p a r t  I ; 

Donghae pushed himself off the tarmac and continued running towards the black Mustang that had pulled up by the curb. He threw himself into the passenger seat, keeping the brown duffel bag tucked between the fingers of his dusty hand tightly.

“Drive.”

The car took off as soon as Donghae slammed the door shut, speeding down a winding road that would keep them away from the public eye. Hyukjae knew the route all too well; he knew a route that would throw any cop off guard and keep them at bay. The car sped in the direction of a multi storey car park hidden in an obscure part of the city, a place no one would suspect a pair of robbers to come to. Thank god the cops were far behind.

Hyukjae reversed the black Mustang into an empty lot. They clambered out of the car and ran up the stairs, running towards a white sedan in the corner of the fifth floor. I know how to break into cars, Hyukjae had explained to Donghae several weeks ago. No one would suspect or tail us if we switched cars after a robbery. We’ll break into a car and use it for the robbery, then we’ll ditch it for whatever car we can find in the car park.

Donghae took off his balaclava and groaned.

“Do we really have to wear a balaclava every time we do this?” He whined, tossing it to the back of the car. Hyukjae did the same, rubbing the skin on his neck that had turned red from chafing. They removed their gloves and stuffed them into the dashboard.

“We can’t let them see us,” Hyukjae said, stepping on the gas pedal. “You and I both know our tattoos would give us away.”

Donghae sighed. “Guess the tattoos weren’t such a good idea.”

“Ya think?”

The sedan moved out of the car park, seamlessly joining the other cars on a congested road in Seoul. As expected, they hadn’t been tailed by a single police car. Our cops are , Hyukjae had said after their first successful heist. Donghae laughed in response. I’m actually glad we made  it out of this one unscathed.

It wasn’t always like this, or at least, it wasn’t always this risky at the beginning of their shenanigans. Donghae was a quiet country boy who had just moved to the city for work, and Hyukjae? Hyukjae was a city boy that was always up to mischief, although the kind of mischief he’d been up to could possibly get him incarcerated. They crossed paths at the cafe Donghae used to work at. Hyukjae had noticed how Donghae would slyly stuff things into the pocket of his apron when no one was looking. None except Hyukjae, of course. The dysfunctional pair hit it off as soon as Hyukjae learnt that Donghae was a kleptomaniac, and he concluded it would be useful later on. And he was right.

“Feels like it took ing ages to get home,” Donghae grumbled, placing the brown duffel bag on the couch and slumping next to it, exhaling audibly.

Hyukjae pulled a chair out the dining table.

“I’m just glad we escaped before the cops could hunt us down,” he said, still rubbing the reddened skin on his neck. “Our heists are getting more and more dangerous. I like that, of course, but we’re going to have to think up a new plan. We can’t keep using the same methods. The cops will catch on.”

Donghae stared at his partner in awe. He knew that what Hyukjae had said was not particularly newsworthy, but he enjoyed seeing how frustrated Hyukjae got after each heist, and how meticulous he was in planning the next one. Between the two of them, a chore like that could only be taken on by Hyukjae. Donghae felt he wasn’t smart enough for that.

“I’ve been planning in advance,” Hyukjae said suddenly, breaking Donghae’s thought bubble apart. Hyukjae retrieved a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket and unfolded it. It was a map of, quite presumably, Seoul. Donghae got up and walked towards Hyukjae, leaning against the latter’s chair as he scanned the map. Hyukjae had marked several places in red marker.

Hyukjae hummed. “Let’s rob a jewellery store next.”

Donghae nodded silently and waited for Hyukjae to reveal the rest of the plan.

“I found another car park south of Seoul, near a store called Grafik Plastic. We’ll have to study the car park for a while though to, y’know, figure out which car we can break into.”

“Right,” was all Donghae could reply, considering he wasn’t entirely sure what Hyukjae had meant. Afterall, Hyukjae was the brain to their heists, and Donghae existed only to carry the plan out.

Hyukjae began trailing his finger down the red marker route.

“It’s at least twenty kilometres away from the nearest police station,” he remarked, smiling. “It’ll take them at least half an hour to get to the jewellery store. By the time they reach, we’ll be gone.”

“Why are we robbing a jewellery store though?” Donghae asked innocently, gathering his lips in a pout.

Hyukjae folded the map and placed it in his pocket. “We’ve been robbing banks, so it’s time to switch it up. We can’t let the cops figure out our pattern.”

“Right.”

Hyukjae removed his jacket. “Time to burn the evidence.”

Donghae followed suit, removing the outfit he’d worn during the robbery. In its place, he put on a white t-shirt and black sweatpants. After Hyukjae had changed out of his outfit, they left the house and walked towards the back of their bungalow, where a large incinerator bin stood.

“Goodbye, pretty bomber jacket.” Donghae said childishly as he tossed his clothes into the bin. Hyukjae did the same. He flicked a match and dropped it into the bin. In an instant, the insides of the bin went up in flames.

Hyukjae sighed. “I actually liked that outfit.”

“Ditto.”

“Oh well. Maybe next time we should wear really basic outfits, instead of going all fancy dressed in jackets and .”

Donghae frowned. “But you said it’s to throw off the cops.”

“Nah,” Hyukjae waved off. “ what I said. I was just trying to sound smart.”

“Oh.”

They retreated back to the house in silence as soon as the insides of the bin had turned to ash. Donghae moved towards the kitchen as Hyukjae locked the door behind them.

“Tea?” Donghae asked, shouting over his shoulder.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay.”

Donghae grabbed everything he needed off the kitchen shelf and began to fill a teapot with hot water. He dropped a tea bag into the pot and stirred with a teaspoon.

“I’m done, Hyukja—what the ?”

The tray of a pot and its teacups nearly tumbled to the ground as Donghae stared abashedly at the now - Hyukjae, lounging on the couch with a remote in his hand.

“What are you doing, Hyukjae?” Donghae asked, looking away from the couch as he set the tray onto the coffee table. Hyukjae grinned.

“Just needed to air myself,” he said coolly. “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen me anyway.”

“I haven’t seen you in two weeks, you prick.” Donghae said, his hands trembling as he poured tea into the cups. His ears had turned a fiery red. “You know what this does to me.”

“Exactly. I know what this does to you.”

“What’s your point?”

“Dunno,” Hyukjae shrugged, propping himself up with his elbows. “I just thought maybe…”

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe tonight we could celebrate our heist a special way,” Hyukjae whispered coquettishly, trailing a finger down Donghae’s shoulder.

“ off,” Donghae cussed, wriggling his shoulder free from Hyukjae’s touch. “Stop being such a tease.”

“Fine.” Hyukjae picked his shirt off the floor and began to dress up. “Your loss.”

Donghae squeezed next to Hyukjae on the couch and picked up a teacup, raising it to his lips. He sipped some of the tea, internally cursing himself for drinking it while it was still piping hot as he choked half to death.

After setting his cup down, Donghae turned to Hyukjae, pensive.

“Hyuk,” he called out softly.

“Yeah?”

“When do we stop?”

Hyukjae swung his legs off the couch and sat up, throwing Donghae a faint smile.

“We stop when we want to,” he said firmly. “Why the question? Do you want to stop?”

Donghae shook his head. “No. Well, at least not right now. I was just wondering.”

Hyukjae yanked his pants up to his waist, grinning smugly. “Good. Besides, we’ll have to wait a few weeks or months until we can carry out our next heist. If you want out at any time, just let me know, okay?”

“Okay.” Donghae snuck a soft kiss on the tattoo marking Hyukjae’s shoulder, biting it playfully. Hyukjae moved back, raising Donghae’s face by his chin.

“Stop.” Hyukjae said apathetically. “You know what this does to me.”

Donghae raised a brow and curled his lips upwards, pleased with the taunt he was about to dish out.

“Exactly,” he began in a mockish tone, “I know what it does to you.”

“ right off.”

“With pleasure.”

Thus concluded the end to their fifth successful heist in their two years of knowing one another. They spent the rest of the evening bathing in money, counting the wads of cash they fished out of the duffel bag and not forgetting to turn the bag to ash right after.

“What are we going to do with all this cash?” Donghae asked, tying a rubber band around a thick wad of bills. Hyukjae arranged the bills in a large silver suitcase and squeezed it shut.

“Whatever you wanna do,” he said simply, sliding the briefcase underneath their bed. “I’m thinking of donating a large sum of it.”

Donghae cocked his head. “So you rob banks to, uh, donate the money to charity? Is it just me or is there a conflict of morality here, a glitch in the system, a flaw in the—”

“I’m a robber, yes, but I’m not a bad person.” Hyukjae said impassively, shooting Donghae a look of contempt. Donghae decided to keep his lips shut tight; he knew better than to tease a cross Hyukjae. The man could kill when he was angry, not that he had, of course. He contemplated sleeping with the man to rid him of his hostility. Guess my morals are pretty ed too, Donghae thought to himself.

“I want a house by the beach,” he said aloud, attempting to change the subject. He exhaled when he saw Hyukjae’s expression soften.

“Then we’ll get a house by the beach,” Hyukjae echoed, pursing his lips.

“We?”

“Yeah, we. I mean, unless you think it’s a bad idea.”

Donghae weighed the pros and cons mentally, his facial expression a blank slate.

“Donghae?” Hyukjae snapped his fingers in front of his partner’s face. “Lee Donghae.”

“H-huh?” Donghae stammered, coughing sheepishly as he returned to reality. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea like, at all. I’d love to—” do I really “—live with you.”

See, the thing about their relationship was that they’d begun in the same predicament as a pair of colleagues in an office; awkward and paired only to get the job done with whatever they could offer to the table. Somewhere along the way, it was Donghae who developed feelings for his partner, only for Hyukjae to reciprocate only months after. Donghae didn’t know what to think of it though and he often wondered if Hyukjae only played along for the money and . He looked up to study Hyukjae’s delicate features as the latter stared right back at him.

“You don’t look too pleased, Donghae.” Hyukjae said sadly, biting his lip. Donghae grabbed Hyukjae’s shoulders and began to shake his head vigorously, frowning.

“No, Hyukjae, it’s not that. It’s just—” Donghae paused for a moment, “it’s just that I don’t know want to think of us. What the hell are we?”

Hyukjae gently removed Donghae’s hands and held them in his.

“We’re partners in crime,” he said softly.

“That’s it?” Donghae asked, frozen.

“I’m not done,” Hyukjae whispered, rubbing Donghae’s hands with his thumbs. “We’re partners in crime during our heists, but in every other aspect, we’re just partners. I am yours, and you are mine. Mm, unless you don’t want that.” He let go of Donghae’s hands and leaned back, showing no emotion in his expression.

A small part of Donghae still believed Hyukjae was only using him—for , for heists (considering how his kleptomania had developed into something far more dangerous) and maybe for companionship. Then again, it had been two years since they first crossed paths. Surely he wouldn’t have stuck around this long if all he wanted was money. Given his good looks, Donghae was sure Hyukjae could get and companionship out of anyone else. Perhaps he should give Hyukjae the benefit of doubt.

“Okay,” Donghae uttered, reaching for Hyukjae’s hands. “We’re whatever we want us to be.”

Hyukjae nodded, leaning forward to plant a fervent kiss on each tattoo that littered Donghae’s supple skin. Kisses turned to , Donghae soon found himself and vulnerable, with Hyukjae peppering his neck with hickeys against his own body. Donghae decided there and then that he could live with this.

The months rolled by like the waves of an ocean. In April, the pair found themselves sat on a bench in a park with papers and pens, planning their imminent heist. Hyukjae scribbled instructions onto a piece of paper, and Donghae observed as each of the pen formed a new word.

“Show me the car plate number,” Hyukjae instructed to which Donghae complied. He unlocked his phone and showed Hyukjae a picture of the front of a grey car they had decided to use for the heist. Hyukjae copied the number onto his paper. “Show me the other one.”

Donghae swiped the screen, showing another picture of a car plate, this time from a different car; a red convertible.

Hyukjae smiled. “Perfect. Let’s go through the routine so we both know what to do tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Donghae cleared his throat and crossed his legs. “Start.”

“So first off, we’ll get to the carpark around two in the afternoon and break into the grey car. We’ve pretty much established that the owner of the car doesn’t use it on Thursdays, so we’re good to go. I’ll memorise the car plate number so you don’t have to.” Hyukjae looked at the scribbles on the paper in his hand. “Once we get to the jewellery store, you walk in and fire a bullet—y’know, the usual stuff—and throw as much jewellery as you can into the bag. We’ll sell that on the black market. I’ll stop the car elsewhere and only drive to the front of the store fifteen minutes later, which I presume you—”

“I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, like I always have.” Donghae intercepted smugly.

Hyukjae nodded in acknowledgment. “Right. Remember not to say a single thing, lest someone’s recording that on a phone or something.”

“Okay. Wait. What about the CCTV camera?”

“Shoot at it. We both know where it’s located at. We didn’t visit the store with our ‘girlfriends’ three days ago for nothing. We need to get rid of as much evidence as we can. Can’t risk being traced.”

Donghae nodded his head, processing as much information as he could manage. This would be their sixth heist and Donghae had already grown accustomed to the routine by now, but he didn’t want to risk anything by missing out on any of Hyukjae’s details.

“What else?” Donghae asked.

Hyukjae shrugged. “I think that’s pretty much it. I’ll take care of the rest. In a situation where a security guard tries tackling you over—”

“Shoot at his foot, no killing. Got it, Hyukjae.”

“Great!” Hyukjae exclaimed. He folded the piece of paper that he had scribbled on, kissed it and placed it in his wallet. “Let’s hope everything goes as planned.”

“It will. It always has, anyway.” Donghae remarked, to which Hyukjae shook his head.

“Can’t be too complacent,” he reminded. “Every heist is different. I mean, yes, this time we’re robbing a small store south of Seoul, but we can’t take any chances.”

Donghae nodded. “Gotcha.” He looked over his shoulder, peering at a diner on the other side of the road. “Now can we please get something to eat? A crook needs his fuel.”

“Yep, let’s go.”

Mask? Check. Gloves? Check. Glocks? Check. Bag? Check. Donghae looked around, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. He stuffed his items into the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. Behind him, Hyukjae was stuffing his balaclava and gloves into the pocket of a cheap jacket he’d gotten off a sweatshop.

“Ready to go?” He asked, strapping a gun to his leg.

Donghae nodded. “Ready. Let’s go.”

The ride to the jewellery store was oddly relaxing. The grey car cruised along the street at an alarming speed, but with Hyukjae’s smooth driving, it felt like a feather floating in still air.

Donghae quickly pulled on his balaclava and gloves as soon as the car came to a halt.

“Good luck,” Hyukjae asserted before dashing off to make rounds within the neighbourhood while waiting for Donghae to finish the job. He could hear the firing of a gun as he drove off, and in some sort of sadistic, villainous way, it made him smile.

Inside the store, Donghae had fired a shot at the store’s CCTV camera tucked away in the corner of the store, before pointing two glocks at a man behind the counter and his two colleagues, throwing his duffle bag onto the glass encasing all sorts of jewellery. Thank god the store was empty, aside from the man and his colleagues had frozen, stifling their cries for help lest Donghae shot at them. Donghae took the chance to check himself. CCTV? Shot. Thank god I didn’t shout anything; almost shat myself preventing my from talking. He watched as the man emptied cases full of jewellery into the bag. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes. Time’s almost up. After being content with the amount of jewellery the man had dumped into the duffel bag, Donghae zipped it up swiftly and slung it over his shoulder, strolling over to the exit when he heard a shaky voice from behind him say “I c-called the cops. They’re on the w-way.”

. . As soon as he exited the store he realised that Hyukjae hadn’t returned with the grey car either, so he was practically stranded, left as bait for the cops. Donghae panicked. He looked left and right, flustered as he thought of a new plan. He contemplated ditching the balaclava and gloves and running, when out of nowhere, someone tugged his arm and dragged him over to a nearby alleyway, resisting his struggles to break free. Donghae almost screamed out of reflex, until he felt a hand tightly pressed against mouth.

“Shut up.” It was Hyukjae. “Get rid of your mask and gloves. Hide the duffel bag in this paper bag. I heard police sirens so I ditched the car after realising there was a CCTV camera outside the jewellery store too. Must’ve missed that detail out. Plan ing B.”

Donghae quickly did as told, ripping off his mask and gloves, and stuffing them into the duffel bag. He did the same with his guns, thereafter stuffing the duffel bag into the large paper shopping bag Hyukjae had gotten from god knows where.

“Act natural,” Hyukjae reminded as they peeled off their cheap jackets and tossed them into a bin. They walked down the alleyway and exited via the other end, regaining composure. They entered a toy store and pretended to look around.

“Need any help?” A petite lady, presumably a sales assistant, asked. Both Hyukjae and Donghae jumped back out of shock.

“Jesus,” Hyukjae cried out, rubbing his chest in a bid to calm his racing heart. “I mean, uh, yeah. I need a present for my eight-year-old nephew. Any suggestions?”

The lady led them down an aisle. Hyukjae pretended to be attentive, while Donghae was just.. in awe of his partner’s quick wits. Hyukjae ended up buying a little mechanical robot of sorts as a guise (a small price to pay, really), and Donghae ended up closing his gaping, awe-stricken mouth. They exited the store after bidding the lady goodbye, walking down the pavement hand in hand.

“How are we going to get home?” Donghae asked.

Hyukjae laughed. “By bus, like any normal, car-less Korean would.”

“Oh, right.”

The commute home was a silent one. Donghae sat by the window with the large paper shopping bag nestled on his lap, staring at the scenery that glided by him. His eyes were fixated on the window, but his mind was anywhere but here.

What have I gotten myself into? He asked himself, his dry lips. How did things get this serious? Why did I agree to this? He looked at his partner—a crook, a “lover”, a man nodding off to sleep—and sighed. This is way worse than my kleptomaniac tendencies.

“Hyukjae.”

ZzzZzzzz.

“Hyukjae.” Donghae called out again, this time nudging Hyukjae in the rib.

Hyukjae blinked his eyes open and began to slur. “What the—what is it Hae?”

“We’re here,” Donghae said, reaching out to press the bell.

The door screeched to a halt at a bus stop roughly two kilometres east of their house.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae called out softly as they trudged down the steep pavement home. Hyukjae looked at his partner with raised brows.

“Yeah?”

Donghae tread his words carefully. “I think I want out.”

They stopped in their tracks. Donghae swallowed (he shuddered at the fleeting thought of Hyukjae firing a gun at him). Instead, Hyukjae sighed, shaking his head.

“I knew you’d want out eventually,” he deadpanned. “Didn’t expect it to be today, and right after a heist at that. It’d be selfish of me to deny you, though.”

Donghae took a step back. “Wait, so you’re not upset with me?”

“Why would I be?” Hyukjae laughed, pressing his lips together. “It’s not like I can force you to do something against your will. I did say we’d stop when you want to.”

“You said we,” Donghae correct. “You said we’d stop when we want to.”

“You, me, us, we, what does it matter?”

“It matters!”

“I don’t think so.”

“It does! It has to be mutual!”

Hyukjae grinned. “Why, are you afraid I’d shoot you if I didn’t agree to it?”

“I, uh, what?” Donghae stuttered, a chill running down his spine. “I didn’t say that.”

“But do you think I would?” Hyukjae asked, smiling evilly. He watched as Donghae darted his eyes nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. He waited a few more seconds for a reaction that never came.

Hyukjae sighed. “I wouldn’t do that. Not to you, at least.”

“Not to me?” Donghae reiterated. “So you’d do it to anyone else, given the same circumstances?”

“Why do you think I chose you to be my partner in crime, huh?” Hyukjae scoffed, mockingly of course. “Had to find a replacement after killing off all of my ex-partners. Had to silence ‘em.” Hyukjae watched as Donghae’s adam’s apple bobbed. He resisted the urge to laugh.

“Hyukjae, I….I don’t know what to say..”

“I’m kidding, Hae, relax.” Hyukjae reassured as he placed a hand on the small of Donghae’s shoulder. “I’ve never had a partner before you. I’m not even kidding.”

Donghae frowned. Hearing that didn’t exactly feel reassuring, honestly. It only meant that if Hyukjae had the willpower to kill him, he would, and the thought of that scared him. He crammed his lips shut and began walking ahead of Hyukjae.

“I have never wanted to be home as much as I did tonight,” Hyukjae announced as he pushed a key into the door handle.

They entered the house gingerly, slightly paranoid about getting caught (even though they’d done this five times before). Donghae set the giant paper bag on the couch and left to take a swig of water in the kitchen. Hyukjae, on the other hand, removed the guns from the paper bag slowly.

“Hyukjae, I just wanna—holy !”

Donghae cowered, diving behind the couch as Hyukjae hung a gun from his index finger loosely.

“Relax, Hae, I’m just putting it away, geez.” Hyukjae placed the glock on the coffee table, putting his hands up as soon as it hit the surface.

“Hae, for goodness sake, I’m not going to hurt you!”

Donghae peeked at him from behind the couch. “You sure?”

“Yes, Donghae, I’m sure.”

Donghae pushed himself off the floor and dusted his hands. “Good. You scared the living out of me.”

Hyukjae smiled. “I’m not a monster. You need to stop thinking I’ll hurt you, because I won’t.”

All Donghae heard was I’ll hurt you, and he hated himself for it. He hated himself for only selectively hearing things, and for overthinking everything. He forced a smile and disappeared into the bedroom to change out of his outfit and resume their routine of burning evidence. Hyukjae thought nothing of it.

“So you want out,” Hyukjae said as he dropped a lit match into the incinerator bin. “Could you tell me why the change of heart?”

Donghae drew his knees to his chest. “Honestly, I don’t know.” He watched as Hyukjae returned to his side, sitting on the grass at the back of their bungalow. “I guess it just….it just bothered me how things are getting more and more dangerous. It bothered me how I’m only entangled in this mess because you found out I’m a klepto.”

Hyukjae didn’t know what to say, so he stared at the smoke rising from the incinerator bin. He waited for his mind to form a coherent string of words and thoughts.

“I’m sorry if this makes you feel bad or something,” Donghae apologised, bowing his head. “I guess I’m only just starting to question my morals after two years of robbing and .”

Hyukjae shook his head. “Nah, you don’t have to apologise for anything. I’m the one that roped you into this.”

“No, Hyukjae, that’s not what I meant. I played along willingly. You didn’t rope me into anything—”

“No, no, I did. I should be the one saying sorry, Hae. I’m sorry.”

Donghae frowned. There were a few questions that he was itching to ask, but he didn’t know how to. Unfortunately for him, Hyukjae was good at reading expressions.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Hyukjae noted, studying his partner’s face. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Right.”

“You’re still not telling me anything, Hae.”

“Nope.” Are you using me? Have I been blind for two years? Do you really have feelings for me or do you just stick around so I can do the dirty work for you? I need answers.

“There’s something you wanna know.”

“Yes.” I need answers.

Hyukjae reached his hand out, cupping Donghae’s face and rubbing his chin with his thumb.

“Then ask away,” he said softly.

Donghae’s forehead creased, and the frown remained overt. “I just want to know if you stick around only because you can use me.”

Hyukjae furrowed a brow. “Haven’t we been through this, Hae? Didn’t I tell you that I’m yours, and you are mine?”

Donghae sighed.

“Is that not enough of an answer, Hae?”

“No,” Donghae admitted. “I’ve had these questions since about four months after knowing you.”

“Questions?”

“Yeah, questions. Will you really drop anything for me, especially since I want out? Or will you continue going down this path alone?”

Hyukjae pursed his lips. “Y’know what? I don’t know. I’ve never thought about any of this. I though we, you, were content with what we had.”

“The line between partners in crime and lovers is really clear. I can’t be both.”

“Then don’t.” Hyukjae deadpanned. “Choose one.”

“I already have!” Donghae said, raising his voice. “I told you I want out, but what’s the point if you carry on with these heists on your own?”

“I’ll just hire someone else to help me with these heists. When I’m not busy robbing a bank, I’m yours—all yours.”

“It’s just….weird. Everything feels so weird. It has been for the last two years, but I chose to keep mum because you never raised this topic. How am I supposed to feel? How can I not feel like you’re using me?”

“God, Donghae, you think too much!” Hyukjae (almost) shouted, ramming a fist into the ground. “Feelings are just that—feelings! Don’t let them get in the way of work!”

“Robbing isn’t work, Hyukjae.”

“Well, it is for me.” Hyukjae said, ripping grass out of the ground. “I’ve never told you this but my family lives in Gangwon Do. They’re poor, so after each heist we pull off, I send some money home discreetly. So this is my job.”

Donghae was at a loss for words. He couldn’t even meet Hyukjae eye to eye. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

“I know doing this makes me a criminal, but my family really needs the money,” Hyukjae continued. “They don’t know I’m doing this. All they know is that I’m working, and that I’ve been sending money to support them.”

“Then why did you choose to rob instead of just getting a proper job?” Donghae asked innocently. He wasn’t sure if Hyukjae was willing to explain himself, but he decided he’d give it a shot anyway.

“My little brother has cancer and my family can’t afford to pay for his chemotherapy, that’s why. No proper, minimum wage job could pay the expenses. I’m not proud of being a crook but it’s all I could think of.”

Donghae lolled his head, resting it on Hyukjae’s shoulder.

“You should’ve told me that from the start,” he whispered.

“You should’ve asked me.” Hyukjae countered. “I’d have come clean from the start if you did.”

They sat in silence and watched the thick smoke leave the bin for a while.

“Y’know, when we’re not pulling heists,” Hyukjae began, “you’re actually really, really adorable.”

“Touché.”

“I love you.”

Donghae straightened his back. “What?”

“I said I love you,” Hyukjae repeated. “I know I should’ve said this sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Donghae said sadly. “This doesn’t change anything though. I still want out.”

“I know.”

“And I love you.”

Hyukjae sighed. “I know.”

The next few weeks moved as calmly as tufts of cloud on a windy day. Hyukjae and Donghae mostly spent their time entangled in each other, considering they were each other’s only companions.

Every now and then, Donghae would try coaxing his lover into leaving the heisting behind.

“We could go somewhere and start anew,” he’d said, “we have enough money for that. We could go home to your family. C’mon, Hyukjae.”

“I know,” Hyukjae would say in response. “But I can’t leave this place until I’m sure the cops have given up chasing us. I don’t want my family to learn that I’ve been committing crimes to help them.”

It was hard arguing with Hyukjae’s excuse, so most times Donghae would leave it be. Instead he would reply with no more than hums, skin to skin, bodies pressed together moving in perfect harmony.

Then came a day when Hyukjae decided to change his mind.

“You’re right,” he said, caressing Donghae’s face with his thumb. “I need to stop before things get worse. Let’s leave this town and never come back.”

“Okay,” Donghae said simply.

“Okay,” Hyukjae echoed.

Hyukjae sat up and reached for something in the bedside drawer. He unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to Donghae.

“If anything happens to either of us, here’s my home address. No snitching. If one of us gets caught, the other returns home with half the money. Leave some behind as evidence, otherwise the cops will probe for more information.” He pushed the little piece of paper into Donghae’s hands. “My mother knows about you, so it should be fine. I sent a picture of us in one of my letters home. If one of us goes to jail, the other isn’t allowed to visit. Head straight home in Gangwon Do. Got it?”

Donghae nodded. “Got it.”

Donghae reached out for his wallet and slid the piece of paper in one of its slots. He turned to Hyukjae. “Wait, if you get caught, wouldn’t I have to tell your family why you’re in jail?”

Hyukjae sighed. “You’re right. Come clean with them then.”

“But what happens if we both get caught?”

“Then we’ll meet each other after doing our time,” Hyukjae answered, holding Donghae’s hand.

Donghae didn’t know what to make of any of this. The thought of getting caught scared the living out of him, but he tried his best not to think of it. It still felt weird to him—that Hyukjae had started to rob in order to help his family, that Hyukjae had, in his own words, roped him into being his partner, that Hyukjae really loved him—but again, he tried to pay no mind to any of it.

“I promise not to snitch,” Donghae mumbled, resisting the urge to overthink.

“Good,” Hyukjae said, smiling. “We’ll find a way to run away together.”

But Lady Luck was not on their side.

“I’m not sure if the owner got his car back,” Hyukjae said, frowning a week later. “But if he did, I want my mask and gloves back.”

“Didn’t you say you’d stop robbing? Why do you want them back?” Donghae groaned, turning on his side.”

Hyukjae paused, thoughtful. “I don’t know. Do you think the owner found them and handed them to the police or something?”

“Only one way to find out, huh.”

“Should I look for the car?”

Donghae sat up. “Hell no. Don’t even think about it.”

“But Hae,” Hyukjae began. “I want my stuff back. And besides, maybe he hasn’t found them.”

“They’re not worth risking our cover, Hyuk, you know that!”

The tension between them heightened, both of them staring at each other in silence. Hyukjae softened, curling his lips up in a smile.

“You're right,” he agreed, much to Donghae’s confusion. “They aren’t worth risking our cover.”

Donghae eyed his partner suspiciously. “I hope you aren’t saying this just to appease me.”

“I’m not.” Hyukjae reassured.

Unbeknownst to Donghae, however, Hyukjae had planned to return to the car park later that afternoon under the guise that he was going to get groceries. Nothing could come in between Hyukjae and his stubbornness, but only he knew why it mattered so much to him. Aside from the gloves and balaclava, Hyukjae had forgotten a little velvet box that he’d put in the dashboard of the car (he knew he should’ve left it at home, how could he have forgotten) and he wanted it back. The box was special; in it sat a customised ring that he wanted to gift Donghae with. It wasn’t exactly a proposal or anything; just a promise.

Hyukjae took a bus down and reached the car park a half an hour later, running up the stairs to the fifth floor. Much to his surprise, the car was there in the same lot in pristine condition—as if it had never been part of the sixth heist at all. He walked towards it, darting his eyes to make sure no one saw him, before breaking into the car the way he had the last time. He reached into the dashboard and sighed contentedly when his fingers rubbed against the velvet square, but as he pulled the box out, he heard heavy breathing coming from behind him. He turned around.

“I lost my job because of you,” the man shouted. Hyukjae found him vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite recall who he was. Then it hit him. . Jewellery store. The one time he’d seen the man was when he visited the store with Donghae and their “girlfriends”, to figure out where the CCTV cameras were. He was the owner of the car. He was the man Donghae robbed. Everything fell into place.

“I knew it was you,” he said, his voice shaking as he stood with his hands behind his back. “I recognised you in the footage from my dashcam, how you broke into my car the same Thursday the store got robbed. I remembered how you and your friend had tattoos all over your body. I—I just knew it was you.”

Hyukjae straightened his back and stepped back.

“Easy there, mister,” he said softly, reaching into his jacket for his gun.

Out of nowhere, the man brandished a knife and lunged towards Hyukjae in an attempt to stab him, when a loud boom echoed through the air. Hyukjae dropped his gun. I shot him, he thought. I ing shot him. Hyukjae kept his gun and box in the pocket of his jacket and ran out of the car park, flagging a taxi to hurry home.

“Pack your things,” he said as calmly as he could the moment he set foot in the house.

“Wha—”

“I SAID PACK YOUR THINGS!”

Donghae frowned, following Hyukjae into their bedroom. Hyukjae had begun to throw all of Donghae’s clothing into a large suitcase, making sure to erase as much evidence of Donghae as he could. He opened the silver briefcase under the bed and moved some of the thick wads into Donghae’s large suitcase.

“I shot him, Donghae, I shot him!” Hyukjae yelled frantically. “I shot the owner of the car! The guy who works at the jewellery store, I shot him! !”

Donghae joined Hyukjae, scrambling about for his things.

“They’re going to catch me,” Hyukjae said, almost sobbing. “They’re going to find the footage from his dashcam and know it’s me who killed him.”

Donghae didn’t know what to say, so he remained tight lipped. Inside, he was panicking as much as Hyukjae, but he hid it for fear that it’d make Hyukjae feel worse. He helped Hyukjae pack up.

“Go to Gangwon Do,” Hyukjae uttered, his voice shaking with fear. “Go and never come back.”

He shoved Donghae towards the door with the suitcase in tow. Donghae’s mind was in utter chaos. All he could think of was to flag a taxi, head to the airport and book himself a flight to Gangwon Do, just like they’d discussed weeks ago in case one of them was caught. Hyukjae shoved a box into Donghae’s pocket.

“Leave, Donghae, leave!” He yelled, pushing Donghae out the door. “Just go!”

Donghae dragged the suitcase onto the main road and waved his hand, stopping a taxi. He lugged his suitcase into the boot and climbed into the backseat, ordering the driver to head for the airport. He looked behind at the lonely bungalow, sullen at the thought that he couldn’t even properly say goodbye. He wondered how long it would be until he saw Hyukjae again.

Hyukjae couldn’t focus. He took his wallet and keys—he couldn’t think of what else to take—and slipped a cartridge of bullets into his pocket. Then he made a run for it. He didn’t know where he was going, or how long he’d hide. He didn’t know if running was an answer, to be honest, or if he should just turn himself in. Several blocks down, he gave up. He decided to turn himself in, deciding that maybe it would lessen his sentence. Falling to his knees, he let the tears roll down his face, sobbing aloud. I’m so sorry.