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dumbbelle · 7 years

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✄ like a moth to a flame (pt.1)

@pristeen-23 : CRIMINAL MASTERMIND WOOZI AU

>> jihoon is engulfed in his own flames but he sees starlight in your eyes; all you want is to take a selfie with the highlighter-haired boy

warnings: swearing, murder, dispersed angst pairings: woozi | reader ; woozi | s.coups word count: 4599 a/n: this ended up being really long so I’m splitting it up lol

[pt.1] [pt. 2 – coming soon]

“Right, then let’s get down to business.”

A well-built man stands in front of a crowded bulletin board, mouth pressed into a hard line as he settles on the group seated at the worktable in front of him with a steely glare. Choi Seungcheol was clearly Not Delighted to be here but hey, what else was new?

“Because of a certain blonde fucker hiding behind Minghao over there – Mingyu, you’re the tallest one here, it’s futile to hide – our plans have been delayed, and we lost our last deal.”

If there’s one thing that distinguishes Seungcheol, Jihoon thinks, it would be a voice that commanded the silence of a crowd and that carried clearly over an entire room.

(“Cheol… With that voice of yours, I can picture you becoming a rapper in an alternate universe,” Jihoon’s a lot more open after an evening of drinking, and it’s not an unfamiliar sight to find the university students having similar conversations on their shared apartment floor.

“In your dreams, Hoon,” Seungcheol snorts, although Jihoon sobers up quickly at his words.

“You know I can’t anymore.”)

Despite the man’s relaxed tone, his cutting words are enough to make the tall agent recoil ever so slightly and take a silent step back. Jihoon scoffs underneath his breath, clearly not impressed.

“What was the first thing I told you boys about covert operations?” Mingyu raises his hand to answer the question and Minghao automatically tugs it down, looking as if he has to physically restrain himself from calling the other an idiot. “It’s to Not! Fuck! Up! You had ONE JOB.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jihoon can see the gang’s resident peacekeepers (a contradiction in itself, but there was too much to be said about the lack of normalcy in their little group) Joshua and Jeonghan glance at each other in nervousness; it is very rarely that one gets to witness Seungcheol raise his voice like this. “I work with a bunch of dumbasses!”

Did he just…?

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, loudly clearing his throat – and just like that Seungcheol falters, looking caught. Though he manages to hastily school his features into a hard expression, his tone is considerably softer as he speaks once more. “Yes, well, anyway, I’ve gotten us one more chance with these guys. Don’t mess it up this time.” And with that he turns around to the bulletin board, launching into a vivid explanation of their latest job.

Jeonghan and Joshua allow themselves to breathe a little easier in their seats.

“You don’t have to worry boss, I’m the best at what I do. There’s no way we can fail.”

You sway your legs back and forth as you sit atop your boss’ desk, swirling around a gobstopper from side to side in your mouth as you try to work your way to the middle. You can feel your boss’ eyes bore into you with flabbergast, and if not for the fact that you are Jeon Wonwoo’s closest friend, you might feel a little self conscious.

You are though, so screw it.

“Y/N, I think you might be missing the point here,” Wonwoo rubs a hand over his face, not even attempting to hide his exasperation, “Even your sketchy ass can’t possibly get us onto the invitation list of the most exclusive party of the year.” He turns his back to you and starts to pace, a habit you’ve come to recognize as Wonwoo in deep focus. You chuckle softly at the sight.

“You’re overreacting,” you sing, sticking out your tongue and crossing your eyes to gauge a visual representation of how much more you needed to go to finish your gobstopper. Just a little bit more! You feel relieved; as a matter of necessity, you had been working at it all day.

“Overreacting? Y/N, we need this story. Imagine being the only online tabloid in years to get the inside scoop from the Carat Gala? This will take us from lowly online tabloid to lowly online phenomenon!” Wonwoo has this glint in his eyes reflective of his undying ambition and hope, so of course you have to be the first person to pop his bubble.

“Boss, hate to break it to ya, but I’m sure it’s gonna take more than one story.” Wonwoo scowls and you shrug as if to say I don’t make the rules, sliding off his desk and stretching your arms behind your head. Before he has to chance to protest your claim, you wave a hand at him. “But don’t worry, I’ll find a way to make it work. You know I always do,” you chirp and casually stroll out of his office, forgetting to close the door behind you.

Wonwoo only watches you go silently, aware that arguing about the last time he had to bail you out for something stupid would only delay an inevitable process. Instead he sighs, slumping into his chair and eyeing the top drawer of his desk.

“Ah, fuck it.”

Wonwoo yanks open the drawer and takes out a gobstopper, popping it into his mouth.

“Coups, you know how much I hate being referred to as one and the same with the rest of these dimwits,” Jihoon grits his teeth at his best friend, – his literal partner in crime – having finally gotten the chance to say what was on his mind. The two stand in their now-deserted base, Seungcheol not even sparing him a glance as he focuses on rearranging the clippings on the bulletin board in front of him.

Jihoon feels more than a little bit insulted.

“Aw, Hoon–”

“–It’s Woozi on the clock.”

“On the clock? It’s just the two of us, Hoon.”

“Woozi.”

“Woozi,” Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance, as if he can’t believe the immaturity of his best friend. Well he can, but this was just not.the.time. “I’m sorry, okay?” Jihoon scoffs and makes to leave but Seungcheol quickly moves to cling onto his wrist. “Okay? We’ve got a job to focus on, it’s not time for petty arguments. And besides, I know you only get this cranky when the nightmares start up agai–”

“Shut up!” Jihoon snarls as he yanks his wrist away. “Shut up.” Once again, he makes his way towards the exit but this time, Seungcheol makes no move to stop him. He pauses at the entrance, and if Seungcheol wasn’t so accustomed to keeping an ear out for even the slightest of sounds, he might not have heard it:

“And you don’t have to worry, I’m the best at what I do. There’s no way we will fail.”

Seungcheol thinks the base feels much bigger when he’s standing there alone.

“Y/N, this is possibly the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with, and I’ve known you for five years – heck, I’ve worked with you for two!” Seungkwan is practically vibrating in his car seat, unable to sit still as he contemplates the full absurdity of the looming situation.

“What’s so stupid about it?” You turn to pout at your junior from behind the wheel, and Seungkwan ushers you to look back to the road. You tsk at him, annoyed. “You’re always such a nervous passenger,” you complain, despite obliging and turning back around to face the road ahead of you.

“Correction: I’m always such a nervous passenger with you,” Seungkwan dismisses and you huff, offended at his implication. You open up your mouth to make a snide remark but he continues on, effectively shutting you up before you even get the chance to start. “And don’t try to distract me from the real issue here. We’re going to get thrown into jail again because all you can come up with is some half-assed plan.”

“On the contrary, I feel that the best way to sneak in is to not sneak in at all,” you giggle, drumming your finger tips along the grips of your steering wheel absentmindedly as you try to contain your excitement.

Seungkwan looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “Do you hear yourself right now?” He shakes his head in fascination. “Y/N, believe me when I say that we can’t just stroll into such a high-class event by pretending to be part of the entourage for some A-List celebrity!”

You gasp, scandalized. “He is not just any A-List celebrity! He’s Kim Mingyu, possibly the most handsome young bachelor around right now.”

His confusion is visible. “So?”

“So, he never goes anywhere without a massive entourage. One that would be very easy to blend into, if we play our cards right.” Even through your limited side-eye, you can tell he’s not buying into your plan one bit.

All of a sudden, he releases a loud groan. “Oh… We’re totally just following him in because you think he’s hot!” He hits head down on the glove compartment of the car. “We’re doomed.” You blush, trying to keep your professional image in check as you deny his accusations.

“Of course not! Now stop being melodramatic, we’ll get in just fine. In fact, I’ll even bet you 20,000 won.” This gets Seugnkwan’s attention, and he calms down for a second to gawk at you, unconvinced. You almost think to take it back, knowing that you have one too many overdue bills to pay this month and not enough money to do so. However, you’re confident in your abilities as an undercover reporter so you only repeat yourself, louder this time. “I’ll bet you 20,000 won that we’ll get into the Carat Gala scot-free. In fact, I bet we won’t even be noticed.” You stick out a hand for him to shake, and he gently nudges it back onto the wheel.

“You’re on.”

“W-W-Woozi! Oh hi, didn’t see you there… NOT that you’re easy to miss anything, your presence is huge… Goodness, that was not an attack on your height! Just look at me! You’re not short at all, ha ha ha…”

New recruit Chan is everything that Jihoon remembered himself to be at his younger age: awkward, short, and bad in social situations. He has to hold back a grimace and push down his internalized embarrassment as Chan continues to dig himself further into his grave; eventually, Hansol slams a hand over the kid’s mouth and shoots Jihoon a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that, he didn’t get much sleep last night.” Chan looks ready to protest but he instead nods bashfully, and Jihoon starts to wonder when the kid stopped looking like one of the most deadly up-and-coming assassins in the business, and instead started looking like an idol group maknae–

He has got to stop visualizing these idol group comparisons.

Hansol can’t seem to contain his curiosity either, it seems. “But sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?” It’s a valid question, as Jihoon himself usually prefers to control everything behind the scenes from his meticulous computer setup equipped with a bowl of ramen.

“This job’s important; ergo, we can’t have you inexperienced members messing it up.” Jihoon smooths out his suit in the mirror before giving himself a once-over to check that his earpiece is safely concealed and that his hair is perfectly gelled back. “So I’m coming with you to make sure that doesn’t happen. ” He bends down to comfortably adjust the butterfly knife underneath his pant leg, ignoring the looks that Hansol and Chan share with each other as they finish their own preparations. Obviously, they didn’t take kindly to the way Jihoon talked down to them. Obviously, Jihoon didn’t care.

Standing back up, Jihoon scans the room for the rest of their members. Seungcheol is busy fixing Joshua’s tie, and Jihoon jeers at the almost motherly behaviour. They were starting to feel too comfortable around here, and he couldn’t have them turning soft. The more emotionally attached they got to Seungcheol and each other, the more worried Jihoon got that they would become too emotionally attached to their cases. The last thing he needed was for one of his guys to fall in love with one of their client’s targets.

Turning away, he can see Mingyu moping in a corner, Minghao by him as a comforting presence as he sits by his side and uses his phone. Jihoon glowers; Mingyu’s been acting like this since their last group meeting, and frankly, he is long over it. Making his way over, he catches Minghao’s eye and nods once, a silent dismissal. The sharpshooter pockets his phone immediately before patting Mingyu’s back and gracefully exiting the scene. Jihoon appreciates the ease of process. Why can’t the rest of them be like this? Jihoon stands in his place, looking down at the man. For a few moments, he says nothing, but then he opens his mouth and–

“Mingyu, stop moping around and get off your ass,” Jihoon almost winces at the harsh timbre of his own voice, as it’s not quite the effect he was going for. Nevertheless, Mingyu begrudgingly hulls himself up, refusing to meet his eyes. Jihoon wants so badly to strangle the man but he knows his gang members, so he also knows that doing so would badly jeopardize their team. Mingyu had unwittingly become a key figure in many of their plans, a public icon that acted as their primary gateway and major distraction. Though Jihoon knew they could function without him, it would be much easier if they kept him on board.

“Mingyu, about the other day…” Mingyu raises his head from the ground slightly so that the two meet eye-to-eye. Good, I’ve got his attention. “Coups has a short temper, but he has little resolve. He’s long over everything. After all, what happened on the ship could have happened to anybody.” Not to Jihoon, but Mingyu looks so damn hopeful that he knows that his battle is as good as done. “As for me, as long as you do what you do best and charm everyone with that kind and endearing bachelor image of yours, we’ll sweep this whole incident under the rug.” Like hell he will, but they’re under a time limit and he needs Mingyu in tip-top condition. Mingyu nods, and Jihoon, sufficiently satisfied, turns to the rest of the gang.

“Any questions?” Silence. “Alright, let’s get on our way.”

“There! That’s him!”

You push Seungkwan to the side in order to get a proper look at the limousine that arrives by the hotel entrance, a tall celebrity emerging from the vehicle and waving a hand at the paparazzi that immediately bombards him. Seungkwan, used to your treatment, ignores the arrival and only checks to make sure that his camera is safely disguised in his jacket. After all, someone had to be ready for the sneak-shots, and the only other option was busy ogling at some 6-foot-tall socialite. Seungkwan risks a glance.

“There’s no denying his looks, that’s for sure,” he concedes, eyeing the man’s broad shoulders and toned features. But what really catches his attention are the people exiting the car behind Mingyu, each sporting good looks of their own. Seungkwan whistles. “Y/N, look,” he nudges your attention over to them and you scrutinize the crowd before smiling in recognition. They are all familiar faces to you: Xu Minghao, Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan, Hong Jisoo, Choi Hansol… In-depth Naver stalking had you memorizing the known details of Mingyu’s closest friends and most devoted followers.

“See? I told you they would be with him. They tag along for every event.” Your eyes continue to follow them until you notice a shorter being amongst their midsts. Strange, you think, furrowing your eyebrows. How could I ever miss him before? Though his highlighter hair is gelled back perfectly and his sharp cheekbones look like they might kill a man, there is this undeniable cuteness about him that you can’t help but linger on. Perhaps it is the height, but you think it has something to do with his demure smile and the way his head bobs around excitedly, seemingly overwhelmed. You realize that he must be new, and a single thought permeates your brain:

I need to take a selfie with him.

But for that, you had to get in successfully first. When you finally rip your attention from the group, you turn around and place your hands on Seungkwan’s shoulders. He mimics you, squeezing your shoulders in response. “We got this,” you both chant quietly, what had become a treasured tradition over the last couple of years. With one last pat on each others’ backs, the two of you slide around to the front and scurry in to the hotel with the rest of the group before they even have the chance to notice.

The two of you work in silent harmony, each sidling up to walk ever-so obliquely behind an entourage member, trying to spread yourselves apart; the two of you are harder to catch when dispersed. You can feel a pounding of exhilaration inside your chest, something that you know Seungkwan must be feeling twice as hard even with his dazzling smile. You position yourself behind the short man you had noticed earlier, taking note that Seungkwan quickly chooses a position behind that Hansol boy. He looks a little flustered, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s anxious about getting caught, or if it’s because Choi Hansol looks like a damn doll in person. Hell, they all do.

It was probably a little bit of both.

Your large group arrives to the intimidating doormen and you try and hold your head up higher, knowing that confidence would only contribute towards your success. They’re stiffly straight, clipboards at the ready as they look towards Mingyu.

“Kim Mingyu,” It’s your first time hearing his voice this evening, and you involuntarily let out a small squeak, not being able to completely restrain your inner fan (okay, so maybe Seungkwan was a teensy bit right). Though not loud enough to be heard by most, you notice Mingyu’s small friend in front of you has now turned to stare at you fully, and you halt. Busted.

Your eyes widen and you glance over to Seungkwan, who has also noticed and looks like he wants to internally combust. You slowly turn back to the man, bringing your hands together in a silent plead. “Please don’t say anything,” you mouth the words but he does nothing to respond, only continuing to stare, and you find yourself quickly retracting any early notions you had about him being cute. You feel unnerved by his unblinking eyes, unmoving expression. Cute?

Right now, all you see is danger.

As the doormen move you along, the small man simply turns back to face the front and you’re stunned still for a moment, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Before the doormen can get suspicious, you feel Seungkwan’s hand grab yours and tug you forwards. He gives your hand a concerned squeeze, but it’s hesitant, as if he’s not sure what to be concerned about. You’re not sure what came over you either, so you flash him a reassuring smile and leave it at that.

The moment the two of you are far enough from the entrance, you break from the group and sneak away into the crowd. You make the mistake of looking back, and your eyes immediately find those of the highlighter-haired man. It startles you, the phlegmatic stare that follows you into the crowd. His face is eventually lost in a sea of others, and though your favourite actress is standing just an arm’s length away from you, all you can remember is the look of danger.

The look of fire.

“Strange, huh?” Seungkwan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you nod in agreement. “Perhaps he just had bigger problems on his mind than two journalists trying to gatecrash.” You start to wonder if he had been aware of your presence the entire time, but the thought is interrupted when a hand is shoved in front of your face.

“Pay up.”

Seungkwan beams as you take out your wallet from your purse and reluctantly slap two ₩10,000 bills onto the palm of his hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

“That was strange, huh?” Hansol comments airily as he snatches two hors d’oeuvres from a passing waiter. He offers one of the grilled scallops to Jihoon, who only scrunches up his nose as a response. He all at once regrets assigning himself to stick with the two youngest to scope out their targets. But he was not in the mood to team with Seungcheol, so he accepted what came. “Suit yourself,” Hansol shrugs, and holds the food up for Chan so that he can feed him the treat.

Jihoon is disgusted. “Do you use those same hands to poison your targets?” The two freeze, Hansol slowly retracting his hand from Chan’s mouth. Chan rubs his throat a little, but the other is quick to assure that he “isn’t Mingyu” and that he does, in fact, “have hygienic habits.” Jihoon doesn’t watch the exchange closely, busy looking into the crowd for the two gatecrashers from only minutes before.

You weren’t very discreet, no question about it. Even Mingyu was able to immediately spot the two of you the moment he exited the limousine, signalling your location to the rest with the hand behind his back. Jihoon was amused as he continued to subtly track your movements, holding back what felt like an actual smile the moment he noticed the two of you performing what seemed like some sort of ritualistic chant. “Mingyu, your fans are fucking crazy,” Jihoon hears Seungcheol mutter, and he has to agree. The absolute lengths that the fool’s fans would go through just to take a mere photo of the guy was astounding, but never did he once underestimate the power of a dedicated fanbase. And then the two of you tried to follow them in.

If he was amused before then he was downright tickled then. It had been a while since he felt so entertained, but the moment he felt your breath on the back of his neck (you were standing so damn close, he could inhale the light waft of your citrus shampoo), he was left in a state of disbelief. Whose dumb idea was it to gatecrash a party by following the celebrities directly in? Even if they weren’t assassins, the two of you would have been caught. In fact, the matter that they were assassins probably saved your asses from being kicked to the curb; as a matter of priority, they could care less about two fans with big ambitions to party. It was so laughable that he had to smile to himself secretly as they approached the doormen.

What he was not expecting was the small squeak you let out at the sound of Mingyu’s voice. It was right in his ear, and he felt compelled to finally acknowledge your presence – at the very least to tell you to take a step back. He turned around, and for those few moments he felt as if he was Chan’s age again: awkward, short, and bad in social situations.

You were… Prettier than he expected, and the way your eyes widened at the sight of him was so pure and innocent that all at once he felt uncomfortable in your presence. Jihoon felt his voice catch in his throat and his lips glue shut, a phenomenon that left him unable to speak. And he saw starlight in your eyes so bright that he got lost in it, wondering if he could follow it all the way back to normalcy. It felt dangerous in a sense, to be so easily taken aback and out of his element; but like a moth, he always found himself drawn to flames.

“Woozi look, that’s Mr. Jung. Objectivo número uno,” Hansol is whispering into his ear now and Jihoon only nods, embarrassed at having been found off task. “I can go slip some thallium into his drink, if you’d like – you know, the regular stuff. He won’t see it, he won’t smell it, and he won’t taste a thing. I’ll even get Mingyu to cause a distraction,” Hansol almost goes to do just that before Jihoon places a hand on his chest, telling the boy to calm down. Jihoon long accepted that the boy was trigger (read: posion) happy, but that wasn’t how he did his work.

“Calm down, assess the situation first. There has to be some reason that our clients want him gone. Figure it out.” Hansol looks reluctant but he doesn’t argue, pulling Chan off to do their work.

“Hoon, stop stressing out the poor boys with useless work,” Jihoon damn near decks Seungcheol as the man miraculously appears by his side. The leader took pride in being the only person to be able to sneak up on the short killer, and all Jihoon wants to do is to punch the smirk off his partner’s face.

“Woozi.”

“Woozi, stop stressing out the poor boys with useless work, I know you already have all the data filed up here,” Seungcheol taps Jihoon’s head fondly, speaking as if he’s doing so more out of obligation than out of actual concern. He loops an arm around Jihoon’s neck in a friendly manner and Jihoon doesn’t hesitate to shove it off.

“It’s a good exercise.” Unlike too many in this damn business, Jihoon didn't take on jobs blindly. Even if he considered it a policy to carry out jobs once accepted, Jihoon liked to know all the details behind a kill. Information was power in this day and age, and Jihoon likes power. But he’s not about to elaborate since Seungcheol already knows that, like Jihoon already knows his sole purpose on this earth was to try and piss him off as much as possible.

“Don’t you have a person to be pulling teeth off of or something?” He says it distastefully, not a particular fan of Seungcheol’s more sadistic forms of torture. Jihoon is an elegant assassin, but Seungcheol made them look like barbarians. “'We’ve got a job to focus on.’ Sound familiar to you?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “Tag team’s got it covered. Besides, we’re already here and things are falling into place.” And if Jihoon was being honest with himself, he could in fact hear the faint groans of pain emitting from his right earpiece, the pathetic cries for help playing like soft music in his ear. Joshua’s cynical laughter is present as well, and if Jihoon wasn’t so fucked up himself he might be concerned with how quickly the agent could change personas in the blink of an eye.

But Jihoon is fucked up, so he only plays dumb.

“If that’s the case, then you should be there helping them,” he puts on a smile, bowing at a popular television host who passes them.

“I could, but it’s more interesting here with you, my favourite person in the entire world~”

“Fling yourself into the sun.”

“Hoonie~” Jihoon hates how his glare doesn’t phase Seungcheol, but he ultimately supposes that came with the whole ‘childhood friend’ nonsense. He stares straight ahead, not wanting to give Seungcheol the satisfaction of eye contact. “I was talking to those two who followed us in earlier.”

Jihoon gives Seungcheol the satisfaction of eye contact.

Seungcheol snickers, pulling out a business card and tucking it into the collar of Jihoon’s suit jacket. “Journalist for Pledis Publishing. Thank me later.”

Jihoon hates Seungcheol a little bit less.

[pt.1] [pt. 2 – coming soon]

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