Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1: CHAN
“Who even commissioned this?” Hyunjin asks, holding up the inconspicuous letter between two fingers like it’s a cigarette ready to be discarded. The nail polish has started to chip off his fingers, and Chan swears he can see a little bit of it stuck in the felt of his jacket.
“I’m not sure.” Chan sits up straighter in his chair so that the wooden backrest doesn’t dig into his spine as much. He folds his fingers together on the table. “All we know is that they have the right connections to get to us, and they’re offering a more than generous price. It’s not even that hard of a job. We just need to pick up that boy and bring him to the mentioned location at the right time.”
On his left, Changbin rises slowly from the couch, eyelashes still sticking together from just having woken up. “What the hell are you two even talking about?”
“Give it to him.” Hyunjin hands the envelope to Chan, who takes it and immediately frisbees it toward the couch.
“Read it,” he says and watches Changbin take the letter out of the envelope. The blanket slides off his shoulders when he moves his bangs out of his eyes. Something about post-nap Changbin makes Chan softer than he usually is, and he doesn’t even mind.
“A bounty?” Changbin asks, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “Neat… this is about some black market guy? Han Jisung. I thought the police were on this case already? Who would hire us to do it then?”
Chan shrugs. “It’s probably because it’s an easier job for us, as we have connections in the underworld. As I said, I’m not sure who sent it, but we can easily pull this off. And for that price?”
“We should do it, shouldn’t we?” Hyunjin looks at him with that glint in his eyes he always gets when they’re about to do something risky, and Chan would be lying if he said he didn’t feel that same spark waiting in his chest.
“When were we ever the ones to back out of a challenge?” Chan asks, rhetorically of course. Changbin still answers with a (still very sleepy) cheer. On the wall, a metal contraption ticks to a stop, and a shrill sound rings through the room. A customer.
Chan watches Changbin roll off the couch. The floor thuds when his chunky boots hit the wooden boards, and he brushes some dust off his trousers. As he opens the door of the backroom, Hyunjin catches him by the arm. “Binnie,” he says in a low voice. “Are you sure it’s a good idea?”
Changbin looks him carefully in the eye, and Chan can sense a certain tension lingering in the bit of air between the two. “Why not?” Changbin asks.
“Too easy. Too much money. And the police are involved. ” A shudder goes through Hyunjin’s body as he says those words. “Did you already forget what happened last time the police were involved?”
Changbin takes two steps to approach him and gently caresses his cheek, even going as far as to leave a small kiss on the slope of his nose. “Don’t worry your little pretty head. It’s not like last time.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I promise.”
The magic words. Chan sees Hyunjin’s shoulders slump in relaxation at the reassurance, and then Changbin leaves, dropping his blanket in a pile on the floor. Still, Chan felt like there was something off about Hyunjin’s demeanor. Maybe he was still worried, or there was something else bothering him. Through the wooden door, there were the muted sounds of Changbin speaking to a customer, and machines letting off steam in the background.
Hyunjin sits down again and, with nimble fingers, pulls out a small box from his tool belt. Chan knows it’s a gift for Changbin, a necklace Hyunjin has been working on for quite a while now, but the slight shake in his fingers shows that it’s more than just a gift. It’s a distraction from what’s bothering him.
“Hyunjin,” he says, watching the mechanic’s fingers still on his little project. “Are you okay?”
Hyunjin’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, and he nods hesitantly, gazes still fixed on the intricate pendant.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Another nod and Chan stands up to join him on the couch. It dips beneath his weight, the leather creasing where he sits. “Right?”
A soft sigh leaves Hyunjin’s lips. “Yeah, I know.”
“Good.” Chan pulls Hyunjin into his side, making sure not to crush the delicate pendant between them, and rubs firmly across his back. Hyunjin’s eyes close into two crescents lined with make-up, and Chan removes a small smudge of motor oil on his temple. Even with the little streak of sluggish brown, he is one of the most beautiful things Chan's ever seen.
The sand of the racing track dusts up around Chan’s feet. The sun burns brightly in the sky, and he swears he can see the air ripple above the ground. Behind him, the stands are bustling with activity and excited shouts. A few machines are already approaching the lineup spot where the race will start later. It’s all smooth sailing so far, thankfully.
“Chan,” Changbin says, somewhere behind him. Chan swivels around, coming face-to-face with him, and nearly knocks headfirst into the large metal rod Changbin is holding.
“What’s that?” he asks, pushing the thing aside gently so it’s not quite hovering in mid-air, where it could stab innocent bypassers in the face.
“Not sure, Hyunjin told me to fetch it. Anyway, that’s not the point. I did some… research this morning while you and Hyunjin were preparing for the race, trying to find out some more stuff about that Jisung guy, and I found some really interesting things. I wrote everything useful down, so I’ll show it to you later, okay?”
“Yeah, of course. You’re great, Changbin.” Chan pats him on the shoulder, and his eyes flick over to the entrance of the terrain again, where Hyunjin is checking guests for possible affiliation to government organizations. Not that the police would dare lay a finger on them again, with their gang’s infamy, but still. Formalities. And it soothes Hyunjin’s worries.
“Oh, and also, there’s a pretty big turnout today, so we should watch the crowd. They won’t try to shut us down, but complaints about drunks and junkies will attract unwanted attention.”
He knows Changbin’s right, especially with the bottles and inconspicuous little packages already being passed around in the stands. “Yeah. I trust you can keep them in check, right? If you see any wax being taken just kick that person out immediately.”
“Wax prohibited, as always,” Changbin affirms. He wipes some sweaty hair off his forehead and flashes Chan a devilishly handsome grin. “About that… I found out why Han Jisung is as hard to catch as he is.”
“Do tell.”
“He’s a wax dealer, gets around smearing magical abilities onto himself and others. I’m pretty sure that’s why he hasn’t been caught yet. He operates solo but has an entire network of wax dealers and users around him. Black market stuff stays under the radar until it’s time to make bank.”
Chan’s nose scrunches up involuntarily. Maybe it’s the sand dust in the air that’s making his skin itch all of a sudden. “A wax dealer, huh? No wonder they wanted to keep that case a secret. Those guys are sly, and if more people find out how lucrative that… business is… yikes.”
“He’ll be no match for you, though,” Changbin says. “He’s just a plain old human, after all.”
Chan nods. “Don’t underestimate him, though. Non-mages can be nasty too.”
“Like Hyunjin that one time, when he managed to trick you into thinking we were all going on a bounty hunt but he organized a date for us at some high-end place.” Changbin shakes his head jokingly. “Truly nasty.”
“As if you’re any better.” Chan lets Changbin pull him into a tight hug, even if their shirts are objectively sticky and the summer sun makes it uncomfortably warm between their bodies.
“Now,” he says when they pull apart. “Let’s start the race. The stands might riot if we don’t soon.”