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Jihoon eyes the coffee cup on his desk warily; he knows that he’s not always been the sharpest first thing in the morning, and he’s been known to forget important things, but he’s almost certain that he didn’t make this coffee. He knows this because the smell rising from the mug before him is tempting him almost beyond restraint, a sign that he’s yet to have had his morning fill, but his years as a police detective have taught him to always be alert and cautious. And the appearance of the mysterious coffee is definitely suspicious.
“Why are you looking at that coffee like it’s going to attack you?” the booming voice of one of Jihoon’s colleagues startles him out of his thoughts. When he realises who it is, standing over his desk with a smug smile and a coffee mug of his own, Jihoon fixes his look of suspicion on him instead.
“Choi Seungcheol. You did this,” he accuses, and it’s not a question.
Seungcheol’s grin stretches until his eyes are squinting, and then it drops completely as he says innocently, “I know you don’t want anyone to wish you a happy birthday, so a crappy day to you!” Once again his grin returns in full force as he takes a seat at his own desk across from Jihoon.
“That’s still too much,” Jihoon grumbles, mostly to himself, as he finally reaches forward and brings the cup slowly to his lips. He knows Seungcheol is watching him, he can tell without looking, so he tries not to show the surprise he feels when he tastes the coffee and realises that it’s made exactly the way he likes it. Another tentative sip just to confirm and, yep, it’s perfect; just the right amounts of cream and sugar, and even a hint of caramel flavour. He chances a glance in Seungcheol’s direction, but his co-worker already seems engrossed in whatever is on his computer screen, so he doesn’t say anything.
After about ten minutes of working in silence, Seungcheol speaks up again, drawing Jihoon’s attention away from his own computer. “So, since you don’t believe in birthdays or whatever, I assume you’re not doing anything later?” he asks, his expression wide eyed and expectant, almost like a puppy.
Jihoon shrugs and tries to take a drink of his coffee before he replies, but to his surprise his mug is empty. He frowns. “Celebrating birthdays is for small children and assholes,” he recites flatly, as though he’s said it a hundred times before, and he probably has.
Jihoon’s attitude doesn’t dampen Seungcheol’s excitement as he continues, “Great! Tonight I need you to help me move this gorgeous 1880s cabinet I just bought."
On reflex, Jihoon rolls his eyes, but he won't admit to the slight fondness he feels when he says, "What is with you and antiques? Your apartment looks like my grandmother lived and died there."
"Hey! Be more respectful to your dead grandma and her furniture," it's Seungcheol's turn to frown, but only for a second before he's back to bright eyes and bouncing in his seat. "So, you in?"
"Yea, whatever. I'll help you, you weirdo," he acquiesces, already turning his attention to other things. Now that he's had his coffee and his presence of mind has returned to him, he notices that the precinct is buzzing with activity, most of the other detectives and staff have made their way in. People are turning on their computers and scarfing down late breakfasts in the forms of bagels or granola bars, and the smell of every single person's coffee fills the air. Jihoon loves it all, deep down in his bitter little heart.
"Excellent!" Seungcheol exclaims, obviously unaware that the conversation was over. Jihoon flinches at the volume of his voice and tries his hardest not to glare. Seungcheol doesn't notice. "It's a place downtown, just upstairs this nice little bar."
At that, Jihoon's internal alarms begin to go off again, his figurative, heavy metal safety doors slamming shut and red lights blinking behind his eyelids.
"A place that sells antiques above a bar?" he questions, his tone biting, "A bar? You're trying to set me up, aren't you? Did Junhui put you up to this?" As Jihoon interrogates him rapid-fire, panic flashes in Seungcheol's eyes, just long enough for Jihoon to pick up on before it disappears.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, man. I am not doing anything other than picking up a cabinet," he lies, eyes pleading and shoulders raised in feigned hurt, and it could almost be convincing if he were to try it on someone only a little less clever.
But Jihoon had already received his confirmation. "I can't believe you're doing this. You know I hate surprise parties, or parties in general, why didn't you talk Jun out of it?" His tone is harsh and dripping with betrayal, and from the way Seungcheol's face falls, Jihoon knows he wants to do something to try to placate him.
Just as he opens his mouth, however, his attempt is cut short by Soonyoung passing by their desks and announcing, "Yo, captain wants everyone right now for a meeting! He said it's super important."
Jihoon doesn’t want to admit it, but he barely pays attention to a thing the captain says as he explains their assignment for that evening, what’s supposed to be one of the biggest drug busts their precinct has had this this year. He catches a few bits about Soonyoung and Wonwoo being the first in, he knows Soonyoung makes and awkward comment about being paired with Wonwoo and that Wonwoo probably just rolls his eyes. He hears the captain telling him and Seungcheol that they’d be leading the backup team, and Seungcheol gleefully exclaims, “I’ll drive!”, an idea which Jihoon quickly shoots down. He manages to get himself out of the room and back to his desk when the meeting is over, but he misses almost everything else in between. All he can think about is what terrible thing Seungcheol has in store for him later.
Jihoon hates birthday parties and he hates surprises. He hates how uncomfortable it is when people he barely knows or even likes try to treat him like he’s something special just because he was born, over thirty years ago. He hates standing around awkwardly while people sing at him off-key and he hates everyone looking at him while he’s forced to do absurd birthday rituals like blowing out candles and opening presents like he’s a six year old. But most of all, he hates having to pretend like he’s happy about doing all of that crap so that he doesn’t upset the people there, especially when he’s had no time to prepare himself in advance.
What’s even worse is that Seungcheol knows that Jihoon hates all of those things, and he went ahead and did it anyway. The more he stews on it, the angrier he gets.
~
When, later that day, Jihoon climbs into the driver’s seat of the discreet, black police car that would be taking them to the site of their drug bust, Seungcheol is already in the passenger seat and looking over at him expectantly. He notices the expression on his partner’s face, but he just ignores him and turns on the ignition. Jihoon has been ignoring him all day, if Seungcheol doesn’t understand how pissed off Jihoon is by now, he’s a fucking moron.
“So, you ready to pick up that cabinet after this?” is what comes out of Seungcheol’s mouth as they pull away from the curb, and Jihoon realises the guy is dumber than he thought. He doesn’t respond, Seungcheol sighs. “Come on, Jihoon, you haven’t said anything to me all day!” he whines.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Jihoon snaps, low and piercing, and it shuts Seungcheol right up, leaving him to sit in silence for the rest of the drive, pouting with his arms crossed across his chest petulantly. Jihoon is grateful for the quiet, it leaves him more room to get back to the anger boiling up inside of him as he mindlessly drives through the streets of the city he knows so well. He tries as hard as he can to not feel sorry for Seungcheol suffering beside him, the inconsiderate asshole has caused him enough turmoil today already and he knows there’s more to come. He does his very best to keep up his cold exterior, keeps reminding himself of how Seungcheol has royally fucked up, but Seungcheol’s is usually so noisy when they’re together that his silence unsettles Jihoon to the core. They’re mere streets away from their destination, sitting at a stop light, when Jihoon cracks and makes the mistake of looking over at him; Seungcheol meets his eye and he looks about ready to burst.
“Jihoon, please don’t be mad at me!” he exclaims passionately, and Jihoon sighs exasperatedly before finally giving in.
“Who else is going to be at the party?” his voice is still heavy with irritation, but he can tell that just being acknowledged brightens Seungcheol’s mood.
“There is no party,” Seungcheol states plainly; Jihoon rolls his eyes at the audacity.
“Don’t lie to me,” he threatens.
Seungcheol angles his body towards Jihoon, and leans in closer as though he’s a teenager sharing a secret. “Listen, okay?” he starts, his tone soft but pleading, “I can’t tell you any of the details, but I know you, Jihoon, and I know you’ll like it. I promise you’ll have a good time, just trust me.”
As convincing as he sounds, as much as Jihoon wants to enjoy these things if only for his friend’s sake, he can’t bring himself to believe him. The image of a birthday party flashes through his mind and he shudders, shaking his head at Seungcheol. “Well then, you clearly don’t know me at all.”
Jihoon turns into a parking spot across the street from where Soonyoung and Wonwoo should already be, and when he finally turns off the ignition and looks over at Seungcheol again, the man looks like his eyes might roll out of his head. “What do you mean? I know you better than anyone!” he disputes, sounding almost frantic. “I was even working up to calling you Ji-ji!”
Jihoon fixes him with a hard glare and tries not to break his resolve as Seungcheol cowers. “Well, as of now you’ve just lost ‘Jihoon’ privileges; you can call me Detective Lee or ‘hey you’.”
Once again, Jihoon is spared from having to look at Seungcheol’s heartbroken, puppy face and his sad pouting by Wonwoo’s voice coming through their radio. “Backup team, we need you stationed at all entrances and ready to go in five minutes.”
Making sure he has his gun at the ready, he dives out of the car and away from Seungcheol as quickly as he can. Of course, he doesn’t get away for long, because Seungcheol is right behind him as they head down the side of the building towards the back doors. The building itself is a fairly nice apartment building that screams upper middle class, and both men can understand why the drugs passing through the place had gone undetected for so long. They crouch along the east edge, Jihoon leading the way with his gun steady in his hand.
Seungcheol, sticking close behind him, decides to break the silence. “Born Lee Jihoon, on November 22nd, 1996, in Busan but you and your family moved to Seoul when you were 15,” he says in a rushed whisper, close to Jihoon’s ear.
Jihoon flinches at the suddenness and the randomness of Seungcheol’s words. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?” he whispers back, looking over his shoulder.
“You’d always wanted to be a musician, you were even going to an arts high school-” he continues unfazed, still with no context or explanation, “-but one day on your way home from school, you and your friends got held up at gun point and a police officer saved your life, and after that you decided you were going to be a police detective.”
Jihoon screws up his face in confusion. “What are you- Seungcheol shut the fuck up, you’re going to give us away,” he forces the words out between his teeth as they round the corner and get closer to the door.
“What? I’m just saying,” he claims, volume a little too high for Jihoon’s liking. He hushes his partner again and hopes that for once it’ll work; it doesn’t. “I’m sorry, Jihoon, winner of three awards of excellence in composing in high school, and secret lover of plushies and colourful flower arrangements.”
“Dude, stop trying to prove that you know me! You’re being ridiculous,” Jihoon stops and lowers his gun, turning to fully face Seungcheol. “Look, I’m gonna go to this stupid thing for Jun’s sake, I know he’s in on it too and I don’t want to upset him. But I want you to know that I don’t want to, and I’m not happy with this or you.”
Seungcheol raises his hands in concession, “And that’s fine with me.” Jihoon sighs wearily.
Just then, they hear Wonwoo again over Jihoon’s radio, “Backup we need you to move in now!” Remembering what they’re supposed to be doing, Jihoon and Seungcheol share a look, nodding once at each other before they burst through the doors and into action.
~
After they’ve finished at the precinct and Seungcheol finally convinces Jihoon to change into a nicer shirt, they make their way downtown to the bar where the party is supposed to be happening; when they get there, Jihoon is surprised to find that there is indeed an antique shop upstairs. Jihoon quickly climbs out of the car and heads for the door, ready to get this done, but Seungcheol stops him just before he can go in.
“Listen, you have to pretend I didn’t mess this up and act like you’re surprised when you go in,” he pleads. “Let me see your surprised face, come on.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes and doesn’t comply. “Please, let’s just get this over with,” he pushes past Seungcheol and steels himself for the inevitable shouts and screams and people. However, an entirely different scene awaits him.
“Surprise!” exclaims a single voice, and Jihoon just stands frozen, eyes blinking wide. The entire bar is empty, not a single soul in sight and all the tables and chairs pushed to the corners of the room. That is, except for one table, right in the centre of the floor, covered with a table cloth and lit with a candle, and one person, standing next to the table with his arms spread and a blinding grin on his face.
“Junhui? What’s going on?” Jihoon manages to ask, confused as to why his boyfriend and no one else is there.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Junhui’s grin only brightens, and he steps forward to wrap Jihoon in his embrace. “I booked this whole bar so that we could celebrate your birthday, with no one else but the two of us.”
“What…that’s amazing,” he croaks out, muffled into Junhui’s shoulder. He is so overwhelmed with shock and relief and he’s trying to will himself not to fucking cry.
Junhui pulls back and looks into his eyes, smile now gentler and a little sheepish. “It was actually all Seungcheol’s idea.”
When Junhui moves his arms from around him, Jihoon turns back to where his friend is still standing at the entrance, a wide grin plastered on his face. There’s not a single trace of smugness there, only pure happiness, and Jihoon makes his way over to him. “What the fuck, Seungcheol,” he punches him hard on the arm, but before Seungcheol can even yelp in pain, he throws his arms around him in a hug. “Thank you so much,” he breathes out, and he can feel arms tighten around him in return.
“See, I told you I knew you better than anyone,” he boasts, and just like that the moment is over.
“Okay, just shut up and go away,” Jihoon pushes him away and towards the exit. “I have a date with my boyfriend.”
Seungcheol’s laugh can be heard, loud and rich, even as he’s out the door, “It’s your loss! Everyone knows that when I leave I take the party with me.” Jihoon fails to hide his fond smile as he turns back to the table where Junhui is holding his chair out for him.