Chapter Text
Haechan had been at the Ritz a million times. Making business deals, negotiating, manipulating, making promises and breaking them, shaking hands with criminals just like himself. But it had been a while since he’d sat down for dinner opposite Mark Lee.
To be more specific, the last time Haechan had seen Mark in person had been 7 years ago.
Haechan didn’t wanna remember that day, all the blood and betrayal. He’d rather remember Mark as his next door neighbor at the college dorm, that adorably nerdy guy who had this sharp sparkle in his eyes behind full-moon glasses. Mark still had that look now, the glasses too. Still as handsome as ever with his high cheekbones, sharp jaw, hair falling over his forehead on one side, probably carefully arranged to hide the nasty scar above his brow. Time had only made him more beautiful, if a little serious.
“You look like you’re here to lecture me on something,” Haechan said with a raised brow, his expression neutral. He’d rarely seen Mark in a full suit with a tie on as well. “Still trying to be a professor?”
“Not anymore,” Mark smiled, mouth closed and crooked. “But I’m glad you said that. It means I look the part, at least. Glad my efforts didn't go to waste.”
Haechan’s stomach did a slow flip, remembering the way Mark used to dress long ago. Loose jeans and oversized hoodies in college, turtlenecks and fitted slacks while he worked as a paralegal at a law firm during law school. Haechan had had a lot of fun getting those turtlenecks off of him, messing up Mark’s wispy soft hair and nearly breaking his thick framed glasses every time in haste.
“This is a social call then?” Haechan asked quickly, hoping to god that years of dealing with absolute scum had made the color in his face stay bland even now.
Mark shifted in his seat, inching his hand towards Haechan’s that was resting on the table, their fingers almost touching. “Would it be so bad if it was?” He asked quietly.
Haechan pulled away, sitting up straighter and looking to his right towards the lake through the glass wall of the restaurant. The place was lit up in muted colored lights, a fountain in the middle spraying water towards the sky. A useful distraction. After everything that had happened between them, even half a decade later, Haechan couldn’t look Mark in the eye for long.
“Stop wasting time, Mark,” Haechan spat angrily, compensating for the fact that his voice had nearly betrayed him just now, his tongue almost slipped the fact that he wanted nothing more than for this to be a social call, a date, a dinner and a night together, and to forget all the shit Haechan had to deal with as soon as he walked away from this table.
Mark stared at him for a while before speaking again. “Alright,” he said. “I’m here to warn you. Someone sold you out.”
“Excuse me?” Haechan had to look at Mark at that, surprised and offended and pissed at the thought that someone had the nerve to go against him and it was Mark of all people who knew about it.
“Someone’s after you.”
“Someone is always after me,” Haechan said. “If you don’t remember, I’m very rich, and not exactly nice. Not a good combination, I’m sure you know. And I happen to have a lot of enemies. So who is it and why are they after me?”
“You look pretty tonight,” Mark said suddenly, throwing Haechan completely off-kilter.
Only Mark could do that, looking at him with his sparkly eyes so sincerely and affectionately. Haechan could feel his face warm up as Mark continued to blatantly stare at him. He’d gotten better at this, whatever this was. Haechan would’ve killed for this kind of undivided attention from the man in front of him once upon a time. Now, this felt dangerous, like he was putting Mark in danger by letting him be this way with him. And if it were true that someone was selling Haechan out, he should be careful now more than ever. The last thing he wanted was to see Mark get dragged into his shit again. He never wanted to see Mark get hurt ever again.
Because the last time that had happened, he’d been powerless, completely in over his head, naïve and stupid and careless. But this time, he would kill everyone who so much as touched a hair on Mark’s head, without an ounce of hesitation or remorse. And that wasn’t a good thing. Impulsive decisions got you into trouble. And he had no plan to land himself in jail anytime soon.
“Get back to the point,” Haechan said grimly. “Who sold me out? What did they sell? And who’s the buyer?”
“I don’t know,” Mark said slowly, shrugging. “All I know is, you put someone’s someone behind bars.”
“I put a lot of people behind bars. Give me a name, Mark,” Haechan said. “That’s why you’re in Seoul, aren’t you? Is it the district prosecutor’s office? What, did they tell you to represent them? Be their lawyer and file a case against me? On what charges? If I put someone in jail, I’m sure I had good reason to-”
“I should be surprised that you know where I work, but I’m not,” Mark said, shaking his head. “It’s not the prosecutor’s office. And no charges have been brought up against you yet. There could be, possibly, but not because you falsely convicted someone. They’re calling you the criminal.”
“Who? On what grounds?” Haechan asked calmly, even though he was getting more and more angry. He put more force behind his words when Mark stayed quiet. “On what grounds, Mark? Tell me–”
“I don’t know,” Mark shrugged again. “Nobody told me. In fact, nobody even bothered to tell me this was about you. I only know about this because I have friends in places. So imagine my surprise when I’m called all the way here to Seoul for a case I’m told nothing about, only to find out it’s got to do with you.”
Instant regret slammed into Haechan, flashes of the past plaguing his mind. Bad shit happened to Mark whenever he got involved in Haechan’s rotting business. “Why not refuse the case then?” Haechan asked. “Why not make shit up and throw them off your back?”
“I can’t refuse the case, because I haven’t ‘officially’ been told you are involved. And I don’t wanna lose my job. Plus, you know I hate lying,” Mark said with a small smile. He picked up the wine and took a sip. “Besides, I am throwing them off my back.”
It was then that Haechan was keenly aware of the crowd of people surrounding them. The Ritz was a hotspot for upper class gourmet lovers and businessmen looking to impress partners, or intimidate them. It was always busy, reservations required strings. Mark had to know something about the case against Haechan for at least a month before to get a table here, which meant Haechan was already a month too late in figuring out who was lighting a fire under his ass. Fucking hell. Would it have killed Mark to make a phone call right away?
But then again, a phone call wouldn’t have gotten Mark a ticket out. This would. Because now he was seen colluding with Haechan out in the open. There were too many witnesses, security cameras. If people were trying to use Mark to testify against Haechan for anything, or to get him to go up against Haechan in court, Mark just proved himself to no longer be an impartial party to the case, whatever the case might be.
“The restaurant does have a view,” Haechan rolled his eyes.
“Who cares about the view when you’re all I’m looking at?”
“Mark,” Haechan warned, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself. He had to stop Mark from talking like that. It was doing things to Haechan’s heart and that was good for neither of them.
Mark really had gotten better at this. It’d always been Haechan who’d flirted before, the one who’d made all the advances. But now it was Mark, and Haechan felt as nervous as he felt thrilled. It was a little too late though. They were older now, both fully shouldering their respective roles in the world, Haechan the villain of the story and Mark the hero. They couldn’t just go back to all the flirtations and sexual tension.
“It was good to know that you’re still willing to see me,” Mark said, his fingers inching towards Haechan’s until Mark more or less held his hand.
It was a delicate hold, nothing like how Haechan was used to Mark touching him. They had very rarely been gentle with each other. But then again, that was a good thing. Because the last time they’d been gentle had been the worst case scenario, when Haechan had thought he was losing Mark for good.
Oddly, it didn’t feel different this time either. Because as Mark slowly caressed Haechan’s fingers with his thumb, grazing over the silver band Haechan wore on his forefinger, the one matching Mark’s own even now, Mark also had on a gold band on his ring finger. Haechan froze, he knew a wedding band when he saw one, and the beaten gold was definitely part of a pair.
Everything stopped for a second. All the sights and sounds and smells ceased, Haechan’s breath caught in his throat. It felt like Haechan was losing Mark again, this time to someone else instead of death. So this was it, this was the real reason Mark wanted to meet.
“When is it happening?” Haechan asked, pulling away his hand instantly.
“We don’t have to talk about it–”
“You came here to talk about it, didn’t you?” Haechan said with more contempt than he wanted to. Dammit, he wanted to be civil about this, calm. He knew this day would come at some point. But why now? Why so soon? “You’ll be charged with biasness if you’re already associated with me before things go to court, compromised. So, this is a social call. Go on. Talk about your engagement. That’s why you’re here after all, isn’t it?”
“Among other reasons,” Mark said, his demeanor grim now.
“Let’s have it then.”
Mark looked like he wanted to say more, his face portraying a range of emotions that Haechan wished he could read like a book, but he couldn’t anymore. He didn’t know this Mark, this older, cleaner Mark who looked every bit the sharp, top-notch lawyer that he was. Haechan had kept up with his career throughout the years, from his time as a paralegal to junior associate at a private firm, to being a prosecutor. But his sources somehow missed to inform him about Mark’s engagement. When had he gotten engaged? How long had Mark been in love with someone else? Who was it?
Sure, he didn’t want Mark to be associated with him, for Mark’s own safety, and maintaining a distance was necessary for that. But Haechan kind of felt blindsided and stupid now, knowing all about Mark’s career achievements and nothing about the person he’d exchanged rings with. The one Mark was probably going to marry, judging by the envelope Mark was taking out of his briefcase and placing on the table. It was bright red with paper roses at the corners, nothing said ‘wedding’ like red roses after all.
“You planned this well,” Haechan said.
“I did,” Mark said.
“Merely inviting your friend to the wedding?” Haechan picked up the envelope, just to have something to do.
“Seems like it,” Mark tilted his head, his eyes never leaving Haechan’s face. “If that makes me unsuitable to testify against you or whatever, nothing I can do about it.”
“I’ll be sure to attend the ceremony then,” Haechan said, pocketing the invite inside his coat and downing the last of his wine in one go.
He needed to go away as far as possible because try as he might, he couldn’t stop the feeling of his heart breaking into pieces even now at the thought of Mark being someone else’s. Getting fucking married? His poker face wasn’t holding up as well as it should and Haechan could feel it. The last thing he needed was for Mark to see how much it hurt, even after all these years. How much Haechan still longed for him.
“You’re leaving?” Mark asked, a little surprised when Haechan got up. “The food hasn’t even arrived.”
“The food here is shit anyway,” Haechan said. “Call up your fiancé to share the meal if you’re lonely. You have someone to call now, don’t you?”
Mark just stared at him, his gaze unwavering, almost looking a little angry. “I did call someone,” he said.
And oh, it stung. It stung so bad that Haechan wanted to burn the place down. He wanted to know who it was, who got a chance with Mark when Haechan couldn’t. But he was too petty and jealous to even look at the wedding invite. It was better if he didn’t know anyway, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t do something to that person just so they’d be out of Mark’s life. He’d done it once before after all. But things hadn’t exactly ended well for them, with Mark nearly getting killed and Haechan having so much blood on his hands that they still felt dirty sometimes. And besides, maybe Mark had already moved on from him, maybe he really liked this person.
Who was Haechan kidding? Mark was getting married! Of course he liked this person! Mark would die before marrying someone he didn’t love, he was a romantic sap down to his bones.
It hurt to know that there had been someone else Mark had been romancing all this time they were apart. All the flirtations just moments ago were nothing but murmurs of a past that didn’t exist anymore. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe now Haechan didn’t have to feel all that guilt and remorse and longing for this one person he was still so in love with that he’d made sure to look his best tonight, dressed with so much careful thought, wore the same perfume that Mark had gotten him so many years ago just to say in all the ways except in voice that Haechan was still and always his.
Maybe it was time to let go.
“Well, enjoy your dinner,” Haechan said, turning to leave.
“So you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Mark asked, stopping him instantly. “Like we barely know each other? I’m not gonna see you again, am I? Unless it’s in court?”
“It’s better for you if you don’t,” Haechan said, turning towards mark. The invitation burned inside his pocket. “You know that, Mark.”
“Nothing’s changed, then?”
“No, things have changed,” Haechan shook his head. “They’re worse now. And I am too. I’ve gotten better at cleaning up my own shit. Don’t worry, things won’t reach you. I’ll take care of it.”
“Whatever you say,” Mark said, face unreadable.
Walking out of there and away from Mark should’ve felt relieving. But Haechan only felt more suffocated, his chest felt heavy. Seeing Mark had brought back years worth of memories, of love and desire and fear and violence. Haechan hadn’t lied, he really was worse of a person now. The kind of violence he was capable of now would scare Mark, and he had already been unsettled by what he’d seen Haechan do all those years ago. It was better if Mark kept out of all this, for him and for Mark.
But that irrational part of his brain didn’t want to accept that. His mind was still stuck on the comfort of having Mark against him under the covers in cold winter nights, having him kiss down Haechan’s spine until Haechan was a writhing, panting mess on Mark’s sheets. When was the last time Haechan had a real conversation with anyone that wasn’t about business and manipulation and money? When was the last time he’d thought about anything other than the dealings of his father’s shitty world that was now his as well? He was ashamed to call it his, but he was also proud of it, because he was trying to make things better, cleaner. And if that meant sending shitty people to jail and earning more enemies that tried to harm him, so be it.
So what if he was one month late to this shit-show? He would turn the world upside down if it meant he would get to arrange it the way he wanted to. And he would arrange it the way he wanted to. Money didn’t matter, as long as it was clean. People didn’t matter, as long as it wasn’t his people. And whoever went behind his back to rat him out definitely wasn’t his people.
“Pull up a list of everyone I put behind bars in the last six months,” Haechan said to his cousin Jeno as soon as he got home.
Jeno was the closest to a best friend Haechan had, and he had very few of those. Renjun would’ve been a better choice, he was good at finding things out, but Renjun didn’t stay with him 24/7, and it was best if Haechan could find out the names of every probable traitor as soon as possible.
“That’s gonna be a long list,” Jeno said skeptically, following him to his room. “Especially with recent events. Why do you suddenly wanna know your record?”
“Someone is coming after me,” Haechan said, pulling off his coat with too much force and discarding it angrily. The fuck had he been thinking dressing up nicely for Mark after all these years? “They’ve got a head start of about one month. But I’m guessing it took a little longer than that to get something concrete on me to go to whoever.”
“Do you know what they have?” Jeno asked.
“Not a fucking clue,” Haechan cursed, walking into his closet to put on his most comfortable clothes. “Call up Jaemin and Chenle.”
“It’s 11, Haechan,” Jeno sighed.
“They can sleep after we find out who’s nailing us and with what.”
“Who did you meet with?”
“What?” Haechan asked, a little surprised. Because it was Jaemin who was nosy enough to ask about Haechan’s secret meetings, not Jeno. “Why?”
“You got a letter? They called you an asshole,” Jeno said, laughing.
Haechan poked his head out of his closet to find Jeno holding the wedding invitation from Haechan’s discarded coat, partly open now. It boiled his blood just thinking about it. But then…wait, why would it…A letter? Why would Mark call him an asshole in his wedding card?
Haechan quickly walked over and snatched the red thing from Jeno’s hand. “Go get the others,” Haechan said, not hearing Jeno’s protests and grumbles. His mind was too focused on the card.
The red envelope was beautiful, the roses, the cursive designs. It didn’t quite fit Mark, maybe it was his fiancé's choice. However, Haechan couldn’t fathom why there was a bright sunflower-yellow piece of paper inside that didn’t fit any of it. He pulled it out entirely to read what Jeno had read.
To my sun,
I still can’t lie, sure. But at least I’m not an idiot like you if all it takes is a 2-dollar golden ring and a meaningless red envelope to fool you. You’re such an asshole, Hyuck. And a fucking coward. Don’t you dare try to push me away again. Have some faith.
Love,
All your stars.
Haechan read the letter again, and again and again before his legs gave out. He slid down to the floor with his back against the wall, his stomach in a riot. He didn’t know if he should laugh or curse out loud. It wasn’t a wedding invitation after all, just a note. Or a love letter. Sort of. All the memories of Mark calling him his sun and Haechan calling Mark ‘all my stars’ in the intimate hours of four in the morning came rushing back, making Haechan shiver at the thought that Mark still remembered, and still used it so endearingly. As if it had been just yesterday when they were lying in the dark together, exchanging rings with the same words carved inside. Haechan shivered in desire and heartbreak. In fear.
Don’t you dare try to push me away again.
Mark was already involved somehow. Maybe he knew a lot more than he’d let on tonight. Which meant it would be that much harder for Haechan to get him away from this situation, however dangerous it became. This was bad. He couldn’t bear to watch Mark get hurt again because of him. He’d burn down the world and everyone along with it if it meant he could protect Mark. He was Haechan’s own, the top-most in the very short list of people Haechan cared about. And that meant Haechan now had to make sure that shit didn’t go south any more than it already had.
“If I have to stay awake all night to catch some needle in a haystack of your beloved goons, I’m gonna need some food,” Chenle announced venomously as he walked into the adjacent office room with his bulky laptop and devices under his arms. “Order some pizza and shit.”
“I need coffee before I can function,” Jaemin said before going into the kitchen. “You guys want something?”
“A shot to the head,” Chenle deadpanned. “And a vanilla latte, please.”
“Plain black coffee it is,” Jaemin scoffed.
“Get Renjun,” Haechan said to Jeno, walking out of his room. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“He’s gonna hate you,” Jeno laughed, coming in with a shit load of profiles Haechan liked to keep of people he dealt with.
“Great, he can hate me while finding out who bitched about me.”