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If anyone ever asked Chan what he wanted to be when he grew up, he’d tell them he wanted to be a superhero. He wanted to be the good guy who flew around and stopped the bad guys. If anyone ever asked Chan what he thought he’d be doing when he grew up, he’d never say this.
Because who would want this?
Chan scoffed as he watched the building burn across the street, money flying around and smacking the wet pavement as screams and sirens filled his ears.
Who would want to live like this?
Chan turned, keeping his hood over his messy dark curls, white wolf mask covered in ash and splattered blood as he walked through the chaos around him. The screams fed him, literally. The louder the scream the more alive he felt.
It was sick, wasn’t it? Of all the things Chan could get from a major explosion in their small town, he was stuck with this. What benefit was feeding off of peoples screams? And it wasn’t like he could stop. The screams kept him from wanting to jump off a building—which oh , he’d tried to do once before. But he was apparently invincible too and just got back up after his broken bones had snapped back into place. And the only way to keep himself from being that miserable again, was causing chaos.
Chan never wanted this. He wanted to be the good guy. He wanted to be the one to correct the screaming. But instead here he was, causing explosions in buildings and feasting off of the screams around him. He’d even gotten used to the blood curdling cries with time—Fuck. He really was a fucking villain, wasn’t he?
And he felt like he was in a fucking Batman film or something. Because with every incident, around the corner was the fucking star boy of the city.
Chan didn’t know his name. He stupidly went by The Claw, which Chan assumed was the stupidest hero name of all time. But whatever. Chan went by Bang. Just Bang. Because that’s what he did. Caused a lot of fucking bangs. It was so pitiful. But Chan couldn’t stop his life now. This is just how it had to be. He’d cause issues, sometimes get into a fight with the superhero who had a fucking hover board, and somehow get away. Every time.
It was like a cat and mouse. And Chan found himself winning more than The Claw. What a joke of a hero. Chan always beat him. The Claw didn’t even try half the time. He just... did what the tv superheroes did and let Chan go every time.
Somehow the world still saw that man as a saint. Even if he was absolute shit at catching the bad guys.
Chan inhaled as he stared out his window, eyes focusing on the smoke billowing from the building he’d destroyed hours before. Chan found it odd that The Claw hadn’t shown up to fight. He was shocked to see the building was even still smoking.
Where was their precious superhero?
Chan scoffed before sliding the mask from his face and setting it into his desk drawer before peeling his hoodie from his exhausted skin. He could use a glass of wine. Maybe two.
Maybe three—.
Chan perked at the sound of weak tapping at his door.
He lived in a penthouse in one of the tallest buildings in the city. He was... Chan was somewhat of a celebrity. He was the heir to a company. The perfect villain origin, he assumed. So it wasn’t odd to get someone at his door so late, but there was something off about the strange feeling Chan got as he made his way to his door, checking himself in the mirror. Of course he looked fine enough, before he opened the door.
No matter who it was, they were probably harmless—.
Hold the italicized oh.
Oh fucking shit.
Chan stared for a moment before swallowing hard, trying to settle the nerves in his stomach. This must have been a mistake. Or some sick joke. Or maybe Chan was dreaming. Or dead.
There was no way that he was here. This was a mistake.
“Hello?” Chan started, pretending like he was just a regular person— “aren’t you The Claw, the super—.” Chan stopped, taking in the state of the man in front of him.
He had blood caked along the side of his face and drenching into his mask, his heroic costume torn in places that exposed bruising at his skin, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were so unfocused.
Dangerously unfocused.
Chan watched the man a moment in silence before The Claw looked at him with teary eyes. “I didn’t know where else to go,” and then the tension filled the room. Making things so uncomfortable that Chan almost shut the door on him, “Bang.”
Oh shit.
“I don’t know what you’re—.”
The Claw stumbled forwards, Chan catching him as he hit his chest. He reeked of alcohol, but the way he was slurring his speech and moving around... there was way more to this than alcohol.
Chan ignored the horrible thoughts in his head as the man whispered incoherently against him. He was actually more... worried than he should have been.
This was actually a perfect opportunity to finally destroy The Claw. He knew that because of the blast The Claw must have also been invincible, but Chan could lock him away forever. He could get his company to bury him in concrete. He could throw him into the sea—.
No.
Chan took in the horrible state of the hero before dragging him to his couch, the man whimpering as Chan lay him down.
He looked so bad... and Chan wasn’t sure what had happened to him, but whatever it was must have been horrific. Chan watched The Claw as he sweat bullets and murmured in pain, and part of Chan wanted to tear the eye mask wrapped around his face so he could properly see what this man looked like.
But he couldn’t.
The Claw’s eyes fluttered, and soon he was sleeping soundly, his breaths strained and body finally seeming to relax.
What the hell?
Chan watched the man sleep as he sat on the lounge chair, arms crossed at his chest.
The Claw knew where Chan lived. He knew who Chan was?! The entire time he knew. And yet he continued to let Chan... what? Chan had... injured and killed so many for the sake of their screams. How could he just...
Chan made his way to the kitchen. What was Chan doing? He wet a cloth and squeezed the excess water before rushing back to the couch. Chan waited a moment before leaning forward, looking the man over again as he lay the wet cloth at his forehead. He was so... damaged. He had so many bruises and his clothes were torn in such... Chan’s stomach turned. What the hell had happened to him?
He sat in his questions in silence for what felt like hours until he heard stirring at his couch. Chan perked up as the hero pulled himself up in the pillows, sweat beating down the side of his face as he brought his hand to his head, feeling the cloth with his fingers.
Chan stayed silent, biting the inside of his cheek as the hero adjusted himself with a whine that made Chan furrow his brows in worry. Worry? Why did he care?
Maybe it was the state of the hero. He’d never seen him so... broken. Was broken the right word for this? He had no idea what had happened but he could tell it was bad. And as The Claw finally looked at Chan his entire chest heated.
“You...”
Chan was silent for only seconds, “why did you come here?”
The Claw watched Chan before his eyes glossed, Chan biting into his cheek harder.
And without words, the man on his couch slipped the mask from his face and lay it onto the coffee table. And for the first time, Chan was really seeing him. And he’d stare at those eyes a little longer if they didn’t flood with tears.
He was crying. And Chan wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t sure what to do at all.
“I didn’t know where else to go...” those words stung. The same words he’d said at Chan’s door. But they felt worse this time. They were harsh.
Chan swallowed hard as he watched the hero cry and cup his face into his shaky hands.
He had every chance to finally... no. Chan wasn’t like that, right? He wasn’t actually evil—. Chan watched the hero crying on his couch. He wasn’t that evil. He couldn’t do this while this man had clearly been... he had been through a lot.
Chan pulled up from his chair to crouch by the man, noises he’d never heard slipping from his lips as he watched him.
“Hey?”
The man took a breath before removing his hands. His face was so small and... delicate? Was delicate the word to think of while looking at his sworn enemy. Was he the enemy?
The Claw turned to Chan, his bottom lip trembling as tears ran down his face in streaks, “why didn’t you kill me?”
Chan felt taken aback by that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—.”
“Bang.” Chan’s face went cold. “Bang Chan. Bang...”
“I’m not—.”
“I know who you are.” The hero's voice was so soft. Lacking it's usually confidence.
Chan inhaled, “well then allow me to ask you something. If you know who I am, why would you come here? Why wouldn’t you turn me in—.”
“I didn’t want to.” The man whispered back before bringing his sleeve to his face, Chan grimacing at the tear around his wrist.
“Why are you here?”
The Claw bit into his bottom lip, “I had nowhere else to go...”
“You’re a superhero and you’re telling me—.”
“Look at me.”
Chan’s heart broke.
“When I take this costume off... I’m no one.” The man whispered before shakily sitting himself upright, strain across his face as he moved. God. “I don’t know what I’m doing here... I thought you’d take the opportunity to just kill me.”
“You’re invincible—.”
“It crossed your mind, didn’t it? Tearing me apart? You have all this money. I know you had so many options and yet...” The Claw reached for the wet rag that had slipped onto his lap, “you don’t.”
“Did you come here to die?”
The Claw was silent.
“I’m... I know what I’ve done is horrible. Inexcusable. The things I do to feel alive... to feel human, are terrible. I know that. But... I’m not a monster. ”
“Why did you help me?”
Chan swallowed thickly before standing upright, the hero looking him in the eye, “how can I let anyone tear you apart besides me?!”
The Claw watched Chan with sorrowful eyes.
“Who did this to you?”
“Bang...”
“My name is Chan. When that mask isn’t on my face, I’m Chan. You know that.” He whispered as the man’s eyes dragged away from Chan’s. “Who did this?”
“I don’t understand...”
Chan crouched down again, capturing Minho’s shaky eyes, “what happened?”
“I can’t...”
“Your mask is off.”
The Claw swallowed hard.
“Mine is too. I’m not your enemy right now. Tell me who hurt you.”
“... I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. You came in stumbling. You were clearly intoxicated and drugged. What happened?” Chan asked firmly, the hero giving him a sad glimpse before bringing a shaky hand to brush along his own lips.
“I was... I heard there was another explosion. It was you... I was on my way to stop you.”
He was so shaky. So unbelievably shaky.
“I don’t know what happened. But I got stopped. I was on my way and... something new. Someone new...”
“New?” Chan grit his teeth at the thought of another villain lurking around.
“They teleport... or something like that. They got my board and I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t see any of it coming.”
“What happened?”
“They did something to me.” Minho turned his hands over in his lap, staring at his scratched palms. He must have hit the concrete when his board had been taken.
Chan took a deep breath, “Claw—.”
“I don’t want to be The Claw right now...” the man whispered before sliding his legs off of the couch, Chan’s heart breaking as the man’s brows knitted and he released a pained noise.
Chan backed away slightly to give the hero room, “what’s your name?”
The man tried to move, only to whimper out and crawl back into the couch facing away from Chan, his fingers brushing along his hip. And god... the tears in the costume around his legs caused Chan to clench his fists.
Chan was enraged.
“Who the fuck did this—.”
“My name is Minho.”
Minho.
Chan took a deep breath, trying to collect himself as his eyes hurried away from the bruised skin showing through the tears and seemingly deliberate cuts in his costume. He didn’t know what to say. He was too angry.
Minho turned slowly before dragging the blanket from behind Chan’s couch down, attempting to pull it over himself.
Chan hissed, moving to grab the blanket from the man, opening it fully before watching the hero lay back, Chan laying the blanket over him.
But it only lasted seconds before Minho burst into tears again, murmuring something about the pain.
Something in Chan would have snapped had it not been for his heart begging him to make things as comfortable as possible for the disturbed hero on his couch.
Chan kept his anger inside as he brushed his hand behind Minho’s back while he helped the man sit back up, his face immediately drowning in his hands again. He was so distraught. He was so incredibly broken that Chan couldn’t even believe it. The chipper hero who would smile on television and help anyone he could, was sitting on his sworn enemies couch in tears. And Chan didn’t know what to do.
“How long does it take for you to heal?” Chan whispered as the sounds of Minho sobbing again got to him.
Minho withdrew his hands, pitiful state of his face making Chan’s stomach turn, “cuts... and bruises don’t take long. They don't... but this?” Minho couldn’t even finish before he was trembling again.
And maybe Chan shouldn’t have his hand back on Minho’s back, rubbing circles, but he was.
“Is there anyone I can call... is there anything I can do?” Chan asked after Minho had finally calmed down, his face still and eyes half lidded as he sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around his frame. Chan had somehow found himself on the couch beside him, the man slightly curled into his side though Chan didn’t dare move or touch him again.
“No.”
“Family? A friend? A sidekick—.”
“I live in a rundown apartment building. The ceiling leaks. The windows are boarded.”
Chan frowned.
“I don’t have a sidekick. I don’t have friends. I don’t have family.” Minho laughed at that, albeit without the usual boisterous glow he’d have when giving interviews, “I’m the perfect tragic hero. No one.”
Not even friends?
“There has to be someone...”
“Before the explosion... the one that caused all of these anomalies. I was nothing.” Chan listened closely as Minho spoke, “I struggled to even leave my apartment to work. I was nothing. I was just a hermit living in anxiety every waking minute. I boarded myself up the best I could in my apartment and would work from home at every given chance.”
Chan shifted slightly as Minho pulled himself up from the closeness to Chan, “that explosion was the best thing that ever happened to me... I thought.” Minho’s lip was quivering again, “I really thought nothing bad could ever happen to me... that the mask kept me safe but—.” He was going to crumble again.
“You don’t have to...”
“I didn’t think someone would attack me like that. Not me... I thought I really was invincible in every regard. I didn’t think anyone would ever do that to me...”
Chan bit into his lip again, “Minho...”
“Maybe this is karma. For all the times I let you go. I shouldn’t let the bad guys go... I shouldn’t let them roam. Not after this...” Minho was sputtering through his sentences, “maybe if I set examples... maybe if I’d done better to clean up the streets I wouldn’t have been hit with this... I don’t even remember anything after the second person touched me.”
Hearing it aloud only made things feel ten times heavier. And it only made Chan even more upset.
“I shouldn’t have let you roam just because I was fascinated with you... you’ve killed so many people. And I just... didn’t want you to vanish. I just... of course someone took advantage of that.”
“Stop...” Chan brought a hand to Minho’s face, the man winching as Chan ran his thumb under his eye to catch his tear, “this isn’t your fault... it’s not.”
Minho watched Chan before swallowing and taking a deep breath, “if I had caught you... they wouldn’t need a hero anymore. And... a hero is all I am. It’s all I have.”
Chan watched Minho in agony.
“You’re the big bad villain... you’re the news. You keep the city needing me... without you I can’t exist.”
“I...”
“I remember when I found out who you were... it was so long ago.” Chan bit his bottom lip hard, hard enough to feel the taste of his own blood, “I wanted to... I was going to expose you. This company you were under... you’re living like fucking Batman and you cause so much trouble... but... you’re not even a bad guy.”
Chan took a deep breath.
“You... literally have donations set up across the city. You even worked on repairing the damage you caused... and I know it doesn’t make up for the loss of life but... you're not the monster I thought you were. So why would I turn you in? Not only would I have nothing to do anymore... but to turn you in would destroy all of the good...”
“Stop.” Chan whispered as he pulled Minho’s face up by the chin, “Minho... who the fuck hurt you?”
The hero blinked slowly, Chan only felt ten times worse to see the hero crumbling in front of him.
“He didn’t touch me... it wasn’t—.”
“I don’t care if he’s the one who hurt you or if it was his lackeys, who did this?”
“What are you going to do...? You can’t kill him—.”
Chan grit his teeth, “who did this to you?”
“Chan...”
“Please. For the sake of this never happening again. To anyone. If this ever happens to anyone else...”
Minho shivered, “he said to call him Portal.”
Chan watched Minho closely before releasing his chin, “where did he abduct you from?”
“It’s closer to where I live... the underground tunnel. I use it because it’s so safe... was safe.”
Chan slid himself from the couch, Minho’s face tensing as he gripped the blanket tight.
“I won’t do anything tonight.”
Minho watched him wordlessly.
“Do you want to clean up... I can get you fresh clothes and my spa bath might help...”
Minho looked like he’d cry again.
“I can get my tailor to repair your costume too. She knows who I am and wouldn’t dare say a word about—.”
Minho leaned over, face in his hands again. And this time Chan stepped forward to run his fingers through the man's hair. It was so soft.
“Minho...”
“Why are you doing this?” Minho sniffled as he raised his face, watching Chan closely, “why?”
“I told you...”
“You don’t have to take care of me... you don’t have to help me beyond what you’ve already done.”
Chan grabbed Minho’s face in his hands this time, lifting his face to look Chan in the eye, “I’m not Bang right now. I’m Chan. And Chan wants to clean this blood off of you and get you into some warm clothes, okay?”
Minho’s eyes were shaky.
“I won’t watch...” Chan removed his hands from Minho’s face, sliding one into his pocket as the other outstretched towards the man, “just let me help you.”
Minho took Chan’s hand, sliding off of the couch with a whine that had Chan’s heart pounding.
“Can you make it?” Chan asked as he held Minho’s hand tight, eyes shaking at the sight of how wobbly Minho was. “Can I carry you?”
Minho frowned at that before giving Chan a weak nod.
Chan took a deep breath before hooking one arm behind Minho’s knees, sliding the other to his lower back as the hero draped an arm around him.
He wasn’t that heavy at all.
Chan hummed to himself as he held the broken hero in his arms before making his way to the back of his penthouse, entering the master bathroom that had the hero’s eyes widening in awe.
“Here...” Chan helped Minho down on the toilet seat cover, watching the hero clasp his arms around himself as his eyes wandered around the room.
“I’ll get you fresh clothes and a towel. The spa bath is easy to use and you can leave your clothes in the basket by the shower—.”
“Thank you...” Minho’s words sounded so broken.
Chan slid both hands into his hoodie pocket as he watched Minho pull himself from the toilet to turn the bath on, running his fingers under the water.
“There are jets... they might help relax you too.”
The hero didn’t say anything more, so Chan took his leave, closing the door behind and staring at his bed before managing a few steps before collapsing onto the floor.
What was he doing?
Chan took a deep breath, staring at his white carpet as blood from his hands started to gather. He didn’t care much about the rug. It was just a rug. But the blood... the entire incident. Everything that had happened... none of it felt real.
His chest hurt as he clutched the side of his bed, listening to the sound of the water from his bathroom.
His sworn enemy was in there.
It wasn’t real... it couldn’t be.
Chan shook his thoughts away as he crawled up the bed, looking at the blood smearing onto the quilt and then to the rug before dragging himself to his closet.
He grabbed the comfiest clothes he could find. A pair of dark sweatpants and a dark turtleneck sweater. He’d seen the cuts on Minho’s arms and the distinguishable bruising along his neck and collar. He figured this would be the best thing to give Minho. Something to hide all of that. He couldn’t imagine what Minho would do when he looked at himself in the mirror. Chan didn’t think he would be able to in that state. God. Should he have stayed with Minho? Could Minho even pull himself out of that costume?
Chan sat on his bed after gathering a pair of new underwear and socks that still had the tag, shaking in place.
What kind of monster would do that? Yes... things were bad here. Things were... terrible. But to go so far as to abduct the city's hero and break him that badly... Chan could barely breathe. Minho may have been his enemy... but Chan wouldn’t wish what had happened to him on anyone, especially not him.
Chan was a lot of things. He was a thief. He was an arsonist. He was a villain in every rite. He had killed so many... though he always tried to target people who were as foul as could be. It didn’t make it better. It never did.
But he wasn’t... he wasn’t that .
Chan shook his head, clutching his bloody hand into the quilt. He wasn’t... he wasn’t that evil. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could be.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting on his bed like that, but the faint tapping on the bathroom door had him pulling away from his thoughts, eyes settling on the white door that led to his bathroom.
Chan collected himself, opening the door to the man who had the towel wrapped around his shoulders, hair sopping wet and eyes slightly less puffy than they’d been.
“Hi...” Minho whispered lowly, “I...”
Chan held the clothes out to him, keeping his eyes directly on Minho’s to avoid him from looking down at the marks along his throat that were very visible now that the blood had cleared.
“Thank you.” Minho took the clothes with his free hand before Chan closed the door again, his hand glued to the knob.
He was going to kill everyone that touched that man. He was going to... he didn’t know what he’d do to this new villain yet. But it wouldn’t be pretty.
Minho was his enemy. Nobody else was supposed to ever come here and give him as bad a time as Chan had. And this... Chan didn’t think he could ever hurt Minho again after this.
Their battles were never so brutal. They both seemed to keep themselves as grounded as possible. Minho would use his powers to fling debris at Chan, and Chan would blow whenever he sent his way up in the air.
Chan would never hurt him to such a point. In the past Chan knew they’d both beaten each other up to the point they were bleeding and crawling on the ground, but they’d never go to the point of trying to actually kill each other.
It really was cat and mouse...
Chan rubbed his temples as he sat on his bed, the sound of the bathroom door clicking. He looked up, watching Minho in the clothes that fit him perfectly.
“Are you okay?”
“I look terrible...” Minho sputtered out, Chan pulling up from his bed to do as much comforting as he could. “I just...” Minho laughed through the tears that started in his eyes again, “I just looked at myself for seconds and I...” he brought a hand to the collar of the turtle neck, the same area where his neck was littered with bruises, “wow...”
Chan frowned before turning the bathroom light off and leading Minho away from the doorway, closing it shut. “You should get some sleep...”
“Laying down... hurts.”
Chan winced at that, “I can get you something to eat... I can make you tea. I can do whatever you’d like.”
Minho swallowed hard before looking down at Chan’s carpet, his eyes seeming to linger on the rug, “I’m so sorry—.”
“Stop...” Chan put his foot over the blood on the floor, “it doesn’t bother me. It’s just a rug.”
“Your quilt...”
Chan sighed, “material things...”
“My blood is on your hands...” Minho whispered before taking Chan’s hand into his own, running his fingers down Chan’s palm.
“I’ll clean it off...”
Minho closed Chan’s hand before exhaling softly.
“I should go...”
Chan swallowed hard, the thought of Minho leaving right now terrifying him. “Please don’t go...”
The hero looked Chan in the eye, “I... I shouldn’t stay. You’ve done enough.”
“Don’t go... I don’t want anyone to hurt you.” Chan didn’t realize the words slipping from his lips could sting so badly. He really didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want anyone to hurt him. He didn’t want Minho to be alone. He didn’t want to send this man back to a lonely apartment where he’d be alone. Nobody deserved to be left alone. Not after something like this. “Let me get you food... please?”
Minho watched Chan closely before offering a slight nod, “okay... okay I’ll stay.”
Chan wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was enraged, but at the same time he was so terrified. And he wasn’t sure why.
“I’ll grab you a fresh blanket and you can sit in the lounge chair. It’s a lot more comfier than the couch... I’ll make you some food, okay?”
Minho nodded before Chan went into his bathroom to wash his hands off as the man stood by the doorway. He ignored the tattered costume in the bin and the sight of blood draining down the tub before making his way back to the hero.
After settling Minho into the lounge chair and heating him up some soup he couldn’t help but stare as he ate, watching how shaky Minho’s hand was. He was devastated.
“Chan...”
Chan looked at Minho with the softest eyes he could.
“Thank you again...”
“Just eat... and when you think you’re okay to lay down you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch. I just... don’t want you leaving right now.”
“How long are you keeping me here?”
Chan winced, “I don’t want you being alone right now.”
Minho studied Chan, “what are you going to do, Chan?”
“Let me be a villain.”
“Chan...”
“Please eat,” Chan whispered as he clasped his hands together, “don’t worry about anything else right now.”
“You can’t kill him.”
“I can kill everyone else. Let me handle him. I have my ways.”
“He wasn’t present... when it happened.” Minho whispered, “he left. He didn’t touch me. I don’t think he even knows—.”
“I’m not letting him get away with this.”
Minho shivered as he took another sip of the broth before sliding the bowl onto the coffee table, “please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you too...”
Chan inhaled, “I wouldn’t let anyone touch me.”
“They drugged me, Chan. I couldn’t use my powers—.”
“They won’t touch me. They won’t see it coming.”
“Please don’t get hurt...”
“I won’t be the one hurting.”
Minho pulled the blanket tight around himself, pulling his legs up with a hiss, “thank you for the meal...”
Chan frowned before pulling himself off the couch, “you’re welcome to the television and the kitchen if you want anything else.”
“Please don’t go...”
“I’m not. I’m just going to get that costume of yours.”
Minho winced, “just throw it out...”
“Minho...”
“I can’t imagine putting it back on after that. Just throw it away. It didn’t protect me from anything. I don’t want it.”
Chan frowned before slipping back down into the couch, “what will you wear?”
“I can’t... I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“I’m not the only bad guy around here.”
Minho looked like he was going to cry again. And Chan was sure the hero had done enough crying for the next decade.
“Chan...”
“It’s okay to take a break... but you said this is your purpose, right? It makes you happy?”
Minho nodded slowly, “it’s all I’m worth...”
Chan pulled himself from his couch again to crouch down in front of Minho, watching the man closely, “you’re such a good person... you realize other people were affected by those explosions too, right? All over the world people were affected in various ways. And instead of hiding away or causing chaos you decided to use those powers for good.”
Minho bit his bottom lip.
“You... you were using those abilities a month in, right? I saw you all over the news... stopping petty crimes.”
“Chan...”
“You do so much good... and you never had to. You were a good person for using those powers. You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t understand... why did you choose to be a villain?” Chan took a deep breath as Minho spoke, “you’re not... you don’t even kill innocent people. Nobody you kill is...” he stopped himself before shuddering to himself, “why do you do this?”
“I have to.”
“No you don’t...”
“If I stop now you won’t have anyone to beat every week—.”
“Chan... I looked into you to find some villain origin story and I couldn’t find one. Your parents love you, your brother and sister love you. You have friends. Everyone likes and respects you... so why do you do this?”
Chan frowned, “Minho...”
“I don’t get it... are you cleaning the streets? Because sometimes you do accidentally hurt people who did nothing wrong. And you’re a villain. You proclaimed yourself as one and yet—.”
“I feed off of chaos.”
Minho tilted his head.
“I feed off of screams. I don’t know why. I didn’t ask for it.”
“Screams...”
“Terror... fear. I don’t know. I don’t know what kind of screams but I know that when I blow up buildings and cause fires... I feel so alive. And when I don’t I want to die. But I can’t die...”
Minho watched Chan with pity.
“I tried to die... to stop that aching feeling. And every time I just got up and walked off like it was nothing.” Chan held his tears as he looked up at Minho clearly, “I never wanted to be like this... but I can’t stop it now. Whatever happened that day in this city changed my life. And now I’m trapped.”
Chan didn’t expect the warm hands at his cheeks, nor the thumbs running along his cheekbones, “I’m so sorry Chan...”
“I’m sorry...”
Chan surely did not expect the next five seconds. Because those five seconds didn’t make any sense. And those five seconds had Chan’s head spinning. He didn’t understand these five seconds. He couldn’t wrap his head around the comforting five seconds.
Minho leaned down and pressed his lips to Chan’s. And it made no sense. None at all. Why was he kissing Chan?
Chan just sat there before Minho pulled away, looking Chan in the eye.
This couldn’t be real.
“Thank you for existing Chan...”
Chan studied the man before Minho shakily pulled himself from the chair, the blanket falling to the ground as he took Chan’s hand into his own.
“Minho?”
“Can you tuck me in?”
Chan’s face went hot as he pulled off of the ground, leaning down to pick Minho up again before carrying him back to the bedroom.
Minho had convinced Chan to crawl into bed with him. He said he’d feel safer if Chan stayed beside him. Chan couldn’t fight that.
So he watched as Minho slept soundly, covers pulled up to his chin as the man's chest rose and fell.
Chan wished he could think about tearing that villain apart right now, but he felt so... calm and soft. Especially after Minho had kissed him. Which he shouldn’t even be dwelling on. Not after what had happened. He should be going after the scum that hurt this man. But he just... he promised. He couldn’t do it. At least not until tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.
For now, he’d keep Minho company for as long as he needed.
Chan learned that Minho was a heavy sleeper. Even after Chan was pulling himself out of the bed, the hero beside him was sleeping just as soundly as he’d left him.
“Minho...” Chan brushed hair from the man’s face, frowning to himself in memory of the night.
He really wanted to kill everyone who laid a dirty hand on this man. But he would wait. Just for a little bit.
Chan took a shower with the door opened as Minho slept, making sure he could see if Minho got up and left. He didn’t want Minho to leave. Not at all. He was probably fully healed physically, but Chan didn’t want Minho carrying that mental toll out of this home so quickly. Minho needed rest.
Thankfully Minho stayed asleep as Chan stepped out of the shower and got himself dressed. And he stayed asleep as Chan left the room and made his way to the kitchen, digging around to find a clean pan before deciding to get some food made up for both of them.
And as Chan finished setting the table of food, he heard the creak of the floorboard, pulling his attention to the man standing at the corner.
“Hey...”
Minho bit into his lip before making his way to the table, looking over the food before his eyes met Chan’s, “you did all of this?”
Chan nodded, “yeah... I figured you deserved more than soup.”
“You’re not a villain...” Minho whispered before standing in front of chan, their eyes locked.
“Villains can cook—.”
Chan didn’t get to finish his statement, because just as the previous night, Minho had kissed him again. Chan wasn’t sure what to do, but the feeling of Minho’s fingers running along his hip nearly had him melting.
This time Minho didn’t pull away, his lips parted comfortably along Chan’s. And Chan wasn’t sure why, but he was following suit, sliding his own hand up to Minho’s waist, running his finger along the cloth as their kiss deepened.
He wasn’t sure what was okay—was any of this okay? He let Minho control their situation, his tongue flicking into Chan’s mouth and causing tingles to run down his spine.
Why was Minho kissing him?
Minho pulled back after a few moments, his eyes glossy in a way Chan didn’t fear would produce tears this time. And then he took a seat at the table in front of one of the plates Chan had set, “we should eat.”
Chan’s face must’ve been some shade of pink he swallowed hard before sliding into the chair beside Minho.
Things were quiet. Chan let the morning news play on the tv in the living room as they ate. Chan wasn’t really sure what to say to Minho. He wasn’t sure why Minho had kissed him either time. But the feelings in his chest were telling him to kiss Minho again. And again. And again. But that wasn’t okay, right? Minho had been through hell and yet—.
“Hey Chan... is it okay that I kissed you?”
Chan looked up from his half empty plate, his mouth full of food.
“I... I should have asked.”
Chan swallowed quickly before sliding his chopsticks down and patting a napkin to his lips, “why did you kiss me?”
Minho bit into his bottom lip, “you might not believe me, but I like you. Have liked you... I don’t need to go into details about how after every fight I felt so.” Minho paused, “alive?”
“Minho?”
“You’re handsome... and you give me so much rush. I’m sorry I’m being so—.” Minho sighed as he bit into his lip again.
“Stop biting your lip before it bleeds.” Chan whispered, reaching over to pat Minho’s mouth with his fingers, Minho’s eyes widening and sparkling way too much for Chan to grasp.
He was really pretty. Chan couldn’t fight that.
“I won’t do it again... bite my lip. Or kiss you—.”
“You’re fine to kiss me again—.” Chan stopped as Minho directed his eyes to the TV. Chan followed, listening to the story.
Oh.
Minho frowned, defeat spreading across his face.
A mass pile up in the busy intersection of — occurred this morning as an unknown driver was removed from his vehicle and dropped into a nearby park, the vehicle losing control and causing a major accident.
Chan clenched his fists.
“Chan...”
Multiple fatalities—.
Chan got up from the table quickly, rushing over to the desk in the room before opening the drawer and pulling out his bloody mask, a hand quickly pushing the mask back down.
“Minho—.”
“What are you doing?”
“He attacked normal people. Not bad ones. Innocent people probably on their way to work.”
“This isn’t your job to handle—.”
Chan gave Minho a cold look, “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to destroy him.”
“Chan...”
“Minho, back off.”
Minho pulled away, eyes glossing but in the way that Chan feared.
Chan frowned immediately with regret, “I’m sorry...”
“Don’t do this...”
“I told you I wouldn’t do anything yesterday.”
Minho withdrew his hand.
“Let me get rid of this before it gets worse. If he’s striking early in the morning during the busiest commuting hours... who knows what he’ll do next.”
“Chan...”
Chan leaned in to press his lips to Minho’s, grabbing the back of his head gently before slipping his lips away, “trust me... let me get rid of him. Not just for you... but for the safety of this city.”
Minho gave Chan a worried look before taking the mask from Chan’s hands, running his thumbs along the dried blood before sliding the mask over Chan’s face, pulling the hood over his head, “be careful...”
“Stay here... please don’t leave, okay?”
Minho nodded before taking a step back from Chan.
“I’ll be back tonight.”
And with that Chan disappeared into his room, taking the secret elevator he’d set up in his closet before making his way to his black car in the basement garage.
He was going to kill Portal.
Chan kept his head low as he usually did. He drove around the city casually, first going to the scene of the major accident, and then driving around the more worrisome areas of town. He was respected in these parts anyways. Maybe feared too. He supposed it didn’t matter how people saw him.
He couldn’t afford to care.
People would answer him if asked for information about this new villain. And they’d give him the information if they wanted to survive. Chan wouldn’t kill anyone, he didn’t have to.
And finding info on this guy was easier than he expected.
Portal. Some guy who had moved in and threatened a petty gang into subservience. Apparently along with teleporting he was extremely stealthy. Chan didn’t give a shit how stealthy he was. If he needed to, he’d quicken his heart till it exploded in this chest.
The perks of this horrible power.
Chan stopped outside of the rundown warehouse. Part of him wished he’d asked Minho where he’d stumbled from, but he supposed it didn’t matter. This place looked shady. And with the blood outside on the ground... Chan grit his teeth as he stayed low, scanning the area before forcing the door opened with an explosion of the small lock.
He walked in the shadows, ignoring the few people who were walking around. Chan wondered if any of them had touched Minho. He didn’t care. They’d all die soon anyways. This warehouse would be demolished. Much like Portal when he got a hold of him.
Chan stalled after going up a flight of stairs as quietly as possible, hearing voices in one of the nearby rooms.
Someone was gloating. Chan grit his teeth.
“Ah, only thirteen injuries? Five deaths?” Sick. “We could have done way more damage without that little hero in the way. I’m disappointed.” The man sighed as Chan listened in.
“We did what we could—.”
“You didn’t do enough.”
Chan grimaced at the sight of blood flooding from the doorway as the sound of something flung across the room.
Chan couldn’t make out what it was.
He waited, listening to the men talk back and forth before Chan retreated back around the corner as men came from the room, whispering words that Chan couldn’t make out. Nothing good.
He didn’t care right now. He watched the men walk by, silence filling his ears as he rounded the corner and stood at the doorway where a man was laying back on the ground, a small knife sticking out from the middle of his forehead.
Chan watched the blood for only seconds before he dragged his eyes up to the man settling in the center of the room, a smile across his face.
This must have been Portal. It had to be.
“Ah, you’re Bang, right?”
Chan stayed silent, watching the man before him in rage. But he wouldn’t show it. Not yet.
“I hear you’re not a man of many words.” The man pulled up from his seat, dragging a hand through his disheveled silver hair. “Which is good. Quiet is good.”
The man was wearing a silver and black pair of goggles, a black face mask at his mouth and specs of silver dancing around his eyes. It must have been impossible for this man to hide as a regular person. The silver was too... noticeable.
“Portal. Or Changbin. I don’t really care what you call me. I take it you’re here because of the news? Or maybe you were wondering about the little hero who didn’t stop you last night?”
Chan would let his anger boil for a bit. “The hero. What happened to him?”
“Ah,” Portal laughed, “I wanted to introduce myself.” Chan grit his teeth hard, “I thought I’d welcome myself to the city while also letting you enjoy your mayhem uninterrupted. A truce gift now that there are two of us.”
“What did you do?”
“Ah... you’re probably wondering what the big old bang did to me.” He was so playful with his words, like they were a joke, “teleportation. Persuasion. And a little bit of stealth.” Portal flung a knife before Chan could catch it, the knife barely sliding across his mask before hitting the wall behind.
He hadn’t even seen it coming.
“Ah, you’re special too. The ability to blow things up is so cool. I wonder what else you got. Everyone’s got a weakness too...” Changbin smirked, “apparently the city hero is me.”
“Why is that?”
“Getting him was easy. He takes an underground tunnel. Watched him for a few days with my new boys before grabbing him.”
“Do you have him held hostage? He didn’t show up for the accident.” Chan spoke cluelessly.
Portal smirked, “I don’t know what really happened to him after I talked to him.”
Chan swallowed as the shorter man closed the space between them, twirling a knife on his finger, “I let my men beat him up a little while he was out of it.”
“What did they do with him? I liked the chase.”
“They said he walked out on his own. Whatever happened after isn't my business. And I don’t really care.”
Chan kept his calm the best he could, “what makes you think I want you in my town?”
The silver haired man snickered, “we could cause a lot of damage together.”
Chan gave him a tilted head before scoffing, “and who’s going to stop us?”
“I’m sure hero boy will come back.”
“What if he’s in the ocean? Or buried somewhere? What if he’s six feet deep in concrete?”
Portal nodded, laughing as he took a few steps back, “another hero will step up. They’re just as replaceable as villains.” The way Changbin said that last part had Chan enraged. He’d try his hardest. not to attack this man right here...
“You’re not going to challenge me for the city?”
“I don’t care what you do. Your work is inspiring.”
Chan inhaled, “I don’t do it for fun.”
Portal watched Chan with intrigue, “isn’t this all fun? Why else would you blow up giant buildings? Do you get off on it or something?”
Chan hated the use of words.
“Or do you get off on the hero coming to beat your ass? Or actually I guess it’s easier to beat his ass—.”
Chan snapped, grabbing and slamming Portal into the wall, the villain laughing hysterically.
“Ah... you get off on fighting him? I hope my guys didn’t fuck him up too badly—.”
A punch to the face. A hard one that caused the man to blink in surprise before him before Chan felt himself being kicked into the same wall Changbin had been just seconds before.
Chan hit the ground hard, pulling himself up slowly only to be kicked again.
“Damn, do you have a crush on that guy?” Portal laughed, Chan whirling around to punch him again before a swift kick to the mask sent Chan flipping over, his mask sliding across the room. Shit.
Chan moved to get up before Portal teleported on top of him, laughing in his face as he sat on top of Chan, “oh wow, you’re pretty. Just like that hero—.”
Chan tried to grab the man by the face, too slow as the man teleported off and appeared behind Chan’s head, Chan barely turning before receiving a knife to the hand, Chan releasing a strained cry.
Chan heard footsteps, panic rising in his chest at the thought of what could happen to him.
“No, my battle. Fuck off.” Portal laughed, Chan catching the men giving him a sick look by the door before retreating back.
With the seconds Chan had, he took the knife from his hand and swiped across the man’s ankles, causing the villain to hiss and fall to the ground.
Chan shut the door quickly as he rose up, the man at the ground giving him a scoff.
“What do you want?” He asked as if trying to come to some sort of agreement with Chan, “you’re clearly worth the trouble.”
Chan leaned down, spitting blood to the side of the man before looking him over, “how far is your range?”
The man gave Chan an annoyed look, “what’s it matter?”
“Teleport me to the high rise building in the city.”
“Now why would I do that?”
Chan got closer, “teleport me to the front door.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Teleporting only works for me.” He scoffed.
Chan slipped the knife under Portal’s chin, “so teleport outside.”
Ah. The man’s eye twitched.
Of course. His power was limited. That was his weakness.
“Or can you not?”
“I have to see where I’m going.” Portal sighed before smacking the knife away, “I can’t believe you can blow up the high rise building from here, can you?”
“No. But that’s awfully interesting, your range.”
“How so?”
Chan smirked, “you have to see where you’re going.”
“Yeah... so?”
Chan looked Changbin in the eye before smiling, “I may be limited, but I can do something you can’t.”
Ah. The screams were beautiful. Chan nearly lost it at the man screaming in front of him. And as he heard the footsteps behind he couldn’t help but laugh and tie a cloth around the man’s eyes as he screamed and thrashed around.
“Hard to teleport without your eyes, hm?”
They would heal. Chan knew that much. But as he managed to wrap himself around the teleporting man and zip tie his hands, there was hope.
“You fucked up bad, Changbin.” Chan spat before blasting a hole through the wall and dragging Changbin along.
Chan laughed as the door burst open, a man holding a gun up like it would do anything to him.
One move and Chan had the gun blowing up in the man’s face. And anyone else that had come through the door got the same treatment. The screams. God. Chan was filled.
As Changbin screamed, Chan left him briefly to slide his freshly blood covered mask to his face, stepping out towards the stairs to set the stairs alight before making his way back to the man on the ground.
He knew what he’d do with him.
Chan supposed the best perk to being a villain was the fear he struck into people. Nobody stopped him as he dragged the screaming man into his car. And the men who came after him met an explosive fate—along with their building.
Chan made sure to let the people around know who was the only villain in the city. And they left him be. And they let him drive away.
Changbin screamed and thrashed the entire way. He cursed at Chan, he screamed for help. It didn’t even matter. Nobody would help him. And anyone who tried... they’d just die. Chan didn’t care. He wasn’t opposed to ruining anyone right now. He wasn’t a force to be reckoned with.
Chan stopped after driving through the woods for a while, sliding his phone out and dialing one of his contacts, “yes... this is Bang. Send me the location of that pretty hole you dug for me earlier.”
Changbin didn’t like the sound of that.
“Thank you. I’ll send payment when the job is done.” Chan hung up, glancing into the back seat as Changbin continued to thrash around.
“You realize nobody is going to save you, right?”
“We’re on the same fucking side here! How dare you!” Changbin whimpered as he tried to sit himself up.
“No we aren’t. I’m not as vile as you.”
“What?! You’ve killed far more people than me?!”
Chan sighed as he unbuckled his seat belt and leaned back to look at the man who’d finally gotten himself upright.
“I may be a murderer, but my victims are never innocent.”
“Oh fuck off, who cares if they are or not!”
Chan checked his phone, smirking at the location before starting the car again.
“You’re going to wish you looked into that.”
Chan ignored Changbin the rest of the drive. When he reached the hole the sun was setting in the distance. The sky a dark shade of orange and black.
“Where are we... what the fuck are you doing?”
“You’ll see—.” Chan laughed at that, “or I guess you won’t.”
“Take this blindfold off. Take it the fuck off of me!”
“Why would I do that?”
“Bang—.”
“Shut up.
Changbin complied. Maybe he thought that would get him somewhere. But it didn’t matter. As Chan dragged him from the vehicle and to the freshly dug hole, he couldn’t help but sigh with content.
He held Changbin right up by the hole, staring at the man’s silver hair for seconds before he looked where Changbin’s eyes would be.
“What did you do to The Claw?”
Changbin laughed, “what?”
“In detail. I want to know.”
“Fuck you.”
Chan looked down to Changbin’s foot, “want me to blow those useless feet off? Or perhaps you’d like to lose your pathetic cock—.”
“Fuck... Jesus. He was in the fucking underground area. He apparently uses it like I said to get around unseen.”
“Go on.”
Changbin took a deep breath, “I was just playing with him...” Chan hated the way that sounded, “I grabbed his board and he flung off like a slingshot. It was fun... it was just fun.”
Chan watched as sweat beaded from Changbin’s temple, “and then?”
“I... I had a needle with me. I just stabbed him with it. I wanted to drug him and bring him to the warehouse.”
“What did you do to him...”
“We talked... I introduced myself. I beat him around a little. He was... he was so drugged out he didn’t know what he was doing. I took his mask off as leverage... he wouldn’t want me exposing him you know... Lee Minho... a nobody parading as a hero.” Chan kept his anger to himself. Though Changbin was testing his patience.
“What did you do to him...?”
Changbin took a deep breath, Chan tearing the man’s facemask from his mouth, “I just beat him around... I told him to welcome me with open arms and stay out of my business. I left after that.”
“Where did you go?”
“Toured the city... I went to his apartment.”
“What did your men do to him?”
“I told them to let him know what would happen if he ever crossed me...”
Chan lost it, he threw Changbin down into the hole, the man releasing a pained noise as he hit the dirt hard.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” He hollered as he tried to wiggle around in the hole, the second he got up Chan doing as he threatened earlier and blowing his right foot to shreds, the man screaming bloody murder. It would heal. They would heal.
“Your men... they really hurt him.”
“And?! You’re fucking insane!” Changbin wailed as he continued to thrash, every scream sending shivers down Chan’s spine.
Chan crouched down, spitting into the hole before gritting his teeth again, “they raped him.”
Changbin stilled after a moment of thrashing, his body seeming to run cold, “... what?”
“I assume you didn’t know based on how disgusting you’ve been acting towards it. Either that or you really are sick.”
“Oh... what the fuck... no, no I had no fucking idea they did that—I swear to god I had no idea!” Changbin was staggering between pleads and screams. God. It felt so good.
“He showed up at my apartment. He told me everything.”
“I didn’t know... I swear to god I would have never let them do that—.”
“And yet it happened.”
“I’m not... I don’t even know those fuckers!”
“Were they all in that warehouse I blew up?”
“I think so... I can give you a list of their names. I can tell you everything. I’m so sorry.”
“You should tell The Claw that.” Chan scoffed before grabbing some dirt and tossing it down into the hole.
“I will! I will! I’m— fuck I didn’t know. I swear to god that’s not what I would ever do to someone!”
“I’ve never seen him so vulnerable... you may have ruined him forever.”
“I’m so sorry... I’m sorry. I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him and I’ll fix this—.”
“How do you fix assault?”
“I’m not that evil... I would never condone that. Please...”
“You can’t. The only way you can atone is death, but you can’t even do that.”
“I... fuck. I’m so sorry. I’ll fucking apologize. I’ll give that guy the world. I’ll do whatever I have to—.”
“No. You can keep the empty apologies with yourself.”
“I didn’t know!” Changbin screamed back.
“You shouldn’t have fucked with my city. With my enemy. With my hero.”
“I’m fucking... I’ll leave. I’ll disappear—.”
“I can’t have you using his identity against him.” Chan smirked, Changbin shaking his head in distress.
“Please... I’ll do whatever you want—.”
“I want you to suffer. I want you to feel a fraction of what he felt.”
“I’m sorry—.”
“There can only be one villain per story. And you didn’t make the cut.”
“Don’t fucking do this!”
Chan laughed as he pulled himself up, wiping his hands before turning to the tractor and giving the go ahead to fill the hole. Chan said nothing as the man below screamed for help and forgiveness. The hole filling and shielding his screams with a few fills.
Chan had never felt more whole.
It was past midnight by now. Chan had made sure the hole was as packed as they could make it. He was sure that the villain would suffer from suffocation for all of eternity. And it felt good. It felt so good. And Chan felt nothing.
Maybe Chan really was a villain.
He didn’t care. Portal fucked with the wrong hero.
When Chan finally got back to his penthouse, he felt relief as he opened the door to see the hero asleep on the couch. He was curled up in heaps of blankets, mouth parted as a mug sat on the coffee table. He must have passed out watching the news.
Chan took a deep breath as he turned the tv off and patted Minho’s hair calmly, “I’m so sorry... for everything.”
In the span of hours he’d grown so fond of the hero. He didn’t hate him before. Maybe they’d had a mutual agreement before all of this to take care of one another.
Chan wasn’t sure.
Three months after the explosion at a warehouse in — and there have been no further reports on the whereabouts of the man known as Portal who is being held responsible for the mass pile up on —.
Chan watched the news beside Minho. The hero had questioned Chan a few times, but he’d seemed to have given up and accepted that whatever happened was for the best.
“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”
Chan shook his head, “no.”
Minho sighed as he turned to face Chan, “you haven’t been causing trouble lately...”
“No one is around to stop me.” He replied.
“You know why I can’t—.”
“No, I understand.” Chan watched Minnho closely, “I can wait.”
“I don’t think I can fight you... not after this.”
“I don’t think I can hurt you either.” Chan admitted, Minho’s face getting pink. “I don’t think I have any desire to ever hurt you again...”
Chan lingered his fingers along Minho’s arm. They hadn’t kissed much the past few days. And that’s... all they did. Soft kisses that made no sense for their relationship.
“How are you doing... without the screams?”
Chan took a deep breath, “I have my fill for a while. You know I don’t cause trouble that often, right? I gave you breaks.”
“What happens when you start to feel bad?”
Chan drew a soft breath, “I’ll think of something.”
“What kind of screams help?”
“Any.” Chan frowned, “they have to be... in the moment though. I tried to record screams or watch them from movies. But those don’t work.”
“Don’t you have a soundproof room?”
Chan nodded, “the room across from my bedroom. It’s soundproof.”
“What’s that room for?”
Chan frowned, “I used to make music before the explosion.”
“What if I scream in there?”
“You’ll hurt your lungs screaming for me.”
“What if I want to scream?”
Chan laughed, watching Minho closely, “it’s straining.”
Minho looked at Chan for a moment before moving, Chan’s face heated as Minho positioned himself into Chan’s lap, “what if... I’m screaming for a reason?”
“Minho, what are you doing?”
Minho swallowed hard, sliding his fingers to tap at Chan’s neck, “if I... if we went in there together... and I—.”
“You’re still recovering.” Chan snapped, Minho looking at Chan closely, “whatever it is you’re suggesting...”
“I’m healed.”
“Physically...” Chan frowned as he ran his fingers up Minho’s shirt comfortingly, feeling his soft skin under his fingertips.
“What if I want to scream for you?”
Chan slipped a hand to Minho’s face, running his thumb along his lower lip, “what if I don’t want you to?”
“How do you feel about me?”
“You’re the enemy.” Chan smirked.
“Seriously... how do you feel?”
Chan’s smirk faded as he studied Minho, “I like you.”
“Can I ask you something then?”
“Anything.”
“Can you... help me erase that memory?”
Chan frowned.
“I don’t... I don’t remember much like you said, but if I’m being frank with you... I just want it to disappear.”
“Minho, that’s not how that works—.”
“Only if you like me too... I don’t want to trap you. More than I already have—.”
Chan leaned up to press his lips to Minho’s calmly before pulling back with a sigh, “you haven’t trapped me.”
“I literally rolled up to your door with a heap of baggage...”
“You’re my enemy.” Chan whispered before sliding his hands down to Minho’s waistband before sliding one hand down the back of his pants to feel the plush of his ass, “my sworn enemy.”
Minho shuddered with a laugh, wrapping one hand around Chan’s neck as his hips rolled slowly.
“Chan... we don’t have to.”
“I just don’t want to hurt you... ever again. Ever.”
Minho watched Chan closely, “you won’t.”
“Do you want to? Do this I mean...?”
Minho nodded, “I’ve always wanted to... I just never had the right opportunity to.”
“Minho...”
“I want to do it with you...”
Chan inhaled sharply, “are you positive?”
“Mister Bang...”
Chan smiled before taking Minho’s lips again, “I’ll let you control everything.”
Minho laughed into Chan’s mouth, nuzzling their noses as he rolled his hips against Chan.
“Minho... we don’t have to go all the way either, you know?”
“I want to... if you want to.”
Chan hissed as Minho rolled his hips particularly deep, “Minho...”
“Do you?”
“Fuck... yeah. Yeah I want to.”
After an hour of making out on the couch and an adventure of messy prep, they had found themselves in Chan’s bed—the sounds of creaking and moans filling the space.
Chan never thought he’d be in this position with his enemy. He didn’t think he’d ever be in this position with Minho. But Minho was very excitable and adamant. He was happy too. Chan could feel the happiness radiating off of him as Chan thrust into him and speckled his face in kisses. Chan was sure that night had completely dismantled the hero... but here he was, giggling and kissing Chan like the world was in their grasp.
Maybe it was.
Chan took his time, making sure most of his energy focused on kissing every inch of Minho as he worked to get the man off.
And of course Chan didn’t last long, he was pulling himself out of Minho and cumming into the condom quickly, Minho spraying him in kisses every step of the way.
“You didn’t have to pull out.” Minho yawned as he lay beside Chan, “you could have stayed inside of me. You had a condom on.”
Chan signed, looking at Minho who was watching him with pretty wide eyes, “I’m still cautious...”
“I could tell.”
“Was it bad?” Chan asked worriedly.
Minho shook his head, “no... I really enjoyed it.” A smile spread across Minho’s face, “I enjoy you.”
Chan smiled at that in reply before nuzzling into Minho, “what happens when things go back to normal?”
“Do they have to?” Minho asked, Chan turning to face the man beside him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean... do we have to go back to... fighting each other?”
“The world needs the hero, right?”
Minho pulled himself upright, watching Chan closely, “what if we didn’t do that...?”
“I wish I had a choice but—.”
“We’ll find a way. Chan I don’t think I can go back to—.”
Chan leaned up, pulling Minho back down to press their mouths together briefly before he whispered against his lips, “take all the time in the world... if you don’t want to go back... you don’t have to.”
“I want to... stay like this. With you.”
Chan inhaled sharply, “I need the screams or I’ll... I won’t be able to suppress all of that depression.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“Minho... I don’t want to be enemies anymore.”
Minho laughed, “I don’t either.”
Chan took a deep breath, caressing Minho’s face as the man looked down at him with nothing but fondness, “would it be silly to say I would rather love you?”
Minho smiled wide, “you’re cute.”
“I’m serious...”
Minho leaned down, locking their mouths comfortably before sliding into the space beside Chan, curling into him with purpose, “I would rather love you too. If you’ll let me.”
“I don’t think I can stop... blowing things up.”
Minho hummed, “I don’t think I can stop you, Chan.”
“I’ll only... it’ll still be bad people. I promise.”
“I don’t think I want to be a hero anymore... I just want you—is that evil of me?”
“Minho...”
Minho watched Chan closely, sliding his finger over Chan’s mouth, “we can figure out what to do another day. Just kiss me.”
Another day.
Months later.
Almost a year later.
Chan was still causing chaos. And for a while Minho really didn’t bother with things. And then... the oddest thing happened. Rather than show up to fight the fire and stop Chan, Minho showed up in a similar costume to Chan’s, a white rabbit mask at his face and a black hood over his head.
And instead of stopping Chan, Minho watched the world burn with him.
He loved him.
His sworn enemy—no, his sworn lover.
They were the most unlikely pair, and yet they fit together so well.