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10 October 2018 @ 12:52 pm
Burner: Part Fifteen  

Title: Burner
Series: The Syndicate
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong, Jungkook/Taehyung
Summary: Jaejoong is the leader of the widespread syndicate that runs underground Asia, and Yunho is his top agent and right hand man whose skills and composure are terrifying. There's Yoochun wtih a background as shrouded as his words. And Junsu the civilian cousin working as a hacker. And the new kid, Jungkook, off the street and into Jaejoong's home, put to work under cafe owner Taehyung. The threat looming stems from foreign invasion, the American Company that threatens, and is already taking over Asian soil. But there's an unknown group after the Syndicate, more personal, and directed against Jaejoong.



PART FIFTEEEN
~ Acceptance ~
Changmin hesitated in front of the Syndicate building, unwilling to look at Yoongi who would have seen the look of complete fear on his face. They had hung out an hour longer in the park, went for a late lunch and snack and then bought coffee on their way to Changmin’s new home.

It had felt odd saying that, or even thinking it.

Gone was his apartment, already sold off by Yoochun. And his old phone, leaving him with no reminders of his old life, of his parents missed calls – if there were any. If he thought about it, Changmin didn’t have any other close friends besides Yoongi. There was just Yoongi. He was never the popular guy. He just got along with everyone enough to go out for a quick meal or drinks or finish up work projects. Yoongi was the only constant for him, the only one he shared drinks with at four in the morning even though he had work and they were talking about which web comic was better.

And the street racing. Changmin had participated a few times, but he felt it was better left for the professionals. Yoongi always cursed him many a times saying that he was too insecure. Too foolish. Yoongi thought he could be a street racer too. But what his friend thought and what he thought of himself were two different entities.

Junsu met him as he walked in, taking in his expression, and Yoongi’s presence. He rubbed his temples with his knuckles, almost dragging his bag as he walked to the elevator.

“Just come on up and talk to Jaejoong. I figured this would happen.”

Yoongi sent him a look asking ‘Who’s he?’

“Yoongi, Junsu. Junsu, Yoongi. He’s the guy I saved like a dumbass.”

“Thanks again,” said Junsu dryly.

Changmin beamed. “You’re welcome.” Standing close to Junsu and Yoongi in the enclosed elevator helped ease his nervousness. Not settle, but ease. He was in fucking shambles inside, wondering what Jaejoong was going to say, what he was going to do. He wasn’t the one to seek out Yoongi, but he was the one who babbled everything to him – mainly everything – because he couldn’t tolerate being so alone anymore.

He wanted to tell Yoongi that he didn’t have to come. That they could pretend and forget that he had ever told him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to the head of the Syndicate. Common sense told him it was better to tell the truth and face his own stupidity again, even if it could lead to both he and Yoongi dying.

He hoped that it didn’t lead to that – dying.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Yoongi muttered, as the elevator stopped.

“Right? I’m already fucking tired and I can hear him think,” said Junsu. “Jae’s in his office.”

Yoongi followed them in, past the living room and kitchen, the enormous glass wall that brought light into the level. He took it all in, the modernized get up, the technology.

Junsu didn’t knock before he entered Jaejoong’s office. He walked right in, expecting them behind him.

“Here Shim, you can explain yourself to Jaejoong. I just want to nap for an hour and get rid of my headache. Jae, wake me up.”

Junsu left the office as quickly as he had entered it. It was the first time since they had met that Changmin had experienced him in such a foul mood. He must have really had a shit headache. Jaejoong thought so too. His gaze lingered on the closed door.

He leaned back on his chair, watching Yoongi. Jaejoong had his bleached hair swept back, and it made his face look gaunter, narrower than it already was. After two minutes of absolute quiet, Changmin realized that Jaejoong was waiting for him to explain himself.

“I met him in the park,” he started suddenly. “I was…sitting there. Yoongi’s accustomed to my habits so he found me. And well…honestly I missed him. I don’t miss my old life too much but I missed him. And you’re all friendly enough but I missed the only friend I have and I couldn’t not tell him. He would have gotten it out of me anyway.”

Changmin had to sit down to breathe. “I know it was stupid. I got him into this mess also. And I’m sorry.”

Jaejoong opened one of the drawers, and tossed a manila folder on the table. “That’s for you, Min Yoongi. Inside it is your life. Who you were growing up, everyone remotely related to you, who you’ve become. You swear your life to me now. Your life is no longer your own. You work for me. The small time street racing that you’re known for is not for leisure anymore. The money you make will be Syndicate money. Big money. And you’ll finally get time to see your friend.”

“I don’t have parents,” shrugged Yoongi, and it was true. But Changmin knew he had a younger brother, one he wasn’t close to, but still loved. He was giving that up for him.

“There’s another building owned under the Syndicate where you can stay. You may go back downstairs and someone will direct you to your new living arrangements.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Your phone,” said Jaejoong, and Yoongi handed it to him. Changmin was surprised he didn’t throw it. “Another one will be provided for you.”

“So my job will be the same? Participating in street racing just under the Syndicate name?”

“And other jobs that may need your services. Like getting to places quickly if the need arises.”

“Okay.”

“You may leave. Changmin stay.”

Yoongi nodded in respect, and placed his hand on Changmin’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly. He had told Yoongi all about the leader of the Syndicate, that it was Jaejoong, and that he was young. And Yoongi had just accepted it, without question, meeting him, his appearance, never doubting that this was the man that led nearly quarter of South Korea.

Changmin winced before Jaejoong could speak.

“I know I fucked up,” he said.

“You did,” said Jaejoong. “But your friend was the one that came looking for you. I expected that. You are my responsibility Changmin. You protected Junsu and I will forever be grateful for that. That is why when I tell you to do things I tell you them to protect you and to make sure that you don’t end up dead, or the ones you care for. Yoongi, is not my responsibility. He is yours. I expect you to remember that.” He didn’t look angry, and Changmin found that he could breathe now. “He is, however, a good friend. And I respect that. He accepted that he would have to work under the Syndicate without question, because you were here. I admire loyalty his loyalty.”

“Yeah, he’s like that,” Changmin mumbled.

“He wouldn’t stay here, but you can now at least meet him when you want, when you aren’t training, or performing your duties.”

“Yes Leader Jae.”

“You can leave.”





Yunho smoked a lot more often these days. He was on his fourth cigarette for the day, and his limit was three. The heel of his boots thudded against the stone ledge, tipping ash off the balcony into the depths of the late afternoon city. He had always preferred the night, when the sun dipped and the blue turned to grey, slathering the city in darkness and speckled artificial lights. In the evenings, he could smoke his cigarettes and drink coffee, kill and fight because the thrill felt better, sweeter, and sex – he looked up at the waning sun – was always better in the dimming light.

He finished off his smoke, letting the shriveled remains fall into the sidewalks and congestion below. He remained outside for a while, until Jaejoong was behind him, barefooted on the cold stone, slathered in a large robe and most assuredly with nothing underneath. There was a leather band lined with velvet on his ankle. Inside the seams, were tiny collapsible knives, precise little devices that were deadly with Jaejoong’s touch.

“Junsu painted your nails,” Yunho observed, rubbing at the black painted toes. Jaejoong sat on the ground next to him, fixing his robe underneath him, legs hanging over the ledge. The front of his robe parted, the ridges of his chest and collarbones stark white under the mid evening bright.

“He’s de-stressing. He had a headache and he’s barely been getting sleep. So he did his nails and my nails. And then left to go buy himself some fried chicken before he holes himself up in his room again.” Jaejoong showed off his fingers.

“I heard about the street racer,” he said. Jaejoong nodded, scratching at his scalp. He had just come out of the shower. His hair was freshly washed.

“I anticipated it.”

There was still splotches of red on Jaejoong’s neck and chest, left there from last night, from Yunho’s mouth and teeth and his sharp kisses.

There were other people he could have sex with. He liked sex for the pleasure, the look of unabashed undone and want on the expression of his partner. He liked squeezing his fingers into flesh and keeping it there. But sex with Jaejoong was different. It was a long while since he had had sex with someone that was not Jaejoong. The last time had been a few months ago, sent on a mission to Europe and he had wooed the Finance Minister and his wife on separate occasions.

Jaejoong had stopped asking about his other men and women. And Jaejoong had also, for many years, stopped having sex with any one else but him.

“I don’t know who was the traitor.” Jaejoong drew his legs up, propped on his palms and stretching his back. “Ken Joss is an ideal person to buy over. He’s head of the shipments between us and Yamapi. But he’s also never stepped foot in the Syndicate building, or has he ever met Junsu. Kim Kibum, he’s an infiltrator. He could easily be the traitor or seen Junsu around, and told off the information to his friends at the American Company.”

Yunho resisted the urge to light up another cigarette. He settled for the smell of drying nail polish, still heavy on Jaejoong’s skin.

“Or maybe it was Kibum, and he went there trying to buy off Joss, and ended up shooting him because Joss was trying to fight back – thus the marks on his neck. Joss shot back at him before he died, and Kibum tried to run away, dying in the process.”

“Where there any shipments that day?”

“Heroin. Shipped into ramen packets. Yoochun’s down there checking. So far nothing’s missing.”

“Why target the shipment? They have their own heroin. It has to be something with the shipment.”

“I’m waiting to find out if anyone else was there. Who handled the shipments. Who was on the liner and who was there on the docks. This is becoming a problem, and I don’t like problems.”

“It’s figuring out what happened, and why it happened. We don’t know either. Other than that two of our men are dead. And they could both be traitors.”

“Or they…” Jaejoong laid his fingers on top of his resting hand, skinny ice blocks that cooled his skin. “Yunho, what if someone attacked both of them and then got away. It still doesn’t explain why Kibum was there, though.” He sighed, gripping down and squeezing his hand.

“What makes it harder to get to the bottom of this is that there’s another group out there. If the man that shot at me, is from that unknown group, then this new player, is only after me.”

“Something from your past,” said Yunho.

“Of course it is,” Jaejoong laughed.

Overhead was a deepening grey-blue, and Yunho looked to his phone, checking the time. “I have to go,” he said, using his free hand to touch Jaejoong’s face. They were settling into this lull, something he couldn’t describe, something that was different from how they were when they were younger.

“Fighting ring. Of course. I’ll be heading to the docks to meet Yoochun. I want to see what happened for myself.”

Yunho nodded, kissing his mouth goodbye.

“Don’t die Leader Jae,” he murmured.

Jaejoong’s lips curled, and he got up, leaving the balcony past the open glass doors. He put on his newer pair of gloves, gold encrusted knuckles, and grabbed his gun that went on his waist, checking to see if his short swords were secure. Most of the times – meaning mostly all – he didn’t need them. But he didn’t like being under prepared.

The nights were better to walk, forgoing his car and his driver, and heading down the streets in the damp chill and lessening exhaust fumes. The location he’d sent Jungkook was a different one, closer to the café, well known to Syndicate members who tried their hand in becoming better by underground fighting, and those who tried to impress him by winning.

He’d purposefully chosen this location. Most of the members didn’t like him – Jungkook. He was a kid who in his first day got two Squads punished with a pay cut and demerits, and was cozying it up to the Leader that was untouchable to everyone else in the organization.

It was going to be a long night for the kid.

The fighting was going to be endless. Fighting rings had that luxury of no rules. No restraint in the number of fighters or fights to bet on. When there were no more fights to be had, that was when the fighting rings split up, and the money was shared out.

Yunho gave into buying a cup of cheap black coffee from a street shop. It was better than delving into that fifth smoke.





Taehyung had two mixers going, whipping up the batches of cream cheese frosting for tomorrow. He dusted powdered sugar on the completed strawberry cake, and then straightened, his back grateful for the last bit of leaning forward for the day. He really hoped that AJ was back by tomorrow. Otherwise he was going to have to get someone else – or two – to come help with the baking and decorating.

He also couldn’t remember the last time he got more than three hours of sleep. Ever since he took over running the shop, with the promise to Jaejoong that he would make it into a thriving, civilian friendly profit, he was waking up at four in the morning, on lucky days, half four, to stretch, drink his two cups of coffee and then start pre-mixing everything fresh for the day.

He opened up the box, slipping in the cake and locking the side, making sure that the decorated top was seen underneath the clear plastic. Carefully, he carried it outside, where the customer who had ordered it in a rushed phone call last night, a fourty something woman, was ready to cry.

Taehyung hoped that she didn’t.

“One strawberry cream cake,” he said, smiling at her as she gripped her pair of brown gloves, gasping down at the box set on the counter. Hoseok and Jungkook were finishing cleaning up, and the next few hours would be a dwindling crowd for food, and a steady stream yet for evening coffee requests.

“It’s beautiful!” She said, paying Jen who was working the cashier, lifting it up and watching it again. “My daughter would love it! Thank you so much. I’ll definitely put in a word for you with my parent circle. No other shop wanted to do a cake so last minute, but when my baker friend got sick, I had no choice but to beg. Thank you for this.”

“I’m happy to help,” he beamed, waiting until she left to slump over the counter. Hoseok came over to rub his fingers into his hair.

“You look dead Tae.”

“I am dead,” he complained. “My back hurts. My feet are giving up on me. AJ needs to come back to work or I’ll cry tomorrow. Help me Hoseok.”

Hoseok laughed heartily, pushing him off the counter to wipe it down. “You’re leaving early aren’t you? Me and Jen can manage the next few hours by ourselves. Jungkook has his other job to go to.” He glanced over at Jungkook who was cleaning off a table, where the high school students had just left, leaving a sticky trail of fingerprints and coffee stains.

“He does. I’m going to change.” Jaehyun was in the kitchen cleaning down the tables and counter, and he would wash the utensils and pack away the cream cheese frosting and what was left over from the day’s cooking. Taehyung would still double check when he got back in.

His home was upstairs the café, just the right size, the right style for him and his necessities. The four windows were covered with thin, purple curtains. There was a separate coffee machine upstairs, timed to make him coffee at four fifteen every morning. The kitchen where it was set up was small, a large enough fridge, coloured pots and pans done in lime green and rose gold because Taehyung hated the plain looking ones. A sofa that was made to sleep on, jammed close to the foot stool and flat screen television that Taehyung had spent a guilt-free fortune on. The Playstation on the television stand was permanently connected to that guilt-free flat screen.

He barely got chance to play a game from his ever-growing stack.

Taehyung washed his face and put on slacks and a baggy shirt, forgoing a bath because he didn’t have the time. When he came back, he wanted a long soak with bath salts, and a big glass of pink moscato to ease his aches. He slipped in his handgun with a silencer attached underneath the waist band of his slacks, and went downstairs.

Jungkook was by his locker, dressed in a white hoodie and his bag already strung up on his shoulder and back. He looked good today, cheeks with some colour with the rush of working, forever forcing Taehyung’s fingers to itch with a need to touch his mouth and his face.

The kid – only three years younger than him – had forced him to break his code. It was his own fault, really, his own damn fault because he hadn’t been this attracted to anyone in a long time, or maybe this was the first time he couldn’t control himself. But there was something about his face, his aura, his –

Taehyung groaned. He was being silly. He sounded like an idiot.

“Ready?” asked Jungkook.

Hoseok poked his head out from behind the barista station. “You’re walking him to his work place Tae?”

“I am. It’s my job to protect my workers, you know.”

Taehyung pushed Jungkook out the door before he could retaliate to Hoseok’s cooing.

“You’re meeting Yunho at the fighting ring?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook walked with his hands stuffed in the open ended hoodie pockets, setting a steady pace that Taehyung tried to keep up with. He preferred slower walks.

“If you’re so tired,” spoke Jungkook, as Taehyung was staring at the pavement, “Why didn’t you stay home?”

“I told you I wanted to come. I’ll rest when I get back. I’m fine.”

Jungkook’s look said otherwise, but he shrugged it off. They crossed the road past the police station, with Jungkook looking at street signs and then to his phone. Taehyung stepped closer to take a peek.

It was a text message from Yunho with the address Jungkook was to meet him at.

“Why didn’t Yunho just send you his location?”

“He did,” said Jungkook.

“No I mean…” Taehyung broke off. There was a lot he didn’t know about Jungkook. He was excited to buy head phones and a music player and gloves. He had never tasted ice cream before. And each time he used his phone it was like it was the first time he was seeing it. Jungkook didn’t know how to use upgraded technology because he had never gotten a chance to.

That was his theory. And he trusted his theories. They were usually spot on.

“I’ll teach you later,” he said. Jungkook looked confused.

The fighting ring was underneath a Chinese restaurant, heat and oil coming from the kitchen as they passed through. They were stopped by a Chinese man, shorter than both of them, thick limbed and heavy chested. The vest he wore was bursting, and the gun lay heavily on his waist.

Jungkook tried to pass through the door, and he raised his arm to block him. Jungkook was annoyed. Taehyung bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“Yunho sent me,” he said, and the Chinese man looked them over before moving aside.

Yunho was already waiting, standing with his arms folded against a stone pillar, old from time and wear. The underground area was small. It was without chairs, brightly lit, and was nothing but an empty expanse filled with people and lights. There were the fighters lined up underneath the low ceiling, and crowding around in a circle were the participating betters, some casually dressed, others business men in work suits that were fancy and pressed. There was something funny about haute couture and fighting.

Kind of like Taehyung. Kind of like where a lot of his money went – buying good clothes and keeping up with his hair.

Jungkook walked over to meet Yunho. Taehyung stalled to observe the other fighters. He knew most of their faces. These were Syndicate men. They recognized him, surprised at first but then acknowledging him, some waving and the others shouting out his name. He waved back, smiling. His hand dropped. They were all watching Jungkook.

Yunho had brought Jungkook to a lion’s den – full of pent up jealousy and frustration. He went over to Jungkook and grabbed his arm.

“You better win,” he said.

“Are you scared that I wouldn’t?” Jungkook replied, remaining unfazed, some how amused at him holding his arm.

“I don’t fuck losers,” he said, not sure why his mouth liked to say things without thinking, without actually saying words that he wanted to profess. Yunho made a small noise beside them. Taehyung flushed.

“Okay,” said Jungkook, before Taehyung could properly acknowledge the older man. “I guess that’s why we’re already fucking.”

Taehyung didn’t know what to say to that. He watched Yunho smooth the organizer into starting the first match, rounding up the bets that were grossly against Jungkook. Taehyung didn’t put any money in. He stood with Jungkook’s bag and next to Yunho, anxious energy he couldn’t stop giving off because he was so excited to see Jungkook fight, and mildly terrified because he knew these men and he didn’t want to see Jungkook with his pretty face bashed in.

“He’ll win,” said Yunho.

Taehyung looked up at him, sound caught in his throat. Yunho was not a man of wasted words. He looked back at Jungkook, in the makeshift circle formed by spectating bodies and jeers.

Guess he was going to find out.






It was colder down by the docks. Jaejoong was kept in his trench coat, pulled tight over the long sleeved turtle neck sweater. Yoochun was in front of him with his Ipad, swiping through the list of shipments and workers.

Jaejoong shone light on the area Yoochun had discretely marked off. He swiped through his tablet until he came upon the picture of Kim Kibum’s body. The ground before him and the picture were nothing alike. They had wiped the crime scene clean, extra clean as per Yoochun’s regulations.

He went into the storage shed, pulling the chain to send the barred lift open. The warehouse was where the trucks were stored. The shipments were put into the trucks and then shipped off to the first meeting point, and then shuffled to the second meeting point to avoid tracking. The small room to the corner was where they printed the logos for the trucks on demand. This time, there were already printed ramen logos stuck on the side of the trucks.

There were three other such storage houses in this dock.

“Yoochun. Are there any trucks missing?”

Yoochun went through the log list, and then walked through the storage sheds. “One actually.” He leaned by the edge of the entrance, iron and galvanize pressing against his arm. “There aren’t any shipments missing. It’s all accounted for – from the order before it came from Japan, and from the amount counted in the trucks. All other workers are accounted for too. I couldn’t use the log from when the shipments arrived from the docks – Joss wrote it up.”

“We’re looking at this wrong,” said Jaejoong.

“Oh?”

“What does Japan and South Korea now have in common?”

Yoochun was sharp and Jaejoong loved him for it. “Am. Co.”

“Good. Yunho said they could have shot each other. But it’s probably the other way around.”

“They didn’t shoot each other?”

“Someone shot the both of them.”

“You think –” Yoochun smiled. “They were both traitors.”

“Yes. Kibum was there to deal with any interference to make everything go smoothly. His reasons for siding with AmCo. I don’t know them, but Joss loved money. He would have been bought off. What they were doing here, after they were done doing it, AmCo. sent someone in to clean them up. Since Junsu escaped we know there was a traitor. And Ken Joss would have talked with a little pressure.”

“They cleaned them up before we could get to them. Smart. Now we’re stuck wondering if there are any other spies, because they killed the obvious ones. Ones they already used.”

“Assuming they stole the truck,” said Jaejoong, handing Yoochun his Ipad for him to hold, walking closer to the edge of the paved concrete, looking out at the stretch of water, blackened by night. “They needed the truck to put something in it. The reason why the log’s perfect is because there’s nothing missing. They needed Joss because they wanted to ship something in. Something extra.”

“New York or the microchips.”

“The street value of New York–”

“Is much higher than heroin. It’s more potent too. The profit margin–” Yoochun made an exploding sound. “But it fucks up the users. The clientele would die down. There isn’t a long-term dream market with it. Our buyers would sooner die from cardiac arrest or end up in a coma.”

“And AmCo. knows that it’s coming from Japan. Even though we regulate it through in small amounts for the clubs, they’ve know all along that the main supplier of our drugs have been Japan.”

“There’s something bigger in Japan than the Osaka branch.”

Jaejoong nodded, pressing his forehead. He was beginning to feel quite like how Junsu was feeling earlier.

“Clean up Kim Kibum’s and Ken Joss’ mess. I don’t tolerate betrayals.”

He was going to have to harass Junsu. He needed to track that ramen truck.




*


So this chapter was mainly things I had to write. For the plot. And I finally got chance to write from Taehyung’s pov, which, needs more of because it’s kinda hard to capture him in one go. This wasn’t supposed to be so long but it is. I think I fried my brain writing this too heh.

I sort of toggled with whether or not to bring in Yoongi. But, I had to. He was Changmin's friend, his only friend, and a damn loyal one too. It's what he would have done.

 
 
 
neng2ovid on October 11th, 2018 03:48 am (UTC)
So who actually betrayed them. Joss or Kibum. Also who is screwing someone else besides jae or what
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 12th, 2018 07:46 am (UTC)
Mm well Jae is trying to get to the bottom of it. All he has are speculations.
Thank you for reading~!
callalily_ishcallalily_ish on October 11th, 2018 04:45 am (UTC)
Gosh! What a mess! I'm dying to know who the traitor is. Huhu...Yunjae is complicated as usual. Yun still have no idea to face and acknowledge what is he feel towards Jae. Can't wait for the day when he know what Jae mean to him. Thanks for updating. I love long update..
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 12th, 2018 07:46 am (UTC)
He definitely does not. To him, Jaejoong is someone that's important. He'll probably figure it out or act on it without figuring it out.
Thank you for reading~!
callalily_ish: YUNJAEcallalily_ish on October 25th, 2018 02:57 am (UTC)
He is....isn't he? Action speaks louder than word...I really hope Jae or Yun enemy won't use this to their advantage...
Blue Eyes~: jaehoodblu_eyezz on October 12th, 2018 07:21 pm (UTC)
Ah didn't know you updated ^^ Love the long chapter, I wonder if its someone who Jae knows that is behind all the shootings, etc. I so love a bad ass Yunho and Jaejoong, they are like the power couple (but not a couple ^^; ). I know that Yunho is aware that Jaejoong is important to him however I feel like he is noticing more things between them. Their relationship doesn't necessarily need labels but I like how they are with each other, how unconsciously they just gravitate towards each other. Thank you for the update <3 can't wait for more!
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 12th, 2018 10:22 pm (UTC)
I ddiiid. I'm trying to free write more frequently since I have time! They are such a power couple. And they know it. They're too accustomed to each other to put any labels on what they have.
Thank you for reading~! <3
東方神起kikite_dbsk5 on October 12th, 2018 10:28 pm (UTC)

YESSS thank you for this update huhuhu it was quick and made my day ❤❤
So, we are going to see someone from JJs past, I wonder who might be lol the way Yunho said it sounded like a exlover perhaps or someone JJ messed up before xD idk I'm excited!
And that dont die leader Jae whatever I just loved it even though he may have not said it with deep meaning but every lil thing Yunho says or does for Jaejoong it warms my heart ddd lol
I cant wait to see them in action but I also want this fic to last bc I really love it T.T so I'm very happy you are writing when they were young and all.


Thank you again for this update !! Cant wait to read the next chapter ^^

thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 14th, 2018 04:55 am (UTC)
Ahh I wish I could tell you who it isssss. But I can't :) :)
There will be more parts when they were younger!
Thank you for reading~ <3
kattan69: Hotness overloadedkattan69 on October 14th, 2018 02:21 pm (UTC)
Hope they find the traitor soon and know who is the real mastermind.
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 18th, 2018 11:27 pm (UTC)
they will eventually.
Thank you so much for reading~!
phinea2009phinea2009 on October 15th, 2018 12:06 am (UTC)
I hope they are closer to the truth.
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 18th, 2018 11:27 pm (UTC)
they are!
Thank you for reading~!
o(≧∇≦o)(o≧∇≦)o: pic#119453850asiangirl123 on October 16th, 2018 04:14 am (UTC)
Ahh! I don’t know what to think anymore..... I want jaejoong to get to the bottom of this!!!! I hope he doesn’t get hurt, and if someone does try, I hope Yunho is there for him. This story is so interesting, and I can’t wait for more!! Thank you for the update. I will forever love yunjae in here :)
thetaintedbladethetaintedblade on October 18th, 2018 11:27 pm (UTC)
Thank you for reading~!
Don't worry, jae can take of himself.
<3