The events at the bar were still bothering Wonsik as he made his way home. The conversation with Hongbin played on repeat in his mind as he took the subway to his station. Some of the things he said, they just didn’t sit well with Wonsik. The metal tube of a train car swayed this way and that, moving the passengers about like reeds in the wind. And there Wonsik was trying to figure out just what had happened. It didn’t help at all that his brain was still mired in gin, the start of a headache thrumming behind his eyeballs, the grind of the wheels against the track scraping along the inside of his skull.

Maybe he should have been grateful for the bartender, Taekwoon’s, timely interruption. Something told him that staring too long into those wide brown eyes was akin to staring too long at the sun. You’d go blind and lose your mind. Not that the bartender’s eyes were any better. Narrow and accusing and suspicious. No, Wonsik didn’t like it one bit, and he just knew in his gut that they were hiding something. Something they really didn’t want a cop to find out about.

The train car jarred and Wonsik’s head banged against the window, sending pain radiating out in near crippling waves through his head. Serves him right really, he’d chosen to go to End of the Line specifically for it’s low key nature, it only figured that it was a cover for something.

Forget about it. He told himself, letting his body shift and sway with speeding train coming to a halt. Wasn’t his problem, he hadn’t seen anything suspicious, by all accounts he could just let it go. That’s what his boss would want him to do. That’s what his boss would tell him to do.

that.

Wonsik groused to himself all along the short walk from the subway to his small studio apartment. The gentle crunch of fallen leaves under his shoes kept him company and his steps in time. A far cry from the slightly tarnished streets that End of the Line was found on, Wonsik had elected to keep his roost in a slightly better class of town. Pretty little iron fences, well trimmed hedges, and street lights that actually worked. Maybe that meant he lived in a spit of a room the size of a bucket, but a little peace of mind and the lack of constant gunfire was worth it.

Beneath a small but at least functional light, Wonsik huddled inside his own jacket, blowing warm air into his hands to get his knuckles loose. The cheerful beeps of the apartment building keypad seemed to be mocking him as he poked a near frozen finger at them, the chime signaling success only served to make his head throb a little more.

Blessedly no one was around at the late hour to observe him. If it was all the same to the world, he’d rather keep at least the illusion of dignity. And sweet Mrs. Nam in 309 didn’t need to see the ‘brave detective’ she was so delighted to be neighbors with stumbling home drunk out of his mind. It’d be one hell of a capper to his night though.

Safe behind the door of apartment 307, with the lights mercifully off, Wonsik allowed himself to exhale, slumped against the wall. The thought of drumming up the energy to shed his clothes and shower before bed was nigh unthinkable. No, he’d rather like to just curl up on the floor and imagine the night didn’t happen.

But that wasn’t the responsible thing to do, and Wonsik wasn’t so far gone down that hole that he couldn’t at least drag his to his bed and fall face first onto that instead of the floor. Stumbling slightly, he nearly tripped over his own gangly legs and into the folding screen that separated his bed from the rest of his studio. That’s what he got for going around that way, having deemed the kitchen island as a hazard to knees and stubbed toes.

Struggling out of the sleeves of his jacket, he tossed it to the corner to join the myriad of other jackets he owned, none of them having seen a hanger in a long time. He toed off his shoes at the end of the bed and reached a hand almost a little too late to slap the bedside alarm on. Not that anyone would notice if he showed up on time or not, but he had digging to do. Maybe it sounded like an old cliche, but now that his nose was itching, he was gonna sniff around until he found out just what went down at the End of the Line.

The last thing he saw before passing out was the hint of skin at the base of Hongbin’s throat, but Wonsik didn’t have the energy to curse.

---

“Ahhh, I can’t believe you stopped me tonight.” Hongbin whined, kicking a pebble along the grimy street, fists stuffed inside his thin jacket. A slight shiver coursed through him with the autumn wind nipping at his nose. “Since when do you have a jealous streak?” A crooked grin spread across his face, erasing all sense of the delicate boy from the stage. He knew all too well, that there was no way that was the case. “I think we both know you know better than that, Taekwoon.”

Beside him, bundled inside a leather jacket and slouched against the wind, Taekwoon lit what was probably his 3rd cigarette since leaving the bar. “He’s a cop.” The words hung in there as he let Hongbin absorb what he’d said. his lips once he slipped the filtered end of the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and drew in the familiar taste of tobacco, letting the smoke slip through his system before curling out of his mouth in wispy tendrils. “Don’t want you associating with him.” Cops were nothing but trouble, trouble and red tape, and he was all but sure this one was suspicious of them already. “We’ll have to cancel Saturday.”

And that was trouble in it’s own respect, Taekwoon thought darkly. Though his face remained passive, moody thoughts passed through his eyes. Of course, there was no winning choice in this scenario, but what else was new? It was hard to remember the last time they weren’t in some dire situation with nothing but wrong choices at their disposal. True, he had trouble thinking of a time in recent memory that was worse than this, but still, it was business as usual.

Hongbin’s face fell, the smirky attitude gone in a blink and replaced with a stern expression. “I can usually pick them out.” The cold breeze swept through to eat his mutter and carry it away. “And you know that we can’t cancel Saturday, we already have confirmations. It’d be even more trouble if we tried to reschedule.”

“More trouble than being discovered?” Taekwoon scoffed and sent him a dark glare, but the other man just shrugged once, impervious to it. Hongbin never did have much sense for business. “There’s no way we’re not going to be under watch for the next week, no thanks to you.” Ash fell in soft flakes to the ground as the cigarette between his lips moved with his words. “I thought we’d agreed you were full up.”

“What can I say?” Again, the fresh faced boy was back to smiling, voice teasing in its post work huskiness, the momentary seriousness of the matter having washed over him. “He was pretty, and looked lonely.”

“You’re sentimental now?” Taekwoon sneered and took a deep inhale from his cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke toward his companion. “He doesn’t even look rich, and tips like .” It wasn’t like Hongbin at all to be so susceptible to such factors as ‘pretty’ or ‘lonely’, something had to be up, and it rankled Taekwoon that he was only just seeing it now. Maybe they’d both been spending too much time in their own heads.

Broken shards of glass crunched under foot as Hongbin rounded the corner into a darkened alley. The scrape of it was almost comforting in its familiarity. “He reminded me of you.” A fond tone filled his voice, as his eyes slanted into crescents, a remembering smile on his face. “A little apart from the rest of the world and obviously at his rope’s end.” Casually, the dark haired singer shuffled closer to his friend and began to walk in step with him. “Remember, that’s how we met.”

Taekwoon could remember. He didn’t want to, but he could. Neither of them had been at their best. If he’d known then what he knew now… maybe he would have walked away from the wide eyed boy. But life wasn’t about maybes, and chances were Hongbin would have been in an even worse position if they hadn’t teamed up. “Except I wasn’t a cop,” it was a pretty big distinction in his opinion, “and we helped each other. That one’s only going to cause trouble.”

“You’re such a downer, Taekwoon.” But there wasn’t any negativity to Hongbin’s words as he playfully nudged the other man with his elbow. “Maybe if you’d just let me do my thing we wouldn’t even have to worry about him cause he’d be on our side.”

“You’re not that cute.” But he slid a hand around the singer’s waist all the same, finding comfort in the familiar touch and proximity before slipping his fingers back into his pocket to dig around for the house key. The door to their home wasn’t anything special, the whole building wasn’t anything special. Dull stone with small grimy windows, with chain link fences on either side. “You’re just going to do it to spite me, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But it was a lie and they both knew it. Doing as he was told had never really been Hongbin’s strong suit. Plus, there’d been something about Wonsik, something he couldn’t quite place, but it was… easier to breathe near him. He wasn’t lying when he said that the melancholy police man reminded him of Taekwoon, not in any sort of tangible way, nothing so bold that he could place his finger on it. More like a feeling of comfort, a sort of broken quality. They were all a little broken.

Taekwoon shot off another glare toward Hongbin, and used his shoulder to help unjam the door after he’d unlocked it. Their space wasn’t much, the building was narrow but tall, which just meant a lot of stairs. The living room and kitchen dominated the first floor with an old metal spiral staircase leading up to the second floor and Hongbin’s office and further up to the third and the master bedroom. “You only bring me trouble.” Voice soft, Taekwoon reached out to run his tapered fingers through Hongbin’s hair, ruffling the mess of black locks.

“Argh,” Hongbin pulled back, a distasteful look on his face as he arched his neck to escape the meddlesome hand. “Talk about trouble.” He shed his jacket and hung it up dutifully on the rack nailed into the wall, holding out his hand for Taekwoon to hand over his own leather coat. “You know I’m still working, jerk.”

Right, work, the playful mood ebbed away from Taekwoon as he shrugged from his own coat and let Hongbin hang it. Couldn’t ever forget that no matter what, they still had their life of wrong choices ahead of them. “Go get cleaned up, I’ll send your 3 am up when they get here.”

Already checking himself out in the ornate hanging mirror next to the coat rack, Taekwoon watched as the transformation settled around Hongbin. Flicking open the top button of his shirt, and working his hair back into shape. An almost clouded look entered his eyes, and Taekwoon knew that Hongbin was already letting himself disappear under the act. He offered a seductive smile to Taekwoon as he passed by, taking the steps to the spare bedroom, his ‘office’.

Sometimes it was fun to forget that they were who they were. Sometimes it felt nice to pretend that their life wasn’t a series of least wrong choices they could make. But pretending to forget wasn’t going to help either of them, and neither was getting someone who could haul both of their asses into jail involved. Taekwoon would have to bring it up again, but he knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere. Hongbin could be stubborn like that.

Blowing out a breath and stubbing his cigarette in the ashtray on the kitchen counter, he flipped open the book that kept Hongbin’s appointments along with the ledger. Taekwoon could remember how they’d met alright, how could he forget when the gorgeous boy with the wide eyes had asked him if he wanted to him.