Chapter Text
Look, Minho was wasn't proud of what he did for a living.
He didn't take pride in his work a big lie, and he definitely didn't enjoy it an even bigger lie, but he couldn't deny there was something satisfying about having powerful men at his mercy.
He liked it when they begged, sometimes they even cried. That was his favourite part, the flash of realization when they understood that he had been in control the entire time. It was beautiful to see. Minho loved the fact that it had been him who’d brought these powerful terrible men to their knees and reduced them to nothing more than sniveling, pathetic creatures.
Minho had been begging for mercy his entire life, it was time it was someone's turn to beg him. He never heeded their wishes though, the only thing he gifted them was the sweet relief of death.
There was an art to murder, and Minho had honed the craft exquisitely. With his prey, he made pretty pictures to send down to him, down into the deep, unawakening slumber of death. Death was unforgiving, it took the lives of who it pleased, and as its servant, Minho reaped devoured their souls. Their fear was cloying on his tongue, but he savoured the flavour appreciatively.
He knew the taste of death intimately, had been held and caressed by it like a lover. Death had welcomed him into its cold embrace and in pension for departing him, it had clawed out his heart with its skeletal hands.
Minho pressed a hand to his chest, right over his still, hollow heart. He was grateful. His heart had only caused him pain and anguish and suffering that no human being could endure. In time the hole healed, the wound no longer raw and bloody, but smooth and clear. Minho had resented it at first, but now he was accepting. Death had done him a favour. After all, one couldn’t be the most notorious assassin in the world and still have a heart, at least a working one.
He hadn’t chosen this life don’t lie you love it, but this life had chosen him. It had claimed him, body and soul, and devoured him until there was nothing left but a husk of a human being you’re barely even that. A husk whose only purpose was to kill. And he was good at it too. The best of the best.
The Reaper was what they called him, the Reaper of Souls. He had been given the title because of his tendency to leave his victims looking like they had their very life source sucked out of their body they look just like you, leaving them still and unmoving for the rest of eternity. And what made him so frightening was that his identity was a secret. The Reaper could be anyone, and that was terrifying.
Minho took great pleasure in being the cause of that absolute terror. He was a shadow that loomed over the underground world, waiting to swallow up any unsuspecting criminals. Most need not worry though, because unless someone pissed him off, he only went after the bad guys how original. Strictly by contact of course, so the definition sometimes varied.
One of his most recent murders was when he disguised himself as a human trafficking victim in order to have access to the leader of the ring. Minho had enjoyed seeing the light leave his eyes as he strangled him to death with barbed wire, much like the man had done with his victims and had tried to do to Minho. The memory still made him smile.
When someone wanted another person dead, and fast, they came to the Reaper. The price was high, but the execution was flawless such a braggart. Every three months he would stop by a new location, because that was the average time it took to complete a job, and wait to see if any hits had been requested for the Reaper. Sometimes he even went dressed as a woman; it was important to remain unpredictable and undetectable.
He was never there for more than five minutes, but he would wander around the location afterward to see if he was being tailed. His contacts were trustworthy, but he needed to know if he had been found out.
Today, he had gone to a market in Andong, picked up the envelope meant for him, spent longer than he would have liked looking at antique china, and then took the bus to three separate locations before getting off, hopping onto another bus, and then walking to an alleyway near his third, secondary apartment.
Minho held the piece of paper between his gloved fingertips. It was clean he had checked, but he didn’t want to take any chances. So what if he was a little bit a lot paranoid? There were plenty of people who would pay billions of won to see him dead. One could never be too careful, especially in this business.
The person who had written the note was most likely left-handed, based on the direction of the sharp strokes and where the pen had lifted from the paper. Interesting. The handwriting was also surprisingly feminine, but that just might be a coincidence. A vengeful lover perhaps? He gazed down at the name written on the paper in elegant cursive.
Hwang Hyunjin.
Minho knew who he was, everyone did if you didn’t you were a fool. His life was worth over 1 billion won I would have though it would be higher. Whoever had put out the hit desperately wanted this man dead. The amount was almost as high as several of the hits on Minho right now. He smirked. They had come to the right killer than.
Hwang Hyunjin wasn’t just anybody, and clearly they wanted a professional to do the job. He fished a lighter out of his jacket and turned it over so that the metal caught the fading light of the sun. It had been a gift from one of his first successful pickpocketing ventures. His thumb rubbed over the initials engraved into the back, a practiced motion he had done countless times.
Minho held the lighter to the corner of the note and watched it be set alight. The flames swallowed the paper and ash fluttered to the ground. Minho scattered the remains around with his boot before making his way down the alleyway and out into the open street, his footsteps silent on the cobblestone.
He had a soul to Reap.
Hyunjin was bored out of his mind. He was so bored he wanted to shoot someone. Or, at least he had been tempted to, before he caught sight of him.
These events were dreadfully dull and unfortunately, he had to attend them. Chan always lectured him when he complained about not wanting to go and play nice with spoiled brats flaunting daddy’s money – all the while ignoring that he was one of those brats – saying that since he was the face of the company, it was vital that he was in attendance. Hyunjin was always slightly, or perhaps maybe a lot, annoyed when Chan turned out to be right.
Except for today. Today, he was glad he had, for once, listened to Chan and had come to the party Baekhyun was hosting.
He had arrived fashionably late, as always, and waltzed through the door in style. He looked better than anyone here, he knew it and they all knew it as well. It was always nice to be reassured that you were far more superior than those around you.
Hyunjin had been greeted by Baekhyun minutes after he had walked in, the other wearing a suit that probably cost more than the average worker earned in a lifetime. Baekhyun’s smile was the perfect picture of welcomeness, but his eyes were shards of bloodstained ice as he eyed Hyunjin with barely concealed contempt.
He dismissed the woman hanging off his arm without a backward glance and faced Baekhyun with equally cold eyes, ones which could chill most men’s blood within their veins. Unfortunately, Baekhyun wasn’t most men.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” the snake said, his grin shifting into something more sinister. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Alone. Out in public.”
Hyunjin smiled pleasantly back at him, but underneath were razorblades sharp enough to cut through to bone. “Hello, Baekhyun,” he said, forgoing honorifics with poisonous delight. He eyed the man up and down contemplatively.
“I would have thought you’d be all over the… guests at your party,” he said, taking a stab at Baekhuyn’s spending habits. It wasn’t exactly a secret that the other made frequent trips to popular gentlemen’s clubs down in the shady areas of town, where the prostitutes would let you do anything to them. Still, it was satisfying to see the arrogant look melt off of the other’s face. Unfortunately, he regained it quickly.
“Oh, don’t be mistaken, I have my new plaything here with me today. He loves to meet new people; he’s very sociable.”
“Of course.” Hyunjin wanted to drive the barrel of his gun through his head. He hated this part of socializing; the forced pleasantries that would always inevitably end with him threatening the other party. Hyunjin much preferred action over flowery speech, that was Chan’s area of expertise. He didn’t see why they couldn’t just fast forward through this garbage of a conversation. After all, he was here for a reason.
Hyunjin took a step closer and leaned forward, relishing the fact that he was several inches taller than the other. To his credit, Baekhyun didn’t move backwards, but he did shift uncomfortably ever so slightly. The sight made Hyunjin smirk.
“I wanted to… discuss something with you, Baekhyun. You were short last week with your supply. Chan wasn't happy, and you know what happens when he’s not satisfied, now don't you?”
The other made a move to speak but Hyunjin interrupted him with sickening glee. Oh, how he loved to be the one with the upperhand. “You see, I want to know what prevented you from providing what we ask of you. You've always been perfectly able to meet our demands, I don't see why this time was any different.”
Baekhyun raised an eyebrow at Hyunjin’s condescending tone as he worked his jaw back and forth with subtle force. “If you had decided to listen to me instead of interrupting like a petulant child, you would have known that I had already resolved the issue with Bang Chan himself. However, judging by your reaction, I assume that he did not receive the message I sent him.”
In an instant, the tables had been flipped and now Hyunjin looked like an uninformed idiot. He fumed as he fought the urge to ball his hands into fists. Hyunjin wasn’t good at word games or mind games or whatever games the other like to play, and unfortunately, Baekhyun excelled in them.
“He did not,” Hyunjin was forced to admit through gritted teeth, not even knowing if it was the truth. Damn it, what was Chan playing at?
“Really?” Baekhyun was calm and collected, the exact opposite of how Hyunjin felt. “Well, I’ll certainly have to remedy that. I wouldn’t want to… upset Bang Chan, now wouldn’t I?”
Now Hyunjin was the one being treated like a child. He wanted to say something but he knew that if he pointed it out it would only make him seem even more like a child compared to his senior, so he could only grin and bear it.
“Do you perhaps have a pen that I could borrow? It seems as though I suddenly have the need to pen a letter.”
“I’m not some errand boy.” Hyunjin snapped back.
“Aren’t you?”
Hyunjin’s hand gripped the handle of his gun tightly and he only just refrained from pulling it out and pressing the trigger. His wish of wanting to shoot someone might come true after all. “I’d be careful with your words,” Hyunjin snarled, losing any pretense of civility he had left, “We both know what will happen if you don’t watch your tongue.”
For the first time during their conversation, a glimpse of true fear flashed through Baekhun’s eyes, but it vanished too quickly for Hyunjin to feel any sort of satisfaction from it.
“Now, I believe that you needed—”
“Hyung!”
Hyunjin was interrupted as a flash of purple and lace whirled past him and came to a stop beside Baekhyun, one hand immediately winding to grasp onto the other’s arm. Hyunjin turned to look at the person who had so rudely cut him off, and blinked in slight surprise. He had lavender hair and was clothed in a shimmering white top that was slightly too large on him, and tight black pants. He was soft and blushing and oh so pretty. Hyunjin had to know who he was.
Baekhyun let out an irritated sigh, but his face was soft as he considered the boy next to him. “Baby, I’m busy right now. Can’t you see I’m talking with a client?” Hyunjin’s mouth tightened at the corners. He had certainly recovered from the intimidation now hadn’t he?
The boy flushed slightly as he murmured an apology under his breath, before lifting his head to look at Hyunjin from underneath his eyelashes. His eyes glittered as he held his gaze. Hyunjin was impressed, there weren't many beings which could hold his stare for long. A rush of something hot and electric ran through his body.
Then, the pretty boy looked away and turned to peer at Baekhyun instead. Hyunjin immediately wanted those enchanting eyes back on him again. His hand twitched slightly as though to move forward before thinking better of it.
“Now who is this angelic creature?” Hyunjin knew beauty when he saw it, he appreciated it every time he looked in the mirror.
Baekhyun laughed at this, a carefully polished sound that grated on Hyunjin’s ears. He was evidently delighted that he possessed something that Hyunjin was attracted to, and was determined to flaunt it. He wrapped an arm around the other’s waist and looked as though he was trying to suppress a smirk as he looked at Hyunjin.
“Baby, why don’t you introduce yourself?”
The sweet thing blinked slowly, flashing those beautiful eyes. He seemed confused, if somewhat embarrassed, that he was being asked to talk. Hyunjin supposed that he was used to being ignored, not expecting that he was going to be addressed directly. Looking at him now, Hyunjin didn’t see how anyone could ignore the precious thing in front of him.
“I’m Haneul.” He had a voice lower than expected, with an airy rasp to it. His accent was one Hyunjin couldn’t quite place; a foreign sound that made his words crisp and his vowels sharp. It was quite charming.
Haneul. Heaven. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy.
“Hwang Hyunjin,” Hyunjin said. He offered his hand for the other to shake, and he did so with slight timidness. Poor thing. He hoped his smile wasn’t too sharp. “How do you do.”
Haneul giggled at this. The sound was thin and light and reminded Hyunjin oddly of the chime of a bell when it was struck. It also sounded carefully fake and practiced. He wondered how long Haneul had spent in front of a mirror perfecting his laugh for his clients.
“I’m well, thank you for asking,” the boy answered, a pretty flush on his face.
Hyunjin eyed him up and down with a smirk. “I want one. No, I want this one. Where’d you find him?”
“He’s mine.” Baekhyun’s arm around Haneul tightened, painfully, judging by the slight wince the boy gave. Hyunjin’s jaw hardened and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in distaste.
“I don’t see a collar. You know how I love to show off my toys, let everyone know they’re mine.” Hyunjin said this last part to Haneul, whose face now looked to be as hot as the sun. Oh, he really was precious, wasn’t he? He cooed internally at him. He would make such a pretty pet.
Baekhyun bristled at this. “Go find your own whore. Besides, you were just leaving weren’t you baby? I know you wanted to see your friend.” He made a shooing motion towards Haneul like he was a small child the man wanted to get rid of. “I'm not paying you to bat your eyelashes at other men when I'm the one who writes the cheques.”
In the blink of an eye, Baekhyun’s attitude toward Haneul had changed in tune with his emotions. Tch, mood swings. Hyunjin sucked on his teeth to stop himself from smiling; at least that was one thing he count on about the other.
“Now, just a minute,” Hyunjin said as his hand wound around Haneul’s wrist as he made a move to leave, “I’m not done talking with this beautiful thing here.”
Haneul’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between Hyunjin and Baekhyun with a mix of confusion and fear plastered on his face.
“Do you not have perfectly functioning ears, Hwang Hyunjin?” Baekhyun asked snidely, a rather nasty look on his face. “Or did you choose to ignore what I said?”
“The second one,” Hyunjin answered cheerfully, eager to get on the man’s neves. It was his speciality.
“I see,” said Baekhyun stiffly, shrugging back his shoulders, “Well, I won’t repeat myself again. I thought we had something to discuss. I’m sure that you wouldn’t want it to end up in the wrong places by way of innocent and unsuspecting ears.” He gave a subtle inclination toward Haneul.
“You’ve gotten soft,” Hyunjin said, ignoring this statement as he baited him even further. “Caring about a whore? That’s not like you at all. Pity.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said—”
“You said?” Baekhyun interrupted with deadly grace, and Hyunjin was abruptly reminded of why Chan always made sure to keep such a close eye on him. The other man was powerful and respected in his own right, and he had connections. Lots of them.
At the thought of what Chan would do to him if Hyunjin lost him Baekhyun and all his connections, Hyunjin reined himself in. He was already tip-toeing a thin enough line as it was with his previous actions, he couldn't afford for that line to be cut from underneath him.
At the sight of Hjuinjin visibly biting his tongue to stop himself from speaking, Baekhyun smirked. God, he loved to smirk didn’t he? Dick.
“Now, you listen to me. I hope your ears are fully paying attention because I will not hesitate to—what is it?”
In the middle of Baekhyun’s little speech, a man had come to a stop at his side and was unsubtly trying to get his attention. With a sigh, the other turned to him and gestured for him to speak. Baekhyun looked supremely irritated as the man whispered in his ear, no doubt informing him of some matter that needed to be resolved.
“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin purred, “I’ll take good care of your plaything for you.”
Baekhyun only gave him an unpleasant glance at that, but the issue must’ve been urgent because he left without another word. Hyunjin felt satisfaction bubble up inside of him at the sight of his retreating back. It was irrational but he couldn’t help but feel like he had won this fight, even though it was realistically more of a draw.
At the sound of a slight cough, Hyunjin looked away from the no longer visible Baekhyun and to his side where he saw Haneul standing there with an air of awkwardness about him. He realized that his hand was still clutching Haneul’s wrist but instead of letting go he only pulled him closer.
“I have you all to myself now.”
The other smiled at him tentatively, and Hyunjin understood his hesitation. After all, he had been practically ditched by the man who had invited him to the party, and now he was left alone with a stranger. Well, not alone. They were in a crowded ballroom afterall, and Hyunjin could see several others too nosy for their own good eyeing their joined hands. He smiled back at his companion, something sharp hidden within rows of perfect teeth.
“Let’s dance,” Hyunjin suggested, not waiting for an answer as he twirled Haneul onto the dancefloor.
A soft song was playing in the background and Hyunjin found himself humming along softly. His body found the rhythm as easy as breathing, and surprisingly, Haneul adjusted accordingly. He didn’t seem like the type to feel the beat, but Hyunjin supposed his job made him sensitive to music.
Haneul tolerated the silence between them for a few moments before it apparently grew to much for him. “So, what exactly is it that you want from me?”
Hyunjin laughed at that, feeling ridiculously delighted by the fact that Haneul didn’t beat around the bush and was so direct in his questioning.
Bold.
He liked that.
“Can I not just enjoy your sweet company?” Hyunjin teased, shocking even himself with how playful he was being.
“Nothing about me is sweet.”
He doubted that.
“Tell me how you met Baekhyun,” Hyunjin demanded instead. “You must’ve been something for him to invite you to one of these.” He gestured around them with a wide swept arm.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Haneul teased coyly, and Hyunjin found himself glancing down at his lips. They were shiny with gloss, pink and inviting.
“Why don’t I persuade you?”
Haneul giggled again just like before and Hyunjin had the sudden urge to make him laugh for real, to find out what he really sounded like when he was filled with so much joy he couldn't suppress it. He blinked in surprise. Now he was the one getting soft over an escort.
He shrugged the thought off. It had been too long since he had gotten laid, that was all.
Hyunjin ran a hand through Haneul’s hair as the other one settled on his waist. The strands were softer than he thought they would be, and silky too. As he did so, two hands came to rest on top of his shoulders, fingers digging into the material of his suit.
Hanuel looked up at him and Hyunjin felt his breath catch slightly in his throat. Yes, he could see why Baekhyun would pay countless amounts of money just to have a few moments of Hanuel's undivided attention. He really did have the most beautiful eyes.
Hyunjin’s head felt slightly fuzzy. The scent of Hanuel’s perfume was intoxicating. The way he was looking at him was addicting. Hyunjin swallowed thickly. Had the room somehow gotten hotter? He wanted to tug at the collar of his shirt but he knew that would only draw attention to his rising body temperature.
Haneul smiled questioningly at him – no doubt at whatever look was on his face – though it soon turned into something more sensual. “Do you maybe want to go to a more… private setting?”
God, yes.
The two of them wandered down the hall until Hyunjin found an empty room that he deemed suitable for their advances. Even with the change of scenery, he still found himself sweating slightly. Did Baekhyun not pay for air conditioning?
The room was quiet with lighting that was soft and dim, and with the door closed, the atmosphere became thick and heavy.
Hyunjin swayed on the spot with Haneul in his arms as he tilted his head and leaned in. He breathed in the scent of his skin as his nose brushed along Haneul’s cheek. His lips traced the path once more until they finally reached the soft, petal-like ones of his partner below.
“I thought you didn’t kiss and tell,” Hyunjin murmured against his lips, and felt Haneul smirk against him as he pulled away slightly.
“I might make some exceptions,” whispered Haneul, and then both of them were leaning in once more.
And then—
BOOM.
The ground shook under Hyunjin’s feet and he let go of Haneul to steady his balance. Another smaller boom echoed somewhere in the building and that was when the screaming started. Shock rushed through his body as his brain struggled to comprehend what was happening.
Once his feet were firmly planted on the ground he straightened up to see if Haneul was alright. But there was no one there.
In a panic, Hyunjin spun around, looking for Haneul. He glanced around he room but it was vacant except for himself. He didn't see where Haneul could have gone in such a short amount of time, especially with panic no doubt clouding his senses.
Hyunjin raced down the hallway, unable to help himself as he ran toward the direction of the chaos. His mind was functioning enough that he was able to understand that Baekhyun’s house had just been bombed, but what he didn’t understand was how that was possible.
People like Baekhyun were bound to have numerous security measures that would prevent something like this from occurring. A sense of dread filled him as he reached the sight of the destruction; the ballroom where Hyunjin had been only moments ago. He could have been caught up in the explosion if he had not left with Haneul.
Haneul.
Where had he gone? Hyunjin searched for him, stepping over bodies and rubble alike as the sound of sires permeated the dust filled air. He coughed as he inhaled the smell of dirt and death and blood. Disgusting. His heart sank slightly when he realized that his search was futile. He would never find him in this madness.
The beautiful boy was gone, no trace of him left as though he had never existed. Hyunjin caught his breath as adrenaline rushed through him. God, he was going to murder Chan.
A steady stream of curses left Minho’s lips as he hurried away from the scene of the bombing. A sharp pain made itself known in his left knee but he ignored it, a consequence of a badly misjudged jump from a window three stories high.
Minho had let the mark see his face and the mark was still alive. He cursed again. Minho had failed. He had never failed an assignment before, not even when he was 10 and just starting out in the business. This was bad you think? This was really, really bad.
The only consolation was that they hadn't spent more than 15 minutes together, and he had altered his appearance and voice enough that he didn’t look or sound like himself. He resolved to dye his hair as soon as possible; lavender was not an inconspicuous colour. It was pretty though, and Minho liked it, even though it made his hair look like it should be a flavour of ice cream.
He had wanted to stand out. Hwang Hyunjin liked pretty, unique things and Minho had wanted to be different from all the other escorts who would surely be vying for his attention. He had wanted needed to capture his devoted attention. And he had gotten it.
The fact that Hwang Hyunjin was the most handsome man Minho had ever seen had perhaps motivated him slightly as well. He might’ve even given him a little something extra you totally would have sucked his dick before kissing him and slitting his throat for good measure.
Minho sighed in irritation. Now he had to find another way to gain access to his target. Hwang Hyunjin was a private man, someone who valued his personal life which meant he wouldn’t be out in public very often.
That meant several more weeks of planning and organizing, more paperwork ugh, more money spent on hair and makeup and clothes, and less time to spend lazing on the couch watching dramas you do love drama. He sighed again.
At least he had tracked down the person who had planted the bombs and set them off right as he was going to send Hwang Hyunjin’s soul down into the eternal dissolution of death. He had recognized him at the party, a bomber who specialized in close-range attacks. It meant he would stick around for the aftermath because he liked to watch the chaos he created.
Minho had been willing to let him off with a warning when he had spotted him, but then he had destroyed Minho’s chances of receiving 1 billion won within the next night. And to think he had been looking forward to a vacation soon.
The bomber what was his name again? lay curled up in a ball on the ground, groaning in pain. Minho kicked him in the gut to shut him up before he clutched the neck of his jacket to haul him to his feet and drag him down the street into a darkened alleyway corner.
He had immobilized him instantly with a sharp blow to the jaw with the back of his hand and a finger pressed down on the parotid lymph node. He had tried to run as soon as he had seen Minho coming, perhaps sensing that his death was imminent. How foolish of him. No one escaped the Reaper.
He had spent 3 weeks working at Obsession; a popular strip club that Byun Baekhun frequently enjoyed, had his ass groped more times than he could count, given several lap dances that probably weren’t as good as he had made them seem, and cozied up to slimy businessmen who were there to cheat on their wives, all for nothing! It was ridiculous. Anger blazed a fiery path through his body.
His hand fingered the handle of the weapon concealed within his sleeve before sliding it out cautiously do it. Do it. Minho stuck the knife he had been planning to use on Hwang Hyunjin into the heart of the man who had unknowingly kept him alive. It was messier than most of his kills but he knew where to cut to minimize the amount of damage.
Still, blood poured out of the sliced veins and arteries, the puncture spurting a mass of red after Minho pulled the knife out. He wiped it on the pant legs of the body at his feet, careful to avoid the fast spreading liquid, before slipping it into an obscured compartment in his boot.
It was a cowardly death and you’re the one who gave it to him but Minho couldn’t find it within himself to care. The stench of murder was thick in the air and Minho breathed it in deeply. It no longer made him feel sick, in fact, the scent was almost comforting in a way. It reminded Minho that he was the apex predator in these streets, the monster whom the other monsters feared.
The thought made him smile. It quickly disappeared once he remembered what the bomber had said, or rather not said, to him once he had caught up with him. He hadn’t been willing to talk and Minho hadn’t been in the mood to persuade him.
And another thing, Byun Baekhun could potentially become a problem if left untreated, he had grown fond of the escort, too fond in fact. Loose ends had to be tied up. Well, naive little Haneul would have to die soon, preferably in a fire where all of his dna could be burnt away unassumingly.
Minho frowned slightly, he had liked that persona despite all the fondling he had endured. It had been nice to play with a mask who was seemingly innocent and oblivious to the world around him and the people within it.
With a sigh, Minho bent down and grabbed onto the ankles of the figure beneath him. God, he hated dead weight. Don’t we all. He was in for a long night.
The first thing Minho did after dumping the body was go to the store and buy some bleach. He needed it quickly, and not just for his hair.