dainuhsoar | I'm still waiting

title: I'm still waiting
rating: pg-13 for language
pairing: doojoon x yoseob (but this fic is yoseob-centric)
wordcount: 2,585

summary: doojoon is a field agent and yoseob is his handler. doojoon goes missing for months on one mission and yoseob goes after him.

notes: part of the au: espionage series. previously...

yoseob doesn't enjoy his work. well, who would if their work is to sit around and build tiny gadgets that may or may not be returned to you and wait for your friend, your boyfriend, your lover to give you a call through the tiny earpiece you designed?

reports are irregular and worrying but it shouldn't be worrying because doojoon is a field agent, it's natural for them to be on-and-off in communications. he shouldn't be but it's expected if he has broken his earpiece or someone else has broken it for them. and when that happens, the last thing that'll be heard over the earpiece is a gravelly voice saying something like well tell headquarters you won't be back and yoseob will be the only who hears it and he'll gulp and he'll want to scream but he can't because be professional, yoseob.

it's natural to lose agents on the job. it's natural to be sad over the loss. but it's also natural to carry on and be calm and tell yourself there was nothing you can do so suck it up.

there's this social status pyramid at headquarters. doojoon is somewhere close to the bottom – which is good... to yoseob. doojoon is always grumbling about how his talents are being wasted, how he's not appreciated enough blah-blah-blah. yoseob is just glad the risk of doojoon dying on duty is about 50% and not 80%, which is the percentage for the field agents near the tip of the pyramid. those agents have to pray for protection before they set off. doojoon doesn't believe in praying so yoseob does it for him.

"better safe than sorry, you prick, just pray with me!" yoseob will growl, tugging doojoon to sit down next to him by the wrist. doojoon will roll his eyes and mumble something about stupid superstitions but he'll also settle down, rest his palms together, close his eyes and-

yoseob will take this moment to peek over to doojoon, one eye cracked open to watch as doojoon's lips move in silent prayer. sometimes he can pick up what doojoon prays for, let umma, appa and noona be happy, let yoseob be safe, let yoseob be happy, let yoseob be brave... doojoon never prays for something that begins with "let me be..." while yoseob's prayers always begin with "let doojoon be..."

the prayers haven't failed (yet) so yoseob continues. he prays every night when doojoon is on the field for him to be back safely in the morning or the very next minute, which is preferable. after praying, yoseob will climb into the bed he seldom shares with doojoon (because doojoon is hardly there and everything), curl up on his side and try to get to sleep. but who can sleep knowing your friend, your boyfriend, your lover is somewhere across the globe desperately running for their lives?

no, maybe not desperately running for their lives when it's in doojoon's case – doojoon will most likely desperately run for other people- for yoseob.

field agents are usually given a deadline to report back. (the term 'deadline' has never been so appropriate.) but the deadlines are useless, to be honest. even when the deadline has been reached, nobody files them as 'dead' because everyone knows a few days later, the agent will be limping through the doors to report to the boss. and nobody will bat an eyelid.

but yoseob has always relied heavily on the deadline. he had made doojoon promise to take the deadline thing seriously and doojoon has never reported a second later before. doojoon always reports back on time, if not earlier.

so when doojoon doesn't report back before the deadline the first time, yoseob goes into panic. his hands shake as he abuse the 'enter' button repeatedly, trying to get into contact with doojoon over a probably-broken line. when yoseob is finally convinced it won't work, he jams in a few codes here and there, fingers flying over keys- and then back to abusing the 'enter' button. there's a crackle in his earpiece and yoseob's heart races as he pushes the earpiece further into his ear to listen and repeating a silent mantra in his heart, he's okay he's okay he's okay.

"-rry" *crackle* "-seob" *crackle* *hiss* *sputter* "-ack soon!"

there's a loud pop in yoseob's ear and he scrambles to pluck the earpiece out of his ear. it takes him a few seconds to collect himself. and then he's out of his chair and stumbling into the pantry for a cup of coffee to calm his nerves.

that night, yoseob sits on the edge of his bed with his hands clasped together and held close to his chin, close enough for his lips to press against his thumbs, he closes his eyes and he prays silently for doojoon doojoon yoon doojoon where is he? please please please let him be okay. where is he? is he safe? is he hurt? please please please. and he doesn't realize it at first when he starts to cry, breath and throat shivering. he takes a deep breath, wipes the tears from his cheeks and climbs into bed. he pulls the covers over himself and tries not to think of doojoon and where he could be (or where his body parts could be).

yoseob's eyes snap open when he hears the door open. he scurries out of bed, dash to the front door, slips and falls on the way. and then he sees doojoon, clothes muddy and bandaged arm in a sling, limping through the door. yoseob is so relieved, he starts to cry again. but they're happy tears, happy through his smile and his laughter as he grapples on doojoon when the latter comes over to help him up. he doesn't want to get up from the floor, forcing doojoon to sit down and let him cry into his arms.

"i told you i would be back soon," doojoon says, smiling and shaking his head as he strokes yoseob's hair back. "you didn't have to worry."

"how could i not be worried?!" yoseob scolds, waving doojoon's hand away only to discover he doesn't want doojoon to stop stroking his hair, so he replaces doojoon's hand back on his head. "what happened to you?"

"um," doojoon hesitates. yoseob shoots him a threatening glare and he yields. "bad company. i finished the job early, but uh... i met junhyung."

yoseob frowns. "and?"

"junhyung was looking for hyunseung. you know hyunseung, don't you?"

"yeah, that pretty redhead who dances."

"yeah. they're field partners. hyunseung had ran after one of the guys they were after by himself and junhyung lost him. so i stuck around and helped out a bit..."

yoseob knows he shouldn't be selfish and he should really commend doojoon for being generous and helping junhyung out but he finds himself angry at junhyung and hyunseung instead, angry at doojoon as well because well, didn't he know yoseob's back at headquarters, freaking the fuck out? but then... doojoon enjoys it, being out on the field, adrenaline pumping, living on the edge and not giving a fuck if he sees the next sunrise or not.

unlike yoseob, doojoon really enjoys his work.

doojoon's next mission takes him away from yoseob for 2 months and counting...

he was supposed to report back a month and a week ago. his mission wasn't supposed to take so long. all doojoon had to do was attend a conference and shoot the motherfucker who would try to assassinate the ambassador to the United States. that was all doojoon had to do. it would take him less than a day. a week at most if the ambassador needed his help getting away safely. a mere bodyguard kind of job. but he reported back before the deadline asking for an extension because something came up. yoseob was worried but doojoon explained that the ambassador requested for him to stick around for "about 2 weeks more" and he granted the extension reluctantly after permission from the boss. but two weeks later and doojoon failed to report back.

yoseob basically went into full panic mode. he bluffed himself that it'd be like the last time, doojoon would come back that night. he'd be back he'd be back. but yoseob didn't sleep and when the sunrays filtered through the blinds to cast stripes of shadows and light on his empty sheets, yoseob knew doojoon wouldn't be back anytime soon.

yoseob was sick for three days, high fever and throbbing headache. he didn't return to work for another four days. when he was finally back at work, he was put into coding duty where his distractions wouldn't be a disruption to others. two more weeks and yoseob had finally regained himself. he was put back into field-agent-handling and devising duty.

but his colleagues didn't miss how yoseob's tone turned monotonous, yoseob's eyes became dispirited and yoseob's laughter became empty. yoseob feels empty besides the sharp and numbing ache in his heart. he's still waiting and yearning for doojoon to come back but he knows he can't mope around. what he can do is be patient, he can't do anything more.

it's not like he can request to go onto the field and look for doojoon... can he?

the idea comes to yoseob as he's stirring his coffee and remembering how doojoon will always wake up before him and will be making coffee for both of them in the mornings. yoseob hums and haws over the idea. he knows he's not physically ready for field work. he's used to the deskbound job and it's ridiculous to picture him running around, handling the pistol he invented. besides, it's impossible that the boss will allow how to go on the field just because he wants to find doojoon.

and that's why yoseob leaves without permission. he leaves without saying a word to anyone, only leaving a note that says I went off to find you. on the kitchen table in case doojoon comes home.

yoseob is sitting at a cafe in Singapore, legs crossed and coffee steaming as he tries to focus on the headlines of the foreign newspapers but fidgeting because he's in an unfamiliar country and unfamiliar people are staring at him. no, not the waitress wiping down tables; not the old man chatting with an equally old lady – probably a couple married for years; not the teenager with acne and still in his school uniform tapping away on his ipod either. they're not staring at yoseob and there's no one else in sight but yoseob can't shake the prickling feeling of eyes on the back off his head.

yoseob finally stands, leaving his coffee and the newspapers he doesn't understand anyway on the small round table. he walks away from the cafe as fast as he can.

yoseob has been in Singapore for two weeks and three days because doojoon was dispatched here for his mission. but he could have left the country and went somewhere halfway across the world already but even so, yoseob has no other leads. yoseob has been treating his own little mission like a holiday, quite honestly. he has no idea what to do or where to go or who to talk to. well, maybe he does know who to talk to but you can't very well march into the embassy, can you?

yoseob tugs his cap down over his eyes and stuffs his hands into his pockets. he swiftly twists around the bodies crowding the streets. suddenly, as he's passing one of the thousands of alleyways on the streets of Singapore, he's pulled into the alley. he freezes up at first and then a disgusting rough hand tasting of sweat clamps over his mouth and that triggers yoseob to start flailing.

he's being dragged backwards deeper into the dark alley. yoseob is initially surprised to find the alley empty of people because it's Singapore, for goodness' sake, there are people everywhere. and why the fuck didn't anyone see him being dragged into this stinking alley? and then yoseob sees the dead bodies along the sides and it hits him like the stink from the trash cans that the people living out here were killed just so whoever it is pulling yoseob along could have easy access and exit from here.

yoseob remembers the small pistol in his jacket. his hand goes into his jacket. and just as he's about to be pushed into a van waiting for them on a street that's teeming with people, by the way, he whips the weapon and shoots the man, hand trembling so bad he'd have missed if not for the almost-nonexistent distance between the two of them.

there is a split second of silence as everyone – mothers, fathers, teenagers, children – freezes and stares with their mouths open and eyes wide in shock. and then someone screams. and them more. someone tries to seize yoseob. yoseob lets him because fuck, he killed someone. fuck fuck fuck. he actually used that fucking gun. he only carried it around for this fake sense of security. he never meant to use it and fuck, is that kid crying? oh, fuck, he killed someone. yoseob is shaking so bad and he wants to kill himself for that moment.

and then- "YAH, YANG YOSEOB!"

yoseob doesn't realize he's been holding his breath. he throws his weight against the person trying to pin him against the van. the person is taken by surprise – the only reason yoseob can escape – and yoseob dashes towards yoon doojoon, who's across the road and dashing across as well to meet him halfway. some people try to grab yoseob while others quickly scream and back off. they crash into each other and yoseob thinks he's back before doojoon is pushing them back towards the van. yoseob shoots him an are you fucking crazy look and struggles to pull them both away.

the driver from the van has scrambled out, snatched the gun from the sidewalk and is aiming at doojoon. more screams, more scuffling. where the fuck are the police? doojoon takes his own gun out and shoots the driver at the shoulder. doojoon shoves yoseob into the van and climbs in after him.

doojoon doesn't give a fuck about crowded roads, he crashes into cars and pushes them aside. the vehicles honk and drivers scream vulgarities. more people scream. but doojoon continues crashing and moving forward. yoseob thinks it's pretty stupid looking, a van trying to escape at zooming speeds but jerking to stops. they jerk forwards in their seats whenever the van crashes deafeningly.

but yoseob looks over to doojoon, who has his bottom lip between his teeth and cursing beneath his breath, and he has never felt more at peace for months. he smiles. if they died like this, if they get arrested like this, yoseob won't mind. all he needs is-

"yah, yoon doojoon."

doojoon turns with a scowl on his face. yoseob grabs his face and kisses him. doojoon smiles at him briefly before snapping eyes back to the road and trying to squeeze through vehicles.

if his job was to be beside doojoon, no matter how or where, yoseob will enjoy his work.

two motorcycles drive up on either side of the van.

the cyclist on yoseob's side slides his visor up and says, "you guys look fucking retarded. the police are about one minute away."

the cyclist on doojoon's side barks out, "get on!"

A/N: I live in Singapore and I am aware that firearms are strictly prohibited and our security is top-notch. And also, there aren't many alleyways in the city but for the sake of this fic, let's just say they're in au-Singapore. orz shoot met now. Also, I have no idea where I'm going with this story. I know it looks like there's an actual plot but to be entirely truthful, there ain't no plot. This fic is going absolutely nowhere. Please don't hate me and shoot me now plz. Happy lunar new year and spread loveeee~

Also, remember to read the above notes.