Five hours past midnight and an hour until the earliest flight towards a remote part in Thailand leaves, Jongin looks for his gun.

A boisterous alarm followed by a contrastingly monotone voice cracks from the living room, “This just came in, the police now have a solid evidence which, hopefully, will allow them to track down the notorious killer who's been held guilty for the massive amount of killings reported these past months.”

The night lamp beside the book shelf is knocked down as Jongin gets his foot tangled in a mess of wires while making his way towards his room. He's been on the edge lately, bloodshot eyes and trembling hands ready to wrap around someone's throat—preferably the murderer, Jongin forces himself to think.

There's a loud banging at the front door.

“Open up!” A voice shouts, and Jongin finds his gun under the bed.

His door is broken down. Loud footsteps. Blood rushing to his ears. He needs to move. He needs to leave.

“Put your hands up in the air!”

He needs to escape Kyungsoo.

“Leaving so soon?” Kyungsoo strides towards him. “I wonder why?”

Jongin steps back until his back hits the wall, making his gun hidden from Kyungsoo. His breath hitches as Kyungsoo brings out a gun. He's been on the edge lately, bloodshot eyes and trembling hands ready to wrap around someone's throat—preferably the murderer, Jongin forces himself to think. Preferably Kyungsoo.

“ you. You knew right from the start, didn't you?” Jongin scoffs.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn't.” Kyungsoo holds his gun up and points it at Jongin. “But, please, do tell me why you did them. I need it for a statement.”

“Isn't it obvious? I was killing the bad guys.”

“Saying it like you're innocent. Your concept of justice—you make me feel sick,” Kyungsoo steps forward, and Jongin notices the liquid lining the rims of his eyes. His hand tightens and his finger lingers precariously near the trigger. “You've killed a lot of our men, my friends—”

“Then why don't you shoot me now?” Jongin says, arms becoming numb as he keeps them held up.

“I could kill you right now, Jongin. I want to, but unlike you I follow orders.Where are you hiding your weapons?”

Jongin directs his gaze towards the bed, and a smile plays on his lips as he remembers the image of Kyungsoo's bare skin contrasting against the red satin bedsheets. He walks slowly towards Kyungsoo, smile morphing into a smirk as Kyungsoo doesn't step back.

“You remember all the time we spent together?” Jongin latches his hands around Kyungsoo's waist, burying his face on the crook of Kyungsoo's neck. Kyungsoo freezes in place. “We could still run, Kyungsoo. You and me against the world, like you always wanted.”

And Jongin kisses Kyungsoo, and it's skin against skin, force against hesitation. He kisses until Kyungsoo kisses him back, until he feels Kyungsoo melt against his touch.

Kyungsoo bites his lips, and Jongin tastes iron touching the tip of his tongue. Kyungsoo moans out his name, and Jongin takes the opportunity and grabs the gun from his back pocket.

A gunshot. The smell of gun powder inside the room. Kyungsoo's eyes widen. Blood stains the cloth of his police uniform.

Jongin doesn't break away from the kiss. His mouth muffles the screams squeezing out of Kyungsoo's throat as he holds the other man upright. And when Jongin does let go, Kyungsoo looks at him with fear and tears in his eyes.

“You know, you could've actually became Seoul's greatest investigator—scratch that, you are Seoul's greatest investigator. Finding out I was the mass murderer after all the fake evidences I put out... you have skills.”

Jongin takes a deep breath, takes in the smell of Kyungsoo's blood. “And the truth is, I think I like you. Too bad I had to kill you.”

Kyungsoo falls to the ground with nothing but a thud.