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Lee Dongsik is in the comfort of his own basement, mourning the loss of a daughter that was never really his, when he hears a door opening and footsteps approaching.
He could tell it was his partner before he even turned his head, the squeaking of freshly cleaned dress shoes a dead giveaway, even if you had taken the decades spent in the police force away from him; it doesn't surprise Dongsik as much as it should've, considering that Han Juwon of his has a nasty habit of breaking into houses and basements that don't belong to him, getting himself worked up until tears swell in those pretty eyes, and then storming away whenever he feels like it.
The gun being pointed at him, Dongsik has to admit, is a bit of change, almost appreciated. Not that he's the first man to have ever threatened Dongsik of bodily harm, of course, it's just…nice to shake things up, every once in a while.
And so, even though the threat of imminent death doesn't scare him as much, especially since he'd consider it more as a deserved moment of peace from the abuse he has endured for the past twenty years, the grief of losing a sister worse than the one of losing a limb, and the pain of his clever mind being mistaken for the one of a lunatic whose word can never be trusted…Dongsik starts talking.
Again, it has little to do with his own survival and the chance of finally catching Yuyeon's killer, and a lot more with the enjoyment he gets from annoying the young detective standing in front of him, trembling from head to toe but still holding his gun high, just because Dongsik decided to mention a certain victim's name.
Dongsik sees the other's eyes getting teary, notices his hands shaking more than usual, and decides that that simply won't do.
He grabs the other's wrist, and yanks him until their faces are a breath away; Dongsik suddenly feels grateful for the current state of Juwon's mind, because he doubts that would've been so easy to do if someone as young and…proper as Han Juwon had decided to put up a fight instead.
“You've never shot anyone, have you?” He asks, searching for the answer in Han Juwon's panic-striken eyes, suddenly keen on avoiding his gaze.
Dongisk clicks his tongue, the disappointment clear in his voice, “Oh my, Inspector Han Juwon…here, let this old man teach you.”
He grabs Han Juwon's hand, perhaps slightly harder than he would've under different circumstances, and brings it first to the space right between his eyebrows, then between the small space separating their chests, “You either aim for the heart or the head. I know, it's harder than it sounds. But, hey- Han Juwon-ssi!”
Dongsik lands two slaps, light ones, to the other's right cheek; they're not meant to hurt him, they're meant to push his buttons, to get a reaction out of Han Juwon, be it either fight or another flight.
The older detective notices the panic leaving Han Juwon's face for a small moment, before returning twofold, a glint of…something that Dongsik can't quite decipher nor understand appearing in his eyes.
Dongsik files it away for later, then returns to his teasing: “Listen to be carefully, Inspector Han. Are you listening?”
He sees Han Juwon swallowing against the knot in his throat before giving him the slightest of nods, and Dongsik grins in response. Good, he wants to say, but bites it back.
“If I survive,” he whispers, unconsciously licking his lips, ”it'll be the end of both you and your father, the next Commissioner General.”
At those words, Juwon's feet instinctively try to get him away from this cold, dark basement, but Dongsik's faster and doesn't let him; he grabs him from the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt, a shirt that probably costs more than anything Dongsik has ever owned, and brings him impossibly closer. He smells that expensive scent that has become so characteristically Han Juwon in Dongsik's mind, something smokey and refined that, again, the older detective wouldn't be able to afford in his next two lifetimes…and so, for this exact reason, he lets himself breath it in, feels the exact moment his blood decides to rush faster as warmth finally spreads through his old body.
This is dangerous, Dongsik seems to realize, as he observes the change in Juwon's body, his usually pale skin now clammy, the tips of his ears hot even if hidden in darkness of the basement, the bottom lip he's been worrying over, as if unaware of it.
But Dongsik doesn't care, that's future-him problem, so he runs his hands through that perfectly groomed hair of his until it becomes a perfect mess, delivers a smack to his arm, yanks him closer just to push him away, touches every inch of exposed skin with wrinkly, germ filled hands that will surely send any mysophobic with more than three working brain cells running with their tails tucked between their legs.
And he doesn't stop at touching, he keeps talking, unsure of what he's saying exactly but sure enough that once he finally shuts up, his throat will hurt and he'll need a tall glass of water to recover.
He repeats the names he's already given him, Park Jungje, Oh Jihwa, Nam Sangbae, Jo Gilgoo, Hwang Gwangyoung, Oh Jihoon, Yoo Jaeyi, again and again, Park Jungje, and he yanks, Oh Jihwa, now he's pushing him away, Nam Sangbae, he grabs the back of his neck, Jo Gilgoo, caresses his hands, Hwang Gwangyoung, just to point the gun at his own head, then back to his chest, Oh Jihoon, pushes him away, Yoo Jaeyi, just to yank him closer, their bodies intertwined as if their souls had fused and he presses, and presses, and presses, until-
A choked gasp.
It startles Dongsik enough, forces him to take a step back and a staggering breath in, and examines Juwon as if he were lying on an autopsy table. Not that he would be, that is, since during all these months of partnership, Dongsik has never seen him so...alive.
…And to think that the older detective had thought Juwon was looking flushed before, for sure no more than slightly intoxicated…meanwhile, before Dongsik now stands (stumbles would be more correct, technically speaking) an Inspector Han Juwon that's crimson from his high cheekbones down to his neck and collarbones, freshly exposed from the tightness of the expensive shirt that is currently looking worn out in a way that would be surely repulsive, considering Han Juwon's taste.
Not that he had noticed, of course, just as he hadn't heard the pitter-pattering of buttons falling on the pavement after all that yanking and tugging, too busy relishing in the way those calloused hands had felt against him. (Not that Dongsik had noticed either, too busy noticing how human the other detective looked when his guard was finally down.)
Dongsik doesn't mean to look down, and even if he was taking in the sight of a beautiful man heaving after a few of his touches, he surely doesn't mean to notice the very obvious bulge straining against the inseam of fancy, probably overpriced dress pants that Han Juwon's wearing.
He most certainly doesn't mean to say, “Do you have another gun hiding there, or are you just happy to see me?”, outloud. He was just thinking about it, and he was going to laugh about it later in the comfort of his own solitary house, because he's a lunatic who also happens to be hilarious every now and then.
The tension that he had worked so hard to melt away, comes back to Juwon's body within the blink of an eye, and well…Dongsik can't have that happen, either.
So, he beckons the young detective with his hand, and… Juwon immediately follows that hand as if there was a leash tied around his neck and he had no other choice but to walk, and fuck that makes Dongsik wonder whether the villagers had been right about not standing too close to him to avoid catching any straying lunacy.
Because once is exactly what it takes for Juwon to make his way to where Dongsik had found a seat, his gaze hazy with barely hidden desire and steps that are somehow bolder than those of that day he had first broken into Dongsik's basement, sure to make a quick and easy arrest.
Now that they're standing eye to eye (Dongsik is still sitting, but he finds it intriguing, being able to meet Juwon's gaze without having to be to one to tip his head back, for once) the old detective spreads his legs apart, inviting the other closer.
That, for some weird, probably gentlemanly reason seems to startle Juwon, but Dongsik is quick to reach for his belt and pull him until they're flush, heat against heat.
“Inspector Han Juwon, don't be shy,” he chuckles in the other's ear, “You can keep the gun pointed at me, if it makes you feel better.”
That seems to do the trick, and…
…God, Dongsik hasn't been this aroused since before his sister's death. He had tried casual hooks up, both with men and women, more interested in the silence of mind that usually follows an orgasm than in the actual sex, but he had soon learnt to give up.
Believe it or not, but being falsely accused of your own twin sister's murder seemed to chase away any suitors, or attract weird ones that were after the “thrill” of sleeping with an alleged murderer. Also, he never had wanted to subject any poor soul to his company, to the length of time it would take for Dongsik to feel aroused, an arousal that wasn't guaranteed to last, if achieved, for the entirety of the intercourse.
What can he say…trauma works in fun, mysterious ways. And so, Dongsik is equal parts surprised and annoyed as he feels himself hardening against Juwon's erection. He lets his finger follow a random path, from the young detective's broad shoulders and firm chest, stops just enough to flicker a nipple, and then follows the shudders down the clenching and unclenching of his hard stomach, before finally palming his cock.
He feels it twitch against him, hardening impossibly more as Dongsik traces its length with a knuckle, his touch so gentle it's almost nonexistent, but that doesn't seem to matter to Juwon, as he buckles to get more, hands flexing against the edge of the table he's gripping so tightly.
“Lee Dongsiki-!” He moans once the old detective takes his touch completely away, and Dongsik wants to reprimand him, grab him firmly until he apologizes and goes back to using the correct honorifics. He wants to poke fun of him, to make him realize he's not running away, that he simply needs both his hands to unbuckle his belt, and unbutton his pants…but he doesn't.
Because Lee Dongsik wants. He wants to give this man the best orgasm he's ever had, so that no matter how hard he tries, he can never forget Dongsik. He wants to run a hand down his back as he comes, wants to paw at every vertebrae as he arches into this unknown pleasure, wants to run his hands over the skin tightening and fluttering.
But most importantly, Lee Dongsik is selfish. He wants that young man to come because of him, because of his bony hands that ache in the cold, looking in eyes that are surrounded by creases. He wants to feel his come hitting his palm, his chest, his chin. He wants it to stain his pants, for it to become a spot that never really goes away, no matter how frantically one scrubs at it.
And worst of all, he wants to remember. The veins in Juwon's neck as he strains, the way his body is begging to be touched, to get closer to Dongsik, to burrow under skin and never leave. The way he's looking at him, for once neither fear nor anger clouding those dark, bewitching eyes.
So Lee Dongsik touches, he frees Juwon's cock from the stickiness of his briefs, shushes him just because he can. He lets his fingertips linger as he explores the silky, smooth skin, starts stroking just as soon as he sees Juwon's opening his mouth to complain, so that instead of protests, he's met with a moan that's closer to a sob, for the way Juwon's body doubles down as if hit below belt (see? hilarious), and the way his head slowly cascades until it finds its place on the crook of Dongsik's neck.
Gradually, the older detective increases the speed of his wrist, changes up the pressure until all that can be heard in this usually deadly silent basement of his are choked-out moans, or enamored sighs whenever Dongsik thumbs at head, spreading the wetness he finds there to the rest of the shaft.
And then, because Dongsik is an asshole first and foremost, once he feels the trembling he was yearning for, once Juwon is panting against his neck, unconsciously leaving droplets of saliva that he's eager to lick off but doesn't dare to…He stops.
The reaction is immediate, Juwon rushing to raise his head so that he can nag his way into getting what he wants; but yet again, Dongsik is quicker, he grabs the back his neck and forces him back to where he was moaning up a storm, starts tenderly caressing the short hair he finds there, as if to soothe the other's cries, tears of frustration wetting Dongsik's flannel.
Dongsik shushes him again, before slowly repeating once again: “Park Jungje-”
Hearing another man's name, Juwon's head successfully shoots up, confusion and anger momentarily blinding his chase after pleasure, but that's exactly where Dongsik needs him right now.
He stares straight into his eyes as he whispers, but not before clutching a fistful of his hair, “Park Jungje, Oh Jihwa, Nam Sangbae, Jo Gilgoo, Hwang Gwangyoung, Oh Jihoon, Yoo Jaeyi. Do you understand, Inspector?”
“Lee Dongsikssi!” he gasps, clearly irate.
“Oh, we're back to formalities? And here I was thinking,” he laughs, caressing Han Juwon's cock exactly once from root to tip, savoring its heavy weight, the way it throbs and makes Juwon choke, “we had finally gotten to know each other.”
Then, he sticks his tongue out, and follows with its moist tip the path of an extremely annoying drop of sweat on the other's neck whose gradual slide he has been eyeing for a while now, until he reaches the reddened ear of the young Inspector, so that he can sigh into it those same names yet again.
“Juwon-ah, who am I covering for, mmh? Won't you be good and help this old man once?” Perhaps Dongsik's purposefully making his voice sound throaty, as if he was the one on the very edge of an orgasm, but that's for him to know and for no one else to find out.
He resumes his strokes now, but this time they're cruel in their hastiness, Juwon's punched out moans and whimpers echoing between the cemented walls of the basement and in the back of Dongsik's mind, paralleled with those seven names being muttered over and over again, even as the old detective searches for his own relief while shifting his hips against the wooden table, a table that's already holding on for dear life as Juwon finally loses it and starts thrusting his hips, fucking himself in Dongsik's hand.
“And…and if you remove this thorn from my side,” Dongsik is now also breathless and having a hard time to form thoughts, let alone entire phrases, as he feels this young, strong body pounding against his own as he mindlessly chases after his pleasure, “Maybe this ajusshi will let you come inside him next time. Would you like that, Juwon-ah?”
This, ultimately, is what seems to do it for Inspector Han Juwon. He cries out as he comes, his teeth finally unlatching from the soft skin that stretches between Dongsik's neck and his shoulder, hips still moving as he milks himself dry as if he was a man possessed.
The following minutes are spent with them stuck into this position, with Dongsik running a gentle hand from the top of Juwon's head until it reaches the flushed skin of his nape, as he murmurs sweet nothings into the chilling air, and Juwon nuzzling against the old detective's neck, relishing into the warmth and the smell he finds there as his hands clench and unclench and grip at the other's impossibly small waist.
Then, as if a clock had struck at midnight, things go frighteningly back as they were; Han Juwon flinches feet away from him as if he had been struck, the tear tracks on his face a clear contrast against his cooling skin, and he turns around to make himself look decent.
Dongsik bitterly laughs at that, not understanding what he exactly he is hiding from him that he hasn't seen in the past hour or so, and Han Juwon spins yet again with his chest puffed so that they're facing, his eyes avoid of any past ardor, his whole face now returned to that calm indifference that makes Dongsik want to scream until his lungs give out.
Han Juwon opens his mouth, probably to say something out of place, something that will hurt and ultimately stay with Dongsik until the day he dies, so the old detective precedes him.
He raises a hand, the hand that he had just used to jerk off the other, turning it slowly around so that the slight light he has in the basement can help him catch the still drying come. And, to nail it down and help it stick there without Dongsik having to open his mouth and explain with a thousand vile words he doesn't mean and chuckles he doesn't feel like faking, he pokes his tongue out to clean one of those dirty fingers of his.
Heck, he even throws a wink there, once he sees the stuttering steps that Han Juwon takes, one forward and two back, as if there's nothing more he wants than to come forth and make a home out of the space between Lee Dongsik's long legs and run away until he's reached the very edge of the world so that he can throw himself off of it.
At the end, he does what he knows best, and that is making his escape as if he was being chased, leaving behind a Dongsik who's still sat on that old unwanted table, with that old pain from his leg slowly but surely making its gradual return, and an affection he's afraid he can no longer deny to himself.