#Romeo x Romeo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

somethingkindazainy · 4 months ago

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♡ Pairing: Minho x Jisung ♤ Genre: Mafia AU, Romeo x Romeo ♢ Chapter Warnings: Graphic descriptions of Violence, foul language throughout, alcohol use, non-con(mxf) ♧ MINORS DNI

♤ ♡ TASTE Synopsis & Chapter List ♢ ♧

<< Chapter 1 - Parley ♤ ♡ ♢ ♧ Chapter 3 - Broken Compass >>

Chapter 2: The DLC

♢ ♧January - 2024♤ ♡

Minho leans against the bar, sips his water, and studies his surroundings.

The club he’s in, The DLC, has recently come up for auction, and Minho is here to assess it for potential investment. Unlike other buyers, he didn’t come here when the place was empty. It’s a nightclub, in his opinion, nightclubs are best viewed at night when it’s filled with customers.

Assessing property is usually Seungmin's niche. Seungmin can look at things, know in his mind what it will cost to put things right, and whether it could become a viable, profitable enterprise. Seungmin would’ve visited when it was empty, a tape measure and calculator in hand and asked smart questions about turnover, footfall and margins. But Seungmin is very much a thinker, a planner, a to-do list maker. Minho is a move first, ask for forgiveness later kind of guy and doesn’t have anything except an instinctual gut feeling.

Instinctively, he feels it has potential. So far, Minho likes the location. It’s in a good area of Seoul, just south of the river and the place is heaving. The security is a little lacking, he is currently sitting at the bar with a knuckle duster in one pocket and his knife in a shoulder holster. Security would definitely need improving, but Hyunjin could easily see to that. The DJ is good, adapting his noisy music to suit the crowd. Minho would keep him on if their bid is successful, perhaps see if he’d split his time between venues. There are male and female dancers on podiums high above the dance floor, wearing little more than glitter and body paint, their gyrations keeping the crowds entertained and invigorated. He wants to keep them too. His Father will hate it. Which is another reason Minho wants it.

“Sammy! Scotch on the rocks,” a panting voice to his right says to the barman.

Minho glances at him, only a second, but within that he captures the honey colour of the young mans skin, adorned with silver jewellery, the beads of sweat on his forehead. Black hair pasted to the nape of his neck and a black silk shirt. He sees all that in one brief glance.

“Oh, hello new face,” the young man says now. A hand with several silver rings, fingers Minho’s tie. “Not the usual dress code for a night on the town.”

Minho slews his gaze over to him. The young man is facing him now, his face is sort of round, his eyes large and dark, in part because he’s wearing heavy eyeliner. Minho quite likes his smile. It’s wide and bright.

“I’m working,” Minho says coolly.

“Oh,” the young man lets go of his tie. “So this is very much a business not pleasure visitation? Or are you mixing the two?”

Minho sips his water, averts his gaze, “Very much business.”

The young man hums, “Well that’s a little disappointing.” He leans back against the bar, his elbow only a hair width from Minho’s own. “Now, what line of business could you possibly be in, wearing a suit to a nightclub? Don’t tell me—” he theatrically purses his lips. “Maybe you’re a talent scout for one of those big companies, out here looking for the next big thing in k-pop?” he steps in front of Minho’s eye line, and now Minho can see him in his entirety. He’s wearing a black silk shirt, tucked into black torn jeans which are in turn tucked into black almost knee high combat boots. His legs are slightly bowed and his waist is grabbable. “I could be him!”

Minho snorts.

“Judgemental,” the young man says, but he’s still smiling that smile. “I’d be an ace, just so you know.”

“Your drink, sir,” says the barman from behind Minho.

“Thanks Sammy,” the young man steps forward, steps between Minho’s legs, his hand flat against Minho’s chest and Minho is fighting to keep his breath even, but knows that his heart rate is betraying him. The young man smells of whisky and sweat and something else, not aftershave, but something that is very warm and pleasant, almost earthy.

“I’m not buying what you’re trying to sell,” Minho says into his ear and he sees the young man’s lip quirk. Probably because he knows Minho is lying. Perhaps he can sense that Minho wants him to.

“Oh, sweetheart, you couldn’t afford me if I were selling,” he pushes himself away, Minho’s tie slipping through his fingers as he drinks from his whisky glass, his throat bobbing. “And I don’t give it away either,” and he winks as he turns away, disappearing down the stairs back to the dance floor.

Minho swallows, takes a breath. Clears his throat. He feels like he’s done five rounds in the ring with Nikko. Part of him is annoyed that the young man had the audacity to touch him. The other, slightly larger part, is annoyed that he had enjoyed it. He raises his bottle to his lips, but the bottle is empty.

“Another, sir?” The barman is good. Minho decides he’ll keep him on too.

“No thanks,” Minho stands, pulls out his wallet. “Sammy, is it?”

“Sam, sir,” the barman is close to Minho’s age. He has intricate tattoos on his forearms, a warm smile and soft brown eyes. He’s well built, muscles pulling at the seams of his shirt and a whole head taller than Minho.

“You know the gentleman that just ordered the scotch on the rocks?”

“Jisung? Yes, he’s a regular, sir. He comes here every Friday.”

“Why Friday?”

Sam shrugs, “Probably the DJ, sir. His set is Friday. Friday’s are our most popular night.”

Minho absorbs this little tit-bit. “Would your manager be available to speak with?”

“Uh, we don’t currently have a manager, sir. Is there a problem? Perhaps I can assist?”

“No, no problem,” Minho hands Sam his business card, “I’m thinking of buying this place. I’m just wondering if there’s a reason I shouldn’t.”

Sam considers his business card for a moment. Eyes him warily.

“All confidential,” Minho assures him.

“You seem like a decent fella, so I’ll tell you why you probably want to look elsewhere,” Sam tucks the card into his pocket, leans forward on the bar. “We’ve had some trouble with the Park family. Have you heard of them?”

“I’m familiar.” There’s always a fucking catch. “What kind of trouble?”

“Drugs, mostly. They’ve been in here pushing, claiming whatever pill they have is something it’s not. We had a few OD’s last year. The owner put things in place to help prevent harm to the punters. The dancers are linked to security through ear pieces, they have a good vantage point of the surroundings, see. We have staff in the toilets now. We’re doing what we can, but I think the owner received some threats, and that’s why he’s dipping out. I don’t really know more than that.”

“Where is the current owner?”

“Last I heard, he ran off to Jeju with his family. Then this place went on the market the very next day. Wasn’t a nice way to hear you’re about to lose your job.”

“But you all stayed?”

“A few cut and run, including the managers, but I’ve been here six years. Many of the dancers too. I care about this place, and the staff. It seems unreasonable just to leave because there’s some asshats trying to ruin things. And…” he hesitates. “We’re LGBTQ+ friendly, sir.” Minho keeps his expression neutral. “There aren’t many places like this in Seoul. I don’t think many new buyers will be okay with that. The people that stayed, stayed because there isn’t anywhere safe for them to go. There isn’t anywhere else where they can be themselves.”

Minho decides he really likes Sam. It’s a gut feeling. “Thank you, Sam,” he drops some money on the bar. “Get yourself a drink.”

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t–”

“Give it to charity, if you’d feel more comfortable.”

Sam nods.

“And,” Minho drops more money on the counter. “Get a drink for Jisung.”

“Of course, sir. Shall I say it came from you?”

Discreet too. If Minho’s bid is unsuccessful, he’s finding somewhere for Sam. He’d find somewhere for all of them. “Tell him it’s from the talent scout.”

“’Talent scout’, yes, sir.”

“And Sam, if the Parks start trouble, don’t waste your time calling the police, you reach me on the number on that card.”

Sam smiles, reaches behind the bar and pulls out a baseball bat studded with nails, holds it on the counter. “I think I can handle a few thugs, but sure, if something crops up that I think we can’t handle, I’ll give you a call.”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

“You bought this place?” Seungmin is massaging his temple with his fingers.

It's been a month since his first visit. A week since the paperwork was signed and sealed and now The DLC is officially Clowder owned. There was no auction. Minho just made an offer too good to refuse. After that, everything happened swiftly. He’s feeling really rather proud of himself. “Yes.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seungmin sighs and it’s quite amazing that his sigh is audible above the bass of the electronic music.

Minho chuckles, “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s not viable,” Seungmin says. “Cosmetics alone will put this place in the red.”

“We’ll make it back,” Minho says. “Look at it! It’s popular.”

“It’s south of the river.”

“So? We’re expanding.”

“Father will hate it,” Seungmin pointedly nods at a tall male dancer with chocolate coloured skin, on a podium wearing metallic silver short shorts and angel wings. Nothing more. His female counterpart is wearing devil horns, a red thong and platform heels. Seungmin has gone a pretty shade of pink.

“He doesn’t like any of our places. And the fact this is south of the river means he’s unlikely to stop by for a visit. And there’s ten flats above this that I now own as well.”

“Well,” Seungmin considers this. “That’s good. The rent from them will keep this place afloat. What’s the return on each?”

“Nothing, the tenants all work here. Their last landlord stiffed them, so I’ve said they only have to pay their electric, water and rates. In exchange they keep this place clean and going. It’s a win-win.”

Seungmin’s side eye is next level. “I am running out of fucks. You literally have no business sense.” Seungmin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Well, I suppose you’ve gone and done it now, so I have to come in and sort out the mess you’ve made.”

“That’s our dynamic isn’t it?” Minho signals at Sam who is hovering at the far end of the bar. “Seungmin, this is the manager, Sam. Sam, this is my brother Seungmin.”

Sam bows courteously, “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Hello,” Seungmin says soullessly.

“Sam, will you show Seungmin the books? He’ll want to see everything you have, so I’d prepare some coffee. And be candid with him. There’s no secrets when it comes to my brother. He’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to getting to the truth of things.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes.

“Of course, sir. If it’s okay with you, I will arrange some cover for the bar and we can go to the office?”

Seungmin nods and Sam walks to the far end of the bar.

“Why’s the manager working the bar?”

“He doesn’t like being idle and he was the barman when I took over. I’m not about to argue with him.”

“You kept the original staff?”

“Yes and made Sam manager. The staff like him, and they trust him and so do I. He seems like a good man. And I’ve bought the exclusivity of the DJ. He’ll only perform at our clubs going forward. Hyunjin's coming in over the weekend to work on tightening the security.”

“This is getting worse,” Seungmin sighs and stands. “I should have brought two red pens.”

“You love it,” Minho winks at him. “I bet your nerdy little soul is getting hard just thinking about all those receipts out of order and dusty account books and—”

“I can not emphasise this enough: fuck you,” but he’s smiling.

“—spreadsheets,” Minho groans, then laughs when Seungmin thwacks him on the shoulder.

Sam returns, he’s found a female member to cover the bar for him. “Shall we, sir?”

“Sam, every time you call me ‘sir’, I get heartburn and turn around looking for my old man. You can call me Seungmin.”

Sam smiles, “Of course. If you’d like to follow me?”

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” Seungmin says with the air of someone threatening one’s life. As he passes, he very deliberately hits Minho’s knee with his briefcase. Smirks.

Minho flips him off.

“That’s not very demure,” a familiar voice says now.

Minho is smiling before he turns to look at him. Tonight Jisung is wearing a silk leopard print shirt over a tight black top. His waist pinched in black trousers. He’s wearing his usual combat boots. “Have you been lurking?”

“Me? No, I’ve been on the dance floor.” He looks Minho up and down, “Oh, dear, you’re still working. Do you ever get a night off?”

“I literally just clocked off for the night.”

“Hmm,” Jisung reaches over and loosens Minho’s tie. Undoes the top button of his shirt, his fingers feel warm as they brush Minho’s skin. “That’s a bit better. Now you look like someone who’s just clocked off.” He leans against the bar on one elbow. It accentuates the curve of his waist, his hip jutting out just so. He knows exactly what he’s doing and it takes an incredible amount of effort for Minho not to look. “Who was the cutey you were with?”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Maybe,” Jisung smiles, nods to the lady behind the bar, who immediately starts preparing his drink. “Are you going to drink tonight?”

“I’m driving.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t know how to have fun. And you haven’t answered my question about your handsome male friend.”

“He’s my brother,” Minho says simply. “And you sound like someone who doesn’t know how to have fun without alcohol.”

“Sometimes, alcohol just makes things feel better.” Jisung looks at the glass of whisky that the bar staff has just placed in front of him. His smile has cooled, his eyes taking on a far off look. He looks kind of… sad, which doesn’t suit him. “Can I tell you a secret?” His fingers are touching Minho’s now, feather soft, ticklish touches. His finger tips are calloused, but still softer than Minho’s

Minho watches Jisung's thumb trace his scarred knuckles. Waits.

“I’m actually a very shy person in the real world.”

“I don’t believe that for one second,” Minho says, allowing his fingers to trace the creases on Jisung’s palm.

Jisung smiles at him, let’s go, starts to walk backwards, “Maybe I’ll see you on the dance floor?” and too soon he’s gone, lost in the throng of the revellers.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” the girl behind the bar says. “He didn’t take his drink.”

Minho unknots his tie, wraps it around his hand and drops it into his coat pocket. He’s warm, and he knows it has very little, if anything, to do with the temperature of the club. He walks over to the railings overlooking the dance floor. It doesn’t take him long to find Jisung in the centre, dancing with two female companions. A girl wearing a scarlet mini dress is at his front, a girl in a royal blue bodysuit is behind him, both grinding up on him. Jisung’s hands are on the girl-in-red’s thighs, the girl-in-blue is kissing his neck and he is biting his lip. As Minho watches, the girls alternate between kissing each other and kissing Jisung’s neck, their pretty little hands smoothing over Jisung's chest, his waist, his thighs. Minho feels heat rising in his chest. His knuckles whiten against the railings. And now Jisung opens his eyes and he looks directly at Minho. No, not at him, into him. Even from here, he must be able to sense Minho’s desire. Minho’s jealousy.

Feeling hot and going dumb, Minho pushes away from the railing, walks to the exit onto the rain slicked street. Grateful for the coolness of the late night air. He turns right into the alley running alongside the club, to cut through to his car, parked a block away. It’s a habit he hasn’t broken out of since one of his brother's cars was firebombed a few years back.

“Didn’t you enjoy the show?”

Minho pauses, glances over his shoulder at Jisung who is walking towards him, looking fine despite the lip gloss staining his throat. Minho pushes his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Not really my thing.”

“The girls, or me, or the combination?” Jisung asks teasingly.

Minho knows he already knows the answer to that, but still makes sure to smirk at him, “All of the above.”

Jisung is very close now, he smells of warm whisky, sweat, perfume and that other smell that underlies all that. That intoxicating one. A heady, earthy smell. “Hmm, he lies too,” Jisung says, his fingers and thumb rubbing the fabric of Minho’s coat collar. “So why don’t you tell me what it is you do like?”

“I think you’re drunk,” Minho tells him.

“I assure you I’m not as drunk as I should be,” Jisung's fingers brush Minho’s belt and Minho seizes hold of his wrist, wrenches it away, which takes a lot of effort and willpower on his part. Jisung pouts and something about the look suggests to Minho that he’s someone who is used to getting what he wants. It’s wrong of him to show that. In part, because Minho finds the look a bit of a turn on, “What are you scared of?”

“I think you have that the wrong way round,” Minho leans forward, his breath warm against Jisung’s ear. “I don’t think you’d be able to handle me even on your best day.”

“You quite sure about that?” Jisung says and his lips brush the spot below Minho’s ear which is somehow directly connected to a spot behind Minho’s belly button. He’s grateful Jisung can’t see his face at this moment.

He releases Jisung, steps back, reaches into his pocket for a business card and pen. Scribbles his personal number on the back. Holds it out.

Jisung snatches the card from him, looks at it. “Lee Minho.”

“Call me when you’re not pissed, Jisung.”

He takes a moment to marvel at the look of confusion on Jisung’s face that he already knows his name, turns on his heel and walks up the alley.

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

At his car, he pulls off his coat, lays it in the back seat. Slides in, starts the engine and sits there. Hands tight on the steering wheel as he tries not to think about his dick, which is very much still contemplating Jisung.

His head is filled with Jisung’s scent. His skin still tingles where Jisung had touched him. Jisung had been willing, and Minho had wanted so badly to do unspeakable things to him in that alley. Why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he taps the touch screen on the centre console to read the message.

Unknown Number: I am pissed, as in angry. Hence the text. J.

“Who the fuck says hence anymore?” Minho wonders aloud as he saves the number into his personal contacts under the pseudonym, Ace. He taps a quick reply.

LM: Yeah? Why’s that?

His phone rings, he answers on the car's bluetooth handsfree. “Hey Seungmin. Are you done already?”

“Hardly. I’m taking some books and a hard drive home with me.”

“You dirty boy.”

“Fuck you,” Seungmin says, but Minho can hear the amusement in his voice. Through the line he can hear the bass of the music. Can imagine he’s still sitting in the back office of the club, arms deep in a bag of receipts.

“How’d you get on?”

“We might have a bit of a problem.”

“With Sam?”

“No, you’re right about him, decent bloke. I met a few of the staff and they all respect him. Sam already had the books and all that organised after you made him manager. Took him a week to sort through. Apparently the other managers were a bit nonchalant about bookkeeping. But Sam seems to know what he’s doing.”

“Oh, lord, did I find your ideal? Can I be the best man at your wedding?”

“If I ever get married, you won’t be invited.”

“But I already have the perfect calculator picked out.”

“Min, can you stop pissing about and listen to me for a second? The problem is the Parks.”

“Yeah, Sam mentioned the drug problem last year, but it seems like that’s died off since they put new measures in place.”

“Yeah, well, there might be a reason for that. It looks like the previous owner was syphoning off some of the profits and paying them off.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Minho slaps the steering wheel. “You are kidding me?”

His phone buzzes and a new message flashes on the console.

Ace: you got me all horny and left me.

“No. It’s the only thing Sam and I can come up with. Every week, until the place went up for auction, there’s been a cash payment. No name, no reference, just a circle. It’s not a small number either. Sam reckons it’s started at about fifteen percent of the weekly intake, but it’s been steadily increasing. I haven’t looked at the numbers too closely, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think Sam’s wrong. The most recent payments sit at about forty percent. The only time it differentiates is if there’s a missed payment. The following payment almost triples.”

“Late payment fee,” Minho is staring at the ceiling of his car, cursing the Parks, the higher powers and himself.

“Looks like it. And that’s before rates and wages and stock— ”

“— fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seungmin sighs. Minho realises that Seungmin sighs a lot when Minho’s involved. “It’s not good.”

“Protection money?” no wonder why the previous owner practically bit his hand off on the first offer. Minho considers ways he can find him, maybe make him see the errors of his ways…

Ace: I’m adding tease to the list of your qualities.

“That’s what we think. Sam reckons the start of the payments tally about the time the problems with the violence and the drugs seemed to have faded out. Which he’d always thought was a bit odd, but he didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes and whenever he asked about it, he was fobbed off. It’s one of the first things he spotted when he was trying to get the books in order for you. Apparently he tried to talk to you about it, but you said something along the lines of ‘I’m not interested in the accounting side of things’.”

“He told you that, huh?”

“No. He didn’t say a thing. I filled in his discreet silence with words I can hear you saying.”

Seungmin; forever the smartest. What a pain in the arse.

“I think that’s a form of entrapment.”

“I think you need to look before you leap next time,” Seungmin says. “So far there are five weeks unpaid, so there’s trouble round the corner. At least you bought it under the family name, it might make them hesitate to do anything stupid.”

“Ah, well… the thing about that is—”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“It was quicker doing it directly, through my own solicitor. I figured I’d transfer it to the family once things were up and running—”

“So the club isn’t even under the protection of the family banner? You do know you’ve fucked up, don’t you? That you’ve made a big fucking mistake?”

“Yeah, Seungmo, you don’t need to tell me—”

“—huge, colossal, major–”

“– I said you don’t need to tell me,” Minho sighs. When the fuck did he start making mistakes like this? He’d always trusted his gut, and now… “Well this is fucking great. Make sure Hyunjin gets there first thing tomorrow. I really want the security on that place reviewed.”

“I already messaged him and gave his number to Sam. He’ll be there before ten tomorrow. I’ll see if we can speed up the transfer to the family. Which means Father will have to get involved.”

“Great. I’ll look forward to that bollocking.”

“Sucks to be you. And somewhere in between all that I’ll dig into the rest of the accounts over the weekend, see if there's an indication of where the payments went.”

“Yeah, well, use protection.”

“Fuck you,” Seungmin says and ends the call.

Minho stares at the hood of his car for several moments. Lifts his phone from his pocket, rereads the messages from Jisung, taps out his own.

LM: You’re making a list? What you got so far?

The response swoops back almost instantly.

Ace: It’s a work in progress. So far, you’re Trouble. Capitalised.

Great, even a stranger knows what a fucking liability I am.

Ace: I want to do terribly explicit things to you. LM: I told you, not even on your best day…

“I’d make you beg,” Jisung says as soon as Minho answers. There is the sound of traffic and voices on the other end of the line.

“Well, ‘hello’ to you too,” Minho says in response.

Jisung hums down the phone, “I’m really not that drunk, you know.”

“Ah, but you’ve been drinking and I’d prefer you to be fully aware of what I’m doing to you in the moment.”

“I'm totally compos mentis, if that’s what you’re worried about. You could do anything you want to me without any guilt.” The traffic noise has quietened significantly, replaced by the sound of footsteps echoing off walls. The sound of raised voices in the distance. “I’d let you do anything.”

Minho leans his head back, adjusts his trousers.

“You still there?”

“Hmm. Keep talking.”

Even through the phone, Minho can hear the smile in his voice. Can picture it. His pretty lips. “Is it the sound of my voice you want to hear, or certain words and phrases?”

“I like the sound of your voice, but I like the things you’re saying.”

Jisung chuckles and the sound travels straight down between Minho’s thighs. “What are you doing now?”

“Sitting in my car.” Trying not to think about my dick.

“Just sitting? Don’t you have anywhere to go?” the shouts on the other end of the line are growing louder.

“I’m debating whether to come and get you.”

“Why the debate? Come and get me,” Jisung says.

Fuck. “I’ll ruin you.”

“Is that a promise?”

Fuck. “Tell me where you are.”

“I’m east of— hang on— OI!” Jisung's sudden shout is jarring. “What the fuck? Get the fuck away—”

There’s a male voice, “Fuck off!”

A different male voice, “Mind your business!”

A female scream, which sends a cold chill down Minho’s spine. “Jisung? What the fuck’s going on? Where the fuck are you?”

“I said get the fuck away from her!” there are more shouts, the sound of scuffling, a hard crack and the line goes dead.

Minho jams the car into drive, tyres screeching as he speeds eastwards in the direction of the club, scanning alleyways and side streets as he passes, looking for any sign of Jisung and no clue about where he was or where he was headed. He stabs at the console, trying to call Jisung back, but a feminine robotic voice says: I’m sorry, but the person you are trying to call is unavailable right now. Please try again later.

“FUCK!” Minho slaps the steering wheel, and catches sight of a young woman wearing a black dress sprinting into the road in bare feet. His tyres screech and smoke as he comes to a stop, the girl’s hands flat on the bonnet of his car. Her face stained with mascara, her lip bleeding, her left eye swelling. Minho reaches over to the passenger door, pushes it open. “Get in the car!” he yells at her.

She hesitates for only a second or two, looking over her shoulder before scrambling into the passenger seat. As soon as she is in, the door barely closed, Minho is jerking the car in the direction she appeared from, his lights illuminating a long alley too narrow for his car, and towards the back, he can see the silhouettes of five figures.

Minho drops his phone in the woman's lap, “Call the police!” he tells her as he leaps out of the car, his left hand in his pocket finds the birthday present Felix had gifted him last year; his brass knuckle duster.

He knocks the first guy out with a teeth shattering, blood splattering left hook, before the others realise he’s even there. He disarms the second one by dislocating his shoulder, then his knee for good measure. And now he sees Jisung, wide eyed and fucking furious, his lip is split and his teeth red. He’s standing on the neck of a third man, whilst punching the shit out of the fourth. Minho grabs the fourth into a headlock, digs his knee into his spine and Jisung punches him so hard Minho feels the impact in his chest as the man slumps and falls unconscious to the ground.

Minho bends forward, hands on his knees, the adrenaline firing through his blood. Jisung walks over to the right wall, where the fifth man is cowering, face bruised and bloodied. Judging by the unnatural angle of his hand, he has a broken arm. Bracing a hand on the wall, Jisung draws his foot back like an American football player and kicks the man full in the groin. It makes Minho wince. The cowering man slides sideways and curls in on himself and Jisung lines up another kick, but Minho steps forward, drops a hand on his shoulder.

Jisung, fist clenched, whirls on him, but Minho expects it, his forearm blocking Jisung’s. “That’s enough,” Minho says.

Jisung doesn’t look convinced, but his shoulders relax. He backs off from the man and starts scanning the floor of the alley, nudging arms and legs with the toe of his boot.

Minho looks at the carnage, “You tried to fight—” he counts quickly, “—six men? On your own?”

“I wasn’t trying, I was doing a bloody brilliant job. Ah-ha, found it,” he crouches down, lifts an object from the floor. It’s a mobile phone, he shows it to Minho, the screen is cracked. “Cunts.”

And Minho can’t help it, he laughs.

“We should find the girl, make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s in my car, calling the police.”

“Hyung,” Jisung whines, his lips pouting, as he gestures to the bruised, bloodied and broken men at his feet. “The police? Seriously?”

Minho sees his point.

Jisung rolls his eyes, starts walking towards the car at the top of the alley, the headlights shining through his silk shirt, so from here Minho can see the silhouette of his tiny waist. Jisung raises his hands level with his shoulders, approaches the car like you would approach an injured animal. He stoops down near the passenger door, “Hi my dear, are you okay? You’re safe now.”

Her wailing is too high pitched for Minho to understand her.

Minho pulls off his knuckle duster, drops it into his trouser pocket, and starts to walk back towards the car when he almost trips over a silver shoe. He figures it belongs to the woman in the car, looks for the other one, finds it a few feet away and a small black purse with a chain link handle. When he reaches the car, the passenger door is open and the girl is leaning against Jisung sobbing against his shoulder as Jisung strokes her long black hair and makes soft soothing noises against the top of her head. Minho passes Jisung the shoes and the bag, reaches into his back seat and pulls out his coat, “Here,” he says, as he drapes it over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” her tiny voice says, as she sniffles. The entirety of the left side of her face is purpling and swollen. Her tiny legs are cut and bruised and there are notable bruises on her arms that look like hand marks. Minho feels sick and angry and he really hopes that he and Jisung have succeeded in killing one or two of those cunts. His urge to go back down into the alley to ensure they had been successful is cut off by the sound of sirens in the distance.

“My dear,” Jisung says gently. Cupping the girls head and looking her in the eye that hasn’t swollen shut. “I am so so sorry, but we can’t be here when the police come. You understand that, don’t you?”

The girl sniffs, takes a shaky breath and nods. She steps out of the car and Jisung supports her and helps her sit on the pavement. She tries to take the coat off her shoulders, “No,” Minho says as gently as he can. “You keep hold of that.”

Her smile is wan as she nods and pulls his coat tighter around her shoulders.

Minho scans the area, the sirens drawing closer. “See that broken lamppost over there?” he points at a side street across the road. “We’ll be right there. We won’t go anywhere until we know you’re safe.”

The girl nods again and Jisung smiles warmly up at Minho.

Minho gets into the car, reverses it a few feet with the passenger door still open, lifts his phone off the passenger seat and waits for Jisung who is still speaking to the girl. Stroking her hair gently. The sirens are uncomfortably close now, Minho can make out the lights reflecting off buildings in the distance.

Finally, Jisung jogs over to the car, slips in and pulls the door closed. His eyes never leave the girl as Minho pulls alongside the side street, reverses into it to stop under the broken streetlight, just as he promised her. He kills the engine, blanketing them in darkness.

A police car arrives first, a female officer sits on the pavement with the girl and holds her as she sobs and her colleague, flashlight and gun drawn, enters the alley. He returns a minute later, speaking into his radio and they are clearly asking the girl what happened and she is pointing the opposite direction to where Minho’s car is sitting.

“Good girl,” Jisung says quietly.

Another police car arrives and the male colleague of the female officer points in the direction the girl had. Sirens wailing, the second car tears off in that direction. Now, an ambulance arrives, and the female officer, with support from a paramedic, help her into the back of it, and now the girl looks at them, smiles feebly and waves and Minho can breathe again, knowing that she is now safe.

“Did they…” he can’t bring himself to finish the question.

“No, I came across them before they…” Jisung can’t bring himself to finish the answer.

They remain in the car, watching from a comfortable distance as more police cars and ambulances arrive. They can hear the groans and moans of the men as they are loaded onto stretchers. It appears to Minho that the paramedics, especially the female ones, aren’t too worried about giving them pain meds or being gentle with them. Each ambulance departs carrying one patient and one police officer.

Jisung looks down at his hands. Blood is crusted on his skin, his knuckles torn to shreds. He looks at his shirt, blood spatter joining the leopard print spots. “I really liked this shirt,” he sighs.

Smiling, Minho starts the engine, pulls out of the side street slowly, wary that there may be officers still in the vicinity.

“Where are we going?”

“My place.”

“I’m really not in the mood.”

“Neither am I. But you look like you could do with something to eat. Maybe a shower?”

“Hmm,” Jisung leans his head against the passenger window. “I am hungry.”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

TASTE M.List & Sypnosis

Chapter 1 - Parley

Chapter 3 - Broken Compass

#TASTE | Minsung #skz fic #Lee Minho #Han Jisung #Christopher Bahng #Bang Chan #Changbin #Seungmin #Hyunjin #Felix #Jeongin #Soonie #Stray Kids Fan Fiction #Mafia AU #Romeo x Romeo

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intrikatie · 18 days ago

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♡ Pairing: Minho x Jisung ♤ Genre: Mafia AU, Romeo x Romeo ♢ Chapter Warnings: Graphic descriptions of Violence, foul language throughout ♤ Author Note: introduction of several reoccurring OC's THANK YOU @skzdreamer13 for getting me through this chapter! I hope it doesn't disappoint! ♧ MINORS DNI🔞

♤ ♡ TASTE Synopsis & Chapter List ♢ ♧

<< Chapter 4 - The Wolf & His Pack ♤ ♡ ♢ ♧ Chapter 6 - Hoodie Season [WT] >>

Chapter 5: Comflex

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

The smell hits him first. A mixture of sweat, deodorant and talc. Then the rhythmic sounds of bags being punched, ropes being skipped, weights being lifted. The air is warm and humid despite the air conditioning humming under the sound of the pulsating electronic dance music. It’s all oddly comforting.

A traditional boxing club in every sense, but with better equipment and a very strict acceptance criteria; knock out, family or referral only.

“There you are!” Nikko says from the ring at the centre of the hall. He's leaning on the ropes, his hands and knuckles wrapped in black gauze. He’s already sweating. The black hair that isn’t pulled into a knot at the back, falling in elegant tendrils over his forehead and accentuating the sharpness of his jawline. He’s wearing a loose white tank top and long black shorts. His golden-brown eyes sparkling as they watch Minho cross the hall towards him and drop his gym bag beside a vacant bench. “You’re late.”

“I’m not that late,” Minho says, pulling his blue hooded sweatshirt over his head and draping it over the bench. He tugs down the hem of his black t-shirt at the back, loosens the ties of his grey joggers.

“Oh-ho-ho! What’s that I see on your neck?”

Automatically, Minho raises his hand to cover the mark just below his left ear. Truly, it isn’t even that bad. Trust Nikko to spot it from several metres away.

It's been two days and twenty-one hours since he'd spent the night with Jisung. Not that he’s counting. He still hasn't heard from him. His own pride prevented him from sending any of the several messages he'd typed out to him. The mark on his neck, a leopard-print shirt in his wardrobe and a slightly morose cat at home, the only reminders that Jisung had been more than a fantasy. Oh, and a television that is still trying to recommend stupid reality dating shows. Algorithm wrecker.

Nikko laughs, slapping the top rope, before announcing, “My boy got some!”

There's a spontaneous round of whistles and applause from the dozen or so members scattered throughout the hall. Minho raises a hand, thanking them for their acknowledgment of his sexual prowess, then flips off Nikko.

Despite dreading what’s about to come, he settles on the bench, unzipping his bag to retrieve his gauze and tape.

Nikko steps through the ropes, hopping down from the ring, punching the air as he bounces over to him on his wrapped feet before he drops on the bench at his side. Minho braces himself for Nikko says next, “So, tell me. Who? When? Where? And how?”

And there it is.

“I’m not telling you a damn thing,” Minho says, tearing tape into two inch strips and sticking the ends to the edge of the bench.

“Oh come on!” Nikko can’t arch just one eyebrow, but Minho can tell this is what he’s trying to do, because he looks a little startled, “You know I live vicariously through your sexual exploits. I wanna hear!”

“No,” Minho says as he starts wrapping his right hand with the white gauze. “And stop doing that with your face. You look like a scared goldfish.”

“Was I even close?”

“No.”

Nikko laughs, “Come on, give me a little something-something.”

“Why are you even interested?” Minho asks, “Last I checked, you have a girlfriend, or whatever witchcraft that is.”

“Three months,” Nikko shakes his head, smiling fondly. “Can you believe that? Three months?”

“Jess deserves a fruit basket.”

“Right?” Nikko sighs. “I don’t know what I did to deserve her. Fuck knows what she sees in me.”

For this, Minho can offer several answers; he’s young, handsome, wealthy but not pretentious, has a great body, a great sense of humour and is loyal to a fault. Instead he says, “Just propose to her already.”

“Man, I’m warning you. It’s on the cards.”

Now Minho arches an eyebrow, “So why the fuck are you asking me about my sex-life when you’ve got one eye on wedding plans?”

“Your experiences are vastly different from mine.”

“That’s because you’re a massive heterosexual,” Minho points out, “Aside from your little experiment with–”

Nikko claps a gauzed hand over Minho’s mouth, “Shush!” he hisses as he looks around, checking that no-one overheard. “I told you that in confidence.” When Nikko drops his hand, Minho smiles his cat-like smile at him, because he knows Nikko finds it annoying. “You’re such a chore!” Nikko chuckles. Thumbing his nose he leans forward, elbows on his knees looking back at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You like this one.”

Minho scoffs, “I wouldn’t have slept with him if I didn’t like him.” I have some standards.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Nikko says. “Usually you have no problem giving me the explicit details of your encounters. I’m still in awe of what happened between you and that Brazilian three years ago.”

Minho can’t help smiling. That was fun. Mostly, because neither of them could understand each other, through words, at least. Though Minho couldn't forget how they said maravilhoso it wasn’t the same as his experience with Jisung. No previous experiences quite match up to that, which is odd, because he doesn’t feel like he’d done anything different. And yet, Minho can’t help recalling the way Jisung threw that punch. The way he smiled. The pink hue of his cheeks when he got shy. The sparkle in his eyes. The way his waist fit perfectly in Minho’s arms. The way he arched up to meet him. The way he called out 'My Irino'.

“Your ears are getting red,” Nikko reaches up and gently touches Minho’s ear with cool fingers. Minho tugs his head away and Nikko chuckles, “I think you really like this one, that’s why you want to keep him private.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…it’s…” he says, weaving the gauze between his fingers, thinking hard. “It was just… different.”

“Different? How?”

Earth shattering, time bending, mind altering and… familiar…

“I don’t know,” Minho frowns down at his gauze. He’s gone wrong somewhere, thoughts of Jisung clouding his mind. Minho unravels a layer and rewraps it. He peels a length of tape from the bench, securing the gauze. Flexes his fingers to ensure it’s sturdy. “Just different.”

Nikko pushes his eyebrow up with his finger.

“Piss off!” Minho laughs at him, jostling him heavily with his shoulder. He starts to wrap his left hand.

“Fine!” Nikko pushes himself off the bench, “Hurry up and warm up.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Minho says.

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

Minho takes the mitts.

Nikko is quick, sharp and fucking lethal. Despite the mitts, Minho can feel every jab.

“Wanna kick?” Minho asks him.

Nikko nods, and Minho readjusts his stance, after a few more high-low combo punches, he raises a mitt level with his head. Nikko spins, hits it perfectly, the shockwave travelling down Minho's arms, torso and through the soles of his feet.

“OI!” The shout booms across the hall. Several trainees pause mid-lift or mid-punch to see exactly who the shout is aimed at. Clowder ‘The Titan’ Jae, club owner, jogs down the metal staircase from his office, his heavy boots clanging against the steps. He’s a tall man, six foot something with shoulders that look like they could support a globe. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, branded with a poisonous-green COMFLEX across his broad chest. His hair, once jet black has more silver in it these days. But it doesn’t subtract from his air of authority. Jae is a scary looking man. Many of the trainees here are petrified of him. As they should be. Minho fucking loves him. “What have I told you two fuckwits? Wear your headgear!”

“I’m not about to kick him in the head,” Nikko calls back, his hands on his hips, panting.

Jae keeps advancing on them, ignoring the bows of the trainees. From up here, it looks like a ripple effect. It’s pretty cool. “No headgear. No kicks. That’s the rule.”

“Since when?”

“Since thirty fucking seconds ago when I saw his dirty great big foot careening for your numbskull.”

Nikko chuckles, “He’s not a numbskull.”

“And his foot isn’t that big,” Minho laughs.

“But it’s dirty?” Nikko questions, offended.

“I can smell them from up here,” Minho says.

“Pack it in the pair of you,” Jae threads himself through the ropes before the furious façade disappears and he grins. He hugs Nikko, slapping him roughly on the back. Then ruffles his hair. “Get a fucking haircut.”

“I can’t, my girl says I look like a prince with long hair, and what my queen wants, she gets.”

Jae rolls his eyes, then turns to Minho, “How are you, Min?”

Minho holds a mitt under his arm, tugging it off so he can shake Jae’s gigantic hand. “Good, sir. And you?”

Jae ruffles Minho’s hair, “Happy that you haven’t gone back to blonde.”

“I don’t know,” Nikko says, “I liked his golden cat alter-ego.”

“It’s getting long,” Jae comments, ignoring Nikko entirely. “I thought you preferred it short.”

“I did, when I was in service. Now I’m just enjoying being allowed to have it longer.”

“How are the kids? Good?”

“Yeah, all good.”

“And your shadow? Mini-Min?”

“I was including him and you know I hate that you call him that,” Minho says.

“I would like to see him here more often.”

“He’s picking me up after I’m done here. He’s been looking into some accounts for me.”

“Hmm, that’s not what I meant. He’s a string bean. It won’t do.”

“He’s never been the fighting type,” Minho says, which isn’t inaccurate. Seungmin can fight, but he’s very selective about the battles he chooses. Further proof that he’s the smart one of the family.

“And my brother is okay with that, is he?”

“Yeah,” Minho lies. “Besides, I’m responsible for the youngers.

Seungmin is brilliant in other areas, and I’m happy to utilise those skills. I have this big lug,” he claps Nikko on the shoulder, “Felix and Hyunjin skilled up enough for any fighting requirements,” he knows he sounds defensive, because, well, when it comes to Seungmin, he is. Seungmin is the best of them. He doesn’t understand why Jae or his father can’t understand this simple fact. “Seungmin benefits us all by having actual brains.”

Jae still looks unconvinced. “Well, I suppose he’s not stupid enough to let someone spin kick at their unprotected head, eh?” he arches an eyebrow, and Nikko frowns enviously at him. “You two warmed up?”

They nod.

“What the fuck are you pissing about for then? Headgear on and get to it!”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

The fight goes as it often does when Minho is in the ring with Nikko. Exhaustingly.

They stopped doing rounds even before Minho had gone into service.

They made their own rules: ‘first blood’ or ‘tap out’. The longest they had gone before Minho cut Nikko was eighteen minutes. It was the only time a bout ended on first blood.

Their synchronisation is flawless. Their ‘fight’ looks more like a violently choreographed dance, not unlike Capoeira. It’s not by design. They just know each other too well. They’ve trained with each other since they were six years old. They know each other's moves and can effortlessly predict what the other is about to do. Minho knows Nikko’s left foot always slides half-an-inch forward before he’s about to throw a right hook. Nikko knows Minho is about to kick, even before Minho has his foot off the floor.

Despite submitting to Jae’s request to wear padded headgear, they forgo wearing chest guards or shin pads. They know, in the real world, getting hit hurts. You have to know how to utilise the pain and hit back. But the headgear is annoying, interrupting Minho’s field of vision. Nikko catches him with a teeth jarring jab to his shoulder. Minho, in response, axes Nikko’s thigh with his heel.

It’s not long before they draw a crowd as other trainees forgo their own training regimes to watch the Clowder’s battle in the ring. Soon, they are choosing sides, betting between each other on whether the Cat or the Lynx will take the win.

A boxing ring is smaller than an MMA octagon, but Minho prefers it. He likes the forced proximity. Nikko might have a longer reach but Minho is quicker. He spends most of his time ducking and diving, rolling and dodging. The canvas beneath them becoming increasingly slippery from their combined sweat. Minho has to be patient.

“Getting tired?” Minho asks a little breathlessly. He’s fucking exhausted. Every muscle and sinew in his arms and legs feeling as though they are on fire.

“Fuck you,” Nikko says, blinking sweat from his eyes.

Minho smiles round his black mouth guard. Nikko is grouchy, which means he is tired. Minho only has to keep going a little longer.

Nikko’s spin kicks are becoming sloppier. His punches, a little less centred. Then Nikko does what Minho has been waiting for. He bares his blue mouth guard. He’s trying to get air into his lungs. He’s feeling it now.

Minho launches on the opportunity, the shift from defence to offence taking Nikko and the spectators by surprise, their cheers and shouts loud above the rush of blood in Minho’s ears. Minho catches him on the right side of his protected head three times before Nikko can raise his forearm to block him and Minho instantly switches to lower body blows. Backed into the corner, Nikko spins to his right, his left foot sliding that telltale half-an-inch forward, and Minho spins to his side, the right hook missing his face by millimetres. Minho snatches hold of Nikko’s extended forearm, his feet leaving the floor, his legs encircling Nikko’s waist in a koala hug. The momentum of Nikko’s punch combined with Minho’s full weight wrapped around him, alters his centre of gravity and tips him off balance.

They go down together. Nikko spins as they do, landing full on top of Minho, knocking the air from Minho’s lungs in a spray of saliva. But Minho doesn’t relax his grip. In here, it would mean his defeat, but out there, in the real world, letting go would mean death. In here, he’s only required to hold on, he doesn’t have to break a neck.

The spectators are screaming at them now. Slapping the canvas, urging Nikko to get up and Minho to hold on. Jae stands at the ropes, arms folded over his chest, towel around his neck, watching on, looking bored. Nikko might have an advantage when it comes to height and reach, but he doesn’t have Minho’s core strength. On the ground, Minho is better. He only has to hold on.

Grunting, Nikko wriggles and writhes, trying to grip Minho’s wrists, forearms, ankles, anything to get Minho to release him. His blunt fingernails claw at Minho’s sweaty skin, seeking purchase, seeking an escape. He reaches towards Minho’s head, fingers reaching towards Minho’s eyes as his elbow jabs Minho’s ribs and legs. Minho only has to hold on.

Then Nikko goes still, “Arsehole,” he says, as he taps Minho’s thigh three times.

Minho instantly let’s go. Nikko, still lying on top of him, starts laughing and Minho is laughing too. Hands reach down, helping them up off the canvas, cool water hits the back of Minho’s neck, sending a refreshing chill down his spine. He spits out his mouthguard as someone unclasps his headgear and he’s supported to a stool in the blue corner.

“You could have had him five minutes earlier,” Jae says, never satisfied, his massive arms folded across that broad chest of his. “He lost his balance after the fourth spin kick. You could’ve taken him down then with a leg swipe.”

“I would’ve broken his ankle if I did that,” Minho says, nodding a silent ‘thank you’ to a trainee who hands him a towel. Minho scrubs sweat from his face. In the real world, breaking ankles is a good way of winning. Minho had done it. In here though, it’s war games. Minho and Nikko don’t pull punches. They hit to hurt, but they would never try to actually maim the other.

Jae leans over the ropes to speak into Minho’s ear, “I would’ve called that a teachable moment,” he says, before hopping down to the floor. “Everyone! Back to work!”

Minho watches him cross the hall, back towards his office.

“Nineteen minutes!” Nikko calls from the red corner laughing heartily.

Minho grins, “And no blood!”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

In the changing room, Minho towels his hair, pulls on clean sweats and a long sleeve shirt. Rotating his shoulder, he sits on a bench and starts to roll a sock. Nikko, towel around his waist, his wet hair brushing the top of his shoulders, sits beside him and hands him a mobile phone.

“They’ve called a meet.”

Instinctively, Minho glances up to check they’re alone before glancing at the message.

♧ Lil’ Wolf: Business. Usual spot. 1400 Weds.

Minho hands the phone back, resumes pulling his sock on, “He’s still a man of few words.”

“‘Spose there’s no point being poetical about it,” Nikko reaches into his gym bag and fishes out a change of clothes. “You want to take this one?”

“Nah,” Minho says automatically. “It’ll be the usual bullshit. Some affiliate ruffling feathers on the wrong side of the river. I can’t be arsed.” It’s partially true.

Nikko sighs.

Minho looks at him, “Do you want me to take it?”

There’s only a two week age difference between them, but Nikko’s legitimacy as Clowder outweighs Minho’s age. Though Nikko has never once used his legitimacy to undermine Minho’s decisions, Minho is always conscious that he could.

They’d first met when they were four. Minho still remembers how nervous he’d been, brought up to the big house and introduced to his new brothers who were older, tough and scary. Nikko was the only one his age, a skinny, brattish thing. All teeth and snot and the only one who made Minho feel accepted. They’d bonded over toy soldiers and jam sandwiches. Had supported each other through bad break-ups, and fights. To the outside world, they are brothers in all but blood. But blood is thicker than the water of the womb.

Despite that, they had agreed when they were fourteen, that they weren’t actually brothers. But best mates. So when Minho is asked how many brothers he has, he only counts Hyunjin, Felix and Seungmin. He doesn’t count the three in prison, the three who died or the one who disappeared. And he doesn’t count Nikko. His best friend.

Nikko shakes his head, “No. I’ll do it. But I was meant to meet with Jess for lunch on Wednesday. She’s going to be pissed.”

“Take her out in the evening, make a proper night of it. Make a reservation at a posh restaurant, book a hotel and order pancakes for breakfast. That’ll make up for any lunch plans.”

Nikko half smiles, “You old romantic you.”

Minho pulls on his other sock.

“I kind of like Chan you know,” Nikko says, drawing a look of warning from Minho. “What? Come on! He’s not a bad bloke. I always wondered what you got from all your covert meetings with him, but I think I get it now.”

“There’s nothing to get,” Minho tells him, an outright lie.

“How many folks are in our position? You and I have each other, and that’s great and all, but sometimes, I like to hear his side of things. It makes what we do feel less…I dunno…less…”

“Isolated.”

“Yes!” Nikko jostles Minho’s shoulder, making Minho wince. “I knew you’d understand what I meant.”

Annoyingly, Minho understands full well. Before Minho had gone into service, it had crossed his mind that if he and Chan had met outside of their ‘family business’ meetings, they might actually be mates. He’d be someone you could share a beer with. They’d seen some shit in their time. Had probably perpetrated a lot of it. Doesn’t matter that they are on opposite sides. They’d both been in the trenches.

Which is precisely why Minho hadn’t been keen to take back the role of intermediary when he got out of service. He couldn’t afford to think of the enemy like that. Besides, Nikko had been doing a great job keeping the peace without him. Nikko’s personality, likeability is far better suited to the role. Far better suited to Chan. Though Minho occasionally feels guilty about how his last meeting with Chan had gone.

“Never let my dad hear you talk like that,” Minho says with sincerity. “I mean it. It’s okay with me, but you know what he’s like.”

“I know,” Nikko leans back against the tiles, palms a growing bruise on his ribs. “Anything I should know before I meet him?”

“Nah, it’s all quiet this end,” Minho stands, lifts his bag off the floor and zips it up. “Give me a call and let me know how it goes.”

“Sure thing.”

They bump fists.

“And order extra syrup,” Minho says, before clarifying, “For the pancakes. Jess has a sweet tooth.”

Nikko laughs, “Right, yeah. I’ll see you at home on Friday?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

Minho steps out of COMFLEX and into a horrible day. The rain seemingly coming at him sideways when his phone starts ringing.

“Sam? Everything okay?”

“Uh, yes, sir. Sorry for bothering you–”

“What’s wrong?” Minho ducks under an awning of a neighbouring café.

“Uh, well,” Sam lowers his voice, forcing Minho to increase the volume on his phone. “There’s a young lady here and she’s very keen to see you.”

“A lady? What lady?” Minho’s not sure he knows of any women who know about his connection to the DLC excluding those that already work there.

“Her name is Jin-Ae,” Sam says like this should clarify matters.

It does not. “I don’t know anyone called Jin-Ae.”

“She’s returning your coat?”

“My coat? What’s she doing with…” Minho’s brain whirs and clicks, his hand clenching around his phone as he silently curses at the universe.

“Do you want me to send her away?”

“No, no. Don’t do that. Has she been there long?”

“No sir, not long. Ten minutes or so.”

“It’s going to take me twenty minutes to get there,” Minho sees the BMW Series-7 pull up and jogs over to it, throwing his bag into the back seat and sliding in the front. “Can you keep her there–willingly, I mean.”

“I’m sure she’ll wait sir, she’s pretty keen to see you.”

“Right, Sam, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he nods to Seungmin.

Seungmin is already driving, swinging the car into the flow of traffic south westerly, towards the club.

“See you soon, sir,” Sam says, disconnecting the call.

“Trouble?” Seungmin asks.

“No,” Minho says, but he’s not entirely sure. He’s trying to understand how Jin-Ae found him.

“I see you won your little fight,” Seungmin says. “Nikko tap out?”

“How do you always know?” Minho chuckles, adjusting the seat warmer.

Seungmin shrugs, “How’s ahjussi?”

“The same,” Minho says carefully.

Not carefully enough, “He’s still pissed at me missing sessions then.”

“You know what he’s like,” Minho says, like it’s a valid excuse.

“Uh-huh,” Seungmin chews his bottom lip. “So why are we heading to the club? Have you seen sense and decided to sell up?”

“No,” Minho says. “We discussed this on Sunday.”

By ‘discussed', he means that he had spent forty minutes listening to Seungmin berate him and remind him just what a balls-up he’d made. According to Seungmin’s calculations, someone would soon be coming to collect the equivalent of two years worth of profits. That was the protection fee, plus their extortionate late payment fee, which had been growing even before Minho had signed the papers. Minho was, and still is, of the attitude ‘let them try’ much to Seungmin and Hyunjin’s annoyance.

Hyunjin, in response to Minho’s request for a security review and risk assessment, and upon learning that it wasn’t protected under the family name, had done a complete overhaul. He replaced about seventy percent of the original security with guys he knew and trusted. He’d installed new CCTV, upgraded the alarm systems, replaced the access doors and installed keypad security systems. He’d even upgraded the apartment doors with fireproof ones, and transformed the club office into a panic room with an auto-lock system. He’d achieved all that in the space of forty-eight hours. Whilst impressed that Hyunjin could pull all that off in a ridiculously short space of time, Minho is dreading the invoices.

“You haven’t grassed me up to dad yet?”

“‘Yet’, being the operative word,” Seungmin sighs. “You asked me not to, so I won’t. But I still think you’re taking a hell of a risk. And Hyunjin agrees with me on this and that should be an indicator of how messed up this is. The DLC is an albatross. You’re safer without it.”

“You know sailors consider it bad luck to kill albatrosses,” Minho says in his defence.

“You’re not a fucking sailor, Min!”

“No, but I am a Clowder, and I’m not letting the Parks run me out of the place.”

“You paid in cash under your own name, for a club south of the river, which is outside our territory,” Seungmin points out. “They don’t know it’s Clowder owned yet.”

“‘Yet’, being the operative word,” Minho chuckles.

“I don’t understand you,” Seungmin shakes his head. “You could be done with it if you publicise it as Clowder. It’s not even your debt for fuck’s sake.”

“Precisely,” Minho says. “Let them fuck around and find out.”

“You’re forgetting you won’t be there when they do fuck around,” Seungmin says. “Sam and the staff will be. The longer you drag this out, the more risk you’re putting them under.”

Now Minho sighs. Seungmin, the smartest of them all.

“You know what, you’re right,” Minho says. “I’ll speak to dad on Friday and get the deeds changed to Clowder.”

“Thank fuck,” Seungmin says. “Maybe Nikko managed to knock some sense into you after all.”

♤ ♡ ♢ ♧

Minho rings the buzzer. Waits. Kicks the metallic door three times, hard.

He and Seungmin are in the alley at the side of the club. Seungmin with his suit jacket pulled up over his head, and Minho getting weighed down by his soaked sweatshirt.

It’s just under a minute before the door clangs open outward. The sudden movement causes Seungmin to take a step back, and into a puddle, “For fuck’s–” he hisses, shaking his foot.

“Hello, sirs–”

“Yeah, welcome, pleasantries, all that,” Minho says, “How about just letting us in before we get any wetter?”

Sam steps aside and they enter the back stairwell that leads to the private apartments. Seungmin swears under his breath as they drip on the concrete floor.

Sam looks at them, presses his lips together.

“Don’t you dare fucking laugh,” Minho says, but he starts chuckling himself. “It’s fucking torrential out there.”

“Ah, but it’s good for the flowers,” Sam says, fully smiling now. “Can I get you towels? A change of clothes?”

“You think anything you have would fit either of us?” Minho asks mockingly. Sam is not a small guy. Even standing in front of them in a t-shirt, basketball shorts and foam sandals, he’s an intimidating figure. Before you throw in his tat-sleeved arms and calves.

“Maybe Seungmin,” Sam allows, “But I’m sure one of the girls might have something that could fit you.”

Seungmin barks out a laugh, which in turn makes Minho smile. Seungmin has a great laugh. Minho doesn’t hear it often.

“Can I fire him?”

“No, he’s indispensable now.”

Minho shakes Sam’s hand before he peels off his soaked hoodie and drops it over a radiator. Seungmin rids himself of his suit jacket. His shirt is near translucent from the rain and a mark on his shoulder blade visible through the fabric catches Minho’s attention. It’s black, circular, divided into four sections and contains intricate swirls that interlace each segment. Minho grabs him roughly, “Did you get a fucking tattoo?”

“Yes,” Seungmin sighs.

“When?”

“The day after you went into service.”

“You’ve had a tattoo all this time?”

“Yes,” Seungmin shrugs Minho off, turns to face him. “Problem?”

Minho blinks, “No. No problem, I’m just surprised that’s all. I didn’t think you’d be the type to…” his voice trails off as Seungmin’s eyebrows raise slowly, and Sam surreptitiously shakes his head. “What the fuck do I know? It looks cool.” Minho says, before asking, “What is it?”

Sam, standing slightly behind Seungmin, has his head tilted as he inspects it himself.

“If you must know, it’s the elements.”

“Ah, I see it now,” Sam says, “That’s cool. I’m not familiar with the artist.”

“My brother designed it, taking my suggestions,” Seungmin says, looking back at Minho. “I knew what I wanted and Jin made it better.”

Minho makes a note to have a conversation with Hyunjin about this later.

“Why the elements though?” Minho asks. This is a whole side of his brother he didn’t know about. He’s not entirely comfortable with the feeling that there are things about his little brother he doesn’t know. Things that he’s missed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Seungmin says, striding towards the club proper.

Minho jogs to catch up. Seungmin has freakishly long legs that move him great distances in only a few strides. “Go on, tell me.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Seungmin says.

“Tattoos are kind of personal,” Sam says quietly.

“Listen, jackass!” Minho snaps, “Just because I’m dressed like a fucking civvy today, don’t forget who you’re talking to.” Sam immediately raises his hands level with his shoulders, mocking surrender, biting down a grin. Minho lowers his voice, “I’m allowed to ask though right? Like, there isn’t a rule that I can’t ask?”

“You can ask, but he doesn’t have to tell you.”

Minho chews this over for a solid two seconds, “Seungmo, why the elements?”

“Fuck off Min,” Seungmin says, his knuckles whitening on his balled up suit jacket.

Minho sighs, turns to Sam, “Why did you get your tattoos?”

“A combination of inebriation, poor impulse control, vanity and enjoyment of pain, sir.”

Minho doesn’t think he’s joking.

They enter the main body of the club through an upgraded security door. In the daylight, with the main lights on, it looks like a warehouse with a raised bar. The walls and windows are painted black. There are black and red couches lining some of the walls and some tables and chairs strategically placed around the raised bar area and the podiums. The dance floor is a wide open space, polished to a shine from hundreds of dancing feet. There is rigging criss-crossing high above them holding lights and mirror balls. It’s all pretty ugly in the day, but it is all his.

Minho grins to himself as he crosses the dance floor and jogs up the steps to the bar area. Jin-Ae is perched on a stool. She’s wearing a fluffy pink jumper, pale blue chinos and pink pumps and carrying a black handbag gazing at the optics behind the bar. Her long black hair reaches down as far as her waist.

“Hello,” Minho says softly, pausing a good couple of metres from her.

Jin-Ae turns to face him, smiles, then immediately starts to cry.

“Oh!” Minho says, looking to Seungmin and then to Sam who look at each other in response.

Jin-Ae hops down from the stool and bows low, her long hair almost sweeping the floor. “Thank you for coming to meet me, sir. I know you must be busy and I am very grateful to have the opportunity to thank you in person. Thank you, a thousand times, thank you.”

“Oh, well, that’s, um, okay,” Minho says, to the back of her head. “It’s Jin-Ae, isn’t it?”

She looks up, sniffs. Nods. Sniffs once more. Her long black hair is styled to cover the worst of the bruising to the left side of her face. The white of her left still-swollen eye is blood-red. She looks even tinier than she had on Friday night and a hell of a lot younger. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“You really don’t have to–”

“But I do! If your friend hadn’t found me I–” she bites her lip, pulling her hands into the sleeves of her jumper. “I don’t know how to repay both of you for what you did.”

Minho catches a glimpse of Seungmin and Sam’s questioning looks. He gestures to a table in the corner. “Shall we grab a seat?”

Jin-Ae nods and follows Minho. Seungmin props himself on a stool at the bar, whilst Sam walks round behind it.

“Would you like a drink or…?”

“No, thank you, sir.”

“Minho.”

“No, thank you, Minho,” Jin-Ae smiles shyly.

They sit and look at each other for a couple of beats, before Minho says, “How did you find me?”

Jin-Ae reaches inside her handbag and pulls out neatly folded papers and holds them out to him. She’s wearing a thumb splint on her right hand.

Minho takes them, unfolds the top sheet and exhales. It’s his solicitors papers confirming the purchase of the DLC. Important documents of the kind you don’t want to lose, or leave in a coat pocket before giving it to a stranger.

“They were in the inside pocket,” Jin-Ae points at a suit bag hanging from the back of the bar stool next to Seungmin. “I bled on it a little so I took it to be cleaned. They were very good and they got it all out. It’s as good as new.”

Minho can’t help smiling. She’s a sweet thing, “You shouldn’t have worried about that. And thank you for bringing these back to me.”

“It’s the least I could do…after…”

Minho sets the papers on the table. “Are you okay?”

She smiles widely, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Still a little sore. But it would’ve been worse if your friend–”

“Jisung.”

“Jisung,” she smiles with fondness. Then it falls away completely. “He saved my life,” she says quietly, “I tried to fight them off…but…” she rubs the back of her tiny hand. Her knuckles are scabbed. The bruises yellow with a hint of green. Her thumb is clearly swollen beneath the splint. “If he didn’t appear when he did… if he didn’t intervene…” she sniffs, a single tear trickling down her cheek and dripping off her chin, staining the knee of her chinos. “He was the only one who stopped to help me.” She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jumper. “My dad blames me.”

Minho feels a heat burning in his chest, “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“If I hadn’t separated from my friends, if I was wearing something sensible–”

“That is utter bullshit,” Minho says, unable to maintain his temper. Out of his peripheral vision he sees Seungmin and Sam look in his direction and fights to maintain his cool, “it shouldn’t matter what you wear, or what time of day it is, or whether or not you are alone or with friends. They were the ones in the wrong.”

“But if–”

“No,” Minho says with finality, “They were the ones in the wrong. And if your dad has an issue with anything that I just said, you send him to me.”

Jin-Ae smiles a little at that. “You wouldn’t hurt him, would you?”

“Not if you didn’t want me to,” Minho says and Jin-Ae giggles. It’s a nice sound. A shy titter, that she covers with her hand. “You know, I could show you how to punch, if you’d like to do it yourself.”

She full-on laughs at that.

“Look, what happened to you, shouldn’t happen to anyone, and I am sorry that it did, but I am so happy that Jisung was there to prevent it from going further.”

Jin-Ae nods, “I’d like to see him. Jisung. To thank him in person.”

“Well, uh,” Minho clears his throat. “It’s not really…I mean… we’re not really… we actually only met that night.”

“Oh, I thought…you seemed close?” Jin-Ae says. “But you know how to contact him?”

“Well, I guess…”

Jin-Ae is reaching into her handbag again. She pulls out two square envelopes. One is pink and the other is green and immediately they remind Minho of Jisung’s hideous socks. She holds them out to Minho. “One for you and one for Jisung.”

“I can’t accept–”

“Please? I am really grateful for what you both did,” Jin-Ae says, “It’s not much. It’s nothing really. I made them myself.”

Reluctantly, Minho takes the envelopes.

“You’ll pass one to Jisung?”

“Yes,” Minho says.

“You promise?”

Minho inhales, “Yes. I promise.”

Jin-Ae’s smile finally reaches her eyes and Minho knows he can’t break this oath. “You know,” he says, “I was being serious about showing you how to punch? Did you break your thumb or–”

“Dislocated.”

Minho nods, “Show me how you make a fist.”

Tentatively, Jin-Ae raises her tiny left hand, her fingers wrapped around her thumb.

“See,” Minho nods and points, “That’s how you dislocated your thumb. You want your thumb to rest beneath your middle knuckles,” he demonstrates and she adjusts. Minho nods, “Now really clench those fingers together, that’s it,” he holds up his palm, “Now hit it.”

She blinks at him.

“It’s okay, go on.”

She does. Smacking straight into his palm.

“How did that feel?”

“Well, it didn’t hurt this time.”

Minho beams at her, “If you’d be interested in learning some defence moves, I’d be happy to recommend a place.”

Jin-Ae grins, and now, for the first time Minho can see the real Jin-Ae. The Jin-Ae from before. The Jin-Ae that fought. “I’d really like that.”

Half an hour passes. Minho has never been good at small talk, but he finds Jin-Ae easy to listen to. Now, she animatedly tells Minho about her college degree in computer engineering. Apparently, her father (who Minho dislikes immensely) would prefer her to become a doctor or a pharmacist, “…I prefer computers, they don’t have emotions.”

As if on queue, Seungmin comes over to their table with a couple of lemonades.

“Oh! Thank you,” Jin-Ae says, drinking deeply.

“Jin-Ae, this is my brother, Seungmin.”

“Hi,” Jin-Ae smiles up at him.

“Uh–huh-hi, I mean, hello,” Seungmin says, his cheeks going a similar shade to Jin-Ae’s jumper. He clears his throat, “Hi.”

“You said that,” Minho can’t help himself.

“Sorry for all this,” she gestures to the air around her, “I’m sure you’re both really busy and I’m taking up way too much of your time.”

“No, not at all,” Minho says, partly out of politeness, partly because she’s a sweet girl and partly because Seungmin looks a little warm.

“I should actually probably be going, I don’t want to miss the bus,” she stands, and Minho rises to his feet with her. She fumbles with her handbag, and Seungmin gently takes hold of it, holding it out for her.

"Thank you.”

Seungmin blinks.

“Do you live far?” Minho asks.

“Gangnam.”

“The weather is awful today, Seungmin can give you a lift, if you’d like?”

“Oh I couldn’t ask him to do that,” Jin-Ae says.

“Uh–” Seungmin looks at Minho a little helplessly.

“You wouldn’t mind, would you?” Minho says, nodding at Seungmin that he’s not actually requesting his honesty here.

Seungmin nods back, “Yeah, I mean no, I… yes. Not a problem. Sure.”

Minho squints at him. Jin-Ae smiles warmly at him. Seungmin blinks a few times before he spins on his heel and heads back to the bar for his suit jacket. His shirt has dried considerably, the tattoo barely visible through the fabric now.

Jin-Ae tucks a length of hair behind her ear, watching Seungmin walk away. Minho catches Sam’s knowing smile across the bar. Jin-Ae turns to Minho, “Thank you again.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Minho tells her. “Remember, if you go to the club and I’m not there, ask for Jae or Nikko and tell them I sent you.”

“Jae or Nikko. Got it. Thanks,” Jin-Ae inhales, then hugs Minho around his waist. “Thank you so much.”

Hesitantly, Minho pats her on the back. “Please stop thanking me.”

Jin-Ae lets him go, “I don’t think I’ll be able to do that,” she tells him, pointing at the envelopes on the table beside Minho’s untouched lemonade. “You will give that to Jisung?”

Minho nods.

“You promised,” Jin-Ae’s smile is a little teasing.

“I’ll make sure he gets it,” Minho says as Seungmin returns.

“And you’ll text me when you do?”

“You like to cross the t’s and dot i’s, don’t you?”

Jin-Ae smiles in response.

“I’ll text you.”

“Ready?” Seungmin says to Jin-Ae. She nods, smiles. Seungmin blinks. He looks at Minho, “See you in a bit?”

Minho nods and watches as Seungmin strides towards the foyer and the main exit. He holds the door open for Jin-Ae, who pauses on the threshold and waves a final goodbye before she disappears, Seungmin a couple of steps behind.

Sighing, Minho lifts the envelopes and the papers off the table and walks over to the bar, where Sam is leaning.

“Well that was interesting,” Sam says as Minho slides onto a stool. “I don’t think I’ve heard him speak that ineloquently before.”

“You and me both,” Minho chuckles, inspecting the small envelopes.

“She seems like a nice girl.”

“She is.”

Sam nods at the coloured envelopes, “You going to open them?”

“Only one is for me. The other is for–” Minho shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Pink is definitely your colour,” Sam grins.

Rolling his eyes, Minho sets the green envelope on the bar and peels open the pink envelope. Inside, wrapped in matching tissue paper, is a piece of red cord, threaded to resemble a four leaf clover with a tassel and attached to a small brass ring.

“That’s nice. A Korean knot,” Sam says, “They’re not easy to make. My grandmother used to make them to sell at flea markets to tourists and people with superstitions. I think this one represents protection or luck? I know red is used for protection and to ward off evil spirits… Sir? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Minho smiles, admiring the small token resting in the palm of his hand. It’s beautiful. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“It might not look like much–”

“No,” Minho interrupts. “It’s a lot.”

Sam nods. “So… who’s the other one for?”

“What did I say about talking to me like I’m a regular?”

“Force of habit when I'm on this side of the bar, sir,” Sam says, drumming his fingers, but he’s smiling. He’d sussed out Minho’s sense of humour a lot quicker than some of Minho’s closest friends had. Minho doesn’t have many friends outside of his family unit. Very few in fact. It’s kind of nice, just chatting.

Minho tucks his knot into his pocket, looks at Sam. Perhaps it’s because Sam knows him, that he says, “It's for Jisung.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyebrows rise swiftly and he grins, “Oh I see.”

Quickly, Minho explains the circumstances surrounding Jin-Ae, the six men that attacked her and Jisung coming to her rescue.

“I heard about that. Happened a couple of blocks from here? Jisung did all that? Six of them? Apparently four of them are still in hospital.” Sam looks at a spot above Minho’s head, nods, “Guess I underestimated him.”

Something in Minho’s chest swells. It’s pride. He’s proud of Jisung.

“She is lucky Jisung was there,” Sam continues, “She’s a tiny thing.”

“So lucky.”

“And, he was lucky you were there for him.”

“I guess,” Minho sighs, though he’s sure Jisung would've been fine without him. Minho hadn’t seen dirty street fighting quite like that. It was filthy. Kind of hot. “She wants me to pass this on to him. She made me promise.”

Sam shrugs, “So do it.”

Minho hesitates. “He said he’d call and he hasn’t.”

“Ah,” Sam sighs, scratches his forehead, leans on his elbows. “You know, he comes here every Friday night. You’re bound to bump into him now that you own the place.”

“Great,” Minho pushes his fingers through his still damp hair.

“Do you want him to call you?”

“Yeah, but–”

“I think you need to take the lead on this one, sir,” he stands to his full height, arms folded across his chest.

“I could leave it here and you or one of the others could pass it to him.”

“Or you could just text him…” he shrugs. “But if I were you, I’d try and keep your promise to that girl.”

Minho stares at Sam for a long moment. “Fine,” he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

LM: Hi. It’s Minho–

“You really think he needs to be reminded of your name?”

“Excuse me,” Minho laughs, pulling his phone out of Sam’s eyeline. “Privacy, please.”

LM: Hi. It's me. Any chance we can meet up? Just to talk.

“Done,” Minho says, setting the phone on the bar. It vibrates within thirty seconds signalling a new message.

Sam grins. Minho wants to slap him.

ACE: 2222555555633

Minho frowns, “What the fuck?” he shows Sam, who chuckles in response. Minho narrows his eyes at him. “You know what that is?”

“Maybe,” Sam says, he’s still smiling. “I guess you weren’t in the navy?”

“Army. I can’t swim,” he stares at the numbers on his screen.

“Neither can I,” Sam says, turning to grab his bottle of water. “Still spent eighteen months there.”

“You can’t swim and you chose the navy? Do you have a death wish or something?”

Sam drinks, shrugs, “Well, my naïve mind at the time figured that I’d rather serve on a boat with people that would be very keen to keep it afloat, than be in the army and receive no water training and wind up on a boat anyway. And they do provide life jackets.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Like I said, ‘naïve mind’. I spent six weeks in a life jacket. Slept in the damn thing too. I was glad when they stuck me back on land and behind a desk,” Sam grins, “Where I was taught how to use touch-pad phones for some transmissions.”

Minho stares at the numbers again. “Okay smartass. So what does it say?”

“C-A-L-L-M-E.”

dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics

TASTE M.List & Sypnosis

Chapter 1 - Parley

Chapter 2 - The DLC

Chapter 3 - Broken Compass

Chapter 4 - The Wolf & His Pack

Chapter 6 - Hoodie Season [wt]

#skz fic #Lee Minho #Han Jisung #Christopher Bahng #Bang Chan #Changbin #Seungmin #Hyunjin #Felix #Jeongin #Soonie #Stray Kids Fan Fiction #Mafia AU #Romeo x Romeo #stray kids fanfic #intriwrites #minsung fic

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ozziyo · 1 year ago

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Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.

#I'M BACK ON MY ROMEO AND JULIET BULLSHIT #good omens #good omens fanart #good omens 2 #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #crowley x aziraphale #digital art #my art #my fanart #romeo and juliet

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moxiepoxart · 30 days ago

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~As the world blurs, the colours get brighter~

#my art #tried something new #nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartifilla #ft lucy #ft natsu #natsu x lucy #ft romeo #ft cana #ft bisca #ft happy

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aayakashii · 4 months ago

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How would they react if you received a confession from some random student?

Warning: yandere behavior, possessiveness, A LOT of manipulation etc etc you know the drill

Gasp! You received a confession! A human student fell for you and confessed that they have had a huge crush on you ever since they saw you in the admission ceremony. They even invited you on a date! You're so excited! But... wait... how will your ghouls react to that...?

Fuji Kaito

Absolutely distraught.

He knew you first! He was supposed to be your first option!

He doesn't try to hide how desperately jealous he is.

Bombards you with self-deprecating messages that do more harm than good because it gets super annoying after a while.

Stops eating properly and pays even less attention to class, which makes him take even more remedial classes.

Asks you for your help immediately. He's so insistent on you tutoring him, that you end up saying yes just so he'll stop whining.

He happily creates a schedule that eats up most of your time, so you can only see him every single day. After all, he has such a hard time learning! You gotta help him a lot 🥺 and no, Luca isn't an option.

It's almost like he planned this... but nah, that's Kaito we're talking about. He wouldn't do this, right

Right?

Lucas Errant

He doesn't really understand what he's feeling at the moment

At first, he has a positive reaction – after all, you're an amazing person! It's only obvious you'd have admirers.

But then he finds himself thinking more and more about it.

Is that person capable of protecting you? Do they possess any type of skill in combat so they can fend off anomalies? Will they pay attention to your needs? Will they hold your hand when they walk you home? Will they actually walk you home when it's late??????

He starts worrying more and more about your safety until he can't brush off his concerns any longer.

He will not approve of this relationship. He's pretty sure that person isn't capable of providing you with all you need and deserve.

At least not like he can. He knows he can protect you. So... stay with him instead, will you?

Ishibashi Tohma

Hm... Really. So you have a little admirer. How cute.

Tohma couldn't be more obvious with the disdain and contempt towards the person who confessed to you.

He always manages to spot you wherever you are, just to steal you away and drag you with him to do something 'important'.

"Why yes, you must come with me to pick up this order of tea leaves I have put on. Of course I can't do this alone, you have to learn the ropes of my work since you're my dear helper."

You better not be thinking about going on dates. Tohma will ruin all your plans by summoning you to his side as soon as you step out of your dorm.

He will control your time and your schedule until you forget entirely about that silly little person who tried to take you away from him.

And when you hear the first whispers of awful rumors about that person, Tohma already has his hands on you, permanently dragging you away from them and their terrible influence.

As if he wasn't the one that spurred the gossip in Frostheim from the very beginning.

Kamurai Jin

No. Just no.

Don't even think about it.

You just aren't allowed any distractions from your work for him. You're his servant.

Actually, sratch that. You're his, period.

The fact that someone would be so bold to try and take you away from him is unbelievable.

And you're CONSIDERING their confession? Are you insane? What do they have to offer you? How can you even begin to think of them as more important than him?

You're crazy if you think he'll just let you go and date some peasant.

Jin WILL bribe the person who confessed to you to make them go away in a heartbeat.

He's convinced that everyone will fold when they're faced with money. Everyone but himself, because he already has it all.

All except you, apparently.

Jin will offer them a life changing amount of money just to keep them away from you.

Don't worry, he'll be right there to see your little heartbroken face when you're walk back to him after all that.

He'll take his sweet time picking up your pieces and putting you back together.

Mido Alan

Alan stuffs his hands inside his pockets and scowls as soon as you let him know about someone confessing to you.

Oh, he despises that idea.

At first, he wonders whether it is because he might see you as a little sibling or... some other platonic thing... that activates his protective instinct.

But then he sees you crack a little smile as you talk about actually going on dates, and the jealousy he feels is simply undeniable.

Alan may be stoic, but he's very well acquainted with his ugliest feelings.

And this jealousy is simply the most hideous thing.

Do you know that person? Do you think they truly care about you? No. They don't. At least not like him.

Alan doesn't say all that openly, but he hangs around you for longer and longer, like a guard dog. Arms crossed and scowling, ready to pounce at anyone crazy enough to invade his space.

And obviously, you're in his space. You're the only one allowed in it. The only one he wants attached at his hip.

He eventually wins by wearing down his competition. After all, no one is brave enough to poke this lion with a short stick.

You're just not worth them risking their lives like that...

Don't worry, Alan is right by your side to pet your little head and comfort you.

He'll always be by your side.

Haizono Sho

Well, look at you. Being popular and shit. Gotta be feeling good, huh?

Kinda upsetting that the one who likes you is a loser that definitely doesn't deserve you.

Who said that.

Sho immediately bans you from eating at his food truck.

If you're gonna play these dumb games, then he has his own cards to play, too.

Even if you have zero intention of making him jealous and genuinely just want to go on a cute date, he WILL see it as a challenge.

He would rather get hit by a car than see you taking some random ass dude to HIS food truck to eat HIS food during a date. You're supposed to eat his food only if you go on dates with HIM.

He's gonna make you choose between him and your stupid new guy as soon as you tell him about the confession.

Are you going to abandon him? Are you really going to choose some dude instead of a friend? Someone who needs your support and ideas? Someone who ACTUALLY cares about you and didn't just randomly appear out of nowhere?

There is a correct answer for his ultimatum, and you better choose wisely.

Kurosagi Leo

???????????

Some people do have awful taste, huh.

Cannot fathom why someone would ever fall for you.

You're plain and boring, just a stupid NPC. That person must be just as boring as you, if not worse.

He makes sure to tell you all of this so you know your place.

But then you decide to give that person a chance and begin to ignore his messages.

How fucking dare you answer him only in the end of the day. You're supposed to be at his beck and call. You're supposed to be by his side whenever he needs you, like a good NPC.

He gets antsy. He's bouncing his legs, biting his nails and feeling his stomach flip flop inside him.

Okay he GETS it. You can stop trying to make him jealous now, god. You're so fucking desperate for his attention, aren't you?

Just... answer his fucking texts for once, okay?

Otherwise, he's gonna have to handle that rando that's been glued to your side on his own terms, and you don't want that.

Don't make him do something both of you will regret <3

Sagara Haru

Of course someone would fall for you! Who wouldn't?

You're so sweet, strong, patient, helpful, comforting, and you always do your best to spend time with him so he feels less overworked and...

Oh.

If you have a s/o, this means you won't be able to help him and spend time by his side, huh...

...

That is a problem.

Haru needs your company. He needs to know your whereabouts and what you're doing. You won't leave him hanging behind on his own, right?

He knows that you care for the animals and you wouldn't abandon them, but what about him?

Will you really leave him behind?

Haru is busy with everything in Jabberwock, so it's not like he can neglect his job to follow you around, but... Maybe he can keep an eye on you through his little gps.

Whenever he sees you out and about, he'll shoot you the cutest, most heartwrenching message about how he the animals miss you.

It never fails.

After all, you're so sweet. He knows exactly how to tug on your heartstrings until you run back to him.

Otonashi Towa

No.

You're not going to date anyone.

Towa loves romance, yes, but only if it doesn't involve you with someone else.

You're his Dandelion! You're his. You're not going to leave him, ever. Why are you even thinking about someone else? You're so silly, Dandelion.

Towa doesn't try to be subtle. He will threaten the other person and kick them out of your life immediately.

If he needs to strike them down with a dozen lightnings, he will do it. Do not doubt him whatsoever.

Don't be sad, though. If you wanted to go on dates, you should have just said so!

He will take you to every pretty place he finds in Darkwick – cave systems, flower fields, dense woods, and anywhere else you feel like going!

As long as you go with him.

He's not letting anyone steal you from him, ever.

Shiranami Ren

Whines and whines and whines and whines.

He becomes actually insufferable.

"You're actually going to become one of those disgusting people that flaunt their relationship everywhere, aren't you?"

"Ren, I don't even know if I'll accept the date..."

You don't get it, though. He thought you were different. He thought you weren't like everyone else! But you got A CONFESSION?

EUGH

That's like the most normie thing in the whole world...

And who's gonna watch B-horror movies with him now? Who's gonna play his mobile games and do his dailies with him?

You're gonna be just like those assholes that forget their friends when they start dating, aren't you?

He knew you were just too good to be true. That's on him, though. He was stupid to believe you would stick around.

Wait, no, please don't go. Please don't get mad at him.

He just doesn't want you to spend your time with someone else... but also, he would rather die than straight up tell you that.

Maybe read between the lines of all his whiny ass messages and forget about that other guy, how about it? It's almost time for a raid anyway.

Hoshibami Taiga

Oh honey. I don't know why you think you can even leave Taiga's side for long enough to receive a whole confession.

Although, if someone is crazy enough to mess with TAIGA'S little kitten, they are very brave.

Taiga may let them shoot their shot just to amuse himself and see how the dumbass would try to woo you.

But if they got even a little bit closer, his gun would fire immediately.

It would either end in someone getting terribly traumatized and/or wounded, or in death.

Getting away is just not an option if you're Taiga's.

You're always in his reach. No reason to think about silly little scenarios like "receiving a confession".

Pffft. Don't be stupid.

Romeo Lucci

Are you fucking insane? Shut up and go fetch him a face mask.

Of course he's not letting you date anyone. You're his assistant. You dont have time for shit like that.

What do you mean you don't need permission? Oh that's RICH.

Romeo isn't very patient about this whole situation.

If you try to argue too much, he just pushes you into his secret room and then inside one of his cages until you understand your place.

He's never letting you just walk away and spend your precious time with some broke asshole. Your time is HIS. YOU are his. Don't get any funny ideas.

It doesn't matter if you get mad at him. He will keep you locked up until you're sweet and compliant again. Just the way you're supposed to be.

And if that doesn't work quickly enough, he can always order his men around and beat whoever tries to get too close to you.

No one fucking steals from Romeo. Much less what is the most valuable to him.

Shinjo Ritsu

Ritsu is incredibly confused once you bring up going on dates with someone who confessed to you.

Did you forget you are legally bound to him by the terms of your partnership?

You have no time to go on dates. During working hours you have to be fulfilling your part of the contract right beside him.

It's not his fault that there's so much work to do that you end up needing to work overtime...

Yes, he IS very against unpaid overtime, obviously.

But it's not like you're not getting anything from this! You'll have the best lawyer in Japan always ready to help you.

But you'll only have this rare privilege if you stop being foolish and forget about dating that silly student.

You have to focus. Focus on your partnership.

Focus on him.

Focus on Ritsu alone.

Kusanagi Haku

Oh, so you hesitate to accept his invitations, but you're quick to go on a date with some other random person?

Ouch. Yikes.

Immediately lets you know that the person a very nasty spirit posessing them.

But you'd be a bit silly if you believed what he says because Haku is going to blatantly lie.

If that's what it takes to keep you far from anyone trying to get their hands on you, you BET Haku will try to manipulate you.

"Exorcising them? Nah, can't do it. Too strong of a spirit, you know? Better just keep your distance ;)"

He's honestly shameless. Doesn't stop following you around for a second and always manages to barge into every conversation you have with a general student, even if it's not even the person who confessed to you.

Can't be too careful, you know? After all, you're so sweet, what if more people fall for you?

He hates competition, so it's best to just cull everyone that gets too close to you. Makes things a lot easier for him.

And you know, since you're so eager to go out on a date with someone, why don't you choose him for once?

It's not like he'll ever let you have another option besides himself after all.

Kagami Subaru

Oh, he's guilt tripping you right away. All those years of acting are SHOWING.

Have you watched a kabuki play? There are some SAD ones, you know.

And you best believe Subaru is going to look like you've just ripped his heart apart as soon as you tell him about the confession.

You're the only actual friend he has besides Lyca... Do you really want to leave him in the dust like that? All for some dates? He really thought he mattered more to you than that...

It doesn't matter how much you try to reassure him you won't abandon him, he'll only stop being gloomy once you tell him word for word that you are not going to date anyone else.

And as soon as you do that, it'll be like clouds letting the sun shine again. He'll smile and cling to you like a magnet, gently feeding you the softest daifuku.

All while subtly touching you and checking your memories for the face of whoever dared to confess to you.

His good relationship with Darkwick will definitely come in handy to keep them far away from you.

Kotodama Zenji

He is having such a hard time with this!

He is more than happy to know you're appreciated! You are such a wonderful person! His lovely little human!

However... he can't help but feel awful about it all too. What if you stop talking to him?

After all, besides you, only Haku and Subaru see him. He knows you wouldn't be able to talk to him if you had someone unrelated right next to you. Much less someone who isn't even a ghoul!

His late night visits become more frequent. He stands at the foot of your bed, looking at your sleeping figure, very conflicted.

Is he allowed to be a little selfish, even though he's a spirit?

Soon enough, you stop hearing from the person who confessed to you. It's not that big of a deal, but you ARE curious as to why they up and vanished.

You'll never know how they suddenly got prophetic nightmares about how they shouldn't date you, complete with some bloodied messages on their wall...

Mizuki Rui

He's absolutely distraught. Not only he cannot touch you, now he must be tortured by the sight of you touching someone else?

Even worse: someone else touching YOU?

His days just keep on getting worse.

Will you still please visit him at his bar then? You won't completely starve him of your company, right?

Maybe he should just touch this crush of yours.

Haha, just kidding! He wouldn't do that.

He will, however, hide in the darkness for as much as he needs until he's sure that he approves of that date of yours.

Spoiler: he will never approve of anyone that isn't him.

Rui will bombard you with messages until you understand that his jealousy will never subside unless you reject that person once and for all.

And maybe, for some peace, you should. Because Rui is nothing if not insistent.

From the corner of your eyes, you see the way he lurks in the shadows of every place you visit.

Give yourself a break and mend the shinigami's heart for once, please?

Edward Hart

Oh dear. Who's going to take care of him now 😔

You're heartless, you know. Wasting your finite human time with a pointless date, instead of helping an old man when he needs you... You wound him so...

Ed is the king of emotional blackmail. He will moan and groan on and on about how weak and alone he is (even though Rui does everything for him) and how cruel you are for not spending your days in his room, tending to all his whims.

It doesn't matter if Rui can help him with this malware-riddled website. He wants YOU to help him. His plain but pretty little thing.

Didn't you learn you must respect your elders, love?

Then go lay down on his bed with him, thread your fingers through his hair, and shush him when he's tired and in pain. You're his walking balm, dear.

Don't leave him hanging. That would be so rude of you.

Lyca Colt

No no no no no no no no

NO!!!!!!!!!

You're not gonna date anyone!! You're not going to hang out with anyone else, ever!!!

Lyca is another one that's not subtle.

He'll just cling to you 24/7 and growl at the person who confessed to you until they run away.

He'll NEVER let you spend a single minute longer with some boring human. You have to spend time with him and teach him more about... well, about everything! You're his caretaker, aren't you?

The fact that he used to protest every time someone called you his babysitter does not matter anymore!

He is going to stay by your side and chase everyone away. How dare they try to do those disgusting things with HIS human!

It's overwhelming how clingy and possessive he gets – even more than before.

Lyca won't let you breathe peacefully. He'll be clinging to your arm, your hand, your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can grab just to show everyone that you belong WITH HIM ALONE.

It's best if you just accept it. They do say it's hard to teach older dogs how to behave, don't they...

Isami Yuri

He didn't expect much from you, but to waste your time with meaningless endeavors... Disappointing!

You better never sleep then! Because he's not letting you off the hook! You're still spending more than half of your day in Mortkranken, under HIS watchful eye!

And if he sees you texting some random guy, well. He'll just have to snatch your phone away from you.

How dare you think of anything else besides your apprenticeship under him?! Him, Isami Yuri, the best doctor in Darkwick. You're so ungrateful!

Yuri will wring you dry. He's so merciless, it'll be honestly best if you just focus on him...

He wants your full attention and focus. If you go on... *retches* dates... your mind won't be into your work.

Stop this insanity, worm, and pay attention to him. Pay attention and praise him. Don't go praising some random, worthless person. They don't deserve it.

But Yuri does. Yuri deserves your praise.

Praise him.

Please.

And forget all about anyone else.

Kirisaki Jiro

Hm... will going on dates affect your health positively? Your mental health, maybe? Huh.

Jiro doesn't really understand what he feels about you spending time with someone else.

What he does know is that he likes having you around, as much as he can process how "liking something" feels.

He likes how you take care of him after he showers and how you worry about him, no matter how many times he tells you it's pointless. He likes your reactions and how you try to be helpful. He likes you.

If you spending time with someone else means he won't have you doing all this anymore, or at least not as much as he'd like, he can't say he approves it.

Jiro straight up tells you he doesn't want you to go on dates and why.

It'd be wise to listen to him. Otherwise, he'll try to get his fix of you by following you around.

Not sure you'd want the tallest and strongest man in Darkwick following you around like a shadow... but you do you.

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