The drive home was… awkward, to say the least.

Many minutes after Jihoon was left alone, sitting on the very couch he’d risked his life on, waiting anxiously for someone to come back and tell him what to do next, Jisoo came crashing back into the room with a change of clothes and an apologetic expression. He paid little mind to the metal collar pieces strewn along the floor, nor the fact that Jihoon was no longer wearing it. He simply directed him into a room where he could change, and explained with as little words possible what the next move was.

Needless to say, hearing that he was supposed to go home with the very man that had held him by the neck and looked at him like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe… had Jihoon feeling a bit overwhelmed.

He changed into the clothes provided, plain jeans and a grey hoodie, and followed Jisoo through the Manase building, feeling the eyes of staff and superheroes follow him as he went. Their whispers were inaudible from such a distance, but Jihoon had a pretty good guess on what they were saying about him.

Word travels fast, especially when that word involves Sergeant Coups.

Jisoo led him out the building and opened up the back door of a car, which had been waiting outside the building. He hopped in, freezing before his seat at the sight of the Sergeant buckled up beside him. The man stared daggers out the window, attempting with the best of his ability to pretend that Jihoon wasn’t there.

Jihoon turned to Jisoo, but before he could utter out an excuse to ride in a different car, the door was slamming in his face, and the engine was roaring.

He sat with his hands in his lap for the duration of the ride. Somehow, he had the feeling if he moved, he might provoke the ticking time bomb sitting beside him. It wasn’t a far drive from the building to the sergeant’s apartment, but he kept to himself just to be safe.

Just as he’d expected from Mansae’s most successful superhero, he certainly wasn’t living in poverty. The building was tall and silver, decorated with pristine floor to ceiling windows in every outer-facing apartment. He stepped out of the car with an overwhelming feeling, trailing a step behind the Sergeant, who walked forward without paying Jihoon any mind.

The staff might not have known who this guy was exactly, but they certainly knew he was important.

While Jihoon felt like a ghost of a person, ignored by both staff and bystanders, there wasn’t a single person who didn’t stop to greet his partner.

The Sergeant didn’t respond very enthusiastically, giving a simple head bow to the lot of them, and heading into the elevator without a word. As he stood against the wall of the confined space, Jihoon rushed to make it in before the doors shut. The liftman greeted them with a friendly smile, already familiar with the man before him.

Jihoon, despite not wanting to look like a fish out of water, had his mouth hung open as the operator pressed the highest number on the elevator controls.

It was a roof-top suite. An absolutely gorgeous bachelors’ studio, which overlooked the entirety of Seoul city through Chrystal-clear clear windows, way larger than Jihoon himself. He walked around the space with awe, jogging over and pressing his hands up to the windows as he stared down at the city-scape, feeling breathless.

Well, He’d lived underground for the past decade, could anyone blame him for being a little star-struck at such a view?

A cough from across the room reminded him in an instant that he wasn’t alone in this fancy- house. He dropped his hands from the window, turning back to the Sergeant with a shy expression.

“Nice place.” He managed, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans to appear more casual.

Sergeant-killjoy seemed to be thinking as he pulled off his suit jacket, eyes flickering to Jihoon with a suspicious expression, as if ensuring he wasn’t going to get his dirty fingers on anything else.

He hung his jacket over his arm, ing his dress shirt as he spoke. “I guess you’ve chosen to ignore my warning from before.”

Jihoon smiled sweetly, feeling irked. “As long as I follow the rules, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it partner?”

He turned back to him with furrowed brows. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that, seeing as you’re already breaking rule number one.”

It was late in the evening now, far past any time in the day for this guy to be starting a fight. Couldn’t he just let him settle in for now and try to kill him again in the morning?

Jihoon breathed out, returning his stare to the beauty of the window-scape to quell his anger. “I don’t know how you expect us to work together if I can’t talk to you.”

“That’s the idea.” He smiled in a sarcastic manner, walking off as he pulled against the buttons of his shirt, frustrated.

Upon realizing, Jihoon turned after him. “Uh, where the hell am I supposed to sleep?”

“On the couch, or the floor, I don’t care.”

“But-”  Before he could finish, the sergeant’s bedroom doors were snapping shut just before the tips of his fingers, and Jihoon was left in silence.

He grumbled. “What couch?”

He looked around the room and clicked his tongue. Besides the most basic of furniture, like counters and sinks which were attached to the walls, the house was practically barren. And the numerous takeout-boxes and ramen packets laying out in stark contrast to the expensive interior of the house made things pretty obvious. This guy didn’t seem to spend a lot of time at home, but damn, he couldn’t even bother buying a couch??

Whatever, it wasn’t as if he’d expected to be treated like an ‘honored’ guest, anyways. Jihoon lay on the carpeted floor by the window, and stared at the ceiling. No couch, no pillow, and no blanket. Real hospitable, Deputy douche-bag.

He’d slept in worse conditions, though. Much worse. He rolled to his side and stared out the window, watching with heavy lids at the flickering lights of a distant plane, glimmering like artificial starlight against an otherwise barren night sky. Eventually, as he watched the empty space shine blankly against the bright lights of the city below, Jihoon’s eyes began to flutter closed.

Seungcheol walked out from his bedroom minutes later, in fresh clothes, ruffling wet hair with a towel.  He was hoping to find a mess, a broken window, and a missing Vulcan. Cause honestly, what villain wouldn’t run to freedom if given the chance? Especially with the way Seungcheol was disregarding him. But he scanned the room, feeling disappointed as he found each and every little detail of his house just the way he’d left it.

 Eventually, his eyes stumbled upon the Vulcan, laying completely unguarded upon the carpet floor. He’d told him to sleep anywhere, but… was this guy serious? It was really starting to feel like his plan to make him quit the program was impossible. This guy didn’t seem like the kind to quit even when his partner was treating him like an unwanted stray dog.

He crossed his arms, huffing as he turned back towards his bedroom doors.

“Mhm sergn…”

Seungcheol stopped, curiosity peeked at what sounded to be ‘sergeant’. He walked back, peeking down with a frown.

Was he awake?

The boy rolled onto his back, with one arm thrown haphazardly across his belly, the other laid lazily beside his head. His face scrunched up in his sleep, eyebrows knitting.

“Sergent… you bastard…” he whined.

“Ha!-“ Seungcheol slapped a hand over his own mouth to stifle his laugh, face heating up despite his best attempts to convince himself it wasn’t funny. But… the same guy who’d been up and following behind him like a scared rabbit since his release… was cursing his name in his sleep? It was honestly comedic.

He supposed he couldn’t judge him for holding a grudge, seeing as Seungcheol was the one who’d put him in jail. At least he was honest in his sleep.

Seungcheol took a breath to contain himself before he walked off quietly, returning moments later with a comforter bundled in his arms. He tossed it over the boy without much care, watching his expression shift as the blanket settled over him, nose scrunching up unpleasantly.

He was way cuter when his mouth was shut…

At that thought, he was spinning around and stomping back to his room, throwing himself under the covers as he cursed. God, why did he keep thinking having these kinds of thoughts? He’s not! He’s just…

Seungcheol rolled over, eyes shut tight as memories played over in his head, an unpleasant but constant reminder which haunted him.

He’s a criminal… Seungcheol wouldn’t allow himself to think such a thing about those kinds of people… Like him.

He couldn’t break his promise…

 Seungcheol rolled to his side with a huff, head pounding with pain as he willed himself to stop thinking about it. He grabbed a bottle from his bedside table, tossing the pills into his mouth before flopping back down, willing his mind to sleep.

~

Jihoon squinted his eyes at the sunlight feeding through the windows, groaning as he pulled his blanket over his face. After a minute of being unable to fall back asleep, he gave up, and tossed the fabric off of him, blinking groggily at the ceiling.

The one decoration Sergeant had was a basic clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen, screaming to Jihoon that it was too ing early to be awake, and yet when he shot up from where he’d been laying on the floor, there was Sergeant ing Coups. Awake bright and early, fully dressed, and glaring down at Jihoon with an impatient expression.

“You’re still here?” Sergeant grumbled, turning to the hallway mirror as he adjusted his suit jacket.

 Jihoon sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “You had every opportunity to run away yesterday night. I thought you’d be smart enough to take it.”

Jihoon smiled bitterly. “When are you gonna believe that I’m trying to turn my life around?”

He didn’t answer, tugging at his collar jacket as he fixed his already perfect appearance.

Jihoon stretched out his arms as he yawned, forgetting about the Sergeants attitude to stare out the window, watching the sun peaking past a distant mountain.

 “Get up.” He demanded from across the room. “I was told I have to take you with me.”

 Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Where can I take a shower?”

 “Just get up. I’m not taking you to a beauty pageant, doesn’t matter what you smell like.”

Jihoon watched him lean against the wall with a disinterested expression. This guy was so gaudily cocky, he had to stop himself from wanting to punch some modesty into him.

He chose instead to get to his feet, walking up to the Sergeant with a scowl. “Listen Captain crunch.”

“What did you just call me?”

“You heard me. You know, I get that you hate me, I really do. But it’s pretty obvious to me now that you’re not going to break the rules the company has set. If you could, you would have kicked me out by now.”

Seungcheol crossed his arms over his chest, feeling irked. He was right, but Seungcheol really wanted to punch that pretty mouth for talking like that.

“I’m not expecting friendship out of this arrangement. But in the least, you’re in charge of me. What do you think your coworkers are gonna think if I tell them you made me sleep on the floor? Or refused to let me take care of my most basic human rights like bathing and eating?” Jihoon squinted his eyes. “What would they think of their benevolent Sergeant Coups?”

Seungcheol walked forward, glaring down at the boy. “Are you threatening me? Me?”

“Yeah, I am. So, beat me, kill me. Let’s see if you still have a job afterwards.” He smirked.

Sergeant looked away with a frustrated sigh, unable to come up with a rebuttal. If this guy ever relapsed, Seungcheol wasn’t just gonna arrest him again. He’d make sure to beat him till he couldn’t open those loose lips again.  

He turned away with a huff, walking back to his bedroom. “Follow me. I’ll lend you some clothes today, but you’ll need to tell my assistant to buy you some later. I doubt mine will fit you.”

Feeling satisfied, Jihoon followed after him, eyes sparkling as he eyed the luxurious appearance of the bathroom.

“I’ll leave a change of clothes on my bed. Come out to the front when you’re done.” He glared. “And try not to touch my stuff.”

Before Jihoon could rebuttal, the door had slammed shut.

Jeeze... This guy was a lot more sensitive when he wasn’t in character. Though Jihoon had to give him props for keeping his cool during their fights. He was one hell of an actor.

Though he certainly didn’t hold back when the cameras were off.

After taking a quick shower to clean off the stress of yesterday, Jihoon walked out into the sergeant’s bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, inspecting the clothes laid out for him. A large black sweater and some simple dress pants. After pulling it over his head, he found himself drowning in the sweater, but at least the pants fit. He must have bought the wrong size and just been too lazy to throw them out.

By the time Jihoon had gotten to the bottom floor of the apartment building, Seungcheol was standing in wait against his car, looking down at his watch.

“Let’s go.” Jihoon smiled, clapping his shoulder as he walked past to the other side of the car, hopping in without a care.

Seungcheol sat in the passenger’s seat next to his driver, gritting his teeth.

~

“Seungcheol! You’re late, did you get held up by something this morning?” Jisoo handed him a coffee, speed-walking beside him as he stomped through the entrance.

“More like somebody.” He scoffed.

Jisoo swung his heads back to great the boy following behind with a smile. “And good morning, Jihoon!”

“What’s the schedule for today?” Seungcheol questioned, patience thin.

“Well, this morning the company has cleared your schedule so that you may accompany Jihoon to acquire his new alias, after which you have a press conference.”

Seungcheol swung around, stopping in his tracks. “His what?

When the staff around them stopped to watch, whispering concernedly, Jisoo pushed Seungcheol to keep walking, voice quieting to a whisper. “Let’s talk about this in your office.”

Jisoo motioned for Jihoon to sit down, before standing beside Seungcheol at his desk, handing him papers. “Usually we’d give you two more time to get to know each other and learn how best to cooperate, but unfortunately, word about you joining the program has reached the press.”

Seungcheol scanned over the articles, feeling a headache come on.

“We’re being pressured to host a press conference about you and your new partner, so we need to give Jihoon a persona, asap.”

Jihoon raised his hand from the couch, speaking up. “Uh, why do we have to rush?”

Jisoo turned back to him, feeling slightly guilty. “Well, Seungcheol is our company’s most reliable superhero. But if he’s going to mentor you, that means you need to be with him all day… That includes while he’s working.”

“Jisoo.” Seungcheol spoke, rubbing at his temples. “How would that even work? I doubt he’d be able to hold his own while I’m fighting.”

“I hate to agree, but he’s right. Hasn’t the company figured out I don’t have superpowers by now?” Jihoon leaned back lazily. “Unless you guys give me the authority and time to build some new toys, I’m not gonna be very helpful.”

Jisoo walked back to Jihoon after filling a glass of water for him, setting it down in front of him. “Don’t worry about all that. You’ll be provided with materials and time to build yourself some tools. You’ll just be supervised by our team while you do so, and you’ll have to follow our guidelines.” He smiled at the both of them. “But in the meantime, you’ll need to work with our design department to build your costume and receive a new alias. Which means, you need a makeover. You need to uphold your image as Sergeant Coups' sidekick, Afterall.”

Seungcheol turned to Jisoo, feeling exasperated. “Sidekick?”

Jihoon whined. “Makeover??”

After their short talk, Jihoon was trailing after the two of them once again, before being plopped down in a spinning chair, staring into his tired appearance in the illuminated mirror before him. A woman examined him with a piercing gaze, her chin.

“What do you think?” Jisoo questioned, nervous.

“He’s perfect.” She spoke with serious eyes, angling Jihoon’s face with precise hands. “Look at his facial features. Sharp, but also soft. A bit cat-ish. He’s such a unique canvas…”

Jihoon looked in the mirror in confusion, catching the Sergeant sat down on a couch, staring at his phone in an attempt to ignore what was happening.

 But, did this lady just call him a canvas?

“So, do you think you can get him ready in time?” Jisoo suppressed a chuckle as he caught Jihoon’s bewildered expression through the mirror, holding his professional stance.

She smirked. “Watch and learn, Mr. Hong. I’m going to turn this boy into Korea’s sweetheart.”

“Great! Then we’ll see you when you’re ready, Jihoon.”

Jisoo and Seungcheol got up to leave without another word, and a gown was being wrapped around him before he could manage a protest. The stylists surrounded him at the command of the woman. One to cut his hair, another taking care of his nail beds, a third holding colored sheets of fabric against his face to check if his complexion matched.

It was overwhelming.

His messy, overgrown bangs were chopped and styled to a neat line along his eyebrows, and the sides of the mop on his head were shaved to a classy undercut.

The woman leaned by his ear, angling Jihoon’s face with her hands as she spoke. “I can see you in any colour, really. But what do you think? Pink? Red? Yellow?”

 Jihoon gulped. “Anything but pink.”

She smirked, snapping her fingers to alert her assistants. They rushed over to hand off her tools.

Something about the way this lady smiled at him sent a chill up Jihoon’s spine. He couldn’t help but pray in his head that they weren’t gonna make him wear leather again. After dousing his hair in bleach, Jihoon was ushered into another room, where stylists measured him and weighed him, in a manner way to handsy than Jihoon was comfortable with.

“You’re much more muscular than anticipated.” She hummed, eyeing Jihoon’s shirtless frame with a pleased expression.

Jihoon lifted his hands to cover his biceps, face reddening. “I'm an ex-con. I didn't end up here by acting like chicken- you know.”

She chuckled. “But this could work. Your face is cute, but your attitude is ruthless. A bit of gap-Moe could be what makes you stand out among the rest. Let’s go with this concept.”

“Gap Moe??” Jihoon felt flustered, but after the final measurement, he was being shoved about again.

They fitted him for clothes, and in another room, he was filling out forms of information, trying on costume after costume, deliberating over colors until his stylist finally settled for wine-red on his head, which would contrast nicely with The sergeant’s silver-blue aesthetic.

Jihoon averted his eyes from the mirror as he examined his costume, tugging at his shorts insecurely. He’s said no leather, but this? This was way ing worse.

The very spandex getup he’d been teasing Sergeant Coups about for years, was modified, with a slightly different colour palate, then fitted onto Jihoon like it was made for him. His own past words taunted him in his head, repeating as he stared ashamed into the mirror. He looked like a military-esque Chippendale dancer.

“What do you think?” She questioned, adjusting his costume as she circled around him.

Jihoon crossed his arms over his chest. “I really don’t want to offend you, but how the hell is this flimsy suit supposed to help me in a fight?”

The lady smirked. “To call it flimsy is wildly inaccurate. This costume is made from fabric out scientists have been perfecting for years. It’s light, breathable, slash, fire, stab, and bullet-proof. You could wear a tank and be worse off.”

“Seriously?” Jihoon pinched the fabric, feeling doubtful. Though, if that were the case, it was no wonder all of Manase’s superhero’s chose such gaudy costumes.   

“Now, follow me.” She pushed him towards a chair with a smile, Jihoon following with hesitation.

“There’s more?”

“You need to get your makeup done, sweety.”

Jihoon’s mouth fell open. “No, no ing way.”

It was like he was speaking to a brick ing wall. A moment later, Jihoon was flinching at brushes and sponges patting at his face with precision. Balm was applied to cracked dry lips. And untouched pale skin was being moisturized and prepped. Jihoon cursed to himself, leaning back and closing his eyes in an attempt to ignore the humiliation.

“You’re done!” The woman stood him up, brushing away at his clothes and fussing over the final details, she turned Jihoon towards the mirror to present himself. “What do you think?”

Jihoon cracked an eye open, stomach dropping at his image in the mirror… He looked so… ostentatiously good. Like the model for a superhero weekly magazine. His skin was painted pale and unblemished, dark natural shadows around his eyes, with highlights and blush to awaken his complexion. That, along with his new fire-hydron red hair and gaudy spandex suit, had Jihoon wishing he could run and hide.

“I don’t know what to say!” He feigned a voice of excitement, turning to his stylist with a displeased scowl against painted pink lips.

She chuckled. “I knew you’d like it. Gosh, but what should we call you now? The little soldier? First commander Jihoon?”

“Call me Private Hoon for all I care.” He joked, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all.

And yet, against his intentions, the woman was smiling bright, eyes glimmering with inspiration. “Private! That’s a good idea. Sergeant Coups and Private… wait, what’s your superpower again?”

“What? I- I don’t have one. I just invent ... it’s like mechanical intuition, I guess.”

She chuckled. “That’s kind of funny.”

“What is?” He leaned away from her amused gaze, feeling nervous.

“Well, hoon Is like, mechanic slang for someone who’s wreck-less with machines. Doesn’t it kind of suit you?”

He blinked, disbelieving. “Wait, I was joking. You know that, right?”

She shrugged. “Sorry sweety, we don’t really have time for jokes. So, I guess Private Hoon it is!”

The woman jotted it down on her clipboard quickly, ignoring the boy's desperate expression. Then, without a second thought, He was out of the room and ushered down a hall by a new group of staff, who spoke through their headsets hurriedly.

“Private’s on the move, standby for entrance.”

“What’s going on?” He questioned in a nervous voice.

The staff ignored him, pushing him to keep walking as they rushed through the building.

Jihoon felt his stomach twisting anxiously as the sound of voices gained volume, louder and louder until at the last moment possible, Jihoon realized with utter fear, that beyond the double doors before him, there was a massive crowd.

“Private entering in 3… 2…”

Two people on either side of him held open the double doors, while the woman behind him gave him a slight shove, gesturing for him to walk. Jihoon stumbled forward, squinting at the blinding flashing of camera’s surrounding his stature. He stood there like a deer in the headlights as a crowd of citizens cheered, and rows of paparazzi lurched forward with microphones, buzzing with energy.

He caught sight of Sergeant Coups stature, who turned back to great him with a brilliant smile, much different from the way he usually looked at him.

Sergeant walked back to him in a few good strides, noticing quickly that Jihoon had froze. Without a word of warning, he wrapped an arm over his shoulders in a friendly manner, leaning to his side to whisper, quiet enough that the people surrounding them wouldn’t be able to hear a peep.

“Just smile and wave, I’ll do the talking.”

Jihoon clasped his mouth shut, walking side by side with his partner, who pulled him tight against his side as they came to the front of the conference stage. After adjusting his vision and clearing away his muddled thoughts, he pulled his lips into a shy smile, scanning over the crowd of people. What the hell was this, a ing concert? Why did so many people show up?

The Sergeant squeezed his shoulder with one hand, waving to the sea of cheering people with the other. It was uncomfortable… but Jihoon didn’t move away or protest. Even if they hated each others guts, at least in this situation, it was best to put on a show.

Seungcheol dropped his hands after a moment, holding a heroic stance as the people called his name.

 A reporter stepped forward, notepad and pen at the ready. “Sergeant Coups! Is it true you were hesitant to join the clap program at first?”

He leaned into the table of microphones, speaking confidently, as if he hadn’t been throwing a tantrum over the situation hours earlier.

“That is true. I was hesitant about re-releasing criminals back into society... However, this was because I was worried it could put our good citizens in danger!” He grinned, scanning the crowd with bright blue eyes. “As a protector of this City, I want only the best for future generations. And by helping ex-criminals turn to the side of good, I believe we’ll be seeing a bright future ahead!”

The crowd cheered, eating up every word. Another reporter stepped up to the plate afterwards. “Is it true that your new sidekick is none other than ex-criminal Paladin? who you yourself defeated? Do you think your past will impede any future teamwork?”

Jihoon looked up curiously at Sergeant, who smiled down at him with a friendly gaze. “It’s true that we were enemy’s in the past. But I hold no grudge towards those who strive to better themselves.”

Was… was this guy serious?

Jihoon felt himself seething. Where was this attitude when Jihoon was begging to let bygones be bygones before? He would rather kill him than work together!

“Paladin! Is it true that all the money you’d stolen was donated to charity?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat. “No comment. That’s-“

He stopped as Jihoon had raised his hand. Seungcheol looked to him with a warning expression, but Jihoon simply smirked at him in return.

He lifted his chin and smiled bright, ignoring the Sergeant’s threatening words as he leaned into the microphone. “I can’t confirm or deny... But, I’ve never had bad intentions. Just the wrong means of execution.”

The crowd went mad at his words, but Jihoon’s expression never wavered, looking back up at the Sergeant, who’s eyes shun bright cyan, smile twitching. He was angry, obviously. Yet, something about the fact that he couldn’t do anything as long as the cameras were on, had Jihoon feeling giddy with confidence.

“Paladin! You’ve changed your look a lot since being detained! What will you be calling yourself now that you’re entering the superhero scene?”

Seungcheol, despite himself trembling with anger on the inside, held his professional stance firm. He announced in an almost excited-sounding tone. “Good citizens of Seoul City! I would like to formally introduce you all to my new crime-fighting partner. No longer will he be called Paladin. From today forward, he will be known as Private Hoon. I would like you all to refer to him as such from now on.”

Jihoon felt his stomach knot at that, cursing to himself as he felt his cheeks heating up. It was supposed to be a joke! Did these Mansae bastards really not understand what a joke was?

“Sergeant! Private! Can you two get close for a picture?”

“Of course!” He stepped to the side, dragging Jihoon with him, before pulling him into a side-hug, waving and smiling towards the many shuttering cameras. Jihoon followed his lead, slinking an arm around his ‘partner’s’ waist as a friendly, public display of truce.

Sergeant whispered to him, smile held clear. “You’re dead later, hear me?”

Jihoon felt the hand on his shoulder squeezing painfully. His smile held firm, whispering back as he waved to the crowd. “If I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me. We're in this together, after all.” He took a moment to lean closer to the Sergeants side, looking up at him with an innocent smile. “Isn’t that right, Partner?”