Payback AU: What If

ACT 2.1 - A Syndrome Called You

A bloody knuckles, scrapped skins, dull pains. Lee Yoohan looked up at the night summer sky that finally cleared, although his clothes were already soaked. At the very least, his vision was no longer marred by rain droplets.

"Fuck it's hot." his body was damp, but the humidity still excruciating.

"Do you think you have time to talk about the wheathe—"

Slam!

The shout was turned into a grunt, as the owner of the voice stumbled back into a hardened wall, moaning in pain and clutching at his bloody nose. Yoohan sighed, and walked across strewn, moaning figures on the alley's ground. He used to get stimulated by this kind of fight, but nowadays, when he had to concentrate on the impending cSAT, everything became an act of distraction.

"I know you guys are dumb shit," he rummaged through one of the guys he had just beaten into pulp and took out a pack of smoke. "But you still need to get your intel together, man."

One of the guys glared at him and tried to get up, hurling curses that were subdued by swollen lips. "I got nothing to do with the South, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"Bullh...shith!" Yoohan would laugh if he wasn't so damn tired. He had spent the whole day doing part-time jobs after pulling an all-nighter in his study. And just when he'd about to go home to rest, these scums came at him with a pile of hostile misunderstandings. "Why..d'you spenth sho mush time on derh base then?"

Yoohan clicked his tongue and stomped his foot down hard on the speaking guy. "I work there dumbass. Doesn't mean I'm part of the gang."

"Fugh!! Ugh—" the guy tried to struggle, only for Yoohan to put even more strength on his feet. "You beath up one of our guhy!"

Yoohan pulled the only remaining dry cigarette and snickered. "You should tell your guy to keep his hand to himself when he goes out spying on other's turf," he tapped the glaring guy with his dirty shoes. "You know, lying low, focus on your task instead of flirting around—basic stuff?" he swept his blonde locks back and reached for his pants, only to realize he had no lighter on him. "You dumb shits got any lighter on you?" he looked down, patting the struggling guy's pocket with his feet.

"You fugheers!!"

"Yeah, yeah, real scary man. So you got it or not?" Yoohan put the stick between his lips and was about to loot another writhing guy, when a zippo appeared below his face, attached to a big, strong-looking hand. His eyes caught a pair of black formal shoes, stopping right in front of him. Yoohan was startled and almost stepped back in caution. He didn't even hear any footsteps, so where the hell was this person coming from? And since when?

"Need a fire?"

A low, gentle voice.

Lee Yoohan froze. The hot, suffocating feeling he had since earlier was turned into a chilling cold that enveloped his neck and streamed down his spine. He looked up slowly, black eyes widened.

A pair of pale orbs, glowing softly under the dim light of the alleyways. A deep smile. A pair of dimples. A sharp jaw. A handsome face. A gorgeous sight.

A curse.

Yoohan felt his breathing stop, heartbeat ceased to exist. He stood silently as the cigarette between his lips was lit up, and stared without blinking at the man that had been plaguing his sleepless night even after four years.

Yoon Jay.

Still as imposing as Yoohan remembered, and then some. The handsome face hadn't changed, much more that infuriating smile. But clad in a formal suit, hair sleek, and unmistakable superior air that he never failed to carry around, Yoon Jay managed to appear even more breathtaking. And that solid figure was now leaning closely towards Yoohan, who hadn't managed to come out of his stupor and whisper.