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rip to our youth

Summary:

at first glance, jeonghan would appear as a young man, at age 21, singing as a career with 12 other boys. but he was so much more – yoon jeonghan was the tough, cold-hearted and feared heir apparent to the angel’s den – a well-known gang that had taken jihoon in 3 years ago.

in which jeonghan and jihoon are both gang members and members of seventeen at the same time and literally no one knows.

[warnings ; as this is a gang au, there will be blood and violence. i will state in the notes if there's violence, but if you're triggered by gang violence, please don't read]

Notes:

i apologise in advance for any mistakes in writing and in how a gang works.

also, as i said before, there will be gang violence and blood and possible gore in this. i'll say in the notes before each chapter if there's gore or not, but keep this in mind.

trigger warnings for ch1 ; blood & violence mention

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: angels could be bad

Chapter Text

“Shut up, Lee Jihoon, or I swear on every bone in my body that all of yours will be broken in the next two minutes,” came the whispered hiss from the long-haired male, blond hair already falling out of its ponytail as he helped the other up the stairs, an arm wrapped tightly around his waist.
“Wow, two minutes, Jeonghan? You’re loosening up,” came the grunted response as the shorter, pink-haired male clutched onto the older one, fingers slipping from the other’s blood stained skin.
“I’m your damn hyung, show me some respect,” Jeonghan muttered as he finally hauled Jihoon up to the top of the staircase, fingers digging into the younger’s waist, fumbling for his key.
“Didn’t I tell Seungcheol to leave this fu-” Jeonghan’s gripes were cut off as Jihoon turned the knob and lightly kicked the door open, groaning softly in pain.
“Really, Han-ie, that blow to your head must’ve done something, seeing as you forgot we were the only ones awake when we left, leaving the door unlocked,” Jihoon quipped, breathlessly laughing before wincing again.
“Now get me to the bathroom before I bleed out on the doorstep.”

 

Jeonghan sighed as he washed his hands in the bathroom sink, watching as the blood ran down the white sides and into the drain. He looked up into the mirror, only to see a pale face with eye-bags the size of Jupiter and blond hair matted with sweat, dirt and caked blood. A small tear drop tattoo was showing under his left eye, stark against his skin.
Jihoon was currently asleep in the bathtub, the shower on a gentle, warm spray to wash the majority of the blood and dirt off of him. He’d had a rough time that night – thrown around like a punching bag between three meat-heads during his mission to expose some corrupt, rich assholes. It was a good thing that Jihoon had a high pain tolerance, and that Jeonghan found him fast enough, or he might’ve ended up in a worse condition.
The blond slowly dragged his way over to the bathtub, sliding in next to Jihoon, allowing the warm water to encompass him as well. Jihoon mumbled something softly, moving to rest his head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, the elder not batting an eyelid.
When you’ve seen your partner in much worse situations – strung up, almost dead – you tend to get pretty close.

 

Jihoon woke up to new clothes, clean skin and an asleep Jeonghan on the closed toilet lid, also changed and clean himself; the teardrop tattoo - only seen on Jeonghan, seeing as Jihoon was free from the mark - now hidden under a coat of makeup. Raising his arms above his head to stretch, he couldn’t help but wince as pain flared in his lower stomach.
“Shit,” he muttered, one hand resting on the sore spot as he looked up to the clock that was in the bathroom.
6:33, it read, causing a soft groan to escape the pink-haired male. It was almost 7am, the time when Seungcheol would probably wake up and look for Jeonghan to wake the others up (“kids,” as Jeonghan and Seungcheol would state). Jihoon crawled over to Jeonghan, lightly tapping his hyung on the knee.
“Jeonghan hyung, Jeonghaaaaan hyuuuuung, Han-iiiieeee,” Jihoon called softly, lightly shaking the other but to no avail – Jeonghan was out like a light. Jihoon inwardly cursed as he stood up, bracing himself for the, no doubt, violent reaction he would receive.
One…

Two…

Three…

A yelp escaped Jihoon as he was suddenly pinned against the opposite wall, a very awake Jeonghan holding him down.
“Wh- Jihoon! Next time you do that, I’m leaving you to Dongjae’s clutches!” Jeonghan hissed, rubbing his sore cheek as Jihoon visibly paled, stepping back from the long-haired male.
“Sorry hyung, but you were out like a light and it’s almost 7.” In the space it had taken Jihoon to wake Jeonghan, there was enough time for the clock to reach 6:45, indicating another fifteen minutes until Jeonghan’s alarm, left beside his and Seungcheol’s bunk bed, would go off.
Jeonghan muttered a few curses under his breath before grasping Jihoon’s arm, pulling him up and out of the bathroom.
“Go get the coffee and juice ready – I’m going to wake the others up in a minute,” the blond stated, absentmindedly patting Jihoon’s arm.
“Good luck, hyung.”
“Thanks.”

 

“Hansol, if you are not out of this bed in FIVE seconds, your privileged kidneys will NOT be functioning!” Jeonghan yelled, yanking the blanket off the whining teenager, ignoring the snickers from his roommates, Chan and Seungkwan.
“Hyung! I thought we all agreed to never talk about that!” came Hansol’s response, tone too whiney for 7:15am. Jeonghan snapped one end of the blanket at the young rapper, gaining a yelp from him and a body sliding to the floor in defeat. A smile spread across Jeonghan’s face as he dropped the blanket on the floor, turning to the door.
“Make your bed too – Seungkwan, Chan! Breakfast should be ready soon, so head out now,” Jeonghan called over his shoulder before leaving the room, turning to enter the main living space.
On the couch was Junhui and Minghao, the latter’s head resting in Jun’s lap. Jun was slowly carding his fingers through his hair, drinking his coffee out of the Hello Kitty mug that Soonyoung had found and brought home a few weeks ago. At their feet, leaning against the couch, was Mingyu, Wonwoo, Soonyoung and Seokmin – Wonwoo and Soonyoung nursing warm cups of coffee, whilst Seokmin and Mingyu enjoyed the orange juice that Jihoon had put out. Finally, Jisoo and Seungcheol were leaning against the kitchen counter, trying to engage a silent and tired Jihoon in conversation.
Jeonghan made his way through the room, ignoring how Chan, Seungkwan and Hansol finally joined the rest of the group with yells and complains. He slotted in between Seungcheol and Jihoon, turning to rest his back against the counter.
“Morning,” Jeonghan stated, reaching for a cup of coffee that rested in front of Jihoon, taking a sip before his face scrunched up in distaste.
“Why must you take coffee so bitter?” he complained, setting the coffee back down. Jihoon levelled a look at Jeonghan whilst Seungcheol and Jisoo laughed softly on either side of the two.
“It’s to cancel out his soul,” Seungcheol piped up, hand resting on Jeonghan’s shoulder as he peered over at the shorter man, retreating slightly when said man turned his glare on him.
“Leave me and my coffee alone – besides, hyung, I made a coffee for you. It’s over by the machine,” Jihoon pointed over to the black coffee machine, where a white coffee mug decorated with black stripes awaited Jeonghan, steam slowly rising.
“Ah, thank you Jihoon-ie,” the elder’s tone expressed immense gratitude, ruffling the pink locks before moving over to where his drink awaited him.
“Aish, you disrespectful dongsaeng, where’s our coffees?” Seungcheol complained, Jisoo making a point to ignore their leader’s immature tone and grab a mug, moving over to where Jeonghan was.
“Over by the machine, with the cups, as you can make your own,” Jihoon stated bluntly, taking another sip of his coffee before walking off, claiming the single armchair in the corner as his and his alone. He settled against the soft cushions, biting back the pained groan as his bruised muscles protested.
“But Jihooooon-” Seungcheol’s complains were cut off as Jeonghan shoved some toast in his face as he passed by, hair already gathered up in a loose ponytail.
“Cheol-ah, you’re hurting our ears,” he stated innocently, sitting down next to Jun, legs tucking underneath himself. Jisoo didn’t bother stifling his giggles at Seungcheol’s offended face.
“Fine, be that way, Jeonghan,” he pouted, leaning his head against the cool counter, before straightening up again.
“Everyone, make sure you eat your breakfast to get your strength for today – we have two performances today and that’s all!” he called out loudly, his voice changing from whiney and complaining to one of a leader’s. Various answers of ‘okay!’, ‘sure, hyung,’ and a grunt from Jihoon sounded throughout the room, indicating their understanding of their schedule and, thus, the beginning of their day.

 

Jeonghan bit his lip as he tugged at his collar, feeling the area around his neck heating up. It was boiling where he was right now, and his outfit was mainly black, so he felt the heat more than the others. A grateful smile tugged at his lips as Mingyu handed him a refilled cold water bottle, opening it to down almost a quarter of its content.
“Ah, hyung, slow down – you don’t want to throw up on stage, do you?” Soonyoung called from his spot ahead, Jeonghan waving his statement off.
“I’ll be fine, Soonyoung-ie, don’t worry about me,” he said, his words coming out in breathless gasps however. His hair was tied up, yet he still felt sweat gathering at the back of his neck.
I’ve been through worse situations, I’ve had harder things happen to me. I can survive this heat, Jeonghan thought, desperately trying to gather the willpower to not give into the heat, drinking more of the water. He was about to finish the damn thing until he felt two hands cover his, gently prying it from his hands.
“Hyung, you’ll get sick,” Jihoon muttered, handing the object to Mingyu before he turned back to Jeonghan. He reached up to press his hand to Jeonghan’s forehead, feeling the sweat-slicked skin under his cool hand. Jihoon ignored the soft sound that came from Jeonghan – obviously, the cold touch from the perpetually freezing Jihoon was helping him – and pulled back after a minute, frowning.
“You should head up to the front with Cheol hyung – he has a small fan you could use,” Jihoon stated, tugging Jeonghan forward.
“If you don’t, I’ll personally make sure you’re sick on stage.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the younger’s statement, ignoring the gasps around him, and lightly flicked him on the forehead.
“Be more respectful, dongsaeng, and I’ll head up now,” he finished, already shrugging his jacket off and moving past the other members, murmuring apologies and ‘excuse me’s’.
Jihoon just hoped he could cool down before he sweated so much, you could see his teardrop tattoo.

 

The performances went by smoothly – no one fell, they all sounded good and Jeonghan wasn’t sick on stage (to the surprise of Soonyoung). Jihoon swiped the back of his neck with a small towel, one of the small ones that had been passed out earlier to all of the members. He silently tolerated Soonyoung and Seokmin’s jostling and loud chattering behind him, focusing on the thought of the dorm and sweet, sweet relief in the form of sleeping. Closing his eyes for a brief second, Jihoon savoured the cool wind, chilling his sweat-slicked skin and relaxing him, giving him enough strength so he wouldn’t collapse before he reached the cars.
Jeonghan was up the front, Seungcheol’s arm around his shoulders, his towel strewn across the leader’s head. Jisoo was on the other side of Jeonghan, hands in his pockets and towel folded and on his shoulder.
“So, Jeonghan-ah, you feel better now?” Jisoo asked, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sun. Jeonghan nodded, his head turning to face the younger male.
“I’m feeling much better, Jisoo. It was just really hot earlier,” Jeonghan responded softly, his lips twisting into a genuine smile, hands copying Jisoo’s position and finding their way into Jeonghan’s pockets.
“Ah, Han-ah, you got to take more care of yourself! Can’t have our angel collapsing on us!” The comfortable silence was disturbed by Seungcheol’s words, cutting into the conversation with a grin and a look given to the other ’95 liners.
“Yah, Choi Seungcheol, I’m not that weak! I can handle heat!” Jeonghan protested, which prompted the two eldest members to start bickering like children, Jisoo watching on with a fond smile.
As the members were ushered into the waiting cars, Jihoon found himself in the first car with Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Jisoo, Seungkwan and Minghao, pushed to the window seat at the back. Minghao and Seungkwan filled up the back as well, the ’95 liners taking the three seats in front of them.
As they drove through the streets, the car filled with Seungkwan’s energetic singing and the occasional “Shut up, Seungkwan” from Seungcheol’, Jihoon managed to rest; head leaning against the window and hands in his lap. He didn’t close his eyes, though, staring at the blond in front of him. At first glance, Jeonghan would appear as a young man, at age 21, singing as a career with 12 other boys. But he was so much more – Yoon Jeonghan was the tough, cold-hearted and feared heir apparent to the Angel’s Den – a well-known gang that had taken Jihoon in 3 years ago.
The gangs brought out another side to Jeonghan – a calculative, harsh Jeonghan. One who made difficult decisions and knew how to get information from someone. One who could wield knives with the talent of an expert and how best to use them. A Jeonghan who bore the teardrop tattoo, a mark Jihoon had hoped none of them would ever achieve.
It was hard to believe an angel like Yoon Jeonghan could be so devilish.

Chapter 2

Summary:

"And now, Jihoon couldn’t even hear his hyungs anymore, and the only thought running through his head was 'get away get away get away where’s Jeonghan hyung where is he-'"

Life goes on, but that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

Notes:

trigger warnings; violence, wounds, blood, knives

omg its been ages since i even thought abt this fic
i was just searching through my works to see what i should update nd i found this fic and i just ... gang jeonghoon called to me

hopefully ill be able to update this one a lot now

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"Hyuuuung-“

“Stop whining, Mingyu, or I’m not getting you anything,” Jihoon bit out, balancing a phone between his ear and his shoulder as he scoured the shelves of the convenience store. Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Jisoo were on the other side, arguing softly over what snacks to get the younger members. Jihoon ignored Mingyu’s puppy-whining through the phone as he grabbed a few packets of chocolate that he knew would shut the taller male up later.

The only reason that Jihoon had accompanied the eldest trio on their trip was because Jun was sleeping off a light injury, Wonwoo refused to leave the dorm and Soonyoung couldn’t be trusted with shopping.

(Jeonghan also gave Jihoon a ‘look’ – the look he gives when Jihoon absolutely had to listen to him)

“I’m hanging up now, bye Mingyu.”

“W-Wait, hyu-!”

Jihoon quickly slid his phone into his pocket, before finally turning back to the assortment of chocolate and sweets in front of him. He was reaching for a few packets of sweets to slide under Chan’s pillow when another hand (an all-too familiar hand) shot out before his, grabbing it before he could even think to react.

“Ah, Jihoon-ie, what are you doing so open in the day?” Chills ran down Jihoon’s spine, and he felt Yoonjun crowd him from behind, trapping him with his imposing frame. Seo Yoonjun was one of the trusted right-hand men in the gang, in charge of training recruits and maintaining other member’s skills, and was one of the few who knew both Jeonghan and Jihoon without their disguises.

But Jihoon hated Yoonjun ever since he witnessed one of his training sessions with Jeonghan, and he could never forget the sickening crack of pipe on arm, or the glint in Yoonjun’s eye and the tears in eighteen-year-old Jeonghan’s. (It was one of the few times he’d ever been close to tears, ever since Jihoon joined the gang) Yoonjun was dangerous, and Jihoon refused to ever be alone near him.

And now, Jihoon couldn’t even hear his hyungs anymore, and the only thought running through his head was get away get away get away where’s Jeonghan hyung where is he-

“Jihoon!” Jihoon’s head shot up to see Jeonghan himself at the end of the aisle, smiling widely and arms full of ramyun packets. “Come on! We have to hurry back!” Jihoon nodded, managing to push himself out of Yoonjun’s grip. He left the sweets in his hand – Jihoon would just give Chan his share – and hurried to Jeonghan’s side.

When Jihoon looked closer at Jeonghan’s expression, more chills ran down his spine, and for good reason. There was something different about Jeonghan – his posture was straighter, and Jihoon could feel power exuding from him. He stared down Yoonjun for a few seconds, before completely reverting back to SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and dumping his ramyun into Jihoon’s basket and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

When Jihoon looked over his shoulder, Yoonjun was gone.

 

(“Hyung, about the convenience sto-“

“Don’t worry about it, Jihoon.”)

 


 

 

Watching Jeonghan continuously move throughout the interview almost killed Jihoon (figuratively – he’d almost died enough times to know the difference).

Jihoon could see the concealed discomfort in the twitch of Jeonghan’s fingers, or the constant droning of pain in his coiled shoulders. Jihoon knew that Jeonghan was in pain – he was also still suffering from last night. But Jihoon, whilst he was known for being cranky and standoffish with the members, welcomed the soothing touch of Jun’s hand on his lower back, or the subtle strokes of Wonwoo’s fingers on his legs, or even the soft smiles Soonyoung would give him during the quick breaks in the interviews.

Jeonghan, however, never let anyone try and give him comfort during these times, and always placed himself as far away from Jisoo and Seungcheol as he could. It angered and hurt Jihoon to see Jeonghan willingly doing this to himself, but the elder never listened to Jihoon (or anyone really) when it came to his own health.

Jihoon noticed the worried looks Seungcheol would give Jisoo, and the almost-scary determination in Jisoo’s when he’d notice Jeonghan’s continuous shifting. Jihoon knew that where he and Jeonghan were close, the eldest three has a bond that rivalled theirs – despite only having a few years together, compared to Jihoon and Seungcheol’s many years spent training, the three immediately clicked into that ‘eldest hyungs’ role, and really cemented their friendship over the years.

But Jihoon knew that Jeonghan infuriated them sometimes, and that the secrets he was building up would end badly with the three. (did they really have a choice, though?)

 

After the interview, Jihoon found himself making his way to where Jeonghan had disappeared into the bathroom, intent on giving him a few (soft) words of his own, when he heard voices from inside.

Voices that belonged to Hong Jisoo and Choi Seungcheol.

“… can’t keep doing this to yourself, Han-ie …”

“… what am I doing, Cheol?”

“Jeonghan-ah, please … you’re hurting yourself, and we don’t even know why!”

Jihoon flinched when he heard Jisoo’s voice – the anger and desperation in his tone slapped the younger harshly, and he slowly made his way back to where the others were. He sunk down into the space between Wonwoo and Jun, letting Wonwoo tug him against his body and Jun rub calming circles into his thighs. No matter what, however, all Jihoon could think of was the three eldest members in the bathroom, their friendship precariously dangling in the wind, and Jihoon would absolutely hate to be around when the string finally cut.

 


 

 

The next day found Jihoon in a horrible mood, annoyed at everything – Seungkwan’s louder-than-normal chewing, Hansol’s humming, even Seokmin’s face had Jihoon’s blood boiling.

He knew why, though – Jeonghan was out that day, under the ruse that he “had really important errands, but it’s just a day off and he’ll be fine!”.

Jihoon knew he wouldn’t be fine – he probably would not be back until late, and he would probably not come back unscathed. Jeonghan had been called in a hurry that morning – his father knew that he had a day off for once, and whilst he didn’t want to unnecessarily summon his son, it was also imperative that Jeonghan be present for this event, an event that Jihoon needed not attend.

The Den had finally caught a rival’s leader, one notorious for harassment and being downright disgusting.

(They were all disgusting in this lifestyle, but at least the Den had standards, and some semblance of morals)

The gang members were interrogating him throughout the entire time he’d been held captive – almost two weeks now – but they couldn’t get through, so Jeonghan’s father called in Jeonghan.

Because Jeonghan had never walked into an interrogation and left without information.

(Jihoon had heard stories about what Jeonghan’s done to his victims. He’s too scared to ask Jeonghan himself)

“…-hoon? Jihoon?” Jihoon looked up to see Seungcheol standing in front of him, concern painted across his face. Seconds passed before Jihoon scowled at the older male, standing up and grabbing his bag.

“I’m going to the studio. I’ll be there all day,” was all he managed to bite out, between the roiling anger and drowning concern, as he shut the door behind him.

 

12:04am, and Jihoon is actively ignoring all Seungcheol and Jisoo’s calls.

He’s also ignoring Wonwoo, Jun and Soonyoung’s texts and calls, and the younger members’ frantic texts.

What he isn’t ignoring, however, is the bloodied blond propped up in front of him, wincing whenever Jihoon swiped the damp cloth over his wounds. Jihoon bit back any noise of disappointment he might’ve made as he cleaned Jeonghan’s cuts, tapping his hip every now and then to keep the other awake.

“C’mon, hyung – don’t go to sleep now. I need to get you back to the dorms,” Jihoon muttered, prompting a tired mumble from Jeonghan and a bitten curse when he accidentally prodded too deep at a knife wound. What did they do to you, hyung?

“He was … fighting back,” Jeonghan had said earlier, in between his grunts of pain and laboured breathing. “I got the-the information we n-needed, but not without … without pain.”

“But where did everything else come from?” Jihoon had asked, because no way could a hostage of two weeks inflict knife gashes on Jeonghan’s upper thighs.

Said male smirked, though it appeared as more of a grimace.

“Father felt that I was getting … complacent, bec-because I let myself get injured … so he made Yoonjun go at me in a ba-battle.”

 

An hour later, Jihoon had finally gotten Jeonghan up to the dorms. He made sure to check that everyone was asleep before he helped shuffle Jeonghan in, leaving him in the bathroom and ducking into his room to grab his ‘care kit’ from under his bed – a big box full of makeup to cover wounds, first-aid supplies and various bandages and plasters.

When he arrived back in the bathroom, however, Jihoon did not expect to see a fully-awake Chan gaping at a half-asleep, wounded Jeonghan.

Notes:

ive forgotten what joy this fic gives me

Notes:

hmu on twitter - @bbaehwink

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