[ If only Soleum knew what thoughts lived in Agent Choi's head. The reason why he teases him so much, the secrets he refuses to give away easily — then, he wouldn't have to wonder. And then he wouldn't have to wonder why he's wondering, the question gnawing at him like a daily riddle.
But he doesn't know, and he can't. So once the conversation hits a natural lull, his cigarette bud joins the senior agent's, the two sticks left behind in the ash tray seeming to send them off with a wave of the remaining wisps as they head back on their way. The ride's smoother, in no small thanks to the cooling temperatures as night spreads itself across the sky in a thick shroud. Bright streetlights gild their commute back to the bureau, the chime of their bicycle alerting pedestrians that they're coming from behind. The roads are still heavily populated with vehicles but that's how the city is, and it doesn't impede upon their eventual arrival through the gated entryway.
They make a quick stop by Human Resources to drop off the the weathered bike with a different inventory specialist. The other one most have finished his shift.
Inside the elevator headed down to their designated team waiting room, Soleum's leaned up against the side wall, hanging on to the railing. The sweat from the side of his head smudging the reflective surface. His water bottle's almost down to the bottom. At the very least, there's air conditioning. After this, he's heading straight to his locker, hanging up his coat, and catching the next bus ride home.
The elevator dings. The doors sweep open. ]
It was a long day, sir, but I hope you have a good rest of your night, [ he says, slipping off his uniform jacket and folding it over his arm. ] I'll see you tomorrow.
[It's an easy trip back. The setting sun is still warm and the air is still humid but there's a pleasant breeze as they zip through the city center to the bureau. Some kids point at the bike and laugh, others watch with half smiles as they pass. It's an odd sight for sure, two adults riding a tandem bike with a bag of tteokbokki over one handlebar, but Choi doesn't mind the attention. Seeing civilians smiling is nice. It's a friendly reminder to why he likes his job as much as he do.]
[Inventory glances at Choi with a questioning look as he shrugs at them while they turn in the bicycle, like, No clue how I ended up with that thing! He'll have to fill out the paperwork for the lost bike before the end of the week, but he's not thinking about it right now. The contaminated items are dropped off and signed for and when they're headed into the waiting room to strip off their jackets and leave the day behind, Soleum already seems well and ready to head home.]
[Which, home for him is interesting, since Choi is aware it isn't a set place at the moment. So what is there to be so excited to return to? He opens the door to the waiting room with a cheery greeting, but inside it's empty. No Bronze. He hangs in the doorway for a moment, surprised, then sees a message on the whiteboard:
Agents Choi & Grapes: Headed home first, see you tomorrow Good work today. -Bronze
Ahh... He's already gone. [He lets the door close behind Soleum, padding over to his desk slowly.] Hmm, want to finish this with me? I put some beer in the fridge. We're off the clock, should we have a drink?
[ So that was Agent Choi. He could have guessed that one. With all their post-mission dinners so far, he's starting to get a feel for his preference in alcohol.
Soleum stays close to the door, uncertainty fluttering in his gaze, but his jacket starts to droop lower down his arm and that appears to prompt him to move. He readjusts the sling of it as he pushes inside, drifting nearer to the dry erase board to read Agent Bronze's note for himself. ]
Does that feel like a good idea to you? [ He turns just so that the unsure look he sends Agent Choi can't be missed. ] We may be off-clock, but we're still — here, on the premises.
[ Wasn't there a rule about alcoholic consumption in the handbook? That thing was over a hundred page, and he read all of it from front the back after his admission into the bureau, not wanting to risk termination over a mere break of protocol. ]
Do you and Agent Bronze do that often in the waiting room?
[Soleum gives him an unsure glance and Choi returns it with a too-innocent blink. What's wrong with a couple beers after a long day?]
It's fine, it's fine. I mean, after a few long recovery missions, Bronze and I have tossed a few back, sure...
[He trails off, his mind wandering as he closes the fridge, a beer in each hand. Usually they've both been too exhausted to speak on those days. Ache and exhaustion seated over them, freed from medical check-ups and on their way to normalcy. Seated beside each other in this waiting room, a liminal not-quite-real space. A thought coming every time - Is another call going to come while we just sit here? And then, Surely someone else will take that one.]
...Sometimes, it's what you need. To take a seat in a place you know is secure, somewhere with nothing to trick you.
[Choi sits down on the couch, cracking one beer open. The foam fizzles and the liquid inside bubbles and he takes a slow, gradual sip before sighing and leaning back. A cold beer and hot food in air conditioning - It's definitely a good situation.]
Today wasn't too bad, but - It's a little grounding, being here, isn't it? You feel a little steady, right?
[He invitingly pats the spot beside him. Come on, humor him a little, hubei.]
[ Somewhere with nothing to trick you, he says, as if he isn't talking to the biggest trickster in the room. If this place isn't safe from Soleum, then it isn't safe from anything. His coat lands on top of his desk. Soleum doesn't take him up on his offer of the place right beside him, but he does sit on the arm of the couch, a safe distance apart. He can stay, just for a short while.
The dark outline of his scar quivers along the notches of his throat as he surely empties a quarter of the can into his stomach. He really has done this a number of times, without repercussion, hasn't he? ]
There are a lot of items left behind by others here, [ Soleum says, politely glancing about. Right before their mission into the ocean palace, they had a similar conversation about this place. The haunted painting one of his old teammates brought in. The leftover notes, not just scrawled on the board, but left all over the room: in old case files, stuck to the bottom side of his desk drawers, even etched into the wood of their coffee table. It's a place that's never solely belonged to one person, but seems to have indiscriminately welcomed all sorts of people these past several years.
Back then, he'd called it pleasant, but — yes, Agent Choi is right. It is steadying, knowing it's somewhere that will be here long after Soleum has left.
Finally, he takes the other can left on the table, pinching the tab open. ]
Whenever I come here, it has a warm feeling. It's no wonder you leave a bunch of home goods lying around.
[Soleum sits on the edge of the couch as if he's ready to stand up and head out at any moment. It's almost a relief he picks up the beer. Choi watches him, the can held to his lips, then slowly reaches over and tugs on his sleeve.]
You don't want to sit?
[C'monnnnn. Relax with your sunbae who you spent all afternoon with. He stares up at him expectantly.]
This place is like a home to us - Bronze feels the same way. [Hence the "home goods." The notes on the board, the beer in the fridge for long days. The blankets in the closet, the silly plastic desk figures they've gotten from grocery stores as free promotional items. But is it because it's all things from other people that Grapes doesn't feel as if it's "his" home, too?]
Even though this is a workplace, it's part of who we are. That's why it feels like home.
[He leans his head back on the sofa, still staring up at him expectantly. The tilt of his head reveals the long length of his scar, jagged and rough.]
[ The tug draws his attention off to the side, the greenish veins of his wrist peeking out from where his cuff sleeve has been plucked between his senior's fingers. Fingers that have been stabbed and scraped and nearly severed, now looking no better than a kid's pulling at an adult's compass in order to lead them where they want.
A perplexed knit forms at his brow, listening to him equate home to this windowless room, where a part of their elder still lingers behind a thickset drape. It's not like he disagrees with the sentiment. There's no wonder why they would be attached to this place, to this organization, what they and others before them have been fighting for.
There's a thump as Soleum slides, lands on the couch seat. He gently withdraws his hand from Agent Choi, casting a sidelong look his way. Happy? ]
You should eat some more of the leftover tteokbokki, [ he says, lifting his beer to his mouth with both hands, as if it were a tea cup and not cheap alcohol. ] Since we were saving some, I'm sure didn't have enough.
[Soleum moves to sit down beside him and Choi smiles, clearly pleased that it took no extra nagging. He releases him without fight and reaches to pick up the closed box from the covered table.]
Right, right. No use in it going to waste now. Here, you have some, too.
[Now they actually have chopsticks and the food is much cooler, much easier to eat, and washing it down with cold beer helps with the burn from the sauce. He sighs as he sits back and kicks a foot up onto the table.]
I'm going to be tasting this on my tongue all night, now. [He sucks off a bit of sauce from his thumb, glancing at him.] A hot day, and a hot meal... It's best to finish both off with a cold drink and air conditioning. Right?
[He smiles like he made a joke, there, even though there was no punchline, but slowly the smile weakens a little as he looks at Soleum, seems to consider what he's about to say.]
What do you think - Could a place like this be somewhere you feel you belong completely, Grapes?
[ In reality, he was afraid this was the direction Agent Choi was steering the conversation. But by staying put for a while longer, not excusing himself when he could, Soleum essentially gave him a free window to ask. After hounding him so long to stay as a permanent addition to the team, it's a given he would want to hear how he's faring… That's the job of his role on the team. Soleum understands that; he just wishes he had something easy to help him evade answering, honestly or dishonestly. It was easier when he could fall back on his initial struggle of trying to transfer out from the team.
Which leaves him with the question, now that some time has passed: What would the rookie of Black Tortoise 1, their Kim Soleum, say?
Scooted to the edge of his seat so that he's able to more conveniently reach the to-go box, it's not hard to avoid Agent Choi's gaze. He takes his time chewing on more rice cake, staring ahead at nothing in particular. ]
What does 'belong completely' mean to you, Agent Choi? Because I'm still not sure yet… I spent a long time at my previous company working toward a goal I wanted to give myself to in that same way, but…
[ Soleum shakes his head, as if to dismiss one of his darker thoughts. ]
I know the bureau and this team aren't a place like that. If possible, I'd like to continue understanding why that is.
[He can't help but chuckle when Soleum shakes his head, at the vague mention of that sham company. He picks up the second to last rice cake, squeezing it between his chopsticks and dragging it through the sauce.]
It's kind of like the boy from today, isn't it?
[He pops the rice cake into his mouth, speaking while eating.]
Many things linger in life because of their attachment to some sentimental object. Like a bicycle - Or even a bouquet, left by a mourner. A lot of things can trigger ghosts and spirits to hang back, and to cling to this world. But they can't take them with them - so all they end up doing is causing pointless pain.
[Small or large, that's their effect. Either through certain death or the annoyance of a lost bike, those supernatural hanger-ons are nothing but nuisances for them. Yet they're all based in sadness.]
When I think about it like that, it makes me appreciate the things I have right now. This space, my team, the faith people have in me... Those are things I can't bring with me when I have to be the one to move on. Even if I want them.
[As a function of this job, he thinks about his death more than most people. Rightly or wrongly, he assumes others like him are the same in that respect.]
...Maybe this is cruel, Soleum-ah, but when you move on, I hope that you remember this room. And me, too.
[ Soleum listens to Agent Choi casually speak about such existential matters like he's already experienced all there is to understand about that far shore, like he personally knows where the sky runs and ends between this place and the untold heaven not even the Dark Exploration Records is familiar with. Without realizing it, his eyes had risen to focus on him through a clearer lens, the dark of his gaze nearly gleaming red from behind his glasses.
For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
[Choi's smile grows... pained, when Soleum says that. That's not the point, he wants to insist. He doesn't care about other people, if others will mourn him when he's gone, if they'll miss him or think about him. It's not what he was saying at all, but...]
[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
[ Muttered to himself. His fingers drag through his ruffled hair, thinking, buying time.
It's not a set of words Soleum ever expected to hear from the agent, but it's not completely out of character; he was always a sentimental person. Someone who cares deeply for human life, and for the teammates that walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him into each disaster. Though different pockets of fans were more passionate about his relationship to certain other named characters, Soleum never participated or gave much thought to those discussions. Agent Choi was someone who cared for various people at various points of his story. That was just part of who he was and what made him so interesting.
Probably, it's just jarring for Soleum to hear, knowing that he isn't a fixture in this world. Confusion colors over the faint flush splitting his cheeks, hopefully enough to mask his fluster, or at least blame it on the beer. ]
Of course. I'm always thinking of the well-being of my seniors.
[ There was only ever going to be one correct answer to Agent Choi's questions. And it isn't the truth. ]
Um, would you like some wa…
[ The question never finishes. He's partially pushed off the couch, about to make toward the fridge, when, at last, he steals glance back at him — and somehow that worsens his awkwardness, seeing the uncertainty there in his smile amid the sheepishness. A little self-deprecating, like he knew already how Soleum was going to respond. He stumbles in that half-up, half-down position, grabbing on to the table to balance himself, a splash of his beer stickying the front of his shirt, dripping down the hand holding the can. Ah, really…
At least this he can handle. A few droplets dribble onto the table's surface as he places the can down, hurriedly sucking some of the liquid from his fingers to avoid dripping any further on the couch. But after a moment, he pauses at the futility, seeming to give up. ]
I'm sorry, sir, I… [ Ugh, where are his words right now? Soleum sighs. ] Have you ever heard… something called the 'crab-bucket effect'? It's when one person tries to grow or better themselves. But the others hanging on to them drag them back down.
[Like it's as easy as a ball of paper tossed from across the room, Soleum dodges the question. Choi's expression doesn't change, watching him, studying him - searching for the actual reply, the truth below it all. Why someone like him would put so much work into this department. This team. If someone like him who Choi has seen make reckless, selfless decisions so often would really be a cruel person. If someone who balks at a simple question about wanting to be craved could be capable of the terrible things he knows that scam of a business does.]
[He blinks out of the thoughts when the beer splashes and habitually reaches forward to help, but stills as Soleum recovers. He begins to lean to the side to fetch a pile of napkins left in the tteokbokki box but he only sets his hand on top of them when he starts giving more of a reply. Something more... Soleum-like. The kind of reply he was actually expecting, rather than the stale, bland one he first gave him.]
...What's with that - You think I'm not strong enough to pull us both out?
[He grins, looking a little smug. It's a facade, naturally, but it's fine for now.]
I've heard of that before. I don't think it works for people, though. We aren't mindless seafood, Soleum-ah, we all work together to better each other.
[He finally holds out the napkins but doesn't give them up, instead taking the chance to press them into his shirt, blotting at the spilled beer and reaching for his sticky hand next, still gleaming with the result of his own attempt to clean up.]
If I get drunk and Jaekwan-ie has to carry me home, he doesn't scold me for dragging him back into the bucket, right? You know?
[Like that's at all the same as what he's asking of Soleum. Like spending a tipsy night hanging off your junior's shoulder is the same as wanting your maknae to remember you when you're inevitably gone. Slowly he drags the napkin over his fingers, squeezing his wrist to keep him still as he speaks. If he gets up to get water or something stupid, he really might tackle him - so once his hand is dry he tosses the napkins to instead thread their fingers together. No escape now.]
Besides, what if outside the bucket is the deep fryer? [He rolls his thumb along the underside of Soleum's thumb, still looking at him with that hollow, default smirk.] You wouldn't feel bad for letting me go?
[ Everywhere is a deep fryer when you're in the Dispatch & Rescue Unit, he considers saying, but again, it'd be too obvious that he's deflecting the point. That he's trying too hard to ignore the edge of his thumbnail tracing down the sticky curve of his thumb to his palm. Their hands, interlaced with the vice of a crab's pincer. How it made the nerves underneath his wet shirt jump when the agent pressed down on his chest. He's rattled, he's sweating, and he has no idea what the agent is asking of him — if he's even asking, or just demanding it of him, at this point.
His fingers curl, putting up a weak struggle that ultimately goes nowhere, leaving their hands pressed wrist to wrist, veins against veins. This Agent Choi reminds him of the one he encountered in the Faceless Market, cornering him in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Like he's close to hitting gold after picking and wearing away at all of Soleum's locks and deadbolts.
But even back then, it hadn't been gold, he'd been after. It was something else. His dokkaebi hand rises, coming up as if to fend off the expectation in his senior's gaze. ]
If I had a bad feeling, I wouldn't let you go in blind. I'd leave everything I have to you…
[ That's how it comes out. A strained answer, at the end of his rope. ]
But you — you're not someone who changes his mind easily. If you were trying to leave to somewhere where you knew nothing about the risks, there must be a reason for it. Someone you could help. It wouldn't feel right to keep you away from that.
[ Behind his hand, Soleum body hunches into himself, his head hanging low as a frustrated sigh pushes out from him. ]
Ah, really! I-I wish you weren't so stubborn. Do you always have to go this far to push me around…?
[Up this close it's as if he can really feel every single beat of Soleum's heart.]
[It's like the nervous newbie he saw in the Faceless Market all over again. Sneaky, in a place he shouldn't be, doing things he shouldn't do. Shocked by Choi's appearance and yet all too willing to play dumb, like he had no idea what was going on. Like he had no idea what Choi wanted to do.]
You make it so easy, Soleum-ah!
[There's a laugh in there as he says it, Choi grinning a little more truthfully. He's so cute like this, flustered and dancing on eggshells. Is it really that difficult for him to tell the truth...? Is it his apparent respect for Choi or his fear of him? If he could look at it objectively he would back off and leave him to his evening activities but that's never once been his strongsuit when it comes to people like Kim Soleum.]
You're the type of person whose responses I can never predict. It makes spending time with you fun. [His fingers continue curling around him, rubbing along his knuckles, tracing his thumb over his palm lines, tilting his hand back to press it into his chest. He could be awful and give the same treatment to his other hand but for now he leaves it be.] It makes me want to see what makes you tick.
[They're really close now, thighs pressed together, Choi feeling to the vibration in his voice when he speaks. The waver to it. It's - so exciting, seeing him teetering on the edge. He can smell the remnants of cigarette smoke on his breath.]
You'd really give me everything, just because you thought you couldn't change my mind? [His voice drops to something right above a murmur, loud enough to be heard across the room but still much softer, more... obvious.] Even if you didn't understand my intention?
His mouth twitches with the silent open and close of his jaw, all the wrong words cutting ahead of the right ones, curses crowding up against the door of his self-control. The only thing that keeps his mind from spiraling out is what he's doing with his hand, both soothing him and adding to his unease with the same caressing touch. Even without the senior agent insisting their legs rub, insisting he keep his eyes on him unless he wants to risk him taking drastic measures to recapture his attention, it looks like Soleum is close to toppling over the side of their seat of his own defeated volition.
…
Okay.
It's not a precipitous shift, more akin to the progression of when the last act of a play wraps up, the lights slowly brightening over the dazed interior of a theater after the performing cast has finished their curtain call and the drapes have fully cloaked the stage. The nervous newbie in front of Agent Choi recedes back into Soleum, for a time, but not the furious blush staining his cheeks. Nor the put-off, narrowed stare that pierces from behind his glasses. People aren't seafood, apparently, but Agent Choi will gladly treat him like a fascinating curio he doesn't understand?
He could go for another cigarette. If Agent Choi really cared so much about Soleum's bad habits, he'd lead by example and put his taste for harassing his juniors to rest. ]
I don't need to understand everything you do, [ he tells him, slowly. Measured. ] I only need to know the place it comes from.
[ The declaration bears more strength than he truly feels. He said it, however, so he should stick with it. There's no way Soleum can predict his actual actions in a situation like that. Circumstances change, commands evolve, objectives clash. People promise one thing and do another. But he'll say whatever he needs to. ]
And, right now, I think you're just tired. And you want a distraction, but this… [ His throat clears, and he tries to straighten his spine back upright, the bones of his neck releasing a soft crack from the movement. ] is going a little too far, isn't it, Agent? I'm not your plaything…
[The flinching lips, the way his hand curls against his, his eyes darting mere millimeters to find a stable place to land - Choi watches every single motion, every twitch of adjustment, every small movement. He could write a dissertation on his thoughts about this behavior of Kim Soleum.]
[Like that, despite all that tension, all that anxiety and itching that flares through his junior, his voice is full of strength. Soleum straightens up and with the unamused look he still has pinned on Choi, anyone might take this for something out of a powerpoint on workplace harassment. He certainly looks the part of a leering senior. Too bad he doesn't care.]
That's where you think this comes from?
[He's teasing him. Picking at the thread he's so neatly laid out, tugging at the knots and stitches like a cat's claws in a woven sweater. He rolls his wrist to stretch out Soleum's in turn. He can feel every thump of blood through his veins, every moment his heart beats to try and cool the growing warmth. It plays in perfect echo with his own.]
I don't think I'm so cruel to use you like that, you know... [His other hand finally moves. Reaches to snag his hip and drag him upward, onto his legs. Wrapping his arm around his front to keep him locked against him, swapping heights so now Soleum is above him and Choi below - yet somehow, their lips are closer than ever. He's almost whispering when he speaks.] I told you, it's all about working together.
[ Whether he likes it or not, a gasp judders out through his one-eyed wince. The casual reversal spurs the tepid strands of easy-to-ignore interest into a seething cluster in his stomach. A dark bruise gaining traction with each damnable punch Agent Choi swings at his well-worn guard. The worst part is he's never been invulnerable to him, not even slightly; he's on his toes enough playing this role, but adding the watchfulness of Black Tortoise 1's most experienced agent — and his most favored one — to the mix has been catastrophic for his nerves. It's too much, and he's finally feeling his grip on the reins slipping into the distance.
What a mess. His lips are tingling like they've already shared a kiss, like just his breath is a bodily contact. That's how he can tell his sanity is breaking down. ]
Nn…
[ His teeth grits together. After all, he should have discarded all semblance of dignity and let himself avalanche flat off the couch. Now, the opportunity's flown by, and now he's at a loss as to how to look away from the yields of his own fatal mistake. Unsure if he wants to.
He's been drinking, a voice in the rearmost parts of Soleum's brain reminds him. They both have. A complicated gamut of emotions flashes across his face before he finally comes to some kind of decision. For an extensive second, he considers it. Passing his mouth over Agent Choi's just to see if he feels as good as he looks, eyeing his next move, anticipating it, testing Soleum's fortitude with the straddle of their clothed hips pinned together in a flush fit.
His chin sways forward — and then Soleum's dokkaebi hand, sensing its master's plight, sweeps in, clapped right over the agent's smart mouth just as his lips lower against the back of his own knuckles. The intervention seems to revive his wits, because his face retreats in an instant, gaze open wide in surprise until bleeding into a look of relief. What a close call. ]
You — so you don't even know how cruel you're being. [ He's pouting, a little annoyed at his own moment of weakness. ] Are you positive you weren't contaminated earlier, Agent Choi?
[It's like it actually happens, the way Choi feels the breath between them mixing and how the space separating them grows smaller and smaller. Soleum lets out that quiet noise and he thinks, Got him, expectations met. He leans forward just as Soleum does...]
[And blinks when a warm hand claps over his mouth.]
[He has to laugh. His eyes pinch in mirth as Soleum backs up, calls him out. Silly dokkaebi, thinking it knows what the greater body actually wants. Soleum asks if he might be contaminated and Choi doesn't pull the hand away to respond, only perks an eyebrow. Pointing out the obvious - So you're pretending you aren't being cruel, too?]
[But that's fine, isn't it? Dokkaebi are interesting when repairing bodies because they meld so finely with the original. Nerve endings, skin cells, muscle, bone. It's all linked perfectly. The palm over his mouth is no exception and even though it's done as a way to block, it's also a granting of something else in exchange. Choi presses his lips against that skin and drags them down and along it as his other hand continues to play and curl against the real, undamaged one.]
[He stares at Soleum all the while. Piercing, expectant. They both know what's going on. So his eyes finally give a different question after a moment, this one more of a request - Won't you cling to me, already?]
[ Drowned out, Agent Choi's mouth sticks against his palm, moving like he's daring him to keep stalling. Keep coming up with his reasons, keep dancing just out of harm's way of admitting something honest. He has a feeling that if he lifted his hand right now, a smarmy crescent moon of a smile would be there lying in wait for him.
He knows it before he reads the question on his senior's face: This means nothing. The food's gone cold. The metaphor is lost. He'll have to wash the stain from his shirt the second he gets back to his motel room. Agent Choi will stop massaging his knuckles and let go of him, eventually.
Soleum still wants to kiss him. ]
It's alright.
[ To the baby dokkaebi, his voice is gentle. When the body you belong to is a confusion of different directives and skewed emotions, it's scarcely its fault for making a decision based on unreliable information. To Agent Choi, the hand wrapped around his mouth lingers, tightening at his jaw like a restrained warning before acquiescing to Soleum's will, sinking lower. He avoids his scar entirely, pressing down on the sharp outline of his collarbone peeking out from his undershirt, the couch further depressing beneath his weighted form. ]
Just once.
[ He can't say he understands the desire from the other agent's end, but it's more convenient to believe there isn't anything to understand, or discern, or pick at the skin of. He remembers Agent Choi could also be that kind of person. Someone unserious, just trying to scratch an impulse or push a reaction.
If that's all this is — it's a bit of a shame, but that's just the remnant of the fanboy in him. Ultimately, he it takes the pressure off of Soleum, gives him the permission he needs to finally meet Agent Choi in the middle. The contact is chaste, held back by the reluctance he still feels, the anxiety that once again he's getting away with something he shouldn't. Probably, he should be concentrating on the heat of Agent Choi's mouth, following the practiced movements of his lips, but… it's all so odd. He should have a framework to fall back on for how this works, where to touch, how to move, but he can't remember any of it. Can't know if this is a disappointing display or just barely good enough. ]
[The gentle tone that's so at odds with how he was speaking to Choi just moments ago sends a thrum of - ah, is it affection? It's just so charming, to see him acting this sweet right in front of him. He was like this with that boy earlier, seeming so pleased with himself for doing the right thing. Seeing him off properly. It's the same way he speaks to the dokkaebi that's just trying to do what it thinks its master wants.]
[The smile below the hand isn't a smirk. It's not full, but it's not mocking or weak or wary. Nervous, maybe - that Soleum will still deny this, but he's good at hiding that fear. He waits patiently, even his hand gone still, but on that finally-granted allowance, his smile grows with honest relief.]
[Just once. What is that, he thinks about asking - One kiss, one go, one...? Their lips meet and he doesn't risk interrupting to confirm.]
[The hand grasped around Soleum's waist rises in an instant, immediately sinking into his hair as Choi leans forward into him. His hand squeezes tight around his fingers and his lips part in expectation - but he feels it almost immediately, the uncertain way he moves, the lack of experience, the slow anxiety that's building around the ever-present hesitation. Choi doesn't care. He seriously doesn't care - He tilts his head, letting his eyes close as he gratefully sinks into him and kisses him openly, greedily. There's no playing or teasing.]
Soleum - [He kisses him deeper. Grips his hair to tug him in close so he can tilt his head and plunge into his mouth with his tongue. He's waited long enough. Who cares if this looks desperate?]
[ He would have been similarly as happy tonight talking to Agent Choi for a little longer inside this room, to fool him and not think about it as fooling him. Maybe he would have even had a second drink as they traveled between harmless questions, such as, What was the team like when you were the rookie? Or, Have you made any friends with the other new hires yet? Maybe he would come away with more insight into the location of the documents Director Ho needs, maybe not, but he wouldn't have regretted the evening, whether it benefited his mission or not. And as he would get up to leave, Soleum would remember Agent Choi's first lighter in his pocket. If he decided to return it, maybe the man would laugh, tell him to keep it, and maybe he would, maybe he would keep it for as long as he could.
Agent Choi kisses like he's trying to communicate his hunger, and he's got no applicable words in the human language to play vehicle for him.
It's disorienting to keep up with how his mouth sweetly arches in when it seems Soleum might be pulling back, and when it's the opposite problem, to know the exact place the agent wants him to suckle at. Soleum's glasses aren't even situated on the bridge of his nose anymore, the lenses smeared and fogged up with their breaths; it's after the thing has bumped up into the other agent's brow the third time that he shucks them off, the sound of it clattering to the floor somewhere distant to his ears.
Right then, the hand swamped inside his curls drives him forward. He's not expecting it, shifting his weight up his body, untucking Agent Choi's shirt with the adjustment, his bent knee hitting up again his now bared hip, buzzing lips swept apart to welcome the dive of his tongue. ] Mm…! [ A soft sound seeps out between their mouths, confused by the slick sensation, but moaning through the intrusion. He can feel Agent Choi glide against his top teeth, as if counting the whole row of them, before tangling in with Soleum's much meeker tongue. He tries to imitate a skill he doesn't have, the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch points with Agent Choi's, circling the rough-textured edges of him — he can still taste the wheat of his beer, and less apparently, the rice cake sauce brushing up against his palate. But it's good. Not only good, it's addictive enough to be habit-forming. The more they kiss, the more it seems Agent Choi crawls inside of him, spinning a web so thick he can't imagining coughing him out. ]
[His glasses clatter off somewhere and Choi laughs into the kiss, not stopping for a moment. His chuckles halt on that first moan as if he's a hunter and just heard the telltale sign of his prey's footfalls - but unlike a hunter, he has no patience in this actual act. He moves quickly from there with the hand in his hair gliding down his cheek, down his jaw, tilting him this way and that as his fingers drag across skin and grip against bone. Soleum said 'just once' and Choi will take that as a threat he needs to coax him down from.]
[He can taste so much of him, from the cigarette to the beer to the gochujang to the slightly salty sweat around his lips. He finally releases his hand in favor of joining the other, both hands now cupping his jaw and fingers curling against skin to frame his face as he continues his hungry hunt.]
[When he finally pulls back to take a breath, heavy and wet, Choi opens his eyes to look at Soleum from mere centimeters away, exhaling as he licks his lips. Then he goes back in - along the seam of his lips, up his jaw as he manipulates his head to turn and open the path for him. He kisses his skin and follows a dried line of sweat down to the edge of his chin and begins to move lower still, toward his neck as one hand reaches down to tug open his collar and give him the access he wants.]
[ The trajectory of his touch is nowhere close to a query in Soleum's mind. He registers his fingertips skating across his face, being led and moved and poised to Agent Choi's liking, but beyond that he relishes in having a singular focus. A goal that isn't a wish, isn't just the call of home, a labyrinthine flight path out from near-constant fear. Like this, all he has to concentrate on is inhaling the heat generated by the collision of their lips, and it feels — it feels — ]
Wait, [ he hoarsely calls out as Agent Choi moves away, but then he's there again, and Soleum is relaxing into the second kiss like it's natural. Like he's forgotten something important. His brow furrows when he leaves again, eyes opening a sliver, watching in a lost stupor as his senior mouths a trail down to his neckline, the top buttons his shirt popping open without a hint of resistance. Wherever he touches, his skin feels too warm, like his nerves are already anticipating where he'll touch next and clustering there to maximize his sensitivity. He can't seem to catch his breath like this, can't clear the fuzziness from his head. ]
A-Agent.
[ Soleum pants out through a half-lidded gaze, his real hand pressed to Agent Choi's forehead to obstruct him from continuing. The look he gives him softens. ]
I think that's enough. [ His thumb brushes his bangs out from the blue of his eyes. ] We should get going. It's getting late.
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But he doesn't know, and he can't. So once the conversation hits a natural lull, his cigarette bud joins the senior agent's, the two sticks left behind in the ash tray seeming to send them off with a wave of the remaining wisps as they head back on their way. The ride's smoother, in no small thanks to the cooling temperatures as night spreads itself across the sky in a thick shroud. Bright streetlights gild their commute back to the bureau, the chime of their bicycle alerting pedestrians that they're coming from behind. The roads are still heavily populated with vehicles but that's how the city is, and it doesn't impede upon their eventual arrival through the gated entryway.
They make a quick stop by Human Resources to drop off the the weathered bike with a different inventory specialist. The other one most have finished his shift.
Inside the elevator headed down to their designated team waiting room, Soleum's leaned up against the side wall, hanging on to the railing. The sweat from the side of his head smudging the reflective surface. His water bottle's almost down to the bottom. At the very least, there's air conditioning. After this, he's heading straight to his locker, hanging up his coat, and catching the next bus ride home.
The elevator dings. The doors sweep open. ]
It was a long day, sir, but I hope you have a good rest of your night, [ he says, slipping off his uniform jacket and folding it over his arm. ] I'll see you tomorrow.
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[Inventory glances at Choi with a questioning look as he shrugs at them while they turn in the bicycle, like, No clue how I ended up with that thing! He'll have to fill out the paperwork for the lost bike before the end of the week, but he's not thinking about it right now. The contaminated items are dropped off and signed for and when they're headed into the waiting room to strip off their jackets and leave the day behind, Soleum already seems well and ready to head home.]
[Which, home for him is interesting, since Choi is aware it isn't a set place at the moment. So what is there to be so excited to return to? He opens the door to the waiting room with a cheery greeting, but inside it's empty. No Bronze. He hangs in the doorway for a moment, surprised, then sees a message on the whiteboard:
Headed home first, see you tomorrow
Good work today. -Bronze
Ahh... He's already gone. [He lets the door close behind Soleum, padding over to his desk slowly.] Hmm, want to finish this with me? I put some beer in the fridge. We're off the clock, should we have a drink?
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Soleum stays close to the door, uncertainty fluttering in his gaze, but his jacket starts to droop lower down his arm and that appears to prompt him to move. He readjusts the sling of it as he pushes inside, drifting nearer to the dry erase board to read Agent Bronze's note for himself. ]
Does that feel like a good idea to you? [ He turns just so that the unsure look he sends Agent Choi can't be missed. ] We may be off-clock, but we're still — here, on the premises.
[ Wasn't there a rule about alcoholic consumption in the handbook? That thing was over a hundred page, and he read all of it from front the back after his admission into the bureau, not wanting to risk termination over a mere break of protocol. ]
Do you and Agent Bronze do that often in the waiting room?
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It's fine, it's fine. I mean, after a few long recovery missions, Bronze and I have tossed a few back, sure...
[He trails off, his mind wandering as he closes the fridge, a beer in each hand. Usually they've both been too exhausted to speak on those days. Ache and exhaustion seated over them, freed from medical check-ups and on their way to normalcy. Seated beside each other in this waiting room, a liminal not-quite-real space. A thought coming every time - Is another call going to come while we just sit here? And then, Surely someone else will take that one.]
...Sometimes, it's what you need. To take a seat in a place you know is secure, somewhere with nothing to trick you.
[Choi sits down on the couch, cracking one beer open. The foam fizzles and the liquid inside bubbles and he takes a slow, gradual sip before sighing and leaning back. A cold beer and hot food in air conditioning - It's definitely a good situation.]
Today wasn't too bad, but - It's a little grounding, being here, isn't it? You feel a little steady, right?
[He invitingly pats the spot beside him. Come on, humor him a little, hubei.]
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The dark outline of his scar quivers along the notches of his throat as he surely empties a quarter of the can into his stomach. He really has done this a number of times, without repercussion, hasn't he? ]
There are a lot of items left behind by others here, [ Soleum says, politely glancing about. Right before their mission into the ocean palace, they had a similar conversation about this place. The haunted painting one of his old teammates brought in. The leftover notes, not just scrawled on the board, but left all over the room: in old case files, stuck to the bottom side of his desk drawers, even etched into the wood of their coffee table. It's a place that's never solely belonged to one person, but seems to have indiscriminately welcomed all sorts of people these past several years.
Back then, he'd called it pleasant, but — yes, Agent Choi is right. It is steadying, knowing it's somewhere that will be here long after Soleum has left.
Finally, he takes the other can left on the table, pinching the tab open. ]
Whenever I come here, it has a warm feeling. It's no wonder you leave a bunch of home goods lying around.
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You don't want to sit?
[C'monnnnn. Relax with your sunbae who you spent all afternoon with. He stares up at him expectantly.]
This place is like a home to us - Bronze feels the same way. [Hence the "home goods." The notes on the board, the beer in the fridge for long days. The blankets in the closet, the silly plastic desk figures they've gotten from grocery stores as free promotional items. But is it because it's all things from other people that Grapes doesn't feel as if it's "his" home, too?]
Even though this is a workplace, it's part of who we are. That's why it feels like home.
[He leans his head back on the sofa, still staring up at him expectantly. The tilt of his head reveals the long length of his scar, jagged and rough.]
Sit with me a bit.
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[ The tug draws his attention off to the side, the greenish veins of his wrist peeking out from where his cuff sleeve has been plucked between his senior's fingers. Fingers that have been stabbed and scraped and nearly severed, now looking no better than a kid's pulling at an adult's compass in order to lead them where they want.
A perplexed knit forms at his brow, listening to him equate home to this windowless room, where a part of their elder still lingers behind a thickset drape. It's not like he disagrees with the sentiment. There's no wonder why they would be attached to this place, to this organization, what they and others before them have been fighting for.
There's a thump as Soleum slides, lands on the couch seat. He gently withdraws his hand from Agent Choi, casting a sidelong look his way. Happy? ]
You should eat some more of the leftover tteokbokki, [ he says, lifting his beer to his mouth with both hands, as if it were a tea cup and not cheap alcohol. ] Since we were saving some, I'm sure didn't have enough.
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Right, right. No use in it going to waste now. Here, you have some, too.
[Now they actually have chopsticks and the food is much cooler, much easier to eat, and washing it down with cold beer helps with the burn from the sauce. He sighs as he sits back and kicks a foot up onto the table.]
I'm going to be tasting this on my tongue all night, now. [He sucks off a bit of sauce from his thumb, glancing at him.] A hot day, and a hot meal... It's best to finish both off with a cold drink and air conditioning. Right?
[He smiles like he made a joke, there, even though there was no punchline, but slowly the smile weakens a little as he looks at Soleum, seems to consider what he's about to say.]
What do you think - Could a place like this be somewhere you feel you belong completely, Grapes?
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Which leaves him with the question, now that some time has passed: What would the rookie of Black Tortoise 1, their Kim Soleum, say?
Scooted to the edge of his seat so that he's able to more conveniently reach the to-go box, it's not hard to avoid Agent Choi's gaze. He takes his time chewing on more rice cake, staring ahead at nothing in particular. ]
What does 'belong completely' mean to you, Agent Choi? Because I'm still not sure yet… I spent a long time at my previous company working toward a goal I wanted to give myself to in that same way, but…
[ Soleum shakes his head, as if to dismiss one of his darker thoughts. ]
I know the bureau and this team aren't a place like that. If possible, I'd like to continue understanding why that is.
[ Let's take on the mask of someone with hope. ]
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[He can't help but chuckle when Soleum shakes his head, at the vague mention of that sham company. He picks up the second to last rice cake, squeezing it between his chopsticks and dragging it through the sauce.]
It's kind of like the boy from today, isn't it?
[He pops the rice cake into his mouth, speaking while eating.]
Many things linger in life because of their attachment to some sentimental object. Like a bicycle - Or even a bouquet, left by a mourner. A lot of things can trigger ghosts and spirits to hang back, and to cling to this world. But they can't take them with them - so all they end up doing is causing pointless pain.
[Small or large, that's their effect. Either through certain death or the annoyance of a lost bike, those supernatural hanger-ons are nothing but nuisances for them. Yet they're all based in sadness.]
When I think about it like that, it makes me appreciate the things I have right now. This space, my team, the faith people have in me... Those are things I can't bring with me when I have to be the one to move on. Even if I want them.
[As a function of this job, he thinks about his death more than most people. Rightly or wrongly, he assumes others like him are the same in that respect.]
...Maybe this is cruel, Soleum-ah, but when you move on, I hope that you remember this room. And me, too.
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For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
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[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
You'll hang onto me, too, won't you?
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[ Muttered to himself. His fingers drag through his ruffled hair, thinking, buying time.
It's not a set of words Soleum ever expected to hear from the agent, but it's not completely out of character; he was always a sentimental person. Someone who cares deeply for human life, and for the teammates that walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him into each disaster. Though different pockets of fans were more passionate about his relationship to certain other named characters, Soleum never participated or gave much thought to those discussions. Agent Choi was someone who cared for various people at various points of his story. That was just part of who he was and what made him so interesting.
Probably, it's just jarring for Soleum to hear, knowing that he isn't a fixture in this world. Confusion colors over the faint flush splitting his cheeks, hopefully enough to mask his fluster, or at least blame it on the beer. ]
Of course. I'm always thinking of the well-being of my seniors.
[ There was only ever going to be one correct answer to Agent Choi's questions. And it isn't the truth. ]
Um, would you like some wa…
[ The question never finishes. He's partially pushed off the couch, about to make toward the fridge, when, at last, he steals glance back at him — and somehow that worsens his awkwardness, seeing the uncertainty there in his smile amid the sheepishness. A little self-deprecating, like he knew already how Soleum was going to respond. He stumbles in that half-up, half-down position, grabbing on to the table to balance himself, a splash of his beer stickying the front of his shirt, dripping down the hand holding the can. Ah, really…
At least this he can handle. A few droplets dribble onto the table's surface as he places the can down, hurriedly sucking some of the liquid from his fingers to avoid dripping any further on the couch. But after a moment, he pauses at the futility, seeming to give up. ]
I'm sorry, sir, I… [ Ugh, where are his words right now? Soleum sighs. ] Have you ever heard… something called the 'crab-bucket effect'? It's when one person tries to grow or better themselves. But the others hanging on to them drag them back down.
…I wouldn't want to do that to you.
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[He blinks out of the thoughts when the beer splashes and habitually reaches forward to help, but stills as Soleum recovers. He begins to lean to the side to fetch a pile of napkins left in the tteokbokki box but he only sets his hand on top of them when he starts giving more of a reply. Something more... Soleum-like. The kind of reply he was actually expecting, rather than the stale, bland one he first gave him.]
...What's with that - You think I'm not strong enough to pull us both out?
[He grins, looking a little smug. It's a facade, naturally, but it's fine for now.]
I've heard of that before. I don't think it works for people, though. We aren't mindless seafood, Soleum-ah, we all work together to better each other.
[He finally holds out the napkins but doesn't give them up, instead taking the chance to press them into his shirt, blotting at the spilled beer and reaching for his sticky hand next, still gleaming with the result of his own attempt to clean up.]
If I get drunk and Jaekwan-ie has to carry me home, he doesn't scold me for dragging him back into the bucket, right? You know?
[Like that's at all the same as what he's asking of Soleum. Like spending a tipsy night hanging off your junior's shoulder is the same as wanting your maknae to remember you when you're inevitably gone. Slowly he drags the napkin over his fingers, squeezing his wrist to keep him still as he speaks. If he gets up to get water or something stupid, he really might tackle him - so once his hand is dry he tosses the napkins to instead thread their fingers together. No escape now.]
Besides, what if outside the bucket is the deep fryer? [He rolls his thumb along the underside of Soleum's thumb, still looking at him with that hollow, default smirk.] You wouldn't feel bad for letting me go?
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His fingers curl, putting up a weak struggle that ultimately goes nowhere, leaving their hands pressed wrist to wrist, veins against veins. This Agent Choi reminds him of the one he encountered in the Faceless Market, cornering him in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Like he's close to hitting gold after picking and wearing away at all of Soleum's locks and deadbolts.
But even back then, it hadn't been gold, he'd been after. It was something else. His dokkaebi hand rises, coming up as if to fend off the expectation in his senior's gaze. ]
If I had a bad feeling, I wouldn't let you go in blind. I'd leave everything I have to you…
[ That's how it comes out. A strained answer, at the end of his rope. ]
But you — you're not someone who changes his mind easily. If you were trying to leave to somewhere where you knew nothing about the risks, there must be a reason for it. Someone you could help. It wouldn't feel right to keep you away from that.
[ Behind his hand, Soleum body hunches into himself, his head hanging low as a frustrated sigh pushes out from him. ]
Ah, really! I-I wish you weren't so stubborn. Do you always have to go this far to push me around…?
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[It's like the nervous newbie he saw in the Faceless Market all over again. Sneaky, in a place he shouldn't be, doing things he shouldn't do. Shocked by Choi's appearance and yet all too willing to play dumb, like he had no idea what was going on. Like he had no idea what Choi wanted to do.]
You make it so easy, Soleum-ah!
[There's a laugh in there as he says it, Choi grinning a little more truthfully. He's so cute like this, flustered and dancing on eggshells. Is it really that difficult for him to tell the truth...? Is it his apparent respect for Choi or his fear of him? If he could look at it objectively he would back off and leave him to his evening activities but that's never once been his strongsuit when it comes to people like Kim Soleum.]
You're the type of person whose responses I can never predict. It makes spending time with you fun. [His fingers continue curling around him, rubbing along his knuckles, tracing his thumb over his palm lines, tilting his hand back to press it into his chest. He could be awful and give the same treatment to his other hand but for now he leaves it be.] It makes me want to see what makes you tick.
[They're really close now, thighs pressed together, Choi feeling to the vibration in his voice when he speaks. The waver to it. It's - so exciting, seeing him teetering on the edge. He can smell the remnants of cigarette smoke on his breath.]
You'd really give me everything, just because you thought you couldn't change my mind? [His voice drops to something right above a murmur, loud enough to be heard across the room but still much softer, more... obvious.] Even if you didn't understand my intention?
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His mouth twitches with the silent open and close of his jaw, all the wrong words cutting ahead of the right ones, curses crowding up against the door of his self-control. The only thing that keeps his mind from spiraling out is what he's doing with his hand, both soothing him and adding to his unease with the same caressing touch. Even without the senior agent insisting their legs rub, insisting he keep his eyes on him unless he wants to risk him taking drastic measures to recapture his attention, it looks like Soleum is close to toppling over the side of their seat of his own defeated volition.
…
Okay.
It's not a precipitous shift, more akin to the progression of when the last act of a play wraps up, the lights slowly brightening over the dazed interior of a theater after the performing cast has finished their curtain call and the drapes have fully cloaked the stage. The nervous newbie in front of Agent Choi recedes back into Soleum, for a time, but not the furious blush staining his cheeks. Nor the put-off, narrowed stare that pierces from behind his glasses. People aren't seafood, apparently, but Agent Choi will gladly treat him like a fascinating curio he doesn't understand?
He could go for another cigarette. If Agent Choi really cared so much about Soleum's bad habits, he'd lead by example and put his taste for harassing his juniors to rest. ]
I don't need to understand everything you do, [ he tells him, slowly. Measured. ] I only need to know the place it comes from.
[ The declaration bears more strength than he truly feels. He said it, however, so he should stick with it. There's no way Soleum can predict his actual actions in a situation like that. Circumstances change, commands evolve, objectives clash. People promise one thing and do another. But he'll say whatever he needs to. ]
And, right now, I think you're just tired. And you want a distraction, but this… [ His throat clears, and he tries to straighten his spine back upright, the bones of his neck releasing a soft crack from the movement. ] is going a little too far, isn't it, Agent? I'm not your plaything…
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[Like that, despite all that tension, all that anxiety and itching that flares through his junior, his voice is full of strength. Soleum straightens up and with the unamused look he still has pinned on Choi, anyone might take this for something out of a powerpoint on workplace harassment. He certainly looks the part of a leering senior. Too bad he doesn't care.]
That's where you think this comes from?
[He's teasing him. Picking at the thread he's so neatly laid out, tugging at the knots and stitches like a cat's claws in a woven sweater. He rolls his wrist to stretch out Soleum's in turn. He can feel every thump of blood through his veins, every moment his heart beats to try and cool the growing warmth. It plays in perfect echo with his own.]
I don't think I'm so cruel to use you like that, you know... [His other hand finally moves. Reaches to snag his hip and drag him upward, onto his legs. Wrapping his arm around his front to keep him locked against him, swapping heights so now Soleum is above him and Choi below - yet somehow, their lips are closer than ever. He's almost whispering when he speaks.] I told you, it's all about working together.
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What a mess. His lips are tingling like they've already shared a kiss, like just his breath is a bodily contact. That's how he can tell his sanity is breaking down. ]
Nn…
[ His teeth grits together. After all, he should have discarded all semblance of dignity and let himself avalanche flat off the couch. Now, the opportunity's flown by, and now he's at a loss as to how to look away from the yields of his own fatal mistake. Unsure if he wants to.
He's been drinking, a voice in the rearmost parts of Soleum's brain reminds him. They both have. A complicated gamut of emotions flashes across his face before he finally comes to some kind of decision. For an extensive second, he considers it. Passing his mouth over Agent Choi's just to see if he feels as good as he looks, eyeing his next move, anticipating it, testing Soleum's fortitude with the straddle of their clothed hips pinned together in a flush fit.
His chin sways forward — and then Soleum's dokkaebi hand, sensing its master's plight, sweeps in, clapped right over the agent's smart mouth just as his lips lower against the back of his own knuckles. The intervention seems to revive his wits, because his face retreats in an instant, gaze open wide in surprise until bleeding into a look of relief. What a close call. ]
You — so you don't even know how cruel you're being. [ He's pouting, a little annoyed at his own moment of weakness. ] Are you positive you weren't contaminated earlier, Agent Choi?
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[And blinks when a warm hand claps over his mouth.]
[He has to laugh. His eyes pinch in mirth as Soleum backs up, calls him out. Silly dokkaebi, thinking it knows what the greater body actually wants. Soleum asks if he might be contaminated and Choi doesn't pull the hand away to respond, only perks an eyebrow. Pointing out the obvious - So you're pretending you aren't being cruel, too?]
[But that's fine, isn't it? Dokkaebi are interesting when repairing bodies because they meld so finely with the original. Nerve endings, skin cells, muscle, bone. It's all linked perfectly. The palm over his mouth is no exception and even though it's done as a way to block, it's also a granting of something else in exchange. Choi presses his lips against that skin and drags them down and along it as his other hand continues to play and curl against the real, undamaged one.]
[He stares at Soleum all the while. Piercing, expectant. They both know what's going on. So his eyes finally give a different question after a moment, this one more of a request - Won't you cling to me, already?]
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He knows it before he reads the question on his senior's face: This means nothing. The food's gone cold. The metaphor is lost. He'll have to wash the stain from his shirt the second he gets back to his motel room. Agent Choi will stop massaging his knuckles and let go of him, eventually.
Soleum still wants to kiss him. ]
It's alright.
[ To the baby dokkaebi, his voice is gentle. When the body you belong to is a confusion of different directives and skewed emotions, it's scarcely its fault for making a decision based on unreliable information. To Agent Choi, the hand wrapped around his mouth lingers, tightening at his jaw like a restrained warning before acquiescing to Soleum's will, sinking lower. He avoids his scar entirely, pressing down on the sharp outline of his collarbone peeking out from his undershirt, the couch further depressing beneath his weighted form. ]
Just once.
[ He can't say he understands the desire from the other agent's end, but it's more convenient to believe there isn't anything to understand, or discern, or pick at the skin of. He remembers Agent Choi could also be that kind of person. Someone unserious, just trying to scratch an impulse or push a reaction.
If that's all this is — it's a bit of a shame, but that's just the remnant of the fanboy in him. Ultimately, he it takes the pressure off of Soleum, gives him the permission he needs to finally meet Agent Choi in the middle. The contact is chaste, held back by the reluctance he still feels, the anxiety that once again he's getting away with something he shouldn't. Probably, he should be concentrating on the heat of Agent Choi's mouth, following the practiced movements of his lips, but… it's all so odd. He should have a framework to fall back on for how this works, where to touch, how to move, but he can't remember any of it. Can't know if this is a disappointing display or just barely good enough. ]
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[The smile below the hand isn't a smirk. It's not full, but it's not mocking or weak or wary. Nervous, maybe - that Soleum will still deny this, but he's good at hiding that fear. He waits patiently, even his hand gone still, but on that finally-granted allowance, his smile grows with honest relief.]
[Just once. What is that, he thinks about asking - One kiss, one go, one...? Their lips meet and he doesn't risk interrupting to confirm.]
[The hand grasped around Soleum's waist rises in an instant, immediately sinking into his hair as Choi leans forward into him. His hand squeezes tight around his fingers and his lips part in expectation - but he feels it almost immediately, the uncertain way he moves, the lack of experience, the slow anxiety that's building around the ever-present hesitation. Choi doesn't care. He seriously doesn't care - He tilts his head, letting his eyes close as he gratefully sinks into him and kisses him openly, greedily. There's no playing or teasing.]
Soleum - [He kisses him deeper. Grips his hair to tug him in close so he can tilt his head and plunge into his mouth with his tongue. He's waited long enough. Who cares if this looks desperate?]
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Agent Choi kisses like he's trying to communicate his hunger, and he's got no applicable words in the human language to play vehicle for him.
It's disorienting to keep up with how his mouth sweetly arches in when it seems Soleum might be pulling back, and when it's the opposite problem, to know the exact place the agent wants him to suckle at. Soleum's glasses aren't even situated on the bridge of his nose anymore, the lenses smeared and fogged up with their breaths; it's after the thing has bumped up into the other agent's brow the third time that he shucks them off, the sound of it clattering to the floor somewhere distant to his ears.
Right then, the hand swamped inside his curls drives him forward. He's not expecting it, shifting his weight up his body, untucking Agent Choi's shirt with the adjustment, his bent knee hitting up again his now bared hip, buzzing lips swept apart to welcome the dive of his tongue. ] Mm…! [ A soft sound seeps out between their mouths, confused by the slick sensation, but moaning through the intrusion. He can feel Agent Choi glide against his top teeth, as if counting the whole row of them, before tangling in with Soleum's much meeker tongue. He tries to imitate a skill he doesn't have, the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch points with Agent Choi's, circling the rough-textured edges of him — he can still taste the wheat of his beer, and less apparently, the rice cake sauce brushing up against his palate. But it's good. Not only good, it's addictive enough to be habit-forming. The more they kiss, the more it seems Agent Choi crawls inside of him, spinning a web so thick he can't imagining coughing him out. ]
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[He can taste so much of him, from the cigarette to the beer to the gochujang to the slightly salty sweat around his lips. He finally releases his hand in favor of joining the other, both hands now cupping his jaw and fingers curling against skin to frame his face as he continues his hungry hunt.]
[When he finally pulls back to take a breath, heavy and wet, Choi opens his eyes to look at Soleum from mere centimeters away, exhaling as he licks his lips. Then he goes back in - along the seam of his lips, up his jaw as he manipulates his head to turn and open the path for him. He kisses his skin and follows a dried line of sweat down to the edge of his chin and begins to move lower still, toward his neck as one hand reaches down to tug open his collar and give him the access he wants.]
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Wait, [ he hoarsely calls out as Agent Choi moves away, but then he's there again, and Soleum is relaxing into the second kiss like it's natural. Like he's forgotten something important. His brow furrows when he leaves again, eyes opening a sliver, watching in a lost stupor as his senior mouths a trail down to his neckline, the top buttons his shirt popping open without a hint of resistance. Wherever he touches, his skin feels too warm, like his nerves are already anticipating where he'll touch next and clustering there to maximize his sensitivity. He can't seem to catch his breath like this, can't clear the fuzziness from his head. ]
A-Agent.
[ Soleum pants out through a half-lidded gaze, his real hand pressed to Agent Choi's forehead to obstruct him from continuing. The look he gives him softens. ]
I think that's enough. [ His thumb brushes his bangs out from the blue of his eyes. ] We should get going. It's getting late.
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