《Organized Situation》


 A New Place with New Priorities

    The terminal in London Heathrow was busy as always. Everyone had their lives wrapped up in neat packages on wheels and were rushing to and from their destination. Each person stayed in their own world, worrying only about their own flight time, their own luggage. They were willing to sit in silence next to complete strangers in a metal tube as it flew them thousands of feet in the air, strictly for business or pleasure in another location. No one gave a second glance at a young man stepping off a plane and quite frankly, he didn¡¯t give a damn about them.


    A twelve-hour flight and eight hours in the wrong time zone left Sol in a rather irritated condition. He had gotten little sleep on the flight and knew he would be forcing himself to stay up for the rest of the day in order to adjust to his new life in London. It was meant to be temporary, but with a job like this, the time frame was difficult to predict. He stood amongst the cattle in silence to get through customs, flashing his passport and illegally acquired visa. His passport photo was old, from his high school days. His hair was shorter now, usually styled neatly, but currently in a messy state from the long flight. He looked a little older, grown a couple of centimeters, but overall, he was the same smug-looking asshole in the photo as he was standing in front of customs.


    The officer looked at his Korean passport and back up at Sol, asking him questions painfully slowly and loudly, as if Sol was a child or idiot. Sol, in return, played along. He made the man¡¯s life harder for amusement, pretending not to understand and nodded his head slowly at questions that weren¡¯t yes or no questions. After a moment of frustration, the officer simply grumbled to himself and seeing nothing suspicious about this kid who couldn¡¯t speak English, stamped his passport. Sol, in return, gave him a grateful smile and grabbed his papers, before mockingly speaking painfully slowly back at him in the same tone.


    ¡°I. know. English. Is. Hard. But. Keep. Trying. Ass. Hole.¡±


    After getting safely into his hotel room and settling in, Sol stared at the mattress for a long minute, wanting to take a moment of rest. But to fix his jet lag, he knew better. Even sitting down on the bed for a second would probably cause him to knock out immediately. He quickly sent a text to his informant he was meant to meet at some point in his trip to help him with his task. After taking care of business, he decided to head out and get familiar with the area as a distraction to stay awake. At the very least, he¡¯d get familiar with a pub.


    "Oi mate, you comin'' out for a cuppa, ye?"


    "I can''t, I have this paper to finish for class." Long ebony hair aggressively tossed over his shoulder, glasses adjusted even though he knew by his friend''s harsh accent through the receiver, he might not be able to back out of this one. Emilio, as always, valued his studies more than he did socializing. One would think it was a pity, he thought otherwise.


    "U''ve locked yerself in tha'' bloody room for days, come out!" the gruffness on the other end signaled that this was going to be a hopeless endeavor.


    "It''s only been five hours, I know I look like the perfect girlfriend on your arm, but I am not going out." Reaching underneath the bridge of his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose, almost running out of options of getting out of this. Tea sounded nice . . . But it''s not exactly the kind of "cuppa" his English friend was referring to, not at all. As pleasing as alcohol sounded, he didn''t feel like getting shit-faced.


    "Y''ur a right arse, you know that? I''m still stopping by later, so don''t kill yourself with them books, ye?"Stolen novel; please report.


    "Yes mum. Now run along to your book club, I bet they''re missing you already." He heard a grunt and then an arse said on the other line before he ended the call. Stretching leisurely like a cat, Emilio rose from his desk and patted his bare feet into his bathroom. Flicking the switch on, he removed his glasses and looked himself in the mirror. He was beginning to form small, dark bags underneath his eyes. The eyes that were a usual sharp ice color, have now grown dull and tired from the constant studying and other . . . worrisome problems he''s been faced with. His features had shed almost every ounce of baby fat from his high school days in Seoul, Korea. Prominent cheekbones, a sharper nose and jawline, even grew several centimeters in height. Running his fingers through the back of his hair and bringing them to the front, he looked at the greying hairs from the back of his hairline. He''s been researching it and oddly enough, that part of his hair seemed to grey out faster than the rest.


    What odd genetics.


    In the midst of his facial self-pity, he heard a knock on his apartment door. Sighing, he walked out and about to the front door and was greeted with a soft smile. "Oliver, what brings you here?" He stepped aside and let in the small-framed individual. Dusty freckles on pale skin, hazel eyes and dirty blonde hair, what a cutie.


    "Someone from a rival gang was murdered last night, his body was brought back to a mate of mine''s house so he can inspect on what the cause of death was. It was almost instantaneous, really." The voice was boyishly masculine, but a hint of femininity was held in the undertones.


    "You''re the only one I knew that could. . . well, put your expertise into play." And by that, he was the perfect "Doctor" for taking apart the body, saving the good pieces to sell and discarding the rest. This was Emilio''s side-job. He knew the drill, he put his shoes and jacket on and headed out the door, following Oliver''s lead. Nothing cured Emilio''s boredom than hacking and dismembering a cadaver.


    He sat at the bar by himself, fiddling with his phone as a local football game was being screened. Normally, he was interested enough in the sport to follow along, but tonight, his mind was a haze and mildly preoccupied. Sol had been told to contact the informant immediately upon arrival. This made him anticipate a speedy response. He had just barely enough information to go digging himself, but that would require a lot of time and work. Luckily, a contact surfaced which is what brought him to London, but now that Sol arrived, he hadn¡¯t heard a word. He flipped over his phone a couple more times before tucking it away, obviously annoyed. There was no use waiting around the phone like a teenage girl. He finished his beer and ordered another, staying in the pub for the duration of the game.


    After the game, he closed his tab and headed out. London was a busy, gloomy city and he wasn¡¯t quite in the mood to sightsee. He lifted his wrist to check his watch, and it was only 8PM. Well, he felt like a damn old man, but that was late enough for him to sleep without fueling his jetlag. He shoved his hands back into his jacket pocket before heading back to the hotel. He hopped on the tube, and it wasn¡¯t until he was getting off he noticed a pair following him. He grimaced, not wanting to deal with any riffraff tonight. He hoped he was just seeing things, but as he turned a corner rapidly, there was no mistaking they were following him.


    They were probably trying to mug an easy target. Or maybe mess around with this foreign kid. And the least likely scenario, they were with the gang he came to eliminate. Unlikely, since they shouldn¡¯t know who he was and if they did, they shouldn¡¯t know he was there. His own gang had not revealed any intention of going after the idiots in London. Who knew what they wanted? Sol didn¡¯t give them time to explain themselves.


    As soon as he went around the corner, he turned around rapidly to knock a solid punch in the leading man¡¯s gut. The other swung a wide punch, too wide, which Sol ducked away from. Without hesitation, he grabbed the same wrist and quickly twisted the arm around. With firm control over him, he pushed the man¡¯s head into the other¡¯s and in their short moment of daze, Sol ran off. He was quick, but if either of them had weapons on them, he would¡¯ve been screwed. It looked like he needed to get himself equipped soon. They were also both too large for him to handle completely on his own at the moment. Sol quickly ran into a hotel, not his hotel, and waited for them to follow him inside. As they looked around, angry and confused, Sol shed his jacket and walked out of the building when their backs were turned with a small smile on his face. He quickly tossed it in a nearby rubbish bin, in case they were still following him, but the London crowds should provide more than enough cover. He made hiway calmly, but swiftly back to his own hotel, two blocks over. The London fog was rolling in and he just threw away a perfectly good jacket.The moment of adrenaline faded and pure exhaustion overtook him as soon as he entered the room. He flopped onto the bed and brown eyes disappeared behind black lashes, before fluttering open after reconsideration. He grabbed the phone and sent out one more message before falling asleep on his first night in London.


    ¡°Hey fucker. If you don¡¯t respond by the time I wake up, I¡¯m letting our mutual friends in on a rat problem. Good night, sweetie.¡±

 New Faces nd Old Reunions

    Oliver, several blocks away in his safe haven apartment with a man that he held dear, had his arms wrapped around his feminine and lithe form. He stretched, careful not to disturb his lover behind him, he reached for the cell phone on the night stand and checked for new texts. One from Sol. Sighing to himself, he texted the Korean male about a small quaint cafe they will be meeting at in northern London. Ironically, that''s one of the few areas Armani knows better than to step in that part of London, despite his "reign" over the city. Setting the phone back, he felt lips press chastely on his bare back, kissing a scar that was fading slowly.


    "Work again?" The male said, amber eyes and chestnut hair, his physique covered by a duvet, but his muscular arm gave a hint to his strong stature. His voice was soothing, warm, just like home. Nodding, Oliver whispered, voice still scratchy with morning sleepiness. "Yeah, sort of. Going to meet this lad I informed about Tyrann''s plan and he flew here from Seoul." Oliver''s voice was delicate, soft and not at all like his usual voice. The man behind him trailed kisses his over the bare shoulder and across to the dirty blonde''s soft neck.


    Speaking slowly, he then said "I still don''t like him you know, that tyrannical piece of work is a complete git." He grumbled towards the end, hearing a giggle and bright hazel eyes looking at him.


    "You''re a git yaself, yanno. If you had listened to me before, we wouldn''t be in such a tight-knit situation." Citrus orange painted nails trailed up the bicep that firmly was wrapped around Oliver''s waist. Feeling a sigh hit the side of his cheek, his eyes trailed over to meet amber.


    "Zita." The way the name was said made Oliver''s chest pound harder, causing the hazel gleam to soften. "Be careful will ya? I would like for my femme / homme fatale lover to be back in one piece."


    "I''ve come this far, shouldn''t be too hard to come out of all the rubbish I''ve made an uncomfortable nest in." Smiling, she kissed him softly on the lips, which surely escalated quickly until through the romantic toss in the sack, Zita forgot to text Sol what time they were going to meet at the cafe. Reaching over to look at the time on her phone, it was nearing the afternoon. She texted him 2PM to be there before it was tossed roughly to the ground.


    ¡°Oh, really? And where would this cushy life be, exactly?¡± Sol rolled his eyes at Emilio¡¯s request for sex, not even bothering to respond to it. It seemed as if the old Jjang had never changed. But it really was a bit of a relief to hear that he was doing alright. Not that he was really worried. Still, he was curious to where Emilio had run off to after graduating. Sol had a year left in high school after that, a year where he fell out of the gang scene. But now he was back and he found himself somehow in London.


    Luckily, Emilio wasn¡¯t the only one with a speedy response time today. He read his text from Oliver, though he ended up annoyed at the lad once more. A location, but no time. He sighed, but waited patiently, finishing up his tea before getting up to leave. The fall weather in London was a bit chillier than Seoul and the young man hid himself underneath a warm black pea-coat. He still had a bit of time to wander before meeting this Oliver, so he got off at a random stop in northern London and decided to explore a bit. Just as he decided to pop in a pub, Oliver caught his mistake and sent a time. Sol stepped inside to catch the end of a football match before walking to the little caf¨¦.  By the time he made it inside again, his face was flushed from the chilly wind. He grabbed a small booth and texted Oliver that he had arrived. He fiddled with his phone as he waited, wondering if he would recognize Oliver as one of the men Armani liked to keep around at all times. His eyes stayed glued to the door as he waited for his new ¡®friend¡¯.


    "Telling you would mean you''d have to visit me. And I don''t suppose that would be on your bucket list, no? </img> "


    He texted back, fully dressed this time and had set out on the streets of London, approaching a cafe in the northern sector. Emilio''s long hair left unbound as the winds grazed the ebony locks that stopped a little above his lower backside. A grey scarf was wrapped snugly around his neck and over his mouth. Donning a simple band t-shirt and form fitting black jeans that made his ass all the more inviting. Walking into the cafe, he walked to the counter, pulling the scarf down to smile at the cashier. "I would like some boba green tea, don''t put too much of the bobas in there." He winked as she got flustered and prepared his order.


    Little did Emilio know that Sol was in the same cafe as him, but he pulled out his phone to text Oliver, asking him when they were going to see each other later. After he sent that, he got a punch in the side by someone significantly shorter than he was. "I thought you would forget that we were supposed to meet, scumbag." Oliver''s timbre resonated next to Emilio as he ordered his drink. Looking down at the smaller male, his hair was tidy, his appearance consisted of a simple punk attire, but "professional" enough that he chose to wear a black buttoned down shirt (which was a few sizes too big, but no one dared to comment on it), trousers, clothes and boots the same color. One would assume that the young lad was going to a funeral.


    "I didn''t, I figured I''d get the hell out of my apartment and take in the view. Sight-see the horizons and all that." He said in a thick Italian accent for emphasis on his "sheltered" life. This caused Oliver to roll his eyes and then sigh over-dramatically. "It must be so hard to be a mixed bred in England, when there''s already so many of you lollygagging about." The young German male bantered back.


    "Now now, I hear you have quite the fancy for wankers like us." Before Oliver could even retaliate, Emilio didn''t even look to make his next statement. "So, I see you went to your man recently. How''s the shirt fitting?" He chuckled, as Oliver''s face turned pink slightly.


    "It fits perfectly fine, thank you!" Huffing slightly, he then said meekly. "It''s been awhile yanno? I missed him and he realizes that it''s even risky to be any where near him. I need some guidance, ya?" He mumbled, blushing a little harder.


    "I bet that guidance involved a little sessuale gua--"


    "That''s enough outta you." Already knowing what he was going to say, he punched him for emphasis, which caused the taller man to give his rich, sultry laugh. Usually an indicator that he''s right.


    "If it makes you feel any better, you''re actually wearing my shirt."


    "But this is Mathias''s how the fuck is it your''s you, Italienisch ficker?"


    "I let him have it because it didn''t fit me, see this," he suggestively ran his hand down his back to reach a small hole that was protruding from where Emilio''s ribcage would have been at, if it wasn''t the fact that he was poking Oli''s backside. "this is why I gave it to him."


    "You sound so heartbroken." Oliver said blandly.


    "Actually~~ when a man gives another man his shirt, they quite honestly must be fu--"


    "Your order is ready sir." The lady was blushing furiously at such a casual display of affection, even though she did not understand Oliver''s and Emilio''s back story, at all. "Please, you can take it, no charge either." She smiled as Emilio''s fingers connected with her wrist, then her hand and fingertips to take the bubble tea from her. Her hand trembled from such a sensual contact, which in turn caused him to take it and kiss the knuckle of it politely. Opening his eyes, he smiled as his pale eyes gleamed in gratitude.


    "Merci, signora." Winking at her, he released her hand and then ruffled Oliver''s well-kept hair on purpose. "Look sharp for this Korean guy kid, men over there don''t seem to like uncleanliness." And with that he left. Oliver closed his hazel eyes, counted to ten to take deep breathes to try to calm himself. Emilio is such a git, Emilio''s a git, that bloody arse is a git. . . He kept telling himself, before taking his own order of black coffee and being told that he didn''t have to pay before walking towards the table where Sol was sitting.


    "''Ello, I''m Oliver and I believe you''re Sol, yes?" His English accent was suddenly a mix of German, and it didn''t help that his hair was in disarray, but no matter.


    Sol¡¯s eyes had stayed locked on the door and he really couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing when a tall man walked in. There was absolutely no fucking way. It was the second time today he almost burned his tongue on a hot liquid because of Emilio. He set down his cup of coffee as his eyes followed him to the cashier. Maybe it was just someone who looked like him. But when a shorter man in clothes that didn¡¯t fit him approached him, Sol heard that familiar laugh. What were the odds that they¡¯d wander into the same caf¨¦. Well, it seemed like his trip to England would be made a little more interesting, if he ever put aside the time. However, for now, he was waiting on someone important and ignored the pair as best he could. He turned his eyes back to the doorway, only to glance back at the pair from time to time.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Soon, Emilio was walking out the door. He quickly opened up his phone and sent Emilio a text. ¡°London has always been on my bucket list though.¡± The cheeky text revealed that Sol knew Emilio¡¯s location and the young man thought he might as well mess with the other with the information he unexpectedly received. As he set his phone away, he noticed the shorter man from earlier approaching his table. ¡°It¡¯s a damn small world,¡± he muttered under his breath in Korean as Oliver took a seat and introduced himself. He nodded his head as he looked over the man¡¯s appearance, but ignored it for the time being. He studied Oliver¡¯s face, realizing it looked familiar, but he couldn¡¯t quite place it at the moment. Not wanting to scare him with his silence, Sol spoke up.


    ¡°I¡¯ve found our friend, but I can¡¯t seem to be able to talk to him alone. Plus I need to know a little more of the structure. Will his other friends continue his legacy?¡± It seemed as far as he could tell that the gang was a random mix of thugs who weren¡¯t particularly loyal or smart enough to keep things moving. But if Armani¡¯s death only fueled a war, it would be dangerous for many more people. Sol needed to find out which men needed to be taken care of to guarantee the obliteration of the entire gang.


    Sipping on his coffee, he set the mug down. "The group of men you usually with him during the day are the easier targets to discard. They''re bulky, slow and utterly useless. And as far as he''s concerned, he could hire men with the same intelligence to protect him during the day." Oliver looked at Sol sternly, hinting that if those men were killed, they would be replaced and it was of no consequence, whatsoever. "It''s the men you have to worry about at night that are the bigger issue." He continued, looking off into the distance briefly.


    "If you''ve been following him carefully, you''ll notice that every night, he has different men with him-- except three you will probably see more than thrice in a week." Starting with his thumb, he counted. "The gruffy looking red-head, his name is Blake, don''t ever leave yourself open to attacks-- one egregious move and you''ll regret it. Or well, if you can live to regret it." Shuddering at the thought, he progressed. "Vincent, he is a suave looking type of chap that is usually in the shadows. He doesn''t feel the need to boast about his skills, but when he fights, be prepared for a long one. He is the best tactician we have. If we go to war, there''s a good chance he''s planning it and not Tyrann." And last but not least, "Of course, myself. However, I have no reason to fight you. A faux fight really, but fighting me seriously is the last thing you''d want on your hands, ye?"


    Before giving Sol any time to question that, he said "You''re not the only one that''s in on this whole . . . Combative retaliation. There''s a couple others, and in due time, you''ll be meeting them accordingly. Any further questions?" Hazel eyes staring into brown ones.


    Sol listened quietly and intently, his hands wrapped around his mug to warm up his hands. It seemed like Sol had his work cut out for him. So these two men definitely needed to be taken care of. But he would need a time to take care of them alone. He furrowed his brows slightly as Oliver mentioned himself, but Sol only remembered two men and¡­


    Then he finally connected the face of the woman and Oliver¡¯s. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re the pretty one who¡¯s always on Tyrann¡¯s arm,¡± he spoke with slight amusement. Sure, he was surprised, but there were stranger things that Sol had come across. Oliver hinted that Sol wouldn¡¯t be working on his own, but not until a later time. ¡°So what¡¯s the best way for me to get these three alone?¡± At the very least, he would need to isolate Tyrann and his posse from the other underlings. Sure, they might not be much in a fair fight against Sol, but a mass of peons with weapons wouldn¡¯t allow the Korean to escape alive. ¡°And you should know I don¡¯t work well with others, so they better be competent.¡± He added that last remark before taking another sip.


    Oliver''s eyebrow twitched irritably, but gave a curt nod, ignoring Sol''s astute observation skills since this is not something he would like to bring up. "The best way to corner them is. . . " a smirk, befitting of Oliver''s features graced his face. "playing by their paranoia." Taking a long sip of the still hot black coffee before setting it back down, not once grimacing at the scalding liquid that went down his throat. "Blake is pathologically afraid of the sound of grating bones, ironic given that he''s the one causing the most broken limbs of opponents. But he is also suspicious of things that move in the shadows, and instinctively follows them, but knows better than to go too far."


    Tapping his painted nails on the table, he then continued, smirking deeper. "Sounds like a woman''s heel clicking will attract him to foolishly go off by himself. There are also many alleys in London, and I do have the perfect person to help act as a decoy before you throttle him."


    "As for Vincent, we''ll have to save that bloke for another time. He''s unpredictable in his own right, but the only constant with him is he changes to the atmosphere around him within the gang. So I discourage you from acting upon him now." Looking back at Sol, he then said. "Don''t worry, I wouldn''t command a lot of blundering twits. Aside from me, there will be three other men. Ironically, one of which also feels the same in regards to working with others. You two might get along on that premise alone." A smile graced his features.


    So Blake first. Sol would have to kill him and dispose of him without anyone seeing, unless he wanted to get on Tyrann¡¯s radar. A hot-headed redhead. Seemed simple enough. It wouldn¡¯t be an easy fight by any means and Sol would be smarter than to underestimate him by Oliver¡¯s words, but damn it if it didn¡¯t get him excited. He had been itching for a fight for a while, that mischievous part of him never died after high school. Sure he could work behind the scenes and pull the strings, but Sol liked to get his hands dirty. ¡°A decoy would be appreciated.¡± He offered Oliver a smile, the first since they¡¯ve met. He had quietly noted the irritated look when he mentioned Oliver¡¯s busty nature and decided against mocking him further. It seemed he didn¡¯t particular enjoy being Tyrann¡¯s arm candy.


    ¡°You seem like someone who could be quite dangerous, Oliver.¡± To be so close to Tyrann and to plot against him in the shadows was a dangerous combination. If he was pulling it off, then Sol knew better than to trust him completely. But, Oliver might be the perfect person to set up to lead a new gang in place of Armani¡¯s if all worked out in the end. ¡°I¡¯ll give your friends a chance then.¡± He finished the last of his coffee. ¡°Anything else then?¡± he asked. Being seen together would be dangerous for him and for Oliver so their time was limited. ¡°Have your people call my people. I expect a nice pair of heels.¡±


    Grinning at the dangerous comment, Oliver minded his own ego a little bit. "I know where my allegiance is in this whole sordid situation, is all." Pulling back his sleeve to reveal his watch. "I have to get going, but don''t worry, I will text you further details. We won''t have to worry about an interference if we play our cards right and I abhor mistakes, grave mistakes." Hazel eyes sharpened at Sol before he rose. "Aside from this business trip, I do hope you enjoy your stay in London. It''s a lovely place, despite how despicable it really is." Finishing the last of the coffee, he waved to Sol and took his leave.


    Emilio was just minding his business, until he decided to check his phone. Seeing the recent text was from Sol. Arching his eyebrow at it, he responded back "I know my presence gave you a taste of Europe, but are you sure you''re prepared for the London life?" The idea of Sol being in London was. . . Well, quite interesting. Almost stimulating given how those two were back in their junior high and high school years, it was a bit troubling imagining the young Korean male in London. He hasn''t seen him in a while since well, Sol was atrocious at keeping contact and Emilio''s studying also prevents him to even bother taking a trip to Seoul. Getting caught up in his own thoughts, he didn''t see the following text from Oliver come in. "Hiya! You ready to hang out mate?" "If I wasn''t ready, I wouldn''t be fully clothed right now." He instantly replied back.


    Technically he and Oliver weren''t going to leisurely hang out, there''s business that was to be had. Which interested him, and given that Mathias was tagging along as well, it might end up an investigating affair. Oliver was simply the overseer, the other two were really supposed to be causing all the mischief. As much information out of the situation as possible.


    -several days later-


    "Listen you Italian piece of shit, if you don''t come out of this apartment right now, I''m going to go in there and rip out that precious little treasure you call a cock, alright?" Oliver growled in gutteral German and was getting impatient and told Emilio yesterday that he and his associate from Korea were going to go discuss more strategies and act accordingly tonight. Sol was going to meet the others at a different location unbeknownst to the citizens of London, but due to convenience sake, one of them happened to live not to far away from the area. Just getting him out of his room was the annoying part. It was night time and the wind was picking up, evidence of the chill showing on Oliver''s pink cheeks and nose.


    Leave it to Emilio to completely ignore how Sol figured out the little tidbit of information. Well that took the fun out of it. ¡°Fish n¡¯ chips and a nice cuppa, what is there to prepare for?¡± He left it at that and shoved his phone away, deciding he had enough work ahead of him. He didn¡¯t need any more distractions from Emilio. Blake was his primary target for the time being, and needed to do his best to weasel out some more information about him.


    --


    Sol stared out of his hotel room and noted the brisk wind ruffling the leaves and the fog rolling in quickly. He grimaced and grabbed his warmest jacket and wrapped a scarf around his neck before heading out to the designated location. Their meeting spot was inside a club on a street filled with drunken people entering and leaving as they pleased. No one paid attention to where anyone else was going and their meeting was hidden in plain sight. Sol didn¡¯t have to sneak inside, only to flash the bouncer his ID along with a special card to indicate he wasn¡¯t an everyday guest. After purchasing an old-fashioned, he found his way to a backroom, the loud music of the dance room dulled.


    There were numerous backrooms, VIP rooms and whatnot, again hiding them in plain sight, but Sol noted that the cameras kept a close eye on which door he entered. It seemed he was first to arrive and he slowly took off his scarf and jacket, to reveal a light button-down shirt with a black skinny tie. His hair had been ruffled up a bit in the wind, but was styled neatly. Sol always made sure to keep up his appearances. Now, he would just need to wait for the appearances of the rest of the team.


    "Emilio, I''m going to need you to stop being a smarmy git, I don''t know if everyone''s going to be there by the time we''re there." Oliver said, making sure he was wrapped tightly in a scarf and tunic over his head to conceal his identity as much as possible. Oli was trying his best to prevent the half-Korean from flirting with the females in line as they were almost to the bouncer.


    "I''m sorry, but before I''m stuck in a room with nothing but anry men, I feel the need to release some tension first." He smiled sensuously at one of the modestly dressed women that was several people behind them. Oliver rolled his eyes, before nudging forward to show his ID as Oliver followed suit as they both disappeared into the lively club scene. Weaving through the crowd undetected to reach the backrooms, Oliver had to constantly keep looking back behind himself to make sure Emilio wasn''t getting distracted.


    "I am so glad you''re not my boyfriend . . ." He muttered as he pushed open the door revealing Sol on time and ready for business. "Hiya! I hope you didn''t have trouble finding the place?" Oliver smiled as he took a seat nearby Sol, unwrapping the scarf and tunic hood off his neck. Emilio was approaching the door slowly, still in a daze of a beautiful woman he was trying to talk to earlier, but when he turned his head and saw a painstakingly familiar face, his normally calculating eyes bulged out of his sockets in shock.


    "Emilio this is---"


    "Sol?! What the hell are you doing here?"

 A Botched Plan; New Medicated Emotions

    Sol sat up a bit as Oliver entered in first and saw a familiar Italian man standing behind him, distracted by something, but most likely by someone. Sol had figured as much that Emilio had some role in the gang scene after discovering that he resided in London, but still, he was mildly surprised to find him here tonight. Still, the speechless look on face was enough for him to want to keep his surprise hidden and his amusement evident. ¡°Emilio, nice of you to finally make it.¡± He smirked at the taller man and stood up as they entered the room. He offered a hand to Oliver to shake, but offered no such formal courtesy to Emilio. Obviously, Oliver was a little shocked to find out the two knew each other, but this made things a little easier for Sol.


    He was used to dealing with Emilio and knew for a fact, he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about his competence. It was unclear what he should say to his old friend/rival, but luckily, two more individuals walked in. ¡°We can have our happy reunion later.¡± He wasn¡¯t quite sure if he was happy or annoyed that Emilio was here. After a couple years of no contact, it seemed the tension between them had grown. He took a seat and looked over at Oliver. ¡°Is this everyone?¡±


    The tall man with piercing blue eyes made his way straight to Sol, introducing himself while the other simply took a seat. ¡°Well, hello there,¡± he almost purred in his strong Londoner accent as he shook Sol¡¯s hand. ¡°You¡¯re the man I¡¯ve been hearing all about then. The name¡¯s Ben.¡± ¡°Sol.¡±¡°Ben, sit your arse down. We have business to attend to. You don¡¯t need to suck up to the foreign kid.¡±


    "Well well, if it isn''t my favorite asshole, Ben. Surprised you''re still alive." Emilio acknowledged him with an eyebrow twitch, slightly irritated he was trying to get cozy with Sol, but no matter. He took a seat next to the Romani, Irish lad, who was silent and observed any interaction Sol made. The mahogany haired, tan skin which adorned a beauty mark on his right cheek, a scar that was jagged down from the left side of his neck till his fore arm on the same side and grey eyed male kept to himself.


    But after noticing that Ben suddenly was stroking Sol''s knee, he figured he might as well introduce himself before it escalated further. "Please to meet you Sol, I''m Mihail." His accent mixed with his European roots, he smiled at him before taking his seat next to the irritated Italian who masked it perfectly well, if it wasn''t for the fact his eyes told him how uncomfortable it was having Sol here. The former Kwon High Jjang felt a hand on his thigh, and a stern look that said ''You got to remain focused.'' Sighing, Emilio nodded as Mihail released his hold on him and talked to him calmly in Romanian, knowing well enough that the other mixed male would understand. "I know Ben is an obnoxious kiss ass, but whatever history you and this newcomer have, I don''t want it to cloud your judgement, alright?" Goddamnit, sometimes Em hated when Mihail had to be his voice of reason. It just meant he was losing a bit of self-control. Can''t lose control and it hasn''t even gotten to the nitty gritty yet.


    Sol gave a not-so-friendly glare at Oliver, who smiled sheepishly. This was the biggest hodge-podge of personalities in one room and he wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it. It seemed Ben and Emilio weren¡¯t likely to get along, but Mihail seemed reasonable enough. Though his closeness to Emilio somehow made him a little uncomfortable, he didn¡¯t make it known. However, it seemed he had his own share of attention to deal with. He turned abruptly as he felt a hand on his knee, following it up to a smarmy smile on Ben¡¯s face. Sol¡¯s stone cold reaction was more than enough for Ben to pull back his hand, though he still smiled back. Oliver finally seemed to gather his voice after the introductions simmered down. ¡°So we¡¯re all here to try and take care of Tyrann. We need to act fast. It¡¯ll be better if Sol takes care of Blake by himself. His presence isn¡¯t known and it¡¯ll draw less attention and suspicion. But we¡¯ll need to work together to take down Tyrann, and Vincent.¡±


    Sol took a careful sip from his drink, his attention fully on Oliver. ¡°Someone will need to dispose of the body once I¡¯m done,¡± he glanced over at Emilio, knowing his specialty.


    Emilio looked up immediately as Sol spoke of him and his expertise. Pale eyes met brown for a moment when his rival looked his way. Emilio smirked as he nodded to his assigned role as body disposer. Mihail spoke up afterwards, "And what if you fail? Is there a plan B?" He was thinking from a realistic standpoint, knowing that not just one person can bring Blake down and there''s at least a 65% chance that this assault on him will fail. True leaders never rely on just one option, a few have to be backup. And if there was none past that? Running on instinct was the next best thing.


    "That''s when you come in Mihail, if there''s a chance Sol get''s gravely injured, you''re his backup to at least prevent him from seeing him make an escape to the medic." Oliver notified, as Mihail nodded and looked at Emilio who nodded slowly, not really liking that Sol opted to take on Blake by himself, but didn''t show it. Ben was amused. "I forgot, that the one who takes apart and disposes of the evidence is also the one that mends us. Hopefully you''re gentle with all your patients, Doctor." Emilio merely tilted his head to the side, his eyes sharpening and glaring all the while. "I''ll take care to make sure your treatment is as painful as possible." He slowly smiled, showing a glimpse of his canines. Emilio knew when to play nice, but he also knew when to play by his own rules . . . out of sight from others.


    Oliver ignored the glares from the two men and continued. "After we severely maim or at least dispose of Blake, Vincent and Tyrann are next. I suggest that between that time of attacking Blake to Vincent, we observe from all areas. Ben and Sol, from an outsider''s point of view and I from an in-circle one." He already knew that by being the closest to everyone in the gang, he would be able to uncover every nuance possible. But observations from outside the in-crowd was also necessary as well. Better safe then sorry. "On that note," Oliver reached behind the couch and pulled out a box that had heels in them, leather strapped, black high heels. "which one of you would like to try these bad boys on?" The Germanic man wasn''t stupid, he already knew none of them would leap at the offer. That''s why he did his research and predetermined who would be the perfect bait for Blake.


    Sol resisted the urge to stare daggers at Mihail. He knew the question was valid, he would¡¯ve thought the same thing, but the way it was stated rubbed him the wrong way. Luckily, Oliver took over before Sol had a chance at making a snarky comment. He knew going after Blake was dangerous; he wasn¡¯t an ordinary thug. But that was what made the idea exciting. Sol nodded at Mihail; it would be good to remain civil with his back-up. The team obviously didn¡¯t need more butting heads. It seemed like Ben and Emilio weren¡¯t backing down.


    He watched their bantering with amusement, a small smile creeping up on his face. He wasn¡¯t sure what exactly was putting the two at each other¡¯s throats, but for the time being, it was funny. He nodded in agreement with Oliver. Sol had recalled their plan about luring Blake, but he hadn¡¯t expected one of these gentlemen to be the bait. He let out a small snort as he looked around at the faces of disbelief.


    ¡°You¡¯re joking, mate.¡± Ben stared at the heels and then back at Oliver. Mihail simply shook his head. If he was playing back-up to Sol, heels were out of the question. And if Emilio was playing doctor, there really was only one option.


    ¡°Ben, it¡¯s your time to shine,¡± Mihail responded. Ben¡¯s mouth hung open and he started sputtering objections which everyone else seemed to just laugh at.


    ¡°Bloody hell. I hate you all.¡±


    "I hope you realize, you''ll have at least two hours to try out your new footwear. I just bought these as well, so . . . I expect you in these shoes from now till it''s time for you debut." Arching an eyebrow, Oliver audaciously reached over to Ben''s trousers and pulled the hem from the ankle up over his knee and grimaced. "Mate, we''re going to have to shave you too. The amount of hair you have to play this role is ghastly, even for my eyes." Ben looked so stunned that he had rid himself of some of his leg hair. Before he was capable of forming a retort towards it, Oliver completely ignored him and continued, "The four of you will have small microphones on you. This is a way for everyone to hear not only their own surroundings, but the surroundings of everyone else. You lot will be able to pass codes and messages to each other to keep others out of danger. Address each other according to your job titles. Medic, Backup, Aggressor and Bait." Oliver looked at each of them in as she named them off. At that, she reached further bellow the pair of high heels and splayed out the devices for the other men to take.


    "Tyrann and his crew plan to be at the Bar in East London, they want to celebrate their latest development. It won''t be guarded, however, after tonight, he might throw up guards where he deems fit for his comfort." He cautioned his merry band of men. Nodding at all the men, he confirmed that that was all they needed to know and that it was time to file out. Ben left first, in an irritated bout of annoyance, Oliver followed patting him on the back-- or, so what he deemed was patting even though he sometimes doesn''t understand his own strength. Mihail looked at Emilio, who seemed to be lost in thought. He touched his shoulder to make sure the young man wasn''t overthinking the whole situation. He reciprocated by shaking his head and smiling, grey eyes gleamed before he too, left.


    Now it was just Sol and Emilio. Emilio felt like there was so much he could say to his rival, his friend, his . . . . what is he to him? He certainly get awkward whenever Ben was getting friendly towards him and he knows Sol doesn''t like it when strangers touch him so casually-- he was the first to do that to him in Seoul. Sighing, he looked at the Korean male before he spoke to him in a language all too familiar to him, Korean. "Are you ok with this? Fighting Blake, I mean." Emilio knew he wasn''t doubting him, but given the stakes, he also didn''t want to risk Sol in a state of urgent care either.


    Ben had dropped his head in defeat as he was officially the bait. There was no working around it and he had a two-hour makeover to deal with. Well, he wouldn¡¯t risk his comrades¡¯ lives for nothing. He¡¯d have to be as convincing as possible. Luckily, an alleyway would be dark enough to hide his more masculine features. Still, he grumbled as he walked out of the room, still not happy with how the plans were made. Mihail still seemed uncertain with the plans, but they seemed like the best they could come up with for the time being.


    Sol watched them leave, and watched Emilio linger. Too much time had passed between them talking, but Sol wasn¡¯t sure if now was the right time to sort things out. His eyebrows raised at Emilio¡¯s Korean words of concern and he turned to the other and stared at him intently for a quick moment. He wasn¡¯t quite sure how to comprehend that question. Concern? Doubt? Casual conversation? With Emilio, it was hard to tell. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be doing this if I wasn¡¯t,¡± he stated back matter-of-factly. Sol had been watching Blake for the past few days. The job was dangerous, he knew, but all the jobs in his line of work generally were. Still, this was a higher scale operation than most days. He couldn¡¯t let himself get cocky. Even if he failed, at least Mihail would be there to stop Blake.


    Still, this very moment alone with Emilio felt tense. He hadn¡¯t seen the man in years, yet he also felt a little¡­ angry. Maybe because Emilio left without a trace. Or because Sol was too stubborn to contact him first. Still, there were a lot of things left unsaid between the two, but Sol got up to leave. ¡°I¡¯ll get the job done. Don¡¯t worry.¡± He finished the rest of his drink before setting it down and heading towards the door.


    Eyes narrowed briefly before retaining their usual data-analysis coolness. Emilio and Sol weren''t necessarily the type of men to be . . . open about themselves. They were friends, weren''t they? Or some modicum of it given how much time has passed between the two men since they''ve last spoken. He replayed what Sol had said moments ago and the tone he used it in. The Korean male hardly, if ever expressed nervousness to dangerous situations. Emilio knew that Sol hated being undermined or underestimated even, but he felt that Sol didn''t understand the extent of what kind of man Blake was.


    Maybe something within him was telling him that Sol needed to understand that Emilio, in his own way, cared. But he was so inept at realizing his own feelings, he was pretty much emotionally stunted when expressing it to others. His family by default knew, but that did not mean anything. When he lived in Korea, he detached himself from others quite quickly and for the duration of time he lived there, it was just so easy to reveal very little to prevent a weakness to uncover. He figured by moving to England, he could start anew in the emotional aspect-- rather, lack thereof of Emilio''s personality. He was still closed off romantically, but he was working on his friendships and communicative expressions.


    Sadly enough, whatever companions he made in Seoul stayed there, unless you were Han Sol. He was by far the closest thing he had that was able to tie him to Korea, aside from his mother who visited. He can''t even seem to find it within himself to go "Hey Sol, I really like your company, and I want us to be friends forever, kay?" It was rather out of character, even for him. But he had to say something.


    Noticing Sol was making his way towards the door, he instinctively shot his hand out to grab his wrist. He was still working on saying how he felt through words and not actions, but actions seemed to work far better. He had to at least be brave, it was just the two of them left in this room, say something, anything.


    "Don''t die on me, alright?"


    Back in Seoul, when gangs were everything, Emilio always told that to Sol. No matter what fight or spar the two had. Mostly in a sardonic tone or as his way of saying ''good luck'' but this time, when Emilio''s eyes met Sol''s, they had shown a flicker of vulnerability. The original scrutinizing stare he had given him earlier, softened his features. Trailing his hand down Sol''s wrist to his on hand, sub-consciously, yet lightly playing with his fingertips in a nervous habit of his.


    "Promise me that, Sol."


    ¡°Don¡¯t die on me, alright?¡±


    Sol immediately recognized those words as they provoked a lot of old memories. At the time, back in high school, Emilio repeated these words to annoy Sol. But over time, the simple phrase became part of their ritual before fights. Even though they were rivals, they looked after each other. But now, the same words felt heavy. After not hearing them for so long, they even felt a little unfamiliar. Sol felt a hand on his wrist and sighed slightly as he turned around, initially annoyed, but his expression froze as he saw the look on Emilio¡¯s face. Emilio was well aware of Sol¡¯s skills and limits. His genuine concern made Sol feel a little more cautious about facing this Blake. He nodded his head, his own face softening a bit.


    He hardly seemed to notice the hand on his wrist, then playing with his fingers. He didn¡¯t move to shake Emilio away, but finally found his voice again. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I plan on outliving you, old man.¡± A small smirk appeared on his face, the same look that always accompanied the same response he gave whenever Emilio gave him that phrase before a fight. For a moment, it felt like they were back in high school again. His fingers instinctively squeezed Emilio¡¯s before letting them go as he turned back to leave. He didn¡¯t have any more time to waste.


    ¡°Besides, you¡¯ll be there to patch me up, doc.¡± He had no plans on having Emilio perform impromptu surgery on him, but from all the concern Sol was getting, he needed to be prepared for the worst. He waved his hand at the man behind him and headed out, first to his hotel, then to the designated location.


    His body relaxed in relief knowing that his little, gesture towards Sol didn''t go unwanted. Emilio knew of the risk that the Korean was taking, and wanted to make well-known that he was worried. If his facial expression showed it, it must be a wicked experience. Smirking at Sol''s comment, he quipped "We''ll see about that, junior." Raking his fingers through his hair, he then said "I may be patching you up, but if the damage is severe-- I might have to charge you a fee. I can only spend so much of my time patching up hot-headed Korean boys." Emilio teased in friendly banter, waving as Sol left.


    Leaning back in the chair, he sighed and rose up from his position. "I guess it''s time to prepare for the wounds before they''re even made." Muttering to himself, he took his leave.


    Please let this part of the plan work. Oliver thought to himself, putting on airs and a poker face for his real emotions was tiring. He hated feeling like a trophy prize, when in all honesty, he was taken by force for the sake of imminent loyalty. That loyalty can only stretch so far. Feeling irritable and slightly uncomfortable in the lace dress with a deep V-line cut that ended till above his naval, showing threatening amounts of cleavage, and displaying his proportional thighs, this was a hell he had to sign up for. Luckily for him, his combat boots was able to sheath a 9mm pistol and a knife in case "something" were to happen. But overall, it was for security. His hazel eyed gaze was curbed towards the window, where it appeared that nothing could be seen, but there was something alright.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "Is somethin'' the matter, love?" Tyrann looked down at his gorgeous companion. Oliver looked up at the taller male, her painted red lips forming a smile of sincerity-- even if he didn''t really feel it. "No, just admiring the view."


    "Why must Oliver be so hot? I don''t understand." Ben whined to himself, which backfired considering he forgot he was wired to three others.


    Emilio really wanted to bite his tongue, because the last thing he needed was to start an argument that would lead to Ben to miss his cue and it would throw the whole plan anti-clockwise. Mihail however, sighed for him and then said "Ben, if you want to live another day, I suggest you stay focused and leave Oliver alone." envisioning that Ben probably huffed and pouted because of Mihail''s spoilsport tendencies, he rolled his eyes and continued his vigil.


    "Sol, are you ready?" Emilio asked him in Korea, which earned an "That''s no fair, he''s speaking that new guy''s lang and for all we know, they can be talking about being bent tog--" Then a small punching sound was heard after that comment was made. Emilio wasn''t sure if it was Sol or Mihail who did it, but he wanted to thank whoever before he clobbered Ben''s English mug.


    It was Sol who delivered the hard punch to Ben¡¯s shoulder. Sol was more annoyed with Ben¡¯s lack of focus than his words, really. The young man had enough to worry about without the Englishman distracting everyone, including himself. ¡°Focus,¡± he told Ben sternly who nodded his head in quiet defeat. Sol and Mihail moved into the alleyway, leaving Ben in position by the side door of the bar. ¡°And Emilio, English. Communication needs to stay open on all ends.¡± He was as ready as he¡¯d ever be. He had left his nicer clothes back home, donning on dark clothes to help him hide in the dark alley. He pulled a hood up over his head as he waited. If Blake did get away, at least he¡¯d look like just some average mugger.


    And now they played the waiting game. They waited for Tyrann and his crew to arrive at the bar and observed in quiet, waiting for an opportunity to grab Blake unawares and alone. Lucky for them, their celebrations had left them sloppy. After such a big win, they let their guards down, feeling on top of the world. Well, when you¡¯re at the top, the only place you could go was down. Sol paced in the shadows, trying to keep warm and his blood flowing while he waited. Suddenly, a word from Ben got him to hide behind the dumpster. Mihail was waiting and watching further away, ready to run in if Blake managed to get away.


    Ben was set in place as the bait. Blake, stumbled out, evidently having had a couple drinks to have a smoke. Ben was smart enough to stay where Blake could see him, but not well enough, his face hidden. What the redhead could see though, were long legs and a pair of red high heels. And if on cue, Ben started strutting away, the clacks of his shoes echoing down the alleyway. ¡°Oy, beautiful. How ¡®bout you come inside and get warm?¡± he asked as he followed ¡®her¡¯ down the dark road, hooked onto the bait. Sol held his breath, watching both of them approach. It was now his turn.


    Blake caught up to Ben rather quickly as the ¡®bait¡¯ wasn¡¯t quite used to walking in heels. Still, he did his job, getting them out of sight from the bar. As soon as Blake placed a hand on Ben¡¯s shoulder, he swiveled around and landed a solid punch in his face. Blake flinched back, and in that moment of daze, Sol pinned the redhead against the wall, while the sound of unstable heels could be heard clacking away. ¡°Good luck, Sol,¡± he heard Ben whisper into their earpieces as he ran to the designated safe spot. From there, he could toss his heels and stand lookout.


    The battle was a gruesome one, but the end result was as Emilio had cautioned Sol, which didn''t help that Blake was inadvertently, a more unpredictable fighter as a drunk opposed to an obvious one. Back at Emilio''s apartment, on his bed with a pretty scuffed up Sol, he was tending to his wounds carefully and gingerly. Spreading the antibacterial on his elbows since he managed to start with the more important wounds first before addressing the minor ones.


    "Well, look at it this way, I won''t have to sell your body parts." He smiled morbidly before getting gauze and an elastic bandage. Emilio was actually quite glad that Sol walked away with what was caused to him, he would not have known what he would do if something more severe were to have occurred. Thinking about it, it''s also been quite awhile since he had to treat Sol like this. He would be rowdy and highly irritable when this first started, but then he became more, complacent. Now, it felt foreign and a little intimate given the close proximity and where his hands would have to go to treat him.


    As he continued to disinfect the area, his mind trailed off to the earlier events of the wee hours of the evening.


    "Fuck, that scumbag is faster than one would give him credit for." Ben emerged from the shadows after observing the situation. Mihail tried to intercept the buffoon before he made his limpy escape from being a tousled drunk in a brawl with unknowns. The least the Romani man could offer up was a dislocated shoulder and knees popped out in disturbing places before he trudged his way back to his comrades.


    "Now what do we do? We didn''t quite set up ourselves for this type of failure." Mihail noted that though they had planned for Sol''s possible failure, they didn''t encounter Mihail''s. Or at least, Blake''s escape from the fights. Emilio had leaned down towards Sol, who looked pretty beat up and said "Oliver is never without a plan, I have a feeling that if worse came to worst, there will be a backup with adjustability due to the change in situation." Mihail nodded and Ben suggested that we had better get on a move. This is enough time to hurry out of the alley before they''re spotted by the gang and they were already ill-prepared for Blake, they were beyond unsuited for the consequences of this.


    "Can you get up Sol?" Emilio softly spoke, wondering why he was using this tone of voice than his usual, but went with it.


    "Take off your shirt." Knowing that there were cuts that weren''t visible to the able eye, he had to tend to those as well.


    Sol was in no mood for their usual banter. His glare was ice cold as Emilio joked about not having to sell his body parts. Blake ended up being more prepared than they assumed he would be for a surprise attack. And he ended up being a whole lot quicker and more unpredictable than he could¡¯ve anticipated. Luckily, Sol landed a few heavy blows on the redhead before he managed to retreat so he retained a little dignity. Unluckily, that wasn¡¯t enough to stop him from getting away from Mihail. He wanted to curse at Mihail for letting him get away, but really, he wanted to yell at himself. He was disappointed in his performance and now, the adrenaline had faded. Every injury screamed pain and shame.


    He was stubborn enough to get up on his own at least when the troops came rolling back in. Somehow, with the daze of his injuries and adrenaline, he managed to get back to Emilio¡¯s apartment. He was muttering to himself under his breath, cursing in Korean. He didn¡¯t even bother protesting against Emilio¡¯s treatments, something he would¡¯ve done in the past. He lifted his shirt off at the command, not bothering to think about his injuries. Immediately afterwards, he regretted it.


    He let out a small groan of pain. There was definitely a rib broken. ¡°At the very least,¡± he finally dropped out of his self-pity party, ¡°I don¡¯t think he got a good look at us. But,¡± he paused and winced as Emilio tended to his wounds, ¡°He¡¯ll definitely know it wasn¡¯t a random attack. Bait, plus two aggressors, it¡¯s too obvious.¡± They hadn¡¯t planned on Blake being such a weasel and slipping out between their fingers.


    Sol stared at Emilio at work, realizing then how close he was. However, he was too distracted by the pain to really linger on it for long. He clenched his fists tightly, biting down on his bottom lip, refusing to make a noise as Emilio seemed to be setting his body back into place. He still had a little pride to maintain.


    Hardly perturbed by Sol''s glare, he shrugged and ran his fingers over Sol''s chest, trying to make sure which was a good route to take care of the damaged areas. Reaching over to the small bin of ice, he placed the pack of ice on his ribs, applying appropriate and careful pressure to it. "Yes, but Blake isn''t exactly bright. He''s probably going to tell Tyrann that someone is out to fuck with him by attacking one of his usual guards." Digging around with his other hand, he found ointment and placed it around a cut on his chest that wasn''t that bad. Rubbing the ailment around and onto the area carefully while maintaining a steady hand on the small bag of ice, he looked at his Korean companion intently.


    "Think of it this way, you know what he fights like when he''s intoxicated," Moving the ice to the side of his bed, he then reached behind him and pulled out two tablets of a higher strength of Vicodin and handed it to Sol, along with a glass of water he brought, just in case. "you''ll have your rematch with him soon enough, you just need to heal up before you do anything rash. Now take these and drink this."


    Emilio¡¯s gentle hands ran over Sol¡¯s chest, checking each wound and wrapping each one up appropriately. ¡°We can only hope,¡± Sol grumbled as Emilio played the optimistic role. He couldn¡¯t comprehend how Blake could be that big of an idiot, but if he mistook Ben for a woman, maybe it was possible. He let out a sigh and watched Emilio work, suddenly feeling strangely aware of his closeness and his own lack of clothing. He flinched whenever the makeshift medic prodded a wound too much, but he made no audible objections. Fortunately, he was handed a couple pills shortly. He stared at the Vicodin in his hand, feeling relieved already. These painkillers were strong and something strong was just what Sol wanted. He tossed both of them in his mouth and downed them with a couple gulps of water, handing the glass back to Emilio afterwards. ¡°Now why would I do anything rash?¡± he quipped back. The painkillers were already starting to lighten his mood a bit.


    Blake got away this time, but next time, Sol would be ready. ¡°I always follow the doctor¡¯s orders,¡± he stated sarcastically to Emilio. Sol had a feeling the other man would want him to stay put for a few days, but he really wasn¡¯t the type to do that. The pain started to fade, but Emilio insisted on making sure everything was in order. ¡°Emilio,¡± he paused to yawn, his eyelids feeling a little heavy. He could feel the other man double checking his patched wounds and Sol grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away. ¡°You did your job. Better than I did. So stop prodding me now.¡± He eyes locked onto Emilio¡¯s, slowly letting go of the wrist. This moment alone was starting to feel more intimate than Sol felt comfortable with. He shifted slightly and winced as he leaned back against the headboard of Emilio¡¯s bed. ¡°You¡¯re still an ass though,¡± he added, smirking slightly.


    Emilio''s eyes widened slightly as his wrist was caught and Sol locked eyes with him. Feeling Sol letting go of his wrist and commenting about him being an ass, he smirked "I''m an ass? How so?" He smirked, leaning forward purposely to see what kind of ass he was to Sol. "Because as far as I''m concerned, my ass is pretty fine." He grinned instead of resuming his usual smirking. Suddenly his mind was drawn to the fact that these two men have gone so long without seeing each other that they are being in a small team of differing personalities for such a difficult task at hand. Who knew that these two would be drawn together like this?


    "Sol, I do have a question for you," his voice, slightly softer but still curious. He wasn''t sure if Sol would be willing to answer this the way he figured he would, but since he was on Vicodin, it shouldn''t be too bad. "how have you been since I left Seoul?" His pale eyes were grey now that that question hung in the air. He truthfully was curious and hoped nothing wrong had happened when he abruptly left. He told no one, not even Sol and he in a way, was mildly entitled to knowing where his not-so-annoying-companion went to. But in the same right, Emilio figured that the Korean didn''t care too much, or so he felt his subconscious whispering to him.


    Sol could feel his brain slowing down, but he remained fully aware of Emilio¡¯s presence. ¡°Now if I told you that would take all the fun away.¡±He rolled his eyes as the other took the comment as a compliment and didn¡¯t even bother to give a response. Still, Emilio was sitting closer and suddenly his voice seemed a little softer. He looked back at the other with slightly drowsy eyes, managing to raise an eyebrow at the sudden inquiry on his wellbeing. How had he been since Emilio was gone? What sort of answer was he expecting? ¡°Unbearable,¡± he started off sarcastically, but was growing too tired for the playful banter. ¡°Our successors are shit,¡± he commented on the new Jjangs of Kwon and Hangul high school.


    ¡°Got into Seoul University, but plans changed and I¡¯m here stuck next to you. So overall, not much has changed.¡± Sol didn¡¯t know how much he wanted to get into the details of the past couple years. Of him leaving the gang scene early after one of his top mates got heavily injured. About his decision to attend university, only to fall back into the mafia. Even how annoyed he was that Emilio just got up and left without warning seemed far away.


    ¡°And how is the lovely London sunshine treating you?¡± he joked, knowing full well the sun rarely shined in London, but still, he was curious what Emilio had been up to.


    Snorts with moderate humour at the fact that their successors are as horrible as he predicted. "There can only be one Sol and one Emilio you know. It''s no wonder no one tried to mold themselves in our image." He noticed Sol''s fatigued, but took care not to touch him in any sort of intimate gesture even though it was hard, a lot more difficult than he realised. Chuckling to himself, he said more to himself than to Sol, "Funny how things work out like that."


    Curling his lip lightly as Sol threw the question back at him. He actually pondered what he should tell him. That leaving for London wasn''t exactly what he wanted, that Sol wasn''t with him at any point of his travels, that he wishes that he actually gave him a more polite goodbye than the sudden vanish. All in all, London was quite . . . "It would have been a lot better if someone I left back in Seoul came with me instead." He wasn''t going to outright say that it''s Sol, but he also wasn''t going to admit it either. He remembered that he invited Sol over to his apartment the week before he was supposed to leave, but figured Sol didn''t think anything of it at the time. Emilio remembered it was like yesterday.


    "Hey Sol, what do you think your life will be like if I wasn''t here?" Emilio''s eighteen year old self was lying leisurely on his bed, a half-buttoned up top on and simple black jeans. His usual smug smirk replaced with steel blue eyes, decipherable with emotion that only could be picked up by a certain enigma. "Would you be bored, would you not care," he paused a little bit before he added the last one, gingerly. "Would you miss me?"


    "I''m slaving away at school, making money with body parts and organs. . . Ironically, I wasn''t involved in many gang activity until I met Mihail, who introduced me to Oliver." Funny how Emilio''s first few friends in London was an ex-mercenary and a second-in-command to a tyrannical gang. "What did you think my life would have been like?"


    If someone back in Seoul came with him¡­ Sol¡¯s mind was working too slow to work out that it could possibly be himself, even if it was, he would doubt it. He simply nodded his head, recalling the last time they spoke. Nothing really seemed special or different that day. ¡°Must be someone special if you¡¯re holding regrets. I didn¡¯t even get a goodbye.¡± He shifted in the bed as he recalled the last time they spoke.


    Sol turned to Emilio, his eyebrows raised as Emilio asked him a series of questions. He shrugged his shoulders, not really noticing the gravity behind the questions. ¡°Hm, if you were gone¡­¡± he mulled over the words, pretending to be fantasizing about it. ¡°Well, wouldn¡¯t that be a wonderful world.¡± He smirked, taking an extra step away from Emilio, feeling like the other would probably take a swing at him. He never thought twice about the question.


    ¡°Fucking Mihail,¡± he muttered under his breath, not liking his name brought up in the conversation. Mihail had failed his job as much as Sol had. Plus Sol didn¡¯t fully trust the man. And in the back of his mind, he was remembering how close he was sitting to Emilio when the whole team had met for the first time. He thought about the question that Emilio returned to him. What had he envisioned Emilio was up to while he was gone? ¡°Emilio would have a life of many adventures and lovers, wherever he is.¡± Sol smirked slightly though his brain was feeling confused. Whether it was the drugs, the exhaustion post-adrenaline, the sudden reunion, a failed fight¡­ Sol suddenly felt a little sentimental. ¡°Hey asshat, I¡¯m never saying this again, but it¡¯s nice seeing that you¡¯re okay.¡± It was the closest he would get to saying he missed Emilio.


    A small smile featured on his lips, "If it makes you feel any better, I told no one I was leaving. I," he paused, not knowing how to word it delicately, but made do. "figured that no one cared." He didn''t verbally say goodbye, it would make things . . . Too emotional.


    Emilio''s expression softened, momentarily looking a little hurt. But he also couldn''t blame Sol, he doesn''t realize the extent of why he was asking him these questions. They''re both stubborn Jjangs and they don''t openly discuss their feelings lest one of them decided to use it against the other. "I figured as much. Don''t worry, I wouldn''t miss you either if that makes you felt better." He whispered, with a smile that would never reach his now grey eyes. That was his last lie he would give to Sol, if they ever saw each other again.


    "Yes, Mihail. It seems you''re not a big fan of him so far. He''s a nice guy, just a father trying to support his child." Before he said anything, he figured he could ease Sol''s drugged mind a little bit. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn''t sleep with him." Sex wasn''t an option with how drunk Emilio was the first time he met Mihail, luckily the older man didn''t let it bother him.


    Grinning now at Sol''s answer, he gave an honest laugh. "My life has slowed down tremendously, even the amount of lovers I have has dwindled exponentially." Women, yes, men, came far and few. Very few men, indeed. Probably because he couldn''t imagine being with another man that didn''t look like Sol.


    His smile was probably brighter than any smile he''s given Sol, even his dimples decided to dent the sides of his cheeks. "Would you believe me if I told you I felt the same?" He knew this was as close to an "I miss you" he''ll get from Sol, but he also understood reading between the lines of an enigmatic man like him.


    Somehow, Sol figured Emilio wasn¡¯t one for sad good-byes. It didn¡¯t change how Sol felt when Emilio vanished, but it was what it was.


    Emilio¡¯s words, even if they meant nothing, still hurt somehow. Even if Sol brushed it aside as nothing, if he really paused to consider what would happen if he left, it twisted his stomach into strange, uncomfortable knots. He knew that Emilio was due to graduate soon and in all honesty, they never talked about their future plans or dreams. It really was possible that Emilio would leave soon. As a defense mechanism, he did his best to ignore it all. ¡°Hm,¡± was all he could manage as a response before swiftly changing the subject to unimportant things about their gangs.


    He shrugged his shoulders, but really, it did make him feel better. However, he ignored the rest about Mihail being a nice guy. It didn¡¯t matter if he was a nice guy; plenty of people were nice guys. That didn¡¯t mean Sol liked them. He blinked dumbly at Emilio¡¯s honest response as he didn¡¯t expect it. He hadn¡¯t expected the other¡¯s love life to dwindle, especially in a big city like London. Still, Emilio¡¯s genuine smile couldn¡¯t help but bring a smile on Sol¡¯s face. ¡°I would believe you from just your stupid grin.¡± It was their way of saying, yeah, I missed you without having to bring themselves to say it. It had been a while since Sol had been around someone who could actually understand him.


    ¡°You know, Emilio, I actually started to like you before you left.¡± His tone was more serious suddenly; Emilio¡¯s own honest response evoking one in Sol. Considering he could have died tonight, it was about time to clear the air. Maybe it would ease up the tension he felt since running into Emilio in London.


    His large smile turned small, a mildly shocked eye bulge at Sol''s own confession. Did Sol just admit what he thought he admitted? Tilting his head slightly, his voice a little softer, "What do you mean? I figured you always liked me, at least my company." He didn''t know what else to make of it if that wasn''t the case. Emilio didn''t want to get his hopes up, so he just looked into Sol''s mocha eyes.


    Sol at least got the satisfaction of shocking Emilio. When the other man asked for clarification, he hesitated. He wasn¡¯t sure what else he expected as a response. He yawned then, reminded of his exhaustion in the midst of all the emotion and chaos. ¡°I mean exactly what I said.¡± He stared back at Emilio, suddenly feeling warm. He really didn¡¯t expect Emilio to be dense, but maybe the other man was playing dumb to spare his feelings. Still, he had already come this far and he was getting too tired and loopy to play the enigmatic game. ¡°I liked you. And you left.¡± He lowered his gaze then, afraid to see Emilio¡¯s next response.


    If he wasn''t taken aback before, he was now. He didn''t think Sol would even think of someone like him in that way. But he also didn''t think he would ever confess it, or even the fact that Emilio himself would agree with it. Noticing that Sol''s expression was warming to his cheeks and the rest of his body, he gave him an assuring smile before licking his lips, not knowing exactly what was the right thing to say. He knew Sol wasn''t messing with him, but. . . This caught him completely off guard. Mustering up his own amount of courage towards the other male, he leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of Sol''s lips, letting it linger longer than it should. It wasn''t quite an actual kiss, but they could work up to that later. "That should be enough of an answer for you, il mio ragazzo coreano." The pet name he always called Sol seemed far more intimate given what the two men confessed to one another. He intended it to be that way.


    "You should sleep, I''m already a bad doctor for keeping you awake this long." Standing slowly, unsure how he felt about gravity trying to pull him down. Emilio pulled his favorite faux-fur snow leopard blanket over Sol''s bare torso, careful not to touch any of his injuries. Reaching behind Sol, he dimmed the light so that in case his patient needed to get up in the middle of the night, he wouldn''t have to worry about stepping on unfamiliar items. Finishing up, he slowly turned to leave, making sure he didn''t forget anything.


    He suddenly felt lips pressed against his lips, stunned. It was Emilio¡¯s own way of responding to Sol¡¯s confession. Emilio, while he slept around, rarely shared kisses, revealing once to Sol that he thought they were too intimate and special. Sol had laughed at the idea then, not really seeing what the big fuss was about, but now it made the kiss from Emilio feel different than any other. He let out a small sigh of relief, his body relaxing for once. ¡°Yeah, you are a pretty terrible doctor,¡± he retorted as he slowly laid down, listening to his doctor¡¯s orders without much complaint though. The Vicodin had taken all the pain away, but now it left him feeling like he was moving through a cloud. Or maybe it was the kiss that had him feeling that way. Sol watched Emilio leave, giving him a small smile before closing his eyes.

 Preview: Catching On; New Plan

    Replaying what had happened at that gaudy meeting, Oliver closed his eyes and continued. "The others don''t think it was just a coincidence that Blake came back with bruises. Vincent was the one that spoke up on that regard. . . "


    "What do you mean it could have been a set-up? Who the hell would dare challenge us?" Tyrann slammed his fist on the expensive glass table, ignoring the fact that his hand was pounding and a few shards of glass stuck stubbornly to his knuckles. His eyes were blood shot red whether it be from all the marijuana he smoked celebratorily or he was completely outraged. A mixture of both was Oliver''s guess as she listened to what the other member''s had to say. None of them however, had a more intellectual point of view than Vincent.


    "Well, there are many others that are after our power and fame, couldn''t it be obvious that they want to see our downfall?" Vincent moved from behind several others, taking long strides to appear before Tyrann, unthreatening and concerned. "Plus, I find it highly odd that one would simply target out Blake, out of the lot of us that were present. Wouldn''t you daresay that''s a little peculiar?" He propped the backside of his hand to keeping his head up as he glanced around the room of potential suspects.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Tyrann looked a little confused, even a bit distraught that after all he''s done for this group of men, women, and even some young teenagers, someone among them would try to stab him in the back like this. His head was swarming around too much to think coherently about the idea and yelled out in an irritated manner "Everyone get the fuck out!" Everyone included everyone of lower status, Vincent and Oliver remained however. After a long silence and hearing the final gang member leaving the room and closing the door, Vincent walked towards Tyrann and Oliver, who sat next to their leader this entire time.


    "You''ve made many enemies in the past Tyrann, I suggest you carefully pinpoint who could be after you." He ran his fingers through his neck length auburn hair, turning his piercing black eyes at Oliver. He didn''t feel the least threatened, especially in the attire he was in. "I also suggest you take great care of looking after your clan, Oliver." The German male''s expression didn''t falter, even when Vincent chose to be bold and stroke the underside of his chin "It would be ashame if one within the bunch turns out to be the rotten weasel, wouldn''t it?" Smirking, he released his chin and dismissed himself. Vincent may have left, but that didn''t stop Oliver''s fuming and knuckles to turn white as she had to babysit the leader for the rest of the evening.


    "Vincent suspects, but he also has no proof. He takes pride in all the bollocks he likes to talk up." Oliver sighed, looking between his men. "I have an idea to propose, but I''d rather hear what the rest of you have to say, given the information I have shared with you."