Status: Closed
This round has closed. It remains open for fills, comments and remixes, but prompts are no longer accepted.
About
"Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time."
"How inconvenient to be made of desire."
"It's me, hi, I'm the problem its me."
Calling all readers, lovers of poetry and music, screen and stage. Quote collecters and lyric hoarders, unleash your archive. For this round, every prompt must contain a quote - you can combine them, add commentary, link to articles, do whatever. Steal from a literary classic, or copy WeVerse drama.
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[FILL] and they called off the circus
Major Tags: minor character death, guns (1) and knives (1)
Additional Tags: mentions of: alcohol, murder/death, and sexual content, criminal jun/agent chan
Permission to remix: please ask
***
junhui has never been told he is a patient person. he likes getting what he wants, when he wants, and is quick to make a face when he doesn't. so it's to be expected, really, when chan shows up two hours later than he thought, and junhui is sulking on his couch.
"you were supposed to be here forever ago," junhui says, swinging his feet around like a child, and almost knocking over a succulent. he is too long-limbed for the cramped space he's in, always has been. they can only do so much to accommodate his model-like stature in their studio apartment.
"no one believed me," chan says, taking off his coat. "i told them the answer to your riddle was at me and my boyfriend's apartment, and they told me to shut up and go check with the witnesses again." he's bitter, no longer the boastful rookie agent he was years ago. he's too used to being told to step back and watch the others do the work he was also trained for. he's accustomed to being second place to every other agent he knows.
"but here i am," junhui smiles. he stands, and chan bites his tongue at the familiar way junhui towers over him now, easily able to trap him in if he wished.
"here you are," he agrees, slipping off his shoes like he's arrived home on a regular wednesday night.
but if it was a regular wednesday night, junhui would be greeting him with a kiss, a new recipe, and an apron around his waist. instead, junhui stands in front of chan with a knife strapped to his side and a bounty the size of a building in gangnam on his head. but the kiss is still the same, slow and easy, a contrast to who junhui is as a person.
"you finally caught me. it just took you, what? four years?" junhui asks after the younger pulls away.
"it would've taken me less if you didn't decide to trick me," chan scoffs. he goes to their bedroom and junhui follows behind, trailing silently like a cat.
"i didn't trick you!" junhui insists. "i've always told you the truth, chan-ah."
"the truth would've been that you're a criminal," chan tells him. he sits at the edge of the bed and junhui settles beside him like it's second nature. like beside chan, there should always be junhui.
"do you really think that's what i am? a criminal?" junhui asks, softly. chan turns to face him, and junhui's gaze is heavy, suffocating as chan thinks of where he was taught to draw the line.
the black and white version is that criminals are people who have broken the law. and by that definition, junhui is a criminal, having stolen diamonds, lives, and more.
"yes," chan answers. "there's even a bounty on you now. one billion won. if i turn you in i could go to hawaii. or greece."
"that sounds lovely. you would love santorini," junhui comments, nodding. "do they want me dead or alive?"
chan doesn't answer at first. he stays silent, staring at the closet in front of them that contains too many clothes. it's mostly junhui's, some his, and a lot shared. he likes how junhui's hoodies fit him, just right around the shoulders but long at the sleeves.
"dead. they say you're too dangerous to keep alive," chan tells him.
junhui sighs and lays down on their bed. he's a wanted man yet he takes the leisure of fluffing up one of their pillows and resting his head on top of it.
"so, are you going to kill me?" junhui says.
chan blinks. in the office, he thought he would. he was furious at the time, having pieced together that the criminal named "moon" was actually his boyfriend of three years. but now, as he feels junhui's arms suddenly wrap around his shoulders, he hesitates.
"yes. you're a murderer." it's robotic, even to him. "the man you killed had a family."
"a lot of people have families," junhui says, right by his ear. "you have one. i had one. just because you have a family doesn't make you a good person, chan." junhui's hands crawl up chan's arms before reaching his neck. it's too easy how the older's palms cover the expanse of his skin.
"have you thought about killing me?" chan questions. junhui's hands are warm around his throat. the action would be almost comforting if he didn't know about the blood that stains them.
"i've seen it in dreams," junhui answers. "you find out. i confess. we fight. sometimes you win and sometimes i do. but lately, it's been me. so i guess yes, i have thought about it. fantasized about it, in fact."
"and how do you do it? in those dreams?" chan asks.
before junhui answers, chan feels his hands move from his throat down to his chest. they skim over his ribs like he's counting them one by one.
"with my hands," junhui responds. "it's almost always with my hands." chan doesn't even feel it when junhui takes his gun from him, wouldn't have even known if the weapon wasn't dangling in front of his eyes.
"is that why you sent the agency that riddle? because you knew i was the only one who would understand and find you here?" chan remains immobile in his spot for reasons he refuses to put a name to. right now, at least, he can still tell his boss he was held at gunpoint, act as if junhui wouldn't have let him go the second he walked in.
"do you think i'm going to kill you?" junhui asks back. "that i did all of this because i want you dead?"
chan is quiet, unable to look away as junhui's hands envelop his. when the older lifts his away, the gun is perfectly snug in chan's grasp.
"if you weren't an agent, i would've swept you away ages ago," junhui tells him. "we would have gone to greece together. watched the sunrise in oia, gotten drunk on ouzo. we would have gone dancing. you love dancing."
they had taken a salsa class together for three months during the first year of their relationship. junhui was good from the start, but chan caught up quickly. the elder had said he had always picked things up fast. now, chan wonders who else he has danced with, who else junhui has made promises to.
"what else would we do?"
"we would have taken a wine making class, seen the vineyards and the black sand beach before getting dinner with a view." junhui holds the muzzle of the gun between two of his fingers and angles it over chan's shoulder, right where chan knows junhui's head now rests.
"is that all?"
"no. when we would get back to our place, i would beg you to fuck me. the way i know you like, on my knees and promising to be good for you." there's a puff of air by chan's ear. his face feels impossibly hot. junhui is too close yet too far. "you have always made love to me so well."
chan laughs. "is that why you never killed me? because i'm a good fuck?"
junhui grabs him by the chin and smashes their mouths together. this time, junhui does not wait. his tongue is in chan's mouth and the desire to take is clear. he wants something, maybe everything. but chan does not know what else he has left to give him.
"think about it like this," junhui pants against his lips. "i want to kill you just as much as you want to kill me."
junhui's response clears up nothing. because while the gun sits in chan's hands, he knows he has no power. there is not a single bone in his body with the desire to pull the trigger, and his heart is beating too fast for a criminal who has taken too many of his years.
"kill me. take your money." it's a dare, a taunt, junhui's cocky way of showing off that he knows chan better than chan knows himself.
the gun falls from the younger's grasp and his limbs go pliant as junhui pulls him up the bed with him. he cages chan against the mattress, and chan does not need to think when kissing junhui back. junhui has always been a good kisser.
"do you love me?" chan groans, his hands on junhui's belt buckle. the corner of junhui's lips curl up and there is a softness that takes over his sharp features that reminds chan of their first date. coffee at the café by his office, junhui bought him a matcha cheesecake in the shape of a heart. it was cliché. painfully normal.
"i love you as much as you love me."
and that is all the confirmation chan needs.
-
"did you hear?"
"what?"
"the director was found dead this morning."
"what the fuck? do they know who did it?"
"people are suspecting moon. but i don't know. they said it was a two-person job and everyone in the agency knows moon works solo."
"yeah, that's true. did agent lee ever solve that riddle from the other night?"
"i don't know. i checked his desk and it was empty."
"empty?"
"yeah. none of his shit is there. all i could find was a postcard in his desk."
"a postcard?"
"yeah. from greece."