Chapter Text
For the first time in his life, Minhyuk hesitates.
A moment of weakness.
A crack in his perfectly crafted armor.
It’s only a moment, but it’s a moment too long. Predators sense weakness, and like blood to a shark, Hyunwoo senses Minhyuk’s weakness, and knows that he can win.
No.
He knows that he has won.
Hyunwoo turns to Minhyuk, and any hint of affection that may have been there before is gone from his eyes.
Minhyuk eyes the knife that has fallen within his reach, but before he has the chance to pick it up Hyunwoo charges at him. He hits him with his full weight and Minhyuk feels the air being pushed out of his lungs as he hits the concrete once again.
They are back in the same situation where they were just mere minutes ago. But there is no kissing now, no sexual tension, no lust aside from the lust for blood.
Hyunwoo pins him down on the floor, a knee pressing hard on his injured leg and an elbow pushing down on his throat.
A moment.
A moment is all it takes for Hyunwoo to take him down.
A moment is all it takes for Hyunwoo to break his other leg, effectively removing his only chance for escape.
A moment is all it takes for the bones to snap under the pressure, and the pain vibrates through Minhyuk’s body, screaming, burning, before numbness washes over his body and clears his head.
A moment is all it takes.
Minhyuk feels his life slipping away from him, but he can’t seem to care much. Instead, he feels weak, and tired, and empty. Somewhere, far away in the back of his head, something, someone is screaming, screaming for him to fight, screaming for him to feel the pain, to feel, something, DO something, screaming, screaming, screaming.
So loud.
So annoying.
And then it stops.
A moment is all it takes for Minhyuk’s lungs to stop taking in air.
A moment is all it takes for Minhyuk’s heart to stop pumping blood around.
His vision blurs. He thinks he sees tears in Hyunwoo’s eyes, maybe. Or maybe it’s just his imagination. The last sparks of a dying mind. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.
He always thought he would go out heroic. Guns blazing, death and glory. Not like this. Not choked out, naked on a concrete floor in an empty warehouse. By the hands of someone he could have potentially liked.
He knows he should care.
But dead men don’t care all that much.
--
It’s Jooheon who finds him first. He has felt something is wrong, something is off. It is taking too long. He should have been out by now. Jooheon isn’t prone to worrying. He has never had any reason to.
Minhyuk is good at what he does. The best even, maybe (though Jooheon will never admit to that). Probably. He has never needed help. So he didn’t worry.
But he felt it. In his gut. So Jooheon sped out in front of the others. He finds the warehouse with ease. It’s the sensible place for this sort of thing. Abandoned, out of sight.
Hyunwoo is long gone. The weapons are gone, too. All that is left is Minhyuk, sprawled out naked in the middle of the concrete floor in a pool of blood that is not entirely his own. His limbs are broken, his throat is crushed, but there’s a smile on his face and he looks oddly… at peace.
Without words, Jooheon takes off his jacket and uses it to cover up Minhyuk’s private parts. His face is blank, impossible to read. Emotions rush over him, overwhelm him, but underneath it all he looks and feels remarkably calm. He brushes the hair from Minhyuk’s eyes and sits down next to his body.
“Don’t worry, brother. Your death will not go to waste. I will avenge you, a thousand times over.” He softly combs through Minhyuk’s blood-caked hair, smiling sadly. “I will make him regret ever touching you.”
Jooheon stands up, wiping his hands on his coat. The others arrive, assess the situation, take care of the body. Jooheon stands by, watching them zip his old partner-in-arms, his brother, his friend in a body bag, and he’s angry. No, not angry. Fuming.
--
It takes him three months to track down Son Hyunwoo. After the fight with Minhyuk he has gone back into hiding, and he’s not an easy man to find. But he finds him.
Armed to the teeth, backed by Changkyun and several other members of the organization Jooheon storms his hideout.
It’s not just a mission.
It’s vengeance.
Jooheon finds Hyunwoo unprepared, unarmed. It’s easy, too easy. When he drives the sword through his ribs, he expects to feel happy. But it feels bitter. Hyunwoo bleeds and bleeds and bleeds, but Jooheon doesn’t feel relieved.
Hyunwoo is dying, but Minhyuk is still dead.
“YOU BASTARD!” Jooheon yells out, kicking Hyunwoo down.
“YOU BASTARD,” he kicks, “YOU BASTARD,” he kicks and kicks and kicks, “YOU B—“ A hands pulls him back. Changkyun shakes his head.
“He’s dead, hyung.”
Hyunwoo is dead.
Minhyuk is dead.
Everyone, no, everything is dead.
Jooheon doesn’t look back when he walks away.
After all, there is nothing to look back to.