Panic Switch
Title: Panic Switch
Pairing: L.Joe/Ricky
Genre: AU, Angst, Crime
W/C: 6,545
Summary: This life of gangs and violence wasn’t meant for Ricky, and Byunghun will do anything he can to protect him.
A/N: This was originally going to be much shorter (like half of what it is now) but livejournal was still going through errors when I tried to post it. Because lj wouldn’t let me post, I ended up going back and editing and adding to it a lot more than I did before. All I can say is that I’m actually kind of glad lj had those errors, because without them, this story wouldn’t have become what it is now, haha. ^^
It’s a lot like looking into the midnight sky and seeing no moon, no stars. No matter where you look, the sky is just empty and black, and there’s something about an empty night sky that’s entirely unsettling. Something that makes you feel alone. And there’s something about feeling alone, under the pitch black night sky that makes the panic set in; panic that claws its way to your heart, pulls at your lungs.
That’s sort of what it’s like; what watching the one person you care about more than anything else in this corrupted world crumble to the ground before you, a bloody mess, is like.
But it’s different, too. There’s more feelings, more emotions involved.
There’s a hell of a lot more panic, too.
After the panic invades, the hysteria comes waltzing in, hand in hand with panic and settles down into your head and heart like an old friend. And then that hysteria takes over, and you’re screaming and crying and begging the stars to just please shine, for just a minute, so you’re not so damn alone under this damned sea of black velvet.
That’s sort of how Byunghun feels right now, kneeling on the ground in a disgusting, dark alley, next to Ricky. He presses one of his hands gingerly to the bullet wound on the younger’s abdomen. Within seconds his hand is coated with a sticky red substance, and oh god, Byunghun barely manages to stop himself from throwing up the measly dinner he had.
He had seen blood before -- god, he’s seen so much blood -- but it’s different now. Having the blood of a stranger on your hands is different, way different, from having your best friend’s blood on your hands.
Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this.
It was just a goddamn reconnaissance mission; it wasn’t meant to be dangerous. No one was supposed to get hurt.
The younger one coughs weakly, and Byunghun can barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots going off that’s replaying through his head like some sick mantra.
“Ricky.” He mumbles, reaching a hand out to support the boys neck. Something drips onto to his wrist. It’s then that Byunghun realizes this is worse, so much worse than he thought because he didn’t get shot once, he got shot twice. He’s got a bullet in his shoulder, too, and it’s bleeding just as much as the wound in his abdomen. He’s trying so fucking hard not to freak out, to keep himself together, for Ricky’s sake, but he can’t, because he knows if he doesn’t do something, the gunshot wounds will bleed Ricky dry... and he’ll be gone.
He doesn’t want Ricky to go, especially not like this.
The boy moves a little in his arms, tries to raise his head to look at Byunghun, but gives up; the blood loss is making him dizzy and weak. “It hurts,” Ricky barely manages to croak out.
“I know.” Reluctantly he puts the boy back on the bloodstained cement. He doesn’t want to, no, but he has to do something to help, and even though all he wants is to cradle the boy in his arms, he knows that won’t help. “I know it hurts, baby. I know it does. Just hold on, okay? Hold on for me, Ricky.”
He pulls his shirt up and over his head faster than he’s ever undressed before, and then he’s tearing it in two. He takes one piece and wraps it around Ricky’s waist, over the first bullet hole. The injured boy winces and cries out at the pressure and tightness when Byunghun ties it with a quick, messy knot. Immediately his hand is in Ricky’s hair, trying to soothe him, trying to do anything to get that look of complete and utter pain off his face. “Shh.” He coos, his thumb stroking the other’s forehead. “I’m gonna get you back to Minsoo. He’ll know what to do. You’ll be okay, Ricky. You’ll be okay.”
‘You’ll be okay’ falls from his lips over and over again, as if saying it enough times will make it true. He’s repeating it more to assure himself rather than the boy; the words don’t really seem to process in Ricky’s mind.
He reaches for the second half of his shirt, and he’s about to turn it into a make-shift bandage for his shoulder when Ricky’s strained, hoarse voice stops him. “Don’t.” He whispers, looking at the cloth in Byunghun’s bloodied hands.
“What?”
“That’s... your... favorite shirt. Wouldn’t want to... ruin it...” Talking right now is too much for him, and his eyes flutter closed. The blood loss finally gets to him, rendering him unconscious. His last bit of energy is wasted on those words. Meaningless words. He’s stupid, so stupid. He should have saved his breath, goddammit.
He laughs, not because he thinks this is funny-he’s a little fucked up, but finding humor in this situation is on a whole new level- but because he’s so damn frustrated. Leave it to Ricky to worry about something so stupid and mundane instead of himself.
Against his better judgment, he shakes the boy. “Wake up. Fuck, Ricky, wake up.”
He doesn’t stir.
A bunch of oh god, no’s and what if’s swirl around in his head. He finds himself praying to the God he thought he stopped believing in years ago to just please let Ricky be alright.
What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if it’s too late? Panic closes its iron fist around Byunghun’s heart for one long, dreadful moment. It crushes and squeezes his chest and he doesn’t think it will ever stop, until he sees Ricky’s chest rise and fall.
He’s still breathing.
The panic eases away. It isn’t completely gone; it still dwells on the outskirts of his heart, but he can breath just fraction of a bit easier knowing that Ricky is alive.
He finishes tying the fabric of what was his shirt around Ricky’s shoulder, and gently, oh so gently, he lifts the boy up. He’s scared any movement might hurt him more, and god he doesn’t want that. Ricky doesn’t deserve that pain, doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s sixteen for fuck’s sake.
This life isn’t meant for him. It never has been.
But is this life meant for any of them, really? Are the rest of them meant to live out their lives in fear and pointless violence? Byunghun doesn’t have an answer for that. This life is the only one he’s ever known, and the gang is the only family he’s ever had. Questioning it doesn’t seem right.
But does that make living it any more right?
He cradles Ricky’s head against his chest, because all he wants, no, needs right now is for Ricky to be close to him.
Looking at the mouth of the alley, Byunghun wonders just what it is he should do now. Run or walk? Running might irritate the younger’s wounds, injure him even more, but if he doesn’t get back to headquarters soon then Ricky might...
He presses a kiss to the unconscious boy’s forehead and whispers, “I love you.” He’s got this haunting voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him that Ricky might not make it out of this, and if that’s the case - God, Byunghun hopes not - he wants the first time he tells Ricky how he feels to be while the boy is still alive. He might not hear him but... anything is better than confessing to his corpse.
As he smooths the hair on his forehead, he comforts himself with the ridiculous thought that Ricky is alright, that he’s just sleeping.
Then he takes off running.
Byunghun paces around the hallway outside of Ricky’s room. Minsoo had told him that he needed to ‘get the fuck out while Niel’s working.’ According to him, his pacing would ‘break his concentration.’ As much as he had wanted to protest, he couldn’t. He might be Minsoo’s right hand man, but Minsoo was still the boss; Byunghun couldn’t disobey.
He glances back at the door to the makeshift operating room and groans. He needs to know if Ricky’s alright. He needs to know if he’s alive. He needs to be in there. With an aggravated yell, his fist connects to the closet tangible thing to him - the wall. The force he put into the punch is enough to send one of the many, tacky paintings that cover the walls crashing to the floor.
There’s a mess of glass and canvas and who-the-fuck-cares at the bottom of his feet, but he pays no attention. He should be picking it up, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stupidly kicks at the pile, as if it’s the source of all of his anger and problems. He stumbles backwards when a large shard of glass stabs his foot, through his boot. “Fuck.”
It stings, but he knows it’s nothing compared to the pain that Ricky is going through right now. That thought angers him even more, and he kicks the pile again, not even caring to take the piece of glass that was stuck in his foot out. He kicks it again and again, as if the glass is the scum that did this to Ricky. When he’s done, there’s chunks of glass, small and large, stuck in his shoe and embedded in his foot, and damn, it hurts.
It hurts a lot, but he feels like he shouldn’t complain about the pain, not even in his thoughts. He feels guilty for it. Ricky is going through worse.
He doesn’t move to take the glass out of his foot. If Ricky’s suffering, then he should be too.
He looks up from the floor to see Changjo leaning against the wall opposite him. “Christ.” He says, startled. “When did you get there?”
The younger boy shrugs and pushes himself off the wall. “I’ve been here long enough to know that you’ve got some weird, masochistic tendencies.” He kneels down in front of the blond and holds out his hand expectantly. “Let me see your foot.”
“What?” Byunghun asks.
Rolling his eyes, the younger says, “Give me your foot so I can get the glass out, dumb ass.”
Byunghun doesn’t have the chance to comply, because before he can put his foot in the other’s hand, Changjo grabs it, throwing off his balance. A hand reaches back behind him to brace himself against the wall, so he doesn’t fall over completely. “Some warning would be nice.”
He ignores him, and instead tugs off his boot. He sucks in some breath at the site of his friend’s shredded foot. “Doing this to yourself isn’t going to help him, Byunghun.”
He closes his eyes as Changjo pulls the glass out. “I know.” He mumbles, feeling a little ashamed.
“He’s too stubborn to die, you know. That kid loves life too much to let go. He’ll be alright.”
Sometime during the process of Changjo righting his foot again, Minsoo comes out of Ricky’s room. He sends the two a questioning glance, but when he sees the fist-sized dent in the wall and the glass on the floor it all makes sense.
Byunghun always did have a temper.
“Will he be alright?” Byunghun asks as soon as the eldest approaches. When Minsoo nods, the tension in Byunghun’s body visibly lightens.
He’ll be alright. Thank god. Byunghun’s never been this happy in his life. He wants to cry from how relieved he is, but he can’t. Not with the other two here.
“Niel fixed him up real nice, but that bullet hole in his shoulder is infected.” At the concerned look on Byunghun’s face he quickly adds, “It’s no big deal, really. The infection will go away with some meds. Niel has him practically eating pills by the pound. It’s a damn good thing the one in his stomach isn’t infected. He needs to stay in bed for awhile, though. Walking with that hole in his abs isn’t going to be too fun.”
Changjo stands up then, having gotten what he could of the glass out of Byunghun’s foot, and wipes his hands on his jeans.
“Hey, Changjo, d’you think you could leave us alone for a bit? I need to talk to him.”
He nods, his hand flying to his head in a mock salute. “No problem, CAP,” He says, starting to walk down the hallway.
Minsoo smiles slightly at the old nickname - CAP, short for captain. When Changjo is gone, he turns back to Byunghun.
Byunghun’s pretty sure he knows what the older is going to say; he’s known him longer than anyone else, and he’s damn easy to read. He knows what he’s going to ask, but he’s just not ready for the interrogation yet.
“What the hell is up with you, man?” This is possibly one of the only questions that Minsoo really wants to know the answer to. He’s never seen Byunghun like this. Never. Byunghun, the best damn soldier in his ranks, his second in command, who’s always stoic as fuck and only cares about work, work, work never gets this worked up about anything. Never.
He should have known it was just a front. Even cold hearted gangsters such as themselves have feelings.
“I’m just worried about him.” Byunghun answers honestly. Even now, despite Minsoo’s reassurance that Ricky will be okay, somewhere in the back of his mind he’s worried that something else could go wrong. Fucking paranoia.
“Yeah, so am I, but I didn’t put my hand through a wall and fuck up my foot because of it. There’s something else, Byunghun. Don’t try lying and telling me there isn’t, either. I know you. I know when you’re lying.”
The younger blond glances away, staring at the floor behind Minsoo.
“You never look at me when you lie.”
That’s true. He can lie perfectly to a stranger’s face, but when it comes to family, he can’t bring himself to look at them when he lies. He’s too ashamed.
Byunghun takes a deep breath. He could make something up, but it’s right; Minsoo would be able to spot his lie from a mile away. He has no other option but to tell him the truth. “I love him, Minsoo. So fucking much.” He leans his head back against the wall. “And I keep thinking that he’s in there because of me. He doesn’t deserve this, y’know?”
Ricky is too young, too innocent to have to experience any of this. These streets aren’t meant for a kid like him. They chew you up, and when they spit you back out, you’re hardened, changed for the worse, and left with too many graphic images that you can’t forget, no matter how hard you try.
God only knows how much twisted shit Byunghun’s seen on these streets. He’s seen so many fights, so many junkies - most barely even older than himself - doing whatever the hell it is that they can do to get money for their next fix, and so many girls out on the streets selling their bodies for some quick cash.
He’s seen people die.
He’s seen people die by his hand.
And god damn does he wish that Ricky doesn’t have to be exposed to any of it. The world of gangs and street rivalries isn’t the world Ricky belongs in. Even if him not having any part in this sort of life meant that Byunghun would have never met him, he would rather that happen than have Ricky live like this.
Because Ricky deserves better, even if ‘better’ is away from here, away from Byunghun.
Sighing, Minsoo runs a hand through his hair. “Alright.” It’s not a particularly appropriate response, but Minsoo hasn’t ever been very good at comforting people. Byunghun will be able to get what he means, anyways.
“You’re not... mad?”
“I’m a little weirded out,” he replies honestly, cracking a small smile. “But I’m not mad. You’re like my brother, Byunghun. I still love you, man, even if you swing my way.”
Byunghun chuckles a little. That was good to know, really good. He had had this scenario pictured out in his mind, and the worst case scenario ended in Minsoo kicking him out to the streets, alone. The last thing you want is to be alone on the streets without a gang. No one can last without someone to have their back.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Can... can I go see him now?”
Minsoo shakes his head, and Byunghun’s heart drops a little. “Tell me what the fuck happened out there first. You can go see him after, I promise.”
Sighing, Byunghun begins to retell what happened. “We got to that warehouse,” he starts. “But it wasn’t Soohyun’s gang’s hideout. It was a setup.” He closes his eyes, trying to block the unpleasant images from surfacing again. “We walked in and they were just... waiting for us. I screamed at Ricky to get the fuck out of there, ‘cause I knew he wasn’t ready to fight or see any of that. Hell, he doesn’t even know how to fire a gun and...”
He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.“There were ten or so guys, and I was just so focused on taking each motherfucker down that I didn’t realize Ricky got shot. If I had been more aware...” He opens his eyes again, but avoids looking at Minsoo. “It should have been me. I was the one fighting, not him. Why wasn’t it me who got shot? I don’t get why it had to be him...” His voice trails off a little, and his gaze on the floor hardens.
“And no,” he continues, weakly trying to compose himself and get back on topic, “I don’t know who it was. It wasn’t Soohyun’s gang, though. I don’t think it was any of the other Seoul gangs, to be honest. They didn’t look familiar. I don’t know where the fuck Chunji got his intel, but-”
“You trying to say Chunji betrayed us?” CAP interrupts.
Quickly, Byunghun shakes his head. “No, no, no. You’re taking this shit the wrong way, Minsoo. He’s family, and you know I trust him with my life. He wouldn’t do that to us.” Narrowing his eyes at the elder, he says, “And I’m offended that you think I would think so lowly of him. I’m just saying that they misled him, too. Whoever ‘they’ are.”
Minsoo pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Well shit.” His forehead wrinkles with stress. “You can go see him now, if you want.”
He takes one more look at his frustrated leader before heading into Ricky’s room.
After kicking Niel out - much to the “doctor’s” distaste - he sits down on the edge of Ricky’s bed. He’s sleeping, but he looks anything but peaceful. His skin is pale, hair matted, and there are a few bruises - probably from hitting the cement when he was shot - that Byunghun must have not noticed in his panic.
He looks so frail, so damn frail.
The guilt that’s been nagging at him since Ricky got shot is back again, and he feels terrible. The guilt is drumming away in his brain, and that’s all he can focus on. It won’t go away, and that’s driving him crazy.
Next to him, Ricky stirs, and Byunghun just watches as his eyes slowly open.
“Byunghun?” The smaller boy asks, innocent black eyes looking at him curiously.
“Hey.” Byunghun mumbles, because he’s afraid if he speaks any louder it might disturb the boy. Tentatively, he reaches out and grabs his hand. His heart flutters a bit at the wide grin that spreads across Ricky’s face when he laces their fingers together.
He wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what. A billion and one thoughts are running around in his head, but none of them seem right. But there is one, one tiny little thought, and it doesn’t really have to do with talking, per se. He really, really doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but it’s the only thought that stands out.
Without caring about what the other’s reaction might be, he leans over and presses his lips to Ricky’s.
This could probably end badly, really badly.
Byunghun doesn’t care.
Before all of this happened, he would have never been this bold. He would have rather kept his feelings hidden so he could wallow in them by himself, than act on them as he is at the moment. But now, after having to deal with those torturous ‘what if’s’ that came along with Ricky getting injured, he’s forgotten all about his discretion and caution. He doesn’t care about the possibility of rejection. He can deal with that. That won’t hurt too bad. That’s nothing compared to the horrific thoughts of Ricky’s death that his mind conjured up.
Ricky tenses a little, but doesn’t protest. Encouraged by the lack of objection, he snakes a hand around his head, his fingers ghosting over the back of his neck.
Hesitantly, Ricky starts to kiss back. Byunghun smiles into the kiss at his shy response. He can tell the other is a little confused, and that he doesn’t really have any idea what he’s doing due to inexperience... but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Ricky is here, safe in his arms.
Reluctantly, he pulls his lips away, but stays close. His hand cups the younger’s cheeks. “I was so scared,” he whispers. “I thought I might lose you. I was so scared,” he repeats. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Ricky. I’m so fucking glad.”
He takes his hand away from Ricky’s face, and instead places it in Ricky’s own. “I have no idea what I would have done if... if you-” His voice cracks, and he’s having a hard time keeping himself from crying.
“You shouldn’t have worried so much,” Ricky says, smiling a little. He doesn’t like the look of anguish on the older boy’s face. “It’s not too big of a deal... I’ve finally got my very own battle scars! Well, they’re not scars yet but...”
Byunghun laughs, really laughs, because Ricky is so dumb, making a joke about getting shot like it’s nothing, like it happens all the time. Only him.
He slides into the bed next to Ricky, and the younger’s smile grows. He snuggles into Byunghun’s side - at least as much as his wounds will allow - and rests his head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of the blond’s heartbeat. It’s soothing.
After a peaceful moment or three, Ricky breaks their tranquil silence. “I had a weird dream after I got shot.”
“What was it about?” Byunghun asks, absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of Ricky’s hand.
“It was dark.” Ricky recalls. “It was weird; I don’t think I could see anything... but I remember hearing you.” His voice gets quieter as he continues. “You said you loved me.”
Byunghun’s breath catches in his throat because how is it possible that Ricky had heard him?
“That... wasn’t a dream.” He says. Again, it’s another one of those things that he would have never done before. Before, he would have denied that it actually happened. He wouldn’t have the courage to say what he was about to.
“So you really said that, then?” Ricky asks, a small amount of disbelief in his voice that upsets Byunghun just a little bit.
A low ‘mhm’ comes from Byunghun’s throat as confirmation.
“And you really meant it?” Ricky asks, looking up at the blond with those big eyes he loves so much.
He looks back at the younger boy in his arms and nods. “I meant it, Ricky. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He squeezes the black haired boy’s hand. “I love you. I really, really do.”
Ricky smiles wide, his eyes crinkling at the edges and all of his teeth exposed. It’s such a look of childish glee and happiness, one that Byunghun doesn’t remember ever seeing Ricky sport, and it only makes him vow to make sure nothing ever happens to the beautiful, innocent boy before him. To make sure he’s always that happy. To make sure that he smiles as much as possible, despite what’s going on in the world around them.
This life really wasn’t meant for Ricky, but Byunghun can’t change that.
There’s no escaping this life for either of them.
The only thing he can do is make it a little easier for him, a little more bearable.
The only thing he can do is protect him with his life.
The only thing he can do is promise to love him.
For the next few days, Byunghun doesn’t leave Ricky’s side. He stays in his room, playing nurse. When Ricky needs something, he gets it. When Ricky wants to complain about the pain, he lets him. When Ricky yells at him because the pain makes him irritable, he sits there and takes it. He’ll let Ricky do anything he wants. Ricky deserves the world, he thinks, and he can’t give that to him. So he tries his damned hardest to give him just a fraction of that world, of what he should have.
It’s only the fourth day after the incident that Minsoo pulls him out of the room.
They have to talk business, he says.
They’re all seated around the rectangular table of their meeting room. Everyone knows what this is about. The ambush.
“Chunji,” Minsoo starts, looking at the boy seated across from him. “Who’d you get that intel from?”
“Kevin.”
Byunghun thought that when they found out who Chunji got his intelligence from, everything would fall into place. He thought it would explain the setup, and that everything would make sesnse.
But this? This doesn’t make sense. Kevin is Chunji’s brother, Chunji’s neutral, not-affiliated with any gangs brother. He’s never liked the gangs, so he lives far, far away from them, in a nice little flat in a piece of neutral territory that’s sandwiched between Minsoo’s gang’s land and Sunggyu’s. He hates the gangs, hates everything they stand for - do they stand for anything at all? - but he loves his little brother. He hears a lot, living in a place between two gangs’ land. Anything useful he hears gets relayed back to Chunji, because if his brother is going to live this life, he better damn well be informed.
He wouldn’t set them up. He wouldn’t.
So that’s what Byunghun says.
“He’s close with Soohyun and the guys in his gang,” Minsoo replies, tapping on the table. “So he would know whether or not it was really their hideout. It’s not like he can be misinformed about that, not when he’s sleeping with their second in command.”
Chunji tenses. He doesn’t much like people talking about his brother, especially not about that. It’s always been a soft spot. He refuses to go on any assignments or to any fights that he knows will involve Soohyun’s gang. He has too close of a tie with them.
They’re like an extended family, of sorts.
Before anyone can blow up - because Chunji, pretty little Chunji, gets pissed off and explodes so easily when his brother is mentioned - Changjo interrupts. “Someone put him up to this, then.”
They stare at him.
It’s amazing, really, how intuitive he is. Byunghun always forgets that he’s not his age. He acts so much more mature than any boy who’s barely sixteen should act. He’s rational and smart, and overall, a great asset for the family.
Chunji seems the most affected by this realization. “Then what if he’s in trouble right now?” He thinks aloud. “I need to go make sure he’s alright.” He pushes his chair backwards and a sickening screech comes from the wood grating against the floor. He’s out the door faster than anyone has the chance to say ‘wait!’
“Byunghun,” Minsoo stands up. “Go with him. He could be walking into another ambush, and like hell I’ll let him go alone.”
The blond nods at their boss. “Can I go see Ricky, first? I just want to tell him-”
‘I want to tell him what’s going on,’ is what he wants to say, but he doesn’t get the chance to. He stops talking when Minsoo shakes his head.
“You don’t have time. Chunji doesn’t think before he does anything. He’s probably getting ready to get on the bus to Kevin’s right now. Go after him. Ricky can wait; you’ll see him when you get back. Don’t worry,” Byunghun isn’t sure if that look on Minsoo’s face is a sneer, grimace, smile or what, “I’ll tell him you love him or whatever it is you lovebirds say to each other.”
With a bitter laugh, he mumbles to himself - but Byunghun can still hear him. “Being in love. Must be real nice, huh? Too bad I’ve never felt it.”
He’s not sure what to say to that.
Byunghun decides it’s better not to say anything at all.
Something weird happens when they get to Kevin’s apartment.
Byunghun feels nervous. He’s never nervous when he’s in the field. Never.
As they walk up the stairs to Kevin’s floor, he can’t help but feel like this is the ambush all over again. They’re walking into a trap, he can feel it. When they open the door to the apartment, there’s going to be men in there, with guns trained on them. Something is going to happen to Chunji, just like it happened with Ricky, and he can’t bear to deal with that again.
They approach the door now, and anxiously, Byunghun puts his hand on the gun that holstered at his waist, just in case.
When Chunji opens the door, Byunghun braces himself for the worst.
But there’s no one there, no one but Kevin, lounging on his living room sofa.
He’s startled by their intrusion, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they’re there. “So you guys are okay? Thank god,” he says, hurrying to where they’re standing. “No one got hurt, right...?”
He likes Kevin. He’s a good man - his reluctance to get involved with the gangs is a testament to that - but right now, his concern is anything but welcomed. It almost feels like a slap to the face. Byunghun narrows his eyes. “Ricky got shot. Twice.” He leaves off ‘thanks to you.’
“I’m sorry.” Kevin looks Byunghun straight in the eye when he says that. It’s respectable, how he meets his eyes with no fear. It makes his apology seem more sincere. It also makes Byunghun feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t want an apology. Apologies aren’t going to change what happened. He just wants to know why it happened.
Chunji flops down onto the couch. Byunghun stays standing.
“Why did you do it?” He asks his brother.
“I didn’t want to,” he eases into the sofa, next to his sibling. “But they threatened Eli, Chunji. Said they’d kill him if I didn’t tell you guys, and I panicked.”
Chunji says, “Eli can hold his own in a fight,” at the same time Byunghun asks, “Who are ‘they’?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Kevin ignores his brother, instead answering the blond’s question. “They’re a bunch of sick bastards from Busan, that much I know. They’ve been giving all the gangs trouble, as far as I know. I can’t believe I’m saying this but... they’re worse than you guys. They make you gangs look civilized. You guys at least have reasons for doing the shit you do, money, territory problems or whatever... but these guys? They just like causing mayhem. It’s disgusting.”
“How many of them are there?”
Kevin shrugs. “‘Dunno. At least a dozen, probably more. That’s not too many though, when you take into account that every gang in this city has made it their mission to eradicate them. They’re all dumb, if you ask me. It’s like they’re asking to get killed. Sunggyu’s got some guys tailing them, and I heard that Inati’s boys are after ‘em, too.”
Nodding, Byunghun heads toward the door. He’s heard enough. “I’m gonna get back. I’ll let you guys catch up. Later.”
He’s sitting up on the roof, with Ricky between his legs, leaning his head against the older’s strong chest.
It’s a nice night.
Neil finally gave the younger boy the okay to get off bed rest.
Byunghun brought him up here right after, so he could spend some time with him, just the two of them. He’s been wanting to spend a nice, quiet moment with him ever since it happened. It was surprisingly hard to be left alone with him while he was still healing. People shuffled in and out of his room constantly to check on how he was doing. To say it was annoying would be an understatement.
But this... this is nice.
The problems with that havoc-wrecking gang from Busan are pushed into the far corner of his mind. He’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, he just wants to focus on Ricky. He just wants to forget himself in this, this feeling that he has right now, that he knows is coming from Ricky being right next to him.
He likes this; he likes it a lot. His arms are wrapped around Ricky, who’s nestled comfortably against his chest. The weather is a little chilly but not too cold. It’s the perfect weather for clearing your head.
The sky isn’t completely pitch black, either, he notes as he stares up at it. He’d rather look at the sky than the city’s skyline. This city is filled with everything he hates, everything he’s trapped into doing, but the sky is like freedom. The moon is shining, full and bright, and Byunghun counts just two lone stars. Two little stars that are dwarfed in size compared to the moon.
Those stars kind of remind him of Ricky and himself.
“You ever wonder what it would be like if we didn’t live this life?”
“A little bit,” Ricky admits. “But I don’t really know what a normal life is like. No matter how hard I try, I can’t picture it.”
His heart sinks a little bit at the thought. It’s sad. Someone like Ricky deserves a nice, normal life.
“What if we left all this behind?” He asks. “What if we left? What if we gave normal a try for once?”
Ricky’s hands cover Byunghun’s. “What if’’s are nice,” Ricky says, and immediately Byunghun disagrees. They’re not always so nice. The ones that surfaced in his mind on that night were anything but nice. They were vicious. “But they’re just what if’s. That’s all they’ll ever be. You know we can’t leave... and even if we could, I wouldn’t want to. I’d feel like we were abandoning the family.”
He does have a point. No matter how much Byunghun has grown to dislike this way of life, he wouldn’t be able to leave the gang behind. They’re his friends, his family. You don’t leave your family.
"It was just a thought,” he says. “It’s just... sometimes this doesn’t make any sense to me. Chunji’s got friends in Soohyun’s gang, yet we still go after them for money and whatnot. Why do we still do that? Kevin and Chunji have this potential to bridge the gangs together because of that, but it’s like no one cares about peace. And then there’s Sunggyu, who has saved our asses so many times before, but we still fight over borders and whose territory is whose. If Kevin can get out, why can’t we? It doesn’t make any sense, Ricky.”
“Sometimes it takes a lot for someone to change their way of life when they’ve only ever known one life,” Ricky muses.
He has another point. When did he get so damn mature? Probably has something to do with his near-death experience. Those are always eye-openers.
“And Kevin’s not completely out though. He might say he hates the gangs, but he’s still connected to them. If he hated the gangs as much as he claims, he would’ve cut ties with Chunji. If he hates us so much, why is he still with Eli?”
“It’s because he loves him,” Byunghun answers, like it’s the simplest question in the world. It might as well be. It’s the easiest to answer question that’s been asked all night.
“I never told you this before,” Ricky says, shifting in his arms so that he can look up at Byunghun. “But... I, I love you, too, Byunghun.”
He never expected to hear Ricky say those words back to him. He smiles, so wide that he probably looks like a madman, but he doesn’t care.
That’s something Ricky does to him a lot. He makes him not care about anything, anything that’s not Ricky.
He runs a hand through his hair and pulls the other boy closer, pressing their lips together. Ricky is still shy about all of this, so the kiss never becomes anything more that innocent. That doesn’t make it any less satisfying, though.
Ricky pulls away first. His hand lingers on Byunghyun’s chest, and he leans his head against it. He likes listening to his heart beat. He likes knowing that Byunghun is there, with him.
“Can I see your scars?” Ricky asks quietly.
Byunghun is taken aback by the question. A lot of gangsters show off their wounds like trophies. Not Byunghun. To him, they’re a lot more personal, a lot more intimate. Each one has a story. Even if he doesn’t particularly remember every story, they’re still there, carved into his skin.
They might be private, but if he has to show anyone, he’d want it be Ricky. “Yeah.” Hesitantly, he peels off his shirt. He chuckles nervously, feeling a bit awkward having Ricky study his exposed torso. That laugh is replaced with a sharp intake of breath as Ricky traces a long, jagged scar up his chest.
He wants to ask what it’s from, but he doesn’t want to risk bringing up any bad memories.
He keeps tracing scars, both small and large, from knives and guns. With how many scars he has, you’d think he was a lot older. Who would expect an eighteen year old to look this war ravaged?
That’s just the kind of world they live in, Ricky concludes. What a sick world.
He stops when he sees the gunshot scar on Byunghun’s left shoulder. “We both have a bullet wound in the same spot.” His thumb ghosts over the spot. “The left shoulder,” he mumbles. “Right near the heart.” Feeling bold, he leans in a presses a short kiss to the scar. Byunghun bites his lip.
“They’re sort of like... matching couple tattoos,” the black haired boy laughs, looking up at Byunghun.
And then Byunghun is laughing too. Only Ricky.
“You’re crazy, you know that right?”
He reaches a hand out and laces their fingers together. He pulls the boy into his lap, and Ricky leans forward, their foreheads touching. And then Ricky is mumbling against his lips, a silly, little smile on his face. “I know.”
Pairing: L.Joe/Ricky
Genre: AU, Angst, Crime
W/C: 6,545
Summary: This life of gangs and violence wasn’t meant for Ricky, and Byunghun will do anything he can to protect him.
A/N: This was originally going to be much shorter (like half of what it is now) but livejournal was still going through errors when I tried to post it. Because lj wouldn’t let me post, I ended up going back and editing and adding to it a lot more than I did before. All I can say is that I’m actually kind of glad lj had those errors, because without them, this story wouldn’t have become what it is now, haha. ^^
It’s a lot like looking into the midnight sky and seeing no moon, no stars. No matter where you look, the sky is just empty and black, and there’s something about an empty night sky that’s entirely unsettling. Something that makes you feel alone. And there’s something about feeling alone, under the pitch black night sky that makes the panic set in; panic that claws its way to your heart, pulls at your lungs.
That’s sort of what it’s like; what watching the one person you care about more than anything else in this corrupted world crumble to the ground before you, a bloody mess, is like.
But it’s different, too. There’s more feelings, more emotions involved.
There’s a hell of a lot more panic, too.
After the panic invades, the hysteria comes waltzing in, hand in hand with panic and settles down into your head and heart like an old friend. And then that hysteria takes over, and you’re screaming and crying and begging the stars to just please shine, for just a minute, so you’re not so damn alone under this damned sea of black velvet.
That’s sort of how Byunghun feels right now, kneeling on the ground in a disgusting, dark alley, next to Ricky. He presses one of his hands gingerly to the bullet wound on the younger’s abdomen. Within seconds his hand is coated with a sticky red substance, and oh god, Byunghun barely manages to stop himself from throwing up the measly dinner he had.
He had seen blood before -- god, he’s seen so much blood -- but it’s different now. Having the blood of a stranger on your hands is different, way different, from having your best friend’s blood on your hands.
Things weren’t supposed to turn out like this.
It was just a goddamn reconnaissance mission; it wasn’t meant to be dangerous. No one was supposed to get hurt.
The younger one coughs weakly, and Byunghun can barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots going off that’s replaying through his head like some sick mantra.
“Ricky.” He mumbles, reaching a hand out to support the boys neck. Something drips onto to his wrist. It’s then that Byunghun realizes this is worse, so much worse than he thought because he didn’t get shot once, he got shot twice. He’s got a bullet in his shoulder, too, and it’s bleeding just as much as the wound in his abdomen. He’s trying so fucking hard not to freak out, to keep himself together, for Ricky’s sake, but he can’t, because he knows if he doesn’t do something, the gunshot wounds will bleed Ricky dry... and he’ll be gone.
He doesn’t want Ricky to go, especially not like this.
The boy moves a little in his arms, tries to raise his head to look at Byunghun, but gives up; the blood loss is making him dizzy and weak. “It hurts,” Ricky barely manages to croak out.
“I know.” Reluctantly he puts the boy back on the bloodstained cement. He doesn’t want to, no, but he has to do something to help, and even though all he wants is to cradle the boy in his arms, he knows that won’t help. “I know it hurts, baby. I know it does. Just hold on, okay? Hold on for me, Ricky.”
He pulls his shirt up and over his head faster than he’s ever undressed before, and then he’s tearing it in two. He takes one piece and wraps it around Ricky’s waist, over the first bullet hole. The injured boy winces and cries out at the pressure and tightness when Byunghun ties it with a quick, messy knot. Immediately his hand is in Ricky’s hair, trying to soothe him, trying to do anything to get that look of complete and utter pain off his face. “Shh.” He coos, his thumb stroking the other’s forehead. “I’m gonna get you back to Minsoo. He’ll know what to do. You’ll be okay, Ricky. You’ll be okay.”
‘You’ll be okay’ falls from his lips over and over again, as if saying it enough times will make it true. He’s repeating it more to assure himself rather than the boy; the words don’t really seem to process in Ricky’s mind.
He reaches for the second half of his shirt, and he’s about to turn it into a make-shift bandage for his shoulder when Ricky’s strained, hoarse voice stops him. “Don’t.” He whispers, looking at the cloth in Byunghun’s bloodied hands.
“What?”
“That’s... your... favorite shirt. Wouldn’t want to... ruin it...” Talking right now is too much for him, and his eyes flutter closed. The blood loss finally gets to him, rendering him unconscious. His last bit of energy is wasted on those words. Meaningless words. He’s stupid, so stupid. He should have saved his breath, goddammit.
He laughs, not because he thinks this is funny-he’s a little fucked up, but finding humor in this situation is on a whole new level- but because he’s so damn frustrated. Leave it to Ricky to worry about something so stupid and mundane instead of himself.
Against his better judgment, he shakes the boy. “Wake up. Fuck, Ricky, wake up.”
He doesn’t stir.
A bunch of oh god, no’s and what if’s swirl around in his head. He finds himself praying to the God he thought he stopped believing in years ago to just please let Ricky be alright.
What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if it’s too late? Panic closes its iron fist around Byunghun’s heart for one long, dreadful moment. It crushes and squeezes his chest and he doesn’t think it will ever stop, until he sees Ricky’s chest rise and fall.
He’s still breathing.
The panic eases away. It isn’t completely gone; it still dwells on the outskirts of his heart, but he can breath just fraction of a bit easier knowing that Ricky is alive.
He finishes tying the fabric of what was his shirt around Ricky’s shoulder, and gently, oh so gently, he lifts the boy up. He’s scared any movement might hurt him more, and god he doesn’t want that. Ricky doesn’t deserve that pain, doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s sixteen for fuck’s sake.
This life isn’t meant for him. It never has been.
But is this life meant for any of them, really? Are the rest of them meant to live out their lives in fear and pointless violence? Byunghun doesn’t have an answer for that. This life is the only one he’s ever known, and the gang is the only family he’s ever had. Questioning it doesn’t seem right.
But does that make living it any more right?
He cradles Ricky’s head against his chest, because all he wants, no, needs right now is for Ricky to be close to him.
Looking at the mouth of the alley, Byunghun wonders just what it is he should do now. Run or walk? Running might irritate the younger’s wounds, injure him even more, but if he doesn’t get back to headquarters soon then Ricky might...
He presses a kiss to the unconscious boy’s forehead and whispers, “I love you.” He’s got this haunting voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him that Ricky might not make it out of this, and if that’s the case - God, Byunghun hopes not - he wants the first time he tells Ricky how he feels to be while the boy is still alive. He might not hear him but... anything is better than confessing to his corpse.
As he smooths the hair on his forehead, he comforts himself with the ridiculous thought that Ricky is alright, that he’s just sleeping.
Then he takes off running.
Byunghun paces around the hallway outside of Ricky’s room. Minsoo had told him that he needed to ‘get the fuck out while Niel’s working.’ According to him, his pacing would ‘break his concentration.’ As much as he had wanted to protest, he couldn’t. He might be Minsoo’s right hand man, but Minsoo was still the boss; Byunghun couldn’t disobey.
He glances back at the door to the makeshift operating room and groans. He needs to know if Ricky’s alright. He needs to know if he’s alive. He needs to be in there. With an aggravated yell, his fist connects to the closet tangible thing to him - the wall. The force he put into the punch is enough to send one of the many, tacky paintings that cover the walls crashing to the floor.
There’s a mess of glass and canvas and who-the-fuck-cares at the bottom of his feet, but he pays no attention. He should be picking it up, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stupidly kicks at the pile, as if it’s the source of all of his anger and problems. He stumbles backwards when a large shard of glass stabs his foot, through his boot. “Fuck.”
It stings, but he knows it’s nothing compared to the pain that Ricky is going through right now. That thought angers him even more, and he kicks the pile again, not even caring to take the piece of glass that was stuck in his foot out. He kicks it again and again, as if the glass is the scum that did this to Ricky. When he’s done, there’s chunks of glass, small and large, stuck in his shoe and embedded in his foot, and damn, it hurts.
It hurts a lot, but he feels like he shouldn’t complain about the pain, not even in his thoughts. He feels guilty for it. Ricky is going through worse.
He doesn’t move to take the glass out of his foot. If Ricky’s suffering, then he should be too.
He looks up from the floor to see Changjo leaning against the wall opposite him. “Christ.” He says, startled. “When did you get there?”
The younger boy shrugs and pushes himself off the wall. “I’ve been here long enough to know that you’ve got some weird, masochistic tendencies.” He kneels down in front of the blond and holds out his hand expectantly. “Let me see your foot.”
“What?” Byunghun asks.
Rolling his eyes, the younger says, “Give me your foot so I can get the glass out, dumb ass.”
Byunghun doesn’t have the chance to comply, because before he can put his foot in the other’s hand, Changjo grabs it, throwing off his balance. A hand reaches back behind him to brace himself against the wall, so he doesn’t fall over completely. “Some warning would be nice.”
He ignores him, and instead tugs off his boot. He sucks in some breath at the site of his friend’s shredded foot. “Doing this to yourself isn’t going to help him, Byunghun.”
He closes his eyes as Changjo pulls the glass out. “I know.” He mumbles, feeling a little ashamed.
“He’s too stubborn to die, you know. That kid loves life too much to let go. He’ll be alright.”
Sometime during the process of Changjo righting his foot again, Minsoo comes out of Ricky’s room. He sends the two a questioning glance, but when he sees the fist-sized dent in the wall and the glass on the floor it all makes sense.
Byunghun always did have a temper.
“Will he be alright?” Byunghun asks as soon as the eldest approaches. When Minsoo nods, the tension in Byunghun’s body visibly lightens.
He’ll be alright. Thank god. Byunghun’s never been this happy in his life. He wants to cry from how relieved he is, but he can’t. Not with the other two here.
“Niel fixed him up real nice, but that bullet hole in his shoulder is infected.” At the concerned look on Byunghun’s face he quickly adds, “It’s no big deal, really. The infection will go away with some meds. Niel has him practically eating pills by the pound. It’s a damn good thing the one in his stomach isn’t infected. He needs to stay in bed for awhile, though. Walking with that hole in his abs isn’t going to be too fun.”
Changjo stands up then, having gotten what he could of the glass out of Byunghun’s foot, and wipes his hands on his jeans.
“Hey, Changjo, d’you think you could leave us alone for a bit? I need to talk to him.”
He nods, his hand flying to his head in a mock salute. “No problem, CAP,” He says, starting to walk down the hallway.
Minsoo smiles slightly at the old nickname - CAP, short for captain. When Changjo is gone, he turns back to Byunghun.
Byunghun’s pretty sure he knows what the older is going to say; he’s known him longer than anyone else, and he’s damn easy to read. He knows what he’s going to ask, but he’s just not ready for the interrogation yet.
“What the hell is up with you, man?” This is possibly one of the only questions that Minsoo really wants to know the answer to. He’s never seen Byunghun like this. Never. Byunghun, the best damn soldier in his ranks, his second in command, who’s always stoic as fuck and only cares about work, work, work never gets this worked up about anything. Never.
He should have known it was just a front. Even cold hearted gangsters such as themselves have feelings.
“I’m just worried about him.” Byunghun answers honestly. Even now, despite Minsoo’s reassurance that Ricky will be okay, somewhere in the back of his mind he’s worried that something else could go wrong. Fucking paranoia.
“Yeah, so am I, but I didn’t put my hand through a wall and fuck up my foot because of it. There’s something else, Byunghun. Don’t try lying and telling me there isn’t, either. I know you. I know when you’re lying.”
The younger blond glances away, staring at the floor behind Minsoo.
“You never look at me when you lie.”
That’s true. He can lie perfectly to a stranger’s face, but when it comes to family, he can’t bring himself to look at them when he lies. He’s too ashamed.
Byunghun takes a deep breath. He could make something up, but it’s right; Minsoo would be able to spot his lie from a mile away. He has no other option but to tell him the truth. “I love him, Minsoo. So fucking much.” He leans his head back against the wall. “And I keep thinking that he’s in there because of me. He doesn’t deserve this, y’know?”
Ricky is too young, too innocent to have to experience any of this. These streets aren’t meant for a kid like him. They chew you up, and when they spit you back out, you’re hardened, changed for the worse, and left with too many graphic images that you can’t forget, no matter how hard you try.
God only knows how much twisted shit Byunghun’s seen on these streets. He’s seen so many fights, so many junkies - most barely even older than himself - doing whatever the hell it is that they can do to get money for their next fix, and so many girls out on the streets selling their bodies for some quick cash.
He’s seen people die.
He’s seen people die by his hand.
And god damn does he wish that Ricky doesn’t have to be exposed to any of it. The world of gangs and street rivalries isn’t the world Ricky belongs in. Even if him not having any part in this sort of life meant that Byunghun would have never met him, he would rather that happen than have Ricky live like this.
Because Ricky deserves better, even if ‘better’ is away from here, away from Byunghun.
Sighing, Minsoo runs a hand through his hair. “Alright.” It’s not a particularly appropriate response, but Minsoo hasn’t ever been very good at comforting people. Byunghun will be able to get what he means, anyways.
“You’re not... mad?”
“I’m a little weirded out,” he replies honestly, cracking a small smile. “But I’m not mad. You’re like my brother, Byunghun. I still love you, man, even if you swing my way.”
Byunghun chuckles a little. That was good to know, really good. He had had this scenario pictured out in his mind, and the worst case scenario ended in Minsoo kicking him out to the streets, alone. The last thing you want is to be alone on the streets without a gang. No one can last without someone to have their back.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Can... can I go see him now?”
Minsoo shakes his head, and Byunghun’s heart drops a little. “Tell me what the fuck happened out there first. You can go see him after, I promise.”
Sighing, Byunghun begins to retell what happened. “We got to that warehouse,” he starts. “But it wasn’t Soohyun’s gang’s hideout. It was a setup.” He closes his eyes, trying to block the unpleasant images from surfacing again. “We walked in and they were just... waiting for us. I screamed at Ricky to get the fuck out of there, ‘cause I knew he wasn’t ready to fight or see any of that. Hell, he doesn’t even know how to fire a gun and...”
He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat.“There were ten or so guys, and I was just so focused on taking each motherfucker down that I didn’t realize Ricky got shot. If I had been more aware...” He opens his eyes again, but avoids looking at Minsoo. “It should have been me. I was the one fighting, not him. Why wasn’t it me who got shot? I don’t get why it had to be him...” His voice trails off a little, and his gaze on the floor hardens.
“And no,” he continues, weakly trying to compose himself and get back on topic, “I don’t know who it was. It wasn’t Soohyun’s gang, though. I don’t think it was any of the other Seoul gangs, to be honest. They didn’t look familiar. I don’t know where the fuck Chunji got his intel, but-”
“You trying to say Chunji betrayed us?” CAP interrupts.
Quickly, Byunghun shakes his head. “No, no, no. You’re taking this shit the wrong way, Minsoo. He’s family, and you know I trust him with my life. He wouldn’t do that to us.” Narrowing his eyes at the elder, he says, “And I’m offended that you think I would think so lowly of him. I’m just saying that they misled him, too. Whoever ‘they’ are.”
Minsoo pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “Well shit.” His forehead wrinkles with stress. “You can go see him now, if you want.”
He takes one more look at his frustrated leader before heading into Ricky’s room.
After kicking Niel out - much to the “doctor’s” distaste - he sits down on the edge of Ricky’s bed. He’s sleeping, but he looks anything but peaceful. His skin is pale, hair matted, and there are a few bruises - probably from hitting the cement when he was shot - that Byunghun must have not noticed in his panic.
He looks so frail, so damn frail.
The guilt that’s been nagging at him since Ricky got shot is back again, and he feels terrible. The guilt is drumming away in his brain, and that’s all he can focus on. It won’t go away, and that’s driving him crazy.
Next to him, Ricky stirs, and Byunghun just watches as his eyes slowly open.
“Byunghun?” The smaller boy asks, innocent black eyes looking at him curiously.
“Hey.” Byunghun mumbles, because he’s afraid if he speaks any louder it might disturb the boy. Tentatively, he reaches out and grabs his hand. His heart flutters a bit at the wide grin that spreads across Ricky’s face when he laces their fingers together.
He wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know what. A billion and one thoughts are running around in his head, but none of them seem right. But there is one, one tiny little thought, and it doesn’t really have to do with talking, per se. He really, really doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but it’s the only thought that stands out.
Without caring about what the other’s reaction might be, he leans over and presses his lips to Ricky’s.
This could probably end badly, really badly.
Byunghun doesn’t care.
Before all of this happened, he would have never been this bold. He would have rather kept his feelings hidden so he could wallow in them by himself, than act on them as he is at the moment. But now, after having to deal with those torturous ‘what if’s’ that came along with Ricky getting injured, he’s forgotten all about his discretion and caution. He doesn’t care about the possibility of rejection. He can deal with that. That won’t hurt too bad. That’s nothing compared to the horrific thoughts of Ricky’s death that his mind conjured up.
Ricky tenses a little, but doesn’t protest. Encouraged by the lack of objection, he snakes a hand around his head, his fingers ghosting over the back of his neck.
Hesitantly, Ricky starts to kiss back. Byunghun smiles into the kiss at his shy response. He can tell the other is a little confused, and that he doesn’t really have any idea what he’s doing due to inexperience... but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Ricky is here, safe in his arms.
Reluctantly, he pulls his lips away, but stays close. His hand cups the younger’s cheeks. “I was so scared,” he whispers. “I thought I might lose you. I was so scared,” he repeats. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Ricky. I’m so fucking glad.”
He takes his hand away from Ricky’s face, and instead places it in Ricky’s own. “I have no idea what I would have done if... if you-” His voice cracks, and he’s having a hard time keeping himself from crying.
“You shouldn’t have worried so much,” Ricky says, smiling a little. He doesn’t like the look of anguish on the older boy’s face. “It’s not too big of a deal... I’ve finally got my very own battle scars! Well, they’re not scars yet but...”
Byunghun laughs, really laughs, because Ricky is so dumb, making a joke about getting shot like it’s nothing, like it happens all the time. Only him.
He slides into the bed next to Ricky, and the younger’s smile grows. He snuggles into Byunghun’s side - at least as much as his wounds will allow - and rests his head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of the blond’s heartbeat. It’s soothing.
After a peaceful moment or three, Ricky breaks their tranquil silence. “I had a weird dream after I got shot.”
“What was it about?” Byunghun asks, absentmindedly drawing circles on the back of Ricky’s hand.
“It was dark.” Ricky recalls. “It was weird; I don’t think I could see anything... but I remember hearing you.” His voice gets quieter as he continues. “You said you loved me.”
Byunghun’s breath catches in his throat because how is it possible that Ricky had heard him?
“That... wasn’t a dream.” He says. Again, it’s another one of those things that he would have never done before. Before, he would have denied that it actually happened. He wouldn’t have the courage to say what he was about to.
“So you really said that, then?” Ricky asks, a small amount of disbelief in his voice that upsets Byunghun just a little bit.
A low ‘mhm’ comes from Byunghun’s throat as confirmation.
“And you really meant it?” Ricky asks, looking up at the blond with those big eyes he loves so much.
He looks back at the younger boy in his arms and nods. “I meant it, Ricky. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He squeezes the black haired boy’s hand. “I love you. I really, really do.”
Ricky smiles wide, his eyes crinkling at the edges and all of his teeth exposed. It’s such a look of childish glee and happiness, one that Byunghun doesn’t remember ever seeing Ricky sport, and it only makes him vow to make sure nothing ever happens to the beautiful, innocent boy before him. To make sure he’s always that happy. To make sure that he smiles as much as possible, despite what’s going on in the world around them.
This life really wasn’t meant for Ricky, but Byunghun can’t change that.
There’s no escaping this life for either of them.
The only thing he can do is make it a little easier for him, a little more bearable.
The only thing he can do is protect him with his life.
The only thing he can do is promise to love him.
For the next few days, Byunghun doesn’t leave Ricky’s side. He stays in his room, playing nurse. When Ricky needs something, he gets it. When Ricky wants to complain about the pain, he lets him. When Ricky yells at him because the pain makes him irritable, he sits there and takes it. He’ll let Ricky do anything he wants. Ricky deserves the world, he thinks, and he can’t give that to him. So he tries his damned hardest to give him just a fraction of that world, of what he should have.
It’s only the fourth day after the incident that Minsoo pulls him out of the room.
They have to talk business, he says.
They’re all seated around the rectangular table of their meeting room. Everyone knows what this is about. The ambush.
“Chunji,” Minsoo starts, looking at the boy seated across from him. “Who’d you get that intel from?”
“Kevin.”
Byunghun thought that when they found out who Chunji got his intelligence from, everything would fall into place. He thought it would explain the setup, and that everything would make sesnse.
But this? This doesn’t make sense. Kevin is Chunji’s brother, Chunji’s neutral, not-affiliated with any gangs brother. He’s never liked the gangs, so he lives far, far away from them, in a nice little flat in a piece of neutral territory that’s sandwiched between Minsoo’s gang’s land and Sunggyu’s. He hates the gangs, hates everything they stand for - do they stand for anything at all? - but he loves his little brother. He hears a lot, living in a place between two gangs’ land. Anything useful he hears gets relayed back to Chunji, because if his brother is going to live this life, he better damn well be informed.
He wouldn’t set them up. He wouldn’t.
So that’s what Byunghun says.
“He’s close with Soohyun and the guys in his gang,” Minsoo replies, tapping on the table. “So he would know whether or not it was really their hideout. It’s not like he can be misinformed about that, not when he’s sleeping with their second in command.”
Chunji tenses. He doesn’t much like people talking about his brother, especially not about that. It’s always been a soft spot. He refuses to go on any assignments or to any fights that he knows will involve Soohyun’s gang. He has too close of a tie with them.
They’re like an extended family, of sorts.
Before anyone can blow up - because Chunji, pretty little Chunji, gets pissed off and explodes so easily when his brother is mentioned - Changjo interrupts. “Someone put him up to this, then.”
They stare at him.
It’s amazing, really, how intuitive he is. Byunghun always forgets that he’s not his age. He acts so much more mature than any boy who’s barely sixteen should act. He’s rational and smart, and overall, a great asset for the family.
Chunji seems the most affected by this realization. “Then what if he’s in trouble right now?” He thinks aloud. “I need to go make sure he’s alright.” He pushes his chair backwards and a sickening screech comes from the wood grating against the floor. He’s out the door faster than anyone has the chance to say ‘wait!’
“Byunghun,” Minsoo stands up. “Go with him. He could be walking into another ambush, and like hell I’ll let him go alone.”
The blond nods at their boss. “Can I go see Ricky, first? I just want to tell him-”
‘I want to tell him what’s going on,’ is what he wants to say, but he doesn’t get the chance to. He stops talking when Minsoo shakes his head.
“You don’t have time. Chunji doesn’t think before he does anything. He’s probably getting ready to get on the bus to Kevin’s right now. Go after him. Ricky can wait; you’ll see him when you get back. Don’t worry,” Byunghun isn’t sure if that look on Minsoo’s face is a sneer, grimace, smile or what, “I’ll tell him you love him or whatever it is you lovebirds say to each other.”
With a bitter laugh, he mumbles to himself - but Byunghun can still hear him. “Being in love. Must be real nice, huh? Too bad I’ve never felt it.”
He’s not sure what to say to that.
Byunghun decides it’s better not to say anything at all.
Something weird happens when they get to Kevin’s apartment.
Byunghun feels nervous. He’s never nervous when he’s in the field. Never.
As they walk up the stairs to Kevin’s floor, he can’t help but feel like this is the ambush all over again. They’re walking into a trap, he can feel it. When they open the door to the apartment, there’s going to be men in there, with guns trained on them. Something is going to happen to Chunji, just like it happened with Ricky, and he can’t bear to deal with that again.
They approach the door now, and anxiously, Byunghun puts his hand on the gun that holstered at his waist, just in case.
When Chunji opens the door, Byunghun braces himself for the worst.
But there’s no one there, no one but Kevin, lounging on his living room sofa.
He’s startled by their intrusion, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they’re there. “So you guys are okay? Thank god,” he says, hurrying to where they’re standing. “No one got hurt, right...?”
He likes Kevin. He’s a good man - his reluctance to get involved with the gangs is a testament to that - but right now, his concern is anything but welcomed. It almost feels like a slap to the face. Byunghun narrows his eyes. “Ricky got shot. Twice.” He leaves off ‘thanks to you.’
“I’m sorry.” Kevin looks Byunghun straight in the eye when he says that. It’s respectable, how he meets his eyes with no fear. It makes his apology seem more sincere. It also makes Byunghun feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t want an apology. Apologies aren’t going to change what happened. He just wants to know why it happened.
Chunji flops down onto the couch. Byunghun stays standing.
“Why did you do it?” He asks his brother.
“I didn’t want to,” he eases into the sofa, next to his sibling. “But they threatened Eli, Chunji. Said they’d kill him if I didn’t tell you guys, and I panicked.”
Chunji says, “Eli can hold his own in a fight,” at the same time Byunghun asks, “Who are ‘they’?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.” Kevin ignores his brother, instead answering the blond’s question. “They’re a bunch of sick bastards from Busan, that much I know. They’ve been giving all the gangs trouble, as far as I know. I can’t believe I’m saying this but... they’re worse than you guys. They make you gangs look civilized. You guys at least have reasons for doing the shit you do, money, territory problems or whatever... but these guys? They just like causing mayhem. It’s disgusting.”
“How many of them are there?”
Kevin shrugs. “‘Dunno. At least a dozen, probably more. That’s not too many though, when you take into account that every gang in this city has made it their mission to eradicate them. They’re all dumb, if you ask me. It’s like they’re asking to get killed. Sunggyu’s got some guys tailing them, and I heard that Inati’s boys are after ‘em, too.”
Nodding, Byunghun heads toward the door. He’s heard enough. “I’m gonna get back. I’ll let you guys catch up. Later.”
He’s sitting up on the roof, with Ricky between his legs, leaning his head against the older’s strong chest.
It’s a nice night.
Neil finally gave the younger boy the okay to get off bed rest.
Byunghun brought him up here right after, so he could spend some time with him, just the two of them. He’s been wanting to spend a nice, quiet moment with him ever since it happened. It was surprisingly hard to be left alone with him while he was still healing. People shuffled in and out of his room constantly to check on how he was doing. To say it was annoying would be an understatement.
But this... this is nice.
The problems with that havoc-wrecking gang from Busan are pushed into the far corner of his mind. He’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, he just wants to focus on Ricky. He just wants to forget himself in this, this feeling that he has right now, that he knows is coming from Ricky being right next to him.
He likes this; he likes it a lot. His arms are wrapped around Ricky, who’s nestled comfortably against his chest. The weather is a little chilly but not too cold. It’s the perfect weather for clearing your head.
The sky isn’t completely pitch black, either, he notes as he stares up at it. He’d rather look at the sky than the city’s skyline. This city is filled with everything he hates, everything he’s trapped into doing, but the sky is like freedom. The moon is shining, full and bright, and Byunghun counts just two lone stars. Two little stars that are dwarfed in size compared to the moon.
Those stars kind of remind him of Ricky and himself.
“You ever wonder what it would be like if we didn’t live this life?”
“A little bit,” Ricky admits. “But I don’t really know what a normal life is like. No matter how hard I try, I can’t picture it.”
His heart sinks a little bit at the thought. It’s sad. Someone like Ricky deserves a nice, normal life.
“What if we left all this behind?” He asks. “What if we left? What if we gave normal a try for once?”
Ricky’s hands cover Byunghun’s. “What if’’s are nice,” Ricky says, and immediately Byunghun disagrees. They’re not always so nice. The ones that surfaced in his mind on that night were anything but nice. They were vicious. “But they’re just what if’s. That’s all they’ll ever be. You know we can’t leave... and even if we could, I wouldn’t want to. I’d feel like we were abandoning the family.”
He does have a point. No matter how much Byunghun has grown to dislike this way of life, he wouldn’t be able to leave the gang behind. They’re his friends, his family. You don’t leave your family.
"It was just a thought,” he says. “It’s just... sometimes this doesn’t make any sense to me. Chunji’s got friends in Soohyun’s gang, yet we still go after them for money and whatnot. Why do we still do that? Kevin and Chunji have this potential to bridge the gangs together because of that, but it’s like no one cares about peace. And then there’s Sunggyu, who has saved our asses so many times before, but we still fight over borders and whose territory is whose. If Kevin can get out, why can’t we? It doesn’t make any sense, Ricky.”
“Sometimes it takes a lot for someone to change their way of life when they’ve only ever known one life,” Ricky muses.
He has another point. When did he get so damn mature? Probably has something to do with his near-death experience. Those are always eye-openers.
“And Kevin’s not completely out though. He might say he hates the gangs, but he’s still connected to them. If he hated the gangs as much as he claims, he would’ve cut ties with Chunji. If he hates us so much, why is he still with Eli?”
“It’s because he loves him,” Byunghun answers, like it’s the simplest question in the world. It might as well be. It’s the easiest to answer question that’s been asked all night.
“I never told you this before,” Ricky says, shifting in his arms so that he can look up at Byunghun. “But... I, I love you, too, Byunghun.”
He never expected to hear Ricky say those words back to him. He smiles, so wide that he probably looks like a madman, but he doesn’t care.
That’s something Ricky does to him a lot. He makes him not care about anything, anything that’s not Ricky.
He runs a hand through his hair and pulls the other boy closer, pressing their lips together. Ricky is still shy about all of this, so the kiss never becomes anything more that innocent. That doesn’t make it any less satisfying, though.
Ricky pulls away first. His hand lingers on Byunghyun’s chest, and he leans his head against it. He likes listening to his heart beat. He likes knowing that Byunghun is there, with him.
“Can I see your scars?” Ricky asks quietly.
Byunghun is taken aback by the question. A lot of gangsters show off their wounds like trophies. Not Byunghun. To him, they’re a lot more personal, a lot more intimate. Each one has a story. Even if he doesn’t particularly remember every story, they’re still there, carved into his skin.
They might be private, but if he has to show anyone, he’d want it be Ricky. “Yeah.” Hesitantly, he peels off his shirt. He chuckles nervously, feeling a bit awkward having Ricky study his exposed torso. That laugh is replaced with a sharp intake of breath as Ricky traces a long, jagged scar up his chest.
He wants to ask what it’s from, but he doesn’t want to risk bringing up any bad memories.
He keeps tracing scars, both small and large, from knives and guns. With how many scars he has, you’d think he was a lot older. Who would expect an eighteen year old to look this war ravaged?
That’s just the kind of world they live in, Ricky concludes. What a sick world.
He stops when he sees the gunshot scar on Byunghun’s left shoulder. “We both have a bullet wound in the same spot.” His thumb ghosts over the spot. “The left shoulder,” he mumbles. “Right near the heart.” Feeling bold, he leans in a presses a short kiss to the scar. Byunghun bites his lip.
“They’re sort of like... matching couple tattoos,” the black haired boy laughs, looking up at Byunghun.
And then Byunghun is laughing too. Only Ricky.
“You’re crazy, you know that right?”
He reaches a hand out and laces their fingers together. He pulls the boy into his lap, and Ricky leans forward, their foreheads touching. And then Ricky is mumbling against his lips, a silly, little smile on his face. “I know.”