Chapter Text
[“Run through the maze like a beast.”]
“Hey there,”
Han’s breath caught in his throat. He’d heard about this man. One of the youngest Sergeants of his time, full of wit and charm and raw talent. His brain was rumoured to work nonstop, and the hours that he poured into his job showed that he was not only dedicated, but a monster – it was like he barely even needed sleep.
He was the golden boy of CID, and Han was standing right in front of him.
Han felt his eyes widen against his will, and his jaw dropped. If Han was being honest, he was the most gorgeous man that Han had ever laid eyes on all of his twenty-two years of living. A strong jaw and bright eyes, lit by a steely glint. Shoulders broader than the Pacific Ocean, straining against his white shirt, which had Han’s mouth watering. Soft, full lips, that were currently being pulled between his teeth. A smattering of freckles across his nose, if Han really squinted. Messy, ash blonde hair that was still mussed from sleep, that Han wanted to run his fingers through. The man was a fucking ten. No, a twelve. No, a one hundred.
“Police Constable Han, right?” And oh god, his voice. It was just the right amount of warm and sweet. He sounded confident, yet reassuring, and it was doing things to Han’s head. He was friendly, yet just a little detached, enough to remain professional without coming off as a dick. And his smile went all the way to his eyes, which were crinkled into half-moons. His smile was a little lopsided, and his grin bared all his teeth. He looked so much better than he ever had on the television screen.
He was perfect.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” He blinked out of his reverie and hurried to snap his jaw shut.
“Y-yeah.” Great. Thirty seconds into their first interaction and he already looked like an idiot. “But just Han is fine too.” The Sergeant’s smile widened, if that was even possible. “It’s nice to meet you, Detective Sergeant Smith.” At this, the older man’s eyes widened. He looked surprised.
“Nice to meet you too, just Han.” The man’s lips twitched, as if he was laughing at his own joke. It was both sad and endearing, and Han felt a smile begin to tug at his own lips. “But how do you know my name? I’m not wearing a badge, and no one knew I was coming.” At this, Han flushed.
“To be fair, sir, you are fairly well known around here.” At this, the Sergeant’s eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into his messy curls.
“Please, call me Chris. I hate the formalities.” The Sergeant crossed his arms over his chest. “And also – well-known? That’s hardly likely.” Han couldn’t tell if the other man was being serious or not. Did he just want Han to stroke his ego?
“I’m pretty sure you’re the guy who solved the Southside Strangler case a couple months back.” Han bit back, quirking an eyebrow. At this, the Sergeant’s eyes widened.
“You make it sound like it was single-handed.” The Detective sighed. “I promise you, I’m not a rogue genius. I do like working as part of a team.” He looked almost…annoyed. Not like he was trying to goad Han into praising him, but like he was genuinely offended. Maybe Han was just used to being on the defensive. It was easy to survive as a PC, but hard to excel, unless you had connections. As much as Han didn’t want to admit it, the police force was still rife with corruption. And he was just a tiny little speck in a sea of other like-minded idiots.
But Chris was like Han. He’d started as a nobody too. He had also seemed like a loner, from what Han had heard on the grapevine. When the first press conference for the Southside Strangler case had aired, Han had expected to see a cocky young man, hair slicked back, suit neatly ironed and pressed. But Chris had looked like he’d just rolled out of bed after a few hours sleep. His shoes were scuffed and his shirt was wrinkled. He’d looked incredibly nervous and pale.
Han had both empathised with and been in awe of the other man he’d seen on the screen. He was only three years older than Han. The craziest thing was, he hadn’t seemed out of reach. Not like the rest of his dreams. Seeing Chris made Han wonder if he could be successful too, if he could achieve his goal of becoming a Detective one day.
“Sorry.” Han bit his lip, glancing at his feet. “I just – I’m not used to someone from CID being…” He struggled to find the right words.
“Approachable?” Chris offered. Han looked back up at him, finding Chris offering him a small smile. “Not a total dick?” Han bit back a laugh.
“You could say that.” Chris chuckled at this. “Tell me, Han, ever thought of being a Detective?” Han’s eyes widened in shock.
“H-huh?” Once again, his brain instantly assumed the worst, expecting Chris to launch into a speech bragging about his achievements.
“I’m looking for recruits to recommend to CID.” Han clenched his jaw tightly to stop it from dropping. He’d assumed that the Sergeant was here to talk to his superiors, probably about a case or two. This was the last thing he could have expected. “So, interested?” Han’s heart began to hammer loudly in his chest. He desperately tried to think of intelligent words to string together, wracking his brain for how to impress the Sergeant –
“Yes!” He blurted out, his brain having malfunctioned under all the pressure. Chris just grinned at him.
“Why?” Well, Han hadn’t gotten that far, had he? He looked away, his cheeks flushing.
“I – to be honest, it’s been a dream of mine for a while.” He shuffled his feet nervously. “It’s embarrassing, but I…I know that my current job is to give justice to the living. But I want to give justice to the dead as well.” Chris’ eyes sparked with an emotion that Han found hard to name. He looked intrigued.
“Homicide department. Interesting.” Chris was nodding slowly. “That’s my home base.”
“I know.” Once again, the words escaped him before he could filter them for stupidity. Did they do brain transplants? He was down to his last sensible brain cell, and clearly that was on the verge of jumping ship as well. “What’s it like when you can’t solve a case?” He blurted out. At this, the Sergeant’s eyes widened. Han wondered briefly if Chris thought he was an idiot. He’d thought about asking about how good it felt to solve a case, if it was hard to be the bearer of bad news, if it was terrifying or exhilarating to see a corpse. But he could ask anyone that. But this question – he needed it answered truthfully, not matter how brutal. As Chris just continued to stare at him, Han was hit by a jolt of realisation.
Chris understood.
“Earth-shattering.” The Sergeant murmured. “Hours of your time feel like they’ve all been for nothing. The nightmares and guilt never go away. It’s not just hard. It breaks you.” The Sergeant sighed heavily. “But still, it’s worth it. At least you tried to find peace for your victim. And if you can genuinely say that you did everything you possibly could, then it’s still good enough.”
“Okay,” Han inhaled through his nose, counting to five before he opened his mouth. “I’m interested.”
Chris held out his hand, and Han gripped it tightly.
“I look forwards to seeing you in CID, Han.”