Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I will do it!" Pain resonated in Joo Won’s voice, struggling to convey resolve through his eyes.

“So, he’s your father, after all.” A small smirk tugged at Dong Sik’s lips, scoffing at Joo Won.

“I’ll set a trap. Be the bait. I’ll become the monster, and take Han Gi Hwan with me.”

“And dive into hell when he’s reached the peak.” Those words finally forced Dong Sik to respond to the pain in Joo Won's eyes, disbelief evident on his face. “That’s my way of atoning. That’s the best revenge you can take on that man.”

"If I don’t do it..." The desperated voice pleaded for Dong Sik’s trust, cutting through the heavy rain. "No. If you think I can't do it, feel free to release the recording file." Joo Won was on the verge of begging, struggling to maintain the composure but failing miserably. The only thing preventing his complete breakdown was the rain, hiding the tears that flowed down Joo Won's face along with the droplets.

But those red eyes didn’t fool Dong Sik. The pain in Joo Won’s gaze reached him like an unspoken plea.

"You can’t… not anymore." The words scattered, making little sense on their own, but Dong Sik understood. He could see the guilt in those eyes. “No more.” You can’t keep destroying yourself. Stop throwing away your precious life.

"Please, don’t do this." Desperate hands grabbed Dong Sik’s arms just below the shoulders. The grip wasn’t strong enough to hurt, but it drowned him out the sound of the pouring rain, pulling all his focus to Joo Won’s words.

"I will…" How far was he willing to go to prove his devotion? How sincere were those words? Dong Sik couldn't help but doubt his partner’s actions. Doubting had become second nature—he had to be ready for anything. After all, peace had never been a luxury given to him in life. Being cautious was the only option. He wouldn’t care if Joo Won betrayed him, but he had to prepare for it. It wouldn't be that hard.

Jin Mook and Park Jung Je — he had always been ready in case something went wrong. That’s how he managed to keep control and not strangle them in the moment when he uncovered their filthy secrets. It had always been like this. Ever since the incident with Yu Yeon, Dong Sik had learned to split his heart in two: to care and to doubt, equally. He was always ready to be discarded by anyone. Nothing could break him. No one had the power to hurt him.

Dong Sik had always trusted this harsh belief would remain unshattered. No one could break it. He would sacrifice himself for the people he loved, but never expect anything in return. He didn’t believe anyone would do something so insane for someone as dirty as him. His life wasn’t worth that much.

But then, he saw that stubborn man in front of him, eyes burning, legs barely holding up. Hands slid slowly down Dong Sik’s arms, almost touching his wrist. His knees, clad in expensive tailored trousers, hit the concrete, soaked in dirt and rain—so filthy that Joo Won would usually hesitate to even step on it. But there he was, head down, offering devotion to Dong Sik.

"I will… go to hell."

A sinner seeking salvation, asking to be saved.

Dong Sik wasn’t taking him seriously. They were father and son — of course, Joo Won wanted to be the one to arrest him if necessary. That’s what Dong Sik had thought just a few minutes ago. But now, attention was fixed on the younger man’s bowed neck. His mind would have been in a daze if it wasn't for the trembling hands gripping him.

How could he?

Why would Joo Won do this for someone like Dong Sik? After everything he had seen, how could he still kneel at his feet and swear loyalty?

Something bloomed in Dong Sik’s chest, a tightness in his heart, as though it were trying to free itself from invisible chains that had bound him for years. But now, they burned again, leaving a bitter taste in his throat.

The desire to completely give himself to someone. To entrust his heart to them.

Even if unconsciously, it was all he had ever wanted during those years of solitude. The lingering shadows of the dead, people he had loved blaming him. The whispers of guilt were almost unbearable. But at some point, Dong Sik had learned to carry the pain alone, to smile, and mask the grief that had been silenced long ago.

And yet, that fool seemed to see through every scar, understanding him so deeply that he was willing to take his place in hell, to burn in his stead.

This is how I’ll atone. For not understanding your pain all this time. This is how I’ll make up for having the filthy blood of that man running through my veins.

It was concerning. Concerning, but at the same time, comforting. Han Joo Won was willing to carry all the weight himself, to lift Dong Sik up. It had been twenty years since he’d felt this safe. This loved.

Joo Won would sacrifice everything for him, expecting nothing in return.

He made Dong Sik feel worthy of all that, after years of never even considering it.

It took some time for Dong Sik’s mind to process the flood of emotions that had been buried for so long. His face burned, eyes stung, and despite all the efforts to hold back, a tear rolled down his cheek. The cold rain mixed with the warmth of his cry, leaving a bittersweet trail.

He wouldn’t let Joo Won see him like this. Even without a mirror, he knew his eyebrows were furrowed, lower lip pushed forward. Dong Sik paused for a moment in the dramatic downpour, needing time to get steady; if he didn’t, he would crumble right there, the weight of the frustration spilling over in an ugly, desperate cry.

Finally, pulling himself together, Dong Sik raised a fist and grabbed Joo Won’s hand.

"Come on. Get up. It’s cold out here. We’re going to catch a cold."

Joo Won froze at the touch, head snapping up with a startled expression. Immediately, Dong Sik remembered the inspector’s aversion to unwanted contact. He slowly started to pull the hand back, trying to play it off. But Joo Won pulled it right back, their supposedly cold palms were feeling almost too warm against each other regarding the cold rain.

"...Okay."

That was all Dong Sik got before he felt Joo Won’s soft fingers tighten around his, using the grip as support as he stood. Reality hit Joo Won like a train. He couldn’t meet Dong Sik’s gaze, eyes shifting to the yard, while their grip remained firm.

"Let’s go inside, okay?" Dong Sik guided him gently towards the door. In that quiet and exhausted state, Joo Won's image reminded of a stray black cat he had seen wandering the streets the other day. "It’s late, and I don’t trust you to drive home alone. Take a hot shower and stay here for the night, alright?" Dong Sik opened the door, pulling them both inside. In return, he received a hesitant look, as if asking something.

"I have brand new sheets and towels. Don’t worry about it." For the first time, Joo Won felt grateful that Dong Sik could read him like an open book. Satisfied, eyes wandered anywhere but Dong Sik’s face. Dong Sik let go of his hand briefly, leaving the entrance while he opened the nearby bathroom. Joo Won didn’t move a muscle. A minute passed before Dong Sik returned with a small towel, dropping it over Joo Won’s usually silky, now rain-ruined hair. But the sight was strangely pleasant.

"Aigo… Look at you, completely soaked. We need to dry you off before going inside, hm?" They were still standing on the hyeon-gwan, so their wet clothes weren’t an issue—at worst, it would be annoying to mop up the puddles later. Dong Sik waited for Joo Won to do something, take the towel and start drying off. But all he saw was a slow, half-hearted motion, barely rubbing at his hair.

"Aiya, if you go that slow, you’ll catch a cold anyway, Joo Won-ah." With no choice, Dong Sik stepped closer, hesitating before reaching out.

"I…" Dong Sik’s slight shrug made it clear what he was asking. Joo Won simply nodded.

Dong Sik took the towel, gently rubbing Joo Won’s hair, careful not to startle him—completely different from how he usually did it to himself, scrubbing so hard it sometimes burned. Once he thought Joo Won was decent enough to go inside, he took the towel, drying his own hair, which was equally drenched.

Joo Won immediately scrunched his nose, disgusted.

"I’m not like you, Doryeon-nim," Dong Sik teased. "I don’t mind sharing a towel just to dry my hair. Especially yours—I’m sure it’s extra clean." 

Joo Won hadn’t said a word since stepping into Dong Sik’s house, and honestly, that was fine with him. Dong Sik realized at some point that exhausting conversations made his partner feel this way. In certain situations, Joo Won forced himself to speak, but it was clear how uncomfortable he was. So be it—Dong Sik would do whatever it took to make him feel at ease. Making Joo Won comfortable meant Dong Sik would be comfortable, too.

"Joo Won-ah, the shower’s upstairs. The new towels are in the cupboard under the sink. If you want, you can open a new bar of soap and borrow my slippers if it’s uncomfortable to step into the shower without any. They’re right in front of the door. I’ve got a pair of pajamas I’ve only worn once in my closet; I’ll leave them outside the bathroom for you, alright?" Joo Won nodded in response and moved toward the stairs. Dong Sik let out a breath, shoulders relaxing as he heard Joo Won’s footsteps on the stairs. Leaning against the wall, he allowed himself a moment of rest.

"Stubborn idiot." His chest tightened again as he thought about Joo Won’s words. A single minute more in that situation and he would have collapsed to the ground, letting himself cry in Joo Won’s arms.

Now, with a moment to think, his vision blurred once more with tears. Had Joo Won really meant everything he said? Would he really go to hell for Dong Sik? Would he ruin himself just to make sure he was okay? The thought was inevitable, but there was a strange comfort in it. Dong Sik had always been the one to sacrifice, never allowing anyone to consider doing the same for him. Jae Yi had tried, but he didn’t let her. He didn’t want to, and he didn’t really believe she would.

And honestly, he’d never let Joo Won do something like that either. But at some point, the decision had slipped from his control. That nosy  bastard was making decisions on his own, insisting on getting in his way. Not long ago, Dong Sik had convinced himself it was simple curiosity and impulsiveness. But now, he realized that Joo Won truly cared. From the moment Joo Won learned Dong Sik wasn’t the murderer, curiosity had turned into attachment.

The night they arrested Jin Mook, Dong Sik remembered feeling confused when Joo Won had handcuffed them together, or how he had lost control in the interrogation room when Jin Mook strangled him. He wasn’t stupid—the thought that Joo Won might care as a friend had crossed his mind. But that damned voice always insisted that no one could ever love him. People might like his presence, find him funny or entertaining, but no one could love him as a person. Convinced by that thought, Dong Sik dismissed the possibility.

But today, for the first time in 21 years, the voices had faded away, and he was certain Joo Won cared. He liked him and would do anything to keep him close—even too much, perhaps.

"Aesaekki... fuck. Don't do this to me." Along with the comfort came inevitable fear. It felt good to be loved, but the more he thought about it, the more terrifying the idea became. Of all people, why did Joo Won have to care about him? All Dong Sik had ever brought to those around him was misfortune. He’d seen that curse take his father from him, leave his mother in a cruel situation, and little by little, Joo Won was walking down the same path. And he was exclusively the one to blame for everything. 

Dong Sik buried his face in the wet towel, lost in possible solutions to the situation, breathing deeply. He thought of all the ways he could push Joo Won away. Hurting his feelings wouldn’t be difficult; Dong Sik always thought of him as a plastic lock—just a little pressure, and he’d find a good reason to make Joo Won leave Manyang for sure. He already knew about plenty of his insecurities.

That’s what Dong Sik had always done: keep people close enough to take care of them, then push them away when necessary. But just the thought of hurting Joo Won made breath catch in his throat.

"I can’t do that. Not to him. Not again." All these thoughts tortured him, and the grip on the towel tightened. Dong Sik pulled his face away and tossed the towel on the nearest counter. "I’ll think about this later." He did the same with the coat, took off the shoes, and finally stepped inside.

Chapter Text

Joo Won opened the old bathroom door, creaking sounds sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine. The screws must be rusty and old, he thinks as he steps into the room, wearing Dong Sik’s slippers.

Finally, he gets a chance to look around. The first thing that catches his eye is the drain near the sink — rusty and dirty . Avoiding dwelling too much on it, Joo Won convinces himself that he's just too obsessive about cleanliness, and there's nothing really wrong here. He walks over to the mirror, only to find it fogged up, likely from age, the glass oxidized in several spots. But it doesn't matter — that's the least of his concerns. He takes off his overcoat, hanging it on the hook next to Dong Sik’s towel and does the same with his pants. Remaining only the shirt, he slowly starts unbuttoning it, catching a fleeting glance of himself in the mirror. The sour expression on his face is a quick reminder of regret. Han Joo Won despises seeing his own image naked in mirrors, but that feeling has only worsened since his eating habits deteriorated.

Maintaining a healthy routine was essential for the inspector. Having a structured schedule helped him keep track of basic tasks—brushing his teeth, taking a shower, eating. During his early adolescence, Joo Won struggled with this. Moving to England abruptly, far from everything he was used to had been a shock. It disrupted every aspect of his life, including his eating habits.

Mealtimes became something unpleasant, something to endure. A burden. His father made sure of that. Every day, Joo Won sat at the table knowing he would have to force himself to swallow whatever the butlers served. Over time, eating became an unpleasant chore — one he took no pleasure in, not even with his favorite foods.

Instead, there was a strange sense of guilt whenever he ate . Feeling full was disgusting . 

Since Joo Won was an introspective child who barely spoke English, no one noticed his concerning lifestyle. He would only seek out food when felt on the verge of passing out — and that’s exactly what happened.

In the middle of a gym class, Joo Won fainted on the court.  It didn’t take long for the nurse to determine the cause — malnutrition. He was sent to the school counselor, and for the first time, someone told him something useful: Create a routine.

And so he did. Eating became part of it. It was the only way Joo Won didn’t feel repulsed by food. Exercising and eating worked well.

But with everything that happened in Manyang, Joo Won fell back into his old habits. The melancholic fog in his thoughts became paralyzing — he stopped going to the gym, stopped eating. As a result, he lost his good physique and was starting to lose weight.

Looking in the mirror was agonizing—everything felt wrong, unrecognizable. Yet, every attempt to eat came with a suffocating sense of guilt.

Joo Won averts his gaze from the mirror and sighs,finishing the last button before stepping into the shower. He steps out, drying himself with the fresh towel Dong Sik mentioned. He cracks the door open and peeks through the gap, spotting a set of pajamas laid out on the older man's bed.

Inspecting the fabric, he notes that it's indeed new — or, if it had been worn, only a handful of times. It fits him perfectly, which is probably why Dong Sik never wore it again. It must have been too big for him.

The amusing image that forms in Joo Won’s mind draws a quiet chuckle through his nose.

Now comes the hard part — going downstairs and facing Dong Sik. There’s still so much to discuss. Joo Won needs to show him the entire recording, and that will be excruciatingly embarrassing. Not to mention how he acted, letting Dong Sik take him by the hand and lead him home wasn’t exactly the most dignified sight he could offer.

He stops at the bottom of the stairs, biting his lip, his cheeks tightening with self-conscious shame as his eyes scan the living room in search of Dong Sik.

“Joo Won-ah.” Dong Sik emerges from the kitchen with a cup in hand. 

“I made tea. Took a guess, but you seem like someone who’d like it. Did I get it right?” Bingo. A brief, fleeting glimmer passes across Joo Won’s downcast eyes, like a shooting star. Dong Sik smiles, pleased. A bit smug, actually.

 “I knew it. I know you better than you thought, don’t I? Seems like you were wrong” Joo Won quickly recalls the day he told Dong Sik not to speak as if he knew him so well. He mutters under breath, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t get too full of yourself”  Dong Sik hands him the cup.

"I never use that mug, I always use mine every day, and there aren’t many visitors in this house, so don’t worry. It’s sweet herbal tea, Doryeon-nim. Is it to your liking?" Dong Sik speaks in an exaggeratedly formal tone. 

"So, am I a good candidate for butler? Am I ready to serve my dear Doryeon-nim?" Joo Won stifles a laugh, his smile twisting. Damn, Dong Sik was really good at breaking his composure. It was a constant struggle for Joo Won to keep himself from laughing when Dong Sik was around. “What? Why are you laughing at me? I’m serious~ how cruel.”

"You're nowhere near following the protocol properly," Dong Sik chuckles, and Joo Won can't help but smile, laughing along with him. "Thanks."

“You're welcome, Doryeon-nim.” He places a hand on his chest and extends it toward Joo Won, giving a slight bow. The amusing gesture brings out another smile from Joo Won.

 “If you don't mind… I'll take a shower too. Feel free to sit on the couch and watch TV while I'm at it. Make yourself comfortable. There's food in the fridge, so help yourself to anything.” Joo Won nods, and Dong Sik heads to the shower. He sits on the couch, gently holding the mug, enjoying the warmth it radiates.

—--------------------------------------------------

Thirty more minutes pass, and Dong Sik quietly descends the stairs. Joo Won was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the older man’s footsteps.

— I’m back. — The towel draped over his shoulders as he finished drying his hair. Joo Won was seated comfortably, feet propped up on the couch, knees near the chin. At the sound of Dong Sik’s voice, he quickly pulled his feet down, face flushing with embarrassment.

“Aigo, I told you to make yourself at home, didn’t I? Put your feet back up.” — Dong Sik stood in front of the couch, arms crossed. His command was almost like a threat. Joo Won let out a few stammering sounds, as if to justify the situation, but Dong Sik’s intense gaze won, and reluctantly, he placed his feet back up on the couch. Dong Sik smiled immediately. — “Alright, I’m going to get myself some coffee.”

His trip to the kitchen was quick, and soon he was back on the couch, settling next to Joo Won. Each of them at one end.

“How are you feeling?” Joo Won was still finishing the tea, absently tapping the edge of the cup, buying time to think of an answer. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to—”

“I mean it” Dong Sik’s response cut through Joo Won’s words.

“What?”

“I meant everything I said earlier.” His words were firm, the seriousness matching the tone. Dong Sik huffed through his nose.

“Han Joo Won…” He took a sip of the hot coffee, steam rising from the edge of the cup.  “Don’t be an idiot. I don’t want you doing any of that, I don’t want you—”

“Please don’t say that.” Joo Won rested his forehead against the edge of the cup. “Let me do this. I need to. I want to, Dong Sik-ssi. Don’t take that away from me.”

“Joo Won-ah… You have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know what your plan is yet, but going down that path means destroying yourself. Is that really what you want?”

“Yes.” — Dong Sik clenched his teeth, gripping the cup handle too tightly.

“Aesaekki ya!” — The sudden aggression in his voice startled Joo Won, making his shoulders tense up. — “You want to end up like me?! Do you have any idea how deep this hole goes?!”

“I don’t know!” Joo Won fired back in the same tone. “I don’t know how bad it can get, but I don’t care. I won’t let you keep destroying yourself, It’s enough! If anyone here has to sacrifice to see a happy ending, it’ll be me!” Joo Won lifted his chin to face Dong Sik, using the free hand to clutch the pajama where his chest rests, wrinkling the fabric. 

“Please. I can’t watch you do this. It hurts, Dong Sik-ssi .” His firm voice gave way to the pain from earlier. “Please.”

Dong Sik rested both elbows on his thighs, leaning back slightly to take another sip of the coffee. The angry expression softened a little.

“Damn… You brat…” He slouched back against the couch cushions. “Show me the recording. All of it.” Joo Won knew this moment would come. Showing the recording. Exposing all those vulnerabilities to Dong Sik. Just thinking about his father's words brought the overwhelming urge to cry, making him feel dizzy.

Dong Sik noticed the hesitation.

“What’s the problem? Don’t you want to go to hell for me? What’s with showing a simple recording compared to that?”  Tone remained harsh, even though he knew the recording could contain something very sensitive for Joo Won. But acting like this was the only way to get the madness out of his partner’s head — pressuring him, making him realize he was making the wrong choice. Showing him just how cruel the world could be.

Dong Sik was convinced he could do this.

However, the mere sight of his trembling hands reaching for the phone on the table was like a sharp jab. His anxious, disoriented gaze nearly made Dong Sik’s shoulders falter, struggling to keep his confident posture intact.

“N… No. There’s no problem. Just a moment, I’ll… open the file.” Joo Won placed his feet back on the floor, visibly bouncing the right leg nervously.

He opened the file, placing the phone on the coffee table in the middle of the room, next to his now cold, empty cup.

Chapter Text

He opened the file, placing the phone on the table in the middle of the room, next to his now cold, empty cup. The recording starts with the sound of a car door slamming shut, followed by Lee Chang Jin settling into the seat.

“Did you really want to come back here?” Chang Jin’s unmistakable voice crackles from the phone’s speaker, and within the very first minute, he plainly states that the order to kill Jin Mook came from Han Gi Hwan.

Joo Won already feels the discomfort rising, the memory of hearing it live still fresh and unsettling. The conversation then shifts to Jung Cheol Mun and the blackmail that forced Gi Hwan to defend him during the hearing.

“I think… you should take care of him.” Between the lines, the meaning was crystal clear. What Gi Hwan really meant was kill him. Once again, Joo Won shifts uncomfortably on the couch, anxiety churning in his gut, heavier than before.

“How?”

“Figure something out, as always.”

“Chief Jung is a dirty little rat. He’s not like Nam Sang bae. He would never show up at some junkyard just because he received a text.”  The mood grew heavier as soon as Nam Sang bae's name came up. The air in the room felt harder to breathe, despite the climatizer working just fine.

“Nam Sang bae showed up knowing he’d die, but Chief Jung would never.” A cruel memory tickles at Dong Sik’s mind. He remembers the song his ahjussi used to sing all the time.

Without you I feel lonely on this road…

At times, it was maddening — Dong Sik couldn’t bear hearing him hum those same lyrics, even in the most serious moments. But over time, something shifted. He grew used to it. Eventually, the habit became his own.

“If i hadn’t attacked him from behind, he would’ve shot me to death. ” The bittersweet memory collapsed under the weight of Lee Chang Jin’s grotesque confession. Dong Sik had always known the truth — but knowing was different from hearing it spoken, cruel and unapologetic. The words crawled under his skin like ice.

He closed both eyes and shook his head slowly, as if that alone could keep Sang Bae’s bloody and dead image from forming. He didn’t need another dying face etched into his nightmares.

“That’s not my problem.”

“So you want to be spared the details? Because you’re a cop? No. You’re just not any cop. You’re the next Commissioner General.”

“Just figure something out on your own.”

  The audio had devolved into petty jabs and veiled insults, a back-and-forth that barely held Dong Sik's attention. If he could’ve skipped that part, he would have — just to spare himself from hearing those voices any longer. But then something caught his ear. Do Hae Won’s name was mentioned, and with it, a shift. According to their talk, she likely knew who was behind Jin Mook’s death. Just like that, Dong Sik’s focus snapped back, sharp and alert.

“She and her son are suspecting us for killing Kang Jin mook. She asked if we had teamed up behind her back, I’ll tell her if you think it’s okay.”

“I don’t know what it is that you’d tell her.”

“The reason we killed Kang Jin mook. More precisely, the reason we sealed Kang Jin mook’s lips for good.”

“I don’t remember what it was.”

“You really don’t remember? The interesting story that I heard from Kang Jin mook that day? October 15th, 2000. He was here at dawn. He was watching everything.”

“Did he see me?” Dong Sik covered his forehead and eyes with one hand, drawing in a long, steady breath. It was already the third time he’d listened to that recording — there was no reason to let it shake him again.

Are you saying he saw me that night? Kang Jin mook that scumbag, saw me cause the accident? He saw me hit Lee Yu Yeon… Is that what you’re saying?” Even if it was the third time, it still hurt. That part never changed. But all Dong Sik did was drag the skin beneath his eyes downward, revealing the raw, reddened flesh under his lids. The gesture was subtle — just enough to release the pressure, to ground himself. The frustration didn’t last long. He soon straightened up, refocusing on the audio.

Joo Won, too, was flooded with that same pain. He remembered the moment with unnerving clarity — stepping out of the car, fingers wrapped tightly around the golf club, fully prepared to end those two bastards right then and there.

Joo Won despised his father. Even if he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that hatred took root, he had always known Gi Hwan was a despicable and cruel man. The kind of person who would crush anyone beneath him just to climb a little higher. Joo Won learned that lesson early — on the day he was shoved onto a plane to England against his will. That was when it all became clear: being his son didn’t mean a thing. If he ever became too inconvenient, Gi Hwan would discard him. And an introverted, volatile child was exactly the kind of problem the future Commissioner General had no intention of keeping around.

And yet, despite the truth carved into every bitter memory, a wretched, stubborn fragment of hope still clung to his chest like a parasite. It was sickening how deeply it rooted in the cracks of his heart. That maybe, just maybe, one day Gi Hwan would look at him and feel something that resembled pride. Not disappointment. Not disdain. Not indifference.

It was humiliating, that he still held on to that fantasy. A child’s wish wrapped in adult silence. He never spoke of it — not even to himself — because saying it out loud would never make it real, and he couldn't bear to face how pathetic that was.

But no matter how many times Gi Hwan trampled over his dignity, no matter how cruel the man proved himself to be, that hope refused to die. It clawed, screamed and bled inside him. Because some part of Joo Won — fragile, foolish, still desperately seeking approval — couldn’t accept that his father was truly capable of something so vile.

That was the most painful part. Not the betrayal. Not even the abandonment.
The pain came from knowing he still loved his father, deep down.

“Answer me, will you?” Han Gi Hwan’s voice cuts through the haze, dragging them both out of their mental trance.

“You know, your son. Inspector Han Joo won.” Joo Won picks at the sides of his fingers, gnawing at the cuticles with his teeth. What was coming next was even worse. His whole body tensed with the urge to snatch the phone off the table, to shut it down, to lie and say there was nothing more worth hearing. But what kind of detective would that make him? If he couldn’t stomach this, how the hell was he supposed to take Gi Hwan down?

This was the bare minimum. He had no choice but to endure.

“If inspector Han finds out about all this, will you kill your son too?” The words hit like a slap, yanking him back to the moment — more vivid, more raw than ever. That line. That line. It reignites the fire of despair that had once taken over his entire body, now spreading again like wildfire through his chest.

“Why are you bringing him up now?”

“I need to know how determined you are about this”

“How determined I am? How dare you?”

“Who do you think is responsible for this mess!? Your son and his partner, Lee Dong sik, kept digging around, but you promoted that jerk. That’s how you ended up ruining your hearing too. Let’s be honest, this whole mess because of you. If you didn’t kill that girl 21 years ago we wouldn't be in this shithole!”

“Killed her? It was a mistake. A very small mistake.”

A small mistake. 

That was all it ever meant to Gi Hwan. Killing Yu Yeon was nothing more than a means to an end. Gi Hwan’s careless tone made Dong Sik's blood boil. He slammed his fist into the cushion beside him, jaw clenched. 

“Do you know the story… of the hare and the tortoise from Aesop’s Fable?” holding himself back, he waited for that bastard to finish spinning his twisted little tale.

“... As long as the strongest don’t make a mistake, the weak has no chance of winning.” He finally finishes spinning his fable. Dong Sik stares blankly for a moment, wondering where exactly this endless monologue was supposed to lead.

“Han Joo won… He’s my son. But he resembles his mother more than me. He waits for someone to approach him first, but he’s too weak to make the first move.”

Joo Won remembers her — his mother — standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms outstretched, calling him in for a hug.

Will you let me go if I leave Joo Won here?

The agony of remembering those cruel words — the ones spoken by the woman he used to call mother comes crashing back like a wave.

They echo louder than they did back then, sharper now, because he understands.

She didn’t just leave. She tried to trade him.

From the second floor, he just watched. Frozen.

His little legs refused to move, paralyzed.He never made it down the stairs.

He never reached her. 

“Even when someone reaches out…” Gi Hwan’s voice continues, steady and heartless. “He can’t even take that hand. He pretends to be okay, strong and indifferent. He’s a fool who will imprison himself for the rest of his life.”

“And destroy his own life.”

Joo Won leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. Fingers knot tightly together, pressing against his forehead, shielding his face from the world.

He’s already heard those words once today, yet somehow, they hurt just as much.

No, worse.

Worse because this time, they’ve settled into his chest like poison.

His skull throbs with pressure, skin buzzes with static, and even breathing feels like a losing battle. His eyes, red and glassy, burn with the effort to hold back the inevitable flood. But the ache doesn’t stop. It climbs, unrelenting, from his lungs to his throat to the corners of his eyes.

All this time, he thought maybe — just maybe — he could earn something. A sliver of affection. A nod of approval.  But no. There was never a chance.

To Gi Hwan, he’s nothing. Less than nothing. Just a mangled dog, beaten down and useless.

A tool that failed to serve its purpose.

There’s no place for him in this world, not here. Not in England. Not with his mother, and certainly not with his father.

A faulty draft of a life that nobody asked for.

And now, there’s only one thing left he knows how to do—

Destroy himself.

It’s the only thing he’s ever been good at.

“Mr Lee, I will never make a mistake again.”

“What if your son is your mistake? Will you finish him, then?”

“If you’re curious, you can watch what happens.”

That was the final blow.

Joo Won curled in on himself, shrinking like a frightened child who never learned how to process pain. His father would discard him without hesitation. He didn’t love him — never had. At best, he was indifferent.

He knew that, fuck, he knew.

 It wasn’t a difficult truth to understand.

But it was too cruel to accept. 

And in moments like this, Joo Won can’t help but wonder what went so wrong. Maybe the problem really is him. Maybe he was born broken. If he’d been more like Kwon Hyeok, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so out of control.

He lowers his head to his lap, wrapping arms around his shoulders in a desperate, quiet embrace. The rest of the recording plays, but it’s just noise now. 

His body trembles, silent sobs soaking his cheeks, collar, and the soft fabric of the pajama pants. Maybe he’s crying too loudly — he covers his mouth with one hand to muffle the sound.

Dong Sik is watching. Watching him unravel in real time. It’s humiliating. Crushing. But there’s nothing to be done. No words that could soothe this ache. Not now. Not ever.

“…Joo Won.” Dong Sik’s voice is quiet, careful. But Joo Won barely hears him.

“Joo Won-ah… I’m sorry. If I had known, I wouldn’t have…”

“I’m sorry.”  Dong Sik blinks—he must have heard that wrong.

“I’m sorry, Dong Sik.”  His voice is hoarse, trembling. There’s no attempt to hide it — or maybe he couldn’t even if he tried.

“This… none of this is about me. And still… I’m standing here, making it all about how I feel. Like I have any right to be more hurt than you.” He lets out a shaky breath, eyes low, the words struggling to find their shape.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why — I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not doing it on purpose” His voice falters, softer now.  “just — just give me a second. I’ll calm down. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t move. Not a single breath dares to deepen as Dong Sik sits beside him. He's stagnant— not by pity, but by something even worse: tenderness.

Whatever plan he’d stitched together earlier— the decision to corner him, to push just enough for Joo Won to drop this reckless idea, falls apart. Faced with this, with him, there’s no way Dong Sik could bring himself to follow through.

How could he? How could he even think of cornering someone already so lost?

This wasn’t someone built for cruelty. This wasn’t someone who knew how to armor himself against the world.

Joo Won, for all his arrogance and sharpness, was just a boy trying too hard to keep from falling apart. A boy with a heart far too soft, too sincere, to survive untouched.

Dong Sik looks at him and sees something unbearably fragile: a flower, forgotten in a storm. Wilted, but still trying to bloom. Who was he to step on it? To add more rain?

No. He couldn’t hurt him. He wouldn’t. He wanted to care for him. Wrap both hands around him like a shield and never let go.

And when the cushion dips under his weight, closing that last inch of space between them, Dong Sik makes a vow without even realizing it:

If Joo Won couldn’t protect himself, then he’d do it for him.

"Han Joo Won. Who are you apologizing to?" Dong Sik’s voice is low, firm. "Don’t say that again."

“I’m sorry.”

“Han Joo Won.”

“I promise I’ll be stronger.” His fingers tangle in his own hair, pulling in a desperate, useless attempt to ease the pain seeping through his body. “This… whatever this is, it’s just a slip. I’m not like this.” His voice trembles, words spilling out uneven, barely holding together.

“Han Joo Won!” Dong Sik grabs his wrists without thinking, alarm flaring in his chest. If Joo Won pulled any harder, he’d hurt himself.

Joo Won tries to shake free, thrashing against the sofa. A raw sound tears from his throat, like his body was in agony whether or not he touched his hair.

“There’s something wrong with me!” he cries, shaking his head violently as if to expel the pressure pressing against his skull.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, aish! ”

Dong Sik leans closer, his voice sharper now, trying to cut through the storm. For the first time since they sat down, Joo Won’s face is fully visible — tear-streaked, eyes unfocused, breathing ragged.

“Let me help you,” Dong Sik pleads, his grip softening, thumb gently brushing across the center of Joo Won’s palm. A quiet, tender motion. “Please?”

Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment — half a second at most — but it’s enough. Enough for Joo Won to see it. Dong Sik doesn’t look at him with pity, frustration, or judgment. There’s no weight behind his gaze. Only care.

And in that silence that follows, Joo Won doesn’t answer but he doesn’t pull away either. Dong Sik takes that silence as permission.

Moments later, warmth presses gently through the thin fabric of his pajamas. A presence, steady and unshaking.

Chapter Text

“Let me help you,” Dong Sik pleads, his grip softening, thumb gently brushing across the center of Joo Won’s palm. A quiet, tender motion. “Please?”

Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment — half a second at most — but it’s enough. Enough for Joo Won to see it. Dong Sik doesn’t look at him with pity, or frustration, or judgment. There’s no weight behind his gaze. Only care.

And in that silence that follows, Joo Won doesn’t answer but he doesn’t pull away either. Dong Sik takes that silence as permission.

Moments later, warmth presses gently through the thin fabric of his pajamas. A presence, steady and unshaking.

“There’s nothing you can do. Just leave me alone… I can calm down on my own!” The words come out sharper than intended, the shame burns just as fiercely.

Breaking down like this — in front of Dong Sik — was humiliating. He knew his eyes had to be swollen, bloodshot.

And no amount of effort could stop the shameless stream of tears carving down his face.

“Joo won-ah, there’s nothing wrong with feeling this way. You have every right to. Who said you didn’t?” Dong Sik’s voice is soft but firm. “That man… he said awful things. Of course you’re upset. Anyone would be.” He pauses, eyes fixed on the way Joo Won curls in on himself, swallowing the guilt rising in his throat. “And I’m the one who should be apologizing. I– I didn’t know… That he’d say those things… If i knew, I wouldn't…”

“That bastard doesn’t know a damn thing,” he murmurs, jaw tight. “None of what he said is tru—”

“He’s right.” Joo Won’s voice cuts through sharply, followed by the thud of his palm hitting his thigh.

“That’s who I am. I can’t get close to anyone, and I can’t let anyone close to me!” He drags his sleeve across his face, trembling.

“Because I never know when it’ll turn into pain. I can’t read people’s intentions. I never know when they’ll hurt me. I can’t tell what they want from me,  I’m scared all the time!” His fists clench again, this time he shrugs Dong Sik’s hand away — not out of anger, just overwhelmed — covering his face with both hands.

“I’m scared I’m not enough! That there’s something wrong with me!” he cries.

 “That’s why everyone wants to screw me over. Because I’m not normal! If I were, my father would love me. He wouldn’t see me as some useless burden! He’d love me, wouldn’t he?! So tell me — how do you explain that?!”

Carefully — so carefully — Dong Sik moves. No sudden gestures. His arm stretches behind Joo Won’s back in slow motion, like approaching a frightened animal. A hand finally settles on the edge of his shoulder, light as air, waiting to see if he’ll be pushed away.

Dong Sik doesn’t move his hand. From the start, it stays there — steady but gentle — resting at the center of Joo Won’s back. A quiet gesture, nonintrusive, saying more than words ever could.

When Joo Won stirs, breath hitching, shoulders tensing like he might bolt, Dong Sik doesn’t tighten his grip or try to restrain him. His palm simply follows the motion with near-invisible care, tracing slow circles as if to say, I’m still here, if you want me to be.

He doesn’t push or invade.

He just stays there, waiting for Joo won’s reaction.

"He’s still wrong. Do you know why? Because you’re not a fool who’s going to throw away your life, Joo Won-ah." Dong Sik’s voice was so soft, so sweet, that Joo Won felt the tension in his shoulders melt away. 

"You might have your problems, but you’re not weird, not broken, nothing like that. I like you exactly the way you are. I enjoy being around you, I like your flaws and your strengths, because those are the things that make you, well, you." The movements across Joo Won’s back seemed to follow some kind of unspoken logic, like the perfect solution to a complicated equation.

It felt so right. Comfortable. It didn’t trigger the insecurity Joo Won usually felt when someone touched him. Maybe it was because he knew Dong Sik would never hurt him. He didn’t fully understand where this certainty came from, but it was unwavering.

"How can you be so sure?" Joo Won felt the urge to punch his own thigh, to turn the tightness in his head into something physical. It was what he always did when he was alone. Alone . He would never do that in front of Dong Sik.

Dong Sik’s fingers brushed the back of Joo Won’s neck, testing the waters. There was a quick, startled reaction from him.

But he stayed still. Whatever that meant, Dong Sik decided to go slow, giving Joo Won the chance to pull away if he felt uncomfortable. He began tracing the back of his neck, fingertips brushing softly, nails skimming the start of his hairline. His fingers wove gently through the strands, and Joo Won sank into the touch, no longer holding his breath like before. 

"The problem was never you. It was him. So please... don’t ever say something like that again."

"I… I’m sorry, Dong Sik. I didn’t want any of this to happen…" Joo Won’s voice broke as he let out a shaky sob, his body still rocking softly on the couch.

"Stop apologizing, you idiot. This is no problem for me." Dong Sik's hands moved with quiet certainty now, his fingers gently scratching at Joo Won’s scalp, still damp from the shower. “If it helps… I’ll admit it—I’m not exactly normal either. If anything… I actually like it.  I like taking care of you."

His hand moved slowly across Joo Won’s head, fingers running through his hair, until they reached his bangs and brushed them back. Joo Won didn’t flinch. He didn’t stop him.

"…Are you serious?" Joo Won sounded unconvinced, though his eyes met Dong Sik’s despite the tremble in his body.

"Dead serious. This ahjussi’s a little crazy too, don’t you think?" Joo Won’s fists relaxed, falling heavily into his lap, like his body had just surrendered. He took a few deep breaths. And then the quiet settled in—soft, easy, and unexpectedly comforting.

"I'm hard to deal with. You won’t be able to stand being around me for long." Joo Won sniffed, completely absorbed in the comforting touch of Dong Sik.

"Now you’re putting words in my mouth?" Dong Sik teased, a light smirk tugging at his lips. "A few months ago, you were doing everything you could to get me locked up. And look at me now — sitting here next to you, even with all this mess. What, are you going to do something more complicated than accusing me of murder?" The sarcastic, almost playful tone eased Joo Won’s heavy breathing.

"...No."

The tension in Joo Won’s back melted away, like a knot loosening, and for a moment, he found himself wondering if Dong Sik’s hands had some kind of magic. He couldn’t remember the last time his shoulders felt so light.

"And even if you did, I wouldn’t leave you alone when you needed me." Tears kept spilling, and Joo Won found himself wondering whether they were born from the same misery he always carried, or from the unexpected relief of having Dong Sik by his side.

"Your dad’s a jerk. He doesn’t know anything about you, Joo Won-ah. You’ve got a kind heart, even if you hide it. I could list your good qualities one by one, until you start believing me. How about that?"

"No."

Joo Won felt his ears burn at the last words. In fact, his whole body felt like it was on fire. He wouldn’t be able to take hearing things like that for long without passing out, it was too much. He was sure it’d trigger hyperthermia.

"That... isn’t necessary." The stream of tears began to slow, and he finally stopped biting his lip.

"So, you believe me?" Dong Sik’s hand gently stroked his shoulder, drifting lower to his arm.

"...I can consider it." They stayed there, together. Despite the silence being almost deafening, it felt calm, comfortable. Dong Sik’s touch acted like a painkiller for Joo Won.

The warmth of his touch left a trail wherever it passed, replacing the aching tingling with euphoric, almost sweet sensations. Joo Won shut his eyes without thinking, letting himself be swallowed by the rush of dopamine spreading through his back, neck, and hair, gifted by Dong Sik’s palm. God, he could stay like this forever; it was more addictive than the satisfaction of solving a complicated case. When he sensed Dong Sik was about to break the contact, it felt like being pulled out of a dream.

All those years of loneliness in his life, and no one had ever been able to pull him out of that exhausting trance. But in just twenty minutes, Joo Won felt like he was on the verge of escaping that nightmare.

He wasn’t ready to give in, not just yet. Feeling a bit more confident, Joo Won laid his head on Dong Sik’s shoulder. His leg still tapped nervously against the floor, fingers fidgeting restlessly. He waited, almost anxiously, for Dong Sik’s reaction to the unexpected contact, a small flicker of fear lingering at what might come. But Dong Sik simply held his shoulders, adjusting him comfortably beneath his chest, as if understanding the unspoken signal, continuing the gentle strokes. They communicated without words, each perfectly attuned to what the other wanted.

"I promise I’ll take care of you whenever you need, Doryeon-nim."

"Why are you doing all this for me?" Joo Won snuggled closer, listening to the steady beat of Dong Sik’s heart.

"Aigo, how many times do I have to say it?" Dong Sik sighed, his hand never stopping its gentle caress through Joo Won’s hair; if anything, it became even softer, as if finding its place. Eventually, Dong Sik’s hand moved lower, tracing the curve of his cheeks, ears, and neck.

The next day, Joo Won would convince himself that he hadn’t protested the contact because he was too incapacitated to do so. A flimsy excuse. Minutes passed, and eventually, his body began to relax. His feet stopped tapping against the floor, and his cuticles stopped being picked at. He focused solely on the steady rhythm of the older man's heartbeat and the comforting warmth that surrounded him.

They’d known each other for several months now, but never had there been such intimate contact. Of course, there had been moments of tension, when they provoked each other by pulling at collars, and the touches they shared were always rough, but careful, never too much to hurt the other.

It was almost as if there was an invisible line neither Dong Sik nor Joo Won dared to cross. The odd tension in the midst of their arguments had always been there. It was impossible not to wonder about the possibilities when their lips were so close during those confrontations.

Neither of them would admit it, but there was a strange curiosity to go just a little further. Perhaps pulling the other into a tight embrace or gently brushing their lips against each other’s soft skin. It was a curious feeling, and neither could quite explain the intrusive thoughts that, in some inexplicable way, were oddly delightful.

Maybe that’s why it all felt so natural — like they’d belonged in each other’s arms for a long time. Dong Sik’s warmth sent waves of heat through Joo Won’s naturally cold skin, a perfect contrast that somehow made everything fit. They could fall asleep like this. Whatever consequences might come from crossing that unspoken boundary of intimacy... Well, that could be tomorrow’s problem. For now, Joo Won just wanted to focus on the feeling of those calloused fingers tracing his cheeks.

"Thank you." The quiet whisper finally broke the stillness of the room. Dong Sik responded with a soft stroke along Joo Won’s jawline, and both of them shivered at the contact. Though he was the one offering comfort, Dong Sik looked just as content as Joo Won.

Taking advantage of the fact that the younger man couldn’t see him, Dong Sik allowed his eyes to linger, taking in every detail of Joo Won’s face—especially those naturally lined eyes and full, flushed lips. Without a doubt, Joo Won was the most beautiful, captivating man he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Noticing the lack of response, Joo Won leaned slightly to catch his gaze. Picking up on the cue, Dong Sik quickly looked away.

"You don’t have to thank me. I’m not doing you a favor—I’m doing this because I want to." Joo Won’s heart skipped a beat. Now that he was calm and clear-headed, everything felt more intense — even Dong Sik’s words.

"E… Even so. I should be the one helping you right now, not the other way around." Joo Won lowered his eyes to the coffee table, flustered.

"Aigo… Don’t start." 

Dong Sik ruffled Joo Won’s hair a little harder than necessary, just to mess it up. "Of course I’m angry, Joo Won-ah. But trust me — nothing could be worse than what I’ve already been through. Thinking Park Jung Jae was the killer? That was a hell of a lot worse. And like you promised, we’re gonna get Gi Hwan, right? Why let your mind go there now, huh? We should be celebrating — we got the confession after busting our asses on this case."

He cupped Joo Won’s cheeks gently, giving them a small squeeze. "Relax, Han Gyeong-wi."

The sight of Joo Won’s cheeks being squished was both adorable and hilarious to Dong Sik, who almost let out a laugh. A faint blush crept up his ears. In response, Joo Won pulled the hand away, feeling his face heat up like it had been set on fire. The warmth spilled down through his chest, ribs, and stomach, leaving behind a strange, tingling chill that was oddly addictive.

“Stop that,” he murmured, voice barely holding together. “I get it, I’ll rest.” He shifted back into place, settling over Dong Sik’s chest. Their thighs accidentally brushed — soft and sudden.

They froze.

Neither dared to look at the other, afraid their eyes might betray the flush on their cheeks or the way skin buzzed from the contact. Stomachs twisted in sync, but neither pulled away. Despite the weight in the air, the burn of two hearts thudding wildly felt... good.

Dong Sik clicked his tongue softly and reached over the side of the couch. Joo Won adjusted just enough to give him space to grab the TV remote from the cushion’s edge. Once settled back, Dong Sik slipped an arm around the nape of his neck and pulled him close again, cradling him just like before.

Their legs were still touching.

“Wanna watch something?” Dong Sik turned the TV on, thumb sliding over the channel buttons.

“…Why is your TV so old, Dong Sik-ssi?” Joo Won finally asked the question that had been bothering him for a while. Someone like Dong Sik definitely had enough money for a newer model. This one was the same kind he’d seen in the house of a 65-year-old lady.

“What for? This one shows dramas, the news, and a few movies on public channels. It does the job.”

“Should I teach you how to use a smart TV, ahjussi?” Joo Won’s tone was teasing, already leaning into the joke.

“Who are you calling ahjussi? If you're going to mock me for being older, at least say hyung~.” Dong Sik shot back in mock offense, but was already chuckling.

“You don’t meet the qualifications to be my hyung.”

“Aish… then how about sunbae-nim? That work for you?”

“Sunbae-nim? Please. I’m a better detective than you.”

With a swift motion, Dong Sik hooked an arm around Joo Won’s neck, locking him gently between his bicep and chest.

“You brat, show some respect to your hyung! Who do you think you’re talking to?” His smile stretched wide as he applied just the right amount of pressure not to hurt him.

Joo Won let out a soft, unguarded laugh. Dong Sik soaked in the sound like it was something rare and precious, his eyes quietly shining with a tenderness he didn’t dare express aloud. God, if only Joo Won could see the way his smile made Dong Sik's cheeks burn — how the warmth crept in slow waves, staining his skin with a deep, helpless red.

He silently thanked the heavens that Joo Won wasn’t looking at him — if he was, he would’ve seen the deep red creeping up Dong Sik’s cheeks in a slow, undeniable gradient.

He stared, spellbound, pretending not to. And deep inside, something twisted — tight and aching — in the pit of his stomach.

Would Joo Won be afraid, if he knew?

Would it frighten him If he could feel the way Dong Sik’s heart clenched just from the curve of his mouth?

I’ll deal with it later, he told himself.

Even if it makes things much more painful.