#mixjin

▓█ au   ▬▬▬▬ present day  ▬▬▬▬ potential starter

“should you really be talking to me like that?” he asks, not bothering to hide his exasperation. he shoots his accompanying glare at the young officer, or babysitter which seems more accurate, since all protocol has seen him do is keep an eye on any witnesses or suspects that filter in and out of the precinct. now, it’s protocol’s turn, or jeon jeongguk’s– regular customer of baratie, the mere intern that often enjoyed the restaurant’s atmosphere with his laptop and simply bought a high end cup of coffee instead of the food most did.

when the spd is finally ready to question him on what he knows, he’ll say nothing– put on the perfect face of an innocent teenager, shocked and frightened that the owner of the very restaurant was arrested under suspicion of being second in command of one of the biggest gangs in seoul. i had no idea. i talked to him sometimes, but i was just a bratty kid that gave him a hard time about anything i could. i knew he was the owner of the restaurant and the chef but i didn’t know anything else…i barely even knew his name. seokjin, was it?

except officer daehyun here, if he’s even earned the title yet, has taken it upon himself to try to question jeongguk before the actual questioning begins. he’s too on-edge, like there’s something dark lurking beneath the surface of his skin waiting to spring forth, and jeongguk would be fearful, if protocol didn’t know who he is.

vanguard isn’t known for their technology, and he thrives on that aspect, because people expect him and his databases and his wealth of information even less. he doesn’t know daehyun personally, no, but he knows him through security cameras and stories from people he claims to be friends with just for the information, and through rumors and intel. at the very least, he knows he is an ex-syndicate member with a foolish, inexplicable change of heart.

in truth, he should thank daehyun, because he chased around rumors of the second in command of syndicate, but failed to find a proper answer. it drove him to baratie, and then drove him up a wall when he couldn’t find anymore of the equation, but he’d been so close. daehyun gave him the answer. it didn’t take long for rumors of 12, syndicate’s second in command, being kim seokjin, and being arrested, and getting away, of course, to reach him.

he sighs lightly, and taps his foot, and wonders if he should defect to the spd too, if he sees through more of all of the illusions the crime world brings than anyone in the police department seems to.

“maybe you’re the one that should stop pretending,” he comments with a knowing smile, probably too dangerous for his current location, but he can’t resist it. it falls off his face in a moment, though, replaced by the typical feigned innocence and teenage mischief and desire to pass time.

mixjin

“yeah, lucky.”

he wasn’t pissed off because he had to take some time out of his schedule to beat up a bunch of would-be syndicate bastards who were acting out of line and not like he told them to. he hated it when people below him didn’t have the common sense to listen to their betters. but when he arrived just in time to see them get beaten up by some other upstart neighbourhood gang, he had to intervene – which explained the blood-stained shoes and (even worse!) the red stains on his white pants. it was really the only reason he called jaerim, and not to attend to the barely-breathing assholes on the ground struggling to breathe.

“do you have spare pants, or something? i feel like we’re the same size, and i can’t exactly walk out looking like i shoved my foot in tomato juice.”

“shame they didn’t aim for your face.”

he was truly bemused that was synonymous to the personification of scum had opted for the doctors help. truthfully, jaerim hadn’t known what ‘higher calling’ had entitled him to be within the others grip but he didn’t question it, though he did keep his eye out and was fairly selective in what he said or revealed to the other. alas, his job here was somewhat easy. his gaze flickered to the injuries that had been inflicted by a fairly tenacious man with better things to do-- ah, he couldn’t be bitter, he had a better moral compass than that. his utilities were used and they parted ways, it was a mutual understanding with no emotions involved.

or so he liked to think.

“they’re fine. i’m sure they’ll think of a valid reason to defend their.. self-inflicted injuries, correct?” the connotation in his tone was clear enough to the heaving bodies who were in the process of picking themselves up off the ground with a cacophony of groans. 

a brief smile twitched his bemused lips, turning on his heel to face the other who was patented in such a decorative colour. “i’m six foot five. do you..” he wasn’t even going to ask, the man chuckled to himself. oh the fun of seeing people you’re not too fond of in such positions. 

“yeah, i have a set of jeans in my car.” the male made his way back to his car and fished out a pair of jeans from his bag, then returning to the irritated male. “as much as many would pay for you to strip, you should get inside. besides, i need to look at your knuckles.”

13. “I don’t think your arm is meant to bend like that…”

35. “I prefer doing my killing up close and personal.”

He hardly visits Baratie. The Syndicate presence in the area wasn’t something that made him uneasy, but it’s more so the idea of someone is watching you all the time. Syndicate had always been a gang he had mass hesitations over. The concept of hiding behind cameras and digital advancements was one that made him feel naturally repelled to the idea of visiting this location. But today his anxiety had to wait because the male was kindly sat in the private area, a private space that the owner usually sat in but today Jaerim heeded no warning and waited with a proud smile, his gaze flickering down the menu. Ah. In his mind the entire menu had been a lackluster facade of food that was served in dubious portions and over priced tastes. 

His attention is only piqued when a stern voice demands his attention.

a laugh bubbled from the male’s lips before the pounding in his head halted it. reaching for the painkillers from the drawer on his bedside table, the male tossed the other a pill before swallowing his own. 

“well, the bar happened,” he smirked. the sheets covering the both of them explained enough until the blonde opened his mouth again. “but we didn’t.” his smirk turning into a reassuring smile as he began to leave the comfort of the bed in search for some much needed coffee.