Chapter Text
Luke walks along the bustling streets. It's Saturday, so even though it's nearly one a.m. now, the roads are still filled with people. The scent of cigarette smoke and perfume mix linger as another group of women pass him by. They're giggling. One of them waves at him, but her friends just laughs and drags her away, leaning on each other.
Luke is dressed a bit more inconspicuously tonight. The client had directed his team to stand guard for some VIPs, so he sports the classic outfit. A black t-shirt that hugs his muscles juuust right and shows off his arms for intimidation, plain, blue jeans, and a pair of sneakers that he can stand in comfortably for a long time. They gave him a cap and an earpiece too, but he's already returned those since the job is done. His hair is flattened from being held down by the hat for so long, and he couldn't fix it no matter how hard he tried, so he simply sweeps it back and moves on.
Now he's on his way home. Not sure if his luck is just plain bad or not in these past few weeks, but the location his team had to guard was an underground club somewhere in Chinatown.
Why does it keep bringing him back to this place? He's got absolutely no idea. Luke squints down at his phone, which currently displays a map guiding him back to the main street. Due to confidentiality reasons, the client stuffed them all into a van and had a driver get them here from the designated meeting place, but didn't provide any options for them to get back. That leaves him with good old walking.
Luke tries to zoom in on the tiny lines. This district has so many alleys. It's like a snake game screen. It doesn't help that the streetlights here are mostly dyed red by the paper lamps or just don't work all together. He keeps walking while he fiddles with it, and accidentally kicks a trash bag.
"Whoops-" He watches it roll before reaching a group of its brethren stacked around a lamp pole. On top of them, however, he finds a familiar face.
Jamie Siu is sprawled out on a goddamned trash pile.
Luke stares at the sleeping body in shock. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Why is he here like this?
Jamie's hair is loose from the usual braid, but not completely untangled. His complexion is red all the way down to his neck, but his clothes are in order at least. His signature drinking gourd is still hanging from the rope around his hips. His mouth is slightly parted, and in one of his hands is a green glass bottle. Luke attempts to read the label, but only finds Korean characters printed in a bold black font and a picture of a peach there instead. No English to be seen.
Admittedly, he isn't very familiar with Asian alcohol and spirits, so he's not sure how high the percentage of this is. He's traveled, yeah, but all of those trips aren't for sight-seeing. Plus, since he doesn't know the local language–and translation apps can only get you so far–he just relies on fast food when he's abroad.
Luke considers his options. He could leave Jamie here. Even if he wakes him up, chances are, he wouldn't be happy to see him anyways. Jamie can take care of himself.
But still...
The night is cold, and he doesn't really want his rival to get sick. There are people still roaming around as well. What if Jamie wakes up and lashes out at a pedestrian? Clearly the best choice would be for him to get Jamie somewhere safe with someone who could handle him.
He glances down at his phone. Just a bit more til main street.
Is he seriously thinking about taking Jamie home with him right now?
Luke shakes his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He's not a cruel person, but he's definitely not carrying Jamie back to his place. Would dropping him off at a police station work? The GPS says there's one close by. A quick detour to drop off a drunkard wouldn't hurt. He can think of it as public service.
With a new goal in mind, Luke leans down and grabs Jamie's arm. He maneuvers him into a piggy back ride with little difficulty, and stands up.
Huh, not as heavy as expected.
He's got his hands hooked under Jamie's thighs. He has to lean forward a bit so his unconscious passenger wouldn't droop backwards and hit his head on something. Jamie's face rests against the back of his neck, arms slung over his broad shoulders. It's a little ticklish, but he'll manage.
Somehow, it's like the universe is playing a prank on him. Not even a week ago, he wasn't able to grab Jamie, and now here he is with an armful of him.
The situation was also rather–ahem–similar to the last time they met, but he's not gonna dwell on it.
Luke starts walking towards their new destination. If he's correct, he has to backtrack a bit, then take a left, another left, and a right.
He makes it to the first turn when suddenly, there's movement on his back, and he barely stops himself from yelping. Jamie nuzzles into the back of his neck, his limp hands pawing at whatever he could reach, which in this case would be Luke's chest.
He debates internally on whether or not he should say something. Jamie might have woken up, but he's probably not entirely sober yet. He would prefer not getting into a fight tonight if possible.
"You up?" he asks. He makes an effort to pitch his own voice down a bit so that Jamie would think he's someone else. It would be pretty humiliating to get passed out drunk, then wake up being carried around by your own rival. At least, he thinks so.
"Mm..." Jamie's voice vibrates against his skin. He has somehow readjusted his grip on Luke in his sleep and managed to lock both his arms and legs around his torso and neck, like a baby panda hugging a tree trunk.
Luke is frozen in place. He has no idea what to do. He's heard of cuddly sleepers before, but he sure as fuck didn't expect Jamie to be one. Or maybe he is awake after all, and he's messing with him.
Luke gingerly lets one of his legs go. Unsurprisingly, Jamie still hangs on, so he releases the other one too. He struggles with prying the crossed ankles apart, but finds no success. Jamie's breath keeps brushing against his skin and–fuck, it's distracting him! Luke grits his teeth and goes for the arms next. He slips in between the gap and works his way up until he's got one wrist in each hand. So far so good.
Jamie grumbles, displeased by the removal. His arms flex and tense against the hold, seeking to go back to hugging him again. Luke wrestles with him. How is it possible that even when he's asleep, he's still such a pest?!
Eventually, he ends up with Jamie clinging to the front of his torso, cheek smushed against his own. All the moving has made him sway towards the nearing building to them; a closed shop with shutters drawn down. Luke's shoulder hits it with a "BANG!" but luckily, no one is around to notice.
He's really starting to regret striving to be a good person.
Jamie is still sleeping without a care in the world. The smell of booze comes with every breath. Luke cradles him with a hand on his lower back, not daring to touch his bottom, and stands closer so he can use the wall to take some of the weight off. He nearly dropped Jamie earlier during their scuffle and that sure gave him a real fright. At this rate, he'll probably have a better chance of having someone else help peel Jamie off.
Luke fishes out his phone with his free hand and looks at the map once more, holding it closer to his face. They're not under any streetlamps right now, so it's harder to see.
"Nmm.." Jamie's eyebrows furrow at the intruding bright light, before his eyes slowly blink open. "Wuh..?"
Luke immediately locks his phone screen. His brain rushes through a list of excuses he might be able to use if questioned.
But wait. Isn't this what he wanted? If Jamie is awake, that means he doesn't have to carry him anymore. Problem solved!
"Who 're you?"
...or not.
Luke suddenly realizes how compromising their current position is. The dread pours down his back like ice water, but he's reignited by the hope that finally, he has a way out. At least Jamie doesn't recognize him in the dark. His clothes being different must have helped, but he wasn't doing undercover missions during his time in the military for a reason. He needs to act fast.
Jamie is retracting his arms. Now's his chance!
"?!"
Luke grabs Jamie by his waist and pulls him off all at once. It takes him by surprise, and the legs that are locked around Luke's torso easily unravel too. There's no need to panic about the other being able to see his face at this range, since he obviously failed to do so earlier. He nearly throws Jamie against the building before he turns and runs away, heart hammering in his chest. He'll worry about his way home later.
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Jamie slides down the wall until he's sitting on the sidewalk, looking at the retreating back. What the actual fuck was that? Was that guy a pervert?
He pats himself for anything that could be missing. Ah…good. The only thing amiss is the absence of the peach soju bottle. He already finished it anyway. A shop owner had given it to him as thanks for helping them toss out a group of violent drunks who were harassing one of the waitresses. He didn't want to drink tonight, but whipping out the old family brew to fuck up some rowdy pedestrians was overkill at the moment, so he had this instead. After the fight, the waitress also bought him a drink, and he couldn't refuse that, nor the number of shots he had after it. Next thing he knows, he was walking and sipping from the bottle, then...
What was that guy doing carrying him around anyway? Kidnapping? He's well known in Chinatown for being its peacekeeper. The guy's boss must be real confident if he thinks he can pull off something like this. Could the shopkeeper he helped been in on it too?
His head throbs.
Ugh, nevermind. He'll figure out his plan to question the gangs around here later. Let's get home first.