Tit for Tat
Hooker!verse update! This one takes place before tiatza's "My Cup Runneth Over" and out_of_words24's "Rules" to provide background to the plot elements they've introduced and to develop Yesung's character a bit more. (He's ridiculously fun to write.) A good subtitle for this might be, "In which Yesung is a total badass, Sungmin is not Julia Roberts and Donghae is gratuitously abused." (I'm sorry, Donghae; I love you!) Beta by ouimonsieur.

Tit for Tat
pairing: Yesung/Sungmin, implied Hyukjae/Donghae

Yesung almost laughs when he opens the door to find Sungmin leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing worn, low-cut jeans and a threadbare cotton t-shirt and looking up at him with lidded eyes.

Yesung almost laughs, but decides that that would spoil the fun, so instead he frowns. "I told you to wear something nice."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sungmin says, looking not sorry at all and moving smoothly into the suite. "I just thought maybe you'd want me in something..." He pauses, brings his finger up to play as-if-absently across his lower lip. "...more comfortable."

Yesung deepens his frown. "What if I had asked you here to attend a party with me? What would you have done?"

Sungmin's eyes flash. "Hmm," he says, stepping forward and running his hands over Yesung's chest thoughtfully. "I'd have told you I don't have the red hair or the cunt to play Pretty Woman, but I do have a t-shirt that you can rip off of me and use to tie me up." He leans forward, lips almost touching Yesung's. "I think you'd forget about the gala."

Now Yesung does laugh, a harsh, deep laugh, and Sungmin doesn't miss a beat: his smile in response is lazy and wicked. "You're good. Are the rest of them all as good as you?" Yesung asks. Sungmin raises one eloquent eyebrow in response and Yesung laughs again. "I didn't think so. Here, sit down." He motions to the leather couch and starts towards the minibar. "What do you drink?"

"Nothing, when I'm on the job. Especially not with my boss," Sungmin says, lowering himself onto the couch with studied grace.

"So you did bother to read the whole card, then." Yesung smirks. "If you know I'm your new boss, then you must also know I have no intention of paying you. Why did you come?"

Sungmin's shrug is fluid, feline; his grin is equally catlike. "I've always wanted to get fucked in a penthouse suite."

Now it is Yesung's turn to raise an eyebrow. "And?"

Sungmin's eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly. "You know Kibum-ssi better than anyone else at the club. I'm...curious about him. I thought if you couldn't pay me in cash..."

"That I'd trade secrets for sex?" Yesung laughs again, and Sungmin's brow furrows. "I only barter in kind. Now if you had something useful to tell me..."

"Whores keep each other's secrets," Sungmin says severely, and Yesung is ready to be surprised and disappointed until he continues. "So we can put them to good use at times like this. I'll tell you whatever you want to know about the club."

"It's a deal, then," Yesung says, and starts walking towards the French doors in the back of the room. "Come out to the veranda with me. The view is spectacular, and I can show you how Kibum likes to be fucked while we talk."

***

"Hey, faggot! We saw you kiss your fairy boyfriend goodnight—does that mean you can play with us now?"

Donghae is wiry, strong, hardened from years on the streets before Eeteuk picked him up and brought him to the club, but he knows he has no chance against three men this big, knows there is no way he can make it back to Hyukjae's or to the subway station before they catch him, knows he is in trouble. He manages to keep his panic under control as he punches one in the gut and barrels past him, uses the burst of adrenaline to propel him down the street, rushing madly, legs pumping, heart racing...almost there...

And then one of them snags the collar of his shirt and it feels sickeningly as if everything has started to move in slow motion: he is falling, falling, down on the ground, and then the kicks start. A foot slams into his face before he has time to move his hands to protect it, and he feels the warm, sticky blood begin to ooze out of his nose as the blows rain down, catching him in the stomach, back, crotch. He almost laughs to think that he might die like this: he would never get to write that song, or fly on an airplane, or tell Hyukjae I love you and I need you and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

The thought is hilarious, horrifying, completely engrossing, and so he doesn't realize at first what the muffled gasp and the sound of a body hitting the ground next to him mean, doesn't understand why the blows have stopped and someone is helping him roughly to his feet, someone—

"Yesung-ssi?"

Yesung looks poised, ready for a business meeting in his tailored black suit, but the cold anger in his voice is almost as frightening as the three men had been earlier. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah, I think—"

"There's a car around the corner back the way you came. I want you to run, get in the car and wait for me." Donghae can do nothing but stare, mouth agape, and note absently how the blood trickles over his lip and drips down onto his tongue. "Now!" Yesung yells, and shoves him forward, and then he is running, hard. He looks back only once and sees the three men back on their feet and closing in on Yesung; he faces forward and runs faster and doesn't look back again even when he hears the gunshot.

He's not sure how long he waits, sleeve held to his nose to keep the blood from dripping onto the leather seats, before Yesung slips into the back seat next to him and says cooly, "Drive." He expects Yesung to say something to him, anything, but the man stares straight forward, hands folded calmly in his lap, and suddenly Donghae can't take it anymore.

"How? How did you—why were you there?"

Yesung turns his head slowly towards him. "I've been following you for a few days, Donghae. I was told that you're seeing someone outside of work and that it's affecting your performance, and I wanted to see for myself."

Donghae can feel his heart begin race again. "Who—" he begins to ask, but realizes the answer before he can finish the question. Sungmin. "Please, sir, please, it has nothing to do with my work—"

Yesung silences him with a curt movement of his head. "Listen, Donghae, I couldn't give a fuck what or who you do when you're not at the club. That's your time. And from what I can tell, your boyfriend isn't having any effect on your work—you were just a mediocre whore to begin with." Donghae thinks faintly that he should be offended, but he finds himself nodding dumbly in agreement. "So you do whatever you want with your boyfriend, ok? On your time."

Suddenly Yesung's face is close to his and his eyes are narrowed to slits. "But if you ever sneak him into the club on my time again, what those shits did to you tonight will seem like a fucking carnival ride. And you'd better think long and hard the next time you want to be lovey-dovey in the park around a bunch of young hoods, because if someone ruins that pretty little face of yours for good I'll kick your ass out onto the streets so fast you won't know what hit you. Understood?"

"Y-yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Yesung smiles for the first time that night and it makes Donghae shiver. "You're welcome, Donghae. Remember, I'm on your side; I'm a businessman, and any good businessman can tell you how important it is to take care of the merchandise. Driver," he says abruptly, "call the nurse and have her come to my suite." Then a real smile blooms on his face, and Donghae thinks that it's the most frightening things he's seen the whole night. "Oh, and call that henna tattoo artist, too; Donghae here is going to help me teach one of his coworkers a lesson."