Chapter Text
Gi-hun sat at his worn desk in his quaint office, feet kicked up as he leaned, practically supine, in his chair. It was a gaudy gaming chair, stuffed to the gills with padding and reclined almost 180 degrees.
He'd bought it from its previous owner on Facebook market place for cheap, supposedly never before used, and it had been his prized possession ever since, ever since he'd surpassed the age of 40 and his back pain had made an unwelcome appearance.
He was sifting through newly acquired case files, pressing his thumb to his tongue as he flicked through the pages, when a knock sounded from outside his door—three quick raps—and Gi-hun startled. He swiftly removed his feet from his desk, and attempted to straighten out the many files atop his workspace, but that just ended with him knocking a container of paper clips to the floor with a clatter.
"Ah, come in, please," Gi-hun called out, using his foot to kick any visible clips under his desk.
The door promptly swung open, and his captain strode into the room, letting the door click closed behind him.
"Detective Gi-hun, I have a new case to assign to you," the man spoke, adjusting a thick binder that he held snug underneath his armpit. He stepped forward, grabbing the binder and dropping it onto Gi-hun's messy desk. Gi-hun immediately reached for it, opening it.
"It revolves around an organisation that specialises in the manufacturing and dealing of illegal substances. Recently, it's grown exponentially in a short amount of time, and we have received intel that they have been transporting packages overseas. We have a mole on the inside who has let us know of an especially large package they plan to send away soon."
Gi-hun hummed, eyes scanning the pages.
"It's dangerous, detective. Our mole has refused to involve themselves further, worried for their life."
"It's alright, Captain," Gi-hun assured with a bright smile. "With Sangwoo and I on this case, you have nothing to worry about."
The Captain hesitated a moment. "About that. Sangwoo will not be working this case with you."
"What?"
"He's put in a request for leave. I've had to accept."
"Then—who?" Gi-hun stumbled, eyebrows raised in shock.
"A very capable detective from Gyeonggi-do precinct, said to be their best."
"Gyeonggi-do precinct?" Gi-hun parroted, face falling, tone sulky.
"Wipe that look off your face, detective," the Captain snapped. "I understand our precincts have had our differences, but you two gentlemen are the most qualified for the job, and this job is crucial. So, I expect the both of you to pull yourselves together and leave any childish quarrels in the past."
Gi-hun almost made another face, but caught himself. "Yes Captain. Ah, when do I start working with... him." Gi-hun couldn't stop his lingering disappointment from showing through.
The Captain sighed. "Right now. Detective In-ho." The captain gestured to the door, and much alike the grand entrance of the main antagonist from some Disney movie, a man dressed in a pristine suit walked through the doorway. The man sported the foulest resting bitch face Gi-hun had ever laid eyes upon, and a cool villain-y slick back to go with it—the whole shebang.
Gi-hun could only stare at the other in poorly guised astonishment, before the silence encasing the room grew too uncomfortable. Gi-hun shot up from his chair, rounding his desk, his hip clipping a corner of it and sending him stumbling forward a couple steps, leaving him standing in awkwardly close proximity to the other.
He cleared his throat, before bowing his head, just barely avoiding head butting the man. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Detective Gi-hun, it's an honour to be working with you." He smiled a painfully forced smiled, holding a hand out in the small space between them.
In-ho's expression didn't change a smidge, but his eyes did glance down to Gi-hun's offered hand. In-ho then buried his hands in his pant pockets, nodding almost imperceptibly in response. "Likewise."
Gi-hun's expression drooped, lips twitching downward in a subtle frown.
He hated the man already.
-
Gi-hun was currently holed up in the back of a black van parked in a dingy side street, totally not conspicuous. The clock had long passed midnight, and the inevitable fatigue of staying up past Gi-hun's strict bedtime of 9:00pm was setting in. Gi-hun's first shift with In-ho was a stakeout, which involved spending hours together in close quarters with no one's company but the man beside him. How stellar.
Under normal circumstances, Gi-hun loved stakeouts; they made him feel all giddy like he was in some janky spy movie. Alas, these were no normal circumstances.
Gi-hun flicked through the cameras on the sizeable monitor before him, eyes squinting to see past the staticky resolution of the screen, just as he had been doing for the past hour in completely bland silence. Honestly, he was primarily occupied with keeping himself busy more than actually looking out for suspicious activity.
In-ho resided next to Gi-hun, arms crossed over his broad chest, made broader by the heavy duty police gear he was wearing.
Gi-hun swore he was beginning to grow cross-eyed with how hard his eyes had been focusing on the screen before him. He let out a sigh as he slouched back in his seat, eyes fluttering closed.
"Jeez, I could really go for some soju right about now," Gi-hun thought out loud. When silence persisted, he squinted one eye open, sneaking a glance at the other who was staring directly at him, expression apathetic. "Don't you think?" Gi-hun pried.
"Drinking on the job is against workplace regulations," In-ho's voice came out flat, unimpressed.
Oh, my god.
Gi-hun wondered if having this little personality was against workplace regulations, because it sure as hell should be.
Gi-hun only sat up, lips morphing into a tight-lipped smile, hands rubbing awkwardly at his thighs. "Uhm, yes. Of course," he muttered. "I would never... do that—drink on the job, that is," Gi-hun clarified unnecessarily.
In-ho blinked at him.
Gi-hun cleared his throat. "So, how long have you been a detective, detective?"
"A while. Are you paying attention to those cameras?"
"Ah, me too! Fifteen years for me, now. Looks like we've got quite a bit in common."
"Eighteen years," In-ho bragged with a blank look. "And no. We don't."
"And how long have you had that stick up your ass?" Gi-hun snapped, looking the other up and down with a bewildered look.
In-ho's jaw clenched, and Gi-hun's mouth shut instantly, though the damage had already been done.
Gi-hun cleared his throat once again, turning back to the cameras, shoulders bunching up by his ears in his slouched position. In-ho's unrelenting stare bore into Gi-hun's temple, whose fingers drummed against his thigh nervously.
In Gi-hun's peripheral, he saw In-ho's shoulders rise slightly, like he was readying to say something. Gi-hun instantly shot up, shoving a palm in In-ho's face, silently telling him to shut up.
"I see something!" Gi-hun pointed to the blotchy silhouette of a man exiting a door of the warehouse they were monitoring. Gi-hun had never before believed in any sort of religion, but he could spot a blessing when he saw one.
In-ho's body language shifted suddenly, muscles tensed as he teetered on the edge of his seat. "Just give me the word."
Gi-hun squinted, watching the man walk briskly down the street with hands in pockets. He nodded assuredly. "Go!"
At that, In-ho launched himself from his seat, busting out the van's double doors and immediately setting into a sprint in the direction of the thug. Gi-hun swivelled to look at a second monitor that displayed In-ho's body cam, before scrambling to fit an ear piece in his ear.
"Quick, quick! Target is headed down doduk-ro road!"
"Copy that," In-ho grunted into Gi-hun's ear.
Gi-hun frantically looked between both monitors, from In-ho's bouncing camera footage to the many viewpoints they'd set up around the block, desperately tracking the man.
"There's a fork in the road coming up, turn left—no, right!" Gi-hun chewed at his nail. "I mean, er."
"Left or right, Gi-hun?" In-ho ground out, his voice rough. Gi-hun ignored the wave of goosebumps that appeared at the sound of his own name.
Gi-hun lifted both hands in the air, making an 'L' with each finger, looking between the two before nodding vehemently. "Left! Left!"
In-ho grunted in confirmation, rerouting and taking a swift left down an alley. "I see him," In-ho panted. Gi-hun nodded, even though the other couldn't see him.
He could see the criminal through In-ho's footage, approaching an impressively tall gate. The man swivelled around, slamming it closed, a lock clicking and sealing it shut.
"Aish, that's okay. In-ho, there's another way if you take—"
Gi-hun didn't get the chance to finish his sentence before In-ho pounced at the fence, fingers gripping at the wire hexagons. In no time, he had scaled the fence and jumped down without a moment's hesitation, continuing to pursue the man.
Gi-hun's mouth hung slightly agape, yet no sounds came out. It felt like he was watching one of those cute cat cam videos Gi-hun had become obsessed with, In-ho's movements agile and predatory.
In-ho rapidly gained on the man, snatching a taser from his holster, aiming it at the man's back. With a click of a trigger, an electrified barb shot out, digging itself into the man's back. Immediately, the criminal toppled over, muscles locking involuntarily. In-ho jumped on the man, landing atop of him and straddling him as a knee dug into the muscle of the man's lower back.
"You're under arrest!" In-ho's staticky voice sounded out. "You have the right to remain silent!" Gi-hun only watched on as In-ho man handled the poor guy, his large hand gripping the back of the thug's neck, his other hand yanking the man's arms backward, pulling his shoulders uncomfortably taught in their sockets as In-ho cuffed the man's hands together.
Wow, In-ho had nice hands.
"What?" came In-ho's voice through the earpiece.
Gi-hun's eyes widened minutely, mouth opening and closing like a hungry fish. "I—nothing, you can bring him back, now."
An indignant huff blew wind through In-ho's earpiece and sounded loud and threatening through Gi-hun's. Then, a shuffling was heard before In-ho's earpiece disconnected. Gi-hun let his head fall forward to land in the crook of his elbow, wondering if In-ho hated him as much as he hated himself in that moment.
He guessed yes, and then some.
-
Their next shift was yet another stakeout, because their last one went so brilliantly. The man they arrested, well, who In-ho arrested, had valiantly refused to answer any questions following his arrest. However, after just one offer for a lesser sentence he'd immediately ratted out his comrades and told them where a consultation between two gangs would occur.
And that's where the two detectives currently resided, sat side by side in a car parked outside an abandoned building.
This time, Gi-hun refused to bare the excruciating boredom he'd suffered from last time. He'd stopped by his favourite bakery before his shift and ordered his go-to, too sugary coffee order along with a calorie stuffed pastry. Gi-hun sat in the driver's seat, content as he munched on the flaky pastry and washed it down with his warm drink. Though, one thing was dampening the experience, and it sat right beside him.
In-ho had been sending the other not so subtle looks, staring down Gi-hun and his goodies. Frustrated, and wanting to enjoy his food in peace, Gi-hun whipped his head toward the other.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want one?" Gi-hun's question was muffled by a mouthful of food, but even that couldn't hide the sarcasm lining his words.
In-ho spared the other a swift side glance, before staring out his window. "Might've been nice."
Gi-hun rolled his eyes, pulling a childish face at the back of the other's head.
"I can see your reflection," In-ho said.
Gi-hun stuttered a moment, before backtracking, blinking rapidly and poking at his eye. "I know that! I just, ah, have something in my eye."
In-ho turned to the other with a brow quirked upwards. Then, in a swift movement, reached out a hand, snatching Gi-hun's jaw, squishing his cheeks together. He pulled the other's face towards his own and Gi-hun's eyes flew open, akin to a dear in headlights. In-ho took the opportunity to blow harshly into the other's eye. Gi-hun squawked, wriggling to get out of the other's steely hold on him.
When In-ho let go, Gi-hun went reeling back, hitting his head against his car door.
"Better?" In-ho asked smugly.
Gi-hun hissed, rubbing at the back of his head and blinking rapidly as tears glazed over his eyes to rid the sudden dryness. "You asshole! That was assault!" Gi-hun jeered. "I'll report you for workplace harassment!"
"Mhm," In-ho responded half-heartedly, not at all worried.
Gi-hun shot daggers at the other, before grumbling profanities to himself. He snatched up his brown paper bag, angrily tearing off a piece of his pastry and shoving it into his mouth.
And once again, the car was eloped in mundane silence, save for Gi-hun's aggressive chewing. Before long, Gi-hun began to grow bored. He reached out, pressing on the radio. A trashy pop song came on, and Gi-hun's mood lightened significantly as he bobbed his head along to the tune, fingers tapping methodically at the steering wheel.
It had just gotten to the good part of the song before it abruptly cut out. Gi-hun thought it might have been a buffer courtesy of poor reception, but as he turned to check the signal, he saw In-ho's fingertip pressed against the radio's button, the tip of his appendage white from the pressure. Gi-hun glanced up, disbelieving as he locked eyes with In-ho.
In-ho stared at the other with those sharp eyes, unblinking, before slowly retracting his finger. His firm gaze stayed trained on Gi-hun for a few moments more, as if challenging him, before turning back to stare out his window once again.
Gi-hun looked the other up and down as though trying to find where the other man found the audacity. His mouth pouted with his offence, and in a sudden surge of annoyance, his hand shot out to push the button, resuming the music. Gi-hun could see the muscles of the other man's jaw seize, the vein running along his neck protruding from the strain. In-ho turned slowly, locking eyes with Gi-hun. He held the eye contact as he leaned to turn the radio off.
Gi-hun frowned, turning it back on.
This time, when In-ho reached for the radio, Gi-hun slapped his hand away harshly. For a brief moment, surprise flitted over In-ho's features as he retracted his hand, before his usual grumpy expression took charge.
"You are a child," In-ho huffed, reaching for the radio again.
Gi-hun lurched forward to grab the other's wrist, preventing any movement. "I am older than you!"
In-ho tried to snatch his hand back, but Gi-hun was persistent. When that didn't work, the youngest pushed himself forward, leaning over the middle console of the car, attempting to wiggle his hand free. Gi-hun fell backward to evade the other's advances, but ended up pulling In-ho with him.
"Oi, get off of me!" Gi-hun seethed.
"You're holding onto me!" In-ho barked with a rare show of emotion.
Gi-hun continued to struggle with the other, yanking and pushing. In-ho was now fully leaning over Gi-hun's chair, effectively trapping him. Gi-hun growled, pulling his knees up to his chest before kicking out his foot, nestling it in the other's gut. In-ho let out a wheeze as he keeled over, winded.
When Gi-hun retracted his leg, In-ho's only support, the former came crashing down. At the last second, both men turned their heads to the side to avoid mushing lips. Now, with their cheeks pressed together, tangled in each other's limbs, they were in quite the predicament.
Through the whole ordeal, the car had been shaking under the weight of the two men. A lookout for the gang had inevitably caught sight of the commotion, and warned their higher ups. A swanky black car revved its engine, before speeding off and fleeing the site.
"Gi-hun, they're getting away," In-ho's voice was muffled with his face squished against the other's.
Gi-hun swore, and finally let go of the other. He palmed In-ho's face away, shoving him back into the passenger seat. Then, with a swift change in gears, Gi-hun backed out of his parking space, before setting the car back into drive and fishtailing it out of their stakeout position.
"You gave us away!" Gi-hun yelled. In-ho's silence was more unsettling than any insult he could have aimed toward the other.
"Just catch up to them," In-ho grunted, chest puffing out in fury.
Gi-hun slammed his foot onto the pedal, flooring it. Gi-hun's fingers tightened around the wheel, watching as the needle of the speedometer quivered as it struggled to keep up with the sudden speed. It passed 50, 60, 70, 80...
In-ho swallowed, shooting a quick look to the other beside him. In-ho had to double take, furrowing his brows. He quickly leaned over Gi-hun, grabbing the man's seatbelt from the other side of him and pulling it tight over Gi-hun's chest, securing it with a click.
Gi-hun couldn't help the small chuckle that left his lips at the other's actions.
They'd caught up to the car, tailgating it. In-ho reached for the walkie talkie built into the undercover cop car, raising it to his lips. "This is the police, pull over immediately," his voice belted through the speakers outside the car. The vehicle in front of them only sped up. Then, its windows rolled down, and In-ho's eyes widened as guns appeared outside the car before them.
"Duck!" Gi-hun yelled.
Gunshots rang out, and a bullet flew through the windshield, causing Gi-hun to swerve. In-ho quickly reached to correct the wheel, keeping his head low. Fortunately, the other bullets were aimed primarily at the wheels of their car, attempting to puncture a tire. Their close proximity made it difficult to get a clear shot however, and the criminal's took a quick left.
Gi-hun cursed, pulling the wheel to a full lock, veering left. In-ho flew across the car with the momentum and slammed into his car door, bringing his hand to his ear at the last second to cushion the impact as his head crashed into the window.
"Sorry!" Gi-hun shouted.
Screeching accompanied the commotion as the wheels skidded across the road, leaving burnt rubber engraved in the asphalt.
Gi-hun slammed on the gas pedal, the back of the car warbling like a dog wagging its tail before they shot off again.
Cars honked aggressively at Gi-hun as he swerved through traffic, cutting in front of people and squeezing into spaces between cars too tight for In-ho's liking. They'd turned down numerous side streets, and took several sharp turns. They were now speeding down a street on the outskirts of town, both cars quickly approaching nearby train tracks. The warning horn sounded out, loud and blaring to announce the approach of a nearby train.
In-ho clenched his teeth, and Gi-hun only pushed his foot down farther.
"Gi-hun," In-ho started nervously. "We aren't going to make it."
"We'll make it," Gi-hun assured.
In-ho spotted the train hurtling down the tracks to his left.
"Gi-hun," he warned, reaching to grab at an overhead handle, holding on for dear life. Their car revved, speeding up.
Gi-hun squinted, subconsciously leaning forward in his seat, hunching over the wheel. The car they were chasing cleared the tracks, but the barricade in front of the railroad began to drop down in front of their own car as they grew nearer. Gi-hun hissed, just a little further...
"Gi-hun!"
Gi-hun froze. They weren't going to make it.
Immediately, he slammed on the breaks, their car skidding along the road. Its mechanics screeched, trying to slow to a stop as the train flew across the tracks in front of them at an alarming speed. The car finally halted, just inches before the tracks, and both men jolted in their seats, heads slamming against their head rests.
In-ho was extremely quiet, just watching the train pass them by, thanking the heavens he wasn't currently smeared beneath it.
Gi-hun let out a heavy sigh, head falling forward and thudding against the wheel. He swore out loud, hitting his fist against it, a warbled beep of the horn sounding. In-ho turned to look at him, skin a ghostly white.
Finally the train passed, its whistle disappearing into the distance with it.
In-ho's hand fumbled with the door handle, before clicking it open with difficulty. He unclasped his seatbelt, letting himself practically fall out of his open door, and promptly threw up.
Gi-hun grimaced, watching on at the other with a touch of guilt. He leaned over, patting awkwardly at the man's back.
"There, there."
-
Gi-hun stood at the corner of a sketchy street, arms crossed, beating the floor beneath him with his foot. He glanced at his wrist, before realising he forgot his watch at home.
This shift, both men were going undercover to infiltrate a club they suspected was the organisation's primary meeting and exchange point. Him and In-ho had agreed to meet each other at this spot—Gi-hun glanced at his wrist again, but oops, still no watch—fifteen minutes ago now, Gi-hun guessed.
Gi-hun huffed, they were in no place to waste time.
"There you are," a voice rung out from behind him, and Gi-hun whipped around to face who it had come from. It was In-ho, marching towards him.
Gi-hun scoffed. "Yeah, here I am," he spat. "Where were you."
There were a few awkward seconds of silence as In-ho walked the last few strides to stand before Gi-hun. "I was at our meeting spot," In-ho spoke matter-of-factly. "Which this place isn't."
"We agreed to meet at Han-gil street!" Gi-hun declared, perching his hands atop his hips.
In-ho gave him a blank stare, before pointing his finger upward. Gi-hun's gaze followed the direction he was gesturing to, and spotted a street sign just above them.
'Hanul-gil street' It read.
"Ah," Gi-hun uttered dumbly, a warm blush creeping up his neck.
In-ho let out a long sigh, glancing at his watch that actually existed, and Gi-hun scrambled to shift the focus from himself. He gave the other a pointed once over, frowning.
"Seriously?" Gi-hun flicked his chin at In-ho, gesturing to his attire.
In-ho's head reeled back slightly, eyebrows stitching together momentarily. "What?" he asked, defensive.
"What are you wearing?"
In-ho glanced down at himself, confused. He sported a trench coat that reached almost to his knees, a black button up peeking out from under it, along with his usual black slacks.
"A trench coat?" Gi-hun asked, exasperated.
"It's cold," In-ho grumbled.
Gi-hun shook his head. "And you said you'd been doing this longer than I have."
He reached for the other's trench coat, yanking it from his shoulders and throwing it haphazardly to the curb. In-ho flinched as if he was going to reach out and catch the coat, but thought against it.
Gi-hun then reached for In-ho's collar, deft fingers working swiftly to undo the first few buttons of the other's shirt. His knuckles grazed the warmth of the other man's skin, and he fumbled the last button, the small slip up embarrassingly obvious.
The air suddenly grew dense, charged with something that formed a lump in Gi-hun's throat. Gi-hun coughed, withdrawing his hands and pointedly didn't stare at the other man's now exposed chest.
Instead, he searched for anything else that needed fixing. His gaze landed on the other's hair, slicked back without a hair out of place. Gi-hun reached up to quickly ruffle In-ho's hair, separating it in a makeshift middle part before letting his hair flop forward into his eyes as Gi-hun retracted his hands.
"Better." Gi-hun nodded, but caught sight of In-ho's neatly buttoned cuffs at his wrists.
Gi-hun grabbed at the other's wrist to unbutton and push the sleeve further up his arm, but immediately retracted his hand as it grazed the other's palm, as though he'd settled his hand atop a hot stove.
"Ah, you do that," Gi-hun cleared his throat, waving his hand.
In-ho stared at the other for a handful of seconds, and Gi-hun's eyes darted nervously under the scrutiny of the man's gaze. Finally, In-ho moved to adjust his cuffs.
"Alright, my turn," Gi-hun rushed out too loudly. "I want you to slap me—"
In-ho's hand whipped out in an instant and struck Gi-hun's cheek with a sharp thwack.
"Ow!" Gi-hun reeled back, cradling his face with both his hands.
"You asked me to." In-ho shrugged.
"A little more hesitation would have been nice," he let out indignantly, staring bewildered at In-ho, and for the first time since he'd met the man, In-ho was wearing a large, toothy grin.
In-ho analysed the red mark on the other's face, growing progressively more vibrant with each passing second. "Now you look even more like a dealer."
"Exactly," Gi-hun grumbled, still rubbing at his cheek. "Let's just go."
-
Inside the club, it was filled to the brim with people. It felt like Gi-hun had been packed into a can of sardines; wet, cramped, and smelly. People bounced off each other, reeking of alcohol and sweat, making memories they wouldn't even be able to recall the next morning with the reeling of their heads.
Gi-hun and In-ho walked beside each other, but not so close it was obvious, both scanning the main area. Then Gi-hun was knocked off balance as a woman stumbled, drunk from the dance floor. She shot him a dirty look, yelling something about him being a pervert before dashing to the bathroom to likely empty her guts.
Gi-hun grunted. "You keep looking, I'm going to buy a drink."
In-ho stopped, staring at the other expectantly.
"You want one?" Gi-hun asked, confused, until a distant memory washed over him. Drinking on the job is against workplace regulations.
Gi-hun made a sound like pshaw! "We're undercover, it's part of the act." He waved a dismissing hand over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd.
In-ho pressed his lips together in a thin line, unimpressed, but continued to barge his way through the mass of people. He was pushed and pulled with the crowd, which made it a considerably longer trip, but he let himself be swayed with the people and the music, keeping up appearances. He'd clasp the hand of a nearby lady every now and again, pulling her arm up before spinning her, eliciting a giggle and a playful wink which he'd return with excessive flare.
Eventually, he breached the crowd, and made it to the opposite side of the room, casually glancing around as he settled into a relaxed posture. It wasn't long before he spotted someone slip out from a door that resided down a short, hidden hallway. In-ho blinked. It looked liked he'd appeared from nowhere; the door was camouflaged, its paint the same colour as the surrounding walls.
The man's movements were anything but subtle, instead jittery as he glanced frantically around the room to see if he had been spotted. In-ho easily slipped into a nearby alcove before the man's gaze landed on him.
Seemingly satisfied, the man walked briskly from the suspicious corner of the club, and In-ho waited until the man passed him by before stepping out of his hiding spot. He paused, wondering if he really wanted to fetch Gi-hun, or if he'd rather carry out the job by himself, let it be smooth and seamless. Alas, he had protocols to follow, a moral Gi-hun clearly didn't share.
Despite himself, In-ho headed toward the bar, teetering along the outskirts of the dance floor, reluctant to get pulled into the whirlpool of drunks again. He reached the bar, and swiftly spotted Gi-hun, hunched over himself with a soju in his hand, talking obnoxiously loud with the person beside him.
In-ho had to admit, the other man played the part of a washed up drunk well, but maybe that was just Gi-hun being Gi-hun.
"Gi-hun," In-ho murmured in the other's ear as he approached him.
Gi-hun turned in his seat, slightly startled until he realised who it was. He immediately wiped his previously carefree expression from his face, returning In-ho's intense look. Gi-hun downed his shot in a volley, slipping the bartender a note to cover his drink and followed closely behind In-ho as he lead the way.
There was no-one guarding the door, which seemed stupid. But, then again, having a jacked up and tatted bollard of a man standing by the door wouldn't exactly be discreet. In-ho opened the door, and Gi-hun took the opportunity to slip through.
"Thanks," Gi-hun muttered. In-ho didn't bother clarifying he hadn't opened the door for him.
The room beyond the door was strange, consisting of a long hallway with several doors lining both walls. There was a narrow stair case at the end of the corridor. Both men checked each door as they progressed down the hallway, finding nothing worth while in any of them. They began to ascend the stairs, one cautious step after the other.
The second level had a significant less number of rooms, and the corridor was shorter. Gi-hun stopped suddenly, and In-ho paused close behind him. He heard Gi-hun sniff the air a few times, head tilted to the ceiling like a dog snuffing out fresh bacon. Gi-hun did some strange hand signal that he probably saw out of an illegitimate cop show. In-ho guessed it looked cool when the actor did it, but when Gi-hun copied it, it looked stupid.
In-ho refrained from rolling his eyes, and just followed behind Gi-hun until they stood outside one of the rooms. Fluorescent purple lighting bled into the hallway from the gaps of the door. In-ho immediately recognised them and pushed the door open. Sure enough, the room was filled with rows of potted marijuana, incubating in the LED lights. Gi-hun pulled out his mobile to snap photos of their findings, irrefutable evidence to guarantee the gang's arrest.
Both men shared a curt nod of their heads, and headed out the door, following the same route and making their way to leave as soon as possible. When they reached the exit, however, two men were already waiting for them. They jumped in front of In-ho and Gi-hun, arms crossed over their chests. In-ho and Gi-hun shared a fleeting look.
"Good evening, gentlemen," one of the men guarding the door said with a smile, too strained to be genuine. "A little birdie told me you two pigs were sneaking around in places you had no right to be sticking your nosy snouts in."
In-ho squared his shoulders, jaw setting. These guys weren't being subtle at all, they knew they were busted, which meant they'd go to any means to prevent Gi-hun and himself from escaping. In-ho's gaze flitted down to catch one of the men's fingers twitch by their thigh, where the tip of a gun's barrel poked out underneath the man's untucked shirt. In-ho's own gun tucked into the back of his jeans felt colder against his skin.
In-ho glanced briefly over his shoulder, and saw a trail where the crowd had been split. The culprit was a handful of men pushing and shoving civilians out of the way, quickly making their way closer to them.
Gi-hun noticed this too, and turned to the two goons before them, raising a placating hand.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding. You see, we—" Gi-hun cut himself off, balling his hand into a fist and clocking one of the guys in the jaw, hard.
In-ho followed in his footsteps, grabbing the other man's shoulders, diving forward and colliding his head with the man's nose, a nasty crunch following the action. With both men incapacitated, Gi-hun and In-ho barged out the door, the cold night air hitting them as soon as they tumbled into the street.
In-ho grabbed at Gi-hun's wrist and began to run, hauling the other man along with him.
Shouting was heard from behind them mere moments after, and the thudding of shoes against the pavement encouraged In-ho to pump his legs faster. Gi-hun pulled In-ho back slightly as he struggled to keep up with his pace, but In-ho simply tightened his grip on the other, continuing to tug him along.
Gi-hun whipped his head around, cursing under his breath. "They have guns!"
When Gi-hun turned back around, he only just avoided bowling over an old woman's fresh produce stall. He stumbled, but In-ho quickly helped him recover. They took a sharp left, just in time to avoid a sudden shower of bullets directed their way. The street they turned onto was significantly more populated, and In-ho only hoped the thugs had enough self preservation to avoid killing innocent civilians.
They darted between people, and In-ho noticed Gi-hun's laboured breaths behind him, and also noticed a gap between buildings up ahead; a quick escape.
They reached the alleyway, and In-ho slipped to disappear amongst the shadows, pulling Gi-hun along with him. Gi-hun made a strained noise, tripping over himself as he followed close behind the other.
Suddenly, Gi-hun felt hands all over him, a fist burying into his collar, before shoving him into the nearest wall. The rough brick clawed through the material of his shirt, and scraped painfully at his back as Gi-hun was pushed further up the wall, with In-ho pressing himself against Gi-hun.
"Wha.. what are you—" Gi-hun huffed out, breathless for a couple of reasons. In-ho shushed him, his strong hand gripping at Gi-hun's jaw. The darkness of the alleyway made it difficult to see properly, but when Gi-hun's eyes gradually adjusted, his breath hitched at seeing how close the other was.
Gi-hun felt In-ho's hand plant itself on his waist, his thumb sneaking passed Gi-hun's shirt and stopping to brush against bare skin. Gi-hun felt a thigh slyly slip between his legs, and In-ho's own laboured breaths fanned across Gi-hun's face.
Gi-hun vaguely recognised numerous sets of feet clopping against concrete, nearing where the two resided, eloped in the shadows of the alley.
In-ho began to lean in closer, and for a moment, Gi-hun believed the other man was about to kiss him. But then the hand cupping Gi-hun's jaw shot upward to nestle in his hair, grasping the roots and tugging his head back, a dull throbbing beginning where Gi-hun's head crashed against the wall behind him.
In-ho dove in, latching onto Gi-hun's neck, unexpectedly soft lips pressing firmly against his jugular. Gi-hun let out an embarrassingly high-pitched noise, eyes blinking up into the darkness in confusion. He felt In-ho's jaw at work as he mouthed at Gi-hun's neck, travelling up, leaving a wet trail that lead to the sweet spot underneath Gi-hun's jaw. In-ho sucked, and Gi-hun groaned, knees buckling.
A pair of footsteps stopped right outside the alley, and In-ho bit into Gi-hun's neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin. Gi-hun gasped, and his pants echoed and bounced from one wall of the alley to the other. One of the thugs squinted into the alcove, eyes widening at the sight of their blacked out silhouettes before him. He stumbled back, flustered, and continued to run down the street with the rest of his posse.
In-ho left another wet kiss along Gi-hun's jaw until the hunting footstep's faded into the far distance. With their chests pressed tightly together, Gi-hun only now just noticed the rapid berating of the other's heart, following a similar rhythm to his own.
In-ho's body slumped forward slightly, his head falling to rest in the nook of Gi-hun's neck. In-ho let out a breath of relief, the air fanning across Gi-hun's sweaty skin, eliciting a wave of goosebumps from him. He finally drew back, stepping away from Gi-hun and righting his own ruffled clothes.
The two paused for a long moment, simply staring.
"I still don't like you." In-ho squinted his eyes.
It took a second for the words to reach Gi-hun, and a few more seconds for him to properly understand them and think of a retort. "Feelings are mutual," he grumbled, but his tone lacked any bite—mainly just exasperation, as his shallow breaths had yet to return to normal.
In-ho nodded. "Good."
"Good," Gi-hun agreed.