beautiful liar.

mixwoobin·:

serendipity.

♕

It’s not until the doors properly closed that Woobin turned back around to face his petite companion - his stern expression melting away at the sound of Ki’s giggles as he shot him a wink.

It was easy to fall back into their playful back and forth even if, at that moment, Woobin had zero idea of what he was doing.  He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to invite Ki to breakfast and effectively kidnap him before the younger man had a chance to answer.  He just knew that he wanted nothing more to do with the busybody crowd behind them when he could instead enjoy a few more stolen moments with Ki.  

Even if all that entailed was Ki choosing to accompany him to the second floor and nothing more.

But as he watched Ki relax, saying nothing as he hit the button for the twenty ninth floor, Woobin found himself gravitating towards the young escort.

“That’s simply a matter of opinion, Ki-yah,” he teasingly argued back, giving him a once over  just for show.  But Woobin did have to quietly acknowledge that he had a point.

In the clear light of day, it was obvious just what Ki had been up to the night before - even if, to Woobin at least, that did nothing to detract from the young escort’s beauty.

“But my plan most definitely involves food, beautiful,” he assured him, cupping his cheek with one hand as he gently tipped Ki’s head back.

“If you’re interested that is,” he reassured him, smile still soft as he offered Ki an out - something which was starting to become a bit of a habit for Woobin.  But considering the way they seemed to constantly run into one another, it seemed important that the young man understand the parameters of their interactions.

Almost.

“It’s going to take more than a hoodie to fix this mess,” he says with a little laugh, tilting his face into the feather light touch against his cheek.

He hesitates over his next words, unsure if he’s bold enough to push.

The man standing before him is still a stranger-- a fact which Ki is finding all too easy to forget whenever their paths happen to cross. He doesn’t know a thing about him apart from his name and where he works. However, Ki can’t help but feel at ease in Woobin’s presence, can’t deny the little thrill he gets when cornered with that cocky grin or the way his stomach tightens over the softest of touch.

But Ki has never been one to mull over things, to think them through. So why should he start now?

“Let me borrow your shower and we’ve got a deal.”

The elevator dings cheerfully as they reach Woobin’s floor. The doors slide smoothly open, but Ki remains in his spot wedged between the older man and the elevator’s wall, quite content to remain pinned as he is. “I can make it quick,” he promises, though not without pitching his voice lower and adding a playful, “Unless you want to join me, of course.”

@mixkihyun

Woobin was itching for a smoke.  It wasn’t often that he indulged in that particular habit; unlike when he’d been a teen, and probably smoked more often than he ate a solid meal.  But sometimes Woobin needed something to keep his hands busy as he counted down the seconds before his shift ended.

Especially on nights like tonight when all he’d done was patrol Luxe, keeping an eye out for any potential trouble that might crop up.  It wasn’t his favorite assignment considering the club had actual security guards to handle the unruly drunks that decided to make a spectacle of themselves but no one was taking any chances considering all the special guests that were currently seated in the VIP lounge.

No, tonight was all about reaffirming alliances as Dante met privately with other powerful players looking to expand their own dominion over the island’s black market.  Meaning Woobin was playing the role of the dutiful guard like all the other men with guns strapped to their hips that had been kicked out of the private lounge area as Dante liquored up the fools entering the viper’s den.

He was infinitely glad that it was Snoopy that accompanied Dante tonight and not him because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep a straight face through the proceedings… or stay awake for that matter.

Ki blinks even as he allows himself to be guided back into the elevator from which he’s just escaped. He lets the older man crowd him back without protest, too surprised (and maybe intrigued) by the unexpected gesture to properly react-- at least until Woobin turns to block the entrance with his body, effectively cutting off the gathered crowd from boarding after them. 

When he catches a glimpse of the outraged expressions on the faces of the other guests, Ki can’t help a giggle as the elevator doors slide shut right in their faces. 

He turns his amused gaze to the other man and settles his weight against the elevator wall. The familiar jab of the lift’s handlebar against the small of Ki’s back is a reminder of the last time they’d found themselves alone in this very elevator. His smile turns playful as he tilts his head to regard Woobin in consideration. 

“I’m hardly dressed for breakfast,” he points out, glancing down at the sheer lace of his shirt and all the skin visible beneath it. The suit jacket that he wore over his top the night before is still tucked neatly over his arm. Dressed as he is at this hour, there’s little wonder why he’s turning so many heads, but Ki can’t be bothered to care. 

♕

Throwing his suit jacket over his shoulder as he strode across the lobby of the Elysian, Woobin was more than ready for his shift to be over.  Not that it had been a particularly taxing night.  In fact, just remembering certain events from the night before had him smiling to himself as he patiently waited for the elevator to make it down from the 15th floor.

No, what Woobin wanted to avoid was being drawn into another long discussion that was more suited for a boardroom than the club dancefloor.  Afterall, that’s why Woogeun handled their daylight issues instead of him.  And while everyone in the squad knew that their shift was never really over, Woobin just wanted to get some breakfast and sleep after a long night of diplomatic smiles.

He doesn’t waste any time as the elevator doors open with a gentle ping, pushing through the exiting crowd with ease… only to be stopped in his tracks as a familiar mop of curls crashes straight into him.

He doesn’t bother stopping his chuckle as he catches sight of rosy cheeks as Ki peeks up at him, much like he doesn’t bother moving from his spot as he blocks the elevator doors - suddenly far more interested in helping Ki find his footing than entering the elevator itself.

“Why do I feel like the Elysian is constantly doing you a disservice?,” he teased back as he met Ki’s gaze, giving his hips a gentle squeeze as he steadied the other.

It was clear that the younger man had an exhausting night - even more so than Woobin’s as he caught sight of the smeared eyeliner that gave him an oddly adorable raccoon look, but even that knowledge didn’t stop the next words out of his mouth.

His attention is stolen from the woman by Woobin’s next words.

“You were thinking about me?” he echoes in surprise, eyes going wide as they snap back to the man towering before him. “Really?”

Ki barely disguises a grimace at how eager he sounds even to his own ears.

Around them, the queue of guests waiting to board the elevator are growing impatient, but Ki pays them little mind. Despite how exhausted he feels, he can’t help but brighten at the sight of Woobin’s easy grin, and he feels his own lips curling in response. For just a bit, thoughts of the shitty mattress awaiting him at home are the furthest thing from his mind.

He blinks as a realization occurs to him. “Wait, are you just getting off? I thought Luxe closed ages ago.”

♕

Somewhere in the back of his head, Woobin knew that this was a bad idea.  In fact, everything that had to do with the tempting young man before him seemed to scream bad idea.  After all, the last time he’d followed along with one of Ki’s ideas, Woobin had ended up the talk of the town. 

Even after a shoot out at the docks that ended with Potter whining about his stitches for days, the only thing the rest of his squad could talk about were the lurid details of his tryst.  Not that Woobin particularly cared what they thought of him or his sex life (even if at one point he felt the overwhelming urge to whack Jongsuk over the head).  But there was no denying a certain amount of danger that came from associating with an escort… and one that belonged to another gang.

It’s why both he and Ki had insisted that their last fling had been just that - a one night stand that they both knew couldn’t happen again.

But in that moment, Woobin found himself smoothing his palm along the expanse of Ki’s thigh as he pressed into the other’s space, unable to resist the younger’s man pull.

“Twenty minutes sounds like enough for what I have planned for you,” he promised, the excitement already palpable between them as he pressed his answering grin against Ki’s soft lips, not wanting to waste another moment.

“But I’m warning you know, beautiful, I make no promises that we’ll actually make it up to my suite this time,” he warned, his smirk turning devilish as he tugged Ki to his feet - drinks long forgotten as they made their way to the elevators.

Ki can’t remember the elevators ever taking this long before. He’s standing in the lift with his suit jacket folded over his arm, polished shoes tapping the plush carpet impatiently as he watches the floor numbers tic past one by one. His feet ache, his back aches, and he knows he looks a mess after a night of back to back clients.

All he wants is to catch the next bus and get home to sleep for the next twelve hours straight.

Of course, his plans rarely seem to pan out these days, because once the elevator finally reaches the lobby floor and he spills out of the lift, he does so right into an all too familiar chest.

Ki catches his balance on the older man’s arm by instinct. The old business woman who had been sharing the elevator with him brushes past them with a withering glance thrown back over her shoulder, and Ki can’t help but bristle a bit at the disdainful look in her eyes. Sure, it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’s doing a professional walk of shame out of the hotel, but he’s in no mood to humor a spinster with a superiority complex.

Especially when he’s pretty sure that she’s the wife of one of last night’s clients.

However, before Ki can dole out the proper lashing he can taste on the tip of his tongue, his attention is stolen by a pair of strong hands helping him find his footing.

♕

This close, Woobin doesn’t miss Ki’s answering grin or the way that his smile seemed to light up his whole face.  He also doesn’t miss the fact that his grin only widened as Woobin made his offer.  That alone gave Woobin hope as he distractedly waved Min over to take their order, eyes never leaving Ki’s small frame.

“You caught me,” he answered with an easy laugh, trying and failing to not remember the last time Ki’s finger slid against his chest like that or the rather predatory look in his eye the last time he caught sight of his shoulder holster.

It’s why he didn’t bother thinking as he pressed close, chasing after that brief touch as his hand found his way to Ki’s knee - his thumb rubbing lazy circles against his skin.

“I’d definitely miss your presence if you ever slipped away from me,” he countered, lips already twitching in amusement as he watched the gears turning in Ki’s head.

“Now, by my calculations we’ve got... fifteen, twenty minutes before anyone notices one of us missing,” he muses, lifting his knee ever so slightly, just enough to press against Woobin’s dick through his pants. “I’m sure we can think of a way or two to fill the time.” 

It’s a risky move, but Ki finds he doesn’t care. He’s been kept under his pimp’s thumb ever since that night two weeks ago when he mistook Woobin for a client, and maybe that’s why he’s so eager to rebel right now, so willing to take this risk and sneak off with the very man who landed him in this trouble in the first place. 

Or maybe it’s less about a bit of rebellion and more about the man currently crowding him against the bar. 

Rather than examine it too closely, Ki does what he does best-- he throws caution to the wind and follows his gut. 

There’s a split second where Ki wonders if he shouldn’t have thought this through a little more-- if approaching Woobin at all was a mistake. After all, he’s all too familiar with the terms of engagement that come hand in hand with one night stands. However, nothing with the other man has been by the book so far, and so Ki didn’t think twice about slinking over to say hello once he spotted the giant moving through the crowd. 

His moment of uncertainty is short-lived, though. 

His smile widens at Woobin’s greeting, and he doesn’t hesitate to accept the arm the other offers in invitation before they make their way back to the bar. Ki leans his back against the bar counter and grins up at Woobin. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble tempting me,” he teases lightly, letting his gaze sweep the other from head to toe before lifting his eyes to meet Woobin’s once more, “But I am on the clock.” 

He reaches out to trail a finger lightly down Woobin’s chest before slipping his hand just inside the other man’s suit jacket, just enough to give his shoulder holster a little tug. “Though it looks like you could say the same for you,” he muses, his touch retreating as he settles back against the counter top once more, elbows resting against polished oak. 

@mixkihyun

Woobin was itching for a smoke.  It wasn’t often that he indulged in that particular habit; unlike when he’d been a teen, and probably smoked more often than he ate a solid meal.  But sometimes Woobin needed something to keep his hands busy as he counted down the seconds before his shift ended.

Especially on nights like tonight when all he’d done was patrol Luxe, keeping an eye out for any potential trouble that might crop up.  It wasn’t his favorite assignment considering the club had actual security guards to handle the unruly drunks that decided to make a spectacle of themselves but no one was taking any chances considering all the special guests that were currently seated in the VIP lounge.

No, tonight was all about reaffirming alliances as Dante met privately with other powerful players looking to expand their own dominion over the island’s black market.  Meaning Woobin was playing the role of the dutiful guard like all the other men with guns strapped to their hips that had been kicked out of the private lounge area as Dante liquored up the fools entering the viper’s den.

He was infinitely glad that it was Snoopy that accompanied Dante tonight and not him because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep a straight face through the proceedings… or stay awake for that matter.

Ever since his little stunt two weeks ago, his pimp has been breathing down his neck everytime he works a job, just waiting for Ki to try and stir up trouble again. Little does the moron realize that Ki’s playing along less out of fear of the bastard’s heavy hand and more out of simple boredom. He’s playing the good little whore to bide his time until something more appealing comes along. 

Tonight’s his first night at Luxe since his little trist with a serpent. He’s currently sitting at the bar and nursing a flute of cheap champagne, waiting to be approached by a horny businessman looking to buy himself a bit of company for the night. With a sigh he lifts his eyes to scan the bar before turning in his seat to cast a considering glance around the club in search of a potential mark. 

His eyes catch on a familiar figure nearing the bar and, unbidden, his lips pull into a slow grin. 

He slips from his perch on the barstool and slinks over to intercept the other man. 

Ki lets his mind wander as he methodically helps Woobin rinse clean. His body moves on auto-pilot, nimble fingers chasing away the remnants of shampoo from Woobin's hair, the last traces of soap from his skin. This isn't the first time he's helped someone wash up-- far from it, in fact. But this is the first time he's done so of his own volition, of his own desire to care for someone else and offer what comfort he can. 

Somehow, the gesture feels so much more intimate now than it had all those times before.

He hums to himself to fill the heady silence. 

The water is beginning to chill by the time that Woobin wraps careful fingers around Ki's wrist, drawing him from his head. His eyes follow Woobin's hand as the older man uses his light grip to draw Ki's hand closer so that Woobin can brush his lips against Ki's skin as he speaks.

Ki's answering smile is soft ( too soft ).

He's the first to step out of the shower and reach for a towel. He passes it to Woobin before taking a second for himself -- though before he has a chance to unfold it, Ki finds his vision darkened by the other towel tossed over his head. 

His answering laugh rings off the tile of the bathroom as he futilely tries to wriggle free as Woobin begins to dry his hair. By the time he does escape, he's breathless with giggles and sways weakly into Woobin's still damp chest. 

Ki feels light, lighter than he can remember having felt in weeks, and rather than examine that he instead surges up on tiptoe to place a chaste kiss on Woobin's lips.

 "You dry off. I'll go dig out something for you to wear to bed." He doesn't wait for an answer before slipping from the older man's arms and into the adjoining suite. 

It takes a bit of rummaging before Ki locates a pair of pajama pants in one of the dresser drawers located in the walk-in closet. By now the chill of the air conditioner against his still-damp skin has Ki's teeth beginning to chatter, and so he pauses long enough to glance around the walk-in, searching for something he can steal to sleep in for the night. 

His gaze hangs on the hamper tucked in the far corner and the sweatshirt hanging from its edge. 

When he emerges from the closet, he does so wearing the stolen sweatshirt, hands hidden deep within its sleeves, hem brushing low on his thighs with every step. 

Ki’s learned long ago how to shut off his thoughts and let instinct guide him. It’s a necessity of sorts given his line of work, but even as a child he was an impulsive thing, always acting before thinking a thing through. It’s a habit that’s gotten him in more than his fair share of trouble over the years, but it isn’t one that he has any interest in curbing. 

When a life is as uncertain as his, there’s no time to waste overthinking. 

Even this thing with Woobin, whatever it is, is owed to his impulsiveness. Had Ki not thrown caution to the wind and played hooky with the older man the night that their paths first crossed, they wouldn’t be standing where they are right now. Woobin would have been a passing handsome face-- nothing more, nothing less. Maybe Ki wouldn’t have even remembered their encounter come the next morning. 

And maybe Ki is using that same impulsivity as an excuse not to overanalyze the night’s events just yet. But as Woobin guides him under the shower spray to join him, Ki can’t find a bit of fault in his logic. Tonight has proven that whatever time they steal away together is never a guarantee. 

So rather than waste time trying to put a label to the tightness in his chest, Ki busies his hands coaxing away the grit and filth from Woobin’s skin, letting the evidence of the explosion and their near-miss disappear in a swirl down the drain at their feet. He reaches for the shampoo only once the water has begun to run clearer. “Come here,” he instructs quietly, guiding Woobin to bow his head so that he can reach his hair to lather it. 

He doesn’t try to respond to Woobin’s declaration. 

He doesn’t know how. 

“Why?”

The question leaves Ki’s lips before he can make sense of it, before he can put any thought behind the weight that such a simple question holds. He isn’t even sure which one of them he intends it for-- there are so many questions, too many, to make sense of any of this. There’s no reason for him to be so… attached. For either of them to be. 

But even if it’s only to himself, Ki isn’t ready to admit that he is attached. 

There’s no other reason for his feet to have taken him across the city to Woobin’s suite following the devastation of tonight’s events. There’s no other reason for him to have let himself into the suite with shaking hands, or for him to have spilled through the doorway with Woobin’s name on his lips, already calling for him as he began to search the still-dark rooms. 

He can count on his fingers how many times that he’s met this man and have plenty to spare, but somehow despite that, Ki wasn’t scared for himself when the world around him exploded back at the party-- he was scared for Woobin. He was scared that his last memory of the man would be Woobin’s easy smile as they shared their first breakfast together, or the way the older man’s face had lit up the moment he spotted him across that crowded ballroom.

Ki doesn’t give Woobin a chance to answer him, though. 

Instead he surges up onto his toes and presses their lips together, uncaring of how each touch between them smears his skin with soot and filth, of how the sweatshirt he’s stollen is already a lost cause. All he cares about is feeling Woobin alive and warm against his fingertips, his lips. Slanting his mouth beneath the others, Ki coaxes Woobin a step closer to the shower as his fingers return to his belt buckle, unfastening it with a practiced flick.

“No,” he pants between kisses, stealing Woobin’s breath before he can use it to form words, “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

Somehow Woobin’s kiss still manages to take Ki by surprise. 

He doesn’t hesitate to return it though, surging up on tiptoe to press their lips more firmly together, trying to relay every bit of uncertainty and relief that he’s feeling in that moment, that are so busy warring against each other that Ki can’t begin to parse their meaning just yet. All that matters right now is that Woobin made it home in one piece, that their last moment together hadn’t been a chance glimpse across a crowded room before the world exploded around them. 

When Woobin breaks the kiss to speak, Ki’s body still sways closer, lashes still lowered as if he isn’t ready for the moment to break just yet. But when Woobin tugs him along in the direction of the bathroom, Ki follows without hesitation. 

When they reach the bathroom, Ki turns to face Woobin properly and takes over the task of helping him undress. His suit is in ruins, unrecognizable beneath the ash and dust caked to the material now, but Ki still takes care as he unfastens each button in turn, fingers light and nimble. Quiet descends between them as he works, leaving only the soft rustle of fabric to fill the room as he eases each piece of clothing away in turn. 

His fingers falter when he reaches for Woobin’s belt. 

“I thought you were dead,” he finally says, voice quiet and eyes downcast, fixed on the still-fastened belt buckle. It’s the first time that Ki has allowed himself to put that truth to words, and even with Woobin standing inches away, alive and whole, they rattle him to his core. 

It’s just part of the job.

How many times has Ki heard those damned words in his line of work? When Lynx was breaking him in, the first time they turned him out. The first time he felt the warmth of fresh blood on his cheek as his client was executed right in front of him. He learned a long time ago that there’s no room for questions in the life that he’s fallen into. Everyone has a job to do-- it isn’t their place to question the orders that they’ve been given. 

It’s all just part of the job. 

He doesn’t allow his thoughts to stray too far though, drawing himself back into the moment by placing a careful kiss to Woobin’s brow, right above the fresh cut. “It is,” he agrees, probably too easily to be convincing, lips brushing against filthy skin as he speaks. 

Ki ignores Woobin’s protest, too relieved to feel the other man alive and whole to care about something as trivial as dirtying himself with the soot and dust still caked to the older man’s skin and clothes. Woobin still carries the smell of fire on him. The scent takes Ki right back to ground zero of the explosion, flashes of fire and smoke and exploding glass playing out all over again behind Ki’s tightly closed eyelids, but he only curls closer, tightens his hold around Woobin lest he lose sight of him all over again. 

He doesn’t notice that he’s started to tremble. 

“I’m fine,” he replies, voice little more than a rasp as he drags himself away from those memories and back into the present. “I’m okay,” he repeats, like this time he’ll convince them both. He settles back on his haunches, bare thighs framing Woobin’s lap as he leans back just enough to get a proper look at the other man. “Are you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before his hands begin roaming, ghosting over Woobin’s arms, his neck, his face in search of injury. 

Ki sits on the edge of the couch, knees beginning to bounce nervously once more as the latest news cycle begins to play. He leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as his eyes scrutinize every inch of the news footage. His hands are clasped together in front of his lips as if in silent prayer. If he thought it would do him any good, he’d even give prayer a shot if it meant that he’d catch a glimpse of Woobin walking away unscathed in the background of one of these stupid news reels. 

He’s so absorbed in the chaos playing out on the television that the sound of a voice carrying from the hallway has his head snapping up in surprise. He whirls, eyes wide as he takes in the sight of the older man as Woobin closes the distance between them. Ki is stunned into silence, overwhelmed by the sudden sight of him. 

When Woobin sinks to his knees before him, Ki can only reach for him with trembling hands.