Checkmate | Seongjoong

XV (Edited)

Chapter Fifteen

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Hongjoong tossed and turned in bed, his thoughts a chaotic swirl, echoing the turbulent events of the night. He couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling that lingered after his conversation with Seonghwa. Frustration surged through him as he recalled the abrupt ending to their call.

"Why did I do that..." Hongjoong muttered to himself, his voice tinged with self-reproach. He set his phone down with a loud thud on the desk, clenching his fists in a mixture of confusion and irritation. His platinum-white locks fell over his face as he buried his head in his hands, grappling with his emotions. "What did I expect?"

With a heavy sigh, he sought solace in the shower, hoping the steaming water would ease his restlessness. But the scalding heat only intensified his discomfort, causing him to hastily shut off the faucet, his skin feeling raw and sensitive. He dried himself off, wincing at the pain that lingered.

As he returned to the living room, his gaze fell upon Nero, nestled cozily next to San on the couch. Hongjoong gently picked up the cat and set him down before tending to San's healed wounds, removing the bandages with a sense of relief. He couldn't help but marvel at San's resilience; the scars told a story of survival against overwhelming odds.

With care, Hongjoong carried San to his room, placing him on the bed and tucking him in. He observed San clutching one of the plushies, finding comfort in its softness, and smiled tenderly at the sight. Dimming the lights, Hongjoong stepped out, his mind still swirling with the night's events.

In his own room, Hongjoong lay on his bed, the weight of the night bearing down on him. Thoughts of the bar explosion, the chaos that ensued, and the abrupt call to Seonghwa replayed in his mind like a broken record. He tossed and turned, sleep eluding him, as he grappled with the emotions and uncertainties that plagued his thoughts.

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The serene ambiance of the falling snow calmed Seonghwa's nerves as he trudged through the chilly streets. The late hour and the biting cold made him wish he'd reconsidered leaving the hospital when he did. The faint sound of snow crunching under their footsteps echoed in the deserted cityscape. With a shiver, he glanced at his phone, registering the ungodly hour.

"Maybe we should've waited until morning," Seonghwa mumbled, a hint of regret colouring his words.

Seonghwa immediately regretted leaving the hospital as he felt the chill seep into his bones. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and winced at the late hour flashing on the screen. They'd been at the bar late, and his hospital stay had undoubtedly prolonged their night. "How about you guys crash at my place? I live down the block," Jongho suggested, and the three readily agreed.

Upon entering Jongho's apartment, the agent dashed inside to quickly tidy up. "Sorry for the mess. Wasn't expecting guests," Jongho apologised, his voice soft as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Still as messy as ever, Jongho," Yeosang chuckled, giving him a playful arm punch. "Nice place, by the way. Can't believe you never invited me over," he added, teasingly pouting.

"Well, excuse me for not being able to contact you after your sudden disappearance," Jongho retorted, crossing his arms defensively, although a hint of humour lingered in his eyes.

"We're really sorry to suddenly barge in like this, but we really appreciate it. Tomorrow we'll leave for Busan first thing in the morning," Seonghwa explained, taking in the open space of the apartment.

Jongho hurried to his room, retrieving spare clothes for the boys. "Sorry, guys, I only have one spare room. There's a double in there if you want to share, and there's the couch out here."

"That's totally fine," Seonghwa replied, accepting the clothes from Jongho.

The trust between Yeosang and Jongho had always been palpable, even in their shared moments of silence. As Yeosang was preparing his makeshift bed on the couch, he heard soft, barely audible footsteps. His head spun around, scanning the room, finding no one. Resuming his task, arranging the blankets, a warmth encircled his waist, a familiar presence pressing against his back.

"Jongho, what do you want now?" Yeosang chuckled softly, recognizing his friend's playful nature.

"Nothing," Jongho mumbled, arms securing around Yeosang's waist. Their closeness wasn't unfamiliar; it was a reflection of years spent as inseparable friends since middle school. It was a bond interrupted only by Yeosang's abrupt departure during their senior year when he joined the VEU academy.

Jongho's words, always sincere, filled the room. "You know, you can always join me in my bed instead of sleeping out here." He squeezed Yeosang tighter, flashing his trademark gummy smile. "Hm? How about it?"

Yeosang couldn't resist that endearing grin, a smile he'd known for years. With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he followed Jongho to his room, relishing the ease of being reunited with his closest friend.

"You know..." Jongho started awkwardly as they crawled into the tight space on the bed. He continued, "I know we're like business colleagues and we're supposed to keep things professional between us. But I can't help but be ecstatic at the thought of having my best friend back. It's been so long and you have no idea how happy I was when I saw you in that office. You really are my best friend and I'll always love you."

"Shh Jongho. Go to sleep. It's late." Yeosang shushed. He was thankful that it was dark so that the younger couldn't see how flushed he was. But the truth was, he hated those words. Best friend. Because in reality, he knew that's all he's ever been and will be. Jongho's best friend. Eventually both of them drifted off to sleep.

Seonghwa's mind buzzed with thoughts, the quiet of the night only amplifying his contemplations. Mingi's loud snores added a surreal background to his reflections, making him feel a mix of annoyance and amusement. His mind was consumed by the events of the past hours, particularly thoughts of someone specific—someone who'd stirred a curious fascination within him. Despite his strong urge to call Hongjoong, he reasoned it was far too late for that.

The following morning arrived swiftly, the agents, as Seonghwa requested, roused themselves early, freshly showered and dressed in their sleek suits. Gathering their belongings, they rendezvoused at the park just outside the city, an odd sight for the locals, who gawked at the impeccably dressed quartet.

After a significant wait, a black Mercedes gracefully pulled up, and a man, Lee Minho, stepped out to greet them. Seonghwa introduced himself, and the driver, Minho, ushered them into the luxurious interior of the car, resembling a high-end limousine.

Their journey to Busan spanned several hours, the comfort of the car contrasting with the growing tension upon reaching their destination. Protesters crowded the headquarters, cameras flashed, and reporters clamoured at the entrance. Ignoring the chaos, the agents strode confidently through the throng, making their way to the building's rear entrance. Buff security guards held the doors open, granting them access amid the bustling scene.

In that moment, a sense of purpose surged within Seonghwa. He felt the weight of responsibility and the significance of his role. Determined to assist, communicate, and aid in any way possible, he knew he was ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.