Chapter Text
The door to the apartment closed behind him, a low chime following the click of the door lock turning into place; the start of Yunho's daily after work reset. The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic sounds of chopping coming from the kitchen, as the tall alpha moved through the space. The scenic view from the hallway window giving way to the awe striking stage that was the sunset overlooking the Han river. His padded feet were silent, even his conscious footsteps not making much noise as he, unconsciously, pursued the source of the humming from the kitchen, the sliver of light that he craved after having shrouded himself in the mysterious shadow of his profession. Standing in the kitchen, with his back facing the entry, was Mingi, the apple of his eyes, his other half, his treasure, the one and only. Coming up behind the tall blonde omega, his eyes closed in relief as he ignored the yelp of fright as his arms came to wrap tightly around the lithe, thin waist.
"Yunho!" Gentle, moist hands came to grab at his arms, Mingi's tone still sharp from his scare as the omega's body slowly relaxed into the body leaning onto his, "you scared me."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Yunho kept his head nuzzled into the omega's neck, inhaling the sweet and tangy scent of orange cream candy, the rush of memories of a hot summer day at the edge of his mind as he finally let the stress of the day melt away. His mind no longer on project deadlines, event recon, or target profiles. The only thing in his head was his omega, the sweet and comforting scent of oranges, and the passing memory of the fated day in which he ran into the love of his life at a beach club in Jeju. How ironic for his mate to have the same aromatic tinge of orange as the island known for oranges.
"How long until dinner?" The alpha's voice was muffled, the taller man greedily inhaling the younger's scent as the stress of the day bled out from his body.
"Not long now." Mingi replied as he kept his gaze the onion on the cutting board in front of him, his hands moving on instinct slicing the vegetable in a rhythmic trance. "It'll be ready by the time you've showered."
With a heavy sigh Yunho stepped back, hesitant in his movements as his hands dragged across the other's back, fingers dipping into the inside of the blonde's shirt to tease at the sensitive skin on his omega's lower back. Murmuring his approval as he tugged his tie at his neckline, shuffling out of the kitchen into the hallway.
At the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing Mingi looked back, tiptoeing to the edge of the doorway. Peering at the dark hallway the omega heard the slide of the bathroom door, the sound of the water running as the shower was turned on. A quick sigh of relief before Mingi stood taller, his soft and sweet mandarin scent sharpening in citrus as the omega strode back to the counter quickly. Dumping the half chopped onion in the compost trash and quickly opening the cabinets under him. Bringing the plastic bag of takeout and putting it on the counter, Mingi quickly looked back, pausing to hear for the sound of running water, before taking out the tubs of doenjang jjigae, the plastic container of side dishes — all of Yunho's favorites — and the braised tofu and fish. Quickly shuffling all the takeout containers and emptying out the food onto serving plates; pouring the soup into the pot he had left on a low heat to ensure it wouldn't shock the stew, souring the taste.
Looking over his shoulder once more, Mingi closed his eyes as he crushed the styrofoam container and paper bags into the hidden trash bag he kept under the kitchen sink, the sound loud and grating in the silence of the kitchen, and moved to transfer the plates and side dishes to the kitchen table. Washing and drying his hands, the blonde omega perked up at the sound of the water cutting, a silence filling the space before the hums and footsteps of his alpha moving about the room — the alpha likely having left the bedroom door open ajar. Cutting the stove off, Mingi carefully moved the heated pot on a heat plate in the middle of the table before bringing the carafe of water from the fridge. Just as the footsteps headed his way, Mingi righted cutlery placed on the table before turning back to the sink, relaxing his posture as he grabbed some stray cookware to wash. The blond righted his breath, allowing himself one last exhale before he felt the creeping of hands just as Yunho found himself plastered right on the omegas back.
"Smells good baby," Yunho spoke into his neck, pressing light kisses over his blooming scent gland in between each word.
Giggling soft, his cheeks flushed at the compliment even though Mingi knew he smelled the same as he did every other day. Turning in Yunho's embrace Mingi looped his arms around his husband, urging his head down to meet his lips into a soft kiss. The first, after many hours of being apart, was slow, heads turning on their own accord as they melted into each other, like a harbor of light cutting through the fog. Pulling back, Mingi smiled up soft at his alpha as the taller man in his embrace slowly opened his eyes, the tug on his mouth turning into a full smile as the two leaned onto each other, foreheads together as the pair relished in the presence of their shared scent, an herbal and citrus scent all encompassing them in their own little world.
Pulling back, taking in a deep breath of fresh air to clear his pheromone high, Mingi kept his hands loosely over his alpha's shoulders, "Shall we eat?"
Yunho nodded, squeezing Mingi's waist one last time before moving to pull out Mingi's chair, and promptly pushing the chair in once he sat before he rounded the table to take a seat at his seat. Once Yunho had sat Mingi began serving the jjigae as Yunho busied himself with tasting the banchan.
"The spinach namul is good today," Yunho was savoring the dish, his chopsticks nodding in agreement at his own statement. "— did you pick up banchan from your aunts or did you make them this week?"
Mingi bit his cheek at the question, silently patting himself on the back for the great tale he had fabricated in regards to their weekly side dishes.
"Aunty told me to stop by her house yesterday but I didn't get a chance to until today."
Yunho nodded as he tasted the other side dishes before Mingi stole his focus by placing the bowl of steaming soup in front of him. "I can't believe I haven't met this aunt of yours? Her cooking really is amazing."
Mingi's grin tightened a fraction before he laughed, replying, "Well you're always so busy at work, honey, and I usually just go to see her on the route from work."
"Don't remind me," Yunho replied, his lips tugging down into a pout, "it bothers me so much that I have to go away for work so much."
Leaning over the table and reached over to tip the alphas chin, an endeared smile on his face, Mingi replied. "Don't worry about it so much."
"Well, I've already put in that request to not do so much 'away work'," Yunho answered.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Mingi's eyebrows furrowed, concerned at his alphas job suffering just for his passing whim.
"Don't worry about it," Yunho answered, leaning forward as if to sneak in a secret, " since I'm up for the big promotion this quarter. The senior lead position doesn't do any traveling."
Mingi smiled in satisfaction, his scent blooming around them in a sweet honey tinged citrus, at the notion of his husband having more of a presence in their house.
"How was work today?" The blond asked absentmindedly, internally agreeing with his husband, the banchan was really good this week. Mingi needed to pay the chef he had hired an extra tip the following week.
Yunho sat back, arms crossing as he hummed, thinking back at the days events.
A shot split, a vicious snap tearing past Yunho's ear in, a furious a whip crack splitting the air as if a rift was ripping open in the air. Ducking down, stray pieces of plaster coating his hair as the wall behind him as dust and chalk sprayed from the impact of the bullet.
'Shit' Yunho thought, the grip on his gun tightening in anticipation. Adrenaline pumping through his blood as the alpha braced against the concrete before lifting off the wall, firing two shots at the targets direction before ducking down behind the shelf.
"Yunho, just a few moments longer, Seonghwa is on his way there. The target will be taken out by surprise," Jongho's words rang into his ear, the ear piece slightly skewed, as the alpha nodded to himself, another round of bullets inserting themselves into the wall above him, pieces of plaster shattering off the concrete wall.
The silence was loud; Yunho tense in anticipation, breath abated as steps echoed in the darkness of the room. Yunho tried to hear past the rush of blood in his ears as he strained to see within the dark confides of the storage room. The steps neared before they came to a stop, Yunho closing his eyes, steeling himself, the breaths of the target just a few steps away.
The steel industrial door burst open, hitting the wall with a crash as the echo of a gunshot ran. The air was thick, and unmoving, before the 'thud' of a body hitting the floor as the target fell directly in front of Yunho. Yunho released his breath, a long string of air resounding as he finally relaxed at the sight of the target in front of him, no longer a threat.
Turning back at the silhouette Yunho glared, "Took you long enough."
"I made it didn't I?'"
Yunho scoffed at his partners response before rising to his full height to fully turn at the other alpha in the room.
"Barely."
"Work went well," Yunho spoke around his chopsticks, the metal poking into his lip as he spoke.
The smile he received in return didn't arrive all at once. A quiet curve gracing Mingi's face as he murmured his content into his spoonful of soup. Yunho felt his heart squeeze at the sight, the tightness at his chest loosening as he let the day wash away behind him with the sight of his mate. The feeling of sunlight breaking through after a long stretch of dark, gloomy clouds. The world narrowed down to that one, single expression, bright and effortless.
"I'm glad."
Mingi kissed his alpha, a quick peck, bidding his husband farewell before joining the crowd of people rushing to work in the morning. As Mingi moved into the moving mass of bodies he looked back, catching sight of Yunho ducking down into their single car, before facing to join the ever flowing crowd of people. The omega moved with the flow, an average addition to the daily commuters of Seoul. Everything about him in that moment was ordinary and regular, just as he liked for it to be. Mingi looked down to check the phone on the inside of his jacket pocket, careful in his maneuvering with other pedestrians as he walked up the train station escalators, noticing the latest notification before pressing his finger to the edge — dimming the light of the screen to nothing.
The front of the "Thread & Spindle" came into view, his long legs confident in their strides as he neared the entrance. Searching through his shoulder bag, the omega quickly located his decorated keys, the jingle of multiple key chains a striking difference between the hustling noises of the street. The click of the lock releasing the latch prompted him to push the heavily decorated door open; Mingi scoffing as he let go of the heavy door, a quick exhale at the extravagance of the store front door. As if anyone actually came into the store for its business front, Mingi thought.
Letting out a deep breath, finally able to relax at having arriving at the one other place he knew he would be safe from any obstacles, work related or not, the blond omega turned back, locking the door with the same set of keys he'd used to pry the door open. Relishing in the tranquility of the empty shop, a calmness he knew was fleeting, Mingi allowed his shoulders to finally drop. This was the only other place he trusted. The only place that existed outside of shifting alliances and watchful eyes. Safe not because it was impenetrable, but because no one thought it worth noticing.
The shop was dark, but not abandoned. Clean, but not lived in. The air smelled faintly of starch and dust, untouched cotton and cold metal. No lingering perfume of customers. No warmth of recent bodies.
Mingi rolled his neck once and began peeling away his outer layers.
The first jacket to come off was a thick, long wool coat, heavy and structured, still coated in the fragrant herbal scent of his alpha husband. Sage. Cedar. Something darker beneath it. The familiar scent clung stubbornly to the fibers, grounding him as he carefully hung it on the solitary coat rack by the front door. He let his fingers linger against the collar for half a second longer than necessary.
Next came a heavy knitted sweater. Intricate designs twisting across the torso, soft cream thread woven with understated precision. But beneath the craftsmanship were hidden pockets stitched seamlessly into the design, subtle compartments only he knew how to access. Cards. Micro drives. Dime bags of powder sealed in wax paper. Tools disguised as texture. He folded it once and draped it over the chair stationed at the sewing bench, the wood creaking softly under the added weight.
The chill of the shop seeped into his undershirt as he moved deeper inside.
Rows of fabric bundles lined the walls from floor to ceiling — bolts of linen, silk, wool, velvet — arranged by shade rather than type. Muted neutrals; charcoal, dusty rose, deep forest green. Not a single bold color. The palette of a place that didn’t want attention. Workbenches stood sporadically throughout the room, their surfaces wiped clean, sewing machines resting beneath protective covers that hadn’t been lifted in weeks. A mannequin stood in the far corner, half-dressed in an unfinished blazer, pins frozen mid-adjustment like a paused moment in time.
No music played. No clock ticked.
Just the low electric hum of the single light and the sound of his own breathing. Before approaching the back wall, Mingi paused. His gaze swept the room methodically, muscle memory taking over. Gaze covering from corner to corner. He didn’t rush it.
He never rushed it.
Only when satisfied did he reach into his pocket and retrieve the small brass key. Time had worn it smooth. The edges dulled from years of use, but the handle shone bright gold where his thumb habitually rubbed over it. He rolled it once between his fingers before stepping toward the pair of armoire closets positioned against the far wall. They were tall. Ornate in a restrained way. Dark wood polished to a matte finish, carved details subtle enough to appear decorative rather than purposeful.
He stopped at the second one. The key slid into the second key slot with resistance. It jammed momentarily, metal catching against metal, and for a fraction of a second his pulse spiked. Then…
A small, nearly imperceptible beep sounded from within the wood.
Permission granted.
He continued turning the lock until something inside shifted with a heavy internal click. The seam of the wardrobe door loosened. Mingi exhaled once more, quieter this time. He opened the armoire and was met not with hanging coats but darkness, thick and absolute. Cool air brushed against his face from the hidden space beyond. Before stepping through, he looked back one final time.
The shop remained pristine. Silent. Harmless.
A forgotten tailor’s workspace frozen in stillness.
Then the tall blond omega slipped inside the wardrobe, pulling the door closed behind him, and the faint hum of the shop swallowed the last trace of his presence
Yunho watched as Mingi turned one last time in his direction, the omegas eyes spotting his location in the car briefly before turning back to join the crowd of commuters. The alpha waited, closing his eyes in the parked car to gather his thoughts for the day, before looking out into the crowd again. From his elevate standpoint, the corner spot on the second floor garage that Mingi liked to park the car into for their apartment building — 'the side elevator is way less busy plus we leave in a corner apartment don't we?!' the omega had spoken, his eyes lost in the crescent of his smile as he pulled his alpha in the opposite direction of the main elevators — had a great view point. One advantage he hadn't necessarily vocalized to his omega; the instinct to protect, to always be on the look out no matter what, laid low within him.
Every morning the couple parted ways right at the entrance to the buildings garage. Yunho walked his omega down to the entrance, sent him off with a thorough scenting and a kiss as a daily souvenir, before walking up to the second floor of the garage, meeting Mingi's eyes one last time; waiting for his signal.
Today the signal came in the form of another car across the garage beeping, the flashing lights of the car alerting Yunho of his next move. Gathering all of his things, but not before leaving a stray receipt the alpha had kept from a previous mission to stuff it in the cup holder, Yunho exited his car, locking the reasonably sized (and priced) sedan, and moved towards the black, nondescript Genesis waiting for him. Opening the back door and settling into the pristine black leather seats of the car Yunho paid no mind to his destination, the car moving without his concern, as he took out his work phone from his jacket pocket. Just as he was about to turn the phone on his screen lit up with a call.
Shaking his head, unphased at his bosses ability to know his every move, he answered the call.
"Yunho speaking."
"How formal," Kim Kyuwook was a charismatic man, disarming even the most fickle of targets with his charm within minutes. A trait Yunho envied of him, although he knew one day he would have that level of control to his reaction, a natural sort of blasé-faire.
"Is this how you talk to the man that mentored you for the past 6 years now?" His tone was light, waggish with his words, although Yunho knew if Kyuwook was the one calling him the assignment would not be one to take lightheartedly.
"How was I supposed to know it was you?" Yunho replied, level in his response as he stared at the moving scenery out of the car window.
"You don't have my number saved?" the other man seemed appalled but Yunho knew deep down, it was all a facade. Light hearted banter to soften the blow of whatever complicated bullshit was going to be thrown his way. The alpha shook his head in exasperation.
"This is my work phone, I don't have anything saved."
His response got a laugh out of the man on the other side of the line. Yunho let a lingering pause fill the line before continuing, "I'm assuming it's not something that can be discussed on the phone?"
"You would be correct, you are on your main to the main office now. We will be discussing your next assignment in greater detail soon, worry not."
"I wasn't necessarily worried."
"And that's why I insisted you take on this mission."
Kyowook's words gave him pause, a moment of hesitation, as he immediately understood the implications of his words. This was his chance, his moment, to prove to the bureau he was ready to move on from his position. That he was more than just a field agent, a damn good one if he should say so. But Yunho had quickly begun to tire of his volatile and unpredictable job. The alpha was ready; ready to come home to his house every night at the same time, with no unexpected field assignments keeping him from his home, and his sweet, adoring husband. The prospect of having a consistent schedule, planned assignment trips with enough time to give notice and leave behind his omega, and possibly a pup or two, had been looping to the forefront of his mind quite frequently. These days, the tall alpha yearned for another version of his reality.
He imagined another version of himself, one in wrapped around Mingi's slowly swelling belly, sweet orange scent taking a headier, milker version as a little bit of him grew inside of his omega's body. His hands, a steady presence in their strength as he supported the slowly growing aches of a child taking root, and nurturing, inside of the man he loved more than life itself. A manifestation, and amalgamation, of their love together. One that would fill their life with joys and sorrows and confusion and whatever else came with the reality of having a pup dependent on you for their well being and protection.
He imagines small shoes abandoned by the door. Crayon drawings taped crookedly to the refrigerator. The hum of a dishwasher running because dinner was loud and chaotic and wonderful. He imagines pushing open the front door after a long day, shoulders wound tight from the weight of a long days work, and hearing the thud of little feet racing toward him. A child’s voice calling “Dad!” before he even sets his keys down.
He imagines Mingi in the doorway of a softly lit bedroom, holding a sleepy toddler against their shoulder. The soft murmur of bedtime stories. The gentle negotiations over one more glass of juice. The sacred ordinariness of it all.
He doesn’t crave grand milestones. He craves repetition.
He longed for the rhythm of belonging — to be expected home, to have his absence felt, his arrival celebrated. To build traditions that start small and grow roots. Sunday bungeoppang. Backyard birthday parties. The quiet pride of watching someone, a perfect mix between him and his omega, who carried his smile take their first uncertain steps.
Some nights, in the stillness of the bedroom, curtains drawn shut as Mingi dozed on his chest, exhausted from their rounds of love making, Yunho ached. In the quiet, he felt it most sharply: the ache not of loneliness, but of anticipation. A future hovering just beyond reach.
"-unho!" Kyuwook brought the alpha back, blinking past the fleeting images of a future just within his reach.
Shaking his daydreams away, Yunho's gaze sharpened as he understood the significance to this mission. The final piece in his board of chess that would make all of his wistful longings a reality. The quiet, decisive move that would tip the balance from imagining to becoming, from empty rooms echoing with possibility to rooms alive with laughter and light. Yunho understood, that this single assignment had the potential to transform dreams he carried in silence into a living, breathing future — one where the checkmate was not defeat, but the triumph of love settling permanently into place.
"I understand, we will discuss in more detail shortly," Yunho replied evenly, anticipation thrumming in his body at the possibilities his upcoming mission could prevail, the sight of the headquarter building coming into sight.
Shutting the car door behind him, Yunho walked with purpose. Scanning into the building, presenting his badge, pressing his left middle and pointer fingers together for the elevator biometrics to take him all the way to the thirteenth floor, the Special Operations and Intelligence department. Strolling through the open layout of the office floor, Yunho smiled and waved in greeting to his Intelligence analyst, and long time friend, Jongho before continuing all the way to the daunting frosted door, plated with the title — Kim Kyuwook, Director of Operations and Intelligence.
"Yunho, finally you're here," Kyuwook motioned at the steaming cup of coffee, obviously meant for him, "Sit. Let's get down to business"
Yunho chose not to comment on the 'finally', his phone call log last active seven minutes before, and sat in the seat meant for him. Shrugging off his suit jacket, taking a drink of the coffee left for him — the perfect temperature and sweetness, likely left for him by the floors administrative assistant that took care of most personal affairs that agents needed taken care of. Opening the file and flipping through the target profile and findings left cumulated by the departments behavioral and criminal analysts.
Kim Seojun - Chief Financial Officer
'Pyritida Tech - Military Tech and Surveillance Development'
Wanted: Dead
"Kim Seojun, Chief Financial Officer of Pyritida Tech"
Hongjoong's voice rang loud in the silent room, crisp and unyielding, each word striking precisely like a gavel striking a ruling. The overhead lights cast a sterile glow over the spread of documents, turning the table into something that felt less like a meeting space and more like an evidence board laid flat, a projection of the summarized information on the wall behind the short, red headed omega.
Mingi furrowed his brow as he studied the target profile in front of him, eyes scanning line after line of meticulously compiled data. Kim Seojun. 34. Director of Finance to Pyritida Tech, formerly. A few known associates, some name standing out to Mingi more than others. Corporations and public investments laid out plainly for them to digest. What had once read like the résumé of a successful entrepreneur now unraveled into something far more calculated.
"As we all know our Seojun was unexpectedly promoted from Director of Finance to CFO," Hongjoong paused, apprehension apparent as he reported back the latest confirmed intel, "it appears he's gotten ambitious with his goals over the past few months."
"How so?" Yeosang questioned, the striking blond appeared concerned, brows furrowed into a deep V that matched Mingi's own as his eyes moved reading across the surprising target assignment they had just received.
“Three months ago,” Hongjoong began evenly, “his primary account showed a sudden liquidity shift. Forty percent of his holdings transferred out within forty-eight hours.”
Mingi’s finger traced the column of numbers. The withdrawals weren’t reckless — they were surgical. Funds siphoned in increments just below mandatory reporting thresholds. Distributed across newly opened accounts registered under subsidiaries that hadn’t existed six months prior.
"Forty percent?" Yeosang muttered, fingers following the line of transactions, mental math firing as the numbers blared a bright a red flag to the blond alpha. Years of working under Kim Hongjoong as an intelligence analyst allowed him to easily identify a purposeful paper trail left behind by someone hoping to leave people stranded in the labyrinth of his own transactions. "Within two days?"
"Notice the amounts," San said quietly, the first words he'd spoken since he'd arrived at the meeting table directly from a field assignment, "each one, just under the international reporting threshold."
Kim Seojun’s latest bank activities, foreign investment movements, and account access records were laid out plainly on paper, but the simplicity was deceptive. Foreign investments routed through layered intermediaries. Capital injected into infrastructure firms with political ties. Account logins originating from inconsistent locations — Seoul at 09:14, Singapore at 09:52, Moscow by early afternoon. Too fast, too clean. Masked through VPN relays that still left faint fingerprints for anyone patient enough to look.
"… and these shell companies?" Mingi asked, flipping back a page to the reported beneficiary entities.
"All appearing and incorporated between eight to six months ago," Hongjoong replied without hesitation.
San leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on the table as he directed his attention to the peppery scent of his irate leader, "So he's been planning this…"
“And it gets better,” Hongjoong added, though there was no humor in it. The next slide appeared: charitable donations, press coverage headlines, gala photographs.
Yeosang stared. “Those dates…”
“Line up exactly with flagged offshore transfers,” Mingi finished, “Public generosity masking private movement.”
“So what is he positioning for?” San asked, voice low.
Hongjoong didn’t answer immediately. His gaze swept the table, measuring each of them.
“This isn’t panic,” he said at last. “This isn’t embezzlement for personal escape.”
“Then what?” Mingi pressed.
Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.
“This is infrastructure,” he said, “This is someone preparing for impact.”
A beat passed.
“Impact from what?” Yeosang asked.
Hongjoong met his eyes.
“From us.”
"But why?" Mingi couldn't believe it. Kim Seojun had been a steady informant, shady in his sources yet reliable when it came to information. The group never had a reason, or a chance, to doubt the man… had it not been for the string of faulty intel and declination for contact. The man had been a ghost to them for the past three months; odd, considering the amount of public news that had recently been published about him and charities and corporations both Mingi and Hongjoong had reach out over.
"The target has now been confirmed to be working with the WPK and the Ministry of State Security."
Hongjoong didn’t dramatize it. He didn’t need to. A spreadsheet projected against the wall illuminated in red the moments that mattered most: repeated micro-transactions to an offshore account flagged twice before in unrelated investigations. A pattern of withdrawals that coincided precisely with classified shipment schedules that were directed to ports managed solely by the North Korean Ministry of State Security.
"North Korea? Are you serious?" The disbelief in Yeosang's voice was palpable, incredibility bleeding through every pore of his body at the prospect of a, once trusted, contact now working with the Worker's Party of Korea. The words seemed to hang in the air long after he spoke.
“Notice the access logs,” Hongjoong continued, voice lowering slightly.
Hongjoong’s irritation was just as tangible, the omega’s sharp, peppery scent invading Mingi’s nose, cutting through the room like a warning flare. But beneath the irritation was something more dangerous: calculation. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp and distant, already mapping out contingencies, already discarding old plans that had depended on loyalty now proven false. Anger could wait. Damage control could not. This wasn’t a rumor to be dismissed or a misunderstanding to be clarified; it was a conclusion the team had, unfortunately, meticulously come to after a few too many coincidences in which their intel was either leaked or incorrect.
No one spoke.
The chairs around the room scrapped lowly, a grating sound breaking the silence, as those around the table sat and shifted in discomfort. The implications were clear. Not only had an ally defected — he had repositioned. Information possibly leaked, intel spread, their position possibly exposed.
"So you're telling me…" Mingi's voice was rough, demeanor hardened at the information presented to him, the details in the file much more concerning to their agency that most of the occupants in the room could comprehend. "He goes directly from feeding us surveillance projects to working with the North Koreans?"
"It would seem."
Murmurs didn’t follow. No one interrupted. The seriousness of it pressed down on them, heavy and undeniable. This wasn’t a man being careless with wealth. This was choreography.
Mingi leaned back slowly, jaw tense. It wasn’t just the money. It was the intention behind its movement, the foresight. Every action suggested preparation — not panic. Someone carefully positioning assets to end up the winner by any means possible.
The paper in Mingi’s hands no longer looked like financial records.
It looked like a trail.
And trails, when followed far enough, always led somewhere dangerous.
The air in the room had thickened, almost suffocating. This was no dramatic betrayal fit for shouting matches or impulsive retaliation, it was strategic. It required restraint.
"What does the CEO require us to do then?" Mingi's voice ran evenly, his tone never betraying the irritation plucking at his very being. An itch thrummed, the usual scent of his tangy scent turned pungent and acidic, like ants marching in restless circuit just underneath his skin. Persistent. The platinum blond idly thrumming over his fingernails in an attempt to soothe the sensation, the overflowing of emotion at the situation.
Their agency exposed, everything he and Hongjoong had worked so hard to establish. Breaking away from the government agency, choosing to contract independently and maintain a neutral stance as a fountain of knowledge for all the acting intelligence and surveillance agencies in the region of eastern Asia. Hongjoong, the founder of their group, primarily took orders, and payment, from a head government official in Seoul, the CEO as they liked to call him, that dispatched assignments, and the occasional targets, their way.
"The assignment is simple, we must eradicate the threat as quickly and as cleanly as possible."
Silence settled over the table, heavy and deliberate, almost a curtain drawn closed to break the daylight. One by one they began to nod their heads in acceptance. A plan had to be drawn out, information to be discovered, weaknesses to be exploited, and a threat to be eliminated. Eyes that once darted towards one another now held steady, focused, sharpened. The gravity of the situation had carved itself into their expressions, pulling mouths into thin lines and tightening the space between brows.
Each nod felt like the sealing of something unspoken: We understand.
The risk.
The consequences.
"Mingi, you're up first."
At the mention of his name, the omega perked up, attentive as ever to receive his assignment.
"This afternoon an associate of Seojun, who we believe to be his contact with the WPK, will be at an omega auction. You objective is clear. Acquire the target's biometrics and identification information."
"Understood." Mingi nodded, recognizing his efforts would be the most crucial to get directly with the target, who, most likely would be aware of the target he had painted on his own back.
"An omega auction? How sleazy," San jeered, and almost like a cool breeze in a hot summer day, popped the tense bubble of emotions looming over their heads with his words.
Mingi and Yeosang chuckled at the unexpected comment as the tension of the target reporting bled from Hongjoong's shoulders. The situation was clinical now, no longer personal to any of them. The target had been identified and surveyed, now all that stood was determining their plan of action.
"Focus," Hongjoong chided, walking around and tapping the top of the feline alpha's head, before turning his attention back to Mingi.
"The first step is easy, I'm sure you can figure out how to procure the biometrics from the target easily enough. One thing to note though, this particular associate has a preference for taller omegas —"
"Well Mingi, looks like you have this one in the bag," Yeosang snickered as he nudged Mingi's side with his elbow.
"— but he mostly seeks the company of omegas that are particularly hairless." Hongjoong finished, cheeks reddening at the implications he had laid out for Mingi.
The silence was loud in the room as the occupants in the room registered what Hongjoong was trying to say. Mingi groaned in annoyance, dropping his head heavy on the table, a loud thunk resonating in the room, as Yeonsang swallowed his snickers next to him.
"So he likes them tall but also shaved like a mole rat — not sure if this guys sleazy or if he's onto something," San wondered, scratching his head as he heedless thought out loud.
Hongjoong's face palm rang loud in the room.
The target file sat on the counter, the fluorescent bathroom light had Mingi squinting as he stared blankly around the empty bathroom space. Next to his target file and mission briefing sat a box with its contents strewn about as Mingi read the instruction paper that came with the box — colored hairspray. The aerosol canned spray unsettled him, the product making it's presence known as the omega read the package insert and instructions.
Hongjoong had assigned Mingi a recon mission, one with a rather short turn around time. Under normal circumstances Mingi wouldn't have thought twice over changing his appearance. Having just learned the specifications of the siltation, the circumstances surrounding their target, and the 'closing' target date Mingi had slightly hesitant in changing his appearance so early on for reconnaissance, so early in the assignment. But their target was moving fast, making plans on disappearing, and the window to approach him socially was slim. If they wanted access to Kim Seojun, his locations and his whereabouts, they needed to act now.
Which meant, having to parade Mingi off in an omega auction to a close confidant of Kim Seojun.
How will I explain to Yunho if I can't get this out of my hair, Mingi was mourning his blond level ten already. The omega could have never anticipated what might have been waiting for him this morning as he came into work, just as any other day. He hadn't anticipated needing to change his appearance. Usually, when there was a possibility of a spontaneous appearance change for his field work he would drop a few sly and crafty comments on craving to change his appearance. His husband was usually quick on the uptake, and always made sure to compliment the random hair and eyebrow color changes that was required of any field work or assignment.
The omega looked at himself in the bathroom mirror; fluffy platinum blonde hair, bleached trimmed eyebrows, plush pouty lips — slightly glossy from his favorite clear lip gloss — and slim dragon eyes stared back at him as his brought his hand up to finger at his blond locks.
What a shame, Mingi thought, I worked so hard to reach this level of blond.
Reading the hair spray insert one last time Mingi brought the aerosol can to his head, spraying the deep blueberry blue color on his head. With a bristle brush in his other hand, the omega brushed thorough the color depositing spray as he sprayed the aerosol evenly. The change was striking, a completely different person staring back at him — even with only a minute change of appearance. Which… was the point. Brushing the color in his hair evenly, finding a hand mirror in the drawers of the counter to turn back and double check the back of his head, making sure he was thorough in his color application. Mingi paid no mind to the sound of the door opening.
"Oh wow," Hongjoong's voice was filled with mirth. Mingi ignored it, disregarding his oldest friend, and boss, as he mussed with his hair. Long, nimble fingers coming up to smooth the front pieces of his hair into place. "What do you think Yunho will say?"
"Does that really matter right now?" Mingi rolled his eyes at the question, slightly miffed as he stared back into the mirror, his fluffy blond hair fully masked by a blueberry color.
"You don't think he'll say anything?"
Still not gracing the other omega any answers Mingi looked back through as he began to flip through the assignment requirements.
Preference for exotic omegas, mostly bare.
The words on the file were slightly perturbing to Mingi, in both their implications and consequence.
"Do I really have to?" Mingi asked, head tipping back as he closed his eyes in dread.
"I fear so," Hongjoong said.
The thunk of the bottle against the counter echoed a little too loudly in the tiled bathroom. Mingi closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through his nose, as if patience could somehow be summoned like oxygen.
The bullshit I do for this job…
When he finally opened his eyes, the object sitting on the counter looked almost offensively cheerful. A bottle of Nair hair remover stood there in bright, garish pink and blue plastic, its rounded shape and bubbly lettering promising easy, efficient hair removal. A little diagram on the front proudly advertised it as specifically formulated for the bikini area.
Mingi stared at it like it had personally insulted him.
“This is bullshit, by the way,” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed the bottle, turning it over to read the instructions on the back with a growing look of betrayal. The longer he stared, the more his eyebrows pulled together. Behind him, leaning casually against the doorframe, Hongjoong looked far too entertained.
“What can I say?” Hongjoong said with a shrug that carried absolutely zero sympathy. “You’re the most exotic omega we have.”
Mingi shot him a glare over his shoulder.
“Just need you bare.”
Mingi wanted, deeply wanted, to slap the smug smirk right off Hongjoong’s face. Instead, he turned toward the shower, gripping the handle harder than necessary as he twisted the tap. The pipes groaned faintly before hot water began to rush through the shower head. Steam immediately started to curl upward; he cranked the temperature higher.
“Yunho will probably complain more about this than the hair,” Mingi said flatly as he started stripping off his clothes.
Hongjoong snorted, trying and failing to hold it in.
Mingi kicked his pants aside and reached for the hem of his shirt, his movements brisk with annoyance. Steam began to fog the mirror, blurring the sharp lines of his reflection. Even irritated, Mingi carried himself with the kind of unconscious grace that came from years of turning heads and catching people's attention.
Hongjoong glanced down at the bottle of Nair again, then back at Mingi.
That was it.
The laugh broke free.
Mingi paused halfway through pulling his shirt over his head and glared at him again. Hongjoong pushed off the doorframe, still grinning, utterly delighted by the suffering he’d caused.
Truthfully, he was having the time of his life.
Mingi cared about his appearance — a lot. Always had. The omega was meticulous about it in a way that was almost impressive. Clothes tailored just right for his tall frame. Hair carefully maintained. Skin routines. Accessories chosen with deliberate taste. He had always been just a tad particular
He thrived off it… The compliments, the attention, the subtle admiration.
Especially the praise from his alpha husband.
Hongjoong knew Mingi pretended not to care sometimes, but it was obvious how much it mattered to him when Yunho would run a hand down his waist or murmur something approving under his breath.
"I mean," Hongjoong was so deeply amused, entertained at the strife he was putting his slight vain friend through. Mingi standing barefoot in a steamy bathroom, holding a bottle of drugstore hair removal cream like it had personally betrayed him. " — congratulations on having one of the rare ones, i guess"
"What do you mean?" Mingi asked his focus still on the running water in front of him.
"Don't most alpha's like them bare?"
"Huh!" Mingi turned to face Hongjoong then, an incredulous look on his face at the statement he was face with. "Are you only sleeping with creepy, traditionalist or something?"
"As if," Hongjoong scoffed. "I'm just saying, they usually like bare omegas no?"
"Don't make assumptions about my husband," Mingi replied, irked at the insinuation.
Raising his hands in defeat Hongjoong left the room, leaving an irritable Mingi to continue his mission preparations.
"Whatever..." Mingi muttered, prepping his mind, body, and soul as he began to apply the Nair to his perfectly neat and groomed pelvis.
Closing the steam bathroom door behind him, Mingi towel dried his hair as he walked across his dimly lamp-lit bedroom. Walking through the empty room, using a hand on the wall as a guide to the light switch, the omega wondered what time his husband would get home as he turned on the ambiance lights in the room, a low and warm yellow light glowing from under and around the bedroom furniture. Mingi had arrived from his successful field assignment in hurry — target drugged and knocked out, finger imprints and biometrics saved and stored — yet before he had realized the dark and empty apartment was all that was waiting for him. Having taken the quickest, and least helpful, shower back at headquarters the omega had decided he would do a second attempt at removing the blue color from his hair. The industrial washes and soap were better suited for stripping dirt and blood than something as delicate and finicky as hair dye.
Which was why Mingi had attempted a second round of damage control, hoping the high end products from his own personal collection would do something to tackle, and clear out, the color spray from his locks. Still, as Mingi pulled the towel off his head, the ends of his blond hair stained with blue, darker the further down they went. Damp strands of hair fell messily around his face and shoulders, water dripping down his neck slowly. For a moment the omega just stared back at his own reflection.
"Shit..." Mingi muttered. He leaned into the mirror and lifted a strand of hair between his fingers.
He was blonde again…
Mostly.
"You're blue!" The sudden voice shattered the quiet of the room.
The voice, and statement, startled the omega so badly his elbow bumped into the vanity table. The jolt sent various skincare products and makeup tumbling off the edge as Mingi brought a hand to the vanity to stabilize himself. His heart pounding loudly in his ears as Mingi turned back to come to face his sheepish and tired looking husband.
"My bad," Yunho said as he approached Mingi, wrapping his arms around the blond's slim waist, fingers settling just over the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Mingi scoffed, eyes rolling, yet still pulling his alpha closer as hands trailed up day's worn button up. "Why are you creeping about the apartment, when did you even get here?"
Yunho leaned down, meeting Mingi for a soft welcoming kiss, his hands spreading out to feel at the warm tan skin calling his attention, before reaching up to thumb at the blue ends that had shocked him at first glance. "You're blue…"
"I know," Mingi said, looking to the side as he rested his head forehead on Yunho's shoulder, eyes unfocused. "It's all Hongjoong's fault."
"What happened now? Don't tell me you guys go into those silly bets again."
"Silly," Mingi murmured softly into Yunho's shirt, his scent shifting as he let his irritation be shown once more. Yunho chuckled at the sour undertone bleeding into his omega's scent, looking down to catch Mingi's eyes going distant, the way they did when he let himself get lost in thought.
"Alright," Yunho stepped back, a smile settling into place at the sight of Mingi's bratty pout, likely from having been displaced from 'his favorite place'. "I am going to go take a quick shower."
"Long day?" Mingi asked, his orange scent threading the space around them as he instinctively reacted with a calming tactic.
"Longer than ever."
Yunho didn't elaborate, pulling his tie off his head and placing it over the vanity chair before entering the still damp and steamy bathroom.
"Hurry and I'll make you feel better."
The alpha smiled at the words as he turned the knobs of the shower, plumbing creaking under the pressure of rushing water. The pipes rattled for a moment before the shower head sputtered to life, a steady stream of hot water splashing against the tile as steam began to rise again. Yunho stepped under the spray with a quiet exhale, tilting his head back as he felt the water on his skin. Letting the heat run down his shoulders and down his back until the tension melted eased away from his muscles.
Eventually, the alpha reached out and twisted the tap closed, ears straining to pick up on any sound or noise coming from the room. I hope Mingi didn't fall asleep, Yunho thought as he waited for the water to cease. A moment later, the water cut off with a final splutter. Yunho stepped out, water dripping from his hair and shoulders as he grabbed a towel, drying his body before wrapping the towel around his hips. Noticing the water from his wet hair dripping down his back, the alpha paused a moment before bracing his body to the cold of the bedroom to roughly drag a towel through his hair until it was barely just damp.
Stepping out into the room, Yunho noticed the ambiance lights were dimmed almost all the way off, barely a glimmer in the outline of the room as he approached the body covered up under the blankets.
"Did you fall asleep?"
The words had their intended affect, the lump squirming under the blankets until hands came out first before his husbands mesmerizing eyes were peering him, covers pulled all the way up to Mingi's nose.
Paying no mind to Mingi's odd behavior, Yunho untied the towel at his hip and threw it on the floor before attempting to pull up the covers.
Attempting…
Mingi didn't budge, hands gripping at the blanket tightly to his body as Yunho blinked owlishly at him, head tiled in such a manner that the omega was reminded of a confused puppy tilting it's head to the side.
"There… might have been something else," Mingi said lowly, his orange candied scent wavering around him as a flush started spreading his his face and, the now slight exposed, neck.
"What else?" Yunho asked.
Mingi looked to the side, embarrassment slowly rising in his scent as he let go of his grip on the blankets, resigning himself to the situation. Meanwhile, Yunho steeled himself; breathing in deeply, a control exercise repeating in his head as he willed his rising alpha instincts at bay. The alpha stood, naked for a second in contemplating before finally tugging at the blankets and lifting them away to reveal Mingi's naked body. The alphas eyes slowly, and precisely, began mapping up the omega's smooth legs, his powerful thighs that Yunho loved to rest his head on, flush pink folds nestling a smaller omega cock, and —
Yunho felt his knees buckle, falling to the edge of the bed as he allowed the mattress to support his body weight. Blushing, Mingi hid his face in his hands with an exasperated groan as the omega felt one large hand grab at his ankle, pulling his legs apart to reveal him more clearly to his husband.
"It's gone," Yunho mumbled, face crumbling in distress at the sight of the bare skin above his husbands cock. Skin which usually held the neatly trimmed and groomed pubic hair that Mingi kept and maintained… at Yunho's request. "My masterpiece, she's gone"
"Oh for fucks sake," Mingi snapped, face flushed red with embarrassment, laying back, adjusting, as Yunho climbed the bed and settled between the omegas plush thick thighs. "It'll grow back."
"But she's gone! You're bald!"
Mingi grabbed one of the king sized pillows, using all of his might to smack his alpha husband with the rather hefty pillow. Said husband, falling to the bed in despair as he lay there dramatically.
Yunho grabbed at Mingi's body, pulling at his arms and handling him back so their bodies never lost contact. The omega settling into the alpha's lap as he consoled his alpha mate and his crocodile tears, hands carding through the rich brown hair as Yunho fake sniffled directly into Mingi's scent glands.
"There, there," Mingi said, rolling his eyes as he patted Yunho's head, his sweet candied orange scent flaring around them as Yunho began to trail kisses up and down Mingi's neck — laving at the sweet oils produced from his marked mating gland, "My hair grows fast. It'll be back before you know it."
Yunho hummed in acknowledgment, the alpha already lost to the sensation of Mingi's quickly slicking folds cradling his alpha cock, their hips falling into a natural rhythm as Mingi rocked back and forth at the rock, hard member in between his legs. Sights of pleasure escaped the blonds mouth as he closed his eyes, head leaning back to bare his neck a Yunho's possessive administrations, sinking into the sensations as arousal clouded his head. Slick began to leak, frothing messily between them as Yunho's cock moved instinctively to the movement of Mingi's hips, bucking up to try and catch the head of his cock on Mingi's winking, hot entrance.
Gathering Mingi in his arms, pressing their bodies better together the pair sighed into each others mouths as finally — finally — Yunho's cock caught at the suction of Mingi's wanting hole, the two melting together into a sloppy, slick kiss as Mingi sank down slowly, letting gravity to it's job, the alpha's throbbing reaching deep inside, tip just barely kissing at the deep barrier of his cervix.
"Ah~," Mingi sighed, separating from Yunho's all encompassing kiss to catch his breath, walls clenching down greedily as he allowed himself to really feel and connect with the sensations of the alpha's cock, prompting the sparks of ember to spread from his core his entire body. Yunho stayed still, the alpha enjoying the sensation of coming home to his home, the connection of their baser instinct as he relished in the feeling of his cock in the warm and safe confides of his mates pussy. "So deep tonight"
Huffing in amusement, Yunho watched; his lids heavy with arousal as his burning gaze ran over Mingi like a brand. The alpha's large hands pawing and kneading at the soft flesh under his hands, prompting Mingi to lean back in an attempt to lift himself; just a tad. The following drop was quick, the alpha's cock pulling out just half way before Mingi was dropping down in a sharp manner, not able to bear the thought of being separated from his husband's touch deep inside of him for too long. Quickly, the two lost themselves to the push and pull of their pleasure. Moans and grunts shared in the space between long, sloppy kisses.
"Feels so good tonight," Yunho murmured, his breath warm across Mingi's cheek, his herbal sage scent veering to the hot, warm scent of toasted oak as the alpha drew nearer to his orgasm, knot hinting at it's presence with an increasing tug at Mingi's entrance. "Gonna knot."
Mingi whimpered, head nodding in a desperate agreement, fingers digging his Yunho's shoulders — nails racking across the alpha's back at the blooming sensations spreading from across his body, skin flush and hot as blood rushed through him at his approaching climax. He felt mindless with pleasure, the intimacy of their coupling and the love felt for the alpha inside of him amplifying the sensations tenfold.
"Yunho..." the cries for his alpha were met with a deep kiss, his gasps for breath stiffled every time as he was overwhelmed as Yunho picked up the pace, using his strength to aid Mingi in rising and dropping down onto his cock. The alpha now deep, consistently slamming into the entrance of his womb, stealing every breath he attempted to take in. "I'm gonna come."
Mingi's warning was all it would take, his body tightening, as his constricting, fluttering walls enticed the alpha to finally knot his pussy full.
"That's right baby, come for your alpha."
Pulled tight into a back arch, a silent scream escaped Mingi as he felt his pussy squirting all over his alphas abdomen, the feeling of Yunho's knot sealing his entrance and slowing down the gush of slick as his orgasm overtook his body. He was desperate for breath as his alpha bit down, reopening his mating mark as endorphins overtook his body, black spots filling his vision whilst his orgasm finally abated.
Breathing through the crests of his orgasm, Mingi was acutely aware of his alpha's cock filling him to the brim, slick and seed seeping from around the tight lock of his pussy's entrance, with no where else to go. Pulling Yunho into a breathless kiss once more, Mingi slumped forward, letting Yunho pull him into a tight embrace as the taller man leaned all the way, laying on the propped up pillows on the bed. Closing his eyes, cheek rest on his alpha's bare shoulder, Mingi simply let himself feel; the mix of their mated scents drawing him into a sleepy lull.
"I wonder," Yunho spoke, his voice sounding far away to Mingi, the omega basking in the after glow of their lovemaking, "What was worth betting your hair and your bush?"
Drawing up in a huff, glaring at his husband, Mingi brought his hand up and flicked at Yunho's forehead, right in between the alphas eyes.
"Ow," Yunho chuckled as he covered Mingi's hand with his own, more shocked at the action than the pain.
"Just be quiet," Mingi huffed once more, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the direct source of the comforting and safe scent of his husband. "Enjoy it while it lasts."
Silence filled the room, Yunho not dignifying his bratty response, although Mingi knew the alpha wasn't done talking, arms tense from where they were sweeping hands up and down the omega's back. Mingi waited, hoping that Yunho was done commenting on the situation but no such luck.
"Can I eat you out later?" the alpha asked, nuzzling the now dried and frizzy blond and blue locks. "I haven't eaten naked puss in a while now."
Yunho's body jumped at the answering pinch he received, the sudden sting catching him off guard.
The wind carried salt and rust, the silence of the night embracing the empty container yard as Yunho watched, contemplated. The alpha stood on the edge of a warehouse roof, a vantage point quickly identified upon arrival.
'A blind lead', they'd said. An informant supplying the location of a possible possible lead on their target. Recently promoted, and very generous with donations, Kim Seojun was proving to be a personal nuisance to the Director of Operations and Intelligence. And now, it was Yunho's job to deal with a target with, possibly, too much information on his boss and entire team.
"Handle this. We must eliminate this liability"
Yunho understood what Kyuwook was referring to, eyes darting back and forth to the information on his next target. The target, a once insider agent working for them on the governments military upcoming tech projects, was taking bribes and making moves to disappear from the forefront.
"He's been slick with his moves. Calculated monetary movements that get more complicated the more you trace back their pattern. I have dealt with this target personally. He will be willing to sell any and all information to secure his standing."
"And we're sure he's working with multiple different factions and international agencies," Yunho asked, apprehension apparent at having to 'deal' with a once trusted informant. In their line of work, trust was critical.
"He'd already been working with multiple agencies before, but those I was aware of and could trust would not clash with out work," Kyuwook paused, taking a sip of his coffee as he swiveled his chair to gaze out of the floor to ceiling windows in his office, the view breathtaking and light, a direct contrast to the conversation and mood inside of the office. " — but I no longer have any confidence in his ability to keep information separate. Remember Yunho, knowledge is power."
Yunho nodded his assent, his herbal sage scent flaring out as he acquiesced himself to his assignment before reigning his scent back in tightly. This was his final step to the life he yearned for, the quiet divisive threshold between dreaming of stability and finally claiming. and he would everything in his power to make sure it all went right. The future he envisioned— the safety, the permanence, the quiet happiness he wanted to build — depended on precision. There would be no hesitation, no room for mistakes.
And he would do everything in his power to ensure it went right.
Floodlights washes the rows of containers in industrial white, yet leaving the corridors woven in between in corridors of shadow. Forklifts sat idle like sleeping insects, dormant praying mantis awaiting their call strike. A crane arm creaked lazily somewhere down the port, the only sign of life in the empty, hollow void of the port shut down for the night.
A blind lead.
Yunho scoffed, looking down to catalogue his weapons, his switch knife tucked into his black boots, a sleek black gun heavy in his hand. The alpha looked up to scan the area again. Two entry points, each with their own guard station, two active loading bays on the east side. An office trailer to the south, windows blacked out. Camera clusters mounted high intermittently on light poles. No visible guards, no perimeter control, no patrol pattern.
A flicker of movement cut between two containers, Yunho's eyes flickering to the movement. A shadow moved on the ground where there shouldn't have been one.
Low. Controlled. Precise.
Not a worker, workers lumbered — their boots clanging on the ground clumsily as they maneuvered all the heavy equipment strapped to their bodies. This shadow threaded between containers with deliberate silence, clinging to the blind spots between cameras.
Yunho stilled, watching with his breath abated, as the figure slipped through a narrow corridor between stacks, then vanished completely. The tall alpha exhaled slowly, once, and moved. The metal ladder down the warehouse wall vibrated softly under his boots. Dropping down the last six feet, landing between two concrete barriers. By the time he reached the corridor where he last saw the movement, it was empty.
Of course it was, Yunho cursed softly under his breath. Moving past corridors blindly, not knowing where the figure might have gone, Yunho scooped out for any possible sights of the shadow skulking through the empty yard.
Nothing.
No doors ajar, no movements, no echoes of retreating steps. Just silence and dust settling into the darkness of the night. For a moment, the yard was so silent the alpha could hear the beat of his own pulse. Yunho straightening slowly, irritation tightening at his jaw. Either he'd imagined a ghost or someone, whoever it was, know the grid better than he did.
The realization settled uncomfortably on his being. He pivoted back, scaling up a stack of pallets on the side of the warehouse. Not so high up as before, easier to access the ground, but still viewing the yard from a regained elevation. From higher ground the maze of containers and pallets made sense. Then Yunho saw it — him. The shadow.
Halfway down the third row, barely just visible from his vantage point. A dark red container, paint slightly newer then the others.
PTech
The figure stood flush up against it's side door, almost absorbed by the shadow. Yunho dropped down, with quiet and efficient steps, getting closer to the figure as they stood up to the door, back turned towards him. Up close, the figure resolved into details.
Tall, lithe, a sinful waist cutting the line of his silhouette. Dark blue hair, almost the color of a ripe blueberry, with long fringe hiding the eyes from sight. Yunho scented the air, hoping the figure was absentminded with their scent suppressants but no such luck. The air in the night was stale, settled from the dust and lack of movement for so long. The figure tilted his head, caught in a sliver of light, as Yunho finally noticed the biometric panel mounted beside the container door.
Biometrics…
on a freight container.
Interesting.
Yunho watched as the lithe man pressed something small against the scanner. Not his hand, a fabricated print overlay. The panel emitted a soft confirmation chirp, barely audible, before the lock disengaged with a muted click. He opened the door only a fraction — just enough space to turn sideways and slip through. The movement was liquid, practice.
The door sealed shut, closing with a soft thud. By the time Yunho had reached the container, the lock had reset. No visible tampering, no apparent external overside. The alpha tested the handle, moving it lightly and slowly.
Sealed.
For a moment Yunho considered forcing the entry, irritation quickly growing underneath and gnawing at his alpha instincts. Frustration bleeding into the edges of his rational thought.
So he waited. Positioning himself just one corridor down, half concealed behind a stack of plastic-wrapped crates, with a clear view of the biometric guarded door. He waited, thirty minutes, then forty.
Just as he began calculating whether an alternate exit had been used, the door clicked. Opening with the same precise fraction and he slipped out. This time, his right hand clenched tightly around something small enough to be concealed completely. Before entering both hands had been empty, the biometric overlay likely pasted to his fingertips previously.
He didn't check the yard immediately, didn't scan like someone expecting trouble.
Which meant either he was reckless…
or he knew exactly who was and wasn't there.
Yunho stepped forward from the shadows, recognizing his chance.
"Evening."
The figure didn't startle, didn't look his way, simply pivoted and ran. Fast.
Yunho followed, boots striking loudly on the asphalt, closing dis tenace as he cut between the idle forklifts and stacked drums. The other man used the machinery well — forcing tight angles and breaking sight lines. The alpha adjusted his trajectory, meaning to intercept rather than trail. The floodlight caught him mid-stride.
Tall. Lithe, a slim waist under a fitted jacket. Powerful thighs driving each push-off with explosive precision. No wasted efforts.
Somehow… familiar.
The rhythm of his movements tugging at something at the back of Yunho's memory.
The figure turned sharply around a cargo. Yunho accelerated, predicting the exit angle. By the time the other man rounded the far side, Yunho was already there. Their bodies colliding, not clumsily nor accidentally. A calculated impact.
Yunho's shoulder drove into his side; the other man's forearms snapped up to deflect the alpha's grip. Their bodies staggering into the aluminum wall of a container with a dull metallic boom, the momentum of their collision.
Up close, the other man was controlled tension, solid muscle beneath lean lines, face obscured by the shadow of his fringe and high jacket collar. Yunho, focused, caught his wrist — the one clutching the small object. The other man twisted, not necessarily in a move to overpower him, but to break alignment. His free hand struck toward Yunho's throat; the alpha ducked back just enough, evading the strike, countering with a low sweep meant to destabilize his base.
The other shifted weight just in time, the sweep clipped at his ankle but didn't drop him. Then, he drove an elbow into Yunho's ribs. Yunho grunted, pain, and his strong sage scent, flaring around them as the alpha took the brunt of the hit and tightening his grip on the wrist. For a split second, the alpha could almost feel the object in his fist. Hard edged, rectangular. A thumb drive? A key? He couldn't tell.
Then the man did something Yunho would have never predicted. He let him keep his harsh grip on his wrist. And used the momentum to spin.
His body rotated under his arm, forcing Yunho to either release or dislocate his shoulder. In that moment the alpha was conflicted, mind fractured in the decision of possibly harming somebody that seemed so familiar to him. Yunho released his grip.
The other man shoved at his chest with controlled force. Yunho stumbled back, surprised at his own instinct that led to release the arm. The figure twisted free, slipping from his grasp with infuriating precision.
Still no clear look at his face, no scent coming off his body. Every angle obscured — chin tucked, head turned, body always angled away.
He sprinted, dashing in his escaped. Yunho followed immediately, lungs burning with effort now, adrenaline sharpening everything. Clearing a waist-high barrier, Yunho vaulted over the lithe figure with precision. The sound of gravel flying as rocks and dirt lifted up in his escape. He reached a gap between two outbound containers, Yunho five steps behind, arms reaching out as he strained to have the man back within his grasp.
Four.
Three.
The blue haired man grabbed a hanging chain and swung around the container corner instead of running straight through. It was enough, it bought him enough time.
By the time Yunho rounded the comer, the access way beyond lay open and empty.
No movement
No blue hair.
No retreating footsteps.
Gone.
Yunho stood, breathing controlled despite the burning in his lungs, fingers still tingling from the brief contact. The man kept the object, and had chosen escape over confrontation the moment the alpha had revealed himself.
Which meant he'd recognized a risk, had revealed to Yunho that this was just another step in their direction towards the target. And that adjustment carried weight. Because if this was only one step in their direction toward Kim Seojun, then they weren’t the only ones moving.
More than one agency was circling Kim Seojun.
Which meant the hunt had just become crowded — and far more dangerous.
Blind lead, Yunho scoffed again. Right.
The container smelled like iron and old rain.
Mingi had slipped inside two rows down from the yard’s perimeter, pulling the door closed just enough to swallow the light without sealing himself in completely. Darkness folded around him, thick and absolute, broken only by a thin blade of an industrial-white glow slicing in through the seam. He'd crouched immediately. Back against corrugated steel. Head bowed. One hand braced on the floor to steady the tremor running through it.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Out.
The chase still roared in his ears. Boots on asphalt. The metallic crash of bodies against container siding. The sharp exhale forced from his lungs when they collided. His other hand was locked tight around the thumb drive.
He hadn’t loosened it once. Slowly, he lifted his head. The container was empty. No crates. No pallets. Just hollow space and the faint echo of his own breathing. Every sound felt amplified — fabric shifting, pulse pounding, the small scrape of his boot as he adjusted his balance.
He opened his fist just enough to see it.
Small. Black, almost unremarkable. Catastrophic in the wrong hands.
His fingers curled back over it.
Because the object wasn’t what had shaken him. It was the impact. He had known the moment their bodies met. Not from sight, the omega had avoided that deliberately. Chin tucked. Face turned. Movement angled away. Even in close quarters, he’d kept himself obscured.
But proximity was merciless.
The scent reached him first. Sage and bergamot, a tinge of cedar — clean, grounding — tinged with gun oil and the sharp, salty edge of sweat earned in pursuit. It hit him like memory given form. His breath had faltered mid-strike. Then the grip — precise, yet so familiar. He would know that hold anywhere. His heart had dropped so violently he’d nearly misstepped. And when he’d allowed himself the briefest fraction of a glance…
There was no mistake.
His husband, his alpha. Yunho.
The world felt enormous inside the hollow container.
Married three years. They didn’t ask about work. Never asking specifics or indulging too much over work. Choosing to enjoy the time spent in each other's presence, and arms, without asking for too many specifics about their line of work. It had always seemed convenient to Mingi, the way he rarely had to carefully craft a web of lies to a question his husband asked, simply because Yunho rarely asked.
He let out a quiet, unsteady breath that fogged briefly in the cold air.
He could have broken the hold. He’d had the angle. He could have driven his elbow harder, shattered ribs, disabled pursuit entirely.
He hadn’t.
He could have turned at the container gap. Forced a confrontation. Demanded answers.
He hadn’t.
Because if he’d seen his husband’s face under those floodlights… If he’d watched recognition dawn on his handsome face, puppy eyes opened wide in recognition. He wasn’t sure he would have run. And hesitation could get them both killed in this line of work.
His grip tightened painfully around the drive.
If Yunho had been sent there tonight, then he didn’t have the full picture. He could have set a perimeter. Coordinated over watch, back up to apprehend any suspicious bodies moving about the container yard and warehouse. Might have anticipated the biometric bypass.
He hadn’t.
Which meant Mingi was holding information his own husband didn’t have. It meant Yunho was operating blind. The thought hollowed him out. The target and his benefactors were meeting in shipping containers. Trading data in silence. Keeping data in idle computers disguised as shipping record keeping.
The steel wall at his back felt suddenly too thin. He pressed his head against it anyway, eyes closing briefly as the reality settled like weight on his chest. The most dangerous part of tonight hadn’t been the chase. It had been the recognition. Because now the mission wasn’t just compromised. It had become personal.
And he didn’t know which would break first —
The operation.
Or his marriage.
Suddenly, Mingi's phone vibrated in his pocket, the buzzing in the lower pocket of his cargo pants, persistent over the surface of a blossoming bruise. Dropping the thumb drive and pulling his phone out of his pocket the omega froze. The screen lit his face in the dark, a picture of him and his alpha happy, nestled into their nest, chest bared for the camera angle; Yunho. For a second, he just stared the name, his citrus scent turning sour around him as he had finally ripped the scent patch off his throbbing, irritated skin.
Of course.
He swallowed dryly and answered, forcing his voice to be steady before lifting the phone to his ear.
"Hey"
The background noise hit him immediately — city traffic rushing past, the distant wail of a siren, a crosswalk signal chirping. Muffled voices. A car door slamming somewhere close to the microphone. He pictured it effortlessly. Streetlights reflecting off glass buildings. The hum of evening life.
Yunho had made it back to the city.
“You free?” Yunho’s voice came through warm, level — maybe a little tired. “I just wrapped up at work. Thought we could grab dinner. I know it's a little late but it's still Thursday night. We can go to that all night ramen place you like.”
Normal. Completely, devastatingly normal.
Mingi closed his eyes.
He could see him standing on the sidewalk, one hand in his coat pocket, scanning casually out of habit. Sage and bergamot still clinging to his collar. Probably unaware that, maybe two hours ago, he’d had his husband pinned against a shipping container.
Pinned.
His pulse stumbled again.
“I —” He had to clear his throat, swallowing roughly once. “I can’t tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Something came up at work.” The lie formed too easily. He hated that. “Last minute complication. Hongjoong and I are working through the night.”
The container suddenly felt smaller. Metal walls pressing in as if they could hear him.
“I’m going to stay at Hongjoong's apartment for tonight,” he continued. “Possibly tomorrow, maybe.”
Another pause.
He strained to hear what wasn’t being said over the rush of traffic.
“That bad?” Yunho asked lightly.
“Yeah,” The word scraped on the way out. “Yeah. It’s… messy. A high end client, Hongjoong and I are handling it personally.”
That much wasn’t a lie.
On the other end, a faint exhale. He could almost see the nod that probably accompanied it.
“Alright,” Yunho acquitted. “You want me to bring anything by before you lock yourself in? Clothes? Food?”
The offer landed like a bruise.
He imagined his alpha showing up. Standing too close. That scent wrapping around him again. The impossible effort it would take not to search his face for recognition.
“No,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. He forced himself to soften it. “No. I’m good. We've got it covered.”
A hummed in acknowledgment. A familiar, thoughtful sound.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
The question nearly undid him.
Because Yunho meant it, he had no idea.
Because a few hours ago they had collided like enemies, and now his husband was concerned over his well being.
“I’m fine,” Mingi replied, hating how thin it sounded even to his own ears. “Just tired.”
Another stretch of city noise filled the line, a bus braking, footsteps passing close to the microphone.
“Call me if you need anything,” Yunho said. “Even if it’s late.”
I almost hurt you.
I almost didn’t run.
“Yeah,” the omega managed. “You too.”
A small beat of silence lingered between them. Not uncomfortable. Just habitual. The quiet of two people used to sharing space.
“Love you,” Yunho said easily.
The words hit harder than the collision had.
Mingi’s throat closed. He pressed his head back against the cold steel wall and stared into the darkness of the container. The thumb drive dug into his palm.
“I love you too,” he answered. And this time, it felt like stepping onto a fault line.
The call ended, the city noise disappeared. Silence reclaimed the container. He lowered the phone slowly, hand trembling now in a way it hadn’t during the fight. Two nights. He had given himself two nights. To decide what mattered more; the mission, his career, his agency.
Or the man who had just invited him to dinner, unaware he’d been chasing his own husband through a shipyard under floodlights.