People go to house parties and are never heard from again. It’s a problem. Jongin’s investigation finds no commonalities—not status, race, creed, any sort of affiliation—except that many disappear from the same house.

Baekhyun’s.

Unfortunately for the investigating officer, Baekhyun is more competitive than cooperative. Everything needs to be a game, and he always has to win.

It’s that quality that is both infuriating to personally experience and endearing to otherwise watch.

Jongin hoped he could just talk to Baekhyun quietly and calmly like equals, but he really should have known better and just handcuffed him right away.

After chasing Baekhyun around and finally caging him against a telephone pole, Jongin stands tall and looks down at the mischievous alpha. “Just come with me,or—Tell me what you know,” he says, “so I can help.” There’s an edge to his voice, his patience cracking.

“Intimidation tactics?” Baekhyun’s hands slip around Jongin’s waist, pulling his shirt from his pants. “I’m into it.”

Jongin pushes Baekhyun’s shoulder and catches one of the hands under his shirt. “Stop resisting.”

“Make me!” Baekhyun takes the hand on his shoulder and spins beneath it, letting go before it’d dislocate and lightly kicking Jongin’s .

His smile speaks volumes. This is fun!

Shifting, he rips his clothes free and takes off with a bark. Catch me if you can!

Jongin knows he’s being baited. Tested. Typical Baekhyun, always pushing boundaries as well as his luck.

“See if this suits your fancy…” Leveling his weapon, he sees something like fear before Baekhyun turns to sprint.

A dart strikes his flank.

The effects are immediate. After a few clumsy steps, his paws become too heavy to move, and he trips to the ground.

Jongin crouches beside him and picks the dart out. “Good boy.”

That’s cheating…. Baekhyun lifts his lip and passes out.

Carefully, Jongin gathers the deadweight wolf into his arms—he’s heavier than he looks.

Just as soft, though.

He’s careful as he carries Baekhyun to his car and drives to headquarters, keeping a hand on the tawny fur both to keep the slumbering body from rolling to the floor and just to pet him.

No one questions him carrying in a shifted wolf. There’s no reason, in their minds, to question an alpha’s decisions. They’re absolute. Practically law.

It’s dumb.

Jongin is about as typical alpha as a goldfish. He may let some of the senses seep out when working, but that’s really as a last resort or when his patience is thin—like when dealing with Baekhyun. Unfortunately, Baekhyun enjoys pushing Jongin’s buttons and being pushed up against walls or down on floors.

A more infuriating sort of alpha than the brutish, domineering sorts that most often get voted into political office or gain popularity as socialites.

It’s dumb.

Jongin picks the holding cell farthest from the others, so he can be alone with his suspect. He doesn’t bother with a leash, quickly grabbing spare clothes and bottled water before returning to wait for Baekhyun to wake up.

He’s nearly asleep himself when Baekhyun stirs and stretches with a low groan. Yellow eyes roll down to squint and focus on Jongin.

He gestures to the screen partition. “You can change back there.”

Baekhyun snorts and hops to the floor—less graceful then he’d like; he’s still fuzzy—and shifts right in front of Jongin.

“So what’s your deal?” he asks, holding the plain scrub pants over himself—they’re way too big but have a drawstring. “You didn’t have to shoot me,” he mutters petulantly and twists to look at his sore cheek. “What was that, anyway?”

“Tranquilizer dart. It’s more efficient than chasing people around.”

Baekhun hums as he tightens the drawstrings and ties them in a messy bow. “Fair enough, but if not running, how do you keep those long legs so fit?”

Jongin sighs. Aside from the typical differences among alphas, betas, and omegas, there are unique traits within each. Individual difference. Baekhyun is the sort of alpha to thrive off of attention. A pack animal more than a lone wolf. His type of person is simply the type that breathes.

When the officer again doesn’t rise to his bait, Baekhyun rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “So what now?”

“Now we talk.”

“Oh, goodie. I love to talk. What should we talk about?” His eyes sparkle until Jongin passes him the white T-shirt. He frowns—more of a pout—and puts both arms through the shirt before pulling it over his head. “Well?”

“Tell me about the people who go to your parties and never make it home.”

“I don’t know anything about that.” Baekhyun runs a hand through his hair, feeling for any mess while looking around for a mirror but finding none.

“You don’t deny it happens.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny anything—I read the papers. It’s all anyone wants to talk about. Dig into the personal lives of the affluent to distract them from their own sad, pointless lives.” He spreads his hands and shrugs. “Nothing to do with me.”

Jongin shakes his head. “Lots to do with you, as alpha of your household. Nothing could possibly happen without you knowing.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I really wish I could help, officer.”

“Then help me,” Jongin pleads. He’s so tired, and there’s no indication of the abductions stopping any time soon. “Cooperate. Dodging my questions just makes you look worse and digs a deeper hole for yourself.”

“I am cooperating! Just because I’m not saying what you want to hear doesn’t mean I’m lying; I’d be lying if I did say what you wanted.” He throws out an arm, gesturing to the single little window. “You know what my house is like! There are rooms I’ve never even been in!” It is a ridiculously large, multilevel monstrosity of opulence and superficial status. Jongin can find the kitchen, Baekhyun’s bedroom, and one bathroom on his own; otherwise he gets lost.

Jongin drops back in his chair and slouches. His only real lead is not turning out to be all that helpful.

He catches the weight on his lap around the waist and sighs. “Hyung, I’m working.”

“I can see that, and you’re doing a super job, aside from shooting my , but you’re also stressed so much you’re getting lines on your forehead.” Baekhyun takes Jongin’s face and draws his thumbs over Jongin’s cheeks. He always loves having his muzzle massaged; it’s a bit different with such a short face but no less relaxing.

When Jongin is thoroughly putty and nearly sliding clear off his chair, Baekhyun kisses his nose and gets to his feet.

“Let’s go home. I really don’t know anything about this,” his eyes flash yellow, “but I will make sure everyone cooperates with your investigation.”

a/n: Written for the crescent moon (short) round of Strawberry Moon Fest.

This idea sounded better in my head, but here it is. My second? A/B/O sort of work. Not usually my scene, but I figured I'd just give it a shot.

As far as I'm aware, no cops use tranquilizer darts, and I think it would be much more efficient than just shooting people.