Chapter Text
Jisung, 27th May
Dinner was a rowdy affair. With Chan having finally left the confines of his office, even Hyunjin had come to join them.
Minho was making bibimbap with Felix at his side. Jisung and Hyunjin hovered nearby, doing their best to be helpful, though mostly they were just in the way. Hyunjin always seemed more at ease when Felix was around. Or at least more willing to make the effort.
Jisung had chosen the kitchen to stay close to Minho, though he wouldn’t admit that out loud, but also to stay far away from Jeongin and Seungmin. The two of them might have fooled the rest of the house, but Jisung had taken one look and known they had finally confessed. And while he was genuinely happy for them, he didn’t need to watch his little brother send heart eyes across the table every five seconds.
Jisung could forgive Chan for not noticing, given he’d locked himself in his office for days, he could even forgive Hyunjin who avoided eye contact as a habit… but how Felix hadn’t clocked it yet he didn’t know. Especially since Felix had whispered to Jisung on more than one occasion what a cute couple the two would make. Jisung couldn’t wait to see Felix’s face when it finally clicked.
“Can you take these to the table, please?” Minho asked, voice carefully neutral as he passed bowls to Hyunjin. Felix gave Hyunjin a small nod of encouragement. He took the bowls with only a little hesitation and ferried them to the table. Jisung followed with drinks, settling in after a few trips.
Minho and Felix finally joined the table, bringing condiments.
“This looks delicious, thank you hyung!” Jeongin chirped, immediately beginning to mix his bowl with vigour, almost knocking it over in his enthusiasm. Seungmin snorted, and squeezed Jeongin’s thigh. God they were adorable, Jisung wasn’t at all jealous of that casual affection, not even a little bit.
“Yes, thank you Minho.” Chan echoed with a tired but warm smile.
“Finally getting some real food in you,” Felix muttered with a roll of his eyes, though the affection was clear. Jisung snorted, Felix had never seen Chan like this before, he realised. His single minded determination was almost impossible to break, you just had to weather the storm.
Conversation splintered, Felix, Changbin and Hyunjin discussing Felix’s healing and physiotherapy regime, Chan was pretending to focus on eating but was obviously listening intently. Seungmin and Jeongin were predictably in their own world once again, talking quietly and quickly about types of ciphers which went straight over Jisung’s head. This left Jisung and Minho, what a shame.
“Are we good to head out after this?” Minho asked, eating slowly as he looked around the table carefully, making sure everyone was enjoying his food.
“That’s fine, I’ll need to get changed first.” Jisung replied. Another stakeout. He’d stopped complaining, Chan knew why and was taking full advantage while it lasted.
“Wear something pretty.” Minho leant in, murmuring in his ear. Jisung closed his eyes, keeping his breathing slow and even as he enjoyed the moment of warm breath ghosting his face.
“I’m prettiest in nothing at all,” Jisung replied, just loud enough for Minho to hear. He grinned when Minho flushed pink.
He leant in, fixing the collar on Minho’s shirt, smoothing it down with his fingers and allowing them to caress along his neck teasingly. Minho’s hands clenched around his chopsticks, food forgotten. Jisung turned back to his food, smug.
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When Jisung returned to the kitchen, Minho was back at the table, hunched over a stack of folders, brows furrowed in concentration. Jisung appeared behind him, leaning down to read over his shoulder. Notes, names, familiar faces.
A few of their ex intel and security members who were supposed to be long gone were still in the city.
Jisung narrowed his eyes, he wanted to know why.
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The car rumbled as they crept along the side street, headlights off, just tailing distance behind the black SUV they’d been following for the last twenty minutes. The three occupants inside none the wiser to their shadow.
Minho drove with one hand on the wheel and the other casually resting on the gearstick, eyes forward, calm. Jisung lounged back with a lollipop sticking out the corner of his mouth, watching the rear of the SUV like a hawk.
“You know,” Jisung said, voice warm, “if you wanted to take me out for a romantic drive, you could’ve just asked.”
Minho didn’t take his eyes off the road. “What can I say? I’ve got fond memories of you in this car.”
“God, stop, you’ll make me blush,” Jisung drawled. He tapped his boot gently against the door. “Do you think they’re actually dumb enough to lead us straight to whatever rat’s nest they’ve built?”
“I mean,” Minho murmured, “they’re ex-security. Just smart enough to be dangerous. Not smart enough to be quiet about it.”
Jisung’s smile thinned. “Two of them are names that Felix… mentioned.”
Minho’s jaw flexed, his fingers tight on the steering wheel.
The SUV turned onto a quieter road, slowing, before slipping into the back lot of a grimy bar. Four figures emerged from the side alley. One of them leaned into the SUV’s window. Jisung made an aborted gasp, then fumbled to begin taking photos.
Minho leaned forward slightly. “Do you recognise them?”
“Yes.” Jisung’s fingers drummed on the dash, “And I don’t like what I’m seeing. Some of them are current members. That’s Sang-wook, he does runner jobs for ops. And the tall one’s Gyu-tae, he’s in security. The other two…” He trailed off squinting. “Oh, they’re ex intel, I recognise them.”
They watched in tense silence as the ex security members exited the car and the groups clustered together. Ex-members and current, exchanging low conversations, a bag, and what looked like a set of documents. Jisung snapped photo after photo, irritation rising in him.
Minho’s voice was tight. “None of these guys are in leadership, right?”
“No, all low level, that’s a relief I suppose.” Jisung said. “But I saw Do-wan talking to Sang-wook last week.”
“You don’t think he’s in on this?” Minho asked, turning to look at Jisung properly, disbelief clear in his voice.
Jisung hesitated. “I don’t want to, I’ve always liked Do-wan... But I need to be sure.”
The group split, Sang-wook and Gyu-tae climbing into the car alongside 1 ex security member and 1 ex intel. The others headed into the bar. The car began to move, heading south toward the docks. Minho turned the ignition gently and slipped into gear.
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The docks were quiet in the evening light, the hum of cranes and distant machinery providing background noise to their growing unease.
They watched from a distance as the group exited the SUV, heading toward one of the admin buildings. A balding dock worker in a reflective vest was waiting outside, clipboard in hand. After a brief conversation, he handed it over and began pointing toward a cargo container freshly unloaded from a barge. The paperwork was checked over and signed by the group who then made a swift exit back to their car.
“Alright,” Jisung muttered. “Let’s go be the big bad wolf.”
Minho gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you going to terrify this poor man?”
“I’m in a mood, Minho.” Jisung bit, noticing how Minho’s eyes flared, his breathing sped up. Jisung catalogued that reaction for further analysis later.
They approached confidently, Jisung leading with Minho following like he was the muscle. The dock worker glanced up, annoyed at first, until he recognised Jisung, and his eyes widened.
“S-Sir,” he said quickly. “Didn’t realise, uh, I didn’t know this shipment needed higher clearance.” He bowed reverentially.
“Mm,” Jisung hummed, folding his arms and tilting his head with practiced disdain. “Just doing a spot audit. Paperwork, please.”
The dock worker practically shoved the clipboard at him, hands shaking slightly.
Jisung took it smoothly and began flipping through it with the air of someone who did this regularly. Minho stood beside him, leant against the wall with his arms crossed, looking very sexy. Still, Jisung couldn’t afford to be distracted, he read through the papers quickly.
Internally, his heart rate ticked up.
He didn’t know anything about this shipment.
The manifest claimed it was Fang property, marked clearly in their code, but the contents were vague: sealed crates, tagged under miscellaneous equipment. Worse, the destination listed wasn’t one of their active warehouses. It was an old site, long abandoned. One they hadn’t used in years.
Jisung’s fingers tapped the edge of the clipboard as he kept his expression flat.
“Everything looks in order,” he lied smoothly, handing the clipboard back. “Thank you. You’ve been helpful.”
The dock worker nodded quickly, eager to be forgotten. Minho didn’t say a word until they were halfway back to the car.
“Well?”
“It’s ours,” Jisung said, swinging the passenger door open. “But not ours. Marked as Fangs, going to a warehouse we haven’t touched for, what, three years. I’ve not seen this order come through, I’m texting Chan to check.”
They climbed back into the car, silence thick between them for a moment. Jisung’s phone pinged, confirming his suspicion that the shipment was not in their files.
Then Jisung blew out a breath and muttered, “What are they playing at? Impersonating us is a dangerous game.”
Minho pulled away from the docks, eyes flicking to the rearview.
“We need a plan.”
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The thud of Jisung’s boots on the stairs echoed like warning shots, drawing out the night owls one by one. Chan was first, emerging from his office with dark circles under his eyes. Seungmin and Jeongin appeared a beat later from the security room. Hyunjin opened his bedroom door sharply, suspicion already flickering in his eyes before he’d fully stepped into the hall.
Jisung kicked his boots off at the threshold of the apartment, jaw tight, a storm brewing behind his eyes. Minho trailed behind him, quieter but no less tense.
Changbin joined them last, slipping out of the bedroom and pulling the door shut softly behind him, hiding the split second view of Felix already fast asleep. He raised a brow as he took in Jisung’s expression.
“Kitchen?” Chan asked, voice low.
Jisung nodded once, and they all filed in, settling into their usual seats. Jeongin ducked out momentarily and returned with his laptop, settling in beside Seungmin.
Changbin was the first to break the silence, eyeing Jisung like he was a bomb about to go off. “What happened?”
Jisung pulled the SD card from his pocket and slid it across the table to Jeongin. “We confirmed some of the ex-members are still active in the city. They’ve grouped up. Tonight, they met with two current Fangs: Sang-wook and Gyu-tae.”
Hyunjin frowned. “Who?”
“Low-level ops and security,” Chan answered before Jisung could. “Neither of them’s close to the top.”
“There were seven of them tonight,” Jisung continued. “Three ex-security, two ex-intel, and those two. Could be more, but that’s what we saw.”
“That doesn’t seem like enough to have you stomping through the house like someone pissed in your cereal.” Hyunjin said, eyes narrowing slightly.
Minho jumped in. “We followed them to the docks. They signed for a shipment. When they left Jisung audited the paperwork and scared the shit out of the dock worker.”
Jeongin snorted. “Classic.”
Jisung leaned forward, elbows on the table. “The manifest said the shipment was for the Fangs. But I’ve never seen the order before. It was marked as miscellaneous equipment and was being rerouted to the old Mullae-dong warehouse.”
Chan’s brow furrowed. “That place hasn’t been used in years.”
“Exactly,” Jisung said. “And the order didn’t come from us. Which means someone’s moving product in our name without our knowledge.”
“Might tie in with the supply route attacks,” Minho added. “Sang-wook and Gyu-tae both get assigned supply runs.”
“So it’s possible the stolen goods are being funnelled into that warehouse, as well as whatever is in that container.” Changbin muttered, rubbing at his temple.
Chan nodded slowly. “We’ll assign them to the dummy routes, so we don’t tip them off. I’ll loop in Do-won and Sang-hoon.”
Jisung’s gaze snapped up. “Are we confident in Do-won? I saw him talking to Sang-wook last week, could be nothing but…”
Chan went quiet, processing. “He’s done nothing suspicious up until now. But… we’ll test him. I’ll give him this info, see what he does with it. Jeongin?”
“I’ll monitor him. I’ve already got eyes on the warehouse,” Jeongin said, tapping his keyboard. He spun the laptop around to show a grainy black-and-white feed of the exterior. “We don’t post guards there anymore, but someone’s patrolling it.”
On the screen, two men moved slowly along the perimeter, casual enough to avoid suspicion, but alert enough that they weren’t just loitering.
“So the question is… why?” Changbin said.
“Could be a few reasons, they could be scamming us, we need to check if we’re paying for these shipments and we just haven’t noticed them not materialising due to the changeover, maybe they’re hoping no one will notice.” Jeongin offered, deep in thought.
“Or trying to sabotage the gang after being booted,” Hyunjin said. He was still watching the footage, arms folded tightly across his chest.
“I think,” Jisung said bitterly, “they’re building something of their own with our resources.”
Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Chan muttered, “I want into that warehouse.”
“Let’s not go kicking down doors just yet,” Minho cautioned. “If we spook them, they’ll scatter. We’ve got cameras in place, let’s use them. Get an idea of what we’re up against before we act.”
Jisung sighed and leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand through his hair. “Feels like it’s always ten steps behind lately.”
Chan’s eyes were sharp as he looked around the table. “Then it’s time we caught up.”