Ship/Member: Jeonghan/Minghao Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: Mentions of blood and murder Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Jeonghan takes a look at the body of the poor sod lying in his bed soaking the sheets with red. There is metal in the air and on his tongue and Jeonghan grimaces as he kicks at the blanket to reveal what Jeonghan was already expecting — two stab wounds, one into a lung and one into a kidney. Whoever did this wanted the man to suffer.
Jeonghan tuts, winding his way around the bed as he takes in the rest of the room. Pristine. Nothing else has been touched and he knows without even trying that he won't find any prints. Even so, it's still too messy for Jeonghan's taste. Too much blood, too much to clean up. The cops need something to do, the memory of a voice whispers in his mind, smug, and Jeonghan can almost smell the the wine.
He gestures for the rest of his team to enter. "Bag him up, and the rest of his stuff too. I'll see you all back at the precinct."
One of the officers, fresh from the academy by the way he looks like he hasn't been completely bled dry, turns to him with wide eyes. Confused and curious. Cute. Jeonghan gives him another month, tops, before he starts looking as dead as the rest of them.
"You're not supervising?" He asks, biting his lip before adding a small, "Sir."
Jeonghan places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes once, before walking past him and out the door without another word.
***
The bar is warm from the close proximity of too many too warm bodies, and he finds himself shrugging off his jacket before he even gets to the counter at the far end.
He's there, of course, silver hair styled to perfection as he sips from a glass of red, swirling the drink in his glass before pressing the rim to his lips. Jeonghan feels like his antithesis; disheveled hair and the smell of a long day's work on him. The furthest thing from perfect. He loosens his tie, pops the top two buttons of his shirt open and settles into the seat beside him anyway.
"Minghao," he says in lieu of a proper greeting and the man grins into his next sip of wine before placing the glass down in a movement too fluid to be real.
"Inspector Yoon," Minghao replies, grin feline as he looks up at Jeonghan from under his lashes. The fire from the candle on the candle reflects in his glasses but Jeonghan swears there is fire in his eyes anyway.
"You're teasing." Jeonghan's voice is low, a warning, even as he smiles at the bartender and asks for a glass of whatever Minghao's having.
Minghao turns towards him, runs his foot up Jeonghan's calf as he meets his eye. "Am I?"
Jeonghan glares at him, batting his foot away. "You're always so messy."
The bartender sets a glass down and Jeonghan takes a sip, allows the wine to warm him from the inside out. Minghao watches every movement he makes, tracks it like a predator does his prey and Jeonghan almost revels in the feeling.
He smiles, saccharine, lips curling sinfully around his glass without taking a sip. "You have to be more specific, Inspector."
"You know what I'm talking about." Jeonghan meets him head on, doesn't cower under a gaze that would have sent braver men than him running. Then again, he'd already run away.
"Do I?" Minghao shifts in his seat so that he's fully looking at Jeonghan now, arm propped against the counter to reveal a glint of silver hidden inside his jacket. "Like I said, you have to be more specific."
"Room five five zero four."
Minghao quirks an amused brow. Jeonghan wants to punch him. "Are you propositioning me, Inspector?"
Jeonghan scowls and Minghao laughs, too light and too airy for a man like him. For a place like this. There's a glint in his eye when he sets his glass down and leans forward to press his lips against Jeonghan's, slim fingers gripping his chin with a strength that would have been unexpected if he wasn't already familiar with it.
He sighs into it and Minghao indulges him, just a bit, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before pulling back slightly. "Five five one zero," he murmurs against his lips before pressing one last kiss there. A card is pressed into his palm and Minghao smiles. "That is how you proposition someone," he says. "Knock twice."
And then he is gone leaving Jeonghan breathless and hotter than he should be. It feels like his heart is slamming against his ribs going two hundred beats per minute and he has to squeeze his eyes shut, count backwards from ten before he can bring himself to look at the card in his hand.
When he can breathe again, and he no longer feels seconds away from combustion, Jeonghan lifts the card up to the candle. He traces along the 5510 etched into its surface. 5510. 5510. The room opposite his crime scene. Fuck.
Ten minutes later he gets up, throws his jacket over his arm and downs the rest of his drink.
FILL: flashes of silver, sheets of red
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Mentions of blood and murder
Permission to remix: Please ask
***
Jeonghan takes a look at the body of the poor sod lying in his bed soaking the sheets with red. There is metal in the air and on his tongue and Jeonghan grimaces as he kicks at the blanket to reveal what Jeonghan was already expecting — two stab wounds, one into a lung and one into a kidney. Whoever did this wanted the man to suffer.
Jeonghan tuts, winding his way around the bed as he takes in the rest of the room. Pristine. Nothing else has been touched and he knows without even trying that he won't find any prints. Even so, it's still too messy for Jeonghan's taste. Too much blood, too much to clean up. The cops need something to do, the memory of a voice whispers in his mind, smug, and Jeonghan can almost smell the the wine.
He gestures for the rest of his team to enter. "Bag him up, and the rest of his stuff too. I'll see you all back at the precinct."
One of the officers, fresh from the academy by the way he looks like he hasn't been completely bled dry, turns to him with wide eyes. Confused and curious. Cute. Jeonghan gives him another month, tops, before he starts looking as dead as the rest of them.
"You're not supervising?" He asks, biting his lip before adding a small, "Sir."
Jeonghan places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes once, before walking past him and out the door without another word.
***
The bar is warm from the close proximity of too many too warm bodies, and he finds himself shrugging off his jacket before he even gets to the counter at the far end.
He's there, of course, silver hair styled to perfection as he sips from a glass of red, swirling the drink in his glass before pressing the rim to his lips. Jeonghan feels like his antithesis; disheveled hair and the smell of a long day's work on him. The furthest thing from perfect. He loosens his tie, pops the top two buttons of his shirt open and settles into the seat beside him anyway.
"Minghao," he says in lieu of a proper greeting and the man grins into his next sip of wine before placing the glass down in a movement too fluid to be real.
"Inspector Yoon," Minghao replies, grin feline as he looks up at Jeonghan from under his lashes. The fire from the candle on the candle reflects in his glasses but Jeonghan swears there is fire in his eyes anyway.
"You're teasing." Jeonghan's voice is low, a warning, even as he smiles at the bartender and asks for a glass of whatever Minghao's having.
Minghao turns towards him, runs his foot up Jeonghan's calf as he meets his eye. "Am I?"
Jeonghan glares at him, batting his foot away. "You're always so messy."
The bartender sets a glass down and Jeonghan takes a sip, allows the wine to warm him from the inside out. Minghao watches every movement he makes, tracks it like a predator does his prey and Jeonghan almost revels in the feeling.
He smiles, saccharine, lips curling sinfully around his glass without taking a sip. "You have to be more specific, Inspector."
"You know what I'm talking about." Jeonghan meets him head on, doesn't cower under a gaze that would have sent braver men than him running. Then again, he'd already run away.
"Do I?" Minghao shifts in his seat so that he's fully looking at Jeonghan now, arm propped against the counter to reveal a glint of silver hidden inside his jacket. "Like I said, you have to be more specific."
"Room five five zero four."
Minghao quirks an amused brow. Jeonghan wants to punch him. "Are you propositioning me, Inspector?"
Jeonghan scowls and Minghao laughs, too light and too airy for a man like him. For a place like this. There's a glint in his eye when he sets his glass down and leans forward to press his lips against Jeonghan's, slim fingers gripping his chin with a strength that would have been unexpected if he wasn't already familiar with it.
He sighs into it and Minghao indulges him, just a bit, nipping lightly at his bottom lip before pulling back slightly. "Five five one zero," he murmurs against his lips before pressing one last kiss there. A card is pressed into his palm and Minghao smiles. "That is how you proposition someone," he says. "Knock twice."
And then he is gone leaving Jeonghan breathless and hotter than he should be. It feels like his heart is slamming against his ribs going two hundred beats per minute and he has to squeeze his eyes shut, count backwards from ten before he can bring himself to look at the card in his hand.
When he can breathe again, and he no longer feels seconds away from combustion, Jeonghan lifts the card up to the candle. He traces along the 5510 etched into its surface. 5510. 5510. The room opposite his crime scene. Fuck.
Ten minutes later he gets up, throws his jacket over his arm and downs the rest of his drink.
He knocks twice.