#kgjunho

jun’s barely managed to leave jitae back with whatever he’d been busy with and is now finally on her way to the person she came looking for to begin with. not that she wasn’t happy to see the other male again, but none of the things she’d gone through managed to make her forget about the phone conversation she’d had with junho while on the plane to mexico.

and she’s worried sick about her baby boy, really. so much has happened and there’s been so little time for her to keep up with the other people she cares about that she feels almost guilty for not having managed to find him sooner.

( sms ↳ 애기 ) i’m at the temporary new hq ( sms ↳ 애기 ) where are you?

she waits for the response to her text and then instantly hurries in that direction. her pace is swift, her long legs aiding her in hurrying through across the premises without looking like she’s running. still, she almost runs anyway because even the pace she’s going at doesn’t feel fast enough. but she knows people are watching and she doesn’t want anyone to know how much she actually cares about the younger male she’s currently looking for.

when she rounds a corner and he comes into view, the response is almost instant. relief courses through her upon seeing that he is truly alive and well. despite having heard his voice over the phone that was not a settled fact, apparently. and although her initial reaction is to come to a stop right away upon seeing him, it only takes her a heartbeat to put herself back in motion after that.

with three quick strides, she closes the rest of the distance between her and the young man she’d been dying to see again. there’s not a single spark of hesitation inside of her as she wraps her arms around him tightly, pulling junho against her chest and lifting a hand to automatically stroke over his hair.

“i’m here, baby,” she whispers softly, fingers threading through the soft locks while her other hand runs up and down junho’s back. so far for not letting anyone else figure out how much she cares, but she can’t even be bothered with worrying about that anymore. she’s just so glad to have him close to her and to be able to make sure with her own senses that he is truly fine. “i’m here. safe and sound. just like i promised.”

one dude with burn wounds follows a woman who got partly crushed under the rubble who in turn follows a young lad barely out of diapers who decided to save his computer first, who in turn follows...

the list seems like it’ll never end. even though there’s only a small amount of severely injured, there is a big amount of people with smaller injuries. cuts, bruises, first degree burns. not things that will kill a person but in some cases things that might make a person kill themselves.

for instance the guy sitting on the edge of an exam table with a needle in his hand focused on the cut in his leg. she knows he’s not skilled because he’s not even wearing gloves to do the job, but it’s not like that surprises her much. they’re all like that around here, it seems. the types to clean out their own wounds if they can and stitch themselves up to the best of their abilities.

commendable, when there’s no one else to do it for you, but honestly a little stupid when there’s an entire makeshift medical ward filled with people who have actually gone through professional training on the subject.

which means if you’re gonna stab a needle in your femoral artery because you’re so hell-bent on stitching up your own wounds, her exam table is most definitely not the place that is going to happen.

she’s on the other side of the room in four long strides, instantly plucking the needle out of the seemingly still quite young male’s hand. “i would say there’s enough casualties already,” she states sternly, instantly dumping the needle in one of the bowls meant for tools that need sterilising and glaring down at the young man’s wound first and then his face.

“or were you trying to end things for yourself? there are quicker ways, you know.”

ft. @kgjunho

unsurprisingly enough, yongguk makes a lot of stupid mistakes. 

he doesn’t mean to, he promises, but sometimes it’s almost like the action themselves call out to him to do so ㅡ and who is he to obstruct the course of whatever life has running for him? nevermind that it often leaves him with bruised knuckles, sore bones that ache in the morning and some other ass kicking pain somewhere in his body. to him it’s apparently worth it when he feels the rush in his blood, each and every hit.

glorified as it is in the underground world, the pump of adrenaline dies out pretty rapidly after you walk into the streets and there’s almost a split second where his knees buckle under him, but he just barely manages to dig fingers, nails into the cold gritty brick wall and he hoists himself back up. the street appears empty, no one else is there to cheer him, tell him he fought well when all congratulations had been exchanged back inside.

(besides, he knew he fought well anyways.)

after some amount of walking he sees a bench and decides that it wouldn’t be so bad if he took a break after all. so he slumps down, back pressed against the wood and head lolled back tiredly. he breathes, inhales, exhales, one, two. just to know he’s alive.

somewhere along that time, someone takes a seat next to him. yongguk almost ㅡ almost ㅡ cusses them out with tact, before he sees who it is. his mouth turns up, and he lets his head drop forwards a little. “huh.” he says. “fancy seeing you here.” a tilt of his head.

@kgjunho​

she blinks, corners of her lips curling into a scowl at the fluorescent lights burning her retinas. she closes her eyes, turning her head to stare at the wall. there’s a blurry dark pillar, and it takes a moment for her vision to clear enough for her to see it one of those- those machines, the one thats got a wire or a plug or a-

a tube! she’s got tubes stuck in her arms, and when she lifts her hand it HURTS, pain shooting up her wrist and she hisses.

the heart monitor beeps a little too loudly and she smashes all the buttons in her panic, reaching up with her other arm to rip out the needles. she hisses, arm spasming in pain, but she sits up, looking around. she can’t be here - not at a hospital, not when they’re going to be asking for identification if they don’t already have it. they’re going to find out, they’re going to have to report her.

ACCESS GRANTED TO: Galahad, @kgjunho​ CLASSIFICATION: Stealth, Reconnaissance LOCATION: Port Pohang

Xiang Yu tracked this merchant ship from France for weeks now. The normal authorities didn’t catch the forged license, among other documents the owner of the ship handed in, but the Kingsman’s system did. Moving contraband required more innovation, and it was their job to stay one step ahead of the smugglers. Discovering the ship was one thing, but getting info on what was on the boat and who it was going to was another matter. Aerial surveillance could only get him so close to the answers of these questions before he decided to take action.

The first point of action required submitting his findings and a ticket request for a mission. The request got approved with enough promptness to keep him satisfied. The next point of action was to argue with the advisor who handed his mission to a different agent. Though he understood why it’d be better to let other field agents work this, he still knew the details best. The nuances wouldn’t be able to be covered in a briefing. 

All of that action provided context as to why Xiang Yu and Junho were hiding in the same decrepit charter ship in the port where the merchant ship was. What was originally a solo mission turned into a partnership. He never actually worked with Agent Junho before but he wasn’t disappointed when he read the agent’s files, so he didn’t complain. 

it’s been several weeks again since jun has last seen junho. usually she doesn’t notice the time passing, nor does she worry, but whenever she receives word that he has returned, the motherly feelings spark up inside of her instantly. which is rather ironic, considering that the fact he’s back should already serve as proof that he’s alright. but apparently in jun’s mind worse things can have gone wrong than junho actually dying.

every time he returns from a mission, she hurries to him the minute she hears. sometimes she finds him at hq, sometimes she shows up at his damn door just to make sure he’s alright. no matter where she finds him, however, she always brings something for him to eat along with her. because a young man like him should get enough food in his system to make sure he’s alright.

this time, the mother hen finds her baby chick back at hq. it is in a random one of the headquarter’s hallways that she comes up to him, bag of takeout dinner already reached out in one hand as she approaches the younger male.

“junho, there you are.” the words come out of her a little breathlessly and rushed, because she’s reaching the heights of her worry at this point - despite the fact that he looks acceptably alright at this point. “you took a long time this time. are you alright? did you get hurt?” she never asks about the mission itself because those are always classified, but that doesn’t stop her from mothering over everything else.

“did you get proper amounts of food while you were off? did you get to shower recently?” for the first few moments there is never a word to be get in between all of her worrying questions, but eventually she does stop for a breath of air. that’s when her gaze stops on junho’s face and the question in her eyes waits for an answer from his side.

ft. @kgjunho

yongguk comes back to seoul because he has to, not because he wants to.

when he says it like that, he sounds like an awful person who hasn’t treasured the relationships he’d somehow managed to make upon joining kingsman but sometimes he wonders whether the burden that forms itself like a boulder weighing on his shoulders until they feel numb and his head feels dizzy are worth it for the few people he knows he treasures — and he knows they treasure him, too.

it always brings him to the inevitable realization that they’re going to leave one day because they have to, need to, because they’ll wake up and realise kingsman isn’t shit, or they’ll realise that they don’t enjoy the way they live. and he’ll be caught in the backwash of it, wondering whether any of them were planning to tell him in the first place or whether they wanted him to figure out he wasn’t vital in the first place.

at that thought, his hand that’s shoved deep inside his pocket curls into a fist, fingernails are cutting into the palm of his hand and it’s only when he can feel the telltale droplets of blood that he stops for the sake of stopping. yongguk’s exhausted, having come back from what was supposed to be relaxing looking even more shit than he should have and wandering around the same streets that he’s been walking around for the past ten minutes, at some obscure hour of the night like he shouldn’t inform kingsman he’s not dead at least.

he exhales, jerking out of a stupor when his shoulder collides with someone and he’s fragile enough that the impact leaves him stumbling for a second.

maybe it’s what people call temporary insanity. time displacement. dissociation. maybe it’s just that thing people do when emotions overtake them for a while and then they suddenly come back down from the high of them.

jun finds himself coming down from the high a certain evening while he’s looking at his fingers. one moment he’s thinking of all kinds of things and the next he finds himself suddenly realising where he is, what he’s doing, who with, as if he hasn’t already been at it for hours on end. days on end. weeks even, maybe.

junho is draped over the couch, his head having come to a rest on jun’s lap, and jun’s fingers are tracing lines on the younger male’s scalp like he’s trying to create artwork. perhaps soothing someone is artwork on its own and jun has managed to do exactly that which he’s been trying several times over, but he’s never asked. he just always assumes that when junho’s muscles relax bit by bit, his intentions have been realised.

and his own muscles relaxing along with those of the younger male are an added bonus he gladly takes along with it.

after all, before junho decided to basically move into his apartment, jun had found himself getting lost inside of it. in all the space there was with no one else’s frame to fill it up. he’s not usually bad  with being alone - he often prefers it, even, there’s a certain peace in the absolute stillness of an otherwise empty house - but recently what is normally the case wars inside of him with something he has come to know as his emotions.

usually a very easily controlled stream of mostly shallow feelings that are easily held back to be able to take on a role; but lately an overwhelming rush of all different kinds of things that he has never had to deal with before.

if he thinks about it more properly, he would say the origin of this insanity lies somewhere many years ago when his mentor died and the first real, heavy emotion he’s felt in his life had washed over him. but it had come and gone, and those days had been mostly a haze of trying to get after the person responsible that jun hardly recalls any of it with much detail.

this time around it feels so much worse. or maybe he’s just imagining it. maybe the width of his feelings is just an illusion.

it doesn’t matter, though. he hasn’t been plagued by any of them anymore since junho basically moved in. the younger male’s clothes now fill up part of his wardrobe, the remnants of another life lived littered around his apartment like a reminder that he’s not alone. a reminder he’s more than grateful for.

especially in moments like this one, where they’ve been watching tv together and junho’s head has slowly made its way from jun’s shoulder to his lap as the younger male progressively went from being fully awake to drifting off to sleep. the entire time, jun’s fingers have been tracing constellations on junho’s skin like a testament to his own temporary insanity.

but suddenly he comes fully back into awareness, like taking the first proper breath of air after having walked through a low-oxygen area for what feels like forever. for the first time his eyes properly take in the head that lies so comfortably on his lap, the young man that is so vulnerably curled up in his couch, so convinced that he is safe within the confines of jun’s presence.

and he is, of course. jun would never reach out even a finger to hurt junho.

but other people have. jun saw it in the lines of junho’s face that first day, when the younger male had shown up on his doorstep with the invisible emotional baggage strapped on his back and the hunched shoulders of someone who didn’t know what else to do. of course he had opened the door a little wider and allowed junho in, but he’d not spoken of the things he’d seen back then.

why? he doesn’t know. because he’d been running on too little oxygen to properly operate his limbs, let alone his brain - or that’s what it feels like now. but he’s better now - if only somewhat - and the slight flutter of junho’s eyelashes tells him junho’s about to wake again, to wander back into awareness the way a moth is drawn to the light.

“hey baby,” he whispers, and the nickname feels a little strange coming from his lips while he’s in this state of mind, but it still fits. because he still cares about junho so much it almost overwhelms him now that he manages to fully feel it again. he strokes the hair out of junho’s face gently, then rests his hand on the younger male’s arm. “are you okay?”