“It’s simple enough, what’s there to worry about?”

“Aren’t you being a little too ambitious? A vendor on the street and a few rich old ladies at a bar is one thing, but this… this is something entirely new.”

“You worry too much.”

“Well, one of us has too.”

It’s the same argument they’ve had time and again. Ryeowook had grown used to it; he’d become accustomed to Hyukjae’s ever-present left eye twitch and his constant feeling that something was bound to go wrong. It’d been the same since they were teenagers and living on the streets, picking pockets to survive and huddling together under sodden cardboard when it rained. They’d grown together – thick as thieves in every sense of the term. Only it had started to be harder to operate when one half of their dynamic duo feared that this time wouldn’t be as easy as the last.

It took all of Ryeowook’s patience to level Hyukjae with a careful stare and a firm squeeze on the other’s closed fist.

“Trust me.”

At this point in their lives, trust in each other was all they had.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Ryeowook didn’t mean to end up making deals with people he shouldn’t have. He didn't go out looking for them, however, in exchange for not getting the beaten out of him, he accepted a couple of “jobs” that he knew he couldn’t do alone. He didn’t tell Hyukjae the truth behind the things they had started doing. Even if he did, that was the least of their problems. He simply gave the blond a reassuring smile and told him that the little ventures were going to mean big bucks. It was going to mean Hyukjae could finally buy that damn dog he’d been fawning over since they walked past the pet shop a month ago.

It was sad the way Ryeowook manipulated Hyukjae and it wasn't because Hyukjae was stupid; he was smart in his own way. He was just stupid for having complete faith in Ryeowook.

They walked down the street, two twenty-something’s who looked like out of work kids in need of a good night’s rest. Hyukjae’s stress and agitation were clear in his posture and nearing dripping from the tips of his twitching fingers. Ryeowook bit his tongue lest he lashed out because it wasn't like they had never done things like this before. How many pieces of jewelry, pocket books, and countless designer bags had they lifted off people? They were hardly amateurs and Hyukjae acted like a in a shop.

“Stop.” Ryeowook held out his hand, the flat of his palm coincidentally landing above Hyukjae’s thudding heart. “Relax. Look at me.”

Hyukjae’s eyes came down slightly to gaze into Ryeowook’s until he had managed to calm down. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Are you ready?” Hyukjae nodded. “Let’s go.”

They should have stopped after those little “favors” Ryeowook had to carry out were complete but there was a certain rush in it all. The way their adrenalin pumped and the cheap thrill of evoking fear as they danced out of jewelry shops and banks, completely unknown and without a trace. Even Hyukjae had to admit that he enjoyed the rush and the pounding in his chest of raw excitement.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Lee Sungmin sat at his desk thoroughly exhausted and mentally spent. He’d been working the robbery cases for six months and the best lead he had was that the two robbers were young, extremely attractive, and small. Well, that about summed up nearly 700 young men in the greater Seoul area alone. Dubbed the “Angel Face Robbers” by the media, the duo had moved up from small shoplifting charges to outright grand theft auto and had somehow managed to clean out every ATM machine in a five-mile radius. Witnesses said both men seemed to be in their early twenties, hair color never the same two times in a row.

Sungmin had followed impossible leads, taking him into back alleys, talking to drug dealers and hookers; finding nothing. He’d driven in the boroughs of Busan, Incheon, and even up to the border, idly wondering why the hell he would follow such false leads. His superiors were beginning to ride his about this case; it should have been easy – open and shut – and yet this was turning into some cancerous welt on his career.

Ridiculous didn’t even begin to cover this case.

“Yah! Lee!”

Sungmin looked up slowly, anticipating the mouth-full he was about to be treated to from his supervisor. “Yes, sir?”

Kim Heechul gave him an irate glare with his large, wild eyes. “Give me everything you have on the robberies. They’re being transferred.”

Sungmin sat up straight, shaking his head. He knew he hadn’t done much on this case but it was his case. He had sacrificed countless hours and his sanity trying to find the suspects. For this case to be ripped from his grasp wasn’t just a slap in the face, it was nearly physical anguish. He wanted to find these people, he wanted to see to it that they were arrested, tried, and convicted of theft, aggravated and armed robbery. They were his!

“But, sir!” Sungmin protested, heat flaring in his cheeks.

Heechul shook head and held out his hand. “Just give me the damn files, Sungmin. It’s not our department’s problem anymore.”

“How can it not be our problem? We handle this crap! This is my case, Heechul!”

Heechul rolled his eyes and leaned into Sungmin’s desk, annoyed at having to explain himself. “Last night, your crooks added murder to their rap. This case is going to homicide now and we don’t have to deal with this anymore. At least it’ll get Donghee off my back about what you lack as a detective.”

It was a stinging bite to Sungmin’s pride but he slid the files over to Heechul nonetheless. He was incensed over the comment about his abilities and now, more than ever, his determination to prove it to these s had sparked and lit a deadly flame within him. Heechul give him a weathered smirk and stalked off, undoubtedly to homicide where Park Jungsoo, city-wide criminal detective mastermind, would take Sungmin’s case.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Hyukjae shuddered as he scrubbed his hands, ignoring Choco yapping at his feet. The animal was probably starving but Hyukjae felt unclean. He hadn’t done it. No, he hadn’t. He was just there and he helped. His conscience – or what was left of it – was threatening to suffocate him with guilt. He was nearing the end of a treacherously strained rope, stepping ever closer to kissing a mental breakdown.

Never had he assumed they’d go this far in their little endeavors.

It amazed him to watch Ryeowook sit at their rickety kitchen table and count their bounty like they were some sort of everyday earnings. Their pay was marred with a woman’s screams and a dead body rolled up like simple garbage that needed disposal. Hyukjae had to question whether Ryeowook even had a soul anymore.

“I-I need to go to see the store,” Hyukjae muttered under his breath, reaching for his coat.

Ryeowook looked over his shoulder, eyes dim with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I just n-need some medicine. I’ll be back i-in a while.”

“Alright. Don’t forget your key.”

Hyukjae nodded and left, ignoring his dog barking behind the door because he just couldn’t deal with the volume of noise in his own mind, let alone Ryeowook’s nonchalance and the damn dog.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Ryeowook was much more perceptive than Hyukjae has ever given him credit for. He saw everything and could read the older man like a book. He knew Lee Hyukjae from cover to cover; pages even dog-eared from study and marking where each stuttered or sly glance had ever taken place and for what reason. It was almost eerie the way Ryeowook understood him, better than Hyukjae grasped himself.

Therefore, it wasn’t hard for Ryeowook to see Hyukjae clawing at his own mind, trying to rid himself of those images of an old woman screaming over her husband’s body as she came into their modest home on beach front property. It was an unfortunate situation; that much was admitted by Ryeowook, but he would not take the blame for something that wasn’t intentional. It was self defense: the man had attacked them.

It was backwards logic in its rawest form.

Ryeowook had convinced himself that the action of robbing the man out of house and home was nothing more than a job, a way to make it from day-to-day. Neither Hyukjae nor Ryeowook had any intent to harm, they never had. Shim something or other, had charged at Hyukjae with a kitchen knife. Animalistic nature tells people to protect themselves from harm. Instinct had taken over, and in the end, it was the nameless Shim that lay in a pool of his own blood.

Ryeowook had cleaned the old man’s home out of anything that had worth, leaving Hyukjae on the couch in a stupor until the man’s wife had come home, unleashing a blood curdling scream. She had seen Hyukjae’s profile and that was enough for Ryeowook to bash in her the side of the head with a candle holder. If she wasn’t dead too, he knew she wouldn’t remember a damn thing.

Hyukjae worried too much.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Ryeowook greeted Choi Siwon with a tight smile, taking a seat across the table in a modest little bar. Hopes that they would never meet again didn’t convey into real life, and Ryeowook cursed having to sit here as Siwon laid out his ego-driven plans. Before, when their arrangements had started, Siwon merely asked small things: minor treasures that he was too prideful to take himself. Now, Siwon knew Ryeowook and Hyukjae to be more brazen and daring. He pushed their limits. He’d requested their services because he knew what they had done. It wasn’t news to those who listened to the right stations that those two boys who robbed people blind had killed someone.

“Did you find what I asked for?” Siwon asked, his voice low and tempered. Ryeowook resisted the urge to rolls his eyes and slid an envelope under the table. It was long and white, containing serial numbers and identification certificates. Ryeowook didn’t care why Siwon needed them.

The transaction is fast and smooth, unnoticed by anyone else. Siwon stood up to leave, nodding curtly at Ryeowook. “We’re done.”

“Thank God,” Ryeowook mumbled to himself, walking to the bar and wrapping his knuckles against the surface. He ordered another drink and stood against the bar’s edge, almost oblivious to the man sitting two seats down.

He was nursing a glass of wine, savoring it. An odd sight in that part of the city but the man looked down on his luck. Probably one that the world had . Unsure of his movements, Ryeowook took the seat beside the stranger and ordered him another glass of whatever he had already been sipping.

“Rough day?”

“Got fired,” the stranger answered, forgetting that he had been trying to savor his wine like a grand connoisseur. “Thanks for the drink,” he added, manners coming as an afterthought.

“Don’t mention it.” Ryeowook clinked the lip of his beer bottle against the stranger’s wine glass. The other man gave him a wry smile and sipped his dark wine.

The two sat in silence, watching the plasma TV in the corner report an update on the recent robberies in the city. Cockily, Ryeowook chuckled, finishing his beer and shaking his head. “They’ll never find them,” he mused, forgetting that he was not sitting alone.

“Oh? Why do you think that?”

Ryeowook titled his head to the side, debating if he should tread dangerous waters or remain an oblivious eleven o’clock news watcher. He chose a storyline somewhere in the middle. “From what I’ve seen, they’re smart and out of their minds at the same time. They commit these robberies in plain sight yet no one’s caught them. They’re obvious and elusive. Not that I’d like to be robbed or anything, but it’s impressive.”

The stranger’s features twisted for a second before settling into a grim line and he forced the remainder of his wine down his throat. “Yes, they’re ing brilliant, aren’t they?” he bit out snidely. “Such great, impressive people? They killed someone. There’s nothing impressive about that.”

“Whoa,” Ryeowook whistled lowly, shaking his head slightly. “They killed someone? Did you know the person who was killed? You seem really, I don’t know, shaken up over it.”

“I didn’t have to know the person,” the man rubbed his palms into his eyes, speaking through barely moving lips. “It’s bad enough that they were taking people’s money and belongings. They took someone’s life.”

“What’s your name?” Ryeowook asked, sliding the comment off.

The stranger pulled his hands away from his eyes and held out a hand, “Lee Sungmin. Yourself?”

“Kim Ryeowook. Let’s order you soju. Wine isn’t what you need right now,” Ryeowook decided.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Talking to one’s own self wasn’t so bad, Hyukjae knew everyone talked to themselves sometimes. It was a stress relief method; it was a way to just let it all out without the pressure of being judged by another. It was like confessing sins to someone who wasn’t really there to hear them. And, despite the constant urge to find a church and tell a person of faith his transgressions, he knew he couldn’t. Everything he had said and done had been at his own will. He was never forced to do anything. Ryeowook had never forced him to take that woman’s purse in the park, he had never told him to hot wire that sports car and drive out to the coast at dangerous speeds.

No, those were things Hyukjae allowed himself to do on his own conscience, of his own deciding.

He sat on the roof of some apartment building miles from where he lived with Ryeowook. The words poured out of him, coupled with salty tears and trickles of uncontrolled saliva as he spoke to the wind. Apologies, pleads for forgiveness, retribution, anything that would make him feel better. But there wasn’t anything that would make him feel better because Hyukjae would live with himself and his crimes until he died.

There it was: that simple word that could make this all end. Sitting in dark contemplation on his own was bad, yet it was the only way he could find some solace. There was always the option of death.

Hyukjae stood and walked to the ledge, peering cautiously over the edge. It wasn’t a long fall - seven floors. The impact would probably be enough to shut up the nagging voice in his head that was beating him into remorseful catatonia. He stepped up, standing on the narrow bricks. The sun was fading quickly but it still blinded him. He held a hand to his eyes to shield himself from the bright glare. A breeze wiped around him, making his thin frame sway slightly. “One wrong move,” he whispered to himself.

“Is it really worth it?”

Hyukjae’s head snapped to the side and he saw another man standing on the roof, a cigarette clipped between his thin lips. The stranger moved closer, no apprehension or intention to show Hyukjae he was ‘a friend.’ He moved to stand near Hyukjae’s knees, drawling the tobacco stick from his lips and tutting as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

“That looks like it’d ing hurt.”

“Probably,” Hyukjae nodded, still looking down at the ground. It was an empty alley, not even a trash can in sight. He could jump, die, and lay there for days. He’d be decomposing by the time someone found him. Ryeowook would worry though, or so Hyukjae liked to think. “It’d be instantaneous though, right?” he asked, half to himself and half to the person beside him.

The man gave a grunt and Hyukjae caught a shoulder shrug in his peripheral vision. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s not that high. I mean, you’d have gravity and concrete on your side. That’s if you’re lucky... if life hates you, you might lay there for a few hours in the worst pain. Probably worse that the bull about labor that my mother used to spew.”

Hyukjae looked at him, perplexed. He was somewhere near 5’9, broad shoulders and a wide chest. His shirt was ed and flashing both skin and black muscle shirt, suspenders keeping the dress shirt pressed to his torso. His tie was hanging around his neck, and his left hand was shoved in his pocket. The thing that really caught Hyukjae’s attention was that the man wasn’t ever looking at him, or at the ground. He was staring into the now diminishing sunlight.

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m...”

“Well, ‘I’m,’ get off the ing ledge and let’s go get dinner. I’m starving.”

“I... no, I’m... my name isn’t ‘I’m’… it’s… my name’s Hyukjae,” he stammered, looking anywhere but at the man who had flicked his cigarette over the side of the building. They watched the dim glow of the stick as it fell through the air, landing on the ground and bouncing before settling and dying out.

“That could have been you,” the stranger told him. “I’m Donghae.”

Hyukjae kept looking at the dark alley way, completely lost before Donghae’s voice broke him out of his reverie.

“Hyukjae! I’m hungry. Hurry up!”

Hours later, when Hyukjae finally stumbled into his and Ryeowook’s apartment, slightly riding a high from having spent the better part of the last five hours with Donghae. The other man gave him a thrill that he usually only got when he and Ryeowook were doing something they weren’t supposed to – when they were robbing banks and high jacking expensive cars for joyrides.

He had completely forgotten everything that was plaguing his mind for those few hours and it was incredible. The memory of an accidental death and the horrible feelings that had consumed him were gone so long as he thought about Donghae and how the other made him laugh. It had been far too long since he had the opportunity to laugh like that.

Feeling guilty for having left and returning so late, without so much as an impromptu phone call to Ryeowook, Hyukjae detoured to Ryeowook’s room to give the other a sincere apology. He poked his head into the room, smiling gently to soften the scowl the he knew to be on Ryeowook’s face, only to withdraw quickly and go to his own room, slamming the door behind him.

There was an inexplicable tightness in his chest and the image of a Ryeowook’s thin arm draped over a pale, bare, waist had burned itself into his mind.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Donghae worked from seven in the morning to six in the afternoon. He had a good paying job working for the city. His salary was adequate enough to move himself and his mother into a modest home near the river. He had worried about her constantly since his father passed away and his brother went career with his military aspirations. He felt better knowing she was safe and sound living with him.

When the robberies had started to really shake the city, he made sure to tell his mother to carry pepper spray with her if she had to leave the house, otherwise to stay in and call him if she needed anything. He didn’t mind stopping on his way home to get her something she needed. He’d rather she be safe than mugged while walking home from the grocery store. She had agreed with no protests, not entertaining the idea of being robbed either.

It was when he had walked into The Seoul Police Station, having arrived to work a little later than normal because he had taken his mother to a doctor’s appointment, on a slow Wednesday morning and his partner was in the Chief’s office along with Kim Heechul from the Robberies, Theft, and Fraud Division that Donghae’s curiosity was piqued. When Park Jungsoo, Donghae’s partner for a little more than a month, figuratively dipping with certificates and medals of merit, slapped a heavy folder on Donghae’s desk the reality of the robberies really sunk in.

“Remember those robberies that have been going on around the city?” Jungsoo asked, flipping through an identical folder to the one Donghae was beginning to open.

“Yeah?”

Jungsoo clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Vic’s name is Shim Janghyung. He was stabbed three times in the abdomen with a kitchen knife, then wrapped in garbage bags. When his wife came home, she was beaten over the head with a blunt object. She’s in a coma at Seoul Memorial.”

“Any witnesses aside from the wife?” Donghae wondered, looking at a few crime scene photos that had been developed and tucked into the file.

“Neighbors said they heard her scream. They saw two people running from the house, one with dark hair, and one they guessed was blond. Males from their description. They didn’t see their faces.”

“And you’re sure it’s the same robbers?”

Jungsoo nodded. “They cleaned the house out. Apparently, they took whatever they hit the wife with too because initial investigations found nothing there. Get your gear, we’re heading over there to check out the scene and then we’re going to familiarize ourselves with this case.”

They drove to the victims’ house and as Jungsoo parked in front, yellow tape mapping off the property limits, Donghae stared wide-eyed at his partner. The victim and his wife had lived a block away from Donghae and his mother.

The remainder of the work day had been spent analyzing the case, memorizing names, facts, and time lines. Jungsoo and Donghae had been to every crime scene, re-interviewed witnesses; though both detectives had to give the detective who had worked the case previously the benefit of the doubt. The man had been thorough and as detailed as physically possible. It wasn’t bad police work that had led them all to a seemingly dead end; it was lack of suspect, cause, and leads.

At the end of the day, he picked up his mother and took her to his aunt’s apartment where he told her she would be staying until he was sure that whomever had attacked those two people were locked away. She had tried to argue with him but lost in the end. After bidding her good night and promising to visit her on the weekend, Donghae had gone up to the roof for a cigarette - a bad habit his mother had hated. Though, truly, he needed the calm that came from the burning tobacco.

He hadn’t expected to find someone trying to jump off the building. After the day he had, another dead body for no apparent reason didn’t sit well with him - not that it would on any other day - however, in this case, he spared the person the pleasantries of sugar-coated care. A few emotionless words and an act of nonchalance had him sitting in a little river side noodle shop with Hyukjae.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Sleeping around was not Sungmin’s style and he found it hard to adjust to at first. Ryeowook was a gracious host and made him breakfast every time he did stay the night. So, Sungmin figured, it wasn’t really sleeping around. He was having casual with Ryeowook, pretending that he wasn’t out of work and running out of funds quicker than the bills were slipping through the mail slot.

He was with Ryeowook at all hours of the day, and it seemed like the other man never had much to do though there was always food in the fridge, the lights were always on, and the water was running. Ryeowook’s roommate was hardly ever there, and when he was, Sungmin had the impression that the man didn’t care too much for him and found his presence a bother. Ryeowook assured him that Hyukjae was just a quiet person.

While days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Sungmin closely monitored the news, listening in for any updates on the robberies but was disappointed to find that there were none. It was as if the criminals had really disappeared. He wanted to call Kim Heechul and ask how the case was going but he knew that even if Heechul liked him, confidentially kept that information far from Sungmin’s eyes and ears. Heechul would laugh at him and tell him to, “ off, kid.”

“Do you mind if I came over for a few hours?” Sungmin asked, shame and embarrassment turning the tips of his ears red. He listened as Ryeowook’s voice cleared over the line.

“Not at all. Is this a social visit or...”

“The power’s out in my apartment,” the other admitted, looking around his small home quietly. “I’m still trying to look for a job but I need my computer.”

Ryeowook took a bit longer to answer this time but when he did, Sungmin was the one who paused in silence. “How much is your bill? I’ll pay it. You can come over and we handle the payment. See you in a bit.”

The line went dead and Sungmin was left with an acrid taste on the tip of his tongue. It was a bit condescending and emasculating when Ryeowook suggested such a thing. Sungmin was more than capable of taking care of his own problems. Being self-sufficient was something he thought he had done well. But as he gathered his things to leave for Ryeowook’s place, he stopped to throw out the perishables in his fridge. The lack of food in general struck him as odd. He hadn’t realized how bad things were going.

Anger overcame him and he blamed two nameless men for this. He was living a crumbling life because he couldn't solve one case. The bitter feeling that overcame him refused to relent and he found that he was crying frustrated tears as he slammed the door closed behind him. The key refused to turn in the lock and he had half a mind to forget it altogether but this was still his home and even if two robbers had lost him his job, he’d be damned if they stole anything more from him.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Ryeowook had grown up independent though very dependable, keeping him alive and well even in the most dire straits. He had ensured that both he and Hyukjae lived - maybe not in luxury - yet they lived in relative comfort. They had small amenities, things to keep them afloat but never more than they needed. People who lived around them didn’t need to know that they paid their bills with stolen money. The point was to be as normal and barely scraping by as possible. There wasn’t a need for unnecessary attention. If they had splurged on a big screen, on cars, on anything they desired, then suspicion would arise. Ryeowook made sure that their landlord even worried if they were going to be able to pay their rent at the end of the month.

To those who looked at Ryeowook and Hyukjae, they looked like two men who life had chewed and spat back out. They were starving artists - a singer and dancer who spent their days trying to find fame and fortune. They did small fix it jobs in the building for cash, overdoing their conversations about buying a keyboard for Ryeowook and a pair of flashy shoes for Hyukjae. The old lady who lived next door even made them food once a week because she felt bad for them.

In all truth, Ryeowook didn’t sleep with Sungmin to get an unofficial boyfriend. He didn’t need companionship - he had Hyukjae and he was content with the platonic nature of their relationship. Still, something about Sungmin kept Ryeowook on his toes, smiling, and laughing. Sungmin reawakened in him emotions he thought he didn't have any more. He liked to cook with his mother before she had died; so he prepared meals for Sungmin, relishing in the expressions on Sungmin’s face when he liked something.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Hyukjae felt like a child, huddled in the corner of the booth seat while Ryeowook and Sungmin whispered to each other, leaning closer than needed. He knew he was jealous of Sungmin, to the point where the word ‘hate’ was literally pounding in his head, searching for a way to get Hyukjae to say it aloud. He hated Sungmin because Sungmin had wormed his way into their lives, disrupting everything they always had. The routine of their lives was altered and there was nothing to be done about it.

However, something about Sungmin rubbed Hyukjae the wrong way, and it did not root from that jealousy. Sungmin seemed to be hiding something, and searching for something at the same time. Hyukjae noticed that the other’s eyes lingered on closed doors and the money that Ryeowook had started to frivolously spend on Sungmin. Sooner or later, and Hyukjae was sure of this, Sungmin would begin to question where Ryeowook had gotten so much money if he was an orphan and if he never worked. Who was the mysterious benefactor of Kim Ryeowook and Lee Hyukjae’s good fortune?

Ryeowook wasn’t stupid but he was getting careless.

“You aren’t drinking?” Sungmin asked, smiling gently in Hyukjae’s direction.

“I don’t drink” Hyukjae deadpanned, feeling every bit like the five-year-old Sungmin sounded like he was talking to. “I have a phone call to make.”

“Yo,” Hyukjae called, rapping his knuckles against the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “You got a phone I can use?”

The bartender gave him a wary look and Hyukjae pulled a bill from his pocket, sliding it across the wet counter. The man smiled as his fingers greedily picked it up and he handed Hyukjae a cordless phone. “Five minutes,” he added greasily before returning to sloshing glass cups in melted ice water.

The phone rang three times and Hyukjae was ready to give up when Donghae’s voice, wary and sleep-laden, answered. “Yeah?”

“Bad time?” he asked, regretting having disturbed Donghae just because he was frustrated with Ryeowook and Sungmin.

“Hyukjae...” Donghae paused, breathing heavily into the phone. “Hyukjae, where are you?”

“Some bar with my roommate and his boyfriend. I don’t want to be here. I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to hang out.”

“Hyukjae, listen to me,” Donghae insisted and Hyukjae noted the urgency and terse tone the other used. “Leave right now. Go to my house and wait for me. Don’t tell anyone just go.”

“What’s wrong?” He had begun to panic, his heart was racing and he couldn’t figure out why.

Donghae sighed and grit the words out, “Hyukjae, just do as I say. This is for your own good.”

“O-okay.”

“Good, I’ll be there later. The key’s under the potted plant on the right of side of the back door.”

Gathering his bearings, Hyukjae looked back to the table where Sungmin was looking at him anxiously and Ryeowook was looking at Sungmin, oblivious. There was something unsettling in Sungmin’s gaze and Hyukjae felt exposed under the scrutinizing eyes. He called out to the bartender and returned the phone. As the man turned around, the television set behind him had captured Hyukjae’s attention and had him drowning in the feeling of ice.

‘... Lee Kyunghee was arriving home after an afternoon out with friends when she found her husband lying die in their kitchen and two unknown men in her home. She was attacked and has been in a coma since the incident almost three months ago. Lee Kyunghee woke up sometime last week and has since been in touch with the authorities. She recounted her encounter to police officers and the Seoul Police Department has released these sketches of the suspects at large. If you have any news about these two men, authorities are urging you to call...’

Time stopped.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Sungmin had to admit his heart hurt a little bit as he watched Ryeowook be dragged out in handcuffs. If Sungmin were quicker, he could have assured the arrests about both Ryeowook and Hyukjae but the other had escaped capture and that pissed Sungmin off. He wanted them to face the proverbial gallows together. Even if Ryeowook had been the one to kill the man, Hyukjae had stood at his side as it seemed they always had. Sungmin would never really understand their dynamic; he supposed he was never meant to - his role in all of this was to be jaded and then redeemed, blowing the whistle on his downfalls and then getting his life back.

It was fate, Sungmin reasoned. He’d been dealt a bad first hand and this was a new set of five. The deck had been reshuffled, coming up with a pair of aces; he just wished he had gotten that royal flush. True, he had his job back and Kim Heechul hadn’t made a crack at him once since he had been reinstated, there was still a hint of bitter resentment that Hyukjae had gotten away. Hyukjae was smarter than Sungmin had ever imagined. He wasn’t as careless has Ryeowook had gotten.

Paying for Sungmin’s bills had been a red flag; it was the first sign that something was amiss. Ryeowook, Sungmin had deduced, didn’t work. He had no means for the funds that he had. He lived a strictly lower middle class life and he had no family. It wasn’t inheritance money. Sungmin had been a detective long enough to know how to get the answers he wanted. He prodded Ryeowook about small things: his parents and school mostly. He knew Ryeowook had no family and that he had been orphaned as a teenager. He found out that Ryeowook hadn’t even finished school. So the money remained a huge question mark.

In actuality, Sungmin had begun to truly like Ryeowook; he often pondered if his feelings bordered on love. Though the very idea was too grandiose for two people who merely had and went to the movies now and then. Their exchange of Sungmin’s bills and sleeping in Ryeowook had begun to feel like something akin to ion, a thing that Sungmin had casually brought up as the two lay in bed, panting profusely.

“I’m not paying you to have with me, Sungmin,” Ryeowook had told him, slightly hurt that the other would suggest such a thing. “I like you, Min... a lot.”

Sungmin squeezed his eyes shut at the memory. He felt guilt swell inside of him for what he had done to something that he himself had really liked just as much. It was the very day after they had that conversation that Sungmin had found a loose floor board in Ryeowook’s room.

He really hadn’t been looking for anything, his wallet had fallen off the bed and he was trying to retrieve it. He used his arms to reach under the headboard, fingers trailing in a thin coat of dust until his pinkie hit an uneven board and pulled it up slightly. Curiosity pulled him in and Sungmin found himself moving the bed away from the wall, thankful that Hyukjae was never home and Ryeowook was in the shower. What he found under that board was more money than he had ever made in his life and two guns.

It wasn’t two hours later that he had one of the guns and a few bills in plastic bags, setting them down on Shin Donghee’s desk and telling the pompous bastard, “Give me my badge back.”

“Are you Lee Sungmin?”

Sungmin looked up to find Park Jungsoo standing over him, an outstretched hand and a dimpled smile on his face. Sungmin stood up and accepted the man’s hand, bowing to him politely. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Did Heechul talk to you already?” Sungmin shook his head. Jungsoo nodded. “We’re going to be partners. We’re going to see to it that Cho Kyuhyun over at the DA’s office has enough to slap Kim Ryeowook with a life sentence. The witness is ready to testify, you brought us the evidence. You did well, Lee.”

“Thanks. Sounds like fun,” Sungmin told him, voice constricted slightly.

“Should be,” Jungsoo affirmed, walking away.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Ryeowook sat in a cold cell, wondering how the hell things had turned bad so quickly. He had been sure he was careful and that everything he did was done with the utmost discretion. He wasn’t sure where he had slipped up. Maybe he should have killed the old lady, too. Even as he said that though, the bit of humility he had reserved for the end of his lifetime caused a sour taste to coat the insides of his cheeks. Killing another person wouldn’t have fixed this. Living honestly should have remedied it from the start. He had been through the wringer and life laughed at him. It didn’t care if he couldn't get by.

He wondered if pleading innocent would get him anywhere, probably not - they had a witness. Though another detective had seemed so sure that there was more than a witnesses account. He wasn’t sure what it was but there was sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Ryeowook wasn’t sure where Hyukjae was and, to be honest, he was glad. They had asked him several times about his accomplice and all he had told them was, “What accomplice?”

If he had never done right by Hyukjae in all their time together, he was going to make good on what he owed the other now. The change of heart was strange at first because he was resentful that Hyukjae was skirting out of this, free to live a normal life wherever it was that he had ran away, too; soon, the resentment turned into a swell of pride and he hoped that Hyukjae would survive on his own. He knew him so well and had half expected the older to try to turn himself in but Ryeowook was glad he hadn’t.

Sungmin never came to see him, though Ryeowook couldn’t blame him. Poor Sungmin was subjected to a public display of embarrassment as he was held back by police officers while Ryeowook was arrested. Ryeowook worried about him more than Hyukjae. Hyukjae knew where they had money stored... Sungmin... Sungmin was penniless and weary. It was sad.

A week later, after sitting in isolation and having time to reflect, Ryeowook didn’t give a what happened to him. He was in court, a city appointed attorney by his side and pled guilty to murder, attempted murder, robbery, grand theft, and fraud. A chance glance around the room found Ryeowook staring at Sungmin who was sitting beside an attractive blond man.

“Call your first witness, District Attorney Cho,” the judge commanded.

Cho Kyuhyun stood and looked into the audience, pews packed with press and spectators alike. “We call Detective Lee Sungmin of the Seoul Police Department to the stand, your Honor.”

Ryeowook could only stare in shock as Sungmin walked past him - cold and uncaring, as if they were strangers.

ㅎㅎㅎ

Donghae watched him from the bedroom while the man who was occupying the bathroom ran fingers through dark locks. He watched the other with the utmost care, judging his mood in his actions and the lines in his face. He was so open and Donghae could read him with patient ease.

Their meeting had been a byproduct of harsh circumstances, however, as they came to know one another, they found they had common interests and found a genuine attraction to one another that was undeniable. Donghae wasn’t one for love at first sight, but there was no point in lying to himself or the other man that he cared a great deal for him and they both looked forward to those hours where they would just sit in Donghae’s living room and watch movies in English while eating Chinese takeout. They had a simple relationship.

Donghae’s feelings were tested the moment Lee Kyunghee awoke from her coma and gave the department sketch artist, Kim Jongwoon, details that caused bile to rise in Donghae’s throat. And then news began to flitter around the department that the detective who had worked the robberies before had made due on his promise to catch them. He didn’t want to believe what he had heard, much less what he had seen. It was hard to accept, yet incredibly easy to deal with.

There was a knock on the door, both men turning to look as Donghae’s mother poked her head into the room and smiled at her son.

“Are you and Eunhyuk ready for lunch? I got some fresh fish from the docks today.”

“Thanks, umma, we’ll be down soon,” Donghae told her, feeling his heart swell as his mother smiled at him. He loved his mother and she seemed happy. That was enough for Donghae.

Eunhyuk came out of the bathroom, going to the dresser and pulling out a fresh t-shirt. He pulled it over his head and avoided looking at the other. This new life was going to take some getting used to. Donghae took his hand and they went down to have lunch with his mother. He tried not to react as Donghae’s mother talked about the trial of that “terrible boy who killed that poor man.”

“They’re going to give him the death penalty by the looks of it. Well, why wouldn’t they? They have his fingerprints, they found all that money... it’s a pity they never caught the other man who helped him. This Kim boy will be getting what he deserves but the other one should, too.”

“Umma,” Donghae cautioned, looking sideways at Eunhyuk for the briefest of seconds. “Let’s not spoil this nice meal with talk of that, okay?”

“You’re right,” Donghae’s mother agreed. “He’ll get his one day. Oh, Donghae, your aunt called. She said she wanted to come to Mokpo for a visit. I told her to wait until we were settled...”

Eunhyuk listened to mother and son chatter idly as he moved the food on his plate back and forth.

Time ticked slowly. Eunhyuk was lucky Lee Hyukjae didn’t exist anymore.