#c. woobin

[mijongsuk]

❝ well looks like we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a dilemma. ❞

Jongsuk snorts softly, lips curling into a slow, sharp smile. 

"So it would seem," he agrees easily, gaze taking its time as it sweeps the scene before him. 

Standing opposite them, a group of men have filled the alleyway and blocked off their path of escape, each of them armed to the teeth with weapons. Behind them, the sound of their pursuers draws nearer. 

They're effectively trapped.

A low chuckle builds in Jongsuk's chest. 

He ignores the look that Woobin shoots him for the sound. He doesn't need to spare a glance to know that his lieutenant is giving him one of those exasperated stares of his. Woobin is many things, but a good sport is rarely one of them. 

"Please, it's a little funny," Jongsuk argues, lowering his own weapon only to use it as he gestures at the men blocking their way. He pretends not to notice the way the thugs all flinch and tighten their hold on their weapons in time with the motion. "They think we're really going to make it this easy for them."

He feels a flare of satisfaction when Woobin's lips twitch in a reluctant smirk. 

A flash of light reflected in the window behind Woobin's shoulder catches his eye, and a split second later the first of the Lynx thugs falls to the ground with a bullet snug between his eyes. Within moments, chaos erupts as the sound of gunfire fills the alley.

[mijongsuk]

hold you liquor

hold your liquor: my muse gets your muse drunk (for whatever intentions they desire).

The restaurant is empty at the late hour, save for the pair of men sitting in the back corner, a grill full of meat sizzling away on the table between them. The narrow table is already littered with empty bottles of soju and a stack of plates wiped clean, and judging by the boisterous laughter coming from the pair, they’re already well on their way to drunk. 

That doesn’t stop Jongsuk from filling Woobin’s glass with another shot of soju. 

The sight alone would surprise most who knew them for who they were. Jongsuk is no one’s idea of a proper dongsaeng and Woobin has no use for propriety. There’s never any need for pretense between them though, especially not in an empty barbeque joint like this. 

Jongsuk snickers when the soju he’s pouring overfills the glass and spills all over the Woobin’s hand. He sets the emptied bottle on the table alongside the rest of their collection as Woobin shakes off his hand with a slurred curse. Jongsuk doesn’t even protest when a drop of it hits his cheek, too amused by his ruffled companion to care.

“You did that on purpose, you ass.” 

Jongsuk’s lips pull into a sly grin. Rather than answer, he reaches for his own shot glass and throws back his soju in a single shot. He catches sight of a bit of blood drying on his sleeve when he does. Jongsuk’s too drunk to care, though. The restaurant owner knows them well enough by now and so he never hovers. Here, in this shoddy little barbeque joint, there’s little chance of them encountering any trouble. 

So he lets himself enjoy the breather, and for just a moment, pretend like he and Woobin are nothing more than a couple of businessmen unwinding after a long day at the office.

[mijongsuk]

.sticky fingers

flashback with @mixwoobin

“--Ya! Stop right there, you punk!”

Jongsuk swore under his breath, jaw tightening and shoulders squaring in annoyance. 

There was no way that he could make it out of the convenience store without a scene now-- not after the clerk had to go and shout at him from across the damn room. Every head in the store had swivelled in his direction, following the finger the old man was jabbing at Jongsuk as he yelled for him to stop. Sure, Jongsuk could outrun the geezer with ease, but the commotion was sure to attract the patrolman he’d spotted taking a smoke break out front, and that was where things could get messy. 

So since running was out of the question, that meant he’d have to bluff his way out of this one. 

Slowly turning on his heel, Jongsuk fixed the shop owner with an unamused stare, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. 

“You, boy. You empty your pockets right now! I saw you stuffing them!” The owner snarled as he marched right over to Jongsuk, finger still raised until he was close enough to jab it right into Jongsuk’s chest. “Show me your pockets, you punk.” 

Jongsuk’s lip curled in affront. “Ya, old man. Watch what you’re saying.” His tone was low, lazy and disinterested. “I didn’t take shit.”

[mijongsuk]

with @mixwoobin

“ We are here to laugh at the odds And live our lives so well That death will tremble to take us. ”

[mijongsuk]

what do you think? am i more of a winter or autumn?

↪ Honesty Hour | Closed

“I think that you’re a pain in the ass.” Jongsuk replies without missing a beat, gaze never lifting from the stack of papers in front of him.

He doesn’t need to look to know that Woobin has made himself comfortable in the chair across from his desk, stupid long limbs akimbo as he slouches in the seat like the slob that he is. He also doesn’t need to look to know that the other man has helped himself to one of the magazines meticulously arranged on the table outside his office-- and judging by the inane questions he’s been pestering Jongsuk with, Woobin made sure to pick the trashiest pop culture one of the lot.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he adds wryly, finally lifting his gaze to fix Woobin with an unimpressed stare. “Security cams to monitor, card counters to terrorize, barely legal escorts to romance?”

Jongsuk raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Unless you’re hiding up here for a reason--surely you haven’t already managed to get back on Piccolo’s bad side?” His gaze turns thoughtful, scrutinizing the other man. “Though if he is in another one of his moods, send him my way. I’ve got a job that could come in handy for later.”

[mijongsuk]

what's your favorite book?

↪ Honesty Hour | Closed

      tw: mention of child abuse

Jongsuk has always had a special attachment to books. When he was little, he’d read aloud to his younger siblings before bed, taking over the duty of bedtime stories while his mother was busy with her latest boyfriend in the other room. It fell to him to keep the younger children busy, too distracted to pay attention to the moans filtering through the too-thin walls of their shabby little apartment.

Then he was placed in the foster home. There, he spent more time locked in the Jungs’ basement than he did in his staged bedroom upstairs. The only solace he found in that rancid dungeon was an old box of books shoved back in a dusty corner. It was filled with cheap copies of classics undoubtedly purchased for the Jungs’ biological sons’ school work, once read and long forgotten. Those books were the only company that Jongsuk had down in that basement, and so he read and reread them until their covers were falling off and pages were curled from use.

Now, he sits in the study of his penthouse apartment, surrounded by shelves displaying priceless collector’s editions of each of the books that he had once hidden away beneath a broken mattress. His eyes lift to skim those shelves, lips curling into a soft, absent smile.

His gaze settles on a French press first edition before he finally answers, “The Count of Monte Cristo.”

[mijongsuk]

what's something you could never forgive?

↪ Honesty Hour | Closed

     tw: child abuse, pedophilia, murder

If there is one thing that Jongsuk is particular about, it’s family.

His own was a fucking trainwreck. His mother was a deadbeat and a pedophile. His foster family were abusive con artists. His siblings were victims of circumstance, caught in the crossfire of a war they were too young to understand. All of that blood stains Jongsuk’s hands– but he doesn’t regret any of it, doesn’t suffer some burdensome weight of remorse. The children had been innocent, but this world was cruel, would have robbed it from them just as it had stolen his own and left a monster in its place. Their deaths had been the only act of mercy Jongsuk could reconcile back then.

None of those people were family though. Not really.

Family was a choice. It was loyalty, a bond that went deeper than blood or a custody agreement. It was something that he had found after he walked away from his mother’s house for the last time that night, something that he had found with Hydrus.

It took Jongsuk almost twenty years to find something he could call family, and he would be damned if he let any harm come to them.

That’s something that he could never forgive.

[mijongsuk]

he ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

@mixwoobin