Work Text:
azul learned early on that the mind left fingerprints.
blood could be washed off, weopons could be buried, alibis could be forged, but guilt stains the eyes. in his years of solving mysteries, the eyes are the mirror of the soul and with every hand tremor or short breaths, it opened up the path to the truth. however this new string of murders made no sense-none of the suspects he gathered seemed to be the murderer nor the evidence seems to correlate. they were all sloppy and he often ended up in circles. azul’s finger drum the table-one could see the smoke coming out of his head or hear the gears turning inside his brain.
another dead body, another question added to the case. frustration consumed azul as he looks over the blue prints. no sense of hints; fingerprints, camera sightings, or dna, no pattern, and no leads… it was as if the murder meticulously planned every single thing. it was perfect. too perfect. as much as he wants to deny, this case was getting to him in his personal life. it gnawed at him through sleepless nights, hot coffee, and the sense that someone was watching him work. azul lets out an exhale, trying to steady himself.
he would find the murderer. he always did. he has to.
“are you still up late?” a hum fills through the tense silence. azul weakly smiles, recognizing the voice.
“i thought i should look over the clues before i sleep,” he mutters, packing up the papers in a neatly fashion. at least azul wasn’t alone on this case, he had jamil-his partner and lover. jamil was someone he admired… he was sharp, quiet, always taking notes in his mind. he was beautiful, he carried such dignity that made azul fall head over heels for him. he was the one who would always help azul whenever he’s spiraling and the golden ring flashing between the candles proved that love.
jamil sighs, his hand going through his face as he sets down a cup of hot coffee-a hint of bitterness coaxes his nose. “i told you many times to stop overworking yourself,” jamil shakes his head, a slight tut leaving his lips. jamil was the one to carry the weight of responsibility in this relationship.
“i promise i’ll rest,” azul groans, rubbing his eyes. “it’s just that this specific murderer is always one step ahead of me…it’s…” he didn’t want to admit it to jamil but, “…getting to me…”
jamil glances at azul, his gaze stays on him for a long. a little bit amused… a little bit knowing.
“well i’m sure you’ll be able to find him sooner or later,” jamil reassures, watching azul take a sip from the coffee. “they’ll probably mess up in later accidents…but for now you’re at home so it’s time for you to put it aside.”
“fine…” azul reluctantly mumbles. he stands up, holding his robes tighter as jamil leads him to bed.
“the longer this case remains unsolved, the more wrinkles will grow on my face,” azul lays on his bed, watching the ceiling as if there was an equation to it.
“well let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” jamil grins before he turns off the light.
as jamil’s leather shoes reached the workplace the next day, he comes to found that the walls were bombarded with photographs… bodies were posed with eerie precision, angles too perfect to be coincidence and sticky notes that seemed to be scribbled on with desperation for any semblance. azul-red eyed and messy hair-stood there, analyzing the evidence before him. it was rare for azul to be so worked up. someone usually with a poise look and a confident demeanor slowly succumbing to this made the tips of jamil’s lips stretch.
“have you found anything?” jamil asked, scooting next to him.
“no…this killer is messing with this agency! us! me!” he emphasized the last part. the tip of azul’s tongue was laced with stress. every word out of him trembled as if he was ashamed of himself. “this killer is so well articulated that he always leads me to some random conclusion that doesn’t make sense!” azul calls out at the points he wrote down. “it’s like the killer isn’t even human!”
exhaustion pulls azul’s eyes… last night, he couldn’t get a proper sleep because he was too busy tossing and turning. the thought of his reputation crumbling down killed him. he worked so hard to maintain this image only for this killer to take it all away! this was humiliating at best…
jamil reached up and gently rubbed the tension off of azul’s shoulders. “don’t worry… here i gathered some evidence for you…” his hands slid a packet full of papers… “i hope this could help you,” jamil smiles, leaning down to kiss azul on the forehead. “now i have to go organize some files,” he looks back and waves goodbye before the silhouette vanishes into darkness.
as soon as azul had received the packet, he hesitated. despite how smart jamil is, he was still a trainee-inexperienced and unknowing about this agency. however azul held onto desperation stronger than before, his fingers hesitated but he opened the paper. it felt like uncovering an ancient tomb, the papers felt heavier as if it carried forbidden secrets. azul slowly lets out a small breath, skimming through the papers.
maps. times. victim movements.
his breath catches.
every timeline fits too perfectly—too clean, too aligned with details only the murderer and the lead detective should know. azul flips through faster, panic threading into his pulse. jamil shouldn’t have known these things… he’s way below the ranks… only azul and a few other detectives should have known… unless…
the room suddenly felt so much smaller.
his mind replays the night before—jamil’s steady voice, the gentle scolding, the knowing look, the coffee set down so carefully beside him. a hum of realization coils in azul’s stomach, cold and sinking.
the mind leaves fingerprints.
and suddenly, he sees them everywhere.
the evidence that disappeared in azul’s desks. the contradictions that redirected him. the comfort that always came right after failure. always after a death.
he sat in his office, staring at jamil’s academy file on his screen. the smiling ID photo. the recorded scores. the background checks that said safe, harmless, clean.
the killer had been pacing him.
playing with him.
loving him.
that bastard….
that night, jamil came home a little later than usual.
azul sits there, his hands folded against his lap. he heard the door click open and out came the brown haired man. “hmm how’s your investigation so far,” jamil throws out his usual question, his hand holding two cups of coffee.
“jamil…” on the coffee table laid the same packet that jamil gave except that jamil’s named was circled with red ink-the truth revealed. “tell me i’m wrong…”
jamil exhales then he smiles.
not the loving or gentle nor the annoyed one but the real one.
“so… you figured it out,” jamil sets down the coffee.
azul’s voice trembles, but he doesn’t look away. “how could you… we’re married?” he choked. “we exchanged vows…”
“and I broke every single one except loving you…”
silence stretches between them, heavy and aching.
jamil shouldn’t have loved azul… even he knew that… it was just a faulty mistake that arose when jamil had debuted his killing game.
the first time jamil saw azul across a crime scene, he chose him as his next victim. azul was too sleazy, too brilliant, surely sooner or later he would finally figure it out. his sharp eyes didn’t skim any evidence; they devoured it. he noticed what others missed and that was what makes him dangerous.
“he’ll be the hardest to erase,” jamil thought which means the most satisfying.
it was never supposed to be personal. jamil inserted himself in azul’s orbit with careful patience: late-night file runs, coffee deliveries, quiet rides home in the rain. he knew this man like the back of his hand, he studied him. he learned azul’s habits, his stress tells, the way his hands shook after a long shift, learned the locks on his apartment, the angle of his bedroom window, or how long it took for his drink to go untouched.
everything necessary for a perfect murder to get away with.
except jamil made a mistake.
he fell in love.
somewhere along those nights with teasing exchanges and loving glances, jamil’s heart ached for azul. what was supposed to be such a simple plan turned into something more complicated… more grander… and jamil both hated and loved that.
each murder was a sacrifice to azul. each blood he killed was meant to suffice the spot where azul was supposed to lay. sometimes he would wonder if he should slip poison in his drink or stab a knife into his stomach but he never did. instead azul became the center of everything—his comfort, his alibi, his interest. every kill was like a sickening love letter, asking azul to basically chase him down. jamil loved watching him suffer over the unsolvable case…hated it, too… it was thrilling. the thought of being caught by him send shivers down his spine. the word between love and obsession slowly morphed into something horrifying… and then azul had proposed to jamil. that changed everything.
the ring reflected off jamil’s face-uncertain, scared, yet always calculating. that night he had came back with a feeling he had never known how to name. for the first time in his life, something inside him hesitated—not out of fear of being caught, but out of fear of losing something real. he told himself he would stop after one last kill. then another. then one more, just to keep the narrative alive. the lie stretched longer than the vow.
now, in the quiet of their living room, that lie finally collapsed.
“you were supposed to die,” jamil says softly, almost apologetically. “from the very beginning but i love you,” jamil’s pupils dilate. “i love you so much…” his fingers rubs against azul’s cheeks like he was painting a masterpiece. the warm touches of jamil made azul shiver. who knew this hand was stained with red?
he leans in closer, the warm breath causes azul to shrink. azul’s heart thundered in his chest, thoughts swirling around him… his ego was bruised, his heart was broken, and for the first time, azul didn’t mouth i love you back because at that moment, they both knew that this love was doomed.