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wonpil tightens his grip around his gun, shoulders shaking and palms sweaty, fighting every instinct in his body telling him to shoot.
“please… don’t make me do this.”
but his words fall on deaf ears, just useless garbling to a predator indifferent to the plight of a prey.
wonpil knows he will have to choose.
to kill or be killed.
it’s cruel really, how facing the possibility of death makes one ponder every decision that led up to this moment.
< 1 >
“forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!”
brian smiles as he slips the last few bills onto his partner’s hands. “great work today, kiddo. now why don’t you give your uncle a kiss before you leave?”
a menacing growl slips from the small bear ‘cub’ in front of him, followed by an uncharacteristically gruff voice that one probably wouldn’t expect at first glance.
“don’t make me bite your face off, punk,” sungjin warns before climbing onto his van and slamming the door shut. hard.
this demeanour is likely why strangers tend to find sungjin intimidating, but brian’s known him long enough to laugh it off, unfazed.
“you know you love me, hyung!” brian sings, brows wiggling as he takes out a leftover pawpsicle for himself.
in response, sungjin simply flips him the finger before driving off.
which subsequently reveals a very familiar uniformed rabbit standing on the other side of the street, now making his way towards brian, fists clenched tightly by his sides and feet stomping harshly against the pavement.
as if his anger wasn’t evident enough, the officer is also glaring intensely at brian, his lips pursed into a tight frown, looking as intimidating as he possibly can be.
and yet brian doesn’t feel threatened in the slightest, in fact, the sight only blooms something warm and fond inside his chest.
he’s always been weak to cute things.
“we meet again, officer—”
“you awful, lying, swindling, scoundrel,” officer kim immediately accuses, voice turning shrill, brows furrowing and nose scrunching.
brian tries to fight his growing smile.
but it’s already taking all of his self-control to not coo at the adorable man standing in front of him.
“oh, i’m glad you’re amused, mr. kang. i’m placing you under arrest, right now!”
“slow down and take a breath first, little bunny.” brian chuckles, twirling his red pawpsicle at the other man before popping it in his mouth. “what exactly are you arresting me for?”
“i’m—” officer kim frowns, pink flushing across his face, matching the shade of the soft, round rabbit ears sprouting from his curly hair. “don’t call me that!”
and like the pawpsicle dripping a burst of raspberry on his tongue, brian thinks his heart might be melting inside his chest a little.
“apologies officer,” brian says, and the rabbit’s narrowing eyes tell him they’re both aware that he means none of it. “so. why am i getting arrested?”
“don’t play dumb. i know exactly what you’ve been up to.” officer kim then pulls out a notepad from his belt, brows knotting in concentration as he flips through numerous pages of notes. “for your information, i’ve actually been surveilling you the entire day.”
somehow, that triggers an unfamiliar feeling within brian, one that gives him the sudden urge to pat the rabbit’s head, to praise him well done for a day’s hard work.
even if his intention was to throw brian behind bars.
“you’re building quite the rap sheet, mr. kang,” officer kim continues, tone chastising as he fixes brian a disappointed look, appearing more akin to an elementary teacher than an authority of the law funnily enough, “selling food without a permit, transporting undeclared commerce across borough lines, falsely advertising—”
much to his own chagrin, brian finds himself fishing into his back pocket for his papers out of habit, cutting off the rabbit’s cute ramblings.
“my permit,” he says, presenting officer kim with the first sheet, and then the second, “my receipt of declared commerce,” his smile is now a full-blown grin as he notes the growing exasperation on the other man’s face, “and i did not falsely advertise anything.”
“did too!” officer kim argues, now radiating the energy of a disgruntled third grader. “you told those mice that the pawpsicle sticks you sold were redwood, even though they clearly weren’t.”
“actually,” brian pauses to finish the last of his pawpsicle and pulls it from his lips, showing the body of the coloured stick, “there’s a space in the middle here, see? so it’s red wood. wood that is red. therefore, i did not lie.”
“maybe not technically—but… but…” officer kim stammers, mind no doubt racing a mile a minute in order to find anything that he can pin brian with. cute, cute, cute. “you’re still deceiving people. which is wrong.”
when brian woke up this morning, dashing the hopes and dreams of an adorable, albeit much too naive and idealistic cop wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.
he almost feels bad about it.
almost.
“relax,” brian says, eyes glinting, “it’s just a hustle, sweetheart.”
he throws in a wink for good measure, and tries not to feel too pleased at the various emotions flashing across officer kim’s face.
but when the roulette settles on murderous intent, well, brian doesn’t need a clearer cue to run for the hills.
< 2 >
“sunbae! i’ve got him!”
wonpil curses under his breath as he heads towards the sound of his junior’s voice, he should’ve known the overeager puppy officer would follow any order but stay put.
they were definitely going to have a long, long talk after this.
following the sounds of a possible altercation, he makes a sharp turn at the corner of the alleyway, eventually spotting the two figures at the dead end who are currently… locked in a strange game of tug of war?
“ugh. stop. resisting!” dowoon growls, pulling aggressively at the suspect’s jacket.
“then stop. stretching. my clothes.” said suspect grunts, and wonpil finds himself recognising that voice before he even made out the entire silhouette of the man himself. “i told you. you’ve got the wrong person.”
“officer yoon.” wonpil frowns, arms crossing. “would you mind explaining what’s going on?”.
dowoon perks up at the sight of wonpil and starts nodding enthusiastically. his brown, floppy ears flying comically along with the motions.
wonpil has to hold back a sigh, because dowoon still got one hand fisting tightly around the upper sleeve of the other man’s jacket and he doesn’t even have to check to know that his junior probably misplaced his handcuffs somewhere.
again.
“i saw the suspect running into this alleyway and immediately pursued him. as you can see, this wall is a dead end. so i inferred that he trapped himself here cause he couldn’t climb over it!”
this time wonpil actually does sigh.
it’s not exactly the worst call dowoon has made whilst on the field, but still, they shouldn’t be arresting people based on assumptions either.
that said, the suspect in question is, after all, a certain swindling pawpsicle seller that wonpil knew all too well.
“officer kim!” brian calls as soon as he seems to recognise wonpil, an expression of relief washing over his face.
as if he’s making the bold assumption that wonpil would somehow be his saviour.
wonpil almost snorts at that notion.
“please, i’m really not the guy you’re after,” brian pleads before turning to scowl at dowoon. “you’re wrong, by the way. i just happened to be here when your suspect ran into me, and then he did, in fact, climb over the wall and escape.”
at that, wonpil looks past him to assess said wall.
he’s climbed enough of them back during academy days to know that this one was a little over six metres, and without adequate footing and ledges in the vicinity, it was nigh impossible for even a trained rabbit like him to scale it without assistance.
which means that:
a) brian is probably an accomplice, and a habitual liar as always, or
b) brian is, for once, telling the truth and is therefore, an important witness to an already bizzare case
and as much as wonpil wants to run with the former, the possibility of the latter is, unfortunately, something he can’t discredit at the moment.
(and perhaps even worse, something in his gut is telling him to trust brian on this one. ugh.)
“let’s just go back to the station together,” wonpil decides, “because i’ll need to take your statement regardless, mr. kang.”
brian freezes at the suggestion, and wonpil doesn’t miss the momentary panic that flashes across his face, right before it’s quickly covered up by his signature, casually confident half-smile, like he truly had nothing to hide.
and this is another thing about brian that irks wonpil.
that subtle, self-assuredness that the fox exudes on a daily basis, like a picture perfect facade, which he suspects is one of the reasons behind brian’s spotless record.
it’s an irresistible kind of charm, wonpil supposes, he can almost understand how one would find it disarming.
almost.
because unfortunately for brian, it’s not going to work on him.
(so he claims, face totally not straining to maintain an impassive expression.)
“could we take a raincheck, perhaps?” brian asks, in that gentle, smooth voice that’s deceptively polite and gentleman-like as always, “i promise i would be happy to come visit the station tomorrow myself.”
wonpil narrows his eyes at the fox. “i’m afraid that’s not up to you to decide, mr. kang.”
dowoon suddenly raises his hand, eyes shining. “can i shoot him if he runs?”
wonpil pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “please don’t do that.”
“are you gonna shoot him if he runs?” dowoon asks instead, grinning much too gleefully for wonpil’s liking.
“what?” brian blinks between them. “he wouldn’t shoot me.”
wonpil merely raises a brow at that.
“oh my,” brian gasps, but the slight twitch of the other man’s lips reminds wonpil of all the other carnivorous jerks that continue to underestimate him, “maybe you’re a lot tougher than i imagined, little bunny.”
(and there it is.)
(the easy way those pet names just roll off the fox’s tongue and stir an uncomfortable heat in the pit of wonpil’s stomach.)
“i’m not a bunny!” wonpil protests, foot slamming against the ground defiantly.
it’s annoying. brian’s annoying. extremely so.
because wonpil isn’t usually a person that is easy to anger, and yet brian somehow knows exactly how to get under his skin, how to knock down every piece of wonpil’s carefully built composure.
every. single. time.
as if further proving wonpil’s point, brian barks out a laugh that’s one part hearty and two part obnoxious, like the annoying fox that he is.
“well, you might not be a bunny, but that guy is!”
wonpil reflexively turns toward the direction the other man was pointing at, but is struck with confusion when he fails to see anyone—
and then brian suddenly speeds past him like a blur, sprinting out of the alleyway within seconds.
for a long beat of silence, wonpil could only stare into the distance, mouth hanging agape.
“oh man, he’s fast, huh?” he hears dowoon whistle behind him. “maybe you should handcuff him first next time, sunbae.”
wonpil immediately smacks his forehead against a nearby wall, defeated.
< 3 >
“mr. kang, we need to talk.”
at the sound of wonpil’s voice, brian’s ears immediately perk up.
he’s even more delighted when he turns around and is greeted with the sight of the officer hunched inside a small police cart, a small pout already forming on wonpil’s face.
“ah! my favourite rabbit officer in zpd,” and before wonpil can give his usual ‘i’m the only rabbit officer in zpd!’ retort, brian continues with an easy grin, “sure, i suppose i can spare a few minutes to chat.”
“i’m not here to chat,” wonpil says, snappy as always, lifting the smile on brian’s face. “i have some urgent questions to ask you. it’s about an important case.”
brian decides to approach the vehicle, one arm comfortably finding purchase over the roof of wonpil’s cart before he leans in, lips curling teasingly at how the officer backs away in response.
normally he would stop here, but there’s always a rush that comes with flustering wonpil, to see the brightening colours of his round cheeks and his pretty eyes fluttering under his prettier lashes.
it’s almost too addictive.
“well,” brian starts with an easy smile, “this sounds like a conversation to have over dinner, not in the middle of the streets. don’t you agree, little bunny?”
wonpil scoffs and lightly pushes brian away with his pen—which brian just realised… is in the shape of a carrot.
because of course it is.
because everything about wonpil is so damn adorable.
“for the last time. i’m a fully grown, adult rabbit,” wonpil huffs, nose scrunching and arms crossing petulantly, which ironically defeats his point to be honest. “and no, thank you. i don’t eat dinner with dubious salesmen who deceives people for a quick buck.”
“ouch. you wound me, officer,” brian says, putting his hand on his chest with a feigned hurt look, “i assure you, me and my very legitimate business make more than just ‘a quick buck’.”
wonpil snorts, giving brian’s pawpsicle stand a quick once-over and looking extremely unimpressed while doing so. “your two bucks worth of pawpsicles doesn’t impress me.”
“try two hundred, fluffy,” brian corrects, chest puffing, “and that’s just what i make in a day. i’ve been working this hood every day of every week of every year since i was twelve. do the maths and tell me if that doesn’t impress you.”
wonpil blinks rapidly, as if he couldn’t believe what brian had just said.
heh.
“wow,” the rabbit marvels aloud, “i see you’ve got quite the work ethic.”
at that, brian preens. “and that’s just one of my many attractive qualities.”
he doesn’t normally brag like this, but impressing wonpil always sparks a strange level of joy, and brian’s having too much fun lately to properly unpack why.
“you know how they say time is money? well, i’m a man who doesn’t waste a second.”
“um… sure, mr. kang. anyways…” wonpil then takes out a photo and shows it to brian, fingers pointing at what appears to be an otter, one that quickly strikes recognition in brian’s head. “i believe mr. choi is one of your regular customers, correct? could you tell me what you know about him?”
brian leans back, pausing pensively.
as far as he’s concerned, youngjae is just an ordinary college student who really likes pawpsicles. he can’t imagine that boy getting entangled with the law in a bad way, so there’s probably no harm in telling wonpil about him.
but that doesn’t mean he has to make it easy.
“i suppose i could, but my time is money, remember?” brian tilts his head, purposefully looking as obnoxious as possible. “what exactly can you give me in return?”
“hmm, let me think.” wonpil hums, tapping the tip of his carrot pen against his chin. “i could refrain from sending you to jail? how about that?”
brian laughs aloud, absolutely endeared. so wonpil is in a playful mood today.
“oh? and how exactly will you send me to jail?” brian challenges, voice lilting teasingly, “last i checked, you’ve got nothing to charge me with, officer.”
“check again.” wonpil’s smile suddenly shifts, looking downright mischievous as he cuffs one of brian’s hand to the cart—wait when did he even?—and announces, “kang ‘brian’ younghyun. you’re under arrest for felony tax evasion.”
brian freezes. “sorry, what?”
“i must admit, mr. kang, you are impressive,” wonpil says, eyes sparkling and tone dripping with mocking sweetness, “cause you see, i actually did do the maths.”
wonpil then pulls out a clipboard from behind and starts scribbling on it, but he doesn’t take his eyes off brian for a single second.
it’s somehow very frightening (and extremely attractive at the same time).
“two hundred bucks a day, every day for the past two decades, correct?” wonpil looks down at the clipboard and lets out a dramatic gasp. “wow! that’s one million, four hundred and sixty thousand dollars worth of pawpsicles. isn’t that something?”
“uh…” brian stands uncomfortably, slowly realising that for once, he is the prey being toyed by the predator.
“well for someone who supposedly owns a very legitimate business that makes seventy three thousand dollars a year,” wonpil continues, flipping through the pages on his clipboard before showing brian a stack of papers that drops a pit in his stomach, “care to explain how you’ve failed to report said income on all of your annual tax forms? surely you’re aware that lying on a federal form is a punishable offence, mr. kang.”
“that’s… that’s quite the accusation, officer,” brian laughs, shaky, “but at the end of the day, it’s only your words against mine—”
try two hundred, fluffy. and that’s just what i make in a day—
wonpil pauses the recorded audio coming out of his pen, clearly biting down the satisfaction twitching from the corner of his lips at brian’s shocked face.
“unfortunately, it’s your words against you. so unless you want to sell your knock-off pawpsicles in the prison cafeteria for the next five years, you’re going to tell me exactly what i need to know. okay?”
and for the first time since they’ve met, brian is stunned into complete silence.
as if the exact same thought just crossed his mind, wonpil mirrors brian and tilts his head, a smirk pulling from his lips in the same manner, achieving a lethal combination of cute, cocky and confident all at once.
and this, ladies and gentlemen, is the exact moment that brian realised he was doomed.
“relax,” wonpil says, eyes twinkling, “it’s just a hustle, sweetheart.”
yeah, he is so fucking doomed.
< 4 >
“AHHH!” wonpil shrieks, quickly shielding his eyes from the scandalous sight of a shirtless brian with his hands, “why are you stripping?!”
“it’s a naturalist club, officer,” the fox chuckles, now stripped down to just his boxers, “would be disrespectful of me if i didn’t.”
wonpil gulps. perhaps he should’ve prepared his mind and heart the minute he realised how naked that receptionist was behind the desk.
but then again, how could anything prepare him for this?
(how could anything prepare him for brian?)
(also are street criminals usually this swole? what the hell?)
“do i… also have to…?” wonpil asks meekly, though he fears he already knows the answer.
“i suppose not,” brian says, and for a moment wonpil almost felt a little relief, “but… they might not let you inside if you don’t. and you wouldn’t trust me going in alone, would you?”
wonpil sighs. of course. this is reality.
if solving this case was going to be that easy, then the chief wouldn’t have made him stake his entire job on it.
“okay, but. um… can you look away for a moment?” he asks, voice almost a whisper, “please?”
wonpil already knows it’s a stupid request. it’s not like he can hide anything once they’re inside anyways.
but. still.
brian chuckles softly, but thankfully doesn’t say anything and turns his back towards wonpil exactly as he was asked to.
(and fine. perhaps these… little gestures is why wonpil doesn’t truly dislike brian.)
wonpil eventually does the same, mentally pushing away the haunting image of brian’s bare ass and the growing embarrassment he’s feeling as he strips away his clothes, face burning hotter with every inch of exposed skin.
it’s not that he’s ashamed of his body or anything. objectively speaking, wonpil is no longer a scrawny little kid from the countryside.
also, he’s aware that the tough training from his academy days has gotten him into pretty good shape, coupled with a daily exercise regime that has him constantly getting pestered by officer wang (damn, bro. how much do you bench? wanna share protein recipes?).
the problem is, well, call him a prude perhaps, but wonpil just isn’t comfortable enough in his own skin, fit body or not, to be walking around in his birthday suit in front of complete strangers.
he’s not someone like brian, who has no qualms presenting himself so openly to the world, with his charming smile and tall frame and broad shoulders and well defined muscles and—
holy shit. are those actual abs?
self-preservation instincts kicking in, wonpil immediately smacks himself across the face.
maybe a little too hard, because the slap resounds throughout the hall, but he’s grateful for the throbbing sting on his cheeks, screaming—bonk! control yourself!—at him.
mind now settled, wonpil lets out a long exhale before walking through the door.
“what’s wrong?” brian approaches him, eyes gentle and sounding genuinely concerned, “why did you…”
“just needed to wake myself up,” wonpil explains, looking away from brian to spare his other cheek from pain. “i’m good now—AHHH!”
wonpil hands flies back to cover his face, horrified by the surrounding nakedness of everyone around them.
dear god, he expected a certain level of it, but now that he’s actually inside, he realises there is nothing on earth that could’ve prepared him mentally for this much nudity.
“is this place making you uncomfortable?” brian asks, voice soft, ever patient, in that annoying way that makes wonpil’s stomach twist with warmth. “we could always just give up and leave.”
wonpil huffs. ‘give up’ doesn’t exist in his dictionary. never has and never will.
he didn’t drag himself to hell and back, worked his tail off to finally achieve his lifelong dream of becoming the first rabbit officer in the zpd, only to give it all up here because of some mild personal discomfort.
“no.” wonpil pulls his hands away, eyes glowing with determination. “we’re staying. i need that lead and i will get it.”
“wow, little bunny,” brian whistles by his side. “you never cease to amaze me. truly.”
wonpil looks at him with a pout. “i’m not a bunny.”
brian chuckles. “alright, alright, so. what’s the plan, officer?”
wonpil won’t ever admit it aloud, but there’s a calming effect that comes with their usual banter, helping him return to his rhythm.
(sometimes he suspects brian is aware of that and does it on purpose.)
(he doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.)
“i’ll head over to the yoga class.” wonpil quickly decides. “you can go to the pool and ask around there. we’ll meet back at the entrance in… let’s say fifteen minutes?”
“aye, aye, captain.” brian grins, throwing a salute at him and starts marching backwards like a drunk soldier, unperturbed by all the strange looks people are sending his way.
wonpil quickly walks in the opposite direction, because he totally isn’t fighting a smile, shut up, he refuses to validate brian’s stupid sense of humour.
fortunately, the universe seems to have decided that wonpil deserves some reprieve from his recent string of bad luck, because it doesn’t even take him ten minutes to find enough witnesses to corroborate a lot of key information about youngjae.
now he has a lot more to work with: an approximate timeframe, what youngjae was last wearing (outside of course), the make and model of the car he apparently left in, and perhaps most importantly, the licence plate of said car.
lady luck was finally turning over to wonpil’s side and he’s going to ride it out for as long she’ll have him.
he quickly runs back to his agreed meeting spot with brian afterwards, eager to share his latest findings, and that’s when he sees dowoon.
he sees dowoon talking to brian.
he sees dowoon talking to brian, in uniform, fully clothed.
fully. clothed.
probably picking up his scent, dowoon turns and makes eye contact with him, opening his mouth to say something, but the words seem to die in his throat when he fully takes in wonpil’s state.
wonpil blinks.
dowoon blinks back.
it’s an uncomfortably long and silent stalemate.
“sunbae,” dowoon eventually says, brows knitting in confusion, “why are you naked?”
“because…” wonpil mumbles, equally as confused, “we’re supposed to…“
and then he pauses.
because there’s a shit-eating grin on brian’s face.
“officer yoon, can you hand me your gun real quick?” wonpil asks, all the emotions draining from his face at the same time that full-on fear takes over brian’s.
dowoon runs to him and does so without hesitation, tail swishing as he grins like a kid on christmas morning. “are you finally gonna shoot him?”
“hold on now, let’s think about this carefully, yeah?” brian raises his hand, gesturing his surrender. “you don’t actually want to shoot me, do you officer?”
wonpil merely raises a brow.
(and dials the knob down to the lowest setting.)
seconds later, he leaves with a satisfied smile, skipping his way out the door while humming in contentment like a little kid.
behind him, both brian and dowoon are lying on the ground, writhing uncontrollably.
dowoon from doubling with laughter, cackling like a madman.
and brian from the pulsing electrocution of the taser probes in his back.
< 5 >
when brian first volunteered (read: got reverse uno-ed by the cutest rabbit ever) for this investigation, he didn’t think finding one missing otter was going to be that difficult.
…or life threatening.
“officer kim to dispatch.” wonpil‘s fingers are clenched a little too tightly around his radio, understandably desperate. finding a signal in the middle of the rainforest district was not an easy feat. “i repeat, officer kim to dispatch! can anyone hear me?!”
“hey, kim.” a bored voice yawns through the radio. “didn’t know you were on the night shift. what’s wrong?”
“officer park,” wonpil says, trying to remain calm, but the panic lacing through his voice is obvious, “we have a 10-91. i repeat. we have a 10-91. requesting immediate backup.”
“wait—seriously?” brian can hear the shuffling sounds of the dispatcher scrambling around on his desk. “sending backup to your location now. what happened, kim?”
“i don’t know!” wonpil whisper-yells, conscious of his volume and their lack of hiding spots amongst the forest canopy, “the witness suddenly turned savage and now he’s trying to kill us.”
which would sound like the trailer of a shitty horror movie if brian wasn’t there with wonpil witnessing it himself, and even then, he still can’t believe what he saw just minutes ago.
it all happened so fast.
one moment they were speaking to a mild mannered taxi driver, and now, they’re frantically fleeing from a bloodthirsty panther who will probably tear them to shreds, if the torn sleeve of brian’s shirt and the claw scratch on his skin wasn’t indicative enough.
“okay. backup will be there in ten to fifteen minutes,” the dispatcher tells them, and brian is relieved that whoever it is seems to have complete faith in wonpil’s judgement. “do you think you can hold on until then?”
“i’ll try but—” wonpil’s long rabbit ears raise stiffly at that moment, which brian knows is a sign of impending danger, and therefore a cue for them to keep moving.
silently, he gestures for wonpil to follow, carefully walking along a path of shadowed branches, avoiding the piercing moonlight that could reveal their location to the predator skulking probably not far from them.
although it normally brings him comfort, the silence of the night and the breeze whispering amongst the trees tonight is eerily unsettling, to the point where brian can hear his heart hammering away inside his chest.
running for your lives certainly opens a new perspective on things.
suddenly to their left, there’s audible sounds of leaves rustling harshly, which wonpil reacts to instantaneously, jumping out of his skin and clutching onto brian’s back.
for a minute too long, they remain attached together just like that, still as statues.
brian’s heart is hammering loudly again, but for a different reason this time.
“uh…” he speaks up first, now realising it was probably just a strong gust of wind, “i think we’re okay.”
“are you sure?” wonpil asks, voice muffled by his face that is still glued to brian’s back.
brian contemplates for a moment. because yes, he is sure, but he won’t deny that having wonpil pressed against his back like this is… nice, in a way that makes his chest feel warm and jittery.
“yeah, let’s keep moving,” he eventually answers, heart clenching with fondness when he looks down to find the rabbit still clinging to him, “you can hold onto me tighter, if you want.”
immediately, wonpil pulls away, face blank and blinking rapidly, like he just started processing their lack of proximity for the past few minutes, and ah—that adorable, rosy blush is back, deepening in redder shades every second.
“i wasn’t teasing, you know,” brian assures. not that teasing wonpil isn’t fun, but, that isn’t his intention right now.
“whatever. let’s just go—“ wonpil stills for a second, hand pawing repeatedly at his belt, “—oh no, no, no.”
“what’s wrong?” brian asks.
“my radio,” wonpil answers, “it’s not on me. i must’ve dropped it when i—“ his face flushes again, coughing into his hands as he looks around their vicinity, eyes rounding when he spots it, “down there.”
brian follows the direction the rabbit is pointing at, and sure enough, it’s lying on a branch underneath them, open for all to see.
it’s risky. too risky. too much like a slasher movie cliché. but before brian can advise otherwise, wonpil catches onto a nearby vine and jumps down, swiping the radio into his hand and flying back up within seconds using the momentum of his swing.
brian just stares, mouth dry and heat simmering in his stomach.
wonpil blinks back at him, totally oblivious to how hot that entire sequence was—which only drives brian even more insane because how does he not know?—before switching the radio back on.
“officer kim to dispatch. what’s the eta on backup?”
it takes a second too long, but the radio lights up again, albeit flashing a little erratically.
“kim? what’s wro…? off...er kim?”
“officer park?” wonpil says, now sounding worried at the stuttering static, “jinyoung? can you hear me?”
“...onpil…i can’t h…r yo… cle…ly…” the radio sputters before shutting down, completely cutting off their last means of communication.
wonpil groans, frustrated. “it’s dead.”
unfortunately, they don’t get to dwell on it, as a blood curdling growl reverberates through the air, followed by total, terrifying silence.
wow, they really are in a slasher movie cliché.
“brian!” wonpil’s voice pulls his attention. “the sky trams!”
brian looks into the distance, spots the station wonpil is gesturing towards, and nods back in understanding.
and then they run, as if their lives depended on it—because it does. brian may like to joke about being delicious, but flirting with wonpil and becoming panther chow are two entirely different contexts.
they don’t look back, and more importantly, they don’t stop, so he’s exhausted by the time they make it onto the station dock, panting for air to save his collapsing lungs.
suddenly, brian feels a weight pushing—no, kicking into his back, sending him tumbling straight into the stationary tram with a groan, back throbbing lightly.
it’s completely unexpected, because wonpil doesn’t normally get this violent with him.
“what was that for?” brian turns, eyes widening when he sees the panther in between them, snarling at him like a missed meal, “oh. i see…”
he braces himself when the panther prepares to lunge at him for a second attempt, but as soon as it takes off into the air, a hidden force pulls it back down crashing into the floor.
“start the tram!” wonpil yells from where he’s standing, and brian finally notices his cuffs linking one of the panther’s hind legs to a nearby pole.
“but—”
wonpil stares hard at brian, with that determined fire in his eyes again. “trust me!”
it’s all brian needed to hear. with a grunt, he pulls himself up and slams his palm down on the green button of the control panel, hearing the sounds of gears clicking as the tram begins moving.
he turns back and sees wonpil take off at that moment, sprinting along the edge of the dock like a track athlete.
it’s like the world is slowing down at the same time that brian’s heart starts beating faster, everything moving in slow motion as he watches wonpil blazing straight through the panther, dodging a swipe of claws by sliding through the floor, before finally pushing on his heels at the edge of the dock, leaping into the air and, ah okay, he’s flying this way, fuck—
“ow…” wonpil winces, even though he’s the one who crashed into brian’s arms and knocked them both down.
“that was really reckless,” brian says, eyeing wonpil with fond exasperation as they slump against the wall, sitting side by side, “you’re going to give me a heart attack, little bunny…”
“not a bunny,” wonpil answers automatically, breaths heavy from exertion but still mustering the energy to squint at brian. “and you can’t lecture me about recklessness, hypocrite.”
brian blinks, following where wonpil’s eyes are staring at his wounded left arm, no doubt remembering how that happened only because he jumped inbetween wonpil and a thrashing panther.
yeah, so maybe brian is a hypocrite.
but he also doesn’t like the expression on wonpil’s face right now, eyes lowered and lips pulled thin, guilt clearly gnawing at him from the inside out, for something that brian—instinctively and out of his own volition—did.
“this?” brian laughs, pretending like he doesn’t feel the stinging pain now that the adrenaline has worn off, “it’s just a little scratch, pillie. shouldn’t you be thanking me for saving your life instead?”
“i saved your life just now!” wonpil argues, a little more lively now that he can mask his feelings with annoyance for brian. cute. “so i’d say we’re even.”
“okay, okay.” brian shakes his head. “i just can’t win against you.”
wonpil tilts his chin, looking adorably smug for a moment, but he can’t seem to hold the expression when his eyes trails back to brian’s arm, softening with worry. “how are you feeling, really?”
“peachy.” brian grins. “probably gonna go run a marathon after this. you?”
“ugh. you’re impossible.”
“yeah. and you like that about me.”
wonpil scoffs, tone dismissive despite his reddening ears. “i wouldn’t count that amongst your ‘many attractive qualities’, no.”
brian raises a brow, smirking. “so you’re admitting i have attractive qualities.”
“what? that’s not—no!” wonpil stammers. it’s as easy to make him blush as ever. “don’t put words in my mouth!”
brian laughs, suddenly feeling a little brave. “if it makes you feel better, i think you have plenty of attractive qualities yourself.”
“stop it.” wonpil scowls, or tries to, the smile tugging from the corners of his mouth is obvious. “you’re just teasing me.”
brian doesn’t know why he keeps toeing the line today, but he’s decided not to fight it anymore.
“i’m not.” he eyes wonpil softly, holding his gaze for a moment, but perhaps it’s too much for wonpil right now, looking extremely flustered under brian’s intensity, so he relents once again. ”but you are fun to tease, that i admit.”
“you’re the worst.” wonpil hides his face into his knees. “i regret asking you for help. i swear i should’ve—“
“arrested me?” brian laughs again, now in a cheeky mood. “don’t threaten me with a good time, officer.”
wonpil just huffs in response, as usual, refusing to validate brian verbally when he’s ran out of front to give.
this time brian decides not to push it further, not lest he himself can find the courage to confront this unspoken thing between them.
(but it’s a little terrifying for him too.)
without anything to say, they lapse into silence.
it’s not uncomfortable, not when the exhaustion has caught up to them anyways. brian can feel his entire body begging for respite.
“can you. um…” wonpil mumbles just as brian starts nodding off, “not tell anyone… about… you know…”
brian blinks, it’s taking his slowed, sleepy brain a minute to process what wonpil is saying, but when he recognises that shade of red on wonpil’s cheeks it just clicks.
“i don’t think anybody would take my words over yours, so why worry?”
“that’s not the point.” wonpil pouts. sometimes brian wonders if he truly doesn’t know how he’s abusing his innate cuteness. “just. promise me. please?”
honestly, how is he supposed to win against this?
“my lips are sealed, pillie,” brian promises, tracing a mark over his chest, “cross my heart.”
wonpil slips a quiet giggle. “your heart is on the left, silly.”
“oh. right.” brian repeats the motion on the other side of his chest and then looks to wonpil for approval. “better?”
at that, wonpil breaks out into full blown laughter, all bright and gummy, apple cheeks rising and teeth flashing as his eyes curve into happy lines, just unabashedly bursting with joy.
it’s beautiful, brian thinks, happiness is beautiful on wonpil.
it feels right—fitting. so much so that brian decides then, as he listens to the melodious laugh of an angel on earth, that he would do anything to keep wonpil happy.
even if this man might be the death of him someday.
“yeah,” wonpil answers, settling back into a soft, warm smile. “better.”
brian smiles back as the pieces of his heart crumble into the ground and sweep itself into wonpil’s hands.
he really is weak to cute things.
< + 1 >
it’s hard to pick what he regrets most right now.
too many moments to count, too many decisions to reconsider, too many could’ve, should’ve, would’ve.
what hurts most though, is the belated realisation that all of his regrets revolve around one person.
“just shoot him, officer kim,” the voice above him urges, sadistically amused at his inner turmoil, “you can save yourself, and be branded a murderer. or. let him kill you, and become a martyr.”
“screw you,” wonpil hisses as he backs up against the wall, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots up his injured leg, another consequence he has to bear for his stupidity.
he continues limping away, hoping to find an exit hidden somewhere, ignoring the uncomfortable truth that he already knows deep down inside.
there’s no running. there’s no hiding. he’s well and truly out of options.
“oh, don’t be so cold, dear.” mayor jung clicks her tongue. “you only have yourselves to blame for sticking your nose where it didn’t belong.”
wonpil scoffs, refusing to dignify her cliché b-rated villain lines with a verbal response, instead focusing back on the man in front of him.
“brian. it’s me,” wonpil pleads once more, “i know you’re still in there somewhere, please, fight it.”
brian simply growls, eyes gleaming like a feral beast, watching wonpil with such intense focus that he knows there’s no chance of him escaping brian’s sight.
“we both know he can’t hear you anymore,” mayor jung says, words stinging wonpil more than he will admit, “so what will it be officer? your life, or his?”
wonpil doesn’t think of himself as brave, despite what others may say. he just tries to be, because trying is what he does best, it’s all he knows how to do.
but perhaps for the first time in his life, wonpil is actually scared, because he’s tried and tried and it still isn’t enough.
he knows what he has to do to survive though, knows that he’s simply a trigger away from living another day.
so wonpil closes his eyes.
and he drops the gun.
it doesn’t take long for brian to seize the opportunity, tackling wonpil down into the ground within seconds.
“brian.” he tries again, even as he can feel claws seconds away from piercing into his skin. “come back to me.”
but brian’s grip on him is strong, keeping wonpil completely pinned down, defenceless and helpless, about to be killed by the person he trusts most—
—by the person he loves.
“hyung.” wonpil resigns to his fate with a whimper, eyes squeezing shut as a single tear rolls down his cheek.
but the pain doesn’t come, instead he feels brian’s lips grazing against his cheek, claws retracting into warm, soothing hands.
“ah…” brian sighs, letting out a quiet chuckle only he can hear. “i just can’t win against you, can i?”
“b…brian?” wonpil blinks up at him, still in disbelief as brian simply stares back, eyes softening with affection.
“shhh,” brian hushes sweetly, “play along, pillie. she wants a show, so let’s give it to her.”
he nudges something inside wonpil’s pocket, and on a silent cue, wonpil makes a show of pushing brian away with an unexpected amount of strength, giving himself time to limp towards another corner as brian rolls across the floor, temporarily ‘stunned’.
“is this what you want?” wonpil yells, “to incite a civil war? ‘us versus them’?”
“my dear, it was always us versus them. i’m just doing what has to be done,” mayor jung replies without a hint of remorse, “but a civil war? please. in this city, prey outnumber predators ten-to-one. it won’t be a war as much as a one-sided massacre.”
wonpil frowns. it’s upsetting to think that he was fooled into believing someone like this was sweet and harmless. “so that’s it? predators get wiped out and then what? you take over and start your fake utopia?”
“that’s a rather offensive oversimplification, but… yes.” mayor jung laughs, on a monologue high like the b-rated villain that she is, “no more will we live in a world where we are underestimated, underappreciated, undermined,” she clearly likes her alliterations huh? “haven’t you felt such injustice all your life, officer kim? don’t you think we deserve to level the playing field?”
“i don’t think mass genocide can be equated with equality,” wonpil retorts.
“let’s just agree to disagree.” she sighs, fixing her glasses as she looks down wistfully at him. “it’s a shame though. i truly did like you, you know?”
genuinely caught off-guard, wonpil yelps as he’s trapped against the wall by brian, who furthers the act by snarling menacingly.
it’s almost convincing from how good he is at mimicking a savage beast, but up this close, wonpil can see how the corner of his lips is twitching with amusement.
it’s kind of… cute.
his thoughts dissolve as brian leans in, clearly supposed to be aiming for wonpil’s jugular, so wonpil forces himself to scream.
…but it comes out all pitchy and robotic, terribly fake even to his ears, making heat rush to his face.
hey, it’s not like he ever claimed to be an actor.
“wait—no, stop,” wonpil giggles when he feels lips nipping at his neck, “that tickles, hyung.”
“sorry,” brian says, although he’s clearly anything but, smiling against wonpil’s skin. wonpil suddenly wonders if his heartbeat is as audible to brian as it is to his own ears. “you’re too adorable, it’s killing me.”
wonpil huffs. he kind of hates that he doesn’t hate the swooping feeling in his stomach now. “you know you’re supposed to be killing me right?”
mayor jung watches them, completely shell-shocked now that they’re no longer continuing their impromptu act.
“what is going on?!” she demands, zeroing on brian. “why are you not—”
“yeah, about that.” brian looks up at her, frowning as he swipes along the splash of blue smeared along his nape. “you really should check before shooting people so carelessly. blueberries hurt a lot more than you think.”
“blueberries?!” she screeches, now checking the chamber of the gun she shot brian with, eyes bulging when she realises his deception.
“from my grandparents’ farm,” wonpil explains, grinning proudly as brian takes his arm around his shoulder to support him, “don’t you know they’re a superfood?”
fury takes over the mayor’s face, marring her innocent features for a few seconds before she manages to recollect herself, calmly straightening her pantsuit.
“you may have escaped death, but you’re only prolonging the inevitable.” mayor jung laughs. “nobody will find you—“
“—in here!”
wonpil can’t help but snicker in satisfaction at her shocked face, unable to comprehend how the tables are all flipping on her, one by one.
“ZPD!” he hears dowoon barks. “don’t move. we’ve got this entire place surrounded!”
the sounds of marching footsteps grow louder, and wonpil watches as the panic flashes through her face and then—an idea?
she smirks down at them and proceeds to throw her gun into the pit, the object bouncing near their feet.
wonpil shares a look with brian, who is just as confused, and a little curious as they watch her turns toward the approaching policemen.
“officers!” she snivels, putting on her best ‘distressed victim’ act, “please help me! these two… intruders suddenly stormed the city hall with some kind of weapon!”
brian whistles as they listen and wonpil silently nods in agreement.
she‘s definitely a sociopathic masterclass in manipulation to think of a plan within such a short timeframe.
“they’re the true culprits behind the savagery incidents!” she continues, sniffling as she wipes some tears at the corner of her eye, wow, wonpil is almost impressed.
almost.
“is that true sunbae?” dowoon yells. that little shit. “does that mean i can shoot someone now?”
wonpil sighs at his ever trigger-happy junior. “you can shoot her if she runs, i guess.”
“cool!” dowoon cheers, probably fist pumping right now.
mayor jung bounces her gaze between them, evidently confused. “did you not hear me, officers? they are the culprit, not me. the evidence is with them. you can check right now!”
“yeah, actually, it is,” wonpil agrees, pulling out his pen from his shirt pocket and clicking on his favourite button.
my dear, it was always us versus them. i’m just doing what has to be done.
“no, no, no,” mayor jung looks horrified as the realisation hits her, “that’s not—how did you two?” she screams, “how?!”
wonpil blinks up at her, purposefully batting his lashes in faux-innocence. “wow, you really didn’t know, did you?”
brian laughs aloud, cheeky dimples peeking as he openly revels in their victory. “i guess we should spell it out for her, pillie.”
they turn and look at each other, brian slipping on a sleazy grin and wonpil lips thinning into a smirk.
and then they open their mouths in unison.
“it’s called a hustle, sweetheart.”