To work undercover, detectives ideally leave everything of their official lives behind. Single people won’t leave as much, if anything should happen. Fewer strings attached to worry about and be worried by. It’s a great idea; Chanyeol supports it, sort of, because he believes that the greater good is important enough to risk personal safety sometimes, but the individuals are just as important, and when he’s approached by his captain, he’s excited and terrified.

He looks to be a great candidate for an undercover assignment. Physically fit, intelligent, personable enough to easily gain trust and access, but the captain doesn’t know he isn’t actually single.

And his partner, he knows, is similarly misunderstood. Neither say anything, as they’re briefed and given their cover stories. Working together is dangerous, even when not undercover, but the idea is that one will go under first and help the other get introductions. Their job is to monitor and report suspicious activity.

Considering most of the clientele, everything is suspicious.

Chanyeol takes the name Jung Sejoo, a previously frequent visitor to juvenile detention centers, and buses tables or helps man the bar in the evening while Kyungsoo embraces his role as the slightly unhinged Lee Joonyoung, staying in the kitchen and eavesdropping on their co-workers. It’s good cover for them both and not too far out of their characters. Chanyeol is chatty and friendly; Kyungsoo likes knives.

They haven’t worked together undercover, but Chanyeol’s only heard and given praise for Do Kyungsoo. He’s a dedicated worker, devoted to his family and the public’s safety. Before entering the police academy, he entertained a notion of joining his family’s restaurant business. It didn’t pan out, so after his stint in the military, he applied for the academy and became a very good officer.

Chanyeol has a similar story, although his isn’t as clear-cut. He did a bit of this and that, putting off his mandatory service until he had no better options. He ended up enjoying being a public servant and found himself under Kyungsoo’s watchful eye.

Years of traffic duty, bar brawls, natural disasters, and traffic accidents later, they end up in the major crimes unit. One of the most major of the major crimes is drug trafficking. Some small-time crooks peddle their wares in the poorer parts of the city or in clubs, but it’s only recently that the police know where the product even comes from.

The Monster gang evolved from kkangpae street thugs beating up stall owers for “protection money” to a much more organized geondal. They send and receive product to their northern neighbors and China and distribute to local clients.

All that’s known about the Monster boss, called Boss Kim, is that he’s the eldest son of four and is a wine connoisseur as well as soccer fan. His record is spotless; no one convicts a man for having shady friends or having a lot of money.

Chanyeol and Kyungsoo are assigned to figure out how the drugs are moved and, ultimately, to shut down the operation.

No merchandise means no customers, although the reality that addicts will always find their fix sits in the back of everyone’s minds.

Chanyeol applies directly to the restaurant, using an informant to introduce him as someone just down on his luck and looking for a job. Other places reject him based on his past. If he was himself and not Sejoo, he’d never set foot in such a place.

It’s a dingy hole-in-the-wall type of place. Perfect for the greasy criminal underbelly to fill its belly with equally greasy food. The lights are kept low, so the literal holes and cracks in the walls aren’t as noticeable. Doors divide the main eating area from the kitchen, staff room, storage, restrooms, cellar, and back exit.

Taking a different approach, Kyungsoo works for five months at the butcher shop known to supply meat to the gang-owned restaurant. After standing up to Boss Kim over the quality of his cuts, he’s bought as a chef. His side job, according to the gossipy busboy Sehun, is part of a clean up crew.

After months of minimum wage and poor tips, Chanyeol has only learned that yes, the Monster gang is involved. He’s not had the opportunity to actively investigate, however, and he’s getting antsy. He likes his job as a detective, because he can do stuff. This undercover work puts him in a completely different life and lifestyle. It’s hard to shake his usual habits and instincts.

It doesn’t help that since Kyungsoo has taken over the kitchen that the food has been gaining attention, and not the bad kind. Word of mouth sings praises for the cultural fusions of the cuisine and the traditional meals that would make strict grandmothers smile.

He’s used to Kyungsoo’s cooking. He knows it’s good. He just wishes Kyungsoo would dial it back a little and said as much while sharing a pack of beer by the river one night.

“I didn’t think this job would be so hard.”

“You worked in your parents’ restaurant, didn’t you?”

“I worked the register, if anything. I was really just there to draw in customers. My parents have my good looks to than—” Chanyeol clenches his jaw and groans, gently cradling his arm. That’s probably going to bruise. He is grateful Kyungsoo didn’t hit his cheek this time.

“Your good looks came from your parents. You should be more grateful.”

“Yes, hyung.” Lee Joonyoung is older than Jung Sejoo. Chanyeol’s pretty sure that was Kyungsoo’s idea. He pulls up his sleeve but only sees red flesh. It’ll probably turn purple within a couple minutes.

He loves his partner. Kyungsoo is an amazing cop and an even better friend. As a friend, however, Kyungsoo subscribes to the “hard truths” and “love hurts” mentalities. One would assume by looking at him that he’s just a sweet, kind little man, but he’s more than ready to knock anyone flat on their back with all of his fifteen-plus years of judo.

Chanyeol is a pacifist. He’s not entirely sure how he became a police officer, but he enjoys it, usually. The pay isn’t great, but the benefits make up for it, somewhat.

Kyungsoo picks up the empty beer cans from between their feet and drops them into the plastic convenience store bag. He hands Chanyeol one of the two final cans and opens the other for himself.

“Have you heard from your contact, lately?”

“No.” Kyungsoo his lips and sighs. “And I’m worried.”

“Boss Kim wouldn’t really do anything, if he found out, would he?” He burps. “He’s not that bad of a bad guy…”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“His own brother, though…” A woman jogs passed with a dog leashed to her waist. Neither pay either man any attention, which hurts Chanyeol’s pride a little.

Kyungsoo stares at the grass reaching from a crack in the pavement between his feet. Some sort of flower had blossomed earlier; it’s withered and unrecognizable, now. “‘The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.’”

“What?”

“Family doesn’t mean to a guy who makes his millions killing people and destroying cities.” Kyungsoo finishes his beer in record time and crushes the can in his fist. It’s actually rather disgusting and more than a little intimidating, but Chanyeol feels his heart race.

“Are you going back to the restaurant tonight?”

“I was planning on it. Someone’s been helping themselves to the wine, so I’ve been keeping track of inventory.”

“Oh, alright.”

“What’s on your mind?”

Chanyeol shrugs. “Nothing. I was just gonna invite you back to my place, but you’re busy, so.” He shrugs again and slips his empty can into the bag.

“We’re not supposed to know one another that well.”

“I was thinking more Netflix and chill, not social security and banking information.” He knows them both already, anyway. Chanyeol is even Kyungsoo’s emergency contact. “Besides, that guy Baekhyun has been ogling you ever since he met you.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo props his foot on the bench to tie his laces. “He’s been hitting on me, too.”

“So hit him back!”

“Chanyeol, are you jealous?”

“Yes, I am, and I admit it whole-heartedly.” He’s been undercover before, but it’s been relatively brief. Drug busts, solicitation stake outs, kidnapping payment drop offs… Nothing his personal relationship status ever played a part in. For this assignment—initially just observation but now a full-fledged restaurant business endeavor—it will last as long as it has to; there is no set deadline and no end in sight. Chanyeol has to be Jung Sejoo, a single man with a record of burglary and larceny. Someone willing to do anything for money. Not someone even remotely romantic.

“I heard what he’s been saying to you,” he continues. “Pick up lines related to food! ‘Know what’s on the menu? Me-n-u.’” Barf. “Even better: ‘You’re my missing ingredient.’ How greasy can a guy get?”

Kyungsoo is unaffected. “You’ve used similar lines before.”

“Yeah, and they actually worked for me.”

A cruise ship churns slowly upriver, lit with white rope lights that reflect off the water. He’s lived in the city for most of his life but never booked a river cruise. There’s likely a live band and catered food on board, and It’s probably gorgeous at night, colored lights and dark shadows hiding the scum he hunts during the day.

“Well, don’t worry so much. He’s not my type, and Lee Sejoo has a thing for tall men, too.” Baekhyun has nothing on Chanyeol in that department. To reassure him further, Kyungsoo cups Chanyeol’s jaw and kisses him with just enough persistence and tongue to make his toes curl in his boots. “I’ll see you at the restaurant in the morning.”

Chanyeol watches him leave in a daze. He stuffs the bag of their cans into a trash can and puts his hands in his pockets, letting his arms hang casually like he didn’t just wipe a man’s mind of all coherent thoughts.

His burner phone buzzes in his pocket with a text from his boss. He and Kyungsoo are supposed to check in every couple of days.

If he can believe what he’s reading, Kyungsoo hasn’t checked in for two weeks.

There’s no time to ask him about it the next morning. Joonyoung is ruling the kitchen with an iron fist and a paring knife, schooling a pair of women on how to peel and cut fruit without wasting so much of the meat. If they were men, they’d probably be crying, but the women are both pink-cheeked and determined to impress the chef.

Chanyeol jumps when a twisted towel snaps at his hip.

“Jung! Quit daydreaming and take this to table nine.” Kyungsoo, as Joonyoung, rules the kitchen while Kibum rules the floor, a lazy sort of maitre’d with smarmy charm. He’s nicer than he acts, but he still fits in with most of the crowd the restaurant pulls in. Chanyeol asked one of the other waiters about the scar on Kibum’s eyebrow, once, and for anyone else, it’d be too wild to even be plausible. Kibum just has that wild vibe about him, though, that makes Chanyeol believe even the more outrageous stories.

He should review his contract, if he had one. When he’s not on the floor, playing waiter, busboy, and bartender, he’s called to restock napkins, glasses, silverware, ingredients, and alcohol in the back. It’s usually Kibum’s job, for some reason, but he says he has a bad hangover and can’t bend over without wanting to puke or pass out, so he volunteers Chanyeol and grabs Sehun to take his place on the floor.

An unassuming truck is parked in the alley behind the dingy restaurant. Rust smears around the rivets holding the back end together, and it was probably once all white, which is a poor choice for any vehicle that leaves its garage.

The usual delivery worker is a jovial man named Jinki who is much stronger than he looks but always admires Chanyeol for never dropping anything, even when carrying three crates of wine at once.

They empty the truck together; Chanyeol signs a delivery receipt, and he stretches his sore muscles as Jinki carefully backs out of the alley.

Loading the dolly again, Chanyeol pushes his glasses up his sweaty nose and tries to make as much room as possible in their store room. Before their surge of popularity, everything could fit, and there would still be a lot unused and wasted. Now, they very nearly climb over things to reach something else, and there are more nooks for undesirable characters to hide.

Such as the rat that squeaks when Chanyeol runs over its tail.

The crates teeter at the jarring stop, but he manages to catch the middle one and save the bottom crate, as well.

But the top crate sat too far to the left and drops to the cement floor. Stapled wood splinters; packing material expands out of the new openings and soaks up wine from the shattered bottles.

Strangely, there doesn’t seem to be much of a puddle. Maybe they didn’t all break, and Chanyeol can salvage the situation a bit.

Prying open the crate, the carefully picks the larger broken pieces away, but all of the bottles are broken. Clinging to the interior of the bottles are small, red plastic bags.

And it clicks.

Boss Kim is an oenophile. As well as this restaurant, he has a vineyard. It struck Chanyeol as strange when he was learning about the Monster boss, and Kyungsoo had pointed out that while Korea is similar to two world-class wine regions, Spain and New Zealand, in that its latitude aligns it with the two nations and is hemmed in by ocean on two sides, it just doesn’t have the climate needed for producing quality viniculture. Their winters are too harsh and summers are too humid.

The restaurant sells wine by the bottle and glass. Drugs are manufactured and packaged, at the vineyard or elsewhere, and placed inside the wine bottles to be delivered. Sifting through the broken crate, Chanyeol finds four of the red bags, so two to four bottles in every crate are probably carrying contraband. Busting apart glass is a small price for attaining hundreds of thousands of won-worth of drugs.

It’s the first real breakthrough they’ve had since going undercover.

If the barrel pressed between his shoulders means what he thinks it does, it may be their last breakthrough.

“Kibum. What are you doing?” Joonyoung scowls from the doorway. He must have started on the chickens planned for dinner; there’s a boning knife in his hand, and he looks murderous enough to bone Kibum.

“This klutz has been making a mess of things since he started.”

“Leave him alone. Boss will talk to him.”

The gun pushes more insistently into his spine. “Are we supposed to just trust him?”

“Leave him alone,” the chef reiterates slowly, leaving no room for argument. “Boss will talk to him.” He gestures down the hall with the knife. “Get back up front and no your job. Send Taemin back here to help clean up.”

Kibum scoffs but obeys, muttering the whole time. The gun finds its home in a holster around his waist. No wonder he bends funny.

“Since when does he take orders from you, hyung?”

“Shut up.” Kyungsoo crouchs beside Chanyeol and picks the red bags from the bottles. “Let’s talk later.”

“You haven’t checked in; the boss is worried.”

“Trust me for now.” Pocketing the drugs, he waves Sehun inside. “Clean this up and get back to work.”

Sehun lets Chanyeol pick up all the glass and finds a mops to soak up the wine and smear it across the floor with soapy water. They work silently. Chanyeol doesn’t call Sehun out for perching on some crates and scrolling through his phone. His own thoughts are occupying his mind. Thoughts about what he’s discovered.

Thoughts about what Kyungsoo knows and hasn’t revealed to him.

---

p>a/n: Written for zwolftenaugust, as part of the Yeolliepopday exchange. (prompt: Detectives work under cover in a joint to try and bust a gang of organized criminals. things take an unexpected turn when their new recipe suddenly transforms the run-down restaurant into the hottest eatery in town. extreme job!au.)

This prompt was inspired by a movie that came out a couple months ago (Extreme Job/Geukhanjikeob), which I'd like to watch eventually. Having not seen it and not heard of it until receiving the prompts, I kinda worked with the prompt itself more than the movie plot.

Chanyeol's undercover alias, Lee Sejoo, is his character in Memories of the Alhambra. Kyungsoo's undercover alias, Jung Joonyoung, is his character in Hello Monster.