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Jisung considers himself to be a very level headed person. He graduated high school at the age of twelve, and has continued his education from there, earning his two Ph.Ds by the time he turned 17. By a stroke of luck (or the strings his cousin Taeyong managed to pull), Jisung ends up as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Jisung likes his job. He likes saving people from danger, being out in the field, and most of all, he likes his teammates. Boring and rigid Mark who always looks after him like a father would their child, Renjun who is equal parts beautiful and intelligent, Jeno who is young but possesses the wisdom of a man of sixty years, sharp-tongued Chenle who is always traveling between his many government jobs, and Jaemin. Jaemin who is gorgeous and handsome and witty, who is flirtatious and unattainable and unfortunately the love of Jisung’s insignificant bisexual life.
Sad pining aside, Jisung really adores his teammates.
His teammates, that sit around the table with grim faces as Donghyuck, their Technical Analyst and also apart of the team, presents another case.
“Just a warning, this case is pretty bad,” he starts. “Not gruesome, but saddening.”
“Not gruesome yet,” Jeno mumbles, and Mark shoots him a glare that shuts him up in a fraction of a second.
Donghyuck rolls his eyes before continuing. “It involves children.”
“Children?” Jaemin asks, already looking deflated.
Donghyuck nods, pressing a button on his remote that prompts images of four little girls to pop up on the screen he’s standing next to. “Five little girls have been reported missing in Busan over the past week. The local police department wasn’t sure if they were connected or not.”
Chenle points a finger at the screen. “If five girls have been reported missing, why are there only four of them here?”
“The fifth report was issued late last night, and all of you were already home so I figured I’d let you get your rest,” Donghyuck replies simply. “I never got around to getting the picture of the poor girl, but she will be on your tablets once you get up in the air.”
Mark squints at him. “What did I tell you about working late?”
Donghyuck sighs. “Can we talk about this later please?”
Mark nods and lets it go, and Jisung sees Donghyuck release a breath.
Renjun, who had been quietly looking at the files, finally speaks. “All Korean girls, aged six to nine years old. He definitely has a type.”
Jisung, who had also glanced at the files, chimes in as well. “Two from Haeundae, one from Sasang, one from Suyeong and one from Gijang. These were all pretty spread out. This guy was on the move.”
“Multiple unsubs?” Chenle tries.
“Unlikely,” Mark says, not lifting his eyes from the paper. “It’s not that spread out.”
“It’s seems a little too far dispersed for this to be spontaneous. These were planned,” Jeno comments.
“Maybe the real issue is between the unsub and their mothers,” Jaemin says. “If their children disappear, mothers will notice immediately, not to mention become vulnerable.”
Jisung shuts him down with a small smile. “If the issue was with the mothers, the mothers would have been attacked instead. Scorned, vengeful men have no regard for the safety of the person they plan to make their victim. The guilt complex in the temporal lobe makes it difficult for humans to show aggressive behavior towards children. If the unsub was able to overcome that and bring an unsafe atmosphere to a child, they are seriously mentally ill, or under a severe amount of stress, perhaps a combination of both.”
Jaemin smiles, even if he is disappointed. “Jisung is so handsome when he says things like that.”
Jisung rolls his eyes and wills himself not to blush, lest he encourage any more.
“What Jisung said about overcoming the guilt complex to hurt a child,” Donghyuck says right after Jaemin finishes speaking, “Do you think unsubs feel that way when they see Jisung out in the field?”
Renjun snorts, and Jisung rolls his eyes again, but in annoyance this time. “Ha ha,” he says blandly. “Very funny. Hilarious, Donghyuck.”
The air grows stale once they observe Jisung’s poor mood. He should be used to their jabs by now, but he doesn’t like to seem too young to function properly in this job. A tiny voice in the back of his head tells him that he doesn’t want to appear too young for Jaemin, but he ignores it in favor of cracking his neck.
“Okay,” Renjun says, sensing the tension and deciding to change the subject. “So we all agree to taking this case right? This unsub is serial. We need to act now.”
Everyone nods, and Mark slaps his hand on the table, signaling the end of the meeting. Jaemin is slow to stand up, and Jisung looks over at him, concerned.
“Hyung, are you okay?” he asks.
“I've always wanted kids," Jaemin sighs, rolling his chair back. Jisung's heart aches.
"I'll give you kids one day, baby," Donghyuck responds, listening in on their conversation. He tosses a wink at Jaemin, who's smile blooms across his face.
"You'll give me kids, hm?"
Chenle gags. "This is such...." he pauses, looking for the right word, "heterosexual flirting. I'm disappointed." He spits the word as if it were a curse, like it tastes foul in his mouth.
Jeno smiles with his eyes like he always does. "Why did you sound so disgusted while saying heterosexual?"
"Because that's how I feel about heterosexuals."
Mark's loud "wheels up in ten" drowns out Jeno's offended shout, and the group disperses.
“Jisung, go flirt with him,” Jaemin whispers in his ear.
It’s three days later in Busan. The BAU visited the families of the kidnapped children and collected as much information as possible. They conclude that their unsub likely has experienced the loss of a child, through death or some metaphorical sense. Once they touched down in the city, another kidnapping had taken place; Jeno says it indicates that the unsub likes the attention and would like strike again soon. Mark thinks the unsub is conceited as well as sadistic, and would go public, to target the people who are already hurting because they know it will bring more attention to them in the news.
The BAU managed to pinpoint the location of a new convention for newly family-less people. Normally the meeting would be a quiet gathering in someone’s home, but the grief instructor had suggested that the group go out for a change, try and have a good time. For some odd reason Jisung cannot understand, Mark had selected him to tag along with himself and Jaemin to the field.
The bar is packed, bodies in the crowd swaying back and forth. Jisung would feel slightly less uncomfortable if a stranger was pressed against his back. But there isn’t a stranger pressed against his back, there’s a Na Jaemin dressed in ripped jeans and a crop top, looking like every single one of Jisung’s dreams. His naughty arms wind themselves around the younger’s small waist, and his lip gloss is sticky where it touches the shell of Jisung’s ear.
“What? No!”
“Come on, pretty boy,” Jaemin prods. “You look hot.”
And Jisung supposes he does. Once Mark made the announcement to the team, Donghyuck decides he wants to be the one to dress Jisung, much to the younger’s chagrin. He does away with Jisung’s sweater vests, pressed slacks and sensible shoes and replaces them with skin tight jeans and a fitted t-shirt that shows off how broad he is. His hair, once dirty blond and hanging low in his eyes, is now a silver color and styled upwards to show his forehead. Donghyuck applies the eyeliner with a steady hand, and he looks so proud of himself when he is finished.
Jisung is the last of the three to finish getting ready, so the whole team is there to watch him emerge from the bathroom. Chenle and Renjun make a big deal out of whistling at him and Jisung’s face goes to fire for absolutely no reason.
Mark looks good too, because it’s Mark and he always looks handsome. He’s wearing a white button down and black jeans, along with a fucking harness that shows off his stellar proportions.
Jaemin is sitting on a bench talking to Jeno and Jisung stops dead in his tracks when he sees him. The crop top he’s wearing is pink, blue jeans ripped in a way to show off a lot of skin. Jisung can’t seem to take his eyes off of Jaemin’s thighs, so used to seeing him in loose work pants that the sight if them alone is shocking.
If Mark is handsome, Jaemin is sultry. Sinful. Dangerous.
Jisung’s mouth feels dry.
In all of his open admiration (read: checking out) of Jaemin, he failed to notice Jaemin doing the exact same thing, drinking in the younger’s taller figure with keen eyes. Jisung is so usually swamped in his clothes that Jaemin is surprised to see he has a figure at all, an excellent one at that. Broad shoulders that slim down into a tiny waist, and legs that seem to go on forever.
The rest of the team is watching them stare each other down in thinly veiled amusement.
“Poor Mark,” Jeno, who has moved to the other side of the room, mutters to Chenle. “He’s going to have to deal with the two of them looking at each other like that all night long.”
“It’s what he deserves for trying to skip out on buying drinks after the last case,” Chenle replies, nose wrinkled. Mark, who is nearby, flicks him on the forehead.
“There is nothing I could have done to deserve having to see them like this all night long.”
Jeno furrows his eyebrows. “Then why are you taking them? Why not me?”
Mark rolls his eyes as he tucks his wallet into his pocket. “Because you’d attract too much attention with that face of yours. And you like flirting with anyone that breathes at you, so it’s not ideal.” Jeno looks mildly offended and Chenle laughs at him, Renjun sidling up behind him.
“Besides,” Mark continues, patting Jeno’s head, “I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope you do,” Renjun says, and it sounds threatening to anyone that has ears. Everyone knows that Renjun is fiercely protective of Jisung, but no one exactly knows why. No one pries either, so it remains a mystery among the agents.
Jaemin promises Renjun that he will take care of Jisung, and if clinging to him most of the night is taking care of him, then Jaemin is doing an excellent job. Jisung is used to the elder’s clingy behavior, but this is something else entirely. Jaemin won’t stop touching him; his arms are around Jisung’s waist, or in his hair, or gripping his arm. Jisung doesn’t particularly mind having someone as beautiful as Jaemin attached to his side for hours on end, but they have a case to solve.
“You want me to go flirt with him? That one in the flannel?” Jisung asks, unsure.
“That’s the one,” Mark says, alerting the other two of his existence again. “He’s been looking around all night long, not ordering anything or talking to anyone. See what you can get out of him.”
Jisung runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “How do I look?” he asks.
“Handsome,” Mark says dismissively.
“Amazing,” is the word Jaemin opts for.
Jisung rolls his eyes. “You’re annoying, hyung,” he responds, but he begins to blush as soon as he turns his back on the two of them. Jaemin watches his figure retreat to the other side of the club, and scowls when he sees the look of unfiltered joy on the possible unsub’s face when he notices that Jisung is approaching him.
Mark orders a cola from the hot bartender with a name tag that reads Jungwoo and smiles at the expression on Jaemin’s face.
“What’s the matter, champ? Why the long face?”
Jaemin has been glaring in the general direction of Jisung since he left. The suspect is warm and easy going, flashing smiles at Jisung and touching his arm every now and then. Jisung seems to be charmed, but Mark knows that Jisung is a good actor. Jaemin does not know that information.
“Jisung looks too....happy,” Jaemin says quietly, swirling his equally as non alcoholic drink in his glass.
Mark’s neck draws back. “And that’s a bad thing?”
Jaemin snaps his head in Mark’s direction, looking bewildered. “Jisung is talking to a criminal, Mark. He could catch feelings for this person!”
“Jisung may be young, but he’s not helpless, Jaemin. He’s a natural good judge of character, not to mention his training in this program. He will be fine,” Mark chuckles. A heavy silence passes over them before Mark sighs and puts his cup down on the bar. “How much longer are you going to pretend like you’re not interested in him?”
“I’m not interested in Jisung,” Jaemin replies back, quick as lightning.
“Na Jaemin,” Mark starts, sounding annoyed, “I am the head profiler of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. You can’t lie to me. I see right through you.”
Jaemin’s eyes drop to his glass, the elder’s stare too intense to maintain eye contact comfortably. “Mark…”
“You were looking at him like you were going to inhale him at the police station, Jaemin. You’re attracted to him not only physically, but emotionally and intellectually. You like flirting with him to watch him blush and become flustered. You think he’s cute, and too oblivious for his own good. You want to corrupt him and make him your own. You like him so much, Jaemin, and honestly it’s a little obnoxious that it took the image of him in tight jeans to make you realize it.”
“Okay,” Jaemin cuts him off, voice harsh. “I get it, you are the all knowing Mark Lee, who can read someone’s feelings from the inside of their brains and snatch the words right off of their tongues. I like Jisung, I get it.”
Mark’s eyes widen a fraction before he grins. “Was I really spot on with all of that?”
Jasmine nods mutely, eyes cast down. He doesn’t see Mark’s blinding grin.
“Really? I just made up a lot of shit that sounded like something you would feel,” Mark laughs, and Jaemin’s jaw drops open. “Here he comes. If you can go outside and be alone with him for a few minutes without jumping him, I’ll leave you alone about it.”
The first thing Jisung does once he’s in front of them is run his fingers through his hair, and Jaemin feels his mouth go dry.
“He’s a total creep,” Jisung says, turning back and giving the man a flirtatious finger wave right after he says it. “A creep, but not a criminal. He’s not smart enough for that.”
Jaemin feels momentarily relieved about the fact that Jisung is uninterested in that strange man before he remembers that he’s not supposed to be relieved.
“Are you sure he’s not a criminal, Jisung?” Mark asks after a long sip from his drink. “It looks like he stole your heart.”
Jisung scrunches his face in disgust. “Hyung, that was a horrible joke. Don’t ever say that again.”
Jaemin downs the rest of his drink before gripping Jisung’s arm. “Do you want to get some fresh air? Hyung’s bad humor has ruined the atmosphere.”
Mark makes an offended sound, but they ignore him. Jaemin drags Jisung out of the club, fingers entwined. Jisung stares, but says nothing, keeping his gaze on their hands. The brisk air hits them, and Jaemin shivers at the sudden exposure to cold. Jisung doesn’t even think twice before shrugging off his leather jacket and draping it across Jaemin’s shoulders.
They walk in silence, taking slow steps. Jaemin, knowing Mark and Jeno will make fun of him forever when he tells them, swallows, and just spits it out.
“Have you ever been kissed, Jisung?”
By anyone except my mother? No.
“Yeah, sure,” Jisung lies after a beat of silence.
Jaemin stops walking, turning to face Jisung. His stare is so intense, unwavering, that Jisung instinctively takes a step back and finds his shoulders pressed against the brick walls of the club.
“Why do I feel like you’re lying?” Jaemin asks, looking up at Jisung with wide, candid eyes.
Jisung swallows thickly. “I don’t know.”
“What if I kissed you? Right now?” Jaemin asks.
“For what?” Jisung asks, mystified, heart damn near in his throat.
“For practice,” Jaemin replies, folding his arms. He’s pouting, and Jisung finds it adorable. “I hated seeing that man flirt with you, but I want you to be prepared for any future developments in your relationship.”
It doesn’t make any sense, Jaemin knows, but he’s grasping for straws here. He will probably never be in this position with Jisung again. For some reason Jaemin cannot understand but is eternally grateful for, Jisung plays along.
“Sure, you can kiss me Jaemin,” Jisung says, feigning indifference, heartbeat roaring in his ears.
Jaemin leans up and presses a kiss to Jisung’s cheek.
Jisung groans. “Come on, Jaemin.”
“What?” Jaemin asked, perplexed. “Are my kisses really that bad?”
Jisung’s hands fly up in front of him, shaking, trying to avoid misinterpretation. “No, that’s just...”
“Just what?” Jaemin asks, leaning in closer. The wind whistles through the trees.
“That’s not where I wanted you to kiss me,” Jisung finishes, suddenly shy.
Jaemin’s grin is so radiant and Jisung can’t look away. “Oh? What about here?”
Jaemin leans up on his toes and kisses Jisung on his forehead. Jisung ducks his head in embarrassment.
Jaemin lifts Jisung’s chin with a single finger, forcing him to make eye contact.
“And here?” he asks, kissing Jisung on the tip of his nose.
“Jaemin,” Jisung whines, face on fire. He can’t take much more of this.
“How about here?”
Jaemin laces their fingers together and brings Jisung’s knuckles to his mouth. He litters a few pecks there, tiny and soft, holding Jisung’s hand to his chest afterwards. It’s a little more romantic than what Jisung was expecting, but it’s the kind of romantic that he wants to have with Jaemin and suddenly his heart is aching in his chest.
“Jaemin,” Jisung tries again, voice weak. He has yet to release Jaemin’s hand or pull it away from his chest.
The elder sighs. “I don’t know why I thought you would ever make the first move.”
“What?”
Jaemin ignores Jisung’s question in favor of leaning closer to him. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”
Jisung nearly breaks his neck trying to nod. Jaemin chuckles, muttering a “you’re so cute” before grabbing the front of his shirt and dragging Jisung down to press their lips together.
All of the air gets punched out of Jisung’s lungs. Jaemin’s lips are chapped like always, but Jisung doesn’t care. Jaemin tilts his head to the side, lips moving the tiniest bit, and Jisung follows him as best as he can. The elder’s tongue runs along the seam of Jisung’s lips, and he parts them without hesitation.
Jisung’s hands, once Jaemin released them, are empty. They miss the warmth that radiates from the elder, so they settle onto his waist, dragging him closer. Jisung traces circles onto Jaemin’s tummy with his thumbs, and Jaemin hums into his mouth.
Jaemin is so unbelievably warm, and Jisung can’t seem to get enough. Their chests are pressed together, Jaemin’s fingers loosening on the front of his shirt, arms wrapping around his neck. Jisung’s heart stutters, his mouth opening to inhale air. Jaemin pulls away, needing air as well, but his arms stay where they are. He leans his forehead against Jisung’s, lips wet and breath labored.
“You’re so cute,” Jaemin breathes. “You’re really fucking cute, Jisung.”
Jisung shuts him up with his mouth, fingers threading through the thick hair at Jaemin’s nape to drag their mouths back together. They don’t stop this time. There isn’t an inch of space between them at any point on each their bodies. Jisung is getting the hang of it, sucking on Jaemin’s tongue and rendering the elder weak in the knees. He reaches up to cup Jisung’s jaw, and he melts into the touch, using the hand in Jaemin’s hair to tilt his head back just slightly.
“Are you two done?” Mark asks, and both Jaemin and Jisung jump away from each other like they had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be. Jisung brings his hand up to his mouth, looking for some evidence that what just happened was real and not a horribly cruel dream his brain conjured up. And he does find something; Jaemin’s sticky cherry lip gloss, smeared on his mouth.
Jisung exhales shakily. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Most people answer the phone with a simple "hello." But when Jaemin answers Donghyuck's phone call with a sultry the purr of "give it to me, baby boy" the morning after The Night of Disasters as Jisung likes to call it, Jisung can't listen to it anymore and leaves the room. He hopes no one will come after him and just let him have a second to think.
Chenle sits down next to him approximately ten seconds after Jisung dramatically slides down the wall in an empty, secluded hallway.
"So do you want to willingly tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to get Renjun to beat it out of you?"
“Jaemin and I, we....kissed, last night," Jisung admits, struggling through the sentence. He's looking at his own hands, so he doesn't see the shock flit across Chenle's features.
"And not just a peck," Jisung continues on, beginning to ramble, "After I talked to the suspect and told them he was harmless, Jaemin took me outside for 'fresh air.' When we got out there, he told me he wanted me to practice for the future, backed me against the wall and told me that he hated seeing that man flirt with me. Then he kissed me, and we stayed out there for almost half and hour maybe, just kissing."
Chenle's smile spreads across his face slowly. "So you made out with Jaemin."
"We didn't make out," Jisung hisses. He buries his face in his hands. "Oh my god, did we?"
Chenle pats Jisung on the back gently. "There, there, little Jisung. At least it wasn't your first."
Jisung remains quiet.
Chenle's eyes widen comically. He swats Jisung on the arm. "You mean to tell me you're nineteen years old and that was your first kiss?"
Jisung pins the elder with a withering glare. "In case you haven't noticed, I have a Bachelor's, a Master's, and two Ph.Ds. I didn't exactly have time for romance in my teenage years."
“Fair," Chenle amends. "So what's your next move?"
"His next move is to get his ass in my fucking office," Mark's voice cuts in. Jisung groans. It's never good when Mark starts swearing.
Jisung thanks Chenle for checking on him, then trudges into Mark's office and sits down. Renjun’s there too, eyebrows pinched together, and Mark lays a hand on his thigh.
“He kissed you,” Renjun states once the door is closed.
“Yes.”
“And you kissed him back.”
“Yes.”
“That bitch—”
Jisung’s eyes widen in alarm at Renjun’s language. Mark snorts, patting Renjun’s thigh. “Renjun, they were literally making out when I found them, and they were gone for forty five minutes before I even started looking. He enjoyed himself, believe me.”
Renjun is quiet for a moment before he asks, “Does he know you like him?”
“Renjun!” Jisung hisses, eyes widening. “I told you that in confidence!”
“Silly child,” Renjun laughs. “This isn’t anything Mark hyung doesn’t know.”
“You told him?” Jisung asks, incredulous.
“No, actually. He told me,” Renjun replies, smiling a little. “He came up to me at your nineteenth birthday party and said ‘I think Jisung has a crush on Jaemin,’” he lowers his voice in a poor imitation of Mark’s, who makes an offended noise.
“As much as you don’t want to, you should do something about it. This is your job, and I doubt you want workplace drama any more than the rest of us do,” Mark explains.
Jisung worries his bottom lip between his teeth. “And if he rejects me?”
Before either Mark or Renjun can get an answer out, there is a few sharp raps on the door. When Mark gives the okay to enter, Chenle pokes his head in.
“Sorry to interrupt, but there’s been an emergency. The body of one of the little girls was just found.”
“Fuck,” Mark swears, voice loud. “Fuck.”
“I sent Jeno and Jaemin to the scene a few minutes ago,” Chenle adds before disappearing.
Renjun is standing next to Mark in a fraction of a second. He looks up at Jisung. “We will continue this conversation later, okay?”
Jisung nods and takes his leave. Before he closes the door, he sees Mark hunched over, Renjun rubbing circles onto his back and holding his hand.
“Do you know why Jisung walked out earlier?” Jaemin asks, breaking the silence in the car on the way back from the scene.
Jeno looks out of the corner of his eyes. “You’re not serious, Jaemin. You’re not.”
Jaemin looks perplexed. “I am serious! Do you know something I don’t?”
Jeno sighs, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Jisung has the biggest puppy crush on you. It’s like the worst I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen Donghyuck look at Mark.”
“Jisung likes me?” Jaemin asks, smiling softly to himself.
“Yes, idiot. He thinks you’re unattainable. And you flirting with Donghyuck all the time doesn’t make him feel any better about it,” Jeno says matter of factly.
“Does it bother him that much?” Jaemin questions.
“Is the sky blue? Does Renjun love Mark?” Jeno replies back.
Jaemin makes an offended noise and looks out of the window to avoid Jeno’s negative energy. He sees a man getting a child out of his vehicle, but the way he is holding the small girl seems detached and somewhat off.
He grabs his phone out of his back pocket to call Donghyuck, scrolling through his contacts and hurriedly pressing the call button. When the call goes through, Jaemin starts speaking.
“Hey baby boy, I need you to do something for me.”
There is a small silence before a voice that is not Donghyuck’s starts speaking. “Hyung, I think you’ve called the wrong person.”
Jaemin brings his phone away from his ear to look at the contact name. He’d accidentally clicked on MochiSung, Jisung’s contact name, instead of Moron, Donghyuck’s contact name. He nervously brings the phone back to his ear.
“Hey, Jisung,” he says breezily, and Jeno roars with laughter beside him. “What’s up?”
“You called me.”
“Right,” Jaemin says, biting his lip. “Can you gather the others and connect me to Hyuck?”
“They’re all here, but I’ll connect him for you,” Jisung says. Jeno laughs again, thinking about how their whole team has listened to Jaemin royally screw up.
“Hey baby,” Donghyuck’s voice comes through the line and Jaemin sighs in relief. “How can my fingers be of use to you on this fine day?”
The wording is a little too raunchy for barely 11AM on a Tuesday. “Donghyuck,” Mark reprimands sternly, and Chenle’s loud laughter rings out through Jaemin’s phone.
“What’s the address of our unsub?” Jaemin asks.
There are faint typing noises, then “Sajik Road, Building 102. Why?”
“Fuck,” Jaemin swears as they pass the road sign with that exact street name on it. “I think I just saw the unsub.”
“You what?” Renjun asks in disbelief, and Jeno looks alarmed as well.
“We’re on the way back from the scene and I just saw a man carrying a little girl out of his car, but the way he was holding her was a little too impersonal to be family,” Jaemin says.
“What do we do?” Jeno asks, panicked. “We don’t have any backup.”
“Whatever you do, don’t go in,” Mark orders. “Neither of you. I don’t want you going in alone and getting hurt.”
Jaemin thinks it over for a moment. “Hyung, I can’t do that. I can’t not go in there.”
“It’s not up for discussion, Jaemin.”
Jaemin promptly hangs up the phone, but not before there is a strangled cry of “Jisung!” through the speaker.
“Jeno, turn the car around. I’m going in,” Jaemin says.
Jeno looks bewildered. “Mark hyung gave us an order not to go in.”
“There’s children in there, Jeno. Defenseless little girls. I can’t not help them. Not after Soojin,” Jaemin argues. Jeno hasn’t stopped the car, but Jaemin unbuckles his seatbelt anyway, and folds his arms.
Jeno sighs, realizing that he won’t win this, especially after Jaemin mentions his dead little sister. He turns the car around and drives back to the street they were on. He parks the car a few yards down, Jaemin looking at him curiously when he reaches in the backseat to grab his bulletproof vest.
“What are you doing?” Jaemin asks.
“You didn’t think I’d let you go in alone, did you?”
First, Jaemin feels panicked because they are definitely going to get in trouble for this, likely suspended from the field for a few cases. Then he feels relieved, because Jeno is such a good friend and he’s glad he doesn’t have to do it alone.
“Let’s get this bastard,” Jaemin says, getting out of the car and removing his gun from his holster.
Jisung leaves the room as soon as Jaemin starts talking back. Mark should know by now that Jaemin places his morals before anything. Jisung knows that Jaemin is going to go in there with his glock 22 and a Lee Jeno, and the mere thought terrifies him.
Jisung had been doing heavy research after the Night of Disasters. Their unsub has been arrested for many acts of petty larceny in his adolescence, and had only escalated from there. In his college years, he’d been arrested for assault and battery on various women, and a few men as well. The most recent and perhaps scariest charge under the name of Kim Kibum is attempted murder of a law enforcement official.
Jisung’s petrified.
He stops his car in the middle of the street, jumping out and leaving the doors wide open. People will soon figure out what’s happening anyway, so he can’t bring himself to care at the moment. He knows Mark is hot on his tail, calling for backup, and that thought is all it takes for Jisung to approach the house, gun cocked and loaded. Save the little girls, find Jaemin and Jeno. He repeats it like a mantra in his head.
Jisung has never done this by himself before. It feels bizarre to check a room for a threat and not have someone else behind him to confirm. It’s strange, and oddly more lonely than he had been anticipating. He makes it through the kitchen and living room unscathed, quietly, but at the foot of the stairs he comes across a very familiar body, sprawled out with limbs at awkward angles.
Jisung presses the ‘talk’ feature on the communication device strapped to his chest while his other hand checks the pulse. “Mark,” he whispers. “Mark, fuck, Renjun, Chenle, someone please come in.”
“I’m here, Jisung,” Chenle answers, voice quiet.
“Get Hyuck to send an ambulance. Jeno’s down.”
Jisung cards a hand through the elder’s hair softly. He’s bleeding pretty heavily, but Jisung knows the high vascular property of the scalp. That doesn’t stop him from panicking though.
But he has a job to do, and knowing Jeno is injured just fuels his need to find those girls and Jaemin. He follows the faint sound of voices upstairs. On one side of the hall, there’s a man’s gritty voice, and that’s definitely Kibum. But on the other side, Jisung can hear muted weeping. He heads in that direction first.
He opens the door slowly, and is taken aback by the sight. The five little girls are huddled in the corner, crying, but largely unharmed. Jisung steps into the room, taking in the surroundings. It’s a child’s room, with yellow painted walls and a black and white photo of a family hanging on the wall. Jisung takes it down, and he notices how every single one of the little girls on the floor looks similar to the one in the photograph.
“Oppa is here to save us!” one of the little girls cheers, but Jisung is quick to press a finger to his lips in a ‘sh’ motion. They obey, and he takes the time to inspect the room for threats. There are none. Jisung is appalled.
“Okay,” he whispers to the little girls, holstering his gun, “You have to listen to everything oppa says. Can you do that?”
The little girls nod feverishly. Jisung’s heart feels heavy.
“I want you to hold hands really tight, and go down the stairs very quietly. I want you to go sit on the porch, and some men with a shirt like me will come and help you,” he says, gesturing to his vest. The girls are listening to his every word.
“The most important thing is that you all stay together, okay? Stay close, and do not let go of each other’s hands,” Jisung closes, and the children are already beginning to grab each other’s hands. He sends them out of the room first, making sure they get at least five steps down before leaving the room himself.
He knows Jaemin is in the room down the hall. A small part of him wants to wait for backup to arrive, to let Mark handle this. But the bigger, more sensible part of him is aware of the fact that if those little girls were left unharmed and haphazardly placed, then Jaemin has all of Kibum’s attention. He begins to walk down the hall.
“That’s just the way it has to be,” is the first thing Jisung hears when he opens the door. Jaemin’s vest is at the floor near his feet, his shoes filthy and damaged. Kibum is talking himself in the mirror. Between himself and the mirror is Jaemin, unmoving, with his own glock 22 pressed to his temple with Kibum’s finger on the trigger.
Once Jisung’s eyes land on the gun, his mind goes blank. Every single one of his nerve cells is alive with anxiety, screaming at him to shoot Kibum through the head, take Jaemin and go, but he can’t. He’s too well trained in his field. The idea is to get the criminal into custody alive. If Jisung violated that, he’d not only lose his job, but Mark’s respect and companionship. Jisung grits his teeth and takes a deep breath, remembering everything in Kibum’s files despite the twitching of his finger on the trigger.
“Kibum,” Jisung begins. The criminal whips around, surprised, and takes Jaemin with him. He seems to be in shock as well, and Jisung immediately recognizes that it’s because he’s alone.
Kibum tightens his arm around Jaemin’s throat.
“Don’t come any closer!” Kibum shouts as he takes in Jisung’s uniform.
“I know what happened to your daughter, Kibum. I know what happened to Dambi.” Jisung tried again. The child’s name is all it takes for tears to spring to his eyes. Jisung continues on.
“I know that she was killed in a car accident, and I know those little girls were your attempt at finding her replacement. You can’t replace your daughter, Kibum. It’s impossible.”
“I can try, can’t I?” Kibum asks, voice cracking. Jaemin remains motionless, quiet. Jisung refrains from looking at him.
“I know you feel like it’s your fault, but it’s not, Kibum,” Jisung tries to reason. The criminal has started to cry, tears streaming down his face and gun shaking unsteadily in his hand.
“What about Eunji,” he cries. “Why did she leave me? Why did she leave me if it wasn’t my fault?”
Jisung takes a deep breath. He’s never been a great liar. “You can ask her yourself. She is down at the station. She came down when she heard you might be involved.”
Kibum’s eyes grow wide. “Is she really there?”
Jisung nods slowly. “Yes, she’s really there. All you have to do to see her is put the gun down.”
Kibum looks unsure, but puts it down anyway. Jisung has never been a good liar, but his words must sound like heaven to a desperate man. As soon as the other’s weapon hits the floor, Jisung is holstering his gun and reaching for his handcuffs. He doesn’t get there though, because suddenly Mark is coming from behind him, handcuffs already brandished. The elder cuffs the criminal, beginning to read him his rights as he takes him out of the room. He pats Jisung on the butt gently, giving him a small smile.
Jaemin still hasn’t moved when Jisung turns back around. “Jaemin hyung, are you coming?”
Jaemin throws himself into Jisung’s arms. He is aware that Jaemin is probably only hugging him because he was close to death, but Jisung’s heart stutters anyway.
“Thank you,” Jaemin murmurs into the crook of Jisung’s neck. “Thank you for coming to get me immediately. I might be dead right now if you hadn’t.”
Jisung rubs him on the back, not really wanting to let him go just yet. “Don’t thank me for doing my job, hyung.”
Jaemin pulls back, collecting his long forgotten vest from the floor. They begin to walk out of the room and down the stairs when Jaemin says it. “Jisung, can we...can we talk about what happened last night?”
“No.”
“No?” Jaemin repeats, appalled.
“You just had your own gun held to your head for what I assume is an extended period of time. My feelings for you can wait for another time,” Jisung says.
“Your what?”
Jisung doesn’t respond, instead rushing down the stairs to help Renjun. He’s trying to coax the little girls into separating, but they deny him, holding fast, saying “oppa told us not to let go!”
Jaemin goes to sit next to Jeno on the back of the ambulance. Jeno’s looking around, eyes following a man that Jaemin can’t place, but he takes all of Jeno’s attention when he arrives.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been pushed down the stairs,” Jeno replies.
Jaemin winces. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to come in with me.”
Jeno sighs. “Yes I did, Jaemin. It’s okay.” He takes the ice pack off of his head. “I was close to passing out when help arrived. Who got there first?”
Jaemin bites his lip. “It was Jisung.”
Jeno rolls his eyes. “Of course it was. The lengths that kid would go for you.”
Jaemin winces again. “Jeno,” he whines.
“You need to talk to him. Are you going to talk to him?” Jeno presses.
“I tried!” Jaemin bursts out. “I asked him if we could talk about last night and he said no and that his feelings for me could wait for another time.”
“Wait a minute,” Jeno interrupts. “What happened last night?”
Jaemin pauses. “I might have made out with him.”
“Jaemin.”
“He looked too good yesterday, Jeno,” Jaemin hisses. “It’s Hyuck’s fault!”
“And I suppose it’s Renjun’s fault that Jisung actually kissed you back, because he dressed you?”
“Yes!” Jaemin exclaims, clapping his hands. “You’re getting it!”
Jeno flicks him on the forehead. “Talk to him, Jaemin.”
The younger of them sighs. “I will. And if we’re discussing talking to people, you better talk to that SWAT guy that keeps looking over here every two seconds.”
“Fuck,” Jeno says. He starts to fix his hair, and Jaemin laughs at him. “He’s looking over here?”
“And walking in this direction,” Jaemin slides off the back of the truck. “Go get ‘em tiger.”
Jaemin walks away and the other man approaches, looking bashful. Jeno coughs, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he has that Jaemin has picked up on. Jaemin decides he’s going to be fine.
They land in Seoul at 9PM. The flight is short but not quiet, Mark and Renjun’s incessant arguing filling up the plane. Jisung tunes them out and ends up falling asleep while holding Jaemin’s hand. Renjun eyes their entwined fingers warily, making a cutthroat motion while looking at Jaemin. He gulps, nods in understanding. He kisses Jisung’s hand and falls asleep as well.
Jaemin listens with downcast eyes as Mark chews him out in his office. He only opens his mouth to say “yes sir” and “no sir” in response to Mark’s questions. He suspects that Mark hates being the bad guy, because the lecture is much shorter than Jaemin was expecting.
Mark can be mean when he wants to though, and Jaemin leaves the room looking wounded until he sees Jisung waiting for him outside Mark’s office. Jaemin grins at him, and he takes Jisung’s hand.
“Mark hyung can be pretty...mean when he wants to be, huh?” Jisung asks, swinging their hands between them.
“I directly disobeyed his orders. I can’t exactly blame him.”
Jisung hums his agreement. “Mhm. Did he suspend you?”
“Nope,” Jaemin laughs.
Jisung gasps. “How did you avoid that? Mark hands out suspensions like people hand out candy on Halloween.”
“I kissed him,” Jaemin says nonchalantly.
Jisung drops Jaemin’s hand like he’s been burned. “Jaemin.”
“Oh my god, Jisung, I was kidding!” Jaemin laughs, doubling over. Jisung pouts at him. “I don’t want to kiss Mark. Who do you think I am, Renjun?”
Jisung pouts even more. “That’s not funny Jaemin.”
“Look at your face,” Jaemin keeps giggling. “You looked so upset.”
Jisung sighs. “You're an asshole.”
The elder grabs Jisung’s hand again, and is pleased when Jisung entwines their fingers on his own. “Stop pouting like that, it makes me want to kiss you.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe I want you to kiss me?”
“Ooh,” Jaemin coos. “So confident. ‘That’s not where I want you to kiss me,’” he mocks, recalling Jisung’s words from the previous night.
The younger groans. “Please don’t talk about that.”
Jaemin holds the door open for Jisung. “Well it got me to kiss you, didn’t it?”
“You are right about that,” Jisung agrees. He walks with Jaemin over to his car, and they stop outside of the driver’s side door. Jisung thinks really hard about what he should do now, but before he can make a decision, Jaemin is pressing his lips to Jisung’s. It’s soft, not at all like how they were yesterday, and somehow Jisung likes this better.
Jisung goes to grab Jaemin’s waist and he drops his keys on the ground. Jaemin laughs as Jisung bends down, face burning, to retrieve them. He laughs harder when he smacks his head against the mirror as he tries to stand.
Jaemin bites his bottom lip. “You’re a dork.”
Jisung gives a small smile. “See you tomorrow?”
Jaemin nods, then presses a kiss to Jisung’s cheek. “Goodnight, Jisung.”
Jisung waits until Jaemin drives away before swooning into his own car, heart pounding and face flushed with warmth.
There is a knock on the door as Donghyuck is packing up his things. Jaemin is the person sent to fetch him from the tech room after cases so they can go get drinks, but it’s also a small period of time in which they can talk and Donghyuck can remind himself of why he and Jaemin are so close.
Donghyuck beams as he’s manually closing the windows in his computers. “How's my beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, intelligent, soft hearted, incredible best friend doing on this fine evening?"
"I'm doing just fine," the voice comes and fuck. That’s not Jaemin.
Donghyuck spins around in his desk chair to see Mark, leaning against the door frame with his tie undone, looking effortlessly handsome. His arm rests around the shoulders of an equally as handsome Renjun, first few buttons of his shirt undone. Donghyuck feels himself start to sweat.
“Fuck!” he yells, then decides that’s hardly language to use in front of your employer. “I mean shit, I mean—”
Donghyuck shuts his mouth and bows a full ninety degrees, trying to stop making a fool of himself. And it works, temporarily. Mark and Renjun are watching him flounder around with small smiles.
"Mark, he's so cute," Renjun says, and Donghyuck’s face burns. Mark hums in agreement and Donghyuck kind of wants to die.
“Hyuck, do you want to get drinks with us?" Mark asks.
"Aren't we all going?" Donghyuck asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
Renjun shakes his head. "Chenle disappeared, Jeno's out on a date with Yukhei from SWAT, and Jaemin is probably corrupting my sweet little Jisung as we speak."
"I don't know..." Donghyuck trails off. Donghyuck is a flirt, but that’s only with people he doesn’t have romantic feelings for. He turns into a bumbling fool around people he likes, which explains why his brain is struggling to string words into sentences in front of Mark and Renjun. Being around one of them is bad enough, but both? Donghyuck wouldn’t survive the night.
Mark senses his hesitation. "Come on Hyuck, please?"
Who is Donghyuck to say no to those puppy eyes?
“Okay, let's go."