One's Price, One's Worth Part 1/2
Pairing: Hyuksu
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU!Supernatural, minor!Criminal, Romance
Disclaimer: Lien owns Nyx, that's about it. Both own this plot.
Summary: He’s caught in an endless web of greed and corruption, forced to beckon at their every whim. Once freed, this object of a man forgoes it all as he sets his eyes on him.
-
He was pushed off the ledge.
Each dream, every night, ended just the same.
The only part Junsu could take away from the dream was the man who appeared before him, standing on the ledge; the very one who pushed him off.
He couldn’t be distracted by those dreams, however, crouching down to avoid the cameras; only with some difficulty was he able to overcome human made obstacles. He could hear the taunt, in one low voice, exclaiming these very things were-
“Nothing but toys.”
Junsu whisked around.
The steel covered room held dim lights in the corners, barely shedding light on the intruder’s callous smile.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Junsu scowled.
Hyukjae gripped the doorframe above him. “Your father was worried you couldn’t handle such a simple job.” His eyes narrowed over Junsu’s shoulder on the object held in the center of the room. He walked brazenly towards the open display. “They beg for it to be stolen.”
Junsu held back from yelling at the man and turned, “Just let me-”
Hyukjae swiped the stamp from its velvet cushion. “Like this.”
The alarms sounded.
Hyukjae scanned the room at the blinking red lights and then shifted his gaze to the aghast human. “You should run,” he advised simply, disappearing within seconds. Junsu gawked at the man’s blatant escape, leaving him there to quickly run and rush through his hasty flee route.
The feelings wash away; stripping down like layers of dreary pretense until it reaches the core of his emotions, his true self beneath the sketchy surfaces.
Beneath the boundless rain, Junsu stood in that distant street corner, his fists clutched tightly.
A flash of lightning made him look up to see a figure appear in the opposite corner, who mouthed,
“Not fast enough.”
-
“I didn’t need you to interfere.” Junsu glowered at the other man, drying himself off with a towel within the walls of the marble mansion.
Hyukjae settled in the leather chair of the study, twirled the stamp in his hand, playfully cradling it. “A man’s pride can only run so far.”
Junsu tossed the towel over his shoulder and swept the object from his hand. Hyukjae sighed, “You’re always trying to prove yourself to your father. Is his praise that worthy to you?” He asked absentmindedly.
The heirs of company presidents were often expected to outperform their classmates, become the best in their class and hold up the expectations. Junsu’s training was unique, excelling in theft and stealth, a surprise considering the high esteemed reputation his father held for being in charge of a company that others envied for one reason alone.
It was the only company to have Lee Hyukjae in their grasp.
Junsu clutched the stamp. It wasn’t his father’s praise he wanted, nor was it his attention, but his pride prevented him from saying otherwise. Yet Hyukjae stared after him, waiting impatiently for an answer. Rather than giving him one, he turned to leave when he felt his legs become immobile.
“Let me go.”
“Never.” Hyukjae replied coolly, “I asked a question, I expect an answer.”
“You always avoid answering mine.”
“Demons aren’t entitled to answering a human’s curiosity.” It was then that Junsu was released from his invisible grip.
“Some advice,” Hyukjae easily retrieved the item and smirked, “if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go this far.”
Junsu fumed silently, wishing he could retort against it, but they’d both see through his lie. Hyukjae suspected and confirmed Junsu’s feelings with ease, but he didn’t act oblivious to them. Now, it was simply another tool used to provoke him.
It wasn’t fair.
-
It’s been a long time since Junsu’s last heard the ticking of a clock at the strike of midnight in his own bedroom. Everything was so tranquil that it was eerie.
The silence was interrupted by a series on knocks on his door.
He pulled himself out of his chair and approached the door with expectancy, anticipating to see the one and only person who would dare to pester him at this time of night. When he opened the door, it wasn’t the one he had been expecting.
“Is something the matter?”
His butler straightened his posture, raising a letter to his young master. “This is from your father.”
Junsu takes the letter from the man and excuses him. He retreats to the safety of his bed, settling himself atop his comforters, and tears the envelope open as he reaches for the note within. After reading the content, his eyes bulge as he rushes for the door.
His butler is awaiting him. “I’m sorry, Junsu, but I cannot let you leave.”
“But they’ve got Hyukjae!” Junsu protests. “Is Father not going to do anything about this?”
The man simply shakes his head with his head hung low. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
Junsu throws the letter on the ground, releasing a frustrated sigh after he closes the door and slumps back against it. Even if they wouldn’t let him out, he’d find a way out.
He was trained for this.
-
Junsu hides in the shadows, his eyes running over the figure that sits limp in the chair resting in the middle of the room. He pulls his cap lower over his eyes and begins to think, to pace closer and consider all the possibilities of saving or being saved.
When he reaches the chair, he lowers himself beside the figure and runs his fingers over the cold steel shackling the boy’s wrists to the chair.
If this were any other moment, the other would have awakened upon immediate contact.
“Hello there,” Junsu smiles weakly. The lack of response from the other freezes him up, killing his every urge to stay beside this motionless figure.
He knows very well that they’re being watched, inspected, but he doesn’t care.
Junsu reaches over and wraps his fingers around Hyukjae’s wrist. No words form on his lips, but he is speaking to the other boy; saying things with a meaning no word could convey. He’s certain Hyukjae hears them.
“Let go.”
He’s startled by that familiar flat voice that is often commanding and seldom commending. Junsu’s eyes bolt to the person sitting before him; form still slouched on the seat, eyes firm - holding his own gaze with a bitter smile. “You’re awake.”
“Leave,” Hyukjae demands.
“Have you been awake this entire time?” Junsu narrows his eyes.
Hyukjae mirrors the action, trying to pull his hand out of Junsu’s grasp but failing when he comes to the realization that his wrists are bound in place. He hisses.
“We’ll get you out of this nightmare,” Junsu states, and his eyes are filled with confidence.
The other man smirks and, in a single movement - before Junsu can comprehend - their lips are merely centimeters apart. “Are you trying to be an Angel?” Hyukjae mocks.
Junsu cannot hitch his breath, helplessly staring into the intense eyes glaring into his own.
“This isn’t a time to play good-boy,” he continues drawling, “I don’t need your help.”
When his breath returns to him, he scowls at the man in front on him. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Hyukjae grins.
Junsu tries to lean away, but he’s frozen in place when his eyes meet with Hyukjae’s reddening ones.
“I asked you a question,” Hyukjae taunts, but Junsu has no power to reply and react. He has no power over himself. Hyukjae closes the distance between them, sealing the rest of his mockery with a kiss - planting his lips roughly over Junsu’s own.
Then Hyukjae relaxes, his eyes returning to their normal color.
Junsu tears away, shoving Hyukjae back and standing to his feet. “You’re being irrational,” he said, gasping for air.
Hyukjae shrugs, his smile ever present.
After Junsu turns and stalks away, Hyukjae lazily falls back into his chair, throwing his head back and releasing a long sigh. When he opens his eyes again, he stares directly into the surveillance; eyes red, lips upturned into a twisted smirk.
“Is that not what you wanted?”
====
Part II
====
A/N(s):
Nyx: This! Is the reason why we’re so late on our ILCs @.@
Lien: Nyx has been here with me (almost) all the way ;A; BLAME OUR LATE ILC'S ON HER. Just kidding (not really). BUT, Nyx said I’m the peanut sauce to her Spring Rolls :D (I blame my dad for making awesome Spring Rolls!!)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: AU!Supernatural, minor!Criminal, Romance
Disclaimer: Lien owns Nyx, that's about it. Both own this plot.
Summary: He’s caught in an endless web of greed and corruption, forced to beckon at their every whim. Once freed, this object of a man forgoes it all as he sets his eyes on him.
-
He was pushed off the ledge.
Each dream, every night, ended just the same.
The only part Junsu could take away from the dream was the man who appeared before him, standing on the ledge; the very one who pushed him off.
He couldn’t be distracted by those dreams, however, crouching down to avoid the cameras; only with some difficulty was he able to overcome human made obstacles. He could hear the taunt, in one low voice, exclaiming these very things were-
“Nothing but toys.”
Junsu whisked around.
The steel covered room held dim lights in the corners, barely shedding light on the intruder’s callous smile.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” Junsu scowled.
Hyukjae gripped the doorframe above him. “Your father was worried you couldn’t handle such a simple job.” His eyes narrowed over Junsu’s shoulder on the object held in the center of the room. He walked brazenly towards the open display. “They beg for it to be stolen.”
Junsu held back from yelling at the man and turned, “Just let me-”
Hyukjae swiped the stamp from its velvet cushion. “Like this.”
The alarms sounded.
Hyukjae scanned the room at the blinking red lights and then shifted his gaze to the aghast human. “You should run,” he advised simply, disappearing within seconds. Junsu gawked at the man’s blatant escape, leaving him there to quickly run and rush through his hasty flee route.
The feelings wash away; stripping down like layers of dreary pretense until it reaches the core of his emotions, his true self beneath the sketchy surfaces.
Beneath the boundless rain, Junsu stood in that distant street corner, his fists clutched tightly.
A flash of lightning made him look up to see a figure appear in the opposite corner, who mouthed,
“Not fast enough.”
-
“I didn’t need you to interfere.” Junsu glowered at the other man, drying himself off with a towel within the walls of the marble mansion.
Hyukjae settled in the leather chair of the study, twirled the stamp in his hand, playfully cradling it. “A man’s pride can only run so far.”
Junsu tossed the towel over his shoulder and swept the object from his hand. Hyukjae sighed, “You’re always trying to prove yourself to your father. Is his praise that worthy to you?” He asked absentmindedly.
The heirs of company presidents were often expected to outperform their classmates, become the best in their class and hold up the expectations. Junsu’s training was unique, excelling in theft and stealth, a surprise considering the high esteemed reputation his father held for being in charge of a company that others envied for one reason alone.
It was the only company to have Lee Hyukjae in their grasp.
Junsu clutched the stamp. It wasn’t his father’s praise he wanted, nor was it his attention, but his pride prevented him from saying otherwise. Yet Hyukjae stared after him, waiting impatiently for an answer. Rather than giving him one, he turned to leave when he felt his legs become immobile.
“Let me go.”
“Never.” Hyukjae replied coolly, “I asked a question, I expect an answer.”
“You always avoid answering mine.”
“Demons aren’t entitled to answering a human’s curiosity.” It was then that Junsu was released from his invisible grip.
“Some advice,” Hyukjae easily retrieved the item and smirked, “if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go this far.”
Junsu fumed silently, wishing he could retort against it, but they’d both see through his lie. Hyukjae suspected and confirmed Junsu’s feelings with ease, but he didn’t act oblivious to them. Now, it was simply another tool used to provoke him.
It wasn’t fair.
-
It’s been a long time since Junsu’s last heard the ticking of a clock at the strike of midnight in his own bedroom. Everything was so tranquil that it was eerie.
The silence was interrupted by a series on knocks on his door.
He pulled himself out of his chair and approached the door with expectancy, anticipating to see the one and only person who would dare to pester him at this time of night. When he opened the door, it wasn’t the one he had been expecting.
“Is something the matter?”
His butler straightened his posture, raising a letter to his young master. “This is from your father.”
Junsu takes the letter from the man and excuses him. He retreats to the safety of his bed, settling himself atop his comforters, and tears the envelope open as he reaches for the note within. After reading the content, his eyes bulge as he rushes for the door.
His butler is awaiting him. “I’m sorry, Junsu, but I cannot let you leave.”
“But they’ve got Hyukjae!” Junsu protests. “Is Father not going to do anything about this?”
The man simply shakes his head with his head hung low. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know.”
Junsu throws the letter on the ground, releasing a frustrated sigh after he closes the door and slumps back against it. Even if they wouldn’t let him out, he’d find a way out.
He was trained for this.
-
Junsu hides in the shadows, his eyes running over the figure that sits limp in the chair resting in the middle of the room. He pulls his cap lower over his eyes and begins to think, to pace closer and consider all the possibilities of saving or being saved.
When he reaches the chair, he lowers himself beside the figure and runs his fingers over the cold steel shackling the boy’s wrists to the chair.
If this were any other moment, the other would have awakened upon immediate contact.
“Hello there,” Junsu smiles weakly. The lack of response from the other freezes him up, killing his every urge to stay beside this motionless figure.
He knows very well that they’re being watched, inspected, but he doesn’t care.
Junsu reaches over and wraps his fingers around Hyukjae’s wrist. No words form on his lips, but he is speaking to the other boy; saying things with a meaning no word could convey. He’s certain Hyukjae hears them.
“Let go.”
He’s startled by that familiar flat voice that is often commanding and seldom commending. Junsu’s eyes bolt to the person sitting before him; form still slouched on the seat, eyes firm - holding his own gaze with a bitter smile. “You’re awake.”
“Leave,” Hyukjae demands.
“Have you been awake this entire time?” Junsu narrows his eyes.
Hyukjae mirrors the action, trying to pull his hand out of Junsu’s grasp but failing when he comes to the realization that his wrists are bound in place. He hisses.
“We’ll get you out of this nightmare,” Junsu states, and his eyes are filled with confidence.
The other man smirks and, in a single movement - before Junsu can comprehend - their lips are merely centimeters apart. “Are you trying to be an Angel?” Hyukjae mocks.
Junsu cannot hitch his breath, helplessly staring into the intense eyes glaring into his own.
“This isn’t a time to play good-boy,” he continues drawling, “I don’t need your help.”
When his breath returns to him, he scowls at the man in front on him. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” Hyukjae grins.
Junsu tries to lean away, but he’s frozen in place when his eyes meet with Hyukjae’s reddening ones.
“I asked you a question,” Hyukjae taunts, but Junsu has no power to reply and react. He has no power over himself. Hyukjae closes the distance between them, sealing the rest of his mockery with a kiss - planting his lips roughly over Junsu’s own.
Then Hyukjae relaxes, his eyes returning to their normal color.
Junsu tears away, shoving Hyukjae back and standing to his feet. “You’re being irrational,” he said, gasping for air.
Hyukjae shrugs, his smile ever present.
After Junsu turns and stalks away, Hyukjae lazily falls back into his chair, throwing his head back and releasing a long sigh. When he opens his eyes again, he stares directly into the surveillance; eyes red, lips upturned into a twisted smirk.
“Is that not what you wanted?”
====
Part II
====
A/N(s):
Nyx: This! Is the reason why we’re so late on our ILCs @.@
Lien: Nyx has been here with me (almost) all the way ;A; BLAME OUR LATE ILC'S ON HER. Just kidding (not really). BUT, Nyx said I’m the peanut sauce to her Spring Rolls :D (I blame my dad for making awesome Spring Rolls!!)