Chapter Text
The smell of blood was hard to wash off on particular days.
Days when the scent sunk into his hair, when the red dried under his nails. It clung to his jaw, so close to his lips he could almost taste it.
It made him scrub harder, wetting the edge of his sharp teeth with his tongue, as if it might get rid of the metallic tang there.
But death lingered on him, like a warm caress.
He didn't hate it.
He hated how others perceived it.
Humans were fickle like that; looking down on men like him, yet doing everything they could to make money.
In-ho curated his mask of humanity perfectly. He brushed his hair, the scent of mint and smoke replacing the blood on his skin.
He was no longer the Frontman.
He was In-ho, respective businessman, lucrative owner.
A brother.
A son.
He buttoned up a dark suit that made him look like one of them, one of the pompous bastards he'd sometimes jam a knife into, or pop open their mouths and shoot a bullet through.
They'd take a look at him and think selfish man. Businessman. Respectable man.
No one would look at him and see South Koreas most sought out leader of a certain organization.
A criminal organization, they called it.
Those who didn't know better.
In-ho knew better.
He picked up the pieces his father left behind. For his stepmother, the woman who'd raised him. And for his brother, the only man he believed in.
Everyone else was a lost cause anyways. They were bloodthirsty, money hungry, desperate and depraved. It didn't make him a bad person to prey on that, it made him equal.
Better than.
So In-ho did as he usually did when it came to collecting overdue debt.
He went out in his formulated facade of humanity, to meet face to face with the person of interest as himself, before resorting to violence as the Frontman.
He wasn't a man without doubt, he'd just never met anyone worth giving doubt. It always ended in violence until he got his moneys worth or bodies worth.
He slid a gun on the inside of his suit, because he knew with honed dissonance that this time wouldn't be different from any of the others.
Why would it?
________
Dalgona Café looked quaint on the outside.
It was a catchy name, and situated in the backdrops near the city, where In-ho used to frequent with his step-mother many years ago, before Jun-ho was born.
The street resurfaced feelings that he shoved down bitterly. He didn't want to get soft and mushy before completing his task. There would be time for that after, when he was alone in his manor contemplating.
He surveyed the Café for a long moment. It stood out like a sore thumb in the night, where the yellow glow on the inside shone coziness. It was lined with books, and the tables were decorated in ornaments.
It was homely, and he entered without even realizing it, drawn in by the charm.
A chime echoed as the door shut. In-ho focused on Gonggi laid out on a table, along with a few other games that he hadn't played in years.
“Can I help you?"
In-ho froze for a moment before glancing up with practiced precision.
Unfortunately, it seemed, even practice couldn't prepare him for how handsome his victim was.
There was no image of him on paper. Seong Gi-hun had evaded tax collectors and all forms of identification for as long as it seemed he could, an admirable skill.
He could run from everyone, but not from In-ho.
Not that In-ho wanted to let him run far. Gi-hun had used his money. And Gi-hun was chiseled, with just the right amount of softness and ruggedness. His skin looked as if it would melt like butter in his hands, his hair inky like tar all the same.
And when In-ho stepped forward, he could smell the sugar and coffee beans that stuck to him.
"You're...not a creep, are you?" Gi-hun suddenly asked, with a raised brow. His voice was a soothing sweetness, and he took the farthest step back behind the counter, as if it was a common occurrence.
The thought itself made something like venom seep into In-ho's veins, but he composed himself, with all the practiced humanity he had in him. With all the composure of how a man like him should act.
"No," In-ho finally chuckled, "I've never been to a place like this before."
Gi-hun smiled at that, something about it dopey and innocent. "Good," he sighed, busying himself with mixing cookie dough in a large container. "I don't want to beat someone with my rolling pin today."
"Today?" In-ho asked in surprise. But also satisfaction, because it means Gi-hun took care of the other creeps when the issue arrived.
God, he was sugar and spice all in one.
"Mmh, today," Gi-hun repeated. "So how do you like it?"
In-ho almost forgot what he was supposed to be liking, that it was the Café they were talking about, not Gi-hun.
"It's nice," In-ho said truthfully, not pretending anymore or forcing humanity. It came naturally for some reason. It came with curiosity. "You designed it?"
Gi-hun nodded proudly at that. "Me and my good friends. We scrapped up enough to buy the place and make it our own a few years back, but it's hard to keep it running these days."
In-ho almost understood why Gi-hun had felt the need to take money from the gang he controlled. Almost, because if he allowed himself the empathy to understand and get attached, he'd lose himself.
He’d have a weakness
And In-ho wasn't one to give into humanity. He might’ve liked to pretend he had it, but not actually have it.
“That's a shame,” In-ho finally said in earnest. “I'm sure you do the best you can.” He took a seat at the counter, using it as a way to get closer in vicinity to Gi-hun.
He wanted to see the flecks of brown in his eyes up close, and hear the soft timbre of his voice melt like the dough he churned.
"I try. We all balance hours since it can get busy," Gi-hun shrugged. "But that's good right? The more busy, the more money. I shouldn't be complaining."
In-ho's mind froze then went rampant. If money wasn't needed for the Café, then why did Gi-hun pull out so much money?
What was he hiding?
"I'm Gi-hun, by the way," Gi-hun said, as if remembering he forgot to make an introduction. As if In-ho didn't know his name and do all the research already.
Or so he thought.
Gi-hun stuck his hand out, and cookie dough lingered on the edge of his wrist, where he'd mashed it with a metal spoon.
In-ho took his hand anyways, Gi-hum's skin just as soft and warm as he'd imagined it would be. He made sure his thumb flicked against the cookie dough on Gi-hun's skin, and reluctantly pulled away.
"Oh! Sorry about that, I'll grab you a napkin," Gi-hun apologized sincerely.
"It's no problem," In-ho said as his plan worked perfectly. He brought his thumb up to his mouth to taste, the dough just as soft and sweet as the lopsided smile Gi-hun gave him.
There was a faint red on his cheeks. He looked endearing, taken aback at the brazenness. He wondered if anyone had ever been so bold with the man.
He wondered if they made Gi-hun blush all the same, and he wondered what it might feel like to put a bullet through their skull.
"Would you like to try one of our cookies?" Gi-hun asked suddenly, pointing to the display. "You can't eat all of my dough. How will I make more?"
"Fair point," In-ho chuckled, even if he truly wouldn't mind licking all the dough off of Gi-hun. He'd pay him whatever it cost for reparations. "I'll take one of your best cookies, then."
Only because he knew it was Gi-hun who made it, and it seemed like Gi-hun made everything with sincerity and love.
"Here. It's on the house," Gi-hun said, handing over a plate with Dalgona Café imprinted in small but neat bubbly letters in the corner.
"On the house?" In-ho repeated, as if he'd heard him wrong.
Gi-hun just shrugged like it was nothing. "You said you don't visit Café's a lot, and you took the time to come here." Gi-hun smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners out of pure warmth. "You don't look like a man who says kind things, but you've only said nice things about me and my Café, so a cookie means little to me in terms of gratitude."
In-ho soaked in his words, suddenly feeling guilty for what he'd been planning to do to Gi-hun, but there was a reason he always went undercover before retaliating against unpaid debts.
He liked to know who he was dealing with.
And it seemed like, for the first time in his life, he was dealing with a fucking sweetheart.
Someone who genuinely didn't deserve his wrath.
He wasn't like his father going after innocents. No, the people who sought him out were always the desperate, the depraved, the ones willing to do anything for money.
But Gi-hun was here, giving out free cookies like it was nothing while he was already suffering in some way drastic enough to take out loans from a gang.
"You do that and you'll find it hard to keep the Café running," In-ho said, teetering the edge, toying with what he thought was the reason Gi-hun had taken his money.
He realized he'd maybe said the wrong thing when Gi-hun glanced at him, suddenly piercing into his soul.
He feared he'd wounded him, the pure man that he was with his own selfishness, when Gi-hun suddenly cracked a wide smile.
"I knew you were one of those, 'kindness is a weakness' type of guy," Gi-hun chuckled with that spark in his eyes, looking almost amused. "That's why I took it very personally when you weren't rude to me."
"That's why I have a free cookie."
"That's why you have a free cookie," Gi-hun nodded. "I don't just go around giving free cookies."
In-ho smiled at that, even though he tried to fight it. He was special to Gi-hun.
It was stupid.
He took a bite of the cookie.
It tasted wonderful.
"So what's your name, mystery man?" Gi-hun asked in curiosity. "You come in here when it's almost closing, and you stare at me like a creep—"
"I'm not a creep."
"It's okay, I don't mind it," Gi-hun shrugged off a little shallowly, "you're handsome enough, so I'll allow it."
"Enough?" In-ho asked, raising a brow.
"Very handsome on the outside. But I don't know you on the inside yet, so yes, enough," Gi-hun said thoughtfully.
The answer made In-ho simmer with a want to poke and prod apart the inside of Gi-hun's brain. He'd never someone so...human.
So selfless.
Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to give in.
Just an inch, even though it seemed Gi-hun wanted more.
Could take more.
“Aren’t I too old for you?” In-ho asked, entertaining Gi-hun’s antics, because that’s all it had to be. Nothing more.
Gi-hun gave a sly kind of smile, even as his features grew heated in a tint of red. “I guess I’ll just have to call you sir then, if I don’t know your name.”
His voice wavered just the tiniest bit as he dared to say such a thing.
It was more endearing than anything In-ho had ever seen.
He wanted to grab the younger man and push him against the counter, to take advantage of his naive flirting that came with his youth. He always liked power, anyways.
"In-ho."
He didn't hear the door chime. He didn't see Jun-ho until his brother was beside him, staring at him in disbelief.
He'd been too mesmerized by Gi-hun to pay attention to his surroundings, something that never happened.
"Jun-ho!" Gi-hun greeted with far too much familiarity, unaware to the scene that was unfolding.
He handed over a cookie, which made In-ho wonder just how sincere Gi-hun was, until Jun-ho swiped his card.
So he didn't just give them out for free, he noted, pleased over the small fact.
"What are you doing here, In-ho?" Jun-ho asked, practically hissing the words.
"So your name is In-ho," Gi-hun said more to himself.
It was a failed attempt to diffuse the situation, but his name rolled off Gi-hun's tongue just right, and his deep brown eyes were laced with curiosity as they scanned over him.
"Do you both know each other?"
"No," Jun-ho said quickly, at the same time In-ho sighed, "he's my brother."
Gi-hun stared in surprise for a long moment before nodding. "Oh..."
"We're going to leave now," Jun-ho declared for the both of them, the tension thick in the air. "Tell Dae-ho we're on for gonggi tomorrow, I've been practicing."
In-ho distantly wondered if that's why gonggi and the other games were out on the tables. He wondered who Dae-ho was. If there was anyone special in Gi-hun's life. If there was anyone he'd need to get rid of.
Jun-ho gave a brief smile and then yanked In-ho out, as if In-ho wasn't stronger than him.
In-ho allowed it, because Jun-ho was the only person he'd let touch him in such a manner.
"Goodbye, Gi-hun. It was nice meeting you," In-ho said sincerely. He'd left a large tip for the hospitality earlier, under the plate when the man wasn't looking, because he wanted to make Gi-hun smile, even if he wouldn't be there to see it.
"See you around, In-ho," Gi-hun said, in lieu of goodbye. It seemed that he wasn't the parting kind of person, and that made him all the more sweeter.
Gi-hun seemed to believe in the best in everyone, and In-ho was tempted to give it, for some unknown reason.
He didn't think that part of him even existed, and it disappeared the second they were out of the Café, standing in the darkness of the night.
________
It was raining lightly, and Jun-ho pulled his hood up as they walked on the sidewalk.
"If you get sick, mother will be upset," In-ho sighed. "Zip up your jacket."
"I'm not a fucking child," Jun-ho scoffed, "and you need to stay the fuck away from that Café, especially from Gi-hun."
"Why?" In-ho asked, curious as to what secrets his brother was keeping.
"They’re my friends," Jun-ho warned. "I don't want them dead. Everyone around you ends up dead."
In-ho didn't let the sting show. He chuckled though, at how little his brother truly knew. "Your friend owes me a debt."
"What?"
"More than you think, Jun-ho."
Jun-ho seemed to mull over that before shrugging. "Then I'll pay it off. I'm on a detectives salary now." He sighed, stopping in his tracks. "Or, you could give him time. Gi-hun will find a way. He's smart. He wouldn't have gotten involved for no reason."
"Jun-ho—"
"What are you going to do? Beat him? Kill him? Threaten his mother that's already dead?" Jun-ho asked incredulously, baring his teeth.
It was moments like these that reminded In-ho how stubborn his brother was. They were two sides of a coin, one emotional and the other emotionless.
He wondered what it must be like to feel so much, and thought distantly of Gi-hun.
"We both know that if you don't collect money from Gi-hun, it won't affect you in any way," Jun-ho pointed out factually. "You have enough money to live as luxuriously as you want. Dad made sure of that."
"Father got rich from blood money," In-ho pointed out bitterly. "I only take from those that are useless and drowning."
"Same shit," Jun-ho sighed, zipping up his jacket as the rain started to pour down harder. "Just don't touch my friends."
"I'm not going to hurt Gi-hun," In-ho said adamantly. He didn't even know Jun-ho was keeping people from him, that his brother truly feared he'd wound them like he was some monster.
Like he was their father.
"In-ho, it doesn't matter if you plan on it or not. You will somehow hurt him, and I don't want that to happen."
In-ho didn't bother catching up to Jun-ho, as Jun-ho walked away.
Then he did, reluctantly catching up to his brother. "Fine," he sighed, "I'll leave your little friends alone."
Jun-ho eased at that, visibly calmer. "Thank you," he said, as something else lingered on his tongue. "And, I'm sorry for comparing you to dad."
"It's fine," In-ho said, because he was used to being seen as a monster. It was Gi-hun who saw past it and—
There would be no more Gi-hun, and it was better off that way, anyways. In-ho didn't like weaknesses.
"You should come over for dinner," Jun-ho offered, "mom is cooking Tteokbokki. She misses you...I miss you."
In-ho looked away, pushing back his hair that was wet from the rain.
He wanted to say another day.
To push it aside and avoid his family, his only link to humanity. It was the tether his father never had, and In-ho wanted that. Or at least, he wished he could be strong enough to be as cruel as him.
Instead, he nodded, patting Jun-ho on the back as he followed him on the walk to his stepmothers cozy, humble apartment just a few streets down from the Café.
She never used the blood money.
Jun-ho would never.
And In-ho, well, he'd make sure the ones he cared for never had to stain their hands to begin with.
It was a burden he alone would carry, and why would someone as pure as Gi-hun love a monster like him, anyways?
________
Dinner with his family was something that had been long overdue.
His stepmothers embrace was warm as it always was, the apartment smelling like spice and candle wax.
It was a comforting scent, her food and her doting questions welcoming, even if she knew the kind of man he was.
The kind of son he was.
Everything was great except for the damn buzzing.
It was getting on In-ho's nerves too, and he didn't blame Jun-ho as his brother shot him an agitated glance over the dinner table.
It was hard to escape business when business always chased after him.
In-ho's phone wouldn't cease its ringing over their conversation, and it didn't seem like it would any time soon.
It never did.
He sighed, stepping out onto the balcony as he picked up the call.
"Boss—"
"What is it?" In-ho cut him off quick, wanting to get on with it.
"We got him."
"Who?" In-ho asked confused, then irritated as a thought clouded his mind.
It couldn't be.
"Seong Gi-hun. He was next on your list of debt to collect."
There was a moment of silence.
Any other day, any other person, In-ho would be pleased to be ahead of schedule. He might've even given his worker a raise for thinking ahead.
"We've got him ready for you, sir."
But it was Gi-hun, Gi-hun whom he'd just met and felt all these unidentifiable things for.
In-ho hung up immediately, anger coursing through his veins. He felt the gun in his suit burn, and he itched to grab it, and use it at the fact that someone had touched Gi-hun, had grabbed him and hurt him and chained him down to prepare.
As if he was like the others.
Because until now, they always were.
Because that's what In-ho always ended up doing; beating them until they paid more, or beating them to death. It was one or the other, and for his workers to understand his monstrous rage in advance and make it easier—more convenient—it made him want to shoot whoever had called him point blank.
He wasn't like his father.
He wanted to distance himself from Gi-hun as he'd promised Jun-ho. Not drag him into his pit of despair and darkness, the way his mother had been dragged.
"Is everything alright?" Jun-ho asked, suddenly stepping out onto the balcony, as if to assess him.
It was a good thing In-ho was skilled with hiding his true feelings. "Everything’s fine. There's something I need to take care of."
Jun-ho nodded, glancing down at the city below, where police lights and shops illuminated the streets. "Thank you for leaving my friends out of it," he sighed, "there's enough shitty things going on, right?"
"Right," In-ho agreed. "I know how hard it is for you to make friends. I wouldn't want to kill the only people who like you."
"Bastard," Jun-ho chuckled, pushing him lightly. "I'm...sorry for keeping my friendships away from you. I thought if the two ever crossed—"
"You're a detective. I know it's dangerous to interfere in your personal life, Jun-ho. It doesn't mean I won't care for it or respect you," In-ho lied, as if his men didn't have Gi-hun locked away waiting for him. "I'm not like father. I don't plan on killing everyone I cross paths with."
"I know. Ms. Yoon is still alive," Jun-ho sighed, thinking about the math teacher that had given him and In-ho both a hard time.
In-ho cracked a smile at that, the tiniest bit of his rage melting away.
"Go and deal with your issue. You can make it up to mom later," Jun-ho said, sensing the tension that radiated from his brother.
In-ho nodded, taking his leave the way he always did; Quietly, in and out.
He internally hoped he'd be able to salvage the trust that would be broken if Jun-ho found out the truth about the situation Gi-hun was in.
Outwardly though, he'd make sure whoever had dragged Gi-hun into this mess without direct orders would pay for it.
It wasn't the workers fault. If it was any other any other man that owed him a debt, In-ho would appreciate the act of thinking ahead.
So even though it was unfair whomever had called would die, he just had to.
It was an inevitable thing, and well, In-ho knew that was just how things worked.
Life wasn't fair.
Death wasn't fair.
And love certainly wasn't fair, if that was what he felt gripping him the moment he heard that Gi-hun might be in danger.
The moment he heard Gi-hun speak.
The moment he saw the man before he even knew his personality, his entire being.
Love, maybe that's what it was, for the first time.
And that was more frightening than anything In-ho had faced in his thirty-three years of living a cold and vicious life.