acatwhowrites: (Xiumin♡Poufsouffle represent)
A Cat Who Writes ([personal profile] acatwhowrites) wrote2014-02-12 03:22 pm

Wedding Vows

title: Weding Vows
players: Kim Minseok/Xiumin, Lu Han/Luhan
word count: 1,360
rating: PG-13
warnings: character death
summary: Minseok and Lu Han are spies. They're married. Their new assignments are some of the most difficult either have ever received.
a/n: Written for a prompt on the [personal profile] exopromptmeme. I'm not too pleased with this, but it was a fun idea.

His body was loose and relaxed, an arm slung over the edge of the mattress, but his mind was in turmoil. The metaphorical hamster on its wheel would not take a break, even as it impossibly sweat through its fur and dampened its wood shavings. Lu Han turned onto his side, tucking his arm under his head, and stared blearily around the bedroom.

Everything glowed an ethereal silver with pale shadows. The off-white walls sported framed posters of Manchester United and even an autographed jersey .Photos lined the top of the tall dresser directly across from the foot of the bed. Lu Han could see the wild bed head on his reflection, but he was more interested in the photos. Even without proper lighting, he knew what each frame held, having looked at them every time he passed the dresser. A couple had friends and pets. Most were of him and/or Minseok. The gem of the lot was their wedding photo, taken in New York when Minseok had essentially kidnapped him for a spontaneous holiday.

He sat up in bed, pulling his knees to his chest and dropping his forehead against the bony kneecaps. The clock beside the bed read 02:25 AM in digital green, cutting through the dimness of the early morning that filled the room. The curtains hung open, allowing a view over Seoul's nightlife. He usually drew them before bed, but he had been admittedly too enraptured with tearing his husband’s clothes off.Beside him, Minseok rolled onto his back. He sighed in his sleep, and Lu Han wanted to cry at the blatant ease and comfort his husband felt sharing the same bed. He probably didn’t know about the gun beneath the mattress or knives behind the headboard, all within easy reach.

Lu Han slipped out of bed and began to dress. He had to time this right.

He tugged his gun from beneath the mattress, watching his husband’s profile for any signs of distress or waking. Seeing none, he grabbed his pillow and rounded the bed to the side Minseok slept on. His shadow cut across the man’s throat and slithered up his boyish face. He always looked even younger while asleep.

Covering the end of the gun barrel with the pillow, Lu Han gently eased it over Minseok’s face.

He never expected it to be easy, but he had hoped it would be quick. When Minseok’s arm snapped up, fingers surrounding Lu Han’s wrist, his heart plummeted. He couldn’t let his husband see him like this. He couldn’t let his final moments be a struggle or heartbreaking in the cracking ice of lies that their relationship skated on.

He tried to fight out of the grip, but Minseok had always been stronger than he looked, having practiced years of fencing and martial arts along with playing soccer with Lu Han and their friends.

Lu Han’s world spun. He found himself on his back, arms pinned up over his head and at his shoulder. He noticed, frowning, that Minseok didn’t look angry or shocked.

If anything, he looked sad, softly smiling like he was exhausted although his eyes were bright.

“You weren’t asleep.”

“I was waiting for you.” His fingers tightened around Lu Han’s wrist.

An unexpected development. “What now?”

Minseok leaned down for a kiss that Lu Han stretched to meet halfway, whispers of love clearly heard in the silence of the morning. He dropped his hips against Lu Han’s, keeping his weight on his elbows.

Lu Han’s fingers released their hold on the butt of the pistol, all too willing to join the tangle of writhing limbs as he and Minseok rolled together, kicking pillows and sheets off the bed. They fell off the bed entirely at some point. Neither cared, too wrapped up in one another and landing on a pile of blankets.

The sun rose slowly, dragging its warm fingers of sunbeams along the floor and tickling bare feet that tucked away beneath a crumpled duvet until there was no where to hide from the light.

Minseok leaned against the bed. Lu Han leaned against him, head on his shoulder.

“You knew. . .” Lu Han spoke softly, but he may as well have shouted in the stillness of their silence.

“I got a similar one.” Orders. It didn't matter from who. Lu Han worked for China before transferring to Korea, but an early assignment had been a simple honey trap involving another employee from the firm Minseok worked for as a cover. They dated and fell in love with their secrets lighter than their emotional baggage.

If Lu Han was shocked about the order, he didn’t show it. Things made a lot more sense, suddenly. A rusty gear fell into place, and Lu Han understood. Sometimes, it had felt as though their life together, even while dating, was a puzzle with pieces shoved where they didn’t belong, twisted and flipped until they fit but with gaps in-between. Now, those pieces fit in another puzzle altogether, showing an image Lu Han never imagined.

“What are we going to do?”

Minseok slotted his fingers between Lu Han’s, palms and wrists together. He kissed Lu Han’s hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo. Mint and eucalyptus. A scent Minseok introduced him to years ago. “If you want to come with me, to New York, I have to give you something.”

If. As if there was still a choice then. Carrying out their assignments would be simple, now, while they were tired, but they were both exhausted physically and emotionally. It showed in their eyes. Some things just had to end eventually.

The blond sat up to look at him curiously. “What’s that?”

“An antidote.”

The smile froze on Lu Han’s face.

“You were the last one. I didn’t want to hurt you. . . I thought poison would be best. You’d just fall into a coma and die in your sleep.” He squeezed Lu Han’s hand, but they could both feel him trembling. Every coffee, tea, plate of food, snack, and dessert was a weapon against Lu Han.

And he'd accepted each treat with a grateful smile and a kiss.

Minseok pushed the abandoned pistol further beneath the bed and narrowed his eyes. “Were you really going to shoot me?”

A half-shrug. “I was going to try.”

“It would’ve hurt if you’d not done it properly.”

“I know.” They share a wry smile. Minseok's slipped a little as he touched Lu Han's face, fingers tracing over lines and wrinkles he was intimately familiar with and settling on lips that drew him in once again to send a thrill down his spine that never lessened in its intensity.

“Please come with me," he spoke against Lu Han's mouth, kissing him with each pause. "I don’t want to die, but I’ll die without you.”

“We both promised, didn’t we? New York. Til death do us part.” Lu Han brought their laced fingers up to his lips. “I’m not ready to part with you just yet.”

Minseok and Lu Han walked among the hundreds of thousands of individuals, blending into an analogous crowd to the average, uninterested observer.

High above the clogged sidewalks and streets, one interested and highly paid observer picked the couple out by laser scope. Red crosshairs leveled on one narrow back. The shorter of the two raised his arm and smiled at his partner.

Minseok raised his arm to hail a cab and grinned when he was enveloped by Lu Han’s arms from behind.

Lu Han kissed his neck, humming with giddy laughter. They were far from Seoul and feeling freer every second when the hairs on their arms stood on end.

It was New York City. No one heard the high-powered zip of the bullet that shattered Lu Han’s shoulder blade, tore through his heart, and cleaved Minseok’s back and mangled his chest. Mere seconds after a taxi drove up to the curb and Minseok smiled over his shoulder, they tumbled into the back seat.

Someone bumped the door shut, and the unconventional hearse pulled away form the curb to merge with traffic.