Chapter 5: constricted tongue

"You've got a bright red target painted on your back now, you know that right?" Yeonjun breathed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. He was undoubtedly stressed after Jongho had just finished dumping that load of information on him.

At first, Jongho had been hesitant about telling him the truth, or even just part of it, but he was able to unlock a certain memory that convinced him otherwise. Yeosang had told Jongho a long time ago, not long after Yeosang had first started working at the bookstore, that Yeonjun was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet. Yeosang had even felt comfortable talking about his mom with Yeonjun, despite him never opening about the topic to anyone else other than Jongho and most likely Wooyoung.

Yeonjun had also never had a hatching. Both of his arms were bare; there wasn't a tattoo in sight. And at this point in Jongho's life, that was the only real reassurance he needed.

Jongho sighed, pausing next to the door as Yeonjun scrambled to find his keys, "I know. Whoever that was, she won't be the last before this is all over."

Yeonjun let out a nervous laugh, as if trying to ease the sudden tension, but Jongho was way too anxious after what had happened that night to loosen up. "Let's hope it's over soon then, so this doesn't become a regular occurrence. I can't keep letting people in after hours."

Jongho managed a small smile at that, "For sure, next time I'll duck into Mr. Yang's ice cream parlor next door, maybe he'll let me off with a sundae for my troubles."

That produced a more genuine laugh from Yeonjun, though he did fit in one last line before Jongho pushed through the door.

"Stay safe out there, Jongho. I know that Yeosang hasn't been around for a few days, but he'll come back. And I really don't think he would appreciate it if he found out you got yourself in a whole lot of trouble while he's been gone. If you need any help, you can call the store anytime and I'll answer, okay?"

Jongho nodded solemnly in response. He was mildly surprised that Yeonjun was being so kind to him after Jongho had blatantly disrupted his peaceful evening.

It made sense now why Yeosang had been able to open up to him, Yeonjun was an incredibly nice person, a picture perfect employee, and a loyal friend.

Once again, Yeosang was an excellent judge of character.

Yeonjun sent Jongho off with a smile and a little exaggerated wave, the bell over the door chimed and tinkled to announce his exit.

The whole way home Jongho walked fast and kept his head down through the unpopulated streets, avoiding everyone he saw. He felt like every gaping shadow he passed belonged to yet another android that was lurking around, just waiting for him to let his guard down once more.

Jongho felt bad for dumping his worries on Yeonjun like that, but once he'd opened the floodgates, all his worries had just started pouring out. Usually he found solace in Yeosang, who was always waiting for him to return from his afternoon classes, with sweet tea and dinner at the ready.

With no output to vent to, his thoughts continued to pile in overwhelming towers of uncertainty, and it was only so long until they collapsed completely.

There were so many ways that telling Yeonjun about the hatchings could go wrong. The "Creators" could hunt Yeonjun down, just to ensure he doesn't snitch. Whether by staging a hatching or taking more serious measures like that woman had almost done in the alleyway.

The bright side of Yeonjun finding out about some of the hatching lies, was that hopefully Yeonjun would know what to avoid and how to stay protected. He doubted Yeonjun would tell anyone else, mostly because of how unreal it might seem to other people. Jongho was sure that the only reason Yeonjun hadn't just kicked him to the curb was because of the clear proof on Jongho's back, that, and the fact that he was too nice.

The handprint still remained as a burning mark on the back of his shoulder, and Jongho resisted the urge to wipe it away from his skin.

He quickened his pace, not keen on staying out alone in the night any longer than he had to. Without the presence of wandering pedestrians, even on a clear night like tonight, Jongho felt alone and unnerved.

Thankfully he reached his apartment with no other confrontations. The overwhelming temptation of just collapsing on the couch and calling it a night hit him as soon as he pushed through the front door. His shoulders dropped as he groaned, knowing he needed a shower first.

The renewed phantom pressure of the handprint on the back of his shoulder hit him as soon as he stepped foot into the bathroom. He peeled away the remains of his tattered shirt, twisting at a semi-awkward angle to finally see the mark for himself.

It wasn't a full handprint. It was more like the smudged top half of one, which only included four fingers and the top arch of a palm.

Jongho winced at the sight, knowing full well that if the robot woman had managed to get a firm grip things would have turned out a lot differently. He thanked his lucky stars that she hadn't succeeded.

In order to follow through on his idea he needed to salvage as much as possible.

Jongho took a small detour to the kitchen, just to collect a butter knife and small resealable bag. His feet carried him back to the bathroom on excess power, and Jongho found himself once more in front of the mirror. He flipped the knife around in order to use the dull side to scrape off the black goop into the plastic bag somewhat delicately. Well he tried to be careful, but his tired mind was making things a lot more difficult than they needed to be.

He sealed the bag tightly as soon as he was finished with it and placed it next to the sink. It remained there while he had a shower, but he made sure to take it with him to his bedroom after as well.

He lay it carefully on the dresser, while he changed and threw together a pitiful dinner.

Jongho's eyes locked on his neck in one of the hall mirrors on one of his many trips back and forth, and he paused mid-step.

He studied the darkening bruise in the shape of hand around his throat, seeing how it blossomed deep purple over his skin. He went to run a cautious hand over the marks but flinched at the slightest pressure. His throat ached and he wasn't sure how well he could talk. He tried to say something random just to prove he still could, but no sound escaped his vocal chords.

Jongho wanted to head butt the wall when he remembered that he was meant to meet the Elites in a few hours. He'd been told it wasn't about their 'mission' or whatever they were meant to be calling it, it was something else. Something they hadn't cared to elaborate on, despite Jongho's curious nature.

He made sure to ice the bruise carefully, by wrapping ice in a clean washcloth to prevent the ice from directly touching the large bruises. It was all Jongho could do about them. He didn't have any cream or anything like that to dress them with so he had to make do.

He also didn't own any makeup that he could use to cover them up, Yeosang probably did, but there was also the fact that Jongho didn't know how to apply it. Instead he opted for a cream coloured turtle neck to wear to the meeting.

It was nothing against the Elites, but he'd rather they not know about what happened. He was fearful of their reactions, perhaps they would back out if they knew about the dangers. He wouldn't really blame them, the only problem was if the Elites backed out, Jongho was on his own again. He refused to give up on Yeosang, even though the ghostly choking hands of that woman haunted his mind.

The turtleneck successfully masked all of the bruises, but that didn't mean they washed away the dull ache of the dark marks. Jongho wasn't sure how he was going to talk, but that was a problem for him to tackle later.

He made sure to lock the scuffed oak door at the front of the apartment, knowing that some of his neighbours were a little too nosy for their own good.

He called a cab this time, using the extra money he'd been saving for emergencies. He considered this enough of an emergency, there was no way he was walking past any more creepy bus ladies. His neck had had enough for a good long while. He would like to say it was retired, but there was no guarantee of that.

Jongho would rather not make almost dying a routine, but everything relied on him and his new 'teammates', if he could call them that. No one else was going to face the mysterious Creators, so it was up to them.

The 'Creators' had made it fairly clear that they were not past using force if necessary. Jongho rubbed over his neck just thinking about it. This only solidified Jongho's belief that whatever they were planning, they were not about to give it up easily.

He mulled over all these things while staring forlornly out the cab's back window. The driver probably thought he was going through something tough like a breakup because he asked at least twice if Jongho was alright. Jongho appreciated the concern, but he brushed off the questions with a simple nod. If he could talk he would've, because his silence only confirmed the cab driver's suspicions.

With a small non verbal thank you in the form of a small bow, Jongho paid the driver and stepped away from the brightly coloured vehicle.

He made his way around to the back of the club, where Hongjoong had said the door was always open. The front was more crowded than when he had left, swarms of people loitered around clearly vying to get in. It was only an hour before opening time, but it was still packed on the sidewalk. An obvious inconvenience for anyone who was trying to walk past.

There was no one in sight when he went in at first, but while he was on the way to the Brig more and more began to appear. He had to pass a few workers that came in early to help with set up, some were cleaning tables, and a few others were taking stock. There was even a crew of three testing the sound for Hongjoong's setup. He didn't recognize any of them.

Some of them gave him strange looks, others just ignored him entirely. Jongho figured that one of the Elites had mentioned he was coming and that was why no one directly confronted him.

The descent down the midnight stairs to the Brig with darkness surrounding him on nearly all sides was beginning to become familiar. He didn't need the small inlaid lights to guide him anymore, his feet already knew the way.

The Brig was the perfect meeting place for them, as it was off limits to everyone in the club except the Elites. It worked perfectly for their current situation, like a hideout of sorts.

This meant that the people who knew the truth of the hatchings was restricted to their small group, plus Moonbin and now Yeonjun. Though they both hadn't been told the whole story. Only enough that they would understand.

It was good to keep the amount of people in the know as small as possible. There was too much of a chance of betrayal, or even worse, the 'Creators' finding out their plans because someone decided to run their mouth.

To be honest, Jongho didn't know a lot about the Elites. Other than the rumours that circled around drunk patrons, and the controversial whispers of outside sources with nothing better to do with their lives. All so adamant that there was more going on behind the scenes than the Elites would like you to believe.

Wooyoung hadn't really changed since high school, so Jongho felt the most comfortable around him. (Of course only because they shared a friend and their goals aligned, not any other reason.)

Hongjoong seemed like a nice person, but there was an unexplainable air of authority that followed him around like a dark cloud. It set Jongho on edge, because it felt like Hongjoong was not someone you wanted to cross. For whatever reason. He commanded attention without meaning to, so Jongho did feel a little uneasy in his presence at times.

Seonghwa, in comparison, was pretty silent and at most times appeared uninterested. He hid a lot of his true character behind the mask of the aloof businessman. Though there were a few scarce times when the cracks in the mask revealed slivers of something beneath, but Jongho still had yet to fully break through. Jongho could tell there was more there than Seonghwa cared to display.

It was hard to find anything negative to say about Yunho. He was a really sweet person and a really hard worker, plus he was always striving to improve. He stayed extra hours and spent a lot of time at Wonderland. In fact, he'd heard passing remarks from other staff members that most of the time, Yunho would be the only one at Wonderland on days the club was closed. Whether to just take extra inventory, do some extra cleaning, or to just check on the state of everything. Though Jongho hadn't made the greatest first impression when he practically manhandled his boyfriend, Yunho had still opened up to him after the shock had blown over. Jongho was still grateful to him for that.

He didn't know much about Mingi, other than what Yunho had told him about him. Apparently he was a hyperactive ball of energy with a big heart. The other Elites had mentioned him once or twice, and they all spoke very highly of him. They spoke so much good about him that Jongho genuinely wished he could have had a chance to meet him in person. The robot version of him wasn't really the best model to base his final opinions on. However, they still had to get him and Yeosang back first.

The only one of the Elites that Jongho wasn't quite sure how to feel about was San. He hadn't really made an effort to get close to him after he'd displayed the first signs of hostility. They hadn't even talked, not since the first night anyway. Jongho still didn't know why San acted so differently around him, he had some suspicions, sure, but no clear answers. Plus those hostile feelings seemed to double whenever Wooyoung was there too.

Jongho wished that somehow they could find common ground, or at least settle on some sort of truce. He'd seen the way San had acted around the others when Jongho wasn't in his line of sight. He was a genuinely caring and goofy person, and complete opposite from who he pretended to be around Jongho. Which only served to make him more confused, what had Jongho done to gain San as an enemy?

Jongho had to turn his attention back to where he was going after his mind wandered away and he almost tripped. With his throat already sore, the last thing he needed was his whole body to turn out the same. He twisted the doorknob at the bottom of the stairs, peeking into the well furnished room for signs of life.

He was surprised to only see Seonghwa leaning against the small bar counter to the left, his back to the door.

He made sure to take loud enough steps so that Seonghwa would notice him, just in case he managed to give the man a scare.

Seonghwa glanced back at the small shuffling noise of Jongho's feet over the carpet, and turned back to where he was mixing some strange, colourful drink. But then he seemed to catch himself and he turned his gaze up again to meet Jongho's, this time with a more welcoming expression and even the ghost of a small smile.

Jongho strode over to one of the barstools, spinning around to face Seonghwa's back. His elbow leaned against the opposite counter as he cradled his cheek with his palm. He made sure to avoid putting any unnecessary pressure on the bruises hidden beneath his turtleneck.

Seonghwa whistled an unfamiliar tune that had Jongho tapping his fingers on the counter to the rhythm.

He was struck when he realized that he had forgotten to find an excuse to why he wouldn't talk. He mentally facepalmed and cursed himself internally with a string of creative curses he wouldn't dare repeat out loud. With only Seonghwa and him in the room, there was no way he wouldn't have to talk at some point. If others were in here, they could have a conversation to themselves that Jongho could just spectate, but now Jongho was thrust head first into a speaking position.

Just as he began to pray that one of the others would show up, Seonghwa spoke up.

"Do you want a drink?" Seonghwa turned to face him with an eyebrow raised in question.

Jongho paused perhaps a moment too long before he shook his head, because Seonghwa gave him a strange look for a few seconds afterwards.

There was a long silence where nothing was said and Jongho only sat in the bar stool, worried he'd somehow given himself away. He was also wondering how in the world he was meant to bring up his find without giving away that he was attacked and unable to talk. Curse his stupid mind for coming up completely blank, as if all his thoughts had been siphoned down a metaphorical drain. At this point it seemed impossible for him to just pretend his 'near death experience' had never happened.

A sharp clack made him nearly jump from his skin and jerk his nervous stare up to meet Seonghwa's challenging gaze.

Seonghwa had whipped around while Jongho was lost in thought and slammed his drink down onto the counter with firm authority. He barely wasted a moment to lean forward with narrowed eyes.

"Why are you so quiet? Something's up."

Jongho froze at Seonghwa's sudden drop in tone.

Seonghwa, without a doubt, was one of the most intimidating Elites, with Hongjoong being his only true rival. His no-nonsense outlook paired with his natural attraction of attention made a formidable opponent. The rumours spoke a lot about the mysterious owner of Wonderland but Jongho didn't know how much he had believed them until now.

Jongho leaned away from the compelling ferocity of Seonghwa's obsidian gaze with his own wide eyes. He tried to speak out of habit, but whatever words he tried to form came out as a few choked coughs.

Seonghwa placed both of his hands on Jongho's shoulders in response, his confusion only growing. Jongho did catch a glimmer of concern in his dark eyes, but he masked it well.

The hands on his shoulders served to help ground him, and Jongho tried to cling to that constant. Any attempt at intimidation from Seonghwa was now replaced with a more open concern.

If Jongho had realized at the time that Seonghwa's walls were slowly crumbling, he may have even cheered out loud. 

"Are you okay? Why won't you talk?" Seonghwa searched his expression for answers after he'd finally finished coughing. Jongho ducked to avoid his direct gaze, but motioned invisibly writing on his opposite hand.

Seonghwa caught on immediately and reached into a drawer out of Jongho's sight, pulling out a pad of note paper and a short pencil.

Jongho took them from him gratefully, quickly scribbling out a short explanation. He glanced over his message when he had finished writing, nodding once before handing it over nervously.

"'I know how to find our friends'? What are you talking about?" Seonghwa read aloud, turning his obsidian gaze to look over at him incredulously.

Jongho whipped out the sealed plastic bag containing the strange black substance, sliding it across the bar counter for Seonghwa to see. Seonghwa cradled it carefully in his hands, pinching the bag beneath his fingers to observe its contents.

"How did you get this . . whatever it is?" Seonghwa questioned, making sure to place it down at Jongho's side with care. This time Seonghwa wasn't messing around, Jongho could tell that he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

Jongho yanked the pad of paper back over to him, writing quickly. Seonghwa wasn't that delicate when he snatched it away from him as soon as he finished writing.

He once again read aloud.

"'It came from a robot that I ran into earlier. We can track the materials the robots are made of, rather than the robots themselves.' You ran into a robot? What happened?" Seonghwa's drink was long forgotten as he diverted all attention to Jongho and his hastily scribbled words.

His dark eyes no longer invoked shivers of fear in Jongho. Instead they now carried an air of comfort that he couldn't explain. Like a smooth night, they now spoke of the many wonders beyond their scattered skies, but Jongho was in no way skilled enough to understand their meaning.

Jongho hesitated once again, not wanting to openly display the marks that marred the skin of his neck. However the determination and concern Seonghwa was slowly revealing was enough to convince him.

He lifted both hands to his neck, curling his fingers around the collar of his turtleneck and pulling. The fabric rolled down easily to unveil the bruises shaped in arrays of fingers.

Seonghwa let out a harsh breath that almost turned into a gasp, "What the hell!? Why didn't you say something earlier?" Seonghwa looked like he wanted to reach out to see them clearer, but he seemed to think better of it at the last moment.

Jongho gave him a deadpan look, and tilted his head almost sarcastically in response. Once Seonghwa realized, he winced and ran a hand through his hair keeping a hold of the ends.

"Right. Can't talk." Seonghwa leaned away as if to look for something, but it seemed a memory struck first. "I have some cream to help them heal faster in one of the spare rooms upstairs. If you wanna take off your shirt I'll be right back, I can even send someone down to keep you company if you'd like? It would have to be Yunho because he's the only other one here. None of the others have arrived yet." Seonghwa's final words were thrown over his shoulder, as he was already making his way around the bar to the door.

Jongho shook his head, not wanting anyone else to worry about him, but Seonghwa was already facing away. Jongho scrunched up his face in annoyance that he wasn't able to call out, while Seonghwa continued on his way and left him in the Brig alone.

Jongho had no choice but to listen.

He stripped off his turtleneck, checking out his bruises in the reflection of some of the alcoholic beverages on the counter. They were still a vibrant red bleeding into a deep purple, some of the smaller ones had even darkened past purple already.

That android woman had a vice-like grip, which made sense considering her strength was heightened past humanly possible.

Jongho didn't want to think about what hundreds of them could do against the masses of innocent civilians who lived their lives completely unaware of the army hidden within their own families and social environments.

The door creaked open behind him just as he deposited his cream turtleneck onto the barstool next to him. He assumed it was Seonghwa again, or maybe even Yunho if Seonghwa had sent him down after all, and thought nothing of it.

He went to roll his shoulders to work out the soreness there, but froze when he heard a startled gasp.

He whipped his head around so violently, he was momentarily worried he'd messed up his neck even more. He locked onto a shell-shocked Wooyoung whose own gaze never strayed from Jongho's speckled neck.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Wooyoung scrambled forward as soon as he overcame his shock, almost tripping over the corner of the couch on his way over.

Jongho could only look up at him silently, unable to answer. Seonghwa had stashed away the pad of paper before he'd gone upstairs, and Jongho had nothing else to write on.

Luckily he didn't have to as Seonghwa appeared moments later, as if knowing he was needed. His hands were full with a small bottle and a damp washcloth.

"Oh, Wooyoung. I didn't know you were here already," Seonghwa mused, with a small hum. It seemed like Seonghwa had had enough time upstairs to gather his thoughts and reel in his feelings. The calm and collected businessman facade was firmly back in place, and Jongho already missed the inch of feeling he had displayed earlier.

Wooyoung turned on him desperately, not in a mood for anything but answers, "What happened to him?"

Seonghwa made his way over to the bar where Wooyoung and Jongho were already waiting. "Apparently he had a recent run in with another android who wasn't there to make friends. I haven't heard the whole story yet because he can't talk, but it looks pretty serious," Seonghwa held up the bottle in his hand as if it was the answer to everything, "I was just about to put some cream on it."

Wooyoung bit his lip as he glanced between Jongho and Seonghwa, his hands knitting together uncertainly. Though he came to whatever conclusion he needed when Seonghwa took a step towards Jongho.

"Can I do it instead?" Wooyoung asked, whipping his hand out to stop Seonghwa in his tracks and also reach for the washcloth and the bottle in his hands.

Seonghwa fixed him with a strange look, pausing for a few moments before handing them over with a now knowing smile. "Sure," Seonghwa backed off, "I need to check on Yunho at the bar for inventory anyway. Be careful."

Wooyoung waited until Seonghwa had left before he turned back to Jongho, who'd been sitting silently watching their exchange with curious eyes.

"I'm gonna be as careful as I can. Tap my arm or something if I hurt you by accident," Wooyoung popped open the bottle with a small reassuring smile directed at Jongho's stunned expression. Jongho shook away his blossoming thoughts and gave him a small smile in return. Jongho tilted his head as far as he could without it hurting so Wooyoung could get at each bruise with ease.

Wooyoung worked swiftly in silence, so Jongho had nothing else to do other than to just sit and try not to let his mind wander too much.

It was a few silent moments later when Wooyoung broke away from where he'd been concentrating on Jongho's bruises.

"I'm done," he announced, resting his arms on Jongho's shoulders in order to examine his handiwork.

Wooyoung was directly facing him so Jongho took the time to observe Wooyoung up close while he was distracted.

Wooyoung was a beautiful person, inside and out. Jongho rarely met people that he could admit were both, so he considered Wooyoung a rarity.

Wooyoung's umber eyes were dipped in star-like sparkles, and his jawline leading into his high cheeks reminded Jongho of feather light clouds and marshmallows. His lips were like pink bubblegum and his hair framed his face with enough care that it seemed each strand had been made to rest that way. There was nothing Jongho couldn't admire about him. The way his smile curled into a mischievous grin when was about to mess with one of the Elites, and his naturally playful mannerisms as an added bonus only made him shine more.

In this fleeting moment, he pushed away all thoughts of what San would think, and willingly let himself drown in the wonder of Wooyoung.

No.

He couldn't allow himself to sink into Wooyoung's calming allure, but it was like trying to find solid ground in a sea of sinking sand.

"Oh! Sorry," Wooyoung's ears were dusted pink when he realized that his hands still lingered on Jongho's shoulders. It was also the same time he fully noticed Jongho's naked torso, as if it hadn't fully set in earlier.

Jongho shot Wooyoung a thankful smile when Wooyoung tossed him a blanket, wrapping it carefully around his shoulders. He barely heard Wooyoung's muttered excuse that 'he would be cold without it'.

Jongho knew he could never be cold with Wooyoung around.

There was an indescribable warmth that surrounded him like a comforting hug that he could only blame on the blond beside him.

------

hiya ♡

oops this was kinda late (12hrs oof)

i would have stayed up late to finish it on time,

but i promised i wouldn't (':

anyway,

oop that cheesiness at the end there haha

♡ thanks for reading ♡

{ps. chapter 6 is very special, plus i have an extra surprise planned. so do stay tuned (; }