Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

1.

"He exists, he saved us!" Jeongin shouts as they barge into Mr. Kang's office, ignoring the urgent tugging on his arm from Jisung, and then immediately shrinks when he notices that he has company. He offers a sheepish smile and a half bow. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, sir."

Mr. Kang sighs, rubbing at his temples. "I apologize," he says to the guest in his office. "Don't let the rudeness confuse you, our work place isn't always like this."

"It's fine," the man says, now that Jeongin is looking at him, he notices that the man is handsome, though clearly a little uncomfortable. His grin is bright and polite and he has dimples. It's cute. 

Focus Yang, Jeongin tells himself as he shakes his head and focuses on Mr. Kang. "Uh, sorry. But we need to talk. Now."

Again, Mr. Kang sighs. "Mr. Bang is our newest apprentice," he says to the man, gesturing towards the stranger, "This is one of our reporters, Mr. Yang," gesturing towards them, "And our photographer Mr. Han."

"Sup," Jisung says, and Jeongin doesn't have to look behind to see him nodding as he does. 

"Okay, it's a pleasure to meet you," Bang says, standing immediately and sheepishly offering a bow. "I'm Bang Chan."

"Yes, great to meet you," Jeongin says in a rush, then focuses on Mr. Kang. "Please can we have the room?"

"Oh," Bang says, sounding disappointed, or maybe insulted, it's hard to say. "Uh, yeah. Of course."

He's about to leave when Mr. Kang says, "No, stay."

"What?" Jeongin asks, he hears an echo of voices. 

"Close the door, Han," he adds, the door clicks and he continues, "Since you're both here, I'm assigning you to teach Bang the ropes."

"Seriously?" Jisung asks.

"Are we being punished?" Jeongin asks, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is unfair. No offence."

"Um, none taken?" he answers, confused. 

"It's not, but the fact you think it is says a lot," Mr. Kang answers, "Please help him settle in and look after him."

Jeongin thinks they're definitely being punished, he shares a look with Jisung, who shakes his head immediately. Then, Jisung says, "Of course, sir. We will."

Mr. Kang eyes him like he definitely knows what Jeongin is thinking, he nods. "Alright. So, what is it you burst into my office to tell me?"

Jeongin perks up. "Yes! The flying man that is rumored to be saving people all over the city? He exists, and we have proof," he says, he hears a cough from the intern, but barrels on: "That story we were chasing about the stolen military weapons, well, we found them. And we nearly died but the flying man saved us."

Mr. Kang tilts his head, clearly intrigued. "Okay, show me the proof."

Jisung eagerly pushes forward offering his camera to Mr. Kang. "It's all there, sir. All the proof of the robots and the flying man."

Mr. Kang takes the camera and starts scrolling through the picture, his face going from blank to distinctly upset looking. He frowns as he continues to scroll, then looks at them, "These are all useless."

"What?" Jeongin asks, pulling the camera to him, both Jisung and the intern eagerly crowding each side of him. Quickly, he clicks through. And sure enough, nothing but blurs that can barely be made out. This is just how every photo of the flying man looks.

Bang chuckles, looking sheepish when Jeongin shoots him a glare. 

"Oops?" Jisung adds, grimacing when Jeongin turns to glare at him. 

"Okay," Jeongin says, clinging to any resolve he can. "But we lived through it, we can still—"

"Do you have proof that the robots existed? Of who stole them from the military base?"

"Um, no."

Mr. Kang sighs. "Then, this story is dead in the water, Yang, you have no credible proof to back it up."

And Jeongin knows he's right, he hates it though, the Daily Planet is not a tabloid. They run credible stories and nothing based without substantial proof. He slumps as he shoves the camera at Jisung, who groans slightly. 

"But—"

"Hard facts, Yang," he says, "We work in hard facts, that's the name of the game."

"Sorry for wasting your time," he says, feeling embarrassed. 

"It's fine," Mr. Kang waves off. "Just check your proof before barging in. Now, shoo. Go work on your other assignments."

"But what if—"

"Out," Mr. Kang says cutting off Han's sentence, "Or I'll force you to work the sports beat with Kim."

"Yes, of course, Chief, we are out of here," Jisung says hurriedly, giving a bow and grabbing Jeongin's arm as he leads them out. "Love you, sir! C'mon, newbie."

As they're wandering through the bullpen towards their office, Jeongin can't help being angry at this whole situation.

"So, what's your name, newbie?" Jisung asks.

"Bang Chan," Jeongin says without thinking, there's silence and he glances to see both of them frowning at him. "You said it back in the office."

"Oh, right," Bang says, smiling and nodding. "Yeah."

"Have you always lived in Metropolis?"

"I'm from Australia," Bang answers.

"Oh! Australia! That means you have an accent, right?" Jisung asks, clearly intrigued, "I need—"

That makes Jeongin stop in his tracks, and looks back at him, "Australia? Why'd you move here?"

Bang nods, "Yeah, I decided to move here to get to know my roots, you know."

"Ah," he says, abruptly turning to go into their office and immediately going to his desk dropping his belongings on it. 

Jisung drops into a seat and stares at the ceiling. "How long have you been in Korea?"

Jeongin zones out as he moves to grab Jisung's camera and plugging it to his computer. He doesn't care about the details that lead the intern to their city, or even their workplace, he needs to focus on something. He moves to scroll through the pictures, finding the ones that look the least blurry. 

He starts printing them out.

"So," Bang says loudly, "What story will you be working on now?"

Jisung hums, "We have two that we should be working on. What do you say, Innie? The one about the theater being torn down? Or the fluff piece on Wang's charity work?"

"Ah, which theater?" Bang asks, clearly intrigued. 

"It's on 42nd—"

"Neither," Jeongin says, as he rolls over to the printer, he grabs the papers.

"Huh?" Jisung asks, he can hear the frown in his tone, "Kang is going to kill us if we don't do at least one of the assigned pieces."

Jeongin groans as he walks over to the cork board and says, "Fine, we'll do both. But let's not waste all our energies on it."

Jisung whistles, "Okay, what's our main goal."

"What does that mean?" Bang asks.

"It means he's got something cooking in that crazy brain of his," Jisung stage whispers. Then, "Tell us, Yang."

Jeongin starts taking down all the papers hanging on their cork board, mostly random notes on articles long printed and published. Some crude doodles when they were bored, or from Seungmin when he drops in occasionally. All of them torn down, he'll deal with cleaning it up later. In the center of the board he pins up the three blurry pictures that show the figure of the flying man. All looking kind of like the infamous Bigfoot sighting photos, which is fair enough since he's pretty much a cryptid, a hushed rumor spiraling across the city. 

"I want to focus on finding him."

2.

"Here's your Iced Americanos," Chan says in lieu of greeting as he comes into the office, at this point it may as well be Chan's office even though he has a desk of his own out in the newsroom bullpen. But he spends more time in here with them since he took Mr. Kang making Jeongin and Jisung his mentors as law, practically following them around like a puppy. Not that Jeongin is actually complaining because Chan does a lot to help them out. 

Their office space has become a lot more organized from the chaos it once was, thanks to him. He puts in the work of doing the not so desirable things, runs errands when they need it, and helps with research. 

Besides, it's better than letting the others bully the poor guy the way they hazed Jeongin and Jisung back when they were interns. Realistically, he figures it's part of the job, the dues that have to be paid and all that. But in the month since he started, well, it's clear that Chan seems to be eager to help out with every little thing. Something their more jaded colleagues would definitely take advantage of. 

And it's stupid that Jeongin even cares so much since Chan is a man that can take care of himself. Hell, the guy is the oldest in their little trio by a few years. 

Another reason he can't complain is that Jisung practically imprinted on the guy like a baby duckling, becoming fast friends and claimed him as an honorary team member of their team even if he's not a full fledged journalist. And he's too tired to argue with Jisung on his decisions during the best of times, so he's not about to do it now. Plus, it's not like having Chan around is the worst thing in the world.

And fine, they've become friends. Chan's small town Australian charm had gotten to him. He's nice and funny and a hard worker. And Jeongin actually likes having Chan around even if he'd rather be forced to work the society pages than admit it aloud.

Jeongin frowns, "What took you so long?"

"Oh, uh," Chan starts, placing the cups down and he's even brought some donuts. He nervously adjusts his glasses. "I brought some coffee in for the rest of the staff."

"I'm in love with you," Jisung states, mouth full and crumbs already all over his face, cheeks full. 

Chan laughs, it's high and happy, "Me or the doughnuts?"

Jisung hums, as he grabs another doughnut, he swallows his food. "Can it be both?"

"Alright," Chan says, patting his shoulder halfheartedly, then sits down at the table. "How's the article going?" 

He watches as Chan takes a sip of his own cup, he's pretty sure it's tea of some kind since he claims to not drink coffee. "Nearly done. Just need to wait to hear back from a source."

"Nice," Chan says, and Jeongin knows he means it. "I'm sure you did a good job."

Jeongin ducks his head slightly at the compliment. He swivels to face their cork board, or as Seungmin called it when he saw it the first time: their creepy murder board. 

He sighs. "Now if only we can get a lead on this guy."

There hasn't been much added except a few more blurry pictures that Jisung had hunted through conspiracy message boards to find. There's sticky notes with question marks over these ones, they're not completely sure if it's real sightings. 

Then, they have a screenshot of a video. It turns out their mystery hero had saved a bunch of civilians from a burning building. There's a few names and numbers and quotes they managed to get. By the time they got there though, the man was long gone and nobody had seemed to get a very good look of him, other than he was wearing red and blue.

Another sighting as he stopped a plane from crash landing, bringing it to a safe landing before quickly disappearing again. He even stopped a bank robbery the other day.

Leaving only shaky proof of a red and blue figure, it's become obvious he's decided to wear a costume now. It's hard to see. 

"Chan," he says, glaring at the blurry evidence. "What do you think his deal is?"

Chan blinks, tilting his head as he frowns, "What?"

"His deal. What is he up to?" he asks, frowning. 

"He's clearly saving people," Jisung says, still happily chewing on donuts. "What the hell are you getting at?"

"It's never that simple, Han."

"Maybe it is," Chan says, "Maybe he just wants to use his powers to help others."

That is definitely not the answer he wants to hear. He huffs and takes a big bite of a doughnut as he slumps into his chair. "You're naive if you think there's no ulterior motive," he replies.

Chan sighs. "I'm not naive, I'm just giving him the benefit of doubt. He hasn't done anything except help."

"As far as we know," Jeongin counters, he notices the look of annoyance on Chan's face and he wonders why he's so bothered by his reasonable conclusions.

"Anyways," Jisung says, jumping out of his seat, "I have a theory to posit."

He practically skips over to the cork board and sticks on a sticky note onto it right under the corner section that says who is he? Jeongin sits up, squinting at the drawing on it. 

"He's a bird?" he asks frowning. 

"It looks like a plane," Chan counters. 

Jisung groans, jabbing a finger at his drawing, "It's an alien!" 

Almost immediately Jeongin bursts out into laughter, and Chan chuckles. "Aliens aren't real, Han," he scoffs.

Jisung crosses his arms over his chest. "Okay, then, how do you explain his powers?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "But not aliens."

Chan shifts, chuckling as he fiddles with his glasses, "Yeah, I'm with Jeongin. There's no proof aliens exist."

"There's no proof they don't either!" Jisung counters pointedly.

Chan frowns, pausing for a moment. "Ah, I suppose you're not wrong there either."

"I can't believe he convince you that quickly," Jeongin huffs. 

Chan only grins in response, shrugging sheepishly, "Yeah. He has a point, you know. We don't know what exists out there."

"Hopeless, you're both hopeless," he comments, shaking his head but he can't help the smile forming. 

Since there's been no leads on the Hero aspect, other than a few sightings and blurry proof. Jeongin realizes he has to focus on his other assignments, or whatever story he finds that interests him, because if not he'll definitely get fired. Right now, they're supposed to be interviewing a source that claimed sabotage is happening at the Korea's space station but Chan is God knows where. 

Before they could even leave the Daily Planet lobby, Jisung's phone is ringing and he shouts: "Flying man sighting!"

They rush down to where he was sighted but he's long gone by the time they get there. The only sign that something has happened is the first-responders swarming and the car that looks slightly dented. Jisung is snapping away already.

And Jeongin can't help the disappointment that fills him. He decides to ask around, getting the same statements as he's gotten at every other possible sighting, he caught the car that was falling off the highway bridge due to a collision and saved a kid and the people in the car. 

Jeongin finds said kid happily chatting with a paramedic and what he assumes is his parent clinging to him. At least he hopes so. 

"Hey, are you the kid who got saved?"

The woman gives him a look, frowning, "Who are you?"

"Yang Jeongin," he answers, sitting beside them on the pavement. He takes out his press badge. "I'm a reporter at the Daily Planet. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

The woman looks as if she's about to say no and tell him to fuck off, but the kid beams and excitedly says, "he was wearing a cool costume! He told me his mom made it."

"Oh, really?" he asks, smiling. "It must've been scary."

"It was, but he came out of nowhere and stopped the car," he explains, "He was nice, too. Caught my hat because it flew away and got caught in the tree."

"Wow," he says, "That is very nice of him. Did he tell you anything else?"

The kid frowns clearly focusing and then lights up, "He had a huge S on his suit and he told me that he was a friend. Then, said he had to go."

Jeongin jots it down and smiles. "Well, I'm glad you're safe. I'm sure your mother is too. Is there anything you'd like to say to him?"

"I guess I'd like to say thank him for saving my boy," his mother says. 

Jeongin thanks them for their time and statements, before going to find Jisung. He shows him that there's hand prints on the car that got rescued. And someone managed to get a video, shaky and the man's back is to them for all of it but it's something.

"Superman?" 

Jeongin looks up from where he's typing to see Chan squinting at his screen, where he has the title: SUPERMAN: WHO IS HE?

"It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Jeongin asks, grinning, and okay, he admits it's not the most creative name but it does the job.

"I mean, it's, uh, very straightforward," he responds, looking amused.

Jeongin huffs. "You're making fun of me," he says, squinting as he jabs at him, "I'd like to see you come up with something better, rookie."

Chan makes a face and says, almost mockingly, "My deepest apologies, my senior reporter, Superman is an excellent name for our mystery man."

Jeongin rolls his eyes. "Just because you're older doesn't mean you get to undermine my seniority on the job."

"I would never," Chan says, clearly trying not to laugh. 

And Jeongin scoffs. "Alright. Whatever. Did you look over our source's research?"

Chan's eyes light up as he goes over to his desk, which is really just the corner of Jisung's desk that he rarely uses since he prefers to work from the raggedy couch they have shoved in the corner. He brings back the file and starts excitedly explaining what he's found. 

By the time they have a good chunk of their article written and Chan has taken over on editing Jeongin's atrocious grammar (his words). They even have found names of those they need to ask for further comments, it's already far later than they planned to stay. Or, well, then Chan probably planned to stay since Jeongin often sticks around especially when he's got in the zone. 

"It's late," Jeongin comments, stretching his arms out and yawning. "We should head home."

And then, of course, Jeongin stomach decides to grumble. 

"Ah, maybe some food first?" Chan suggests, amused. 

"It's fine, I'll eat something at home," he lies, he's sure he does have food at home but he doubts he'll eat, more likely to knock out as soon as he gets through the door. 

"My treat," Chan adds, clearly knowing exactly how to get to Jeongin. 

Jeongin shrugs already shutting down his computer and gathering up his belongings. "Should've led with that, Smallville."

Chan sighs, hand over his heart, "I see how it is. You're just using me for free meals."

"Absolutely, better get used to it," he smirks, and puts on his jacket. "So, where we heading?"

"I know a place," is all the answer he gets before he's leading him out of the office. 

They're sitting in a booth of what seems like a hole in the wall diner. Somewhere that Chan seems to be a regular since an older lady immediately starts chattering at him and cooing over him and chiding him for not visiting in awhile, before asking about Jeongin. 

As they wait for the food, Jeongin asks, "You come here often?" And cringes at the question.

Chan laughs, adjusting his glasses, and scratching his neck. "Yeah," he says, "It's close to the university I graduated from."

Jeongin nods. "You went to school here?"

Chan nods. "Yep. All part of my journey to self discovery."

"Connecting to your roots," he comments, remembering it from their first meeting. "And how's that gone?"

"It's a work in progress," he retorts, sounding a bit sad and it makes Jeongin wonder what that means exactly. And how he can help. "I mean, my parents are from here, you know? So it's not like I didn't grow up with Korean culture. It's just..."

"Not the same when you're in another country."

"Exactly, my experiences growing up are, uh, different."

"Well, I can't say I can relate," he says, "I was born and raised in Busan. But I understand what you mean."

Chan smiles, nodding, the server comes over with their food placing the plates down in the center. Jeongin pauses, looking at Chan. "Youngest eats first," he insists, gesturing at him.

Jeongin hesitates because that's not what he's used to, except with Jisung who despite being older doesn't count as such, never seems like it. In their friendship, they never worry about it because they've always been on the same level.

"No, you're older. Go ahead."

"If you don't eat first, then neither of us will. As your hyung, I insist," Chan adds, almost sternly, and it's the first time he's ever pulled the older card on him. 

Jeongin laughs, and gives in, piling food on his plate, he glances up to see Chan looking satisfied. "You weren't kidding about the cultural differences," he jokes. 

"It's just how I was raise. My parents had the youngest eat first," he explains, and only piling up his own plate when Jeongin starts digging in. Then, asks, "So, did you always wanted to be a reporter?"

Jeongin snorts, finishing chewing before saying, "Nope. I actually wanted to be a priest."

He watches for the shocked disbelief or confusion or judgment that usually crosses people's faces when he admits this tidbit. Chan looks surprised but there's no judgment there.

Jeongin laughs at the face he makes. 

"Are you serious? A priest?"

Jeongin hums, nodding. "Yep," he says, "I grew up going to church a lot. Our priest was really involved in helping our neighborhood. So, you know, it seemed like a good choice."

He watches the soft expression that crosses his face. "That's actually adorable," he practically coos.

His nose scrunches up, he feigns annoyance despite how it makes his heart speed up. Instead, he picks up a napkin from beside him and throws it at Chan. 

Chan laughs, throwing his head back as he does, and Jeongin ignores the way his heart continues to speed up. He huffs, rolling his eyes. 

"What changed your mind?" Chan asks, laughter in his voice, and smiling. 

Jeongin shrugged. "I don't know, at one point I decided I wanted to be a singer, but that didn't work out, obviously."

"You sure had a lot of different aspirations," Chan says, clearly amused as he picks at his food. 

"What can I say, I contain multitudes."

"Alright, Walt Whitman," Chan snorts.

"What about you?" 

Chan hums. "Well, I think everyone contains multitudes, you know? That's what being a person is all about."

Jeongin stares for a long moment before scoffing, and fighting a smile at the clear joke because Chan has that slight smirk of his whenever he pulls this kind of smartass response. "That's not what I meant. You're not funny."

"You seem to think I am," he says, "You laugh at my jokes a lot."

"Those were pity laughs," he shoots back, "I feel bad that nobody will laugh at your lame jokes."

Chan laughs at that, eyes crinkling, "Aw, Innie, I didn't think you cared that much."

Jeongin rolls his eyes. 

"Honestly," Chan starts, "No, I didn't always want to be a journalist. But I did love writing and well, I couldn't join sports in school so I joined the school paper."

Jeongin pauses, frowning, "You didn't do sports?" He eyes him suspiciously, not at all checking him out, he's simply observing the evidence in front of him. The proof points to just how very obvious it is that Chan works out. He's got a nice pair of arms on him. 

It seems his gaze is enough to make Chan self-conscious as he slouches in on himself and practically wraps an arm around himself, gently running his hands against his shoulder. It only makes his biceps more obvious.

"Why are you lying to me?"

Chan laughs, "I'm not! I honestly didn't play any sports!"

Jeongin hums, clearly showing his disbelief as he uses his chopsticks to pick up food. "Okay, liar. So, you joined the paper?" he prompts. 

Chan sighs heavily, looking off to the side, a very common act in the last month of knowing each other. "I really am not lying..." He sighs again. "Anyways, I joined the paper. I kind of enjoyed it especially when we got to meet this journalist that came in who wrote all these exposes. I mean, for awhile, I wasn't sure if I should do this as like my career. But well, I always liked the idea of being able to help people through words."

He smiles, and nods. "I get that."

"Yeah," he says, "It's just a nice idea of being able to reach out to others."

"Here's to spreading the truth and helping people," Jeongin says, raising his glass and Chan chuckles but clinks their cups. 

Then, Chan freezes, frowning as he tilts his head, looking distinctly like a confused puppy. He clears his throat. "I, uh, I'm going to the bathroom."

"Oh, alright," Jeongin says as he watches him quickly shoot out of their booth, nearly bumping into the tables and almost knowing over the server with a rushed apology. He snorts but focuses on finishing his meal. 

He's chewing away when he looks out the window and notices the commotion just down the street. He frowns grabbing his phone and going out to see what is happening. 

There's a small group gathered and he notices some of them looking up at the top of the building. "What's going on?" he asks, looking up to see two figures at the ledge. 

"They were going to jump but that superhero guy is up there," a woman tells him, she's got her phone to her ear. 

Jeongin squints up, sure enough he's sees a burst of red that is undoubtedly the red cape that Superman is holding. He feels sick with worry as he watches the scene before him. It looks like Superman is sitting down and talking to the person. 

There's sirens in the distance. 

And as the first responders start getting the ball rolling, the person and Superman are no longer on the ledge, disappearing from view. 

It's minutes later, and Superman is walking through the buildings lobby with the person, angled in a way to protect them from being seen from the phones pointed their way. He's even using his cape as a barrier as best as he can. Until they get to the paramedics, Jeongin hears Superman say, "Take care, I'll see you around."

Before he can leave the woman runs to him giving him a hug, it doesn't last long before the paramedics are trying to break it up. It's a heartwarming scene. 

"Hey, you!" Jeongin shouts before he can even think already moving towards where Superman is. But the man quickly disappears up into the sky in the quick blink of the eye. "Shit."

He looks around to no avail, he already knows he's likely long gone. He shakes his head as he turns to cross the street to find Chan stumbling out of the restaurant's doors. 

"What happened?" He's looking back at where the first responders are still swarming. 

"Superman," he says simply, going back inside, "He saved someone from jumping." 

"Oh, that's good!" Chan says.

"Yeah, I need to go back to the office," he says, grabbing his jacket and bag. Then, looking for the server to wrap up their food.

Chan frowns, "Please tell me you didn't try getting quotes or something."

"What? Is that what you think of me? No, I'm not that insensitive," he says, glaring, "No. I just... I want to rewrite my Superman piece."

"Um, oh, why?" 

Jeongin frowns. "Just... watching him save that girl and seeing how he tried protecting her identity. Well. It just... I need to rewrite it, okay?"

For a long moment, Chan only stares at him. Then, Chan nods abruptly. "Okay, yeah. Then, let's rewrite it until you're happy with it."

"'Does it matter who our local hero is? Perhaps, but the much more important matter is that this man is using his abilities to protect those who need him.'"

Jeongin groans as Seungmin continues to read his article out loud. It had been accepted for print in the paper and Jeongin is starting to regret it for all the cheesy optimistic lines he's written. Originally, his article was more critical of the guy. There's still some level of cynicism and asking questions about who he is, what he is? It's crucial to ask where he came from and how he got those powers, if it's something that they need to worry about. And he asks, why is showing up now? He kept all that in the article.

He'd even pointed out that he seems to be hiding despite doing everything to save the day, always quickly disappearing after he does things.

But Jeongin had wrote that possibly was the point. Their hero did not want the praise and glory and maybe that's exactly why they should thank him because who knows how many people he's saved and nobody knew about. 

"No, it's good," Seungmin snorts, "Just not used to this level of sincerity from you."

Jeongin rolls his eyes, "I can be sincere."

"I can see that now," Seungmin remarks, brows raised as he scans the article again. He looks just about ready to read the entire thing from the start again instead of finishing the last few paragraphs he'd had left. "You did good."

"Don't you have a baseball to write about?"

Seungmin snorts, folding up his paper because of course he decided to mock Jeongin by having the physical form instead of pulling it up on his phone.

Okay, no, Seungmin is definitely just the kind of person who prefers the news from an actual paper, like an old man trapped in a twenty something year old's body. Still, it feels extra mocking at the moment.

"A baseball to write about, yeah, obviously," he says, a shrewd look crossing his face. "They just invented a new one."

Jeongin huffs, then grins, "Yeah, see? You should go write about it and leave me alone."

"I have a question," he says.

Jeongin groans leaning back in his desk chair. "What?"

Seungmin turns to look at the Superman board. "I see you're keeping your murder board—"

"It's not a murder board."

"There's red string, it's a murder board," he says, "Why are you so obsessed with him?"

"He's a mystery," Jeongin says, shrugging, "You know I love a good mystery."

Seungmin hums, but stays quiet for a long moment. He's eyeing the board. "I know Han thinks he's an alien, but what's your theory?"

"Why? So you can steal my story and get out of sports hell?"

"Just because you hate sports doesn't mean it's hell for everyone," he scoffs, kicking his chair. 

"I don't know enough to have a theory yet."

Seungmin hums again. Then, says: "What if he's a government experiment gone rogue?"

It's an interesting thought and would explain where the powers came from, along with why he flees the scene as soon as the people he rescues are safe. 

"What makes you say that?" 

"He started showing up a lot more after that military break in, right?" he asks, although they both know it to be true. "What if the robots weren't the only thing stolen?"

"So, you think that he... What? Escaped in the break in?"

Seungmin shrugs. "Sure. Or got kidnapped and escaped them. Who knows, I just write about baseball." 

Jeongin laughs, shaking his head. "It's certainly a theory. No way to look into it though because the government definitely won't admit it."

"And that's why it's a theory," he says, "I guess you could always track him down."

"What do you think I've been trying to do, hm?" Jeongin asks, rolling his eyes. "It's impossible to even get a good picture of him."

"You better not be talking about me," Jisung says, walking through the door with Chan in tow. "Who am I kidding? None of my pictures are bad."

Seungmin snorts. "That's not what you said when I watched you delete 50 selfies in a row."

"Ouch," Jisung says, hand over his heart and clearly trying not to laugh. "That hurts."

"Why'd you take so many selfies?" Jeongin asks, laughing.

"To send to my one true love," he says solemnly, and then whispers: "JYP."

Seungmin groans, then rolls his eyes, "You know you're too old to debut, right?"

"Stop crushing my dreams. People like you are why the industry is so fucked," Jisung argues, "I should be able to debut, not some random twelve year old."

Chan pats his shoulder when he fake cries over his supposed dreams being crushed. That's when his phone rings, and he continues to distractedly pat him as he answers the call, "Hi, Dr. Choi."

Jeongin perks up, sitting up straight, even leaning forward and fights the urge to rush over to overhear the call. He watches the way Chan's friendly smile wavers, his brows pinching in concern. Even Jisung straightens up to look at him with a frown his dramatic crocodile tears forgotten in an instant.

"Wait, wait, slow down," Chan says, "What's going on?" He hums, rubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, we'll be right over."

He hangs up, then says, "Dr. Choi has some evidence he wants to turn over. He says he wants it out of his hands because he thinks someone's following him."

Jeongin practically jumps out of his seat grabbing his jacket and his essentials. "Let's go then," he says, then to Seungmin, "See you later, hyung. Have fun writing about balls."

"Shut the hell up," he replies, after a beat he adds: "Be careful guys."

"Aw, Seungmin," Jisung says loudly, "You do care!"

"Get out of here," Seungmin replies, scoffing. 

And Jeongin practically shoves Jisung through the door as he offers a dramatic farewell and blowing a kiss.

They rush to the other side of the city, but when they get to Dr. Choi's apartment it's swarming with cops and a paramedics. As they ask around, there's a gurney covered in a white sheet being hauled out towards the ambulance. The sight causing a sinking feeling of guilt and sadness to form in his gut as his brain comes to a conclusion. 

None of the cops want to talk to them, and the neighbors are a little more friendly, saying Choi was found dead in his apartment the door was wide open and his place trashed.

It's ruled as a suicide. 

"No fucking way, he killed himself," Jeongin grumbles as they head back to the office. "He was murdered. What else did he say?"

Chan sighs. "He was erratic and seemed worried something would happen to him."

"Sounds like possible murder to me," Jisung says, frowning. "Now, what? The evidence is probably destroyed by whoever did it."

"So, let me get this straight," Mr. Kang says, looking between the computer screen and the papers that Choi had first handed them. He sighs, leaning forward on his desk. "The Prometheus Project, which is set to launch in 3 days, is being sabotaged. By who and why? You have no idea. But your source is a scientist whose mental health has been questioned and has been fired from said project. The man has committed suicide except, no it's probably murder for being a whistle blower. And you want me to print this?"

"Yes," Jeongin says, nodding, and beside him he hears Jisung and Chan saying the same thing.

Kang sighs and folds his hands together. "Where's the hard facts? Your credible sources? You know I can't print this."

And that's exactly what Jeongin had been afraid of hearing. He clenches his jaw. 

As they leave his office, he's feeling a bit disappointed, though he knows that this is on them for not gathering more concrete proof to back up their claims. 

"What now?" Jisung asks.

"We need physical evidence," Jeongin says, brain whirring as he thinks of how they can do that on such short notice. He supposes he can try calling in favors to see if there was anything left behind at Choi's apartment. 

"Maybe I can call Dr. Oh, see if she'll let us take a look around? Or offer any help?" Chan offers, he's adjusting his glasses and looks distracted.

Jeongin scoffs. "Please, she's not going to be of any help. Chances are she's behind all of this and covering it up."

"Well, we have to try something," Chan insists, and sighs, "I'll go look into it."

"Don't cry when you come up empty," Jeongin calls out as he watches Chan goes off towards their office and he makes a beeline for the elevators.

"Uh, where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he says, he can tell Jisung is on his tail. 

"I'm coming with!"

The thing is, Jeongin has gotten into a lot of situations over the last few years. Sometimes due to his own clumsiness, or at the hands of his idiotic friends when he's off the clock. But usually it's because of the job and through his own fault, like the time he’d nearly got caught in the cross-hairs of a corrupted cop back when he was a lowly rookie trying to chase down a story to get a leg up. Or the time he and Jisung got locked in the private elevator when they were snooping around Hwang Industries. There was even that time in Gotham, when he got kidnapped while trying to score an interview with Lee Minho, notoriously known recluse that doesn't do press. They ended up being hostage buddies, yet he never did end up getting that interview.

That’s just the price of being an investigative journalist. You investigate and often end up in not so great situations, it's all part of the game.

Right now, he and Jisung had been caught sneaking around by Oh and her lackeys, who tied them back to back in the middle of the room. Their phones and cameras sat to a table a couple of feet away from them.

"If we die," Jisung starts.

"We'll be fine," Jeongin says, though he's not sure he believes it himself, trying his best to wriggle out of the ropes tied around their hands.

"You know, you're my best friend," he continues, sounding a little choked up, clearly anxious that this will be it. "I'm glad we ended up paired together in that class. And that you stuck with me over the years. I love you, man."

Jeongin stops fidgeting for a moment and smiles, "We're a package deal, hyung. Of course, I was going to stick with you."

"Aw, you called me hyung!"

"Yeah, yeah, it's not a big deal," he says, "I love you too, you know."

"Yeah, I know. It's nice to hear it though."

"Okay," Jeongin says, sighing, "Sorry I got you in a life threatening situation. Again."

Jisung laughs, he can feel his shoulders shaking causing their chairs to move. "Well, at least you keep life interesting."

"Seriously, you didn't have to follow me," he says, "But I appreciate it."

"Are you kidding? I'd follow you anywhere, dude." He can practically hear the grin in his voice. "Package deal."

Jeongin can't help the smile that forms.

"Well, isn't this heartwarming," Oh says, her tone sarcastic, as she walks closer to them. She sighs, and waves a thumb drive, "I assume this is what you're after? Choi seemed very protective of it."

She tosses it onto the table. 

Jeongin's jaw clenches as he glares at her, she circles around them. "Our coworkers know where we are," he bluffs, "The police will be coming soon."

Oh hums, "I doubt that. I have someone watching your office and seems like business as usual."

Jeongin swallows hard and racks his brain to figure out how to stall, or get them out of here. 

"By the time they do get worried, it'll be far too late," Oh says, reaching a hand out to pinch Jeongin's cheek. "You and your friend here will be burned to a crisp. At least, you'll go together."

"Somebody will find out the truth!"

Oh sighs, moving away from them. "And it'll be too late for that too." She's moving over to where it looks like there's a giant vats of chemicals, she turns a handle and the liquid flows out onto the floor. Then, moves over, "It's a shame the two of you didn't see the sign. We had to evacuate because of a chemical leak but the two of you didn't know, and it's such a shame that these two chemicals combining are so flammable."

She's walking over to another vat and lets it flow as well. Then, she dusts her hands off. She sighs as she walks away from it. 

"Such a pity," she says, frowning at him. "Such bright young men now dead. I suppose that's what you get for not minding your business."

She shrugs and leaves without another word, her laugh echoing as she does.

"Fuck," Jeongin grumbles as he attempts to pull against the ropes. He had gotten it slightly loose early and he can get it off if he tries hard enough. "How long do you think we have?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? I'm a photojournalist not a fucking scientist!" Jisung snaps, he's also moving around trying to get out of the ropes. He groans as his hands knock into Jeongin's and he says, "Sorry for snapping. Just... fuck."

"I really wish we told Chan what we were doing," he grumbles, as he moves his hand and tries to untie Jisung's ropes. He really wishes for a lot of things right now. "Or even Seungmin, he'd call the cops by now."

Jisung groans again. "Can't wait for the lectures those two will give us." Then, loudly he shouts: "Help! Help!"

Jeongin flinches at the scream. He huffs. "Well, if we die, we won't get lectured."

The ropes loosen and he sighs in relief, as he moves quickly to untie his legs. There's alarms blaring somewhere in the distance as smoke fills the room. He rushes to the table to grab the drive and everything else. 

A cool breeze comes through, and then a figure appears. Jeongin stills before the figure says, "I'm here to help."

Sure enough the figure comes into view and it's Superman in all his blue and red glory. He can clearly see the S on his chest for the first time. 

"Holy shit," Jisung says.

"Hang on," Superman says, and Jeongin doesn't have a moment to register anything. Next thing he knows, the three of them are standing outside far away from the building, the one that's now engulfed in flames.

Superman has his back turned on them, looking at the building, as he takes several steps away from them.

"Oh, it's really you," Jeongin says.

Superman's head tilts slightly, his hair windswept and curling ever so slightly. Jeongin can't see his face though, just the edges of it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks to you," he replies, taking in the sight of Superman. "How'd you know we were—"

"Heard you calling for help," he replies, then clears his throat. Looking away to the distance. "Duty calls," he says and is shooting up towards the sky. 

Jisung is grabbing his camera from Jeongin's grip, quickly snapping away as Superman goes higher and higher and then disappears in a blink. 

Jeongin lets out a laugh as the reality sinks in. 

One of the pictures Jisung took is clear, it almost looks like Superman had been posing for him. It's at an angle that doesn't exactly show his face but the S on his chest is on full display, and it's much better than a lot of the other photos going around of the guy. 

"An expose leading to arrests and the first clear picture of Superman?" Seungmin asks, "Way to make the rest of us look bad. Thought we were a team at this paper."

Jeongin smirks, "Somebody's gotta be the MVP here."

"Yeah, we're just doing our part, you gotta keep up," Jisung adds.

Seungmin snorts and rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say."

"So, what was he like?" Ryujin asks suddenly, she frowns down at the picture on display. 

"We only saw him for a minute," Jeongin explains, shaking his head. 

"He was incredible though," Jisung adds, and Chan snorts from beside him. "Very handsome too. Can't believe we actually met him."

"It was barely a meeting," Jeongin comments. "And you barely saw his face."

"Doesn't matter, I know a handsome guy when I see one," Jisung insists. 

Chan clears his throat, and Ryujin laughs as she shakes her head. 

"Well, I guess I wouldn't be surprise," Ryujin comments, tilting her head as she looks at the picture. "Maybe we can get a sketch artist to draw his face from memory."

"Nah, it's all a blur," Jeongin comments, he's been thinking about it and he doesn't trust himself to fully remember any details from the few seconds he did get a clear look of his face. "Given we almost died and all."

"Yeah, it's a good thing you didn't tag along, hyung," Jisung says, elbowing Chan, "I know how easily scared you get. Probably would've started confessing all your sins."

"What sins?" Ryunjin scoffs, "Like how he made the printer worse when he tried to fix it."

"Or that he made everyone friendship bracelets but lost them when he tripped over his own feet?" Seungmin adds.

Jeongin snorts.

And Chan lets out a heavy sigh, tilting his head. "Seriously, guys?"

"C'mon, leave him alone," Jeongin defends.

Chan gives him a relieved smile. "Thanks—"

"It's not his fault, he's such a boy scout," he finishes with a laugh as Chan's face twists into a disappointed one as he sighs again. The other's laughing along. 

Later, when all the congratulations are out of the way, Jeongin is in their office he's moving around some of the pictures on the cork board. He pins the picture Jisung took right in the center of the board and continues rearranging a few of them. And then under the list of things they know about him he adds: super hearing???

This is where Chan finds him, he's leaning against the desk and staring at the board with a frown. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" Chan asks, moving to stand beside him, leaning against the desk with him, shoulder to shoulder.

Jeongin holds out his hand and makes a grabby motion. "Where's my penny?"

Chan laughs, and gives him a high five instead, then bumps their shoulders. "Seriously, what's on your mind, Innie?"

Jeongin purses his lips as he turns back to look at their board. He sighs rubbing his hands over his face. "Do you think I can find him?"

Chan is quiet for several moments, long enough for Jeongin to move his hands and look over at him with a frown. He's staring at the board with a distant look, he looks conflicted.

"Chan?" he prompts.

Chan shakes his head, and asks, "You're serious about finding him?"

"Yeah, of course," he answers, "This is... He's the story of a lifetime, getting an exclusive could make my career."

Chan shifts slightly, tilting his head and finally looking at him. "What if he just doesn't want to be found?"

"That's exactly why he should be found."

Chan hums, brows furrowing as he looks away from him, clearly lost in thought. 

"Are you going to help me with this still?" he asks, after they've fallen into silence for a few long moments. "Or is this your way of saying you won't?"

Chan's face clears up, he blinks and makes a face, turning to look at him. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm just worried it's a lost cause, you know?" he explains, sighing, "What if chasing him down just gets you in trouble, or worse, you get hurt?"

Jeongin smiles as what Chan's saying becomes clear. He's worried and it's sweet, he bumps their shoulders together, "I've been chasing stories for a few years. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Chan says, shaking his head. "It still makes me worried. You're my friend."

And Jeongin sighs, "Well, you know how you can make sure I don't get into too much trouble chasing down Superman?"

"And how's that?"

Jeongin grins. "You stick around and help me find him."

Chan laughs at that, looking at him with amusement and nods. "Uh, yeah, good point."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Are you helping me?" Jeongin asks, grinning, and feeling almost hopeful. He won't lie, he wants Chan to stick around, he knows they'll still work together even without the Superman story, but it'll be different.

"We are a team, aren't we? Jisung said so," Chan replies, and when Jeongin only looks at him. He adds, almost softly: "Of course, I'll try to help you find him."

"Okay, good," Jeongin grins, feeling satisfied with that answer. "I might even let you be in the byline if you do a good enough job."