Chapter Text
The Devil’s Deal was always popular on the weekends, filled to the brim with too young faces and even faker IDs. Money flowed into glasses, drinks in a never-ending loop from the bar to the tables. It was the perfect place to keep things hidden in the dead of night, where the only witnesses to revelry were blurry eyes and wandering hands.
At 16, Baekjin was enjoying the spoils of his hard work. Focusing on studies along with balancing his booming criminal empire was sometimes too much for even him to handle (not that he would admit that). There was weakness to be found in that cold mask but sometimes, something slipped in, the only crack in his armor.
The private room he used was already a mess. There were empty bottles everywhere, crushed cans littered the table. Half-full glasses were ignored in favor of the drugs they passed around. Baekjin just watched, a lit cigarette in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. He didn’t do drugs, that was stupid but he enjoyed being able to witness people at their most inebriated state. They were so much easier to manipulate.
He had a pretty thing on his arm, playing with his collar. Baekjin wasn’t particularly hungry but appearances must be kept so he let the boy lean in closer than he would usually allow, knees digging into his legs.
“Boss, someone’s here for you, says he knows you.”
No one but Baekjin was aware enough to notice the bodyguard that had appeared at the door. Baekjin quirked his brow, annoyed.
“And do you believe everyone who says they know me?” Baekjin was going to have this one fired if they kept up such an inane line of sense. The man just shook his head, tapping his earbud before replying.
“Claims he’s your friend.”
That piqued Baekjin’s interest. No one was stupid enough to claim to Baekjin’s face that they were ‘friends’. He had his fair share of people throw his name around like they mattered but that was crushed quickly as he rose to power. He hummed, turning his glass in his hand. His attention was still valuable, it wouldn’t do to expend it so willingly.
“Let them in.”
Baekjin could think of one person with the audacity to claim his friendship. His heart began to race, finally awake after feeling dead in his body. Part of him thought it was stupid to think that this was him, but another part, one that coiled deep in his chest knew exactly who would walk through the door.
Park Humin looked painfully out of place. With his weathered jeans and grungy hoodie, Baku looked like he’d been scrapped off the street. His eyes looked haunted, lines already deep underneath but they lit up as they met Baekjin’s.
“Yah! Who the fuck is this, Baekjin-ah?”
Baekjin’s entire focus had tunneled as soon as Baku appeared. He was still, like a predator catching sight of another in the grass. He noticed the slight twitch in his left eye when he heard Baekjin’s name thrown so casually.
“I need to talk to you.”
Baekjin could feel his palms begin to sweat, his pulse rabbiting in his throat. It had been a good while since he’d seen Humin or heard his voice. The last time they saw each other…
“We are talking.” Baekjin smirked, knowing that having Baku come to him meant only one thing: that he needed something that only Baekjin could provide.
“In private.” Baku replied, side-eyeing the others seemingly half-conscious of their surroundings. He frowned and Baekjin laughed to himself, ever the saint Park Humin to frown upon the sinners that fed from Baekjin’s hands.
“yAH! Get out of here! You’re stinking up the place with your broke ass.” Ju-won slurred, pointing at Baku. He was getting up when Baekjin grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into the table.
There was a scream or two but Baekjin ignored it in favor of sticking the lit end of his cigarette on the back of the boy’s ear. There was a sizzle, and the smell of burning flesh, followed by a guttural scream as the boy writhed in pain. Baekjin leaned over, pressing his weight on top of Ju-won’s face.
“Who said you could speak before me?” Baekjin hissed, fury radiating from his dark eyes. He lifted Ju-won’s face before slamming it once more into the table. There was a sickening crunch and a pool of red began to form underneath his cheek. Baekjin twisted his head to the side, facing Baku before he whispered in his ear. “Don’t fucking disrespect him again.”
Baku watched the explosion of anger with an apathetic gaze. A part of him was repulsed by the violence, Baekjin was quick to anger now that he had the weapons to back it up. But a small, insidious voice crowed with delight at how Baekjin would always bite first the hand of whoever insulted him.
Baekjin let him go with a grunt, smoothing his hair back. He snapped his fingers and had the unconscious boy removed. The waiter quickly wiped the mess of blood and glass, replacing it with a brand new one before disappearing.
“Looks like there’s a spot for you to sit.” Baekjin cleared his throat, taking a light sip of his drink. He was still high off the adrenaline, preening under Baku’s attention.
Baku simply tucked his hands in his pockets before shaking his head. “I’d rather talk about this in private.”
The rejection sent a wave of shock in the rest of his companions. No one ever said ‘no’ to Baekjin and survived. Baekjin clenched his jaw, already feeling that bubbling rage that followed Baku’s displeasure with his behavior. He tapped his glass on the table, taking a second to let the tension simmer. Baku was making no move to leave, in spite of Baekjin’s display which only meant that whatever this was, was far more important than pride.
“Everybody out.”
No one had moved, either too drunk or too confused to process his order. So Baekjin threw a bottle of scotch against the wall. It exploded into a million pieces, spraying the wall and everyone on the couch to his right with alcohol.
“I don’t ask twice.”
Instantly, everyone vacated their seats. They stumbled and stepped on each other’s feet in their haste to escape Baekjin’s wrath. Baku was jostled by one boy who was the last to leave. His voice was faint but in the aftermath of their chaos, it was clear.
“Fucking rentboy.”
Baekjin’s eyes flashed, whistling to call the bodyguard who appeared just as quickly. He grabbed hold of the boy and prevented him from leaving.
“What did you just say?”
“N-nothing, Na Baekjin.”
Baekjin growled, and the bodyguard suckerpunched him in the gut, forcing him to double-over. He gagged like he was about to vomit and Baku wrinkled his nose in disgust. He stepped away to avoid any mess and Baekjin just shooed them both away. They were wasting precious time with their stupidity when he could be focusing on more important things.
“Come sit.” Baekjin patted the spot next to him. He popped open a bottle of whiskey as Baku slowly approached, watching his every move with suspicion. Baekjin didn’t mind, the idea of Baku’s eyes on him was pleasing enough.
Once Baku settled, Baekjin placed the glass in front of him and poured for both of them. He knew Baku didn’t drink because of his father but he still offered, knowing Baku would not refuse him.
“Alright then, what does the mighty Park Humin need for me?” Baekjin caught his sneer, offering a much sweeter smile. Baku eyed his glass, fiddling with it to avoid Baekjin’s eyes.
“My friend’s been kidnapped.”
Baekjin had to resist the urge to eyeroll. Of course, it was Baku’s precious friends, always about them. He hummed, lighting a cigarette to mask his disappointment.
“And why should I care?”
Baku sighed, he somehow knew Baekjin would make this difficult. The sharp eyed boy was already pouting at him. He forced himself to look away from those lips and took a sip of his drink.
“They’re holding him for ransom. They want 20 million won.”
Baekjin tapped his cigarette on the ashtray. So, that was why Baku needed him. Smiling bitterly, this was all he was good for Baku now.
“So you want me to give you the money?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not paying these bastards. They’ve been trying to extort kids for the past few months. At first, I thought it was one of your guys moving in on Eunjang but they’re a new gang moving into Yeongdeungpo. They’re trying to smuggle and sell drugs in your own backyard.”
Baekjin seethed. The Union was strong but it was still just a growing seed. Having another group come in would spread his resources too much in trying to stop them. The fact that they were peddling drugs meant that it would only take a few more months for them to really get a good hold in their district for their operations. Baekjin didn’t do drugs as a crime syndicate, he wasn’t stupid. They may be teens but anything involving that would only cause trouble down the road.
The early warning was greatly appreciated but Baekjin couldn’t give into Baku that easily. Part of their game was always getting him to squirm.
“Enemy of enemy is… you know.” Baku shrugged, not bothering to finish the saying but hoped he got the point across. Baekjin was still staring at his drink but Baku knew him well enough to know that the gears in his head were working.
Baekjin scoffed under his breath. “So now we’re friends?” He didn’t mean for it to come out so bitterly. But it was enough to chastise Baku’s earlier behavior. He should know by now that friends didn’t do what they’ve done with each other.
“Can’t come rushing in to save the day with your fists then?” Baekjin couldn’t help but tease, twisting the knife further and further.
“This isn’t the kind of fight you go in swinging, I know that. This requires a different kind of… attention.”
Baekjin couldn’t help but be pleased by how Baku’s mind worked. He was a brute by nature but he could sense when things required a bit more fine handling. Exactly the kind of thing Baekjin was good at.
“What’s in it for me?”
Baku’s eyes flashed. “I just gave you information. Isn’t that enough?”
“I would’ve known sooner or later.” Baekjin shrugged. His smile turned wicked, now it was Baku’s turn to play his game.
“So, what’s in it… for me?”
Judging from how Baku had thrown back his drink, he was preparing for this question all night. Baekjin watched as his jaw worked, throat bobbing from swallowing and not for the first time that night, he wanted to latch onto it with his teeth.
“Fine. What do you want?”
Baekjin hummed, tracing one long finger around the rim of his glass. His gaze flicked up as he whispered. “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”
And there it was, the reason Baku had never been able to shake Baekjin from him like a metal hook skewered into his soft underside. Baekjin’s eyes sharpened, half-lidded and burning, staring at him like he knew what he could have if Baku spent one more minute alone with him.
One more minute with that wicked tongue and that breathy voice, and those eyes looking at Baku like he was both savior and executioner. Like Baku held the leash to the most vicious fighting dog, ready to dole out violence and pain at a snap of a finger.
Except Baku needed that right now. Somewhere across the city, his friend Juntae got caught in something dark that he had no business being in because some idiot decided to pin their mistakes on him. He couldn’t have that so he used the only wildcard he had left in his deck to save him.
“I’ll do it.”
“Look at you, agreeing without even asking what it is I want. You would sell your soul just to save your friend?” Baekjin’s smirk widened.
“Yes.” Baku’s eyes trained on his glass.
Baekjin’s smile dropped. He felt a slither of that ever present jealousy snap at his feet. His gaze turned cold as he took a long hit from his forgotten cigarette.
“You know what I want.”
A hand moved underneath the table. With the confidence of bitter familiarity, it placed itself on top of Baku’s knee, not high enough to compromise but just so to serve as a reminder. Baku’s gaze dropped before it met Baekjin’s.
“Not until I see Juntae safe and sound.” His voice gruff, bellied by the gentleness in which he pried Baekjin’s hand off him. The brush of their skin was electric, making Baekjin snatch his hand away quickly.
“Hm. Fine. Let’s go.”
The ride to the Union office was silent. There was tension brewing in the car that could suffocate a small dog. Baku kept his hands on his lap, his hood up as he stared at the passing lights. He stole a glance at Baekjin. His profile lit by his phone screen, fingers moving swiftly across the surface.
In the dark, Baku could let himself imagine that it was different. That they were back to when Baekjin had first gotten this car and ripped through empty roads, high on life and adrenaline and each other. Back then it was still easy to pretend that nothing outside of their world mattered. The only thing that did was the way their hands fit together, the way their mouth moved without hesitation.
But it was different and every time was always the last until it wasn’t. Until Baekjin disappeared further into the mask he built after Baku broke his heart.
“We’re here.”
The office was just as empty as the building. The only signs of life were the papers sprawled on the table and one Geum Seongje fiddling with his phone with his feet up.
“I got the money— what the fuck is he doing here?” Seongje nearly fell out of his seat, pointing at the two by the door.
“Get out of my chair, Seongje.” Baekjin rolled his eyes, moving towards the table. Seongje quickly got up and stomped over to Baku.
“No, seriously, what the hell is this bastard doing here?”
“None of your business.” Baku growled, he didn’t really have time to deal with Baekjin’s new second. This guy was a lunatic as far as he’s heard.
“Excuse me?” Seongje’s eyes flashed, his fists tightened as Baku met his eyes.
“Enough.” Baekjin’s firm voice meant there would be no further argument. Seongje seethed but backed down and even Baku wondered how much power Baekjin had over his own people, to have them follow at a single word.
“Seongje-yah, gather the dogs. You won’t need much.” Seongje’s brows furrowed but Baku bristled at the friendly manner Baekjin said his name. He wasn’t just an underling, it appeared that he was Baekjin’s friend.
“What? What is this even about?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to our new neighbors. Humin here has given us a tip about our competition so we’re going to be doing him a little favor.” Baekjin’s smile was sharp as he brought his hands together in front of him. He gestured dismissively at the duffel bag on the black couch.
“You’ll be going with him for the exchange.”
“Absolutely not. I did not agree to this.” Baku immediately protested. He had prepared to have to deal with Baekjin and he may not trust him completely but he definitely did not trust this Seongje.
“Yeah! Why am I the babysitter?” Seongje whined, throwing his own temper tantrum which went ignored by Baekjin, who used to it.
“You’ll be needing back up, Humin-ah. And I don’t see your precious Hyuntak anywhere here.” Baekjin mocked sweetly. He did wonder if his new replacement was not as good, especially after the little ‘incident’ that happened. Baku stilled at the name, jaw clenched as he thought of his best friend still in recovery. It’s been a few months of Hyuntak telling him he was fine but every hidden wince was like a stab in Baku’s side. He’ll forever carry the guilt of that.
It was a mistake for Baekjin to remind Baku of that particular affront but Baekjin was rarely ever rational when it came to Baku.
Baekjin sighed, rolling his eyes when Baku didn’t reply. “Fine. I’ll be going as well. Just to keep an eye on things.”
Seongje looked even more confused. Baekjin stopped going out to deal with things since the Union had gotten bigger. He only ever got involved when they were deemed important enough to warrant his presence in the field. He was the head, after all. It wouldn’t be good if he was suddenly killed by some random stranger.
“Make sure what belongs to me, is returned to me.”
Seongje stared at the two, eyes jumping back and forth between Baku and Baekjin like he was watching an exciting game of tennis. They were both tense but Baekjin had mastered the art of not letting it show. His icy mask was on, eyes dancing as they looked up at Baku who wore his emotions plainly on his face. Seongje has heard of Park Humin, of course he has because Baekjin wouldn’t shut the fuck up about him. But to see him in the flesh was like seeing a character from a story come to life.
And it was so painfully obvious how terribly affected Baekjin was by him. It was a little hard to see.
“Fuck, okay, I don’t know what the hell is going on with you two and why I’m being involved but fucking fine. Let’s just go already.”
Seongje knew there was no winning with Baekjin about this, he knew when to pick his battles. He lit his cigarette and grabbed the duffel bag full of money.
“Seongje-yah.” Baekjin tossed him the car keys which Seongje caught with ease. “Take the car with the money. I’ll take the bike with the others.”
Baku’s lingering question of the bike Baekjin was talking about was finally answered as he rode alongside Seongje inside the car.
They pulled up to a stop light when he heard a loud rumbling outside. Next to the car was a sleek black on black motorcycle with silver accents. The seat high, forcing the driver to lean forward. Baku recognized it immediately, it was a tricked out Suzuki Katana. The bike he and Baekjin had wanted to buy since forever.
The paint job gleamed, a slick dark film that stood out with its darkness. Chrome accents lining the side. Its engine purred, trapped between two long legs and Baekjin dressed in a sharp leather jacket. His gloves turned the handlebars, making the engine roar. Baku felt his blood rushing down south as he took in the lines of Baekjin’s body draped over the motorcycle. His gaze jumped to Baekjin who was already staring at him like he knew Baku wouldn’t be able to resist panting at him like a dog. He even winked before flicking his visor down and speeding down the road, flanked by a cluster of motorcycles.
Baku felt his palm sweating, cursing himself for being so affected by just the sigh of him. He didn’t even know Baekjin knew how to ride, they just fantasized about it when they were young. But seeing him on it made Baku’s head spin.
“Yeah, he knows he’s hot shit on that thing.” Seongje’s sigh brought him back to the present. A cloud of acrid smoke wafting from his mouth. “Fucking asshole.”
Seongje mumbled to himself, sniffing when Baku grabbed his cigarette and promptly put it out with his foot.
“Hey!” Seongje protested but he was quickly silenced by Baku’s glare. He noticed how tightly clenched his fists were and Seongje just raised his hands in frustration. These two, he swears, fucking perfect for each other.
“We’re on the same side right now, you know.” Seongje crossed arms, pouting like a petulant child. Baku took a deep breath to calm down, staring out the window.
“Don’t fucking talk to me.”
Seongje rolled his eyes, mumbling Baku’s response back to himself in a mocking tone which Baku promptly ignored. Seongje sighed, dramatically. “God, why are you guys so bitchy?”