Chapter Text
The clacking of Ryu Jaekwan’s keyboard is a familiar albeit comforting background noise at this point. It’s one of the few stable parts in his life Choi can reliably count on. That, as well as the shitty coffee the bureau provides.
He sighs, lifting his cup—lukewarm at best—to his mouth to take a sip. At least it’s not burning his tongue this time; small mercies, he supposes, suppressing a grimace at the taste washing down his throat. Could always be worse.
Speaking of worse, though—or maybe better?—his gaze inadvertently wanders to the semi-new addition to their small team, also clicking and clacking away on his keyboard, deep in thought.
Kim Soleum looks better than usual, by which Choi means he looks healthier. The dark circles beneath his eyes are mostly gone, his hair a little neater than it had been the past few days, which gives him a put-together, competent look. Sure, Kim Soleum is competent but with his nerdy glasses—fake, by the way, Choi had checked—and the oversized jumper, he doesn’t always look the part.
“Please stop slacking off, sunbae,” Ryu Jaekwan admonishes him, and Choi’s attention snaps back to him, meeting his gaze. Choi rolls his eyes in a playful manner, ignoring the way Ryu Jaekwan furrows his eyebrows in return.
“I’m not slacking off, I’m just taking a break,” Choi counters, which is true, technically. It’s just paperwork, anyway, and paperwork he’s done a million times already at that. He could probably do it with his eyes closed if he wanted to. He recognises that paperwork is a necessary evil but isn’t the bureau pushing it a bit? “Speaking of breaks, what should we get for lunch, Soleum-ah?”
He swivels around in his chair to face their junior again, expectantly staring at Kim Soleum who doesn’t even raise his head to shrug. If there’s one thing to be said about Kim Soleum, it’s that he truly doesn’t slack off, not even from the most menial of tasks.
“It’s-” Ryu Jaekwan checks his watch- “9:34 AM. You shouldn’t be thinking about lunch already.”
Choi waves his hand. “Well, you see, if we decide now, we don’t need to dither when we go later. So, Soleum-ah, what’re you thinking?” At Ryu Jaekwan’s disapproving stare, he sighs and adds, “let’s just order something in at least then. No need to go out, I suppose.” Life really is all about compromises, it seems. The lengths he’s willing to go for his juniors, really. “Bibimbap? Ramyeon? Oh, what about those tteokbokki we had the other day? Those were pretty tasty, no?” He traces the rim of his cup with his finger, watching Kim Soleum for any kind of reaction.
None.
Tilting his head and resting his chin on the ball of his hand, Choi flicks the cap of his pen, watching it slide across his less-than-neat desk, stacked to the brim with papers he’s yet to read and reports he’s supposed to fill out. Some of them bear annotation marks, most of them from Ryu Jaekwan, though Choi’s doodles embellish at least a few.
It’s not unusual for Kim Soleum to get absorbed in his work but he at least acknowledges his seniors most of the time. This is… a bit unusual. “Soleum-ah?” Choi tries again. Nothing. “Kim Soleum.”
“Hm?” This time, Kim Soleum at least raises his head, briefly locking eyes with Choi before they slide back down to the report he’s working on. Then, they flit back up, drilling into Choi’s. “I’m sorry, I was a bit preoccupied. Did you need something, sunbae?” He’s as respectful as ever, pushing his glasses up his nose.
Choi dons his nicest smile. “Yeah, I wanted to know what you wanted to order in for lunch. Jaekwan-ah and I have been thinking about bibimbap, maybe?” He ignores the look Ryu Jaekwan sends him in favour of scrutinising Kim Soleum more closely.
His junior heaves a muted sigh. So far, so good.
“Tteokbokki sounds good,” he says at last and, without another word, he’s turned towards his computer again. Choi exchanges a glance with Ryu Jaekwan though neither of them says anything.
Okay… slightly strange but then again, they’ve just come back from a field mission that had left both Ryu Jaekwan and Kim Soleum a little rattled so maybe he’s still processing that. Choi can’t blame him—this job isn’t easy on the nerves. “Tteokbokki it is, then,” Choi repeats, clapping his hands together. “Our hoobae has spoken.” Even his attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t do much. Kim Soleum simply keeps on working and Ryu Jaekwan only gives him another puzzled look before he turns back to his own documents.
An idea starts to take shape in Choi’s mind—unconventional and unprofessional and not something that Ryu Jaekwan would approve of, but suddenly there’s something Choi wants to test. He slaps his hands on his desk, crumpling a few of his papers in the process, and stands up, a little too quickly.
The loud noise has the intended effect of catching Kim Soleum’s (and unfortunately also Ryu Jaekwan’s) attention, and Choi gives him a smile, tilting his head. “Just got another request to deal with a small might-be-disaster.” He winks at Kim Soleum who answers with a frown. “Should be a two-man-job at most. How about it, Grapes-ie? You up for the task?”
“I can do it,” Ryu Jaekwan proclaims, already rising from his chair but Choi waves his hand at him. He’s still the most senior member of their team—he’s the one who makes the rules around here.
“Nah, it’s fine.” In a few short strides, Choi has crossed the room to stand next to Kim Soleum, resting a hand on his shoulder. He can feel the tense muscles beneath the jacket and does his best not to tighten his grip. Instead, he lets go a moment later and lightly claps his shoulder. “I’m sure Grapes-ie will appreciate the opportunity to stretch his legs, no?” He directs his smile down at his junior.
Kim Soleum looks back up at him with an unreadable expression, his lips ever so slightly downturned. “Of course, Agent Choi,” he acquiesces at last. He always does. Smart boy.
“Then let’s not waste any more time. Chop chop, Agent Grapes. Wouldn’t want to be late for lunch break.” He takes a step back as Agent Grapes gets up and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, neatly pulling it over his dress shirt. He zips it up to the top until only his white collar peeks out from beneath it.
In the meantime, Choi exchanges another look with Ryu Jaekwan who subtly shakes his head at him. Choi, once again, only shrugs in response. Ryu Jaekwan has never much approved of Choi’s methods anyway but as long as they deliver results… well. Who can blame him, really?
“So where are we going?” Kim Soleum asks on the way out of the office. Another quirk of his, that curiosity, but Choi supposes it’s part of the reason why he’s been able to stay alive until now.
“Just a small disaster,” Choi answers, keeping it deliberately vague. If his assumption is correct… “Might not even be one. A civilian phoned it in and management sent us to check it out. No need to worry about it, we’ll be back before lunch break.” Probably.
It’s foggy outside, which isn’t especially uncommon for this time of the year. The chilly mist envelops them as soon as they step out, coming down on them like an unfortunately damp blanket. Kim Soleum sighs and reaches up to wipe his glasses, not that it does much.
“If they’re not even sure it’s a disaster, wouldn’t it be best to wait and see?” Kim Soleum quickens his step to keep up with Choi. “Instead of wasting our time to check out a lead that might not even be real.”
Plastering his old-familiar smile on his face, Choi turns his head. “We’re civil servants, Agent Grapes. That’s our job.” Which Kim Soleum knows. He might be a rookie but he still knows that. Should know that.
Kim Soleum doesn’t reciprocate the smile. “I’m aware of that, Agent Choi.”
“If you know, then why did you ask?” There are barely any people outside as Choi leads them to bicycle-shed, digging his keys out of his pocket. The little tortoise charm—a gift from their former team leader—dangles listlessly, looking more washed out than usual.
“Because it’s not very efficient, is it?” Kim Soleum stops somewhere behind him as he slots the key into the lock. He doesn’t turn it, though. At least not immediately. Instead, he tilts his head to watch Kim Soleum over his shoulder.
The neatly combed hair, the ironed shirt, both now weighed down by the humidity. Kim Soleum clasps his hands behind his back as Choi turns around to face him fully. “You look well,” he notes, “I was worried you might not be getting enough sleep after everything that happened on Monday. You seem like the type to bottle everything up instead of talking to us about it.” He raises a questioning eyebrow.
Kim Soleum smiles, a little too wide, a little too hollow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Agent Choi.” It doesn’t reach his eyes.
Choi smiles back, all teeth. It’s most curious indeed.
There’s no chance in hell this is Kim Soleum.