He wore a blazer for his date two days later. Those two days felt like an eternity. But he hadn’t wanted to rush things with Jinki, or scare him away, and when he’d called the night of the delivery he’d only wanted to schedule a date on a day that worked for both of them.

“Hold still,” Kibum commanded, working styling gel through Minho’s hair and coifing it perfectly. “I’m trying to not make you look like a bum for Onew.”

“Black or blue?” Taemin asked from across the room, holding up the two nicest blazers that Minho owned.

He hadn’t exactly asked either Kibum or Taemin to help him get ready for his date. He wasn’t a sixteen year old girl before her first date. But having them sort of did help calm his nerves, which were flying out of control.

“Blue,” Kibum said without looking. “Black will make Minho look too pale.”

“Guys.” Minho pushed at Kibum’s hand. “I’m going to be late.”  He really wasn’t, but he couldn’t just stand still and let his friends fuss over him anymore. He had to get out, walk around, and he had to do it before he had a meltdown.

“Should we talk about a curfew?” Taemin asked Kibum as Minho slid his blazer on. It was still ridiculously hot outside, and a jacket was probably a bad idea, but he wanted to impress Jinki. He wanted to look his best. He had to.

Kibum laughed at the suggestion as Minho said snappishly, “How about we talk about your curfew, Taemin? It’s supposed to be ten. What time did you come home last night?”

Taemin made a run for the door without more than a squeak. 

Jinki didn’t actually live all that far away. Minho probably could have driven the distance in the blink of an eye, but he shared a car with Kibum, and they tried to use it primarily only for the their work. And the more Minho thought about it, the less comfortable he was with getting into a car after one had nearly killed Jinki. 

Only sweating a little, Minho arrived at Jinki’s apartment in less than half an hour, and was pleasantly surprised to see it was a bright looking building. In a way, with it’s stark  white outlines and surrounding greenery, it fit Jinki. It seemed to Minho only Jinki would be able to find an apartment in Seoul that looked more like a greenhouse than anything else.

“Minho!”

“Jinki?” Minho frowned, surprised to see the other down at the entrance to the building. 

“You’re early,” Jinki said, and Minho could see a satchel over his shoulder. “I was running out really quick. Before you got here.” He blushed a pretty red and said, “You look really good.”

Minho  fisted his hands in his pants and returned the smile Jinki had given him, apologizing, “I was really nervous. I didn’t want to sit around with Kibum and Taemin and imagine all the ways I could mess tonight up. So I came to walk around for a while.” He pointed to the satchel. “You’re going to the store?”

Jinki made his way quickly to Minho’s side, and with some confidence let his arm link through Minho’s. “You told me I could decide what we do, and I did decide. I’m going to cook for you tonight.”

Minho had never had a date cook for him, and the idea was more than a little foreign to him. He’d been on dates to plenty of restaurants, but no one had ever cooked for him. The concept was intimate, but Minho liked the idea after a little more thought.

Jinki added, “I forgot a couple of ingredients. Do you … maybe want to come with me?”

“Won’t that ruin anything?”  Was Jinki the kind of guy who wanted to get all dressed up before a date? Did he still have to clean his place? Minho tried to figure out how early he was now. Maybe an hour.

“No.” Jinki shook his head, propelling them forward. “And maybe I should have been a little clearer. When I said I was going to cook for you, I meant we were going to cook together.”

Minho tucked in a little closer to Jinki and said, “I’m not nearly as boring as Kibum will try to tell you. I’ll try anything once.“ He made Jinki promise to let him carry the basket when they reached the  market, and thought maybe he didn’t have anything to fear.

Talking to Jinki as they walked along was easy. His bubbly personality and his friendliness made Minho want to spill all his secrets without worrying about the repercussions, and Jinki was also a terrific listener. He listened quietly and without interruption as Minho explained how he and Kibum had gotten into the investigative business, instead of pursuing a career with law enforcement. 

“I think it’s admirable,” Jinki said, taking pause to point out that the store was just up ahead. “To know that you wanted to help people since you were so small. That’s really great!”

Minho took the small basket near the entrance and let Jinki direct him where to go, asking, “You didn’t want to be in the catering business when you were young?”

Jinki shrugged. “I like making people happy, and good food makes people the happiest. When I go to work, I go knowing that I’ve made someone’s day a little brighter by ensuring that they have good food to comfort them. But I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I was little. Maybe be a superhero, like all little kids.”

Minho moved a packet of soy into their basket at Jinki’s command and said fondly, “I guess I did too. So did my older brother. You must be right.”

“You have a brother?” Jinki asked excitedly.

To Minho, it felt like they’d been friends forever. It felt like he could tell Jinki anything. And stories from his childhood were no exception. “An older brother. We were close when we were young.”

Jinki rubbed his hands together. “That must have been so nice.”

The comment made Minho pause, head slanted. “You’re an only child?”

“Maybe.” Jinki leaned over to add something to the basket. “I don’t know.” He corrected, “Not that I know of, I mean. I don’t know anything about my parents. I grew up in a boy’s home here in Seoul and they didn’t have any information on the people who left me there as a baby.”

Minho felt his gut clench. Who could ever abandon someone like Jinki?

“Don’t look so glum!” Jinki gave Minho a soft pat to the arm. “I grew up happy, I promise! I had lots of friends, some of them I even work with now. I really was happy.”

“Still,” Minho mused, “it must have been hard for you.”

Jinki’s head ducked a little, and it was all the validation Minho needed. 

After they finished their shopping, and Minho reluctantly let Jinki pay for the groceries, they headed back to the sunny looking apartment with their hands linked. It almost felt like it was something they did every day.

“This is my apartment,” Jinki said, leading Minho into his second floor home.

Minho wasn’t really sure what he’d expected. Maybe bright yellow wallpaper and cute fluffy stuffed animals, but not the clean, smooth lines of a well thought out décor. There wasn’t a lot of furniture, and even less decoration, but everything was spotless. Silver framed photos hung on the wall, and the floral smell of fresh plant life was in the air. The deeper Minho moved into the apartment the more potted herbs he began to identify, along with the flowers purely for aesthetics’ sake. 

“I don’t really spend a lot of time here,” Jinki admitted. “I work a lot. But I like the way the plants smell.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, slipping off his blazer and hanging it up nearby. The flowers were almost as beautiful as Jinki.

With the sun setting fast Jinki situated Minho next to him in the kitchen, spread their ingredients out, and got to work.

“You’re a really good cook,” Minho observed once they’d started several complex dishes and were well on their way to eating. “How did you learn?”

Jinki hummed a little, working on the Tteokguk soup they’d eat first. “When I was little there were so many of us that it was hard to get a warm meal. No one ever went hungry, but if you weren’t prepared to use some dirty tactics to cut the line, you typically ended up with cold meat. But I learned that if I helped out in the kitchen, to make the meals, then I usually got to eat before everyone else. I guess I just picked up a lot of different dishes. And truthfully I like cooking.”

Minho watched Jinki’s hands as they worked a knife furiously over some vegetables. His fingers were long and sturdy, but eloquent in a way. Never before had Minho thought that he could appreciate someone’s hands, but there was no denying that everything about Jinki was admirable.

“We’re almost finished,” Jinki said once the first three dishes were complete. He pointed to a nearby cabinet and said, “Could you get down the dishes for us?”

Reaching for dishes with his height was easy. What he hadn’t anticipated was that Jinki would be in the same vicinity as him so suddenly. Though in hindsight the kitchen was fairly small, and Jinki was quick.

They bumped into each other with a groan and Minho dropped the dishes instinctively, reaching out to catch Jinki instead. He kept his hand wrapped strongly around the shorter male and righted them both on their feet.

“Sorry!” Jinki apologized profusely, drawing himself out of Minho’s arms. “I’m so clumsy!”

“Your dishes,” Minho bemoaned, looking own at the beautiful smashed bowls. “I dropped them.”

Jinki knelt down and with careful hands he began to pick up the pieces. “It’s not your fault, Minho. I’m really clumsy. My friends say I have a condition. They joke about it all the time.”

“Careful.”

Minho knelt next to him and stilled his hands. “It was my fault. I’ll replace everything. I knew something like this would happen.” He’d gone and ruined everything now. There was no way Jinki would even consider letting him back over.

“Minho.”

There was a softness to Jinki’s voice that had Minho freezing, meeting his gaze and then nodding slowly. “I still feel bad.”

“It’s just dishes,” Jinki said gently, pulling Minho up to his feet. “The food is going to get cold, let’s eat.”

Over bowls of noodles, fresh vegetables, meat, soup and the half dozen other dishes Jinki had masterfully prepared, Minho began to forget about his earlier clumsiness. 

Jinki said, through bites of Japchae, “I really want to travel one day,” and all Minho could think of was the promise he and Kibum had made each other in school one year to visit either Europe or America. 

“You just want to visit other countries to sample all the food,” Minho teased, daring to press his foot against Jinki’s just slightly.

“True,” Jinki laughed.  “Especially America. They have amazing chicken.”

Jinki had a love affair with chicken apparently. Minho thought that was adorable.

Dinner was an amazing thing, as far as Minho was concerned. Jinki was well spoken, funny, compassionate and all of the things that were definitely Minho’s type. He smiled a lot, laughed even more, and he made Minho feel better just by being in the same room.

Maybe it was possible to fall in love with someone without actually knowing them. He was on his way to learning about Jinki, but they were practically strangers still. And yet his heart beat out of his chest every time Jinki spoke, or touched him gently, or even just looked at him.

“Ice cream,” Minho said. “We should get ice cream.”

Jinki looked to the clock in the corner. “Isn’t it a little late?”

Minho shrugged, feeling brave. He offered a hand down to Minho. “We should wash the dishes and go get some ice cream. I know a place open late, and it’s still hot outside. Do you want to?”

Would Jinki say no? They’d already spent hours together now. Longer than dates usually went. Minho was having a good time, but that didn’t mean Jinki was. And Jinki seemed the kind of person too polite to say otherwise. 

With a firm grip Jinki took his hand and stood up, declaring, “The dishes can wait. Let’s get that ice cream now.”

“Well?” Kibum demanded the second Minho was home and through the door to their office.

“Kibum!” Minho startled visibly, not expecting the male to be in the office at all. It was well after sunset and Kibum was usually early to bed. “What are you doing here? Were you waiting up for me?”

Kibum’s eyebrows rose.  “Because I would have predicted you’d come to the office, and not to your bed?” Kibum tapped a packet in front of him. “Got a second case while you were gone. I was looking into it. I couldn’t sleep.”

Minho popped the buttons on his sleeve cuffs and reached for the file. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

“Who cares about that,” Kibum waved off. “How’d your date go? It’s pretty late. Did you kiss him?”

Minho ignored the questions, flipping through the file’s information. “Kibum,” he said quietly. “We don’t usually take these cases.”

“No,” Kibum sighed, “but the police won’t investigate the matter any further, and it can’t hurt for us to take a shot at it. You never know.”

Minho wondered, “Is this why you’re still up? Kibum, we’ve never been able to solve a missing person case. We’re not really suited for the job. You know better, and it just hurts more when we have to tell the client that we wasted a few months of their time.”

Missing person cases hit too close to home, and as a rule, they tried not to take them.

“Who’s the client?” Minho wondered, looking for the information sheet. “Lee Jaehwan?  Who went missing?”

Kibum stood, taking the file back. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. And stop evading the question. Tell me about your date.”

Minho wrapped an arm around Kibum and let him to the staircase at the back of the office that that led up to their residence. 

“We made dinner together,” Minho said, recalling the night. “Maybe some people would find that cheesy, but it was really nice. We got to talk a lot while we made dinner, and it tasted great. Then we went for a walk, and got ice cream and it was nice. Is that what you want to hear? It was really nice.”

Kibum paused at the door that sealed off their residence from the office space. “Nice? Come on, you’ve known me long enough to know that’s not what I want to hear? Tell me there was kissing. Choi Minho, if you didn’t kiss Onew I’m going to be very upset.”

Minho stilled, able to recall perfectly in his mind the way that he’d walked Jinki up to his door after the ice cream and told him what a great time he’d had. The words had all just rushed out, and maybe he’d sounded a little desperate, but he’d let Jinki walk out of his life once before. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He’d wanted to Jinki to know that he wanted a second date more than anything else.

He hadn’t planned to kiss Jinki. It was too hard to tell if Jinki was the kind of guy who wanted to kiss on the first date or not. It was too much of a risk.

Then Jinki had reached for his hand and said, “I haven’t been able to be myself with someone I like for a very long time. Thank you, Minho. For everything.”

“Minho?” Kibum asked, jarring him back to the present. 

Minho shook his head. “I didn’t kiss him.” He waited until Kibum’s face fell to add, “He kissed me.”

Kibum’s eyes widened. “My little Onew?”

With a push to Kibum’s shoulder, Minho laughed out, “Your little Onew? Jinki is older than you, Kibum. And he’s not your anything.”

“He’s totally my Onew!”

As Kibum surged ahead, Minho replayed the perfect moment in his mind when Jinki had leaned up and kissed his cheek, just catching the edge of Minho’s mouth. He’d drawn back almost achingly slow and said, “I had a great time with you tonight, Minho. I want to do it again.”

Kibum shuffled off to his bed and Minho, after brushing his teeth and changing for bed, found a sprawled out Taemin already dozing in his room. 

Minho rolled carefully onto the bed and nudged Taemin over, getting himself comfortable as Taemin asked, “Did you have a good date?”

“I did.” Minho wondered if he’d spend the whole night thinking about the kiss. “So go to bed.  You have school tomorrow.”

“Good,” Taemin yawned, “because I like Onew. We should keep him.”

Minho mumbled, “That’s the plan,” and found himself drifting off to sleep much easier than he’d thought possible.

The following morning Minho slept in for the first time in years. Kibum was easily the more maternal of the two of them, following after Taemin most days like a he was practicing for the day he had his own children, but Minho found it a necessity to get up along with them for the breakfast meal. They always ate together, Minho always encouraged Taemin’s studies, and he and Kibum always picked up around the apartment before heading downstairs to work. It was a routine.

When Minho woke the day after his date with Jinki it was to a satisfying feeling of laziness, a perfectly quiet apartment, and the smell of long eaten food in the air. With a yawn he rolled out of bed and quickly searched through the empty apartment.

“You let me sleep in,” Minho accused fifteen minutes later, dressed and hungry. He entered their office space with slightly dragging feet and leaned casually against Kibum’s desk.

“You slept in all on your own,” Kibum said, laying out two folders in front of them. “And you deserved it, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” He gave Minho an encouraging smile. “Baby Taemin is all grown up. He’s able to get to school on time without your nagging.”

Minho flicked playfully at Kibum and moved to the far corner of the office to start tea.  “You’re one to talk about nagging.”

“You know,” Kibum sighed out, leaning back in his chair, “it’s hard to imagine he’ll be going to college next year.”

“If he scores well on his exams.”

Kibum scoffed, “He will.”

With tea made, Minho leaned himself back against Kibum’s desk, feeling casual in a way that he hadn’t in a long time, and pointed down at the two folders. “Our two open cases right now?”

The first must have been the young woman Minho had seen briefly the day of Jinki’s accident. She’s asked to be called Jessica. The second had to be the missing person case. 

“Do you want the clichéd my boyfriend is cheating on me and I want proof case? Or the …”

Minho snatched the second from Kibum before he could finish. There was no way he was letting Kibum handle another missing person case.

“You scheduled an in-person interview today?” Minho asked, flipping through the information.

“At nine,” Kibum confirmed. “with Lee Jaehwan. About some kid, I think the name was Jung Taekwoon.”

Minho lifted himself from Kibum’s desk and made his way to his own. He was hungry, but it was too close to the appointment window to risk going out for something quick. It would have to wait.

“And check your phone!” Kibum called out. “It’s been going off for the past few hours. Jinki really enjoyed his date. He wants to do it again. Also, do you want to get lunch with him? You should go visit him at work. He promises his coworkers will be really nice to you.”

“Kibum!” 

Minho fished his phone out of his desk and found he had several cheery messages from Jinki.

“What?”

Minho held up his phone. “Stop reading my messages.”  His anger was quickly forgotten, however, as he scrolled through the messages, feeling happier with each one. It seemed he wasn’t the only one flying a little high after the date.

He shot a quick text back to Jinki, explaining how he’d overslept, but only because of how amazing the date had been, and then struggled for several minutes more on whether to add a parting message of how much he liked Jinki, or maybe an emoticon, or something. 

Eventually he let Kibum snatch the phone from his hand, type something quickly ,and then hand it back with a nod of satisfaction.

“I’ll meet you for lunch. Thanks for giving me something to look forward to this afternoon.” Minho raised an eyebrow. That was actually pretty thoughtful of Kibum. And nice. Then he saw the bottom part and ground out, “PS, Key is the best friend in the world and he totally deserves some awesome cake because he puts up with my moods all day long.”

“Bring something sweet home from your lunch date with Onew,” Kibum commanded. “And don’t worry about it getting to Taemin. I’ll eat it all before he gets home.”

“Like that’s any better.” 

A quick reply came from Jinki, a winking happy face, and it made Minho’s toes curl. 

Just before nine, with Minho busy looking into police reports about Jung Taekwoon’s disappearance, Kibum’s voice cut in, “Why are there so many of them?”

Minho’s head rose and he could see a line of boys headed into their office, five of them in fact, each as different as the next. 

A little uncertain, Minho looked from face to face. “Which of you is Lee Jaehwan?”

With a sad smile one of the boys stepped forward and said, “That’s me, but we’re all here for the same reason. You should talk to all of us. We all care.”

It was a first for Minho. He was used to one client, or two at the max, but he’d never had so many people before. There weren’t actually enough chairs for all of them,  but several of the boys seemed content enough to stand. Minho had never experienced so many weepy eyes or determined looks or fierce declarations of perseverance. 

“It’s been six weeks,” Lee  Jaehwan said, insisting on being called Ken. They all had nick names, the kind that they called each other fondly and expressed familiarity with. “The police won’t look anymore, mainly because Leo appears to have left by his own choice, and there was a large withdrawal from our bank account. The police think he took the money and left.”

“Leo? Jung Taekwoon?” he asked for clarification. He also noted the way Ken had referenced a shared bank account.

The darker skinned boy, N, protested, “There’s no way Leo would do something like that. I know it’s hard for you to understand, because of how it looks, but Leo isn’t that kind of person. He wouldn’t do that to us.”

N’s fingers twitched down at his side, and Ravi, the boy with the pink hair, reached up to grab them.

Something odd was going on. 

“We mean a lot to Leo,” the obviously youngest member of the group said, but Minho couldn’t recall his name, or the moniker the other boys used for him. “He wouldn’t leave us like this. Something went wrong. Something is wrong.”

N nodded. “We want you to find him.”

“Or,” Hongbin said, “find out what happened to him.”

“Find him,” Ken urged.  “Find him for us.”

Minho felt the lump gathering in his throat, wishing that Kibum wasn’t across the office, subtly listening to the conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Minho said, “I can’t make you that kind of promise. And to be perfectly honest with you, in these types of situations, very few recoveries are actually made. That’s the truth you deserve to hear. But you also need to know that I will do everything in my power to find Taekwoon. I will follow every lead through, I will leave no stone unturned, and I won’t give up. The police had their shot. Now it’s my turn.”

The youngest hid his face in his hands as N patted his back quietly, murmuring, “Don’t cry, Hyuk. We’re going to find him.”

“Whatever you need,” Ken said, “it’s yours. We have money. That’s not a problem.”

It was beginning to really bother him. The long looks between the boys, the way they touched each other and the language they used.

“I need your honesty,” Minho said, scribbling down some of his questions, both about the missing person and the group of boys in front of him. “If you hold back, and I don’t get a full picture, you’re going to drastically reduce my chances of finding your friend.”

Uncertain, Ravi asked, “What do you want to know?”

Straightening up, Minho cleared his throat and looked to Ken. “What’s the nature of your relationship with Leo? Are you friends or more?”

“More?” Ken asked, sharing a quick look with N.

“Honesty is crucial to finding him,” Minho repeated. 

Bluntly and with fortitude, N gripped Ravi’s hand tightly and said, “We love him.”

“Which of you?” Minho looked between them.

Hyuk gestured at his friends. “All of us.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Slowly, Hongbin repeated for Minho, “It’s really all of us.”

Minho frowned, still not sure if he understood.

“It’s what you’re not letting yourself think,” N clarified, visibly squeezing Ravi’s hand once more. 

That was … Minho wasn’t sure what to think. 

Interesting, maybe.

Unexpected, for sure. 

“So … the six of you …” What was the most delicate way to broach the topic? Minho wasn’t exactly known for being sensitive. But professional, he could do that. “The six of your, if I’m understanding you, were involved in a romantic relationship?”

“Were?” N asked. “We still are. Just because Leo is missing, doesn’t mean we stop being what we are.”

They all looked exceedingly nervous, and Minho could tell he’d just been privy to a heavily guarded secret. They needed reassurance he could keep it, or else they might not trust him with anything else.

Squaring his shoulders, Minho nodded. “Okay. Thank you for being honest. And be assured that anything you tell me, stays with me. This is all confidential.” He picked up his pen, moved his pad of paper closer to him and cleared his throat. “Tell me about the last time each of you saw him. What was the mood like? Any fights or disagreements?”

By the time Minho needed to leave to meet Jinki for lunch he was exhausted, starving and in desperate need of good company.

Jinki worked less than twenty minutes away, in a one story building that was bigger on the inside than it seemed from the out. When he arrived it seemed like Jinki hadn’t quite finished his work, but Minho was more than happy to stand around and watch the other male dictate work assignments, oversee schedules and actively thrive in his element.

“I’m sorry!” Jinki said, bowing slightly in apology when he was finally able to get away. “We had an order double at the last second. It’s a madhouse in here.”

Aware of the people around them, and not wanting to embarrass Jinki, Minho held back from taking his hand. Instead he asked, “Can you still get away for lunch?”

Jinki beamed. “Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

The closest place to Jinki’s shop was a noodle house, and while the food wasn’t the best Minho had ever had, the company was.

“You look tired,” Jinki said, shooting him a sympathetic look.

“I am,” Minho admitted, pushing around the food in his bowl. “I’m working a hard case.”

The restaurant was crowded, and the environment was making Minho’s skin start to crawl. He wasn’t exactly claustrophobic, but he was already worn thin, and so many people surrounding him was fraying his nerves. 

“Minho?”

Jinki reached out for contact with Minho, squeezing his hand gently. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Minho shook his head. “I can’t. It’s not that I won’t, I can’t. I make a promise to all my clients when I take their cases. Only Kibum gets to know. Not even Taemin.”

“Oh.”

“Jinki.” Minho let his fingers trail across Jinki’s open palm, exploring the groves and creases. “I would tell you if I could.” But even for Jinki, the person Minho wanted to be the most honest with, he couldn’t say anything. 

Jinki forced a smile immediately and drew away from Minho. “You’re right. I’m sorry for asking.”

“I can’t tell you anything specific,” Minho rationalized, pulling Jinki back. “But I can tell you it’s a missing person case. I hate them. I hate taking them.”

“It must be hard,” Jinki said quietly. “Did you have to take the case?”

Suddenly, Minho lost his appetite. “I didn’t take it. Kibum did. And he knows better, but he can’t help himself.”

“He can’t?”

The truth was, he knew why Kibum continued to torture himself, and it wasn’t fair. No one had ever blamed him, and forgiveness was something that should have come with time, even if there had been any blame. 

Minho said, “Kibum lost someone when he was young. That’s how he decided to become my partner. I wanted to do it to make a difference, and help people once the police couldn’t anymore. Kibum does this because he feels like he has to atone, or at the very least make sure no one else has to go through what he did as a kid.”

“But do you really find a lot of people that the police can’t?” Jinki asked, and Minho noted he was just stirring his noodles around as well. 

“No,” Minho said gruffly. “And that’s why I tell Kibum not to take the cases. I hate the look on the client’s face when we tell them all our time and resources were wasted for nothing.” Pushing at his hair with a frustrated huff Minho stood and held his hand out for Jinki. “Do you want to just go for a walk instead?”

Jinki nodded. “Can we get ice cream?”

“Ice cream,” Minho laughed, pulling Jinki up. “Is that your favorite food?”

“Hey,” Jinki protested, tightening his grip on Minho’s hand and dragging him from the restaurant. “It’s only my favorite because it’s the best food ever.”

Fair enough. Happily, Minho let Jinki drag him towards the nearest ice cream shop, where he insisted on paying for the treat, and slowly walked Jinki back to his job.

“We should make a habit of this,” Jinki said when the lunch hour was over. They were loitering in front of the catering company, Jinki seemingly refusing to let go of Minho’s hand.

“I could do this every day,” Minho agreed, ignoring the fact that he could see into the catering shop and they had an audience of Jinki’s friends who were miming kisses teasingly at them. “Do you want to get lunch with me when our schedules match up?”

Eyes closed, Minho savored the feeling of Jinki’s lips on his cheek. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Minho agreed, 

Instead of heading straight back to the office, and feeling refreshed, Minho headed to the police department, determined to make some headway in his case.

What he’d told Jinki was the truth. They almost never made any kind of progress on the cases that came their way concerning missing persons. It was a wild goose chase, and one he didn’t expect to catch, but he had to do it anyway. He always kept his promises, and he always tried. The group of boys, the ones with their unconventional and frankly startling relationship, deserved as much. If he could give them even a little hope, it was worth the effort.

He studied the police reports as carefully as he could over the next few hours, learning what he could from the public records, begging his way into the not so public, and preparing to swallow his pride over asking for favors from Jonghyun to see the rest.

Because something wasn’t right about the case. The more surveillance photos he looked at, the more information he learned, and coupled with what he’d heard about the character of the missing person, something definitely felt fishy. A long time ago Minho had learned to rely on his gut, and at the moment it was telling him that this wasn’t a case of a dissatisfied lover skipping town with a large sum of money. This was something different, even if he didn’t know what, just yet.

The sun was down by the time his office came into view, but under the streetlights he could easily make out Kibum at the front door, turning his key to lock the door.

“Going out?” Minho asked him, hands fisted in his pockets. “Did you make any progress on your case?”

Kibum blushed a dark red, and that seemed to be the first indication the reason he was going out wasn’t work related.

“Ah, no.”

Worry churned through Minho. “Is it Taemin? Is he not back yet?” For the past few months he’d been attending an after school program designed to give him a leg up on his college exams. The tests were mere weeks away and more than once a week either Minho or Kibum had to go drag him home.

“No,” Kibum said quickly, pointed up to the light on in their apartment. “He’s here. He got home about an hour ago.”

“Then where are you going?”

Minho took a second to really appraise the way Kibum was dressed. His friend had a fantastic fashion sense, preferring all of the designer clothing he could afford, even when it wasn’t much. But tonight he looked especially nice, from his pressed and collared shirt, to his smooth slacks. Even his hair looked especially cared for.

“Do you,” Minho wondered, catching sight of the watch on Kibum’s wrist that he only wore out on special occasions, “have a date?”

Kibum was quiet.

“With Jonghyun?”

Kibum moved to Minho’s side and asked, “If I wanted to date him, would you be okay with it?”

That startled Minho and he found himself gripping Kibum’s shoulders and saying, “Of course, Kibum! You know I like Jonghyun, and more than that, I know you like him. I’ve been trying to get you guys to stop pretending like you don’t have feelings for each other forever.”

“Oh,” Kibum breathed out.

Minho tugged him into a tight hug. “You never need my permission to date anyone. If you want to, just do it.”

But Minho understood why Kibum had asked. Up until recently, even with how long Jonghyun and Kibum had been sniffing around each other, it had been just the two of them. They’d been all the family they really had, at least with both of Kibum’s parents across the country, and Minho not speaking to his. Getting each other’s approval was important.

“Anyway,” Kibum said, taking a deep breath and stepping back, “it’s not really a date. Jonghyun invited me out for drinks with some of his friends. Other people are going to be there.”

“He wants to introduce you to his friends,” Minho pointed out. “That’s a big step forward.”

“I guess,” Kibum said, twirling car keys between his fingers. “I’m nervous.”

Minho laughed and gave Kibum a gentle push, saying, “I’m going to go check on Taemin and start putting together what I have so far for my case. Go and have fun, okay? I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Thanks, Minho.” Kibum gave a small wave and set off down the street for the car.

A split second later Minho called out, “If you drink too much soju can’t drive, call me. Don’t risk it!”

“Bye, mom,” Kibum called over his shoulder. 

Minho couldn’t help a few chuckles, then headed straight inside and for his desk. He could see the far off stairs illuminated, which meant Taemin had the door open.

“I’m home,” he called up to Taemin, settling at his desk and popping open the lid to his laptop. It was quick work to unpack all of the information he had on his case  and spread it out in front of him as he opened an e-mail from Jonghyun.

With a sigh of relief he was happy to see that the e-mail contained  all the information he’d wanted to access earlier that day, but hadn’t been able to. It wasn’t exactly within Jonghyun’s authority to forward him the information, but it was a case that had gone cold, and it was easy to see now that Jonghyun had been thinking of other things at the time. Or maybe not other things, but one person in particular. 

Jung Taekwoon or Leo had entered his bank at two in the afternoon on a Friday. The security footage playing in front of Minho right now suggested that he wasn’t being coerced in the least bit as he withdrew a large sum of money and exited the bank less than five minutes later.

“Minho?” Taemin asked, emerging from the stairs with a few books tucked under an arm. “Can I study down here?”

“I won’t be a distraction?” Minho asked. He didn’t want anything or anyone to get in the way of Taemin’s studies. In a way, Taemin made him feel like a proud father, cheering his son on to a promising college. 

Taemin shook his head. “Can I?”

Minho nodded to Kibum’s desk. “You know the rules. Don’t touch anything, and don’t read anything you’re not supposed to.”

Taemin scurried to Kibum’s desk, but as the teen passed Minho he slowed and caught sight of the security footage. “Is he hurt?”

“Hurt?” Minho looked up at Taemin.

“Yeah. Look.” Taemin leaned forward to reset the video back to when Leo entered the bank. “He’s walking funny. He’s sort of limping, but it’s not that noticeable.”

Minho leaned closer to the video feed, eyes narrowing in concentration. “I see it now.” He should have shooed Taemin away without pause, but he hesitated. Taemin had seen something right away that Minho hadn’t. Minho might never have caught it if Taemin hadn’t been there. “What else do you see?”

Taemin’s hair fell forward as he moved closer, and he pushed the strands away with an annoying huff. “He’s keeping his pelvis straight. Watch him here, he had to make the corner, but he doesn’t turn like your or I or anyone else would. Watch his feet. Everything is about keeping his body as straight as possible, but he can’t hide his limp completely.” Taemin paused, looking to Minho. “Is this for a case?”

Begrudgingly, Minho admitted, “This boy went missing six weeks ago. He’s about my age, just a year or two younger, and the police have stopped looking for him.”

“He’s handsome,” Taemin declared.

Minho pursed his lips. All forms of beauty seemed to pale in comparison, now that Minho had Jinki in his life, but he could see what Taemin meant. This Leo, whoever he was and wherever he’d gone, had an odd but alluring facial structure. There was something mysterious about him, intriguing, and the way he held himself was attractive.

“Are you going to find him?”

At that question Minho pointed to Kibum’s desk. “That’s enough. Go work on your studies. You want to get into a good university, right?”

Taemin gave a sigh and righted himself. “His hands are shaking.”

“Hmm?”

Taemin took a seat to Kibum’s desk. “When he takes the money from the woman in the video, his hands are shaking. His face is calm, but his hands aren’t. That indicates it isn’t something he wants to do, right? He’s too nervous for it to be that. He might be in that bank of his own free will, but it looks like it’s the last place he wants to be.”

Minho set the video clip to repeat and looked over the official police report. He murmured, mostly to himself, “I think you’re right, Taemin. And I think the police never even saw what we just did.”

The next few hours were filled with things a little more mundane. He had to track Leo before the boy had gone missing, before he could even start with where he’d gone.

By the time his eyes were starting to burn he’d been able to catch up with most of Leo’s previous movements on the day he disappeared, and had even started in on the boy’s family members. But the night was in full swing, Taemin looked to be close to falling asleep himself, and as much as Minho wanted to wait up for Kibum like an anxious mom, he also wanted to crawl into bed and have sweet dreams. Possibly about Jinki. Hopefully about Jinki.

“Come on,” Minho groaned, closing the laptop and standing up to stretch. “You need to get some sleep, Taemin.”

“I’m good,” the teen mumbled, turning a page in his study guide. “One more hour.”

“Taemin.”

“Minho.” Taemin’s voice cracked. “I have to take this test in three weeks. It determines what university I get into. And if I don’t get into a good university I can’t be a detective like Jonghyun.”

If Minho didn’t know how important that was to Taemin, he might have pressed the issue, especially with the pale look to Taemin’s skin. But Minho believed Taemin when he said there was nothing more important. 

Minho held up a strong, uncompromising finger. “I’m going to go upstairs, shower, and change. That’s about fifteen minutes. You have until then. Do you understand me? Not a minute longer.”

“Thanks.” Taemin ducked his head down appreciatively.

Minho’s foot had hit the first step on the stairs when he heard the phone ring. It was the land line they kept on Kibum’s desk, mostly because Kibum said he had a better chance of not running customers off. Minho had never really fought the issue. “Leave it for tomorrow,” he called out to Taemin. There was a recording machine attached. He’d listen to the message later.

“It’s okay,” Taemin responded. “I’ve got it.” He was already lifting it off the hook before Minho could tell him not to.

Something shifted in the air and Minho paused with one hand on the railing they’d installed in the stairwell after Taemin had slipped and fallen almost a year earlier.

“Onew?”

Minho nearly flew to Taemin’s side, asked, “Is that Jinki?”

Clutching the phone with white fingers, Taemin flushed and rushed out, “Onew, I can’t hear you. You’re talking too fast. What’s wrong? Slow down. I can’t understand you. What?”

Minho wrenched the phone out Tamin’s hand, demanding, “Jinki? What’s wrong?”

He could hear a sharp intake of breath, one that rattled him, and then Jinki said, “Minho. I’m sorry I called. I didn’t know what to do. I think … there’s someone in my apartment. The door’s been kicked open. I can hear someone. I …”

Minho yanked the phone away for a half second and all but shouted at Taemin, “Call the police now. Someone is in Jinki’s apartment. His address is written on the notepad in the kitchen.” He could hear Jinki’s breath hitching as the man clearly fought to stay calm. “Where are you? Are you hiding?”

Taemin took the stairs up to the second story for his phone in a blur.

“I’m--” Jinki cut off suddenly and Minho was already sprinting out the door.