𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

Seungmin's situation is a bit peculiar.

In actuality, he's always had a strong mental. He knows the worst pain is in fact not physical, that the most unbearable strain is internal, maybe that's why he was able to fall for Minho so quickly, after being in such a bad situation for such a long time.

Then again, maybe it's just Minho. Minho who boxes, but never shows an ounce of non playful aggression when Seungmin is around.

Minho is secure in his manhood, and doesn't slap Seungmin for teasing, or just having a personality in general.

Minho who ice's Seungmin's bruises, and has refrained from busting into Yonsu's apartment to kick his ass or kill him, only because Seungmin begged him not to.

Minho who is a tsundere, someone who's deeply emotional, but hides it cause he's so accustomed to keeping a scary stone face on for looks and appearances.

Despite the fact that his ears turn red at the drop of a hat.

What had originally attracted Seungmin towards Yonsu was his confidence, and his build. Seungmin has always been a slut for a brick wall that stood like it owned the ground it walked on. At some point, too late of a point, he realized it wasn't confidence that Yonsu ate, slept and breathed. It was superiority, and arrogance.

Not attractive, but loud and artificial enough for Seungmin to mistake it for what he was looking for at the time. Or rather, what he could accept that had been looking for him. Yonsu is much older than Seungmin, like Minho. But his success was built off the back of his family, and how far up his ass they shoved a golden shovel.

Minho's confidence was just that. Real, authentic, confidence. And it was built because he worked for it. For years. He won cases, he studied, he worked extra hours and committed to his cases and their victims. The cool air he's got was built, not bought. It was raw and real, only because it was earned instead of being handed to him.

He traces the signs of maturity and life on Minho's face, the outlined eyes, the skin texture, the smile lines. He ages so gracefully and with such attraction, like wine. Seungmin doesn't care much for the drama around age gaps, not as long as both parties are consenting adults, it's the same for him and Minho.

It's no secret Seungmin is into older guys, ones who have got their life figured out and move through their days with knowledge and grace, he always has. That's been his type for a long time. But Yonsu's maturity wasn't growth or wisdom, it was just age. And Seungmin, much to his own dismay, had to learn that the hard way.

That night, when Yonsu walks through the door, he smells of that omegan women he sees regularly. Seungmin has long learned not to take Yonsu's issues personally, because he knows the other is just a fucking bastard at heart. But it still makes his blood boil.

What exactly? Well, the conclusion that Yonsu is simply just stingy.

He goes out, sleeps with who he wants to, never a thought of consideration for the omega at his home waiting for him, cooking for him, running his baths and changing his sheets.

But he won't let Seungmin leave. Then he comes back to their apartment and kicks off his shoes, wasting no time pressing the omega down onto the nearest surface, like he hasn't just been with someone else.

The worst thing about this? He has no idea if he wraps it up when he fucks other people. The second worst thing about this? Seungmin only realizes he and Minho didn't use protection when Yonsu returns home a night later, dragging Seungmin across the space by his ankles where he was reading on a blanket pallet on the floor, lube in hand.

He wants to object, but he knows that won't end well for him.

"Wait–" he says anyway. "I– I don't think we should–"

"Shut up, Min. Come on. It's not that serious. You always do this. Just lay down and relax."

"Yonsu– fuck– stop it!--"

Yonsu quiets Seungmin with a hard slap across his delicate skin. It stings like a bitch, throbs a bunch too. A solid strike to his jaw then, but it's not unfamiliar. Still, Seungmin whimpers as he's struck, looking up where Yonsu sits over him, tears already in his eyes.

Yonsu slams his head down into the floor, hand clamped tightly around his mouth to shut him down. "Dammit, Min! Just shut the hell up, will you? Open your fucking legs!" Yonsu rips his skirt from his hips in haste, Seungmin mourns yet another article of clothing he held dear, as well as the few weeks he had to himself where his face and or head had no type of injury.

Seungmin lays there, legs spread as tears roll down his face. He tries to imagine that it's Minho who is inside of him, make this a little less painful, though he's usually able to hold it together. But Minho would never be so rough with him, so cruel. Not unless he asked. Even then, Minho would treat Seungmin like he's tender. Like he always does. Not to mention, Minho is way bigger.

Seungmin's night ends like that, with the omega miserable and trembling beneath Yonsu. When the alpha finishes, finally falling asleep, Seungmin sits on the terrace, aching, wishing Minho hadn't taken the night shift.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

Seungmin is fine.

Omegan slick has properties. Many properties.

Among those properties are healing, lubrication, and good bacteria. The type that keeps a woman's vaginal pocket clean.

Science says omegan slick was made with such abilities to help with flushing out bad bacteria, as well as waste and to make reproduction easier. Much like the characters of a woman's sexual organ. Some omegas say it's true, a quality given to men to make life easier, others say it's an excuse for omegas to be whores.

In reality, there is no one answer. We are all just trying our best to be okay at this thing called life that we were thrown into without permission. Some things will work against you and some things will work with you, but what matters is you move forward.

But even so, it doesn't change the fact that omegas were born with a naturally materializing, sexual, scented, cleansing, antioxidant, liquid in their body.

So yes, Seungmin is okay. Because his slick will naturally push any rectum infections or STD'S out of his body.

But someone else, say, an alpha who doesn't get his omega wet, and has sex with multiple people without protection, would catch the sexually transmitted disease after the omega's body has flushed it out. Even if the other person the omega had slept with was perfectly healthy, due to the omegas produced slick during intercourse.

If the omega lacked that with the second partner.. Well, pray for the partners health, and tell them to go see a doctor immediately.

Seungmin sighs, closing the tab on his ipad and clearing his history. The internet is against him today, telling him exactly what he doesnt want to hear but already knows.

The worst part about being smart? You're right even when you don't want to be.

Of course Seungmin knows it's more than likely that Yonsu will catch something from him after he and Minho.. dabbled in some intercourse together. But he hopes for both their sakes that Yonsu is healthy as a horse, simply so he doesn't have to deal with his bitching.

Everything is fine for a few days, and Seungmin lives in relative peace when Yonsu is out, sleeping around or at work. He begins to think that maybe, there is a possibility that Yonsu has a great body system, or that they got lucky. It's hard for him to feel at peace though. Because silence with Yonsu always feels more like a buildup than a break. Like the quiet before the storm.

There was one of their more rare occasions about 2 years ago, when Seungmin was still constantly plotting his escape and desperately trying to contact the friends he'd been forced to cut off after moving into Yonsu's apartment.

He'd tried to contact his friend Felix and Jisungwho Yonsu told him never to see again. Jeongin had always been warm and caring, beautiful and clingy. Seungmin found comfort in his presence and his company. But Yonsu hated that. One day, Seungmin tries to sign out of the email account Yonsu had set up for him in order to keep an eye on his media. He thought he was successful before the older man walked through the front door, home early for once that night, cracking a wine bottle over his head and knocking him unconscious. Suengmin had woken up in the hospital days later, body trembling like a vibrator and head throbbing where there were bandages wrapped around him. He tried telling the nurses of his situation, using the hospital phones to call the police, but it was all met with resistance. Yonsu was a lawyer, with connections and money. So a phone call was all it took to get the whole hospital to ignore him, neglecting his concerns and sending him home with an abuser despite his best efforts. Before that happened, Seungmin had been quiet for hours in times when he would usually be telling Seungmin about his work day.

Like he already knew Seungmin was going to try something.

That concussion has been one of the worst injuries Yonsu had ever given him, one of many but definitely top 5. When they'd gotten home, Yonsu pulled Seungmin close to his chest while they were in bed and whispered in his ear.

"If you ever try to walk away from me again, you'd be good as dead to me already, darling. So you'd just be giving me an reasob to make sure you're dead to the rest of the world too."

Seungmin couldn't stop shaking. Not visibly—not enough for Yonsu to notice—but his insides trembled like the ground beneath a fault line. Like something underneath him was shifting, preparing to crack open.

For his own safety, his own survival, he gave up on trying to get away from Yonsu. But even that wasn't enough too satisfy the man. The thing about abusers is that their greedy, they want and want and want, so they take. They take, and they could never be truly satisfied, because their selfish.

Yonsu had been... quiet lately. Not kind. Not soft. Just quiet in that dangerous way predators are before they jump on you, and rip your throat out. There was something tense in the way he moves around the apartment now. Like his eyes were looking through Seungmin instead of at him.

Like the silence wasn't peace—it was pressure. The quiet before the collapse. The low tide, the silence before the tsunami.

It was almost like Yonsu could still feel Minho on him before he felt his body signal that something was wrong. Not just the weight or the way his boyfriends skin still carried faint echoes of the detective's warmth. But the difference with Seungmin himself, the memory of being wanted—not used.

That contrast, that unbearable difference, was a stain Seungmin couldn't scrub away, even with Yonsu's hands all over him. He'd tried to be still. To let it happen. But Yonsu knew something was different.

He always did.

And that terrified Seungmin more than the bruises ever could.

Yonsu hadn't said anything yet.. Not about Seungmin sneaking out, his longer periods of time out of the house, the scent that wasn't his. But the silence felt like a held breath. Suffocating and fear inducing.

Seungmin knew that when it snapped, it wouldn't just scratch—it would slice.

He felt it in the way Yonsu stared at him too long in the mirror. In the way his fingers gripped the counter when Seungmin passed. In the way he pressed their bodies together in bed, more possession than affection, and whispered nothing.

This wasn't stillness.This was loading a gun.

And Seungmin knew—he was already in the line of fire.

Things get serious when Yonsu wakes up the next morning.

Seungmin hurriedly backs away from the hot stove eye when he hears aggressive steps approaching him from behind, bracing himself for impact.He's spun around by his shoulders, slammed against the refrigerator with a hard grip on his throat that Seungmin is less than fond of.

His heart drops into his ass when he basically reads the words 'I KNOW WHAT YOU DID' in bold red letters on his boyfriend's forehead. And just from his expression, Seungmin knows he's been caught.

"You stupid, condescending little skank!" He yells, loudly, spitting in Seungmins face. In all honestly, the omegas only concern is surviving the choke slam he has him in, feet barely touching the ground with how secure the man's hand is around his throat.

"Who was it? You fuckin' slut. I bet it was that dickhead down the hall huh? With the trench coat and the tattoos?"With his lack of oxygen, Seungmin doesn't even have the time to come up with a lie, or deflect, or think. He just has to take it.

"Or did you somehow get back in contact with that blonde little loser from college? What'd I tell you? Hm??" Yonsu is angry, pressing his flaring nostrils to Seungmins earlobe as he breathes heavily onto his skin, like he's the one being choked.

Seungmin thrashes, scratching at the alpha's arm at the mention of Minho and Felix, who the hell was Yonsu to talk about his boys? The son of a bitch fucks Seungmin every week and hasn't managed to get him hard for 3 years.

The older man hisses, flinching back at the sting and pulling his hand away from the omegas neck. Seungmin drops to his knees, coughing and choking, attempting to wipe his eyes and catch his breath. But even through his lightheadedness and lack of air. For the first time in years, he speaks back.

"Leave... leave them out of this." he chokes, Yonsu surveys the scratches on his arm, turning to give Seungmin a constipated look where he sits on the floor. Like he can't believe his ears, or the pain he's feeling.

In all honesty? Seungmin couldn't either. Usually he would just bear with it until it's over, but Yonsu's talking about Seungmin's family, two out of the handful of people who have ever cared about him, makes Seungmin angry. A poisonous and harsh feeling.

But even with his own sudden bout of fight, Seungmin can see the genuine danger stirring in Yonsu's gaze, it's terrifying, and horrid. It puts a bad taste in Seungmin's mouth, clearly he isn't the only one fuming like a bath tub of electrical wires. His omega is screaming at him to 'GETOUTGETOUTGETOUT' and he knows he needs to run. His fight or flight or making a comeback, and truly, there couldn't be a better time.

Seungmin flinches, yelping as Yonsu reaches for him, snatching him by his thin arms, swinging him across the kitchen till he flies over the counter, knocking everything on it onto the floor along with the omegas weight.The older man quickly rounds the counter, kicking the scattered material around him away so he can climb on top of the smaller male, turning him from where he's groaning from the feeling of impact with the floor.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU UNGRATEFUL MOTHER FUCKER. I'LL END YOU. YOUR NOTHING WITHOUT ME AND YOU AIN'T WORTH ENOUGH OF ANYTHING FOR YOU TO BE DISREPECTING ME LIKE THIS."

Yonsu punches him straight in his face, Seungmin feels something rupture beneath his skin, and it's not long before he can feel blood trickling down his face. Usually, Yonsu avoids direct hits to the face, as to not damage his complexion or accidentally give the omega brain damage.

But he isn't sparing such thought as of right now.Dammit, he doesn't care about the damage he does, he just wants Seungmin to hurt, he wants Seungmin to cry, he wants Seungmin to suffer, and the only other thing on his mind is his releasing his rage somewhere that it can't be turned back on him. But he's about to fuck around and find out.

"YOUR A USELESS OMEGA, YOUR A USELESS HUMAN, AND NOBODY WILL EVER CARE ABOUT YOU LIKE I DO. YOU AIN'T WORTH WHATEVER IT IS I'VE CAUGHT BY STAYING WITH YOU."

He grabs Seungmin by his throat, both hands enclosed around his neck, cutting off his airway and squeezing like he's trying to juice him. Like he has a right to Seungmin's lifeline, like he's less than deserving of a right to live.

"YOU, YOU AIN'T WORTH NOBODY'S TIME, MIN. YOUR ALWAYS GOING TO BE A USELESS, DEFENSELESS OMEGAN BITCH. YOU AREN'T AND CAN'T BE MORE THAN THAT."

Sometimes, Seungmin thinks as Yonsu's sweaty face starts to fade out, he believes maybe he really isn't. Maybe he's right. Nobody cares about him, if they did, why hadn't they saved him from such a situation yet? Why had he been suffering for so long, over and over again, a repeated cycle that has become his everyday life?

Yonsu isn't going to stop. This is it, the moment he'd been so afraid of. He can't breathe, he can't do anything about it. Maybe the world would be a better place without him in it, maybe everything would be a bit easier had Seungmin just welcomed death. Maybe.

But..

"You choose when your ready to stop being a victim."

But, that's wrong, right?

"He has nothing on you that you don't let him have."

Seungmin blinks, heaving desperately through the fog building from his lack of air.

"Seungminnie, your gonna be okay."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm gonna teach you how to be, pretty. Your gonna use that big brain of yours to help you beat this."

A flashback.. Now? Maybe this is his life flashing before his eyes, who knows?Seungmin grips, scratching at Yonsu's arms as words echo in his head, loud and bold when he needs them the most.

The living room was cleared, couch pushed back, coffee table moved. The evening light spilled over the cool floor in long, soft lines, catching the dust in the air like gold. But despite the calm, Seungmin felt a tightness in his chest—because the reason for all this open space wasn't peace. It was preparation.

Minho stood across from him, sleeves rolled up, posture relaxed but focused. With those arms on display, Seungmin couldn't say the same. "If someone larger has you pinned, your weight won't matter. What matters is pain and surprise. You need to give yourself an opening."

Seungmin nodded silently, watching the way Minho moved—precise, slow, careful with him. As if even the idea of force on Seungmin's skin had to be approached with gentleness.

"You remember the pressure points?"

"Neck, eyes, groin, knees." Seungmin recited them like a mantra, soft but sure.

"Good. And if you can't reach those—go for the nose or the throat. Doesn't take much to disrupt someone if they're not expecting it." Minho stepped closer. "Now. Let's try the wrist break again."

Seungmin held his arm out, and Minho wrapped a loose grip around his wrist. "Twist and pull toward the thumb," Minho coached. "Don't hesitate. Hesitation gets you pinned again."

Seungmin twisted quickly and yanked. The grip broke. He stumbled a little in the movement, but Minho only smiled gently. "Better. Don't worry about it being pretty—just effective."

They repeated the motion a few more times until Seungmin's muscles began to remember it, the motion becoming more instinct than thought.

Then Minho asked, voice quieter, "What are you most afraid of happening if he catches you?"

Seungmin froze. For a second, he couldn't look at Minho. He stared at the floor instead, the memory of Yonsu's breath at his neck still raw in his mind.

"That he won't let go," Seungmin said finally. "That... I'll freeze again. And he'll know I'm helpless. He likes that."

Minho's jaw hardened. Not with anger toward Seungmin—but something colder. Sharper. The kind of look detectives wore when they'd seen too much and decided they wouldn't let it happen again. Not on their watch.

"Then we'll make sure you don't freeze."

Minho stepped closer. "Let's go over how to use your legs. You're not stronger. But if you aim right, you don't have to be."

They trained for another hour—Seungmin barefoot on the cool floor, panting quietly through the effort, Minho coaching him with a calm certainty that made all this feel real, a possible lifeline.

And somewhere inside, Seungmin tucked the knowledge away. Stored it in the scarred parts of him, the parts that refused to die quietly.

He didn't know when he'd use it. But he knew there would be a when.

Seungmin's moments from full unconsciousness when he puts all of his remaining strength into his leg, which is beneath where Yonsu is squatting on top of him, and brings it up hard and fast, straight into his dick and ball sack.

The alphas hollers, stiffening as his whole body locks up. His flexing is disrupted, so he stops squeezing. The intake of air Seungmin scratches from the bit of space in his throat is just enough for him to flex his hands, before throwing them over Yonsu's biceps and grabbing his head, gripping as he digs his finger nails straight into the older males eyeballs.

Yonsu screams, it takes a moment, but he finally lets go of Seungmins throat, reaching up to instead grab his wrists in his huge hands. The sheer size of Yonsu's hands, his arms, his height, everything but his dick intimidated Seungmin. But thanks to a certain, professionally trained detective, he's had some practice going against greater strength.

People like to underestimate smaller men, but Seungmin has long since discovered that Minho, 5'7 or otherwise, is a powerful individual. Years of taekwondo, combat training, mma, boxing, police training, gym visits and muscle training have made him near unstoppable. So when he'd forced Seungmin into building in some sort of defense, the omega didn't fret one bit, even if he was unsure it would work.

But now, as Seungmin breaks Yonsu's hold on his wrists, it all kicks in when the omega is trapped under Yonsu's weight. His hand shoots up in a panic, striking the soft underside of Yonsu's chin with the heel of his palm. It's clumsy, but enough to make the bigger man jerk backward—and that one second is all he needs.

Seungmin crawls from beneath him, ready to rush through the kitchen. But he must have been loud, because Yonsu grabs his foot, tripping him up. Seungmin catches himself on his hands as he's dragged back, not giving in even as Yonsu tries to pin him with his weight again.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH, GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK OVER HERE."Seungmin's in for it now, but he refuses to die here. He won't sit down and let himself be killed for the sake of some bastards petty ego.

"DAMMIT, LET GO." he thrashes as he's pulled deeper into the apartment, kicking and screaming like a maniac. He'll be that if he has to, but he's going to get the fuck out of here.

"WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINKING YOUR GOING, HUH? NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU LIKE I DO, YOU SELFISH, BROKEN DOLL. YOU COULDN'T EVEN BE A PROPER HOUSEWIFE.""Shut the fuck up!!" Seungmin hollers back like he never has. His voice is so much quieter in comparison, so much lighter. Omegan, if you will. Like a singer vs a rapper.

He doesn't care. Bigger, scarier, louder, what the fuck ever. He matters too. His free will, his heart, his mind, his spirit. He won't be a victim all his life. When he forgot that, because Yonsu was shading him from his experiences, Minho reminded him.

Minho.Minho.MinhoMinhoMinho.

"You're not broken. He could never break you. You're still here. And you can beat this as long as you keep fighting. You decide when to stop being the victim, and part of that is to not let him make you feel worthless. You are worth something, more than that dick could ever be."

That's right. Seungmin is more than a broken doll, forced into submission, forced into being a demure, obedient omega

"Jab hits are more effective if you're trying to get away. Disorient him, do whatever you can to give yourself enough time to get away, only if you're sure you can win a foot race. If you're trying to win and settle, or can't create distance, knock them out."

Suengmin rolls over, snatching one of his legs out of Yonsu's grasp, and shoving it back at his face, kicking him right in his nose, hard and fast before he pulls his legs back and climbs to his feet, scurrying into the kitchen.

"Don't underestimate your surroundings. If you can't throw a punch or overpower them, use what resources you've got. If it's a stronger opponent, you have to really hurt them, because they have more endurance, so they can take more. Do what you have to. Times like this aren't moments to be considerate, this is about survival, Seungmo. And survive you will."

And he sure as hell was. He grabs the pot of sizzling soup he had been working on for Yonsu's lunch, not thinking twice as he turns where the alpha is trying to get up, throwing it right on him.

The alpha screams, reeling at the burning sensation of Seungmin's profound smelling concoction. What a waste, honestly, but at least it went to a good cause.Seungmin watches, a feeling of fulfillment coiling inside of him while he watches the man suffer.

He has to give it to the alpha, he's one hell of a fighter, cause even with his skin sizzling, his eyes pressed in, his dick pained, he crawls across the floor, clabbering to his feet as he yells in anger, reaching for the omega, using the counters and wall as railing.

Seungmin stumbles back, darting across the large apartment to the front door. He fumbles with the locks with trembling hands, never more irritated at the slowly unlocking apartment buildings doors than he is right now.

Yonsu's got one eye open, though red and covered with cooling broth, apparently it works just fine, because he's halfway across the space by time Seungmin finally gets the door open, throwing it back carelessly before he sprints into the hall, nearly falling again as he speeds down the way towards Minho's door.

He yells, careless of the building's other occupants and their complaints as he bangs on Minho's door, yelling his name, praying the older man is home. He can't remember what day it is, and with his finger covered in blood he can't get the code in, so all he can do is pray the man is inside. He promised that when Seungmin needed him, he would be there.

Seungmin's yelling only becomes louder when he sees Yonsu exit the apartment, looking like some kind of disastrous culinary walker from the walking dead as he approaches the man, more than pissed off.

"SEUNGMIN."

The omegas heart drops into his ass as he gets closer. He's going to get him. He's going to grab him and drag him back into that apartment like some traumatizing nightmare. This is it, Seungmin thinks, he's going to die a pitiful house wife who never made anything of himself.

But finally, finally, the door falls open, Seungmin with it, with the way he was pressed against it. Minho catches him as he tumbles inside, dropping down to hold him against his chest, setting him securely on the floor.

He's confused only for a second, his demeanor changing in a moments notice when he sees the omegas state—his bloody nose, his look of disarray, before he leaves Seungmin's support to spring into action. On the tray next to his door are his gun, badge, and handcuffs. He grabs the cuffs after kissing Seungmins forehead, whispering reassurance to him, before he darts back into the hallway, just as Yonsu comes into view of the doorway.

It happens so fast, Yonsu trying to push past smaller Minho, who quickly shows him he's not someone to be walked over. He punches Yonsu right in his face, then his stomach, knocking the wind out of him so he crouches over, right where Minho can shove a knee in his nose and grab the bigger alpha by the nap of his neck and behind of his biceps, kicking in his legs so he falls to his knees. Without further a do, he shoves his knees into the man's neck, one hand on his neck and the other in his spine as he cuffs his hands. While Yonsu is hollering, yelling, screaming, wringling pinned beneath Minho, the detective reads him his rights.

"Choi Yonsu. You're under arrest for the rape, and aggravated and domestic assault of Kim Seungmin, as well as accounts for offenses following sexual abuse. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Yonsu growls as Minho deliberately puts the cuffs on too tightly, shoving his head into the ground as he looks from his spot on top of the man over to Seungmin.

The omega in question stares with a heaving chest and wide eyes at Minho, who gives him a proud, approving nod as pulls his cell out of his pocket, phoning the precinct.

"Seungmo. You did good." he says. Dori and Soonie come over to Seungmin meowing concerningly at his frazzled complexion, Doongi probably somewhere napping.

In Minho's apartment, secure, in a place where someone cares for him, and means it when he says he's going to protect him; Seungmin sighs into a sob, guard dropping as his fight or flight switches off, letting him breath, finally.

Minho presses a tissue to his nose, hand gently holding the back of his head while he tells Seungmin to explain what happened. Yonsu watches, gaze full of silent rage as he takes in the way the pair intertwine and touch so naturally.

He knows then that he wasn't the only one fulfilling his desire for something–or– someone, else. Seungmin can't find it in himself to care about the males negative, piercing gaze, not when Minho touches him, talks to him, holds him, so tenderly. And with such care.

Seungmin watches, breathing stuttered while he watches Minho's partner, Changbin he thinks his name was, shove Yonsu down the hallway and into the elevator.When Seungmin thinks he'll be taken for questioning, escorted downstairs to a cop car as well, or something along those lines, Minho tugs him by his hand inside instead.

The omega blinks with questioning, wide eyes, confusion apparent on his face. Minho's hands tremble with anger as he fumbles with a voice recorder, setting it on the couch between them. Dori sits in Seungmin's lap, a calming presence between them and a nice coat for the omega to pet while he regulates his core after so much chaos.

"Seungmin." Minho starts, giving the other a serious yet soft look. "I want to get this guy out of your life, I want to put him away for a long time." Seungmin nods, understanding, agreeing. Minho reaches for Seungmins hand, holding it softly in the both of his as he levels the omega, gently, of course.

"So everything, every detail about how he's managed to keep you pinned for so long, who he is, how he thinks, where he goes, what he does, why he does it, I need you to tell me. Every. Single. Detail."

Minho rubs his hand as he says this, and despite the way Seungmin's fire and strength had left him so long ago, the way he'd been idly sitting by, letting his life be ruled over and dictated like he was some animal– his fight returns to him tonight. Because like everyone else, Seungmin has the right to live. He deserves to live. He wants to live.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨

Yonsu is taken into police custody and questioned after refusing medical treatment the first time he's asked. Lieutenant Christopher tells Minho he's too close to the case to be put on it at all, but Minho is much too stubborn to just take being put on the sidelines sitting down.

"Chan, come on, this guy has got connections, you know I'm the best at getting around things like this." the casual, comfortable approach, because before Chan was promoted, years ago, he was Minho's partner.

"Min, come on, what kind of chief would I be if I put you on a case where you're wholly involved with the victim. People are gonna be questioning your connections if I did something so blatantly biased. You have to understand. You have direct and intimate contact with– what's his name–"

"Kim Seungmin."

"Kim Seung– see! You're too close to this."

Minho groans, taking a lap around the office at his own stupidity. He walked right into that one.

"Okay, okay! Don't put me on the official case. But, please, let me go in there. Nobody is gonna get a rise out of this guy like I can. Because I'm so close to the case."

Chan sighs, running a hand down his face, but Minho pushes forward.

"A guy like this asshole has nothing but poorly structured sass, with no root feeding his ego but a rich family and a job that lets him build good ties with people who can make sure he never gets more than a slap on the wrist. Seungmin, the victim, his boyfriend–"

"Your lover." Chan highlights, raising his brows at Minho.

Minho grits his teeth, blinking rapidly before he continues. "His boyfriend– says he has an ex that he only mentioned briefly while they were going over dating history, I looked into her." Chan has a calculating look on his face, and Minho knows he's got him.

"She died, weeks before Seungmin said he and Yonsu met. Blunt force trauma. She was found with her body thrown into a dumpster, 3 blocks from the apartment she bought after they broke up. The killer was never caught."

"You abused police resources to look into his past."

"No, I borrowed them. And everything matches up. Yonsu was brought in for questioning, but before they could question him enough to find him guilty, a source from higher ups called to have him released, saying he was their alibi and that Yonsu was a quote a respective, busy man."

"Do you really think it's a coincidence that his last lover ended up dead, and his current one ran screaming for help with a bloody nose and ring around his neck?? This guy is a dangerous abuser, anybody with a shred of common sense and human decency can come to that conclusion."

"Minho, I can't help you, honestly. My boss says it's out of my hands."

"Chris. You have to trust me on this. I've been watching this guy for months. We don't need a confession. We need a crack in the mask. Let me be the one to break it. Yonsu's not going to hand you the truth — but I can corner him into choking on it, or letting it slip. I only need a few minutes."

Chan looks around, eyes darting over to his office window and back to Minho.

"Sorry Min, I've got somewhere to be, and things to do."

Minho's eyes light up in recognition, and suddenly, he's hyper aware of his surroundings, as well as the situation he's in and who might be listening. Irritated and pent up, Minho relents, shaking his head.

"Your going to regret this, Chris." he tells him, turning and walking out of the man's office and back to his desk, where he grabs his coat, coffee, and heads out of the precinct.

He stands in the alleyway behind the building, sipping idly from his cup. He looks up to the sky, sighing tiredly as he stands there, waiting.

Not for long though, about 20 minutes later, a car pulls up in front of him, a black bmw, gorgeous and sleek and familiar.

He tosses his empty cup into the dumpster next to the back door of the precinct, opening the door and slipping into the passenger side seat without a word.

About a 15 minute car ride later, after they've thoroughly assured their not being followed, Chan pulls over on another side of town, and they exit the car quietly.

A few feet away from the vehicle, Chan and Minho snack on stuffed croissants as they exchange conversation, casually, like friends. Nobody suspects a thing.

"So tell me about him." Chan says, biting into the bread like a starved man.

"He's got a history of missing or dead lovers, 5, there's multiple police reports from 3 of them. But nothing ever stuck, so none of it is on record. I don't know if it's because he paid someone off or he made a call, but he's manipulating the system."

Chan nods, calm, like Minho is telling him about his day and not a dangerous abuser,

"I can tell, I figured it wasn't a coincidence that right after he got his phone call there was someone from the department trying to take the case, and phone calls from higher ups attempting to put you on leave from the precinct, on the grounds that you intervened between a street fight."

Minho scoffs at that, squeezing jelly onto his croissant, shaking his head.

"We were in an apartment building. And I've been working with Seungmin to collect evidence on this guy's record of violence for months. This is our precinct. Who do these guys think they are?"

"They've got people on our team too," Chan muttered, his tone tight with disgust. "Not that they know exactly who they're helping. I doubt they realize the weight of it. But even unintentional loyalty to a bastard like Yonsu? That's dangerous. They bend rules, pull strings, fulfill favors. And criminals walk. That's a crime in my book."

Minho didn't say much at first. He just nodded, jaw clenched, gaze unfocused. This wasn't just another case. It wasn't just another bastard. It was him. Yonsu. And Seungmin—Seungmin, who barely made it out alive. The thought alone made Minho's fists curl.

"This is gonna escalate," he said finally. The words tasted heavy. Risky. It wasn't something he should've admitted, not to anyone. But Chan wasn't just anyone. Before he wore the lieutenant's stripes, he was just Chan. His partner. His friend. The one who always knew when to speak and when to stay quiet—and when to cross a line for the people who mattered.

Chan looked at him with a knowing stillness, then said, "As your captain, I should tell you that you're too close. That this only ends one of 3 ways, and none of them are clean. That the more you tangle yourself in this, the harder it'll be to pull out."

Minho didn't flinch. He just finished the last bite of his croissant and stared out at nothing.

"But as your friend," Chan continued, softer now, "I hope someone gets that bastard. I hope, if it comes to it, someone makes him pay for every bruise, every breath he tried to rip out of that boy's lungs. I hope Seungmin gets to fight back—and win. I hope this ends with him finally walking away free."

Minho's voice was barely above a whisper. "Then don't stop anything."

Of course. Chan didn't. He wouldn't. Because deep down, in all the places they couldn't say out loud, they both wanted the same thing: for Seungmin to come out alive—and for Yonsu not to.

"Minho, if your career has amounted to anything, prepared you for anything, prepped you to catch any criminal, it's this guy. Drug rings, robbers, murderers, rapists, all of it just goes to prove how capable you are. If–when– Seungmin is put into a complicated situation towards the end of this, I'll do everything in my power to make sure both of you make it to freedom, and make sure that jackass is no longer a problem. Yeah?"

Chan throws an arm around Minho as he nods, the pair rocking in unison. Minho doesn't fight him off, or yell to get him to recoil, he allows it. Because after all, Chan is allowing him something far greater. This is the least he can do.

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"Choi Yonsu." Minho says, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

Yonsu gazes at him from where he's cuffed to the table, the look he's giving is intense and dark. This guy can't be anything but an abuser, Minho thinks. He gives off an evil aura, like a white man in any form of authority in America.

Predatory, manipulative, arrogant.

"Lee Minho." the man returns in the same tone of voice, his jaw tight. He clearly can't even stand to be in the same room as Minho.

Great then, that makes this a lot easier.

"Stop, now, Minho. Let's not get comfortable here. I'll be out in a few hours."

"You'll get what's coming to you, and it'll come from the last person you'll expect it to. You're not as scary as you think you are, you're not as intimidating as you sike yourself up to be. You've got a temper, and it's gotten the best of you. Time and time again. Kim Taelyn, Ley Shun, do you remember them?" Seungmin leans down, sliding pictures of the two omegan women across the table.

Minho can see the irritation in the bulging vein on the other alpha's forehead, but no remorse or sadness shows in the mans gaze or body language.

Piece of shit.

"Of course, detective, but I've got nothing to hide. So why would they be relevant when I've got a lovely boyfriend making my home for me present day."

It pisses off Minho to no degree, the nonchalance at which he lies straight to his face. But he says nothing. He simply smiles, beaming sarcastically at Yonsu's words.

"Great! I was hoping you'd say that, so I can record this conversation right?

Yonsu watches intently as Minho pulls a camera and tripod from out of the observation room. He gives the man a polite little cat smile, holding the tripod like a kid having won an award for karate or something.

The look Yonsu gives him is.. Off guard, perplexed, like he hadn't expected what had come. It's there as quickly as it's gone. Yonsu chuckles politely, giving a curious shake of his head while he blinks rapidly, attempting to regain his footing.

"I'll take your silence as agreement, your neglect to deny is on record, and will now be written as consent. You're a lawyer, you know what neglect to explicitly deny consent means. I'm sure you'd know what it looks like when your omega says he doesn't want intercourse, then again, that's what got you in this situation, isn't it?"

Minho is vibrating with pride, with excitement, everything of the sort, but he keeps his composure. It almost, almost shatters when he feels something of exhilaration when he sees Yonsu's eye twitch at the mention of why the fight had started in the first place.

"Itching at all, Yonsu?"

"You're not even on the case," Yonsu spits, low and bitter, his voice trying its best to coil around Minho's throat. "You have no right to be doing any of this."

Minho clicks the camera on. The red light blinks once. "You gave permission, didn't you?"

Yonsu doesn't answer, but the silence is its own tell. He shifts, stiffly, clearly favoring his left side. The thin fabric of his shirt clings damp to his chest, stained with what must be remnants of the soup Seungmin had hurled at him. His lip is busted, his jaw swollen, his arms marked with deep scratches—evidence of a fight he hadn't expected. Of a victim refusing to play by his script.

Minho lets the silence stretch, slow and deliberate. His smile is polite, a little too easy. "You look like shit."

Yonsu finally glances up, and it's subtle—the flicker of humiliation behind the glare—but Minho sees it. And God, it lights something in him.

He leans back, crossing his arms like he's just passing time, like this isn't the highlight of his goddamn week. "Seungmin got you good, huh?" he murmurs. "What was it? Kick to the balls? Soup to the chest? Finger in the eyes? Sexually transmitted diseases due to inability to approach intercourse correctly?.." the detective trails off, purposeful.

Yonsu's nostrils flare, but his face stays locked.

Minho's smile deepens, sharp and pleased. He wants to laugh. 'You did it Minnie'. That quiet, broken boy who couldn't hold eye contact a few months ago, who flinched every time someone knocked at the door—he fought back. Fought hard. And got away.

"You know," Minho says, softer now, leaning forward, "it takes a lot for someone in his position to bite back. It takes more than rage. Takes preparation. Takes motivation. So either you really underestimated him, or you really deserved it. Maybe both."

He watches the older alpha closely. Watches how his burned hands twitch with the need to retaliate. But there's no retaliation left. Seungmin had already taken that from him. And Minho? He was just the stepping stone, the match that lit the fuse. That's all he ever wanted to be.

"I'm not answering any more questions," Yonsu hisses, breaths short, eyes hard. That cocky bastard who had sat down a few minutes ago, who was overly confident he could defy the law once again, gone.

Poor guy, he simply hadn't factored in Minho, he simply hadn't taken the time to really get to know Kim Seungmin. This lack of ego won't last with whoever comes to interrogate him next, but right now is all Minho needed, the evidence of him breaking, the twitching he does when he's hit where he's tender, it's humiliating, and it's enough.

"Not a problem," Minho replies easily, slipping his hands into his pockets. "You've already told me more than you realize."

He steps closer again, lowering his voice to something just between them. "See, the difference between you and me is simple. You bought your power. Built it on connections and money. I earned mine. And now? You're sitting here covered in burns and bruises, and I've got a camera rolling and a victim who's finally not afraid of you."

Right then, the door creaks open.

Yonsu's lawyer enters fast, eyes already narrowed. "Detective Lee. You're not on this case. You're not authorized to be here."

Minho doesn't even look at him. Just calmly shuts the camera off, plucks out the SD card, and tucks it into his pocket.

"No worries," he says smoothly, flashing a smile at Yonsu. "I got what I came for."

He turns to leave, and just before the door shuts behind him, he tosses one last glance over his shoulder—a knowing one. Not smug, not arrogant. Just proud.

Good job, Seungmo. Minho thinks. You fought back. And now, with the clock ticking and the tides turning, Minho knows exactly where to stand—right behind Seungmin, wherever this war leads.

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