They haven’t talked about sleeping arrangements yet-it seems too formal for one of them to hit the couch, but it seems too much to share a bed.

Both of them are busy people and this is really only the second time they’ve actually been face-to-face.

“Speaking of which,” Daehyun says, coming to a stop on the wooden walkway that crosses the sand to the poolside cement. He leans along the railing, hands resting on it only gingerly to avoid splinters. “Have you heard from them recently?” He stares off into the distance only for a moment longer before his eyes are off the horizon and on Youngjae’s face.

Youngjae instinctively takes a step closer, one hand on the railing and one hand brushing against Daehyun’s hip. “Who?”

“Yongguk-hyung and Himchan-hyung.”

That brings Youngjae to a brief halt, his thoughts pausing. “I-no-not really. It’s only been a couple of months, though. They’re probably in one of those jobs where they can’t really contact anyone.”

Daehyun frowns, eyebrows furrowing. His face relaxes after a moment, however, shoulders moving up and down in an absent shrug. “Guess so.” He looks at Youngjae again, this time with something dancing in his crinkling eyes-he flashes teeth.

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Jung Daehyun, you were
about to kiss me.”

“Yes,” Daehyun suddenly throws both arms in the air, startling Youngjae who’d previously been leaning in for the ten-minutes-overdue-liplock. “I don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Youngjae stares.

Daehyun glances at him-grins sheepishly. “Right,” he says, and then cups Youngjae’s face with one hand and the press of full lips against Youngjae’s mouth is slow and warm and relaxed.

Once they draw away, Youngjae punches Daehyun in the shoulder. “You kiss like a god but you still get the couch,” he says, and doesn’t quite dart away in time to avoid being tackled back onto the sand with Daehyun’s body pressed firmly on top of his (and they laugh so hard that one of the lifeguards on duty actually comes running to ask what’s wrong).

our first time

It happens exactly three weeks after their first kiss, and this time, they’re on a job together. They’re working with Jiho, Kyung, and Taeil and on the last night after they’re all due to spread and scatter-the night after the job has been wrapped up-Youngjae and Daehyun stay in at the apartment while the other three go off for celebratory drinks down the road. Kyung winks at them as he shuts the front door, but Daehyun just feels amused. He thinks maybe he should be nervous, and maybe he is nervous-but there’s not much a post-job high doesn’t chase away.

There’s no romance because they’re thieves and if they weren’t thieves, they’d be doing this rushed and hidden in the backseat of a car or in university dorms. Either way, they’re at an age where they don’t want romance with it. Neither of them asks any questions (am I your first have you done this before are you sure do you really want to is it too fast are you sure are you sure), and they go too fast for the first round-they don’t make it to the bed, they settle for the couch and it’s rushed and messy but they both nearly scream anyway.

The second time isn’t on the bed either-they just fall on the floor (dangerously surrounded by Taeil’s wires and cables) and Daehyun sucks Youngjae off at an infuriatingly slow pace because he’s trying to get Youngjae to beg and keen before he comes. Youngjae thrashes and writhes on the carpet, nearly tangling his legs with the wires, fingers gripping at thick cables just to have something to hold on to-and in retrospect, having sex on top of highly-charged equipment wasn’t the brightest moment they’d had.

The third time they do make it to the bed and this is Daehyun’s favorite-it’s really, really sex. It’s languid and lazy, and they’re both loose and pliant enough that it lasts a while-a slow build that spills over at a perfect precipice. There’s no biting and screaming this time-it’s gasps and whispers and moans and caught breaths and it’s Daehyun thrusting into Youngjae and Youngjae thrusting into Daehyun but it ends with their cocks trapped between their bodies after they’ve switched switched switched too many times to count.

When Jiho, Kyung, and Taeil come back, Daehyun doesn’t even remember hearing them come in. He barely remembers the lights being flicked off in his and Youngjae’s bedroom, a blanket thrown over their cooling bodies, and Jiho’s laughing voice, “’Night, guys,” before the door clicks closed.

Daehyun’s eyes flutter shut just as Youngjae breathes and slips closer against Daehyun’s body.

i miss you even when you’re here

Youngjae won’t deny that it’s hard.

Both he and Daehyun put on a good show for anyone who asks if it’s hard not to be partners with your lover. They’ll laugh it off with a tease or two, and steer the conversation away because it’s not anyone else’s business to know how hard it is sometimes. The arrangement isn’t even something they discussed or thought of together-it’s just common sense and, like a lot of things, it just happened. Neither of them has ever thought of doing it any other way because there’s no other way that’ll work as well.

He loves his job and Daehyun loves his job. They’re amazing at what they do and the never want to stop doing it. Loving Daehyun means letting him leave while Youngjae’s still asleep to run a con in Prague for two weeks without being able to contact Youngjae even once in that time period. Knowing that Daehyun loves him means Youngjae doesn’t need to have any qualms about running off to Nice to be the ammunitions for a job Minhyuk contracted him for. They don’t always tell each other where they’re going unless they’re certain they can. Knowing is as dangerous as ignorance, but sometimes ignorance is the safer bet-especially when the job is high risk and the police is involved.

There’re a lot of hard parts, and Youngjae wonders which part is the hardest for Daehyun. For Youngjae, the hardest is always right in the middle of whenever they’re together-when everything is the brightest, when Daehyun is beside him on the couch, sleeping beside him in bed, above him and rocking him to orgasm, beneath him and pleading harder Youngjae-ah faster, across from him at their favorite restaurant, next to him walking through the city. It always hits Youngjae right then that the next morning, either of them could get a job offer and either of them would have to leave right away.

But there’s a best part too.

The best part is coming back.

(to Daehyun’s smile, to his arms, the crinkly corners of his eyes, his laugh, his dimples, his grin, his smirk, his voice only thirty mil, Youngjae-ah that’s pathetic his warmth, his accent-Jung Daehyun)

It’s worth it.

remember when we cried together

They’re together when they hear and they hear from Yukwon.

Daehyun is wary from the moment he opens the door of the apartment they’re staying in for the time being (neither he nor Youngjae are working-it’s downtime, and maybe they should’ve been on their guard anyway). Yukwon is alone and Yukwon is never alone. He also looks visibly upset and Daehyun has been hard pressed to ever find a time when Yukwon is even genuinely perturbed. The usual immaculate state of dress he and Minhyuk normally indulge in is slightly harried for this visit-he’s in simpler clothing than Daehyun’s ever seen, something that could even pass as civilian for once.

It’s still early morning and Youngjae ambles out of their bedroom only half-dressed in Daehyun’s sweats. “Yukwon-hyung,” he blinks.

Yukwon doesn’t even bother stepping in any further than the walkway. He keeps his shoes on. His eyes move from Daehyun, freshly showered and ready to go out and get breakfast, to Youngjae, bleary still from sleep and a late night. “Minhyuk-hyung’s,” Yukwon begins, answering Daehyun’s unspoken question, “with Taeil-hyung and Jaehyo-hyung.”

Daehyun glances at Youngjae.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Youngjae asks, eyebrows creasing.

Yukwon sucks in his cheeks, bites his lip, closes his eyes. Opens his eyes. “Yongguk-hyung’s in prison,” he says quietly.

In retrospect, Daehyun supposes that it’s just a testimony to how doomed they all are that the first thing he and Youngjae blurt out in unison is, “Himchan-hyung-”

“Yongguk-hyung’s been in prison for over a year,” Yukwon cuts them off tersely, hands deep in his pockets and he shifts from foot to foot. Every movement screams unusual and abnormal-Daehyun has never known any man more comfortable with his own body, his own skin, then Kim Yukwon. Yukwon is never ill at ease in body language. “But none of us-just-we all get caught up in long cons so no one-I mean-Minhyuk-hyung and I just thought they were in a long con, and neither of you checked, right?”

Daehyun feels numb.

“Himchan-hyung didn’t tell anyone,” Youngjae whispered.

“Himchan-hyung’s been off the grid for as long as Yongguk-hyung’s been in prison,” Yukwon says, eyes to the floor. “We only found out because someone contracted Taeil for a job and asked if he could bring Yongguk-hyung and Himchan-hyung along, and Taeil hit all their hiding spots-asked all of us, got Jaehyo to search all the cons running these days to see if maybe they were doing something top secret. They got a tip-off and Taeil-hyung hacked a few databases. Yongguk-hyung’s down for eight years.”

“Eight-” Youngjae swallows.

“No,” Daehyun says faintly. “Good behavior, that kind of thing-he’ll-no-he’ll be out sooner. He-he’ll-if he-keeps his head down-good behavior-they’ll-”

“None of us are on his call list,” Yukwon interjects, “by the way.”

Daehyun stares and Youngjae’s eyes narrow.

“Only Himchan-hyung,” Yukwon continues, “and he’s only called once and hasn’t called since. After that, he’s disappeared. Completely off the map. Jiho says he’s talked to some connections who’ve seen him, but just in passing-not long enough to stay, and no jobs.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and clasps them together, jaw tightening. “This is just a guess so far-Minhyuk-hyung’s guess and Jaehyo-hyung disagrees, but-we were just thinking-if it was just a sentence, Yongguk-hyung would put one of us on his call list to help Himchan-hyung get him out of there. Bribes are easy. But if he wants to do the entire thing, then maybe there’s something more and they don’t want any of us to know.”

“So you’re saying we can’t do anything about it,” Daehyun says hollowly, “and that we shouldn’t.”

Yukwon holds his gaze for a long moment. His eyes search Youngjae’s next. It feels like forever plus an eternity before the silence ends and Yukwon is turning on his heels for the door right behind him. “I just came to tell you,” he says quietly, back turned with one hand on the handle. “See you when I see you.”

The door slams shut.

let’s promise each other

Months later, when Youngjae and Daehyun get a recruiting call that turns out to be Kim Himchan, in the flesh, sharp as steel and unchanged (except for the hair, jet black and shorn close to the scalp and that just sets alarms spiraling out of control in Youngjae’s mind), Youngjae feels the ground slipping from beneath his feet. There is just something so inherently wrong about all of this-from how Himchan refuses to talk about anything other than this con to the poor little puppy following at Himchan’s heels. And Youngjae likes Jongup.

Which is why it’s so wrong.

Himchan is going to tear the boy apart and not even realize it.

The job flows without a hitch, and Daehyun and Youngjae take off for opposite ends of the country for the time being. It’s a scatter-then-meet tactic for this con just to be safe, and they rendezvous back in Busan because both of them know they need a long week of downtime after absorbing all of that. They use one of the apartments Daehyun still occasionally pays rent for, just for occasions like this, and some of their things are still there.

They have sex as soon as they both reach the apartment, and by the time they’re finished (or too tired to have any more sex), it’s well past midnight.

Neither of them can sleep.

Daehyun pours both of them a drink, and they sit in bed, Daehyun leaning on the pillows, Youngjae leaning on Daehyun. Youngjae isn’t sure how it starts, but they know that it has to be said so one of them does. He forgets who says it first and how it really begins, but it goes on and on until Youngjae, despite the alcohol, feels like he’s being shredded from the inside out with fear. Because this somehow makes the possibility and actual reality-neither of them have illusions about this life. Getting caught is always, has always been, a possibility.

But now it’s real.

And the worst part isn’t even that. Being thrown in prison suddenly seems absolutely inconsequential in light of what tears Youngjae up far more. He thinks that he’d probably be able to endure even a decade in prison. It’d be traumatizing and he’d be begging on the inside, but he’d grit his teeth and do it, if push comes to shove. It’s not that. Yongguk is stronger than Youngjae-he’ll make it. So no-prison isn’t the worst.

It’s what it seemed to do to Yongguk and Himchan.

(ripped them apart screaming-pulled at the seams and sliced the thread away until they are both naked and raw and bleeding with nothing to hide them)

“No,” Daehyun whispers, and Youngjae feels those full lips move against the crown of his head-against his hair. “There was something else. It’s not just prison. Something else.”

“It won’t happen to us,” Youngjae says, and he feels incredibly naïve-superbly foolish-horrifically stupid-saying those words. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince.

“No,” Daehyun’s voice is firm-insistent. “It won’t.”

“If it does-”

Daehyun pulls at Youngjae, twisting their bodies so that they’re facing each other. There’s something frighteningly feverish in Daehyun’s eyes as his hands cup Youngjae’s face almost desperately (and it’s suddenly painfully clear that Daehyun is as scared as Youngjae at how real everything is now-it’s real-it’s no longer just a possibility-oh God-it’s reality). “No,” Daehyun repeats. “It won’t.”

forever?

“I’m in,” Daehyun says easily, and he fingers the ticket-freshly printed out from the email. He lifts it from the printer and walks back to his bedroom, wondering what he should pack for Vegas in the fall.

“Great,” and Yongguk’s grin is visible over the phone. “Youngjae’s coming.”

Daehyun smiles. “You know?”

“Himchanie told me.”

“A lot of things happened while you were in, hyung,” Daehyun says softly, but he hears the responding laugh-just as soft, just as meaningful.

There’s a short pause that follows the laugh. “’M just glad you two are happy.”

Daehyun sits on his bed. “Thanks.”

“See you in a few days, Daehyun-ah.”

“Bye, hyung.”