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A Kiss...deperately.

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Dongmin’s heart pounded. Sure he’d done his military service, and he’d played in several action dramas, but he was in no way equipped to actually handle any kind of serious combat situation.

The thugs who had Jinwoo were huge and could probably break Dongmin like a twig, but Jinwoo had managed to put up a pretty good fight. Granted, Jinwoo was a super special government agent with all kinds of fancy special training. And Jinwoo wasn’t looking too good. His face was bruised and cut, and his left arm was hanging oddly.

All those months ago, when Dongmin had been out at a fanmeeting and a stranger had cut through the crowd and kissed him, a stranger who was actually a sunbae from high school who Dongmin had had a crush on, Dongmin had thought it was kind of like a dream come true.

And then he and Jinwoo had started dating, and it seemed all right. Sure, Jinwoo was some kind of government agent, but he was mostly an analyst, he’d said.

Obviously that was some kind of cover.

And now Dongmin’s life was too much like a movie for comfort. The bad guys were after Jinwoo, and they had kidnapped Jinwoo’s boyfriend as leverage.

Dongmin knew how the movies went. The boyfriend begged the hero not to give in and either sacrificed himself or died to galvanize the hero into defeating the villains.

Dongmin wasn’t about to let himself die, because he didn’t think that would actually help Jinwoo. This wasn’t a movie. Time to make a desperate move.

“Before you do anything to me, can I just - can I kiss him goodbye?” Dongmin widened his eyes and put a tremble into his voice, let his lip quiver a bit, blinked a lot so his eyes watered. He could cry on command. Not every actor had that skill.

The thugs glanced at their boss.

The boss eyed Dongmin, then Jinwoo. 

“Sure,” the boss said, amused. “Give your loverboy a kiss goodbye.”

The one thug holding Dongmin shoved him, and Dongmin stumbled to his feet. He crossed the room and knelt in front of Jinwoo. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinwoo whispered. He was crying.

Dongmin’s heart broke.

“I didn’t mean for you to -”

“Don’t be sorry,” Dongmin said. “I love you. We’ll be all right.” And he leaned in and kissed Jinwoo.

Hard. And fast. And dirty. He made it good, mouth open, tongues twinning, hands roaming.

He heard the thugs snicker and murmur to each other, and he kept kissing Jinwoo - and he snaked his hands under Jinwoo’s jacket, searching.

And he found it.

The emergency beacon Sanha had talked about one time.

He activated it.

And then he found the other thing that Myungjun had mentioned one time.

(So many things Jinwoo’s fellow agents probably shouldn’t have mentioned in front of a civilian, but being star-struck was a real thing.)

Dongmin tore open the lining of Jinwoo’s jacket pocket, scooped out the little device, activated it.

And then he threw it.

There was a yell.

Dongmin surged to his feet, dragging Jinwoo with him. Jinwoo let out a little cry of pain, but Dongmin headed straight for the nearest door, and then he heard the explosion.

There was more shouting.

Dongmin and Jinwoo ran.