Chapter Text
Gi-hun took the cigarette that was offered, knowing he'd already failed the first and only test by accepting.
The guard withdrew his pack rudely, like it was a stupid thing to accept, and Gi-hun was left without a smoke.
He knew what the others thought; that he'd be killed. Tortured. Maimed like an animal, something less than human. Less than an omega.
One pink guard put on leather gloves and another rested a hand on his belt, where a pistol was hidden just beneath. The lavish room reeked of alphas, all blood and metal in his throat.
They leaned back against the walls, keeping watch.
Gi-hun remained seated, in no particular rush even if in the face of danger.
He welcomed it, as the two large wooden doors swung open.
And there it was, the scent of honey melting over fire, something smokey that burned sweet just around him. For him. The minty-ness was a facade.
The silence somehow grew even more quiet with heavy footsteps, soles against wood, all the breaths in the room syncing to one except Gi-hun's own.
He never followed anyone's lead and he wasn't going to start now.
"Put the gun down."
It was a firm order, a deep voice that rumbled his own senses. It was followed by a click and even sharper words.
"Don't be stupid again."
Or else there wouldn't be a next time.
Gi-hun read the room loud and clear. There was retreat then, as the guards left the office promptly, bowing their heads down in shame.
It was just the two of them alone now, no one around to understand how it really was between them, like the hidden secret that it was.
"Gi-hun."
Gi-hun raised his head. "Is this how you welcome all your friends?"
"They have orders to search those who show up unannounced," In-ho explained robotically. Like he practiced it before entering, and Gi-hun wouldn't be surprised if he did, perfectionist that he was.
"Mmh," Gi-hun hummed, "I guess cop's who show up here don't usually leave alive."
"Usually," In-ho agreed, setting down Gi-hun's badge and wallet carefully onto the expensive mahogany table before them. The only thing that divided them.
He remembered a time when In-ho would greet him with a hug, excited kid that he was no longer.
Gi-hun stared, as In-ho took off the mask that he knew was haunted, the last thing many saw before death.
It was a stark contrast, a reminder that he wasn't the same doting boy he'd been years ago. He was a man now, and In-ho set the mask down with less care than he'd done with the Seoul Metropolitan badge.
He still took so little care of his own things, but treated Gi-hun's own with utmost care.
Some things never changed.
In-ho took a seat right across then, in the even more expensive chair.
"You let your hair grow out," Gi-hun observed, something fond in his voice. "It looks nice." He memorized In-ho, how he looked in this moment.
His face was more gaunt, his features sharper, his body more structured in his black button up and coat. He'd entered the room earlier with broad shoulders taking up his own space, the way he never did when he was little.
Gi-hun chuckled to himself, remembering how In-ho would hide behind his back shyly. But In-ho walked confidently now, facing the world on his own accord.
"You haven't talked to me in that tone in years," In-ho sighed as if reading his mind, reminiscing over the same things. His finger rapped against a closed bottle of whiskey in that nervous tick he did even as a kid, fingers always fidgeting. "You want something."
Gi-hun laughed. In-ho's eyes sharped in hurt before he looked away.
"Yes and no," Gi-hun admitted, "two things can be true at once. I think this new hairstyle suits you. It's very...alphan. Handsome," he complimented, as In-ho's scent burned even sweeter.
"But."
"But..." Gi-hun trailed off, reaching out and moving the bottle of whiskey from In-ho's grasp, so his fingers would stop rapping. "I would appreciate it if you did a...favor for me."
"What kind of favor?"
Gi-hun thought about it. Of the boy he'd watched grow into the man he was now. "Years ago you would've said anything, without even asking."
"I never said no," In-ho corrected him. "I would still do anything you ask, Gi-hun, but I can't read your mind."
"I bet that kills you," Gi-hun mused, making In-ho reel in his tone.
It was a subtle warning, to watch his attitude.
In-ho looked away, breaking the eye contact like if Gi-hun started at him any longer, he might read into his soul.
And what an interesting thought that was. Gi-hun wondered what other secrets he had buried there. How much of the boy he no longer knew even if they crossed paths on occasion.
"The choice is yours," In-ho simply said with a wave of his hand. "I'll do what you want of me."
"Of you," Gi-hun drawled, his voice tilting In-ho's gaze back up without a single touch. "I don't want anything of you. I want for you," he clarified, as those dark browns bore into him. "To give me an invitation."
In-ho didn't show much expression on his face, but Gi-hun caught the minuscule twitch of his fingers, before he folded them on his lap.
"You want to attend—as you mocked my father before—gang meetups?” In-ho scoffed, like the ridiculous thing that it was. "As a cop?”
Gi-hun stared back.
“I never thought the day would come when my brother's best friend tried to turn me in,” In-ho mourned, his disappointment evident in his voice.
"I'm your brothers best friend now?" Gi-hun asked in faux hurt, knowing that In-ho didn't mean it.
It was simply a tactic In-ho used to distance him. "I thought we were family," Gi-hun mused. After all, he'd raised him as much as Jun-ho did.
"Family can be cruel," In-ho said pointedly. "Jun-ho isn't proud I've followed after our father and taken up the family business. He'd turn me in if he wasn't a respected detective. It'd bring shame to his image...his little brother a feared monster while he's admired like a hero."
Gi-hun sighed. "You know he doesn't think that. You could put in some effort on your part too. Visit on holidays. Call more often. He misses you."
"Do you miss me?" In-ho asked, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on his pants. "Or did you visit for your favor?"
Gi-hun smiled knowingly. He knew there was some part of the real In-ho there. "Are you asking if that's all I visited you for?"
In-ho didn't dignify himself with an answer.
The silence dragged on.
"If you're asking if I miss you, the answer is yes," Gi-hun admitted easily. "What's your answer?"
In-ho grew even more silent at that. More resolute. More stubborn.
"Just like when you were a kid," Gi-hun mused.
It'd only been months since Gi-hun had seen him last, but In-ho was growing fast into his features, into his muscles, in a way that suited him for the better.
The boy might've been his best friend's little brother, but it was obvious he wasn't a kid anymore. He was a full grown alpha now, taking over his father, at the helm of Korea's most infamous crime syndicate.
Still, the way he behaved around him was the same. "Guess you only grew up on the outside."
In-ho scowled instantly. "Don't call me a kid—"
"Always brooding, always moody, always dramatic—"
"You're not much older than me—"
"Six years is six years, In-ho," Gi-hun tutted, "look at you, talking over me. Arguing over nothing. Giving me the silent treatment and then waiting for me to chase after you. Don't you see nothings changed?"
In-ho promptly shut his mouth, his hand balling into a fist now.
"Careful. You might get actual wrinkles there," Gi-hun warned, where In-ho's fingers fisted the fabric that he'd been pretending to smooth out earlier.
And that—that was apparently the last straw.
In-ho froze.
Then he threw nearly everything on the desk down with a swipe of his arm, the glass shattering loudly, whiskey staining all the papers and the fancy rug.
His chest heaved, and Gi-hun raised an unimpressed brow at his outburst.
"Leave," In-ho demanded, standing up tall, but never tall as Gi-hun himself. And Gi-hun stood there too, grabbing him by the wrist.
"Sit," Gi-hun ordered, towering over him as he felt In-ho's skin grow flushed in his grasp.
In-ho stared at him venomously. Silently. Then he obeyed, lowering down into his seat with teeth gritting into each other.
No, In-ho would never fight him, no matter how much he grew up, or how angry he was.
Gi-hun knew that, and he made space for himself there, leaning back against the desk and still holding his wrist.
He glanced down, where the small shards of glass had lodged itself into In-ho's palm from his outburst.
"You shouldn't have done that," Gi-hun sighed in worry, "don't you have enough scars?"
In-ho's anger had always got the best of him. He took after his father in more ways than one.
In-ho glanced up at him now, as if reading his mind. "Most of them are because of you."
"I didn't make you throw your expensive whiskey to the floor," Gi-hun chided him, "maybe it's a good thing. You need to learn to be sober again."
"I am sober. You just know what to say to make me..."
"Crack like dalgona that's been melted for too long?"
"You do it because you can, and it's not fair," In-ho hissed, as Gi-hun pulled the shards of glass out from his skin. And In-ho's hand was rugged, all callused skin that had been abused before. His forearms had more scars, more knife wounds from enemies. Gi-hun wanted to know the stories of them, if only In-ho would talk to him the way he used to.
"You only visit to ask for a favor. After months of silence," In-ho stated, in what Gi-hun knew was thinly veiled hurt.
"I didn't know you wanted to hear from me," Gi-hun admitted truthfully. He released In-ho's hand once all the glass was out. "If only you said what you wanted in words."
In-ho looked away again, stubborn as always, wrapping a cloth around the blood that dripped down.
Gi-hun gently grabbed his jaw, forcing his gaze up. "I might not like what you do, but I'd never turn you in without warning," he promised, before releasing him. "You're forever the little alpha who stole candies for me. You've always liked danger, haven't you? Being like your father must be more fun than being a detective like Jun-ho."
"I liked seeing you smile," In-ho said, obviously ignoring the demeaning words, even if how he leaned into Gi-hun's touch betrayed him. "It isn't just the danger. You liked candy and you couldn't afford it."
"Exactly. You like helping those you care for,” Gi-hun reasoned, as In-ho stared up at him from where he was sitting, obeying still. “You can help me now, too.”
In-ho's gaze hardened. He didn’t look all too enthusiastic at his manipulation tactic, even more so that it seemed he was considering giving in.
“I don’t know why you stole. You could've paid for it. Your dad is...your dad," Gi-hun trailed off. Because In-ho's father was one of the richest men in Korea, probably, not that anyone knew. It was all under wraps per gang.
"Giving something to you doesn't have the same effect as taking something for you," In-ho explained simply. "There's fun and there's gratification, two different things."
"Mmh, well, safe as you are, it doesn't mean your...associates are," Gi-hun drawled out the word, letting it hang in the air.
"You want me to bring them to light?"
"No, I want you to bring me into the dark," Gi-hun corrected him, rounding the table. He carefully avoided the mess on the floor, of shattered whiskey and glass, before taking a seat right across, the desk being the only thing between them again. "I might be an omega, but there's power in that."
"What are you saying?" In-ho asked inquisitively, his voice thick with an edge, like he already didn't like where this was going.
"Jang Deok-su. He's our new focus over at the precinct," Gi-hun divulged. "Erratic. Violent. Powerful. He's a prime example of a corrupt alpha. The kind that would chase after an omega they're taken with. The kind that would be stupid enough to fall for a neat little trap."
In-ho froze. Gi-hun was instantly suffocated by the spike of his scent, all heady and bitter like blood. It was metallic in the room that belonged to the Frontman. With hints of copper. Some iron.
"You?" In-ho asked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Gi-hun had never seen In-ho unravel at the seams so fast, his fingers rapping against another bottle of whiskey that tipped close to the edge now, his gaze focused on the mahogany table before them.
Gi-hun nodded there. "Me."
"You want to go out with-with Deok-su?"
"Is it so bad to play a game of courting if it ends with him behind bars?" Gi-hun sighed, because In-ho was making this a bigger deal than it had to be. "There are other ways but this is the fastest. You know how many alphas I've drawn in and ruined this way. Playing the long game is...long."
"I know," In-ho scowled.
"I didn't ask for your approval, the same way you never asked me before dropping out of police academy."
In-ho's silence was weary.
"What are you thinking?" Gi-hun asked, the same way he'd urge him to speak when he was a kid.
"Why my enemy?"
Gi-hun laughed at that, but stopped as soon as In-ho's eyes shone in even more hurt. "Enemy? You guys aren't comic book villains. You're In-ho, and he's—"
"Don't say your alpha."
"I was going to say Deok-su," Gi-hun said, a little warily, as he eyed In-ho up and down. "You hate him. But you both are bad people. What's the saying? Enemy of thy enemy is my friend!"
"I'm not your enemy, Gi-hun. And it seems you want to be more than friends with him."
"That's the point of a trap," Gi-hun clarified, because in-ho apparently needed it.
But In-ho only scowled, his fangs sharp, visible in the low lights. "Exactly."
"And?"
In-ho stared at him, confused now. "And?" He repeated, like it was an offensive word.
"What's your problem?"
"There is no problem," In-ho assured him with gritted teeth, canines digging into each other in a way that had to be painful for the alpha.
Gi-hun knew it meant that there was definitely a problem. He'd find out later. In-ho was probably being over protective as always, as if he couldn't take care of himself.
"If there's no problem, then you'll let me know when I can attend one of those meetings? All I have to do is show up and he'll be drawn in. He likes pretty omegas from what I hear—"
"I don't like him."
"Then you should be happy he's going to prison," Gi-hun reasoned. "You don't have to like him, In-ho. It's why you do business with him, not fuck him," Gi-hun suddenly laughed, but it seemed that was the wrong thing to say.
"Is that what you plan to do?" In-ho asked sharply. "How far are you willing to take this trap?"
"Whatever it takes. He's the second most wanted in Seoul after the Frontman. After you," Gi-hun reminded him. "I need to take him down."
"Well, why not Jun-ho? He's a detective, I'm sure he can get Deok-su to talk about his business. He's an arrogant alpha—"
"Arrogant, not stupid. Deok-su will see it coming a mile away from an alpha. But an omega?" Gi-hun rationed with him logically, "he won't suspect it."
"You've done your research."
"You sound disappointed that I know what I'm doing."
In-ho looked away. For the hundredth time.
"It's either him or you," Gi-hun said bluntly, knowing how stubborn In-ho could be. That once he had his mind made up on something, few things could change it from a no to a yes.
"What do you mean?" In-ho suddenly asked, still never meeting his gaze.
"I'm one of the best in the precinct, even more so than Jun-ho. You've lost many of your best men over the years because of me," Gi-hun reminded him. "I can't keep the other officers off your trail for long if you don't give me something to work with. Something that'll give them a victory so they lay off the hunt for the Frontman."
"Or you'll turn me in before they put together who's under the mask."
"They know it's not the same person. Not your father who runs things anymore," Gi-hun said, what he knew In-ho knew too. "I don't want to turn you in, but if they get close, I'd rather it be me than any of those undeserving alphas who'll get credit."
"I'd rather it be you, too," In-ho said softly. Like he was a kid again, talking about how he got away with stealing candies this time under the sheets.
Gi-hun thought of it.
It was always chaste, cut short before Jun-ho kicked In-ho out, because sleepovers were only allowed for him and Jung-bae. Not little brothers. Sometimes Sang-woo if he shared answers to homework. There was fondness to it.
"I'd rather you turn me in now than drag you into my mess. Into Deok-su's mess," In-ho said quietly, as if reminiscing too when things were easier and they had more similarities than all these differences.
Gi-hun raised an unamused brow. "No. I still care about you, In-ho. Jun-ho does too, if only you'd reach out more often. I can't believe you're twenty-four now.”
"You should stop counting."
Gi-hun sighed. "Just think about it before making a choice. You know where I live. Stop by if you don't want to be the one to call first." He straightened his jacket, and took his badge and wallet off the table. "It's not bad to hold onto your humanity, even if all you do is monstrous things."
And Gi-hun knew some things never changed. Even if In-ho changed in size he was still the same quiet but stubborn kid on the inside.
"I know you're in there somewhere," Gi-hun said aloud. "Don't make it harder than it needs to be. It's you or him, and I'd rather it be him."
With that, he stood, carefully stepping over the shattered glass and spilt whiskey on the floor. "Clean that up before you get hurt again," Gi-hun said firmly, always doting on him from afar.
And if there was one thing he knew, it's that In-ho would come around with his persuading.
He always did.
All Gi-hun had to do was ask.