Chapter Text
Gang Yong used to think loan sharks and detectives could never get along. Now, somehow, he finds himself tolerating Gwang Mu. ‘Tolerating’ might be generous.
They work together when necessary, information for favors, favors for information. Strictly professional. It feels ridiculous calling anything about Gwang Mu professional, but Gang Yong isn’t ungrateful. The man is useful.
Still, he doesn’t understand him. Gwang Mu is friendly. Way too friendly. He acts familiar in a way that crawls under Gang Yong’s skin.
He always shows up uninvited, waiting outside the station like he has nowhere else to be. At this point, no one is surprised when he arrives at the station with coffee.
But today, he couldn’t find him. Gang Yong lingers outside the station longer than necessary, eyes scanning the street before he could stop himself.
His team calls out, inviting him to dinner. He shakes his head. “My daughter is waiting for me,” he says.
That wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the real reason either. Mirae has a nanny. He could go if he wanted to. As team leader, he’s usually the one hosting these dinners. He rarely skips. But today, he does.
“That’s strange,” Minho says. Gang Yong glances at him. “What is?”
“I don’t see Mr. Moon anywhere.” Minho looks around. “He usually shows up around this time.”
“Maybe he’s busy.”
Minho hums. “Did you two fight?”
“What?”
“I mean… you’re not exactly friends.”
“We didn’t fight. I’m leaving.”
On the drive home, he fights the urge to call him. Gwang Mu is an adult. He has his own business, his own problems. It’s normal for him not to show up. By the time he gets home, he’s already annoyed with himself.
The door barely opens before a small body crashes into him. “Daddy, welcome!” Mirae beams up at him, and just like that, the tension in his chest disappears. He lifts her easily. “How was school?”
“Fine! Come help me with my homework.”
“Alright.”
He sets her down, slipping off his shoes. His phone pings. He checks it immediately. Not him. He exhales quietly and sets the phone aside.
Mirae tilts her head, watching him. She’s far too perceptive for a seven-year-old. “What's wrong ?” she asks. Gang Yong forces a small smile. He always tries to leave work and everything else outside this house. “Nothing. Let’s see your homework.” She accepts the answer, turning back to her notebook, pencil already moving. Halfway through guiding her through a problem, he suddenly remembered something.
“Where’s the nanny?”
“She left earlier,” Mirae says, not even looking up, focused on her drawing.
Gang Yong’s expression tightens. This isn’t the first time her nanny has left her alone earlier than their agreed-upon time. He leans back slightly, watching his daughter, who was completely at ease, as if being left alone is normal.
It’s been like this for a while now. Ever since his wife left, it’s just been the two of them. Finding someone reliable to help has been really difficult. And with the holidays coming up, it’s only going to get worse. There’s no one he trusts enough to look after her.
Gang Yong exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face before straightening. “We’ll figure it out,” he mutters, more to himself than to her. Mirae hums, unconcerned, already moving on to the next drawing. His phone lights up again on the table. This time, he doesn’t reach for it immediately. But he notices.
************
Gwang Mu has been in a lot of worse situations, but this was one of the annoying ones. The cell is small, the bench is very uncomfortable, and the guy across from him won’t stop snoring. He leans his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it personally offended him. This is annoying. It wasn’t even his fault. Maybe a little, but the debtor overreacted. Calling the police over that? Ridiculous.
He clicks his tongue and shifts, fishing his phone out when the officer finally lets him make a call. There are a lot of people he could contact. People who owe him favors, but would anyone come to bail him out quickly? He doesn’t want to spend his entire week in a cell.
There was only one person he could call that will get him out quickly, but that guy is a little bit…. His thumb hovers for a second before he sighs and taps the screen. Detective Gang Yong. He almost hangs up before the call connects.
“Hello?” Too late. Gwang Mu sits up straighter without meaning to. “Hey! So, funny story—”
There’s a pause on the other end. Not long, but long enough for him to feel it. “I got arrested,” he says quickly. “It’s not a big deal. Some idiot couldn’t handle a normal conversation and called the police. I didn’t even do anything serious, I swear.”
More excruciating Silence. Gwang Mu winces. Right. Of course. Gang Yong is a detective. Someone who believes in the law and has a strong sense of morals, there’s no way he would embarrass himself by coming to bail a ‘loan shark’.
“I know how it sounds,” he adds, a little faster now. “But it’s really not my fault this time. Well, mostly not. Anyway, I just need someone to—”
“Hold on, I'm on my way,” Gang Yong says. Gwang Mu blinks. “…That’s it?”
This was unlike him; normally, he’d hang up the phone or lecture him for hours. “I said I’ll come”. The line goes dead. Gwang Mu stares at his phone. What was that?
By the time he’s out, he’s already bracing himself. For the lecture he’s about to receive from Gang Yong. And that quiet disappointment look that Gang Yong does so well. He spots him immediately. Standing outside the station, arms crossed and with an unreadable expression. Yeah, this is going to be bad.
Gwang Mu walks up to him, already talking. “Okay, listen before you say anything, it wasn’t like that. The guy owed money, I just went to talk, and he started yelling first—” Gang Yong doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t react either, he just stared at him blankly.
Gwang Mu slows, words tripping over themselves. “…I didn’t even touch him,” he adds, weaker this time. “So technically, I didn’t do anything illegal.” Still nothing. He must be really angry at him.
Gwang Mu straightens slightly, the defensiveness creeping in now. “Look, I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t necessary,” he mutters. “I know you don’t like this kind of thing.” Gang Yong exhales, running his hands through his hair.
“Can’t you try staying out of trouble?”
“I just told you, it wasn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“…Then why does it feel like you are blaming me?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Gang Yong shoves his hands into his pockets, gaze shifting away like the ground suddenly got interesting. “Then what did you mean?” he was met with silence and a quiet exhale. Gwang Mu lets out a short, humorless laugh, already stepping back.
“Right. Got it.” He turns, waving a hand dismissively.
“Sorry for bothering you this early. I’ll stay out of your way from now on.” He barely makes it two steps.
“Wait.” Gwang Mu pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. “I’ll drop you off.”
“Huh?”
“It’s hard to find a taxi here,” Gang Yong says, as if this is a reasonable continuation of the conversation. “And it’s barely seven in the morning.” Gwang Mu just stares at him.
Wasn’t he the one being cold a second ago? He huffed, shaking his head as he turned back. It was unbelievable but not surprising. In the few months he’s known him, Gwang Mu has learned one thing about Gang Yong: He runs hot and cold. Mostly cold. And somehow, Gwang Mu still keeps coming back anyway.
“Fine,” he says at last, slipping his hands into his pockets. “But if you’re planning to lecture me in the car, I’m getting out halfway.” Gang Yong doesn’t even look at him. “Get in.” Yeah. Definitely cold.
**************
The car is too quiet. Gang Yong notices it almost immediately, but he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Gwang Mu sits in the passenger seat, turned slightly toward the window, like he’s already halfway gone. Too relaxed. Like he didn’t just spend the night in a cell.
Gang Yong grips the steering wheel a little tighter. He should say something. He wants to say something. You didn’t show up. I thought something had happened. I was worried. The words line up neatly in his head. And then—
“What you’re doing,” he starts, “you should be more careful.”
He exhaled internally. That’s not what he meant. Beside him, Gwang Mu doesn’t move. “Careful?”
“It keeps happening,” Gang Yong adds, eyes still on the road. “Situations like this,”
“Right,” Gwang Mu says quietly. Gang Yong exhales.
He said the wrong thing again.
“I’m saying—” he tries, adjusting his grip on the wheel, “this kind of work. It’s not exactly stable.”
The awkward silence should have been his cue to shut up, but he continued anyway.
“You could look for something else,” he says. “There are better jobs than this.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, he knew he was too blunt. It was too late to take back what he said. Gwang Mu lets out a small breath, almost a laugh, but not really a laugh.
“Better jobs,” he repeats. Gang Yong finally glances at him. Gwang Mu is still looking out the window. He didn’t look annoyed, nor angry; he just looked distant. “I didn’t realize you still thought that,” he said.
Gang Yong gripped the steering wheel tighter. “That’s not—”
“It’s fine,” Gwang Mu cuts in. “It’s not exactly respectable work. I get it.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Gwang Mu hums, like he’s heard that before. “Then what did you mean?”
Gang Yong opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “I meant it’s dangerous.” The words come out flat. Stripped of everything he was trying to say. Gwang Mu nods once, slowly. “Yeah,” he says. “It is.” Gang Yong’s grip tightens on the wheel again.
“I’m saying you don’t have to keep doing it,” he adds, the words coming out sharper now. “There are other options.” There’s a pause. Then Gwang Mu finally turns his head slightly.
“Why should i stop doing my job?” he asks. And Gang Yong doesn’t answer fast enough. Because the real answer sits heavy in his chest; Because I don’t like the idea of something happening to you. Because you didn’t show up and I thought— But none of that makes it out.
“Because it’s not a real job,” he says instead.
The moment the words leave his mouth, he felt wrong.
“There are other jobs,” he continues, like digging himself deeper might somehow fix it, “ones that actually make you look responsible. Not… this. Not something that makes you act like a pretend thug and—”
He cut himself off too late, the damage had already being done. He had finally crossed the line, he knows he should apologize. Gwang Mu looks at him fully now. And that’s worse. Because he didn’t look angry.
“Oh,” Gwang Mu says. The car slows slightly as Gwang Mu reaches for the door handle.
“We’re not there yet,” Gang Yong says immediately.
“I know.”
Gwang Mu pushes the door open anyway. The car rolls to a stop. For a second, neither of them moves. Then—
“Thanks for the ride,” Gwang Mu says, in the same easy tone as always. But it doesn’t sound the same. He steps out before Gang Yong can respond. Closes the door gently. And walks off. He never looked back once.
Gang Yong stays there for a moment longer than necessary, hands still on the wheel, engine running. His forehead drops against the wheel. Everything he said replayed in his head. He exhales slowly, dragging a hand down his face. That’s not what he meant. Not even close.