#wooto

Just a reminder that Pentagon loves each other very much.

Not all of these gifs are mine! Credit to all original owners.

Bonus:

pairing(s): jinhongseok / (side) wooto

It’s a dreary sort of day; there’s a sticky feel to it, as if someone cranked the humidity up over the course of the afternoon and left everyone to stew in the heat. To make matters worse, the sky is overcast, shadowing the already drab streets and adding gloom to the fading daylight.

Jinho likes these kinds of days.

He’s hurrying home from the sleepy café halfway across town, bag underneath his arm as he struggles to shove all his notes in and fix the plastic clasp in place. His coffee, now cold, is in his other hand, sloshing around in the cup—dregs, mostly, but Jinho holds on to it like a lifeline.

The clasp clicks into place, Jinho lets out a triumphant noise (something like an appreciative grunt, only in a much, much higher pitch), and he accidentally lets go of his coffee cup, which somehow flies three metres away and spills all over the sides of the nearest building and trickles across the pavement.

He lowers his arms from his victory dance and looks around. The road is, thankfully, devoid of all human life, but he swears he hears the nearby mynah cackle at him. He glares at it, and it tilts its head malevolently towards the coffee.

He sighs, dumps his bookbag on the floor and tries to mop up the distasteful poo-coloured mess with the last of his tissue packs, the conscientious model citizen he is. That’s when he hears it.

Thump.

He looks around, brows furrowed, trying to pick up on the source of the noise. Whatever it is doesn’t sound good.

Thump.

The telltale baritone of a man accompanies the thud, and Jinho hears the rough cadences of the rural dialect. Back of his neck prickling, he inches forward, peering around the large trash collection bin that blots his view of half the alleyway, and immediately wishes he didn’t.

He can only see the foot of a man, but the way it’s angled tells him that the man is sprawled out, and more importantly, there’s the metallic tang of blood in the air. The thumping is more distinct now, and it’s obvious that whoever is around the corner is still going at the almost unconscious man, if the weak, pained moans are anything to go by.

Jinho stuffs his fist into his mouth to stifle a horrified yell and makes to creep away, his sense of self-preservation kicking in, but then he spots a bloodied brick just in front of him and goes rigid, paralysed in fear and shock. The adrenaline coursing through him doesn’t help, just keeps him rooted to the spot, and in the seconds that drag by like hours he faintly registers that the scuffling of footsteps means that there is more than one assailant hidden in the depths of the alley.

He can’t move, can’t run, but the pull of curiosity causes him to inch forward and take a peek. His mind screams with alarm, but he has to know, has to do something…

It’s a strange scene, a man in a suit lying helplessly on the floor in a bloodied state as the two men continue kicking at him, seemingly conversing in low tones about what to do with him. They don’t seem to carry weapons, as far as Jinho can see, except for the gun sticking out of the back pocket of the assailant nearest to him.

Without thinking, Jinho takes the brick is in his hands, automatically sizing the assailants up; thank God there are only two of them . He doesn’t know what he’s doing, the panic is blinding—the man on the floor spots him in his semi-unconscious state, and opens his mouth to mouth help, but Jinho fiercely gestures for silence.

He doesn’t stop to take a deep breath, he has no time to think; he swings his arm backwards and barely has time to think may the odds be ever in my favour, before he pitches the brick towards the thug back-facing him, the one who looks bigger and a lot more aggressive as he lifts his foot to kick at the man on the floor.