Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Wonwoo Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: heist au, polygraph tests, weird sexual tension??, wonwoo steps on a pin at one point so warning for pain Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghan leans close to Wonwoo, deft fingers tightening the band around his chest. He smells powdery but sharp. It makes Wonwoo’s breath catch.
“I think it’s too tight,” Wonwoo says.
“It needs to be tight.” Jeonghan moves away, fiddling with some dials on the panel in front of him, then sits back down across the table from Wonwoo. How or where he learnt to administer polygraph tests, Wonwoo has no idea. He would ask, but he knows that Jeonghan won’t tell him.
Jeonghan consults the sheet of questions on his clipboard, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He turns some dials, presses some buttons. Flips to the next pages of questions. Flips back.
Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “Can you hurry up,” he grumbles.
“Perfection takes time,” Jeonghan replies coolly, but he obligingly puts the clipboard down and looks back up at Wonwoo. “Right, we’ll do some diagnostic questions first, shall we?”
He’s asking it like a question, but it’s not. Jeonghan is in control of the test, and Wonwoo is just here because he’s going to have to pass a polygraph before the black market dealers they’re attempting to steal from will let him through to look at the latest priceless painting on Seungcheol’s hit list. And the best way to learn how to pass is to — let Jeonghan do this, apparently.
“This is such a waste of time,” Wonwoo points out, already irritated that he has to sit here and let Jeonghan interrogate him. He can feel his heart rate starting to spike. The needle on the page jumps, leaving a streak of ink in its wake. “These tests don’t even really work.”
“No, they don’t, which is why we can train you to pass them.” Jeonghan smiles at him, close-lipped. Wonwoo wonders if he, too, is annoyed that he has to do this. It’s hard to tell, with Jeonghan. Wonwoo wishes that he could strap the band around Jeonghan’s chest and force him to tell the truth instead.
Jeonghan opens with, “What is your name?”
Wonwoo scowls. “Jeon Wonwoo.”
The needle wobbles. Jeonghan glances at it, then makes a note on his clipboard.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Where were you born?”
“Changwon.”
Jeonghan rattles through the list of questions. He keeps his gaze trained down, occasionally scribbling down a note. Wonwoo wishes Jeonghan would look at him.
“Is this telling you anything?”
Jeonghan looks up at Wonwoo without lifting his head. His gaze is curtained by his fringe, getting a little long now but Jeonghan is too lazy to deal with things as mundane as getting his hair trimmed. Wonwoo likes it long, though. He imagines tucking it behind Jeonghan’s ear. Jeonghan quirks a smile at Wonwoo with one side of his mouth, as if he’s read Wonwoo’s mind. “It’s telling me enough.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know what that means. He’s a little frightened to find out.
Jeonghan laughs. “Don’t be scared,” he says, and Wonwoo remembers abruptly that he’s hooked up to a damn polygraph machine, as if Jeonghan needed any more help reading people. He tries to keep his face blank as he stares at Jeonghan, but the needle wobbles conspicuously against the page. “I’m only teasing, that’s just given me a baseline. I’m going to run through the same questions, and this time I need you to lie.”
Lying doesn’t come naturally to Wonwoo. Not the way it does to Jeonghan. He stumbles over his words, trying to make up untruths. My name is Kwon Soonyoung. I’m eighty years old. I was born on Mars.
“Well done,” Jeonghan says, once they’ve gone through the list again. Wonwoo feels himself flush at the praise. Jeonghan’s eyes flick down towards one of the little dials, and his eyebrow twitches in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything. Wonwoo’s mouth goes dry, his palms starting to feel clammy.
“How long more is this going to take?”
Jeonghan ignores his question. He sets the clipboard down. “Do you have the pin in your foot?” — Wonwoo nods — “Good. Now, I’m going to need you to step on the pin, hard enough that it hurts. The key is to put your body under the same kind of stress, as if you were lying.”
Wonwoo can feel the pin in his shoe, poking against the ball of his foot. He grits his teeth, and shoves his foot into the sharp point. Pain blossoms and radiates up his leg. He sucks in a breath, but keeps still.
Jeonghan’s gaze on him is hot, and heavy. “I’m going to ask you the same questions now,” he says, voice oddly low. This time, he doesn’t consult his clipboard. They’re the same questions they’ve run through before, but as Wonwoo answers them now, he can feel his heart pounding, sweat beading on his temple. The whole time, Jeonghan keeps on looking at him.
“Okay,” Jeonghan says. He watches Wonwoo carefully. “You can lift your foot now.”
Wonwoo does as he’s told, exhaling a sharp breath.
Jeonghan stares at him. Wonwoo might be imagining it, but he seems to be breathing a little hoarsely. “You’re going to need to make it less obvious that you’re in pain.”
“I’ll practise,” Wonwoo replies.
Jeonghan looks away sharply. “New questions now,” he says. “I need you to try and lie.”
Wonwoo nods. He watches Jeonghan flip to the second page of questions. It occurs to him that he and Jeonghan don’t spend much time alone, just the two of them. Jeonghan is usually with Seungcheol and Joshua, scheming their way to the team’s latest haul. And Wonwoo is usually with bane of his life and best friend Soonyoung; Junhui if he deigns to grace them with his presence. It’s not necessarily surprising that he and Jeonghan aren’t the closest, but the thought of it now makes Wonwoo feel oddly morose, like watching a plane take off into the skies and being stuck resolutely on the ground.
“Hyung,” he says, the honorific slipping from his lips before he’s conscious of it, “we should hang out more.”
Jeonghan blinks in surprise, looking up at Wonwoo. Then his gaze darts back down to the polygraph machine, like he’s trying to check if Wonwoo is telling the truth. Wonwoo can’t parse the read-outs, but he can see the needle — holding steady, holding steady.
“I mean it,” Wonwoo says, and he does.
“Oh?” Jeonghan lifts his gaze to Wonwoo again. He arches an eyebrow, cocky and questioning, the way he always is — but Wonwoo can sense the undercurrent of uncertainty there, hovering beneath the surface. “Careful, Wonwoo-yah,” he says, voice lilting, “or I might think that you like me.”
Wonwoo freezes.
Jeonghan is still looking at him, a dark glitter of challenge in his eyes, waiting for what Wonwoo will say. Whether he’ll say something true, or whether he’ll lie.
“Just ask the questions,” Wonwoo says, voice more wobbly than he’d have liked.
Jeonghan drags his gaze away from Wonwoo’s face, almost like he’s reluctant to do it. Wonwoo inhales slowly, and the band around his chest seems to constrict, digging into his flesh.
[FILL] polygraph
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: heist au, polygraph tests, weird sexual tension??, wonwoo steps on a pin at one point so warning for pain
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Jeonghan leans close to Wonwoo, deft fingers tightening the band around his chest. He smells powdery but sharp. It makes Wonwoo’s breath catch.
“I think it’s too tight,” Wonwoo says.
“It needs to be tight.” Jeonghan moves away, fiddling with some dials on the panel in front of him, then sits back down across the table from Wonwoo. How or where he learnt to administer polygraph tests, Wonwoo has no idea. He would ask, but he knows that Jeonghan won’t tell him.
Jeonghan consults the sheet of questions on his clipboard, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He turns some dials, presses some buttons. Flips to the next pages of questions. Flips back.
Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “Can you hurry up,” he grumbles.
“Perfection takes time,” Jeonghan replies coolly, but he obligingly puts the clipboard down and looks back up at Wonwoo. “Right, we’ll do some diagnostic questions first, shall we?”
He’s asking it like a question, but it’s not. Jeonghan is in control of the test, and Wonwoo is just here because he’s going to have to pass a polygraph before the black market dealers they’re attempting to steal from will let him through to look at the latest priceless painting on Seungcheol’s hit list. And the best way to learn how to pass is to — let Jeonghan do this, apparently.
“This is such a waste of time,” Wonwoo points out, already irritated that he has to sit here and let Jeonghan interrogate him. He can feel his heart rate starting to spike. The needle on the page jumps, leaving a streak of ink in its wake. “These tests don’t even really work.”
“No, they don’t, which is why we can train you to pass them.” Jeonghan smiles at him, close-lipped. Wonwoo wonders if he, too, is annoyed that he has to do this. It’s hard to tell, with Jeonghan. Wonwoo wishes that he could strap the band around Jeonghan’s chest and force him to tell the truth instead.
Jeonghan opens with, “What is your name?”
Wonwoo scowls. “Jeon Wonwoo.”
The needle wobbles. Jeonghan glances at it, then makes a note on his clipboard.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Where were you born?”
“Changwon.”
Jeonghan rattles through the list of questions. He keeps his gaze trained down, occasionally scribbling down a note. Wonwoo wishes Jeonghan would look at him.
“Is this telling you anything?”
Jeonghan looks up at Wonwoo without lifting his head. His gaze is curtained by his fringe, getting a little long now but Jeonghan is too lazy to deal with things as mundane as getting his hair trimmed. Wonwoo likes it long, though. He imagines tucking it behind Jeonghan’s ear. Jeonghan quirks a smile at Wonwoo with one side of his mouth, as if he’s read Wonwoo’s mind. “It’s telling me enough.”
Wonwoo doesn’t know what that means. He’s a little frightened to find out.
Jeonghan laughs. “Don’t be scared,” he says, and Wonwoo remembers abruptly that he’s hooked up to a damn polygraph machine, as if Jeonghan needed any more help reading people. He tries to keep his face blank as he stares at Jeonghan, but the needle wobbles conspicuously against the page. “I’m only teasing, that’s just given me a baseline. I’m going to run through the same questions, and this time I need you to lie.”
Lying doesn’t come naturally to Wonwoo. Not the way it does to Jeonghan. He stumbles over his words, trying to make up untruths. My name is Kwon Soonyoung. I’m eighty years old. I was born on Mars.
“Well done,” Jeonghan says, once they’ve gone through the list again. Wonwoo feels himself flush at the praise. Jeonghan’s eyes flick down towards one of the little dials, and his eyebrow twitches in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything. Wonwoo’s mouth goes dry, his palms starting to feel clammy.
“How long more is this going to take?”
Jeonghan ignores his question. He sets the clipboard down. “Do you have the pin in your foot?” — Wonwoo nods — “Good. Now, I’m going to need you to step on the pin, hard enough that it hurts. The key is to put your body under the same kind of stress, as if you were lying.”
Wonwoo can feel the pin in his shoe, poking against the ball of his foot. He grits his teeth, and shoves his foot into the sharp point. Pain blossoms and radiates up his leg. He sucks in a breath, but keeps still.
Jeonghan’s gaze on him is hot, and heavy. “I’m going to ask you the same questions now,” he says, voice oddly low. This time, he doesn’t consult his clipboard. They’re the same questions they’ve run through before, but as Wonwoo answers them now, he can feel his heart pounding, sweat beading on his temple. The whole time, Jeonghan keeps on looking at him.
“Okay,” Jeonghan says. He watches Wonwoo carefully. “You can lift your foot now.”
Wonwoo does as he’s told, exhaling a sharp breath.
Jeonghan stares at him. Wonwoo might be imagining it, but he seems to be breathing a little hoarsely. “You’re going to need to make it less obvious that you’re in pain.”
“I’ll practise,” Wonwoo replies.
Jeonghan looks away sharply. “New questions now,” he says. “I need you to try and lie.”
Wonwoo nods. He watches Jeonghan flip to the second page of questions. It occurs to him that he and Jeonghan don’t spend much time alone, just the two of them. Jeonghan is usually with Seungcheol and Joshua, scheming their way to the team’s latest haul. And Wonwoo is usually with bane of his life and best friend Soonyoung; Junhui if he deigns to grace them with his presence. It’s not necessarily surprising that he and Jeonghan aren’t the closest, but the thought of it now makes Wonwoo feel oddly morose, like watching a plane take off into the skies and being stuck resolutely on the ground.
“Hyung,” he says, the honorific slipping from his lips before he’s conscious of it, “we should hang out more.”
Jeonghan blinks in surprise, looking up at Wonwoo. Then his gaze darts back down to the polygraph machine, like he’s trying to check if Wonwoo is telling the truth. Wonwoo can’t parse the read-outs, but he can see the needle — holding steady, holding steady.
“I mean it,” Wonwoo says, and he does.
“Oh?” Jeonghan lifts his gaze to Wonwoo again. He arches an eyebrow, cocky and questioning, the way he always is — but Wonwoo can sense the undercurrent of uncertainty there, hovering beneath the surface. “Careful, Wonwoo-yah,” he says, voice lilting, “or I might think that you like me.”
Wonwoo freezes.
Jeonghan is still looking at him, a dark glitter of challenge in his eyes, waiting for what Wonwoo will say. Whether he’ll say something true, or whether he’ll lie.
“Just ask the questions,” Wonwoo says, voice more wobbly than he’d have liked.
Jeonghan drags his gaze away from Wonwoo’s face, almost like he’s reluctant to do it. Wonwoo inhales slowly, and the band around his chest seems to constrict, digging into his flesh.
The needle between them trembles traitorously.