Jae-Kuk "Jack" Shin

“Fuck!” Suddenly what Jack was doing didn’t seem so important. She’d never get to the actual stop in time. She’d be late and her floor manager would be pissed and give her a shitty time slot. She sighed, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear. She looked back to Jack who seemed less stressed now. Which made sense. “Hey…I never really said thank you for getting that guy off my ass that day. So, uh…thanks. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me,” Jack replied, letting his eyes flutter close when he finally pushed the needle inside. In just a few moments, his pain would begin to recede, making him ready to tackle whatever the fuck the day brought on. “I don’t want that kind of filth around here anyway. This place is fucked up enough, don’t you agree?”

Mali had never been super comfortable around drugs. Sure, she knew Zayn popped uppers sometimes and there was lots of shit at the 86 that got the dancers through their shifts but this was different. Far too intimate a thing to be done in full view of the world in the light of day. She hadn’t even realized she was staring. Apparently there were still some things in the world that could shock her.  Mali nearly jumped out of her skin as he snapped at her. As it was, she took a step back.  “Yeah, no, sorry. Don’t need anything. just waiting on the bus.” 

“You’re in the wrong place,” Jack said nonchalantly, pleased when he finally found a suitable vein. “It’s the next block up. Some kids stole the sign and moved it, but the bus ain’t going to stop here. You should keep moving.”

Being exposed like this just on his walk back from work wasn’t exactly something he was used to. It made his fingers twitch, the breath escape from his lungs before he could stop it. He was familiar with what the other was doing, and it subconsciously had him scratching at his own arm as he tried to remind himself that was no longer who he was.

“You know– it’s better to do something like that in private. Away from prying eyes.” Away from people like him who felt dizzy just from seeing it.

“And is that what you’re doing? Prying?” Jack hissed, clearly unfazed by being watched. He was a valuable CI to the police in the area - he’d have to do a lot fucking more than get high on his stoop for them to do anything to him. Still, he didn’t like the feeling of being watched, especially by a stranger. “Do us both a favor and keep walking.”

“Nah, maybe we’re just doing a lot of fucking,” Kit replied, shrugging his shoulders. He watched at Jack disposed of the syringe. Shit was disgusting, but so was everything else in this part of the city. It was full of people with the same addiction Jack had. 

“I’m really not,” he assured Jack. It wasn’t so much that he feared for himself. He wasn’t without some defenses. Not physical, but digital. He could fuck with a lot of people if he had a mind to. But this was exactly the reason he didn’t want anyone knowing about Kian. “I’m not scared. You’re just wasting your time if you’re gathering any intel on me.” 

Jack chuckled, pleased at the sub’s defensive responses. “I’m just observing, my friend. That’s all. What else is there to do down here anyway?” 

Nothing as far as he was concerned. Jack’s life consisted of sitting on his stoop, sitting. Watching. Observing. He was too slow these days to be able to move further out past his block and usually too broke to hitch a ride except to see his sister for more supplies. 

“Don’t let me keep you, Kit. I can see how important all that fucking is for you.”

“Fucking isn’t necessarily domestic,” Kit replied. He and Kian had started out fucking and okay yeah now they were domestic, but it certainly wasn’t always that way. “I didn’t think you make it your business to know everything about me. I’m not that interesting.” They both traded in information but in very different ways. Kit’s world of information was digital and somehow he imagined Jack didn’t leave much of a footprint there. He was at a disadvantage here. 

“Isn’t it, when you’re carrying shit out of your place to theirs?” Jack smirked, pleased with the way this was turning out. He tossed the dirty needle out beside his stoop, uncaring about the litter. All of the roads and sidewalks in this part of town were biohazardous anyway. He pulled of the tourniquet with a loud snap, feeling the muscles in his face relax as some of the pain began to quieten down.

“I make it my business to know everything about everyone here. You’re interesting to someone, I’m sure,” he continued, reaching for the pack of cigarettes beside him. He plucked one out and loosely placed it between his lips as he fumbled around for a lighter. “Don’t let it scare you, Kitty Kat - I don’t have anyone asking about you. Not yet anyway.”

Kit raised a brow. “Domestic? Who said that?” His relationship with Kian wasn’t exactly public info. Kit definitely wasn’t parading his boyfriend around any of his Syndicate colleagues. “I’m just crashing somewhere else because this place is a dump.” He watched Jack tie up the other arm. “Drink more water. Maybe then you’ll be able to get a vein.” 

Jack smirked, pleased he’d touched somewhere close. He’d paid attention to Kit the way he paid attention to everyone in his neighborhood, his comings and goings. And lately, it’d been a lot more going than coming despite keeping a place in the area. 

“Oh? And who the fuck would be willing home you unless you were fucking them?” Jack asked, finally finding a vein he was satisfied with. His eyes cut into a glare directed at Kit before he picked up his syringe and stuck himself with it. “I make it my business to know everything, or did you forget?” Of course, he really didn’t know anything at all except for an educated guess - but Kit didn’t need to know that.

Kit was only in the neighborhood to grab some stuff to bring to Kian’s place. He’d been spending more time there lately, and saw less and less reason to be in Leroy Bay. Watching people he knew shoot up right there on the sidewalk wasn’t something he looked forward to coming home to. But Jack was a regular fixture in the neighborhood.

At Jack’s snark, Kit took out his phone and snapped a picture. “Huh, you’re right. I’ll keep it forever,” he replied. “I don’t want anything. You good?” Jack didn’t exactly look pleased. He ought to have been feeling pretty damn good if he was getting high, right? 

Jack grumbled, though he really didn’t give a shit what Kit took a picture of. 

“You’re a dick, you know that?” he groused, huffing as he gave up on one arm and tied the other tight. “I’m peachy. What about you? Haven’t seen you around all that much. Shocked that you’re actually becoming domestic.”

“If you take a fucking picture it’ll last longer,” he snapped, frustrated mostly by the beginning pangs of withdrawal and the aching throb in his leg. “What do you want? Make it quick.”

“Fucker seems to think I’m for sale.” Mali recognized Jack though she couldn’t say she knew him well. Mostly because she tried to keep to herself as much as possible. And, usually had no trouble skirting persistent people but this one had caught her with her mind elsewhere. “You want a dance, asshole, you know where to find me. Right now though, unless you want a stiletto in  your eye socket you need to back the fuck off,” Mali said directing her anger back toward the offending asshole, poised to take off a shoe and start swinging.

Jack raised up his cane and slammed it into the offender’s shin, earning them both an ear piercing shriek. “How about some consideration for the fairer sex, huh? Fuck off out of here and don’t let me hear of you bothering anyone else again.”

At first, the other man looked ready to fight back. But he apparently thought better of it and chose to pick his battle somewhere else.

“Mm, sorry about that. Surprised he was so fucking pushy. Usually they only get that way over dope down here,” Jack explained, shrugging. “Bad day I guess. Might want to get you one of these.” He tapped his fingers on the cane’s handle, showing her.

Kit felt a mixture of relief and annoyance that Jack was getting involved. Jack was the kind of dude that Kit didn’t fuck with, the kind of neighbor he didn’t want to bother. Cool enough. Just not the guy to fuck with. “Fucker’s claiming I stole his wallet,” he said gesturing to the suit who wouldn’t leave him alone. “As if I need his stupid wallet.” He probably made more money than this guy to begin with. Hacked and stolen data and information went for high prices to the right person. And Amari was always the right person. “Maybe if you tell him to fuck off it’ll work. He doesn’t seem to get it when I say it.” 

Jack sighed and turned to the other person, pointedly saying “Fuck off. We both know you don’t have a wallet. Go rip off someone else.” 

He offered Kit an apologetic smile as the other person quickly shuffled away; Jack had an intimidating aura around him even if he was a crippled junkie. At the very least, everyone knew him, knew he had information and narcan and clean needles. Sometimes that was all the power a person needed.

“Surprised you needed help. Didn’t take you as someone who couldn’t fend off a couple junkies,” Jack teased, smirking.