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Duyeop throws his head backwards in an exaggerated cackle that Jiyong swears he can almost hear over the thundering music of the club.
Jiyong stares his target down unblinking over the shoulder of the girl talking to him.
Not even acknowledging her as he memorizes how Duyeop is smiling bright, carefree and happy taking another shot of alcohol as if he hasn’t left a trail of blood and destruction in his wake.
He treasures the image; it only makes it easier to kill criminals after witnessing them like this in comparison to the way their unfortunate victims act.
Nervous, terrified, forever left looking back over their shoulders wondering if today is the day their perpetrator returns to finish the job.
If it’s up to Jiyong, Duyeop will not be leaving this club alive tonight.
He just needs to figure out how to get him alone.
The girl is still talking away, oblivious to the real reason he is entertaining her for the moment.
She leans into his orbit with a strong wave of perfume asking him to go with her and he does with little prompt, Duyeop isn’t leaving anytime soon as another round of bottles arrive at his table while Jiyong is dragged out.
To shake her off would cause a scene bringing unwanted attention with it, the one thing he does not need.
“Are you here for Duyeop?” She questions immediately when they come to a stop in the empty hall leading towards private rooms.
Maybe she isn’t as oblivious as he thought, he feigns ignorance anyways, “Who is that?”
“You’ve been staring at him the whole night.”
The chances of murdering Duyeop go down significantly, Jiyong can’t have someone telling the police he was seeking Duyeop out the same night he dies.
He flashes a disarming smile to play off his interest that she does not buy, instead she reveals to him a small square in a clear baggy before he can question what it is she places it on her tongue with a devilish smirk.
Then she goes up on the tips of her heeled toes and kisses him suddenly, the force of it startling him back against the club wall, mouth parting in surprise as he tries to tell her off she slips the square between his lips skillfully.
At a loss he kisses back, the taste of her all wrong, heavy with alcohol but he refuses to back down.
Another mistake, Jiyong feels close to throwing up when he finally backs away from her, her smile seems to melt from her face and bleed into the now overwhelmingly blinding lights that lead back to the dance floor.
20/20 vision starting to fail with each step he takes away from her, shoulder bumping into a random person on the way out he slurs an apology, the person says nothing allowing him to pass by without a word.
Not a trace of Duyeop is left behind, Jiyong blinks hard squinting across the club full of people dancing and drinking but can’t seem to find the criminal or his lackey anywhere.
Jiyong swears under his breath as he leans heavily on the wall at a loss over the dwindling control of his body, sweat building up underneath his shirt that now feels too tight on him, face flushing with warmth that deepens further as the drug effects kick into full gear.
He leans over hands on his knees when he feels arousal stirring in his gut.
The need for pleasure has never crept up on him like this before, he has never been one to give into carnal needs when the opportunity comes even when others would welcome him.
Jiyong grunts in displeasure trying to fight the darkness that seems to be calling him to go under.
The coolness of the probably disgusting wall against his forehead doing nothing to help as his lashes flutter closed traitorously.
He barely has the energy to flinch when someone takes a hold of his forearm, the large hand circles his wrist easily before tugging at him lightly to get his attention.
His name is being spoken, he tries harder to focus over the loud music that seems to be trying to split his head open.
“Jiyong, are you alright?”
Jiyong tenses up at the unknown voice, a man’s voice, so close to his ear he shivers in response.
“Let me help you,” The man speaks gently, not a trace of deceit to be found in his alluring voice.
“No.” Jiyong breathes out unsteadily.
What he needs is to find his friends; they couldn’t have gotten that far in his absence.
They can still call it an early night and disappear back to the academy Duyeop can unfortunately live another week.
“No.” He repeats once more with a nod.
The man titters quietly, clearly displeased at how easily Jiyong refuses to entertain him, but makes no move to leave him alone if anything he shuffles closer.
“Please, I can help you.”
‘There’s no need.’ Jiyong thinks and wills his lips to say the words aloud.
‘I’m fine, I don't need your help. I'm lying I want your help.'
What comes out of him is garbled nonsense with one clear word, “Help.”
“I will!” The man answers earnestly, the rush of energy behind it leaves Jiyong even more curious as to who his savior is.
Nobody has ever been so enthusiastic to help him before.
Unless there was a price involved.
He tries his hardest to force his body to turn, a fruitless attempt to face the person but instead Jiyong slides lower, legs pathetically unsteady beneath him.
A strong arm circles around his waist to help support him before he can collapse to the filthy club floor and against his better judgment Jiyong leans into the welcoming embrace.
Embarrassment brewing somewhere in the murky thoughts in the back of his mind when his cock gives a twitch of interest when the man addresses him by name again, now more intimately close a fresh blush runs hot across the back of his neck when lips brush along the shell of his ear.
“Trust me Jiyong, I only want to keep you safe…”
Jiyong stumbles a few times tucked against the man's side, blindly being led.
The man kindly refuses to let him fall when his knees do manage to buckle; he is held up and whispered encouragement that does nothing to help lessen the arousal stirring.
They finally come to a stop to Jiyong’s relief, head spinning from the effort to stay upright and unprepared for the way he is then manhandled down, not down on the seat to be left for dead as he well expected- to his surprise he lands right on top of the very person who took him.
The door shuts and a few moments later a car engine starts, the hum of it coming to life muffled in Jiyong’s ears.
The man speaks swift instructions to whoever is driving, the commanding tone makes him sound different than earlier, Jiyong is surprised to find he is becoming fond of the voice and stays quiet so he can focus on it in an effort to regain control of his senses.
Grounding himself on something other than his rigid sense of justice or the pain in his knuckles that comes from beating vermin who terrorize the streets with their undeserved freedom.
He feels almost in a trance listening when a palm lands on him astonishingly hot, fingers spread wide on the curve of Jiyong’s spine keeping him close, as if he could escape.
Jiyong should feel imprisoned in the overpowering grip but that hand moves up and down the length of his back pressing firmly with each stroke, it’s soothing rather than caging and he relaxes completely into the hold.
“Oh, Jiyong, my strong boy,” Is sighed into his hair, “We weren’t supposed to meet yet. I'm not in the right outfit for our first meeting.”
Jiyong comes alive at the odd words, fighting hard attempting to blink his eyes open again to memorize his captor, nails biting into the leather of the car seat that feels expensive under his fingertips squeezing so forcefully it hurts in an effort to stay awake.
The interior of the car is dark as it drives along the busy road smoothly, Jiyong barely has the strength to turn his head up but when he can manage the only view he’s rewarded with is a hint of a side profile exposing a well defined jawline before his head rolls back in exhaust.
The only confirmation from what little he saw is that the man is clearly older than him.
Wealth on display in the simple fact that Jiyong is laying on top of his mystery man, they’re not in a cheap taxi like he expected.
A stretch limo provides ample room and the man doesn’t seem to care much that Jiyong’s full weight is most definitely messing up his pristine suit.
No threat of immediate danger combined with the man now humming something nonsensical yet eerily familiar, the vibrations knock down the last of Jiyong’s defenses leaving him at ease.
Minutes pass in silence.
Jiyong can feel a pulse point thundering away along the length of his nose where his face is still buried in the unguarded neck, the force of it pumping strongly brings an unexpected comfort.
This man means him no harm and holds him tight as if he’s trying to protect Jiyong from some unseen forces.
His own heart is near beating out of his chest.
Head spinning with desire flaring high again as the man's scent envelopes him whole, Jiyong inhales deeply, lips parting with little hesitation to see if this man tastes as good as he smells.
He manages to latch his incisors on the clear strip of skin above the jacket collar pleasantly delighted when the man cries out beneath him.
Jiyong licks at the ring his teeth left behind with pride before leaving another right over the pulse, mouthing at the area with a moan of his own.
The exploration, new to him, is invigorating until the man puts a stop to it abruptly, hand that was lightly petting through the strands of Jiyong’s thick hair almost lovingly now tightening enough to pull him away.
“Don’t.” He’s warned gently, finger swiping over Jiyong’s full lips, chiding him as if he were a child.
Jiyong’s mouth curls into a frown as the finger subtly runs from the corner of his mouth down across his jaw leaving a trail of fire in its wake, desire clear in every swipe before it disappears back into his hair.
His body feels hot all over, he can't understand why this man who wanted to protect him so badly earlier is denying him what will help now.
Speaking is too much of a struggle, he can't form the words and say what he wants so Jiyong launches himself forward, his usual precise aim hindered by the drugs flooding his system.
He presses his lips to the other man’s clumsily hoping he’ll take the hint.
Not too bad for his second kiss Jiyong thinks hazily, though the man currently frozen under him might be thinking differently.
The hand twists in his locks, nails scraping on scalp painful enough to make him gasp in shock as the man kisses him back.
This taste - Jiyong feels hunger racing through his body as he’s kissed every nerve in his system comes to life, shameless as a whimper escapes him, hips thrusting forward of their own accord seeking friction to guide him to completion.
It wouldn’t take much at this point to finish him off, he could almost cry with relief as he’s indulged if not encouraged to rock on top of the others lap.
Spots build up behind his closed eyelids, the lack of oxygen gets him in the end and Jiyong loathes to break the kiss number… He can’t remember lost in the sensation of lust his mouth feels kissed raw, a stark contrast of where the lull of darkness begins pulling him away.
Hands grip his waist hard enough to leave bruises, stopping the progress that had been building up between them.
He’s left trembling when the older man draws back with reluctance and settles Jiyong lower, resting his head down his chest.
“Who are you?”
The last thing Jiyong remembers is lips pressed to his forehead, the gesture chaste but the possessive way he’s enveloped leaves him yearning for more.
Jiyong wakes the next morning in his childhood bedroom alone once more with an emptiness in his heart he can't explain.
Lips swollen and wanting with a business card in his hand.