Bang Bang (He Shot Me Down) - Chapter Five
Title:Bang Bang (He Shot Me Down)
Rating:PG-13
Pairing/Focus:jinki/kibum
Summary: Jinki is a justice-driven detective. Kibum is a thief with too many secrets. Can he bury them for the sake of their relationship? Or will it tear them apart?
There was ringing in his ears. And muffled shouts or something similar. It was strange how he couldn't make the words out, considering the night suddenly felt very cold on his skin. Seeping through his supposedly climate conditioning suit, through his muscles and the racing of his blood. Down into his very bones, the chill grasping at the marrow, settling like new fallen snow. He was pretty sure he could smell snow. But it was only October, it shouldn't be snowing yet. Was it snowing? It that why he felt so cold?
Something slipped from Kibum's fingers and he was fairly certain it was the emergency flare he'd pulled from his belt, sparkling as it hit the balcony floor. His head dropped, looking down to it, and something else entirely caught his eye. A gloved hand rose to his stomach, gently poking the hole in his suit that had not been there before. A spark of fire ignited where his fingertip touched, and the glove was wet when he pulled it away. Was he bleeding?
...Oh god, he was bleeding.
Kibum's head started to swim, making him feel off-kilter. Blackness edged the corners of his vision. He needed to get to a hospital, or Minho, or somebody. Anything. It felt like the world was being tugged out from under his feet,
and then there was nothing.
There was a stunned silence in the seconds following the gun discharging. Jinki hadn't meant to do it, and his heart stopped in his chest.
He'd never shot anyone before.
What he'd assumed in a split second to possibly be a weapon turned out to be a flare igniting. Donghae yelled something next to him. It shook him awake. Key dropped the flare and touched the bleeding wound in his gut, and then he was slipping backwards, off the balcony railing.
It was Jinki's turn to yell, although he's not quite sure what was ripped out of his throat, but his body was already moving. It turned out the balcony was only a few feet off the ground, and he jumped the railing in one go. Splinters of pain went up his legs when he landed on the garden grass, but it was wholly ignored as he stumbled to a now motionless body, knees hitting the ground next to him.
Holy fuck, what did he do?
His fingers hooked into the hole in the fabric of the suit, ripping it open to reveal the small bullet wound from which crimson blood was leaking too quickly. His heart was hammering in his chest. Shaking fingers moved from the wound to the mask Key wore, and his blood was pounding deafeningly in his ears as he ripped that off as well.
He couldn't remember much after that. Silky black hair, high cheek bones, cupid's bow lips, and a sharp, cracking pain against the side of his skull.
----->
He was swimming though layers of blackness, thick and viscous, sticking to his skin. But he needed to wake up. Something extremely important was happening and he needed to wake up. He tried to remember was it was, fleeting echo of pain throbbing through his mind. Pain, yes pain, he needed to hold on to that. He needed to wake up. The echo turned into an annoyance, like buzzing, until it slowly became something solid and aching.
Jinki jerked upright with a sharp breath, immediately groaning as his head throbbed.
"Lay back down, stupid. You'll hurt yourself more."
Opening his eyes, Jinki recognized the interior of Jonghyun's office at the station. He looked around quickly, ignoring both his partner's advice and the pain in his head.
"What happened?"
"You jumped off a balcony, and got clubbed upside the head. You're lucky you don't have a concussion, now lay down." Jonghyun was sitting at his desk, brooding and worried expression painting his face.
"No, I mean, what happened?" Again, Jinki ignored him, sitting up properly on the small couch and touching the sore side of his head.
Jonghyun sighed very softly. "They got away. With the egg. You... shot, one of them, but they still got away."
Jinki raised his head. "One of them?"
"The second one hit you upside the head ad dragged their injured partner, and the egg, away. According to Donghae; who tried to pursue, but ended up getting shot at himself. He's fine, though, he knows how to duck. But you've been out for a while. It's seven in the morning."
Jinki hardly heard the last part, he was trying to remember what happened. He remembered the black out, chasing a thief, and the balcony. He definitely remembered shooting his gun. And he vaguely remembered a flare? Christ, his head hurt.
"Lay back down, Jinki. You're worrying your partner."
"Kibum," Jinki said softly, not really even sure why. Why? Why did Kibum's face come to mind when he tried to remember what happened next?
"Do you want me to call him?"
Jinki shook his head, "no." He stood up slowly. "I need to go."
"You need to sit the fuck back down." Jonghyun was standing now, too.
"I can't." An unexplained urgency was filling his veins, dulling the pain to a low throb and helping him see clearly. "I need to go."
Jonghyun intercepted him at the office door, blocking his path. "Jinki, please-"
"Jjong." He looked the man dead in his soft brown, puppy eyes, not even able to get any more words out. But Jonghyun got the message regardless. He frowned lightly, and gave the smallest of nods, stepping aside.
Jinki wasn't sure what was wrong, or what came over him, but the wiggling roots of paranoia had seeded in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake the ill feeling in his throat. He didn't drive home, he walked. Phone to his ear the entire way. He tried and tried to call, but Kibum wasn't answering his phone. Instead presenting him with a cheerily pleasant voicemail message, at which point he hung up and tried again.
At his complex, he practically vaulted himself up the stairs, and dropped his keys at least twice trying to open his door.
"Kibum?" his voice rang out in the obviously empty apartment. Everything looking the same as it did when he'd left the previous day. Except the bed was made, which Kibum was prone to doing. But there was nothing else. So he left again.
This time, he took a cab, since the art gallery was too far to walk to. His head starting to throb harder, but panic pushed it back. He sent several texts, contents of which got increasingly more urgent the longer the man took to respond.
He practically bolted out of the cab after paying, letting himself into the fancy modern building. There was a man he was pretty sure he'd seen before smiling at him from the front desk as he approached, glasses square and a single dimple on his right cheek.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"Yes, I'm looking for Kibum. Kim Kibum, is he in today?"
"Ah, Kibum, I see. He was supposed to be here today, yes."
"But..," Jinki didn't like the way the man said that.
"But I got an email not too long ago informing me of his resignation. Very poor timing, too. The show is tomorrow."
"Resig-" he could hardly get the word out. "Resignation?"
"Afraid so." The man clicked a few keys on his computer, then gave a nod of affirmation. "He resigned this morning. 'For emergency family reasons', such a shame--uh, Sir?"
Jinki was already running out of the building. His blood was pounding, hot in his ears, aggravating his sore cranium even more-so. It was actually making his vision a little blurred, but he didn't stop running. All the way to Kibum's stupidly nice apartment building. He ran past the doorman, ignoring his protests while shouting "SMPA!" over his shoulder. He made it into the nearest opening elevator and jammed the number 5 button half a dozen times, quickly, then giving the 'door close' button the same treatment.
When the silver doors slid shut and he started to move up, it felt like time was slowing down. He could distinctly hear the sound of his heart, hammering against his ribs in revolt. His fingers were shaking and air was suddenly too thick to breathe in properly. This couldn't be real.
This couldn't be happening.
After what felt like an agonizing age, the doors dinged open and he darted into the hall, screeching to a stop in front of 502. His fist pounded hurriedly on the door, calling out Kibum's name. But there was no answer. And dread was crawling up his throat like bile, crippling his thoughts irrationally. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd taken a step back and kicked the door in, wood splintering as it slammed against the wall inside.
And his heart died in his throat.
Gone.
The simple leather couch where Jinki managed to find the courage to kiss Kibum for the first time, the sleek kitchen that was always well-stocked with good food, the huge plasma television and entertainment unit filled with the dvd's of romance dramas that Kibum forced him to watch on their nights in, the well organized array of shoes by the front door. It was all gone. The apartment was completely bare, not even a hint of dust, or a ghost of the memories he'd shared there. It was a shell. And it was the final crack in his heart.
Jonghyun found him there later. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting against a bare wall, watching the light slowly move through the glass balcony door, moments replaying in his head. He'd tried to help Kibum cook dinner one night and nearly sliced his finger off. Kibum had cleaned up all the blood and bandaged him like a professional, scolded him for being careless, then kissed the pain away. On Kibum's birthday, he'd snuck in and filled the living room with fresh flowers and scented candles and they'd spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing before dressing up to go to a nice dinner. Kibum really liked dressing up. He really liked dressing Jinki up, too, which Jinki never minded. Kibum was touchier when he wore something the man coordinated. And he always looked so proud of his work. Sometimes Jinki would even watch fashion shows with him, and pretend to understand when the man rattled off about designers. They kissed in the rain on that balcony. Kibum had been soaking wet from head to toe, eyes puffy and red from crying. But his watery smile made Jinki's heart feel as though it wanted to leap from his chest and make home in the man's hands. That's when Jinki realized he was in love. When he realized he wanted to be with Kibum, forever.
"Jinki." Jonghyun knelt down next to him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder.
"He's gone," was all Jinki could croak out, not even looking up.
Jonghyun was silent for a moment in response and Jinki sniffled. "What if he's dead?"
"I'm sure he's not dead-"
"But I shot him!" Jinki looked up then, eyes stinging hotly as tears finally formed in them. "I shot him, and took his mask off, and it was him, Jjong. Kibum was Key this whole time, and I shot him, and he was bleeding so fast, and he resigned from work, and there's nothing here, and his phone keeps going to voicemail, and he's probably-"
"Jinki, stop," Jonghyun sighed, running a tired hand over his face. "You're going to hurt yourself worse. C'mon, stand up."
"Jjong." Jinki couldn't believe the indifference, looking at the man in shock. "Kibum was Key, the Ghost Thief, this whole time! I was dating a thief this whole time!"
Another softer sigh fell from Jonghyun's lips, and he met his partner's eyes, sadness and guilt swimming there. "....I know. I already knew."
Jinki's brain was short-fusing again. "What..."
"I suspected him after the British crown getting stolen, investigated him, questioned him. He didn't exactly confess, but he didn't deny it, either," Jonghyun said it all softly, never taking his eyes away. Tears finally spilled over Jinki's cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because a blind man could see how stupidly in love you two were." That guilty tone was back. "And because I made him swear to stop. Not that it apparently did a lot of good."
They broke the eye contact at the same time, both looking down and away, letting the information sink in properly. More tears stung his eyes.
"I never even proposed," his voice was croaking again. "Instead I shot him in the gut."
"We'll find him, Jinki. Now, c'mon. Before the doorman calls the cops." He hooked a hand under Jinki's arm, hefting him off the floor.
"He already called the cops, that's why you're here."
"It was a joke, stupid."
Jonghyun drove him back to his own apartment, and he spent the whole ride slumped against the window, tears dried on his face. His head hurt. A lot. And the world looked like a blur of meaningless noises. When his own door swung in, the apartment felt emptier than usual. Too quiet, even with Jonghyun complaining that it was cold.
"Kibum always turned the heat down before he left, to save money," he mumbled, shuffling to his bedroom with his shoes still on. Jonghyun said something about ordering some take-out because Jinki hadn't eaten all day. He didn't respond, instead, falling heavily into his mattress when he reached it. With a little wiggling, he kicked his shoes off and managed to get his jacket off as well, not even caring about anything else. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep and wake up and have all of this be a bad dream. A really fucking bad dream.
But he couldn't close his eyes, instead finding himself staring at the framed picture on his bedside table. It was from their summer trip to the beach, Kibum had been smiling so wide, digging his toes into the warm sand.
Jinki sighed and tried shutting his eyes. But depriving himself of one sense only heightened others. His pillow smelled like Kibum's shampoo, some fancy salon stuff. And he sighed into it, moving his arms up to hug it, bury his face in it, wish it was the man himself.
It took a second to register that something cold and metallic was touching his hand. Blindly, he grabbed it, and brought it out from under the pillow. It was a mobile phone. Not just a mobile phone, it was Kibum's phone. The one he was never without. And for a moment, Jinki wasn't sure what to do.
He clicked it on, met with yet another photo of their smiling faces, and swiped his finger over the lock screen. It urged for a passcode, and Jinki typed in what he assumed it had to be considering Kibum used the same passcode for everything. It went to the home menu, showing there were 26 missed calls and 17 texts. All from Jinki. So it had been there the whole time. He x-ed out of the notifications and sighed. At least he had something left of Kibum's that hadn't disappeared yet. He swiped to the second menu page, idly looking at the apps since he wasn't tired anyway, when something caught his eye.
A little square with a play symbol on it, and underneath it read, 'for Jinki'. He tapped it with his thumb. It was a video.
It was Kibum, smiling into the camera as he appeared to set the phone down to record. When he was situated, he backed up a little, and fixed his hair.
"Jinki," he started, and paused, the edges of his smiling looking sadly pained. "if ...you're watching this, it probably means I did something stupid. And am unable to say this to you in person. But ...if you're watching this, I want to make sure you hear a few things from me."
On-screen Kibum, let his smile falter then, "you might already know this, but, I'm the 'Ghost Thief' or whatever it is the media calls me. Key ...is what the people who hire me know me as. I am a thief." He kind of shrugged his shoulders. "There's no gentle or pretty way of putting it. I've been stealing things my whole life, basically. It's how I've survived, it's how I..." He paused to put a hand over his face, but drop it quickly, nodding his head. "There's no real way of explaining why without making this video way too long. But I assure you, Key is a persona I've had to adapt out of necessity. My whole life, I've been taking expensive things from rich people for other rich people. And one day I tried to steal from the wrong rich person. Which is why I am in the situation I'm in now. Paying off a debt, by using my skill set. Which is better than the first option he offered me." Jinki could see little video Kibum visibly shudder. "But if you're watching this, it means I either got caught ...or, something as equally bad that caused me to have to ..flee." That pained look was back on his face, nose turning a little pink. "To have to leave you. But I hope you can understand one thing. I never dated you to keep tabs on my case. You probably feel otherwise at the moment. And you probably won't believe me but..." He covered his face with his hand again, but not before Jinki saw the look of anguish. "I love you. You stupid, ridiculous, wonderful man. You've made me feel like I'm actually worth more than back-handed dealings of my trade. You... you make me wish I didn't have to lie to you. You've made me wish I didn't have a reason to lie to you." As tears began slipping down video-Kibum's cheeks, Jinki's eyes started stinging again, assuring him he wasn't dried up yet.
"I used to love my job, Jinki. You have no idea the thrilling rush when you sneak behind ignorant people's backs and claim the beautifully, sparkling things they have that they don't even appreciate or deserve. To hold such secrets on the tip of my tongue, knowing more than the people around me, watching them squirm in unease and confusion. It's ...almost better than sex," a wet sounding, hollow chuckle left his throat, smile half on his face. "I loved my job and I am so fucking good at it." The smile widened a little then. "And then I met you. Bright, shining, noble, wonderful you. Sparkling brighter than anything I'd ever taken. I met you, and you smiled at me, and suddenly, I felt dirty. You were honest and sincere and suddenly, I realized my life was nothing but secrets. Whispers behind closed doors. You made me realize I was missing out on sunlight." Jinki's heart was pounding loudly again, tears not stopping, head aching. "You were my sunlight. And suddenly I could finally see myself, out of the darkness. And I hated everything I saw. But instead of being afraid of you, of slinking back into the dark crevices, I wanted to change. Be different, for you. Because I wanted to be with you, Jinki. I didn't deserve you, but ...God, did I want you. So I made myself a promise." Kibum nodded, wiping his own tears away. "That I would finish repaying my debt, and then it was over. No more ...lying, no more sneaking, and no more stealing. I would pay my debt, and walk away from that life. So that I could be in yours." A sad, heartbreaking smile was back on his beautiful face,brows drawn down sadly. "I love you, Lee Jinki. And no matter what happens ...or what you think of me, that will never change. I love you. And I'm sorry."
The video stopped a few seconds later, and Jinki didn't realize he was shaking until then. Didn't realize he was sobbing so hard until Jonghyun came into the room, voice worried. But the words didn't register in his brain. He could only grip the phone tightly and cry, heart aching more than his head.
Rating:PG-13
Pairing/Focus:jinki/kibum
Summary: Jinki is a justice-driven detective. Kibum is a thief with too many secrets. Can he bury them for the sake of their relationship? Or will it tear them apart?
There was ringing in his ears. And muffled shouts or something similar. It was strange how he couldn't make the words out, considering the night suddenly felt very cold on his skin. Seeping through his supposedly climate conditioning suit, through his muscles and the racing of his blood. Down into his very bones, the chill grasping at the marrow, settling like new fallen snow. He was pretty sure he could smell snow. But it was only October, it shouldn't be snowing yet. Was it snowing? It that why he felt so cold?
Something slipped from Kibum's fingers and he was fairly certain it was the emergency flare he'd pulled from his belt, sparkling as it hit the balcony floor. His head dropped, looking down to it, and something else entirely caught his eye. A gloved hand rose to his stomach, gently poking the hole in his suit that had not been there before. A spark of fire ignited where his fingertip touched, and the glove was wet when he pulled it away. Was he bleeding?
...Oh god, he was bleeding.
Kibum's head started to swim, making him feel off-kilter. Blackness edged the corners of his vision. He needed to get to a hospital, or Minho, or somebody. Anything. It felt like the world was being tugged out from under his feet,
and then there was nothing.
There was a stunned silence in the seconds following the gun discharging. Jinki hadn't meant to do it, and his heart stopped in his chest.
He'd never shot anyone before.
What he'd assumed in a split second to possibly be a weapon turned out to be a flare igniting. Donghae yelled something next to him. It shook him awake. Key dropped the flare and touched the bleeding wound in his gut, and then he was slipping backwards, off the balcony railing.
It was Jinki's turn to yell, although he's not quite sure what was ripped out of his throat, but his body was already moving. It turned out the balcony was only a few feet off the ground, and he jumped the railing in one go. Splinters of pain went up his legs when he landed on the garden grass, but it was wholly ignored as he stumbled to a now motionless body, knees hitting the ground next to him.
Holy fuck, what did he do?
His fingers hooked into the hole in the fabric of the suit, ripping it open to reveal the small bullet wound from which crimson blood was leaking too quickly. His heart was hammering in his chest. Shaking fingers moved from the wound to the mask Key wore, and his blood was pounding deafeningly in his ears as he ripped that off as well.
He couldn't remember much after that. Silky black hair, high cheek bones, cupid's bow lips, and a sharp, cracking pain against the side of his skull.
----->
He was swimming though layers of blackness, thick and viscous, sticking to his skin. But he needed to wake up. Something extremely important was happening and he needed to wake up. He tried to remember was it was, fleeting echo of pain throbbing through his mind. Pain, yes pain, he needed to hold on to that. He needed to wake up. The echo turned into an annoyance, like buzzing, until it slowly became something solid and aching.
Jinki jerked upright with a sharp breath, immediately groaning as his head throbbed.
"Lay back down, stupid. You'll hurt yourself more."
Opening his eyes, Jinki recognized the interior of Jonghyun's office at the station. He looked around quickly, ignoring both his partner's advice and the pain in his head.
"What happened?"
"You jumped off a balcony, and got clubbed upside the head. You're lucky you don't have a concussion, now lay down." Jonghyun was sitting at his desk, brooding and worried expression painting his face.
"No, I mean, what happened?" Again, Jinki ignored him, sitting up properly on the small couch and touching the sore side of his head.
Jonghyun sighed very softly. "They got away. With the egg. You... shot, one of them, but they still got away."
Jinki raised his head. "One of them?"
"The second one hit you upside the head ad dragged their injured partner, and the egg, away. According to Donghae; who tried to pursue, but ended up getting shot at himself. He's fine, though, he knows how to duck. But you've been out for a while. It's seven in the morning."
Jinki hardly heard the last part, he was trying to remember what happened. He remembered the black out, chasing a thief, and the balcony. He definitely remembered shooting his gun. And he vaguely remembered a flare? Christ, his head hurt.
"Lay back down, Jinki. You're worrying your partner."
"Kibum," Jinki said softly, not really even sure why. Why? Why did Kibum's face come to mind when he tried to remember what happened next?
"Do you want me to call him?"
Jinki shook his head, "no." He stood up slowly. "I need to go."
"You need to sit the fuck back down." Jonghyun was standing now, too.
"I can't." An unexplained urgency was filling his veins, dulling the pain to a low throb and helping him see clearly. "I need to go."
Jonghyun intercepted him at the office door, blocking his path. "Jinki, please-"
"Jjong." He looked the man dead in his soft brown, puppy eyes, not even able to get any more words out. But Jonghyun got the message regardless. He frowned lightly, and gave the smallest of nods, stepping aside.
Jinki wasn't sure what was wrong, or what came over him, but the wiggling roots of paranoia had seeded in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake the ill feeling in his throat. He didn't drive home, he walked. Phone to his ear the entire way. He tried and tried to call, but Kibum wasn't answering his phone. Instead presenting him with a cheerily pleasant voicemail message, at which point he hung up and tried again.
At his complex, he practically vaulted himself up the stairs, and dropped his keys at least twice trying to open his door.
"Kibum?" his voice rang out in the obviously empty apartment. Everything looking the same as it did when he'd left the previous day. Except the bed was made, which Kibum was prone to doing. But there was nothing else. So he left again.
This time, he took a cab, since the art gallery was too far to walk to. His head starting to throb harder, but panic pushed it back. He sent several texts, contents of which got increasingly more urgent the longer the man took to respond.
He practically bolted out of the cab after paying, letting himself into the fancy modern building. There was a man he was pretty sure he'd seen before smiling at him from the front desk as he approached, glasses square and a single dimple on his right cheek.
"Can I help you, Sir?"
"Yes, I'm looking for Kibum. Kim Kibum, is he in today?"
"Ah, Kibum, I see. He was supposed to be here today, yes."
"But..," Jinki didn't like the way the man said that.
"But I got an email not too long ago informing me of his resignation. Very poor timing, too. The show is tomorrow."
"Resig-" he could hardly get the word out. "Resignation?"
"Afraid so." The man clicked a few keys on his computer, then gave a nod of affirmation. "He resigned this morning. 'For emergency family reasons', such a shame--uh, Sir?"
Jinki was already running out of the building. His blood was pounding, hot in his ears, aggravating his sore cranium even more-so. It was actually making his vision a little blurred, but he didn't stop running. All the way to Kibum's stupidly nice apartment building. He ran past the doorman, ignoring his protests while shouting "SMPA!" over his shoulder. He made it into the nearest opening elevator and jammed the number 5 button half a dozen times, quickly, then giving the 'door close' button the same treatment.
When the silver doors slid shut and he started to move up, it felt like time was slowing down. He could distinctly hear the sound of his heart, hammering against his ribs in revolt. His fingers were shaking and air was suddenly too thick to breathe in properly. This couldn't be real.
This couldn't be happening.
After what felt like an agonizing age, the doors dinged open and he darted into the hall, screeching to a stop in front of 502. His fist pounded hurriedly on the door, calling out Kibum's name. But there was no answer. And dread was crawling up his throat like bile, crippling his thoughts irrationally. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd taken a step back and kicked the door in, wood splintering as it slammed against the wall inside.
And his heart died in his throat.
Gone.
The simple leather couch where Jinki managed to find the courage to kiss Kibum for the first time, the sleek kitchen that was always well-stocked with good food, the huge plasma television and entertainment unit filled with the dvd's of romance dramas that Kibum forced him to watch on their nights in, the well organized array of shoes by the front door. It was all gone. The apartment was completely bare, not even a hint of dust, or a ghost of the memories he'd shared there. It was a shell. And it was the final crack in his heart.
Jonghyun found him there later. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting against a bare wall, watching the light slowly move through the glass balcony door, moments replaying in his head. He'd tried to help Kibum cook dinner one night and nearly sliced his finger off. Kibum had cleaned up all the blood and bandaged him like a professional, scolded him for being careless, then kissed the pain away. On Kibum's birthday, he'd snuck in and filled the living room with fresh flowers and scented candles and they'd spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing before dressing up to go to a nice dinner. Kibum really liked dressing up. He really liked dressing Jinki up, too, which Jinki never minded. Kibum was touchier when he wore something the man coordinated. And he always looked so proud of his work. Sometimes Jinki would even watch fashion shows with him, and pretend to understand when the man rattled off about designers. They kissed in the rain on that balcony. Kibum had been soaking wet from head to toe, eyes puffy and red from crying. But his watery smile made Jinki's heart feel as though it wanted to leap from his chest and make home in the man's hands. That's when Jinki realized he was in love. When he realized he wanted to be with Kibum, forever.
"Jinki." Jonghyun knelt down next to him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder.
"He's gone," was all Jinki could croak out, not even looking up.
Jonghyun was silent for a moment in response and Jinki sniffled. "What if he's dead?"
"I'm sure he's not dead-"
"But I shot him!" Jinki looked up then, eyes stinging hotly as tears finally formed in them. "I shot him, and took his mask off, and it was him, Jjong. Kibum was Key this whole time, and I shot him, and he was bleeding so fast, and he resigned from work, and there's nothing here, and his phone keeps going to voicemail, and he's probably-"
"Jinki, stop," Jonghyun sighed, running a tired hand over his face. "You're going to hurt yourself worse. C'mon, stand up."
"Jjong." Jinki couldn't believe the indifference, looking at the man in shock. "Kibum was Key, the Ghost Thief, this whole time! I was dating a thief this whole time!"
Another softer sigh fell from Jonghyun's lips, and he met his partner's eyes, sadness and guilt swimming there. "....I know. I already knew."
Jinki's brain was short-fusing again. "What..."
"I suspected him after the British crown getting stolen, investigated him, questioned him. He didn't exactly confess, but he didn't deny it, either," Jonghyun said it all softly, never taking his eyes away. Tears finally spilled over Jinki's cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because a blind man could see how stupidly in love you two were." That guilty tone was back. "And because I made him swear to stop. Not that it apparently did a lot of good."
They broke the eye contact at the same time, both looking down and away, letting the information sink in properly. More tears stung his eyes.
"I never even proposed," his voice was croaking again. "Instead I shot him in the gut."
"We'll find him, Jinki. Now, c'mon. Before the doorman calls the cops." He hooked a hand under Jinki's arm, hefting him off the floor.
"He already called the cops, that's why you're here."
"It was a joke, stupid."
Jonghyun drove him back to his own apartment, and he spent the whole ride slumped against the window, tears dried on his face. His head hurt. A lot. And the world looked like a blur of meaningless noises. When his own door swung in, the apartment felt emptier than usual. Too quiet, even with Jonghyun complaining that it was cold.
"Kibum always turned the heat down before he left, to save money," he mumbled, shuffling to his bedroom with his shoes still on. Jonghyun said something about ordering some take-out because Jinki hadn't eaten all day. He didn't respond, instead, falling heavily into his mattress when he reached it. With a little wiggling, he kicked his shoes off and managed to get his jacket off as well, not even caring about anything else. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep and wake up and have all of this be a bad dream. A really fucking bad dream.
But he couldn't close his eyes, instead finding himself staring at the framed picture on his bedside table. It was from their summer trip to the beach, Kibum had been smiling so wide, digging his toes into the warm sand.
Jinki sighed and tried shutting his eyes. But depriving himself of one sense only heightened others. His pillow smelled like Kibum's shampoo, some fancy salon stuff. And he sighed into it, moving his arms up to hug it, bury his face in it, wish it was the man himself.
It took a second to register that something cold and metallic was touching his hand. Blindly, he grabbed it, and brought it out from under the pillow. It was a mobile phone. Not just a mobile phone, it was Kibum's phone. The one he was never without. And for a moment, Jinki wasn't sure what to do.
He clicked it on, met with yet another photo of their smiling faces, and swiped his finger over the lock screen. It urged for a passcode, and Jinki typed in what he assumed it had to be considering Kibum used the same passcode for everything. It went to the home menu, showing there were 26 missed calls and 17 texts. All from Jinki. So it had been there the whole time. He x-ed out of the notifications and sighed. At least he had something left of Kibum's that hadn't disappeared yet. He swiped to the second menu page, idly looking at the apps since he wasn't tired anyway, when something caught his eye.
A little square with a play symbol on it, and underneath it read, 'for Jinki'. He tapped it with his thumb. It was a video.
It was Kibum, smiling into the camera as he appeared to set the phone down to record. When he was situated, he backed up a little, and fixed his hair.
"Jinki," he started, and paused, the edges of his smiling looking sadly pained. "if ...you're watching this, it probably means I did something stupid. And am unable to say this to you in person. But ...if you're watching this, I want to make sure you hear a few things from me."
On-screen Kibum, let his smile falter then, "you might already know this, but, I'm the 'Ghost Thief' or whatever it is the media calls me. Key ...is what the people who hire me know me as. I am a thief." He kind of shrugged his shoulders. "There's no gentle or pretty way of putting it. I've been stealing things my whole life, basically. It's how I've survived, it's how I..." He paused to put a hand over his face, but drop it quickly, nodding his head. "There's no real way of explaining why without making this video way too long. But I assure you, Key is a persona I've had to adapt out of necessity. My whole life, I've been taking expensive things from rich people for other rich people. And one day I tried to steal from the wrong rich person. Which is why I am in the situation I'm in now. Paying off a debt, by using my skill set. Which is better than the first option he offered me." Jinki could see little video Kibum visibly shudder. "But if you're watching this, it means I either got caught ...or, something as equally bad that caused me to have to ..flee." That pained look was back on his face, nose turning a little pink. "To have to leave you. But I hope you can understand one thing. I never dated you to keep tabs on my case. You probably feel otherwise at the moment. And you probably won't believe me but..." He covered his face with his hand again, but not before Jinki saw the look of anguish. "I love you. You stupid, ridiculous, wonderful man. You've made me feel like I'm actually worth more than back-handed dealings of my trade. You... you make me wish I didn't have to lie to you. You've made me wish I didn't have a reason to lie to you." As tears began slipping down video-Kibum's cheeks, Jinki's eyes started stinging again, assuring him he wasn't dried up yet.
"I used to love my job, Jinki. You have no idea the thrilling rush when you sneak behind ignorant people's backs and claim the beautifully, sparkling things they have that they don't even appreciate or deserve. To hold such secrets on the tip of my tongue, knowing more than the people around me, watching them squirm in unease and confusion. It's ...almost better than sex," a wet sounding, hollow chuckle left his throat, smile half on his face. "I loved my job and I am so fucking good at it." The smile widened a little then. "And then I met you. Bright, shining, noble, wonderful you. Sparkling brighter than anything I'd ever taken. I met you, and you smiled at me, and suddenly, I felt dirty. You were honest and sincere and suddenly, I realized my life was nothing but secrets. Whispers behind closed doors. You made me realize I was missing out on sunlight." Jinki's heart was pounding loudly again, tears not stopping, head aching. "You were my sunlight. And suddenly I could finally see myself, out of the darkness. And I hated everything I saw. But instead of being afraid of you, of slinking back into the dark crevices, I wanted to change. Be different, for you. Because I wanted to be with you, Jinki. I didn't deserve you, but ...God, did I want you. So I made myself a promise." Kibum nodded, wiping his own tears away. "That I would finish repaying my debt, and then it was over. No more ...lying, no more sneaking, and no more stealing. I would pay my debt, and walk away from that life. So that I could be in yours." A sad, heartbreaking smile was back on his beautiful face,brows drawn down sadly. "I love you, Lee Jinki. And no matter what happens ...or what you think of me, that will never change. I love you. And I'm sorry."
The video stopped a few seconds later, and Jinki didn't realize he was shaking until then. Didn't realize he was sobbing so hard until Jonghyun came into the room, voice worried. But the words didn't register in his brain. He could only grip the phone tightly and cry, heart aching more than his head.