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#new detective magazine
atomic-chronoscaph · 1 month
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Just a Kill in the Dark - art by Howard Connolly (1948)
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oakendesk · 8 months
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New Detective Magazine Apr 1953
Norman Saunders
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gameraboy2 · 11 months
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New Detective Magazine, June 1952 Cover by Norman Saunders
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portal-to-the-past · 1 year
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New Detective Magazine - August 1951 // Cover by Rafael DeSoto
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bruceshideout · 1 year
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batbabydaily · 8 months
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detective comics #35: the case of the ruby idol
bruce in his reporter era??
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taxi-davis · 10 months
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Soda Noir by Owen Smith
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feminist-space · 2 months
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"A funny thing happened on the way to the enshittocene: Google – which astonished the world when it reinvented search, blowing Altavista and Yahoo out of the water with a search tool that seemed magic – suddenly turned into a pile of shit.
Google's search results are terrible. The top of the page is dominated by spam, scams, and ads. A surprising number of those ads are scams. Sometimes, these are high-stakes scams played out by well-resourced adversaries who stand to make a fortune by tricking Google[...]
Google operates one of the world's most consequential security system – The Algorithm (TM) – in total secrecy. We're not allowed to know how Google's ranking system works, what its criteria are, or even when it changes: "If we told you that, the spammers would win."
Well, they kept it a secret, and the spammers won anyway.
...
Some of the biggest, most powerful, most trusted publications in the world have a side-hustle in quietly producing SEO-friendly "10 Best ___________ of 2024" lists: Rolling Stone, Forbes, US News and Report, CNN, New York Magazine, CNN, CNET, Tom's Guide, and more.
Google literally has one job: to detect this kind of thing and crush it. The deal we made with Google was, "You monopolize search and use your monopoly rents to ensure that we never, ever try another search engine. In return, you will somehow distinguish between low-effort, useless nonsense and good information. You promised us that if you got to be the unelected, permanent overlord of all information access, you would 'organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.'"
They broke the deal." -Cory Doctorow
Read the whole article: https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task
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satorena · 5 months
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❝ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 ! ❞
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꒰ CONTENT WARNINGS ! ꒱ : explicit content, foul language, intern!reader, businessman!gojo, satoru’s a bit of a pervert in this one, and also really fucking annoying but he’s just in love fr, oral, slight breath play, unprotected sex, breeding. they fuck in an elevator, and i use a lot of italics here, oops!
serena’s note. he’s so fucking insufferable i want him so bad. also this 4.3k words. i’m so sorry.
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oh but of course, since the odds were always against your favour, had you found yourself stuck in this incredulous predicament.
it’d been a long day of enduring misogynistic, narcissistic higher ups and pricks, and you wanted nothing more than to hop in your car and drive off home, hop in bed and sleep.
sounded like an ideal and realistic plan, until the sole purpose of your life’s oppression waltzed in seconds before the elevator’s doors shut, pearly white teeth flashing through a smug grin and icy blues shimmering through dark shades that rested atop his nose bridge.
you huffed, almost at your wit’s end as the elevator’s door automatically reopened at the unwanted presence detected in its sensory, and the tall frame steps in with slow strides and a stupid fucking smile on his lips, hands in the pockets of his slacks, striding as if he stepped out of vogue’s magazine.
“see somethin’ you like, wifey?” satoru chuckled, stepping side to side by your posed frame. why he chose to stand beside in this very unoccupied elevator, you’d never understand but you did know you weren’t going to entertain his bullshit today.
you bit back the insult that rested at the tip of your tongue, “floor?” your index finger hovered over the panel, waiting for him to tell you.
“same as yours,” gojo shrugged, to which you decided on closing the doors instead.
“what business you got on the 2nd floor?” you muttered, suspicions growing at the fact that he coincidentally had shit to do on the same floor as yours.
the boyish smirk he flashed you sent chills down your spine, “whatever business you got on that floor.”
you sighed exasperatedly, soon piecing together that gojo was certainly not going to the second floor to pack his belongings to head home, seeing as he was one of the higher ups that spent longer hours in the office when the interns’ shifts would end.
you pinch the bridge of your nose; “gojo.” you say his name, tone clipped and full of fatigue.
“y/n.” he answers back with your name, a flashy grin baring on thirty two teeth.
you breathe in deeply, reminding yourself to count to ten before you lost your shit. you step near the control panel and press on the main lobby floor, the first, where you decide to send him off. chances were he was heading down there to do his daily flirting with the new secretary hired anyway.
“did ya change your mind?” his voice spawns from right at your ear, and you still in shock at his proximity, noting he’s much closer to you than earlier. “we goin’ to the first floor instead?”
“we are not going anywhere.” you tilt your head to the side, glaring at him through your falsies. he shifts his own head, still fucking smiling, feigning ignorance. “you are going to the first floor, and i’m going to the fifth.”
his smile drops, finally, but at what cost? “why would i do that?” he has the nerve to genuinely sound confused, as if you were the one not making any sense out of this situation.
“why wouldn’t you?” you counter back, lifting an index finger to place atop his forehead, before pushing his head back, “don’t you got better shit to do? like harass a newbie and disguise it as flirting or somethin’?”
“is that not what i’m doing right now?” he jokes, grabbing the finger that pushed him back. you scowl, a bit upset at the fact you walked right into that one.
“besides,” he speaks up, directing your finger towards the control panel once more. “what if i had business on the… seventh floor?”
you furrow your brows, your own eyes watching as he uses your nail to press on the seventh floor button. you try to ignore how warm and soft his hands feel against your, in contrast to the coolness of his rings.
“orrrr,” he drags out, tightening the hold on your hand once more and raising your hand higher on the panel. “what if i had business on the thirteenth floor? maybe the ninth too?”
“gojo.” you warn him, clicking your tongue when realizing what game he’s starting to play at. you definitely don’t feel goosebumps form at your skin hearing his chuckle resonate right in your ear.
“that german intern’s a babe, ain’t she?” he hums pensively, his thumb rubbing circles at the center of your palm. “i might wanna see her too.” he brings your hand to the eight floor and applies enough pressure to see it illuminate.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you get annoyed, attempting to rip your hand away from his hold but fail, when you feel him creep even closer in your bubble, your ass undoubtedly pressing into his crotch.
your eyes widen, half shock half disbelief, a sudden appearance of what seems to be gojo junior stirring awake poking at your short skirt. oh fuck.
“or,” he whispers, minty breath sending jolts of electricity up your back. he drags your hand messily over the panel, about three fourths of the floors illuminating and you know you’re fucked. “maybe i wanna stay stuck in here with you…”
you blink back to reality, dismissing whatever possible emotion you were beginning to feel emerge in your core. with a sharp tug, you manage to free yourself from his grasp and turned on your heel to face the tall bastard.
“i’m gonna need you to back off and instantly—you fuckin’ creep.” you snarl, pointer finger pointing at him accusingly, hoping it sets an exemplary distance between you both.
gojo breaks into laughter, the kind that has his shoulders shaking and has him doubling over as if you’d just told him the world’s greatest joke. you watch him dumbfoundedly, your left eye twitching as he continued to ridicule you.
“fine, fine. sorry princess, i was just teasing.” he pushes his frames up to his hairline, messy strands of hair pushed out the way as he wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eyes.
you roll your eyes, pushing past him to make your way back to where you’d been prior to these stupid events. if you were gonna be stuck on this elevator ride longer than necessary because of the pit stops, you’d simply ignore him and hope he catches the hint.
you stare straight ahead at the elevator door, feeling the ride descend from the twentieth floor downwards. fuck that tall, stupid and rich bastard for dragging this elevator ride past its needed time limit.
from your peripheral, you make out his form leaning forward to catch your straight gaze. you were ignoring him and he knew, “you mad at me?”
you remain quiet, silently praying that at one of these next stops another worker would step in and ease the situation more.
gojo frowns, eyebrows pinched to the center his forehead, “c’mon, i was joking! honest! i really am sorry.”
the silence, safe for the elevator music, answered him everything he needed to know. you were always such difficult nut to crack, but what you failed to acknowledge was the more you pushed him away the more he grew attracted to you.
he sighs, before slinging his arm over your shoulders, dropping most of his body weight onto you. he watches as you nearly stumble from the sudden imbalance, before looking up to him with that adorable pout of yours that he wants to fuck out of you.
oops.
“what now, gojo?” you ask him with so much attitude, your expression bored. “can’t leave me alone for a single fucking elevator ride? you that obsessed with bothering me?”
“you got it all wrong,” gojo shakes his head, snow white tresses shaking with him and his shades falling right back to place on his nose. “i’m not obsessed with bothering you— i’m obsessed with you period. been obsessed since that time you chucked piping hot coffee on my givenchy button down.”
you frown deeply at that, reflecting at how long ago that had been. you knew what kind of guy he was. after all, who hadn’t heard of gojo satoru in this forsaken company? he dipped his dick in anything with a pulse and moved onto the next big thing whenever he got bored—
or so you’ve heard.
you stare at him for a minute, processing his words. he shamelessly stares back at you, now looping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.
“see something you like, wifey?” he repeats himself, his favorite nickname for you making another appearance. you ignore how his hands stroke your bare arms.
you stifle a laugh, snorting incredulously at him before breaking into a full blown laughter. maybe you now understood why gojo had done the same just a little while ago, because the look of offence on his face had made the situation funnier than it was initially.
“what’s funny?! i’m here professing my feelings for you and you’re laughing?!” gojo complains like the manchild he is, dragging syllables and all, rosy lips falling into a pout.
“fuck— i’m sorry, did you think i was gonna believe that?” your laughter dies down, sighing deeply in attempts to catch your breath. “no, seriously, do you take me for an idiot?”
“believe it or not, it’s the truth,” he mumbles, leaning his chin at the top of your skull. “even ask nanamin. been treating him as my walking diary since suguru left.”
you don’t want to think about if that holds any truth or not. you tilt your head up, enforcing eye contact with him, “i think you’re confused. it’s definitely not love, or anything in between. you’re just horny and want to fuck me.”
“well,” he looks down, mouth salivating at the point of view presented of your breast, sitting up in all their glory in your blouse. “i won’t lie and say that isn’t true. but why is it so hard to believe i have feelings for you? i literally am obsessed with you, why else would i deliberately wast time and sit through all twenty floors here with you?”
speaking of, you look at the indicator and notice you’re only at the seventeenth floor. how slow was this damn ride? there’s absolutely no way you’d only been through less three floors this whole time? was time still in this elevator or what?
wait—
“oh shit.” you hear the man cuss. you fear that’s all the confirmation you needed, as your eyes pan towards the control panel and notice all the buttons are illuminating on and off.
silence fills the air, and you’re just realizing the elevator music had stopped playing. your luck bites, you decide, as you reevaluate all you wanted to do; grab your shit from the second floor and go the fuck home.
you try not to freak out, the fear of being trapped in an elevator period catching up to you mixed with anger rising in your blood at the blue eyed freak who’s the sole cause for this unfortunate situation.
“don’t freak out, but like,” he begins to speak, corner of his lips tugging into a sympathetic smile, “we’re definitely stuck here.”
he deserves the punch to the guts he gets.
“you sit your ass on that end of the room,” you push him to one extremity of the elevator. he’s doubled over, groaning in agony at the blow he received. “and i’ll be sitting here. do not, and i cannot stress this enough, talk to me.”
time flies really fucking slowly, you notice as you check your dying phone every five minutes, waiting for the damn maintenance of this place to do their job and get you out of this elevator.
gojo had complied to your demand and hasn’t said a word to you in about twenty minutes. his long legs sprawled across the floor, one leg raised as he rested his arm atop his knee.
you didn’t want to admit it, but you were getting bored. and hungry. very hungry, and uncomfortably hot. did the air conditioning in here cut off too? most likely, damn your life.
you sat as gracefully as you could in your tight skirt and heels, tucking your legs into chest in hopes your shins were covering your inner thighs. though, you weren’t certain if you were doing a good job, judging by the way you could feel gojo’s stare at you behind the shades and the way he shifted in his seat.
he tilts his head to the side, index finger swiping over his nose and he sniffs, “figures you’re the lace type.”
you feel all the fight flee your body, all but exhausted as you bite into whatever he chews. you needs entertainment, even if it came in form of a 6’3 imbecile with an outfit the cost of your rent.
“figures you’ve been staring at my panties this whole time, when else are you ever this quiet?” you clap back, making no motion to switch positions. besides, he was manspreading with his whole boner poking through his slacks and he remained shameless. why couldn’t you?
he smirks, lifting his hand and leaning his cheek in his palm, “i’ve spent the last twenty minutes thinking about the things i’d do to you if you’d let me.”
gojo was so fucking shameless, you hated how it turned you on at times. you must’ve been truly out of it, lack of food in your system or something, because your answer flies out of you almost too naturally, “show me your worst then.”
in the blink of an eye, you both find yourselves back on your feet, your back pressed against the wall of the elevator as your lips mold feverishly with his. gojo kisses you like he’s been wanting to do so for years, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pushing your body tighter against him.
you’re no better, hands flying to the back of his neck and your nails tugging at messy locks. he moans against your lips at a particular tug, one hand slipping past your waist and slides up your thigh. he lifts your leg and wraps it around his hip, applying pressure into the middle of your legs.
“fuck,” you moan softly against pink lips, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. he hums, your bottom lip tucked in his teeth as he pushes up into you once more.
“feel good?” he mumbles against your lips, sneaking a few kisses while awaiting for your response. his hold on your thigh is firm, wanting to hold you in place to keep grinding into you and drawing these pretty sounds out of you.
you nod your head before throwing it back against the wall, to which his lips leave yours to attack at your neck. he’s kissing and licking and nipping at your sensitive skin, leaving dark love bites.
“you fuckin’ teenager,” you complain, knowing he was intentionally marking you in visible areas, so you’d be the next talk of the week. “just had to be there, didn’t it?”
“couldn’t help it,” you feel his smirk against your jugular, to which you roll your eyes. “you smell so fucking good here, shit, i could eat you up— actually…”
you snort as he pulls away from the crook of your neck, and you eye how dishevelled he looks. even with messy hair, saliva streaking his cheeks and swollen lips, he still looked fucking hot.
you don’t have much time to reflect on his beauty because he’s soon kneeling down in front of you, hands creeping up in your skirt and tugging down at your lace undergarment. it slides off your legs with ease, and is soon in his possession, to which he stuffs in his pockets.
“i will.” he finally completes his sentence, lifting your leg over his shoulder.
he holds a firm grip on your thigh as your skirt hikes up, and he feasts. his lips latch onto your lower ones and slurps up your juices. his tongue swipes at your wet folds, moaning at the taste, which drives you to mush.
you throw your head back, hands coming in contact with his tresses, expressing the delight you feel through the tugs at his hair. whenever you’d pull hard at his hair, he’d moan into your cunt, which would result in making you moan louder and pull harder, and the cycle repeats.
“f-fuck, hah—gojo,” you whine when you feel a single digit prod into your pussy. he multitasks with fucking you open with his finger while sucking at your clit and lapping up your juices.
“shit, mhm, keep going,” you push his head deeper into your legs, momentarily forgetting you’re cutting out his breathing circulation.
you then realize he truly doesn’t mind, as his eyes roll to the back of his skull and moans even more sinfully into your dripping pussy.
it didn’t take much more than a few extra fingers to drive you over the edge, and you spray your essence in his mouth as he happily swallows every single drop you offer to him. your thighs quake and you feel yourself lose balance but he makes sure to hold you still.
you ride your high on his face, breathing heavily as you come down from your orgasm. he pulls away from in between your legs, breathing heavily with a smitten smile on his lips. “bon appétit,” he jokes, using the back of his hand to wipe himself clean.
you snort at his childishness, “shut up and gimme a moment to return you the favour.”
and just like that, you find yourself now kneeling and gojo hovered over you. he stretched his arm to hold himself up against the wall while simultaneously watching you swallow his cock whole.
now, all cocky shit aside, gojo was nowhere near small sized. he packed a big one, and the fact that you were so confidently gobbling him up, head bobbing up and down on his length, hands twisting and jerking whatever you failed to reach.
“fuckfuckfuck—shiiit, dammit y/n, your mouth feels fuckin’ amazing,” gojo whines pathetically, leaning his forehead against the cool wall.
it unintentionally forces his tip deeper in your throat and you gag around him, throat constricting around his dick and fuck if his knees hadn’t buckled.
you knew gojo was a spontaneous man, so him suddenly reaching the back of your head and pushing you deeper on his dick shouldn’t have surprised you. you were now deepthroating him as he praised you endlessly, telling you how perfect you were taking him, how warm and tight your mouth felt, how he was going to cum if you kept playing with his balls.
when he does nut, your nose reaches his pubic hairs, curly white hairs ticking you as you inhale his musk in attempt to force yourself to suppress your gag. he cums a riverbank down your throat and naturally you swallow it all, pulling off him when he finishes and seeing a string of cum and saliva connect his blushing pink tip to your lips.
“fuck,” he chuckles breathlessly, hand laying atop of your head and patting your hair gently before sliding down to your jaw. his thumb strokes your skin, “come up here, wanna kiss you again.”
“sap.” you tease but lift yourself, knees wobbly but you manage.
you’re back to standing, and your hands quickly find themselves back to his nape, threading your fingers gently through his hair. he kisses you much less rushed but instead takes his time, savours the taste of him on your tongue as you taste yourself on his.
the kiss is sensual and sloppy, drool pooling at the corner of your lips as he kisses you like his lifeline depends on it. his hands slip at your ass, grabbing the mounds with handfuls.
he pulls away just slightly, wording against your lips “jump.”
you comply, jumping and he catches you gracefully, showing no signs of struggle. you wrap your legs around his waist and proceed to kiss him again, your back coming in contact with the wall. you feel him grind his hardening dick against your bare pussy, and if you had half your regular mind, you’d have been embarrassed by how badly you were dripping over him.
“‘m gonna fuck you now,” gojo mumbles against your lips, lips peppering kisses at the corner of your saliva coated mouth. “that good with you, princess?”
you give him a flat look, fingers still carding through his soft locks. “use your thinking skills and guess.”
he smiles at you, almost too sincere and raw, and you feel your eyes shy away from his gaze, focusing instead at the beauty mark marked at the base of his neck. “hey, consent is sexy, meanie.”
“the sexiest,” you feed into his bite, giggling when you feel him nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck. his crown of hair tickles at your skin. “now hurry up.”
you surely don’t have to tell him twice as he pulls out of your neck and grabs the base of his dick, placing his tip at your pulsating hole and pushes inside.
the synchronization of both your moans blend into each others, as your gaze on one another never breaks. he watches you intently, blue eyes narrowing into your facial reactions, wanting to memorize every twitch of muscles in case this was ever his last opportunity to.
“mmhm—yes, baby,” you claw at his back, eyes droopy and hazy as he thrusts into you at a slow yet intense pace. if gojo noticed the term of endearment you slipped up, he made no show in pointing it out, and you were thankful.
the stretch of his cock at your pussy sent a fiery feeling spreading towards all of your limbs. the squelching of your pussy tightening and clenching at his dick filling the room. he soon picked up his pace, railing into you with every fibre in his body, loving the way your body bounced up in reaction to his thrusts.
he fucked you into that wall, dug so deep into your cunt you were sure you felt him in your stomach. well no wonder why women were obsessed with him, he was definitely a pleaser. a stinging bitter feeling momentarily crawled up your throat before dissipating when you caught his eyes staring at you with something you’d usually refer to as admiration.
“god, this pussy is heaven fucking sent—never had anythin’ like it—oh shit baby, gotta have more of this— gotta have more of you, please y/n—need this all the fuckin’ time,” he praised you like it was the only thing he knew how to do.
he was a verbal man, you knew, but it amplified during sexual activities. you shamefully moaned at every praise he threw at you, pussy clenching at his dick, warmth oddly settling in your chest. you scratched at his back, he bit into your shoulders, nipped at your lips and rammed your core.
in little to no time, you felt that tide of pleasure washing over you, your cervix unable to take anymore of his tip bullying into it.
“gojo, fuckkk, ‘m so fucking close!” you mewl brokenly, as tears stream down your cheeks from the overriding pleasure.
“satoru,” he breathes out, his name falling straight within earshot. his hips never give up, but his request is asked based off raw emotions, “call me satoru—please,”
your mind is running miles a minute, the tightening of your gut on the brink of snapping and spraying your dam yet again all over him.
he whimpers with his nose pressed at your jugular, his grip on your thighs so tight your bound to have bruises form soon, and your back begins to ache from repeatedly being pushed up against an uncomfortable surface.
but fuck, you were so fucking close.
“hnng—satoru!” you cry as your orgasm washes over you, rakes through your body from head to toe, muscles spasming in his hold.
you leak like a faucet, and he follows suit, moaning your name all brokenly, whimpering and whining in your ear as he pumps your pussy full of his cum. for a split second you feel your bodies merge into one, the orgasm so intense you almost forgot just who and where this was happening.
eventually, you both ride down from your highs, and satoru places you down to your feet, though never pulling out of you. his dick is snug in your warm walls, and he’s tempted to stay like this for longer, until you decide to speak.
“c’mon big guy, pull out.” you tap at his chest gently, pulling him out of his daydream. “we have no idea when maintenance’ll show up.”
he blinks slowly, nodding as he acknowledges your words. it’s almost a damn miracle they hadn’t shown up while satoru was fucking you, but now that the lust had faded away, you almost felt ashamed of yourself.
“yeah just— gimme a second.” he breathes to himself, silently wishing he’d been able to bask in the aftercare with you a little longer. he guesses he should’ve known better than to expect such in an elevator of all places.
you remain quiet and he hates it. did you regret it already? is he back to square one with you?
you bite your lip, “goj— satoru.”
he perks his head up and you swear you see his ears wiggle as if he were a dog. his eyes shimmer with hope and you don’t think he’s ever looked this pretty before, “what’s up?”
“i’m gonna need my panties back, you know.” you nod your head towards his pocket where your lace undergarments were stuffed. “they were my favorite.”
“what a shame, guess you’ll have to grab it another day.” he sighs dramatically, feigning despair. giggling, you feel his fingers drum at your bare waist, “say, maybe friday night around 7pm at your place?”
“guess i have no other choice, do i?” you sigh just as dramatically, pulling him closer by the collar of his wrinkly white button down. he grins so widely your cheeks hurt for him, or maybe they hurt for yourself as you reflected his grin.
“i don’t make the rules baby.”
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this was definitely rushed but leave me alone 🖐🏾.
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osheamobile · 1 year
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Reasons why the Benoit Blanc movies work so well
They are about women of color with everyday jobs (nurse, teacher)
These women are treated terribly by rich assholes in completely pedestrian and everyday ways that women of color with everyday jobs are treated in real life
These women get extremely cathartic justice in the end
The movie does not star Benoit Blanc, he is merely the driving vehicle for the mystery
He is barely a character, he is a plot device.
All we learn about Benoit Blanc in the first movie is:
He is a famous detective
He was so famous he was on magazines
Literally everyone knows who he is because of previous mysteries he has solved
These previous mysteries are not explained or even given any details, all we know is that they happened and he got famous for them
He has a kind heart
He has a Southern accent that continually shifts back and forth across the Delta
This is neither explained nor commented on
All we learn about Benoit Blanc in the second movie is:
He lives with a partner (marital status unknown) who is
A: British
B: Done with his shit
C: Trying to learn how to make sourdough starter in the pandemic
He plays Among Us with celebrities
He is very bad at mystery games such as Among Us and Clue
That’s it. That’s all we learn about him.
This is fantastic because these new details provide zero additional context to the unexplained force of nature that is Benoit Blanc, he just strolls into someone else’s movie, tells them they are good people, and gives them closure against rich assholes.
It is not Benoit Blanc’s movie. It is a movie with Benoit Blanc in.
The movies are mysteries with lots of twists and turns but they never make the audience feel stupid. This is because
All of the twists are foreshadowed by scenery details, camera angles, and other things deliberately left in the shot.
This rewards both the keen-eyed and the additional rewatchers
All of these twists are extremely well hidden on the first viewing
This rewards those who enjoy trying to work it out and enjoying them as they come
The correct reaction to guessing twists before they happen is that they were very well foreshadowed, not that the writers weren’t good enough at tricking the viewers, like some writers who put in twists that are completely out of left field and unsupported by the previous text because they don’t want their audience to guess.
Ben Shapiro didn’t understand the second one, which is just a nice bonus.
The fucking. Cameos. Are delightful, not hackneyed.
The fucking cinnamon tography.
Every camera angle is a masterpiece. Every still frame is a painting.
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oakendesk · 9 months
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New Detective Magazine Apr 1952
Norman Saunders
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gameraboy2 · 1 year
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New Detective Magazine, January 1942 Cover by Norman Saunders
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portal-to-the-past · 1 year
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New Detective Magazine - January 1942 // Cover artist unknown
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dreaming-medium · 4 months
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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Praise Kink - Hyunjin
Word Count: 11.7K
Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.
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You have officially run out of red string. 
The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore. 
Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case. 
It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing. 
It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught. 
But these sort of things take time. 
And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one. 
Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one. 
Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board. 
“Come in!” You call out. 
The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor. 
“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”
Your mood curdles like milk. 
“What do you want, Hwang?”
Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.  
Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to. 
The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met. 
He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against. 
“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.” 
The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe. 
You haven’t even finished going through the last stack. 
“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”
You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face. 
He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks. 
Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it. 
“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.” 
Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers. 
Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board. 
He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment. 
The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall. 
What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point. 
Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep. 
Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?
Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface. 
He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him. 
“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”
His mouth shuts, a smirk appears. 
Oh, you want to smack it off his face. 
“I was only going to say—“
“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away. 
“L/N—“ he tries again. 
“Shut it!”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door. 
You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him. 
He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack. 
“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice. 
A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door. 
It shuts before the cup makes contact. 
Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more. 
You slam your head down onto the wood desk. 
“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”
---------------------------------------
“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”
You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled. 
Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute. 
He hums and leaves the room. 
You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them. 
About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate. 
To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.
The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short. 
As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks. 
The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns. 
Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body. 
The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases. 
“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair. 
Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 
You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt. 
You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.
“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”
You deflate. 
“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”
Your jaw clenches. 
So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it. 
And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it. 
“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”
You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.” 
“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”
“Detective Lee?”
“Busy.”
“Officer Yang?”
“He’s not even a detective.”
“What about Detective Seo?”
Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side. 
You sink back in the chair. 
“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”
“Zip it, Hwang.”
Hyunjin scoffs. 
Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”
You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.
“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”
Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you. 
It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t. 
“Fine.”
“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”
He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair. 
“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”
He makes his way towards the door. 
“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”
You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile. 
“Best of luck, detectives.”
---------------------------------------
The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth. 
Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now. 
You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail. 
College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there. 
Each victim is about two weeks apart. 
A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon. 
Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—
“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”
Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”
He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”
You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.  
“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”
Her autopsy stares up at you. 
“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”
You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details. 
“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”
Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue. 
Plates clatter in the kitchen.  
Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file. 
“You said they all go to the same school?”
“Yeah, the community college.”
“Did they all study the same thing?”
You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”
Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window. 
Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”
“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear. 
You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff. 
“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”
Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?
Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look. 
He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.
“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”
You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?
The golden child strikes again. 
“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”
He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table. 
Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”
If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head. 
“So do you have a list—“
You interrupt him. “Yeah.”
“Can you—“
“Mhmm.”
You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table. 
“Where are you going?” He asks you. 
“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”
Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”
You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him. 
“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”
“Tomorrow? But what about—“
“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom. 
“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”
“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”
The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced. 
Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward. 
“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”
He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face. 
And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out. 
“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind. 
---------------------------------------
Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door. 
You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow. 
The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM. 
“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now. 
The knocking persists.
With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door. 
You flip on a light on your way there. 
Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour. 
You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it. 
“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment. 
“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again. 
Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island. 
“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”
“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”
He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath. 
His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow. 
It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top. 
“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere. 
You come up to the table and look down at everything. 
Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here. 
You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.
It’s going to be a long night.
“I’ll make coffee.”
---------------------------------------
Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.
After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly. 
He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”
Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal. 
Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule. 
Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule. 
“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”
“Which class?”
“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”
“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.
“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”
Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”
You pull out a sticky note and write down that info. 
“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”
Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”
---------------------------------------
You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass. 
A near ninety year old man sat on the other side. 
“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence. 
“So.”
“It can’t be him.”
“Obviously.”
Another long moment of silence. 
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”
You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely. 
They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee. 
“My case. I’ll do it.”
“ Our case.”
“Shut it, Hwang.”
You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm. 
The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners. 
You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”
Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever. 
Arthritis. 
“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”
You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”
He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”
He shakes his head. 
“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”
You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”
Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”
You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.
“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass. 
“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”
He shifts around, he really thinks about it. 
“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”
You scribble that down and stand up. 
“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”
He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”
“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card. 
You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving. 
When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around. 
You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
---------------------------------------
Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration. 
They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier. 
It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island. 
Another pot of coffee is brewing. 
“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes. 
You run your hands through your hair. 
“So, four graduate students.”
“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’. 
“Do we have any information on the four students?”
“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”
You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”
A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in. 
“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file. 
“I agree.”
He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”
“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”
“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”
You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”
He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”
Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”
“Oh.”
Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”
Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”
Is he serious?
You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”
“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”
“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”
Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”
“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. 
Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?
“Choke.”
Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly. 
“Detective L/N.” 
“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear. 
Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.
“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”
“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad. 
“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand. 
“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues. 
“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper. 
Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again. 
Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”
Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly. 
Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone. 
“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes. 
“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”
“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away. 
“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely. 
“I’m doing very well, thank you.”
You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.
The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”
“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time. 
You sneer and push his face away. 
“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up. 
Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin. 
“You could've put it on speaker.” 
“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him. 
Hyunjin only laughs and catches it. 
“Putting more coffee on?”
“Obviously.”
---------------------------------------
“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you. 
While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well. 
The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle. 
You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything. 
The exams spread over the table were the best lead. 
“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief. 
“Eric Rowan.” 
“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off. 
“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”
Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something. 
You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?
Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”
He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision. 
The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening. 
It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home. 
“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly. 
One tutor from the library at the university. 
It would make sense. 
Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included. 
You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead. 
One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.  
It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time. 
Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions. 
You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside. 
Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time. 
Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up. 
“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”
Your head snaps up and you sniffle. 
“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse. 
He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”
You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.” 
Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more. 
“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.
“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”
You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”
The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before. 
Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall. 
“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”
You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood. 
You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before. 
With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”
For the first time, you have no response for him. 
As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill. 
Your lips stay sealed. 
“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”
Your mind is reeling. 
Did he just compliment you again?
Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips. 
“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”
A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.
“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”
There’s no way he said that. 
He’s jealous of you?
And did he just call you by your first name?
He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once. 
“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”
Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door. 
“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”
He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned. 
He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared. 
Nothing. 
You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time. 
But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him. 
Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms. 
Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought? 
Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often. 
---------------------------------------
Hours and hours and hours have gone by. 
Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours. 
The bags under your eyes feel like bruises. 
Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass. 
Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets. 
His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes. 
He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve. 
You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.
If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated. 
Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table. 
“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table. 
“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”
“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”
“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”
Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file. 
Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”
He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps. 
“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing;  I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”
Eric’s eye twitches. 
Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook. 
“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”
Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat. 
Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward. 
Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden? 
Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently. 
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”
Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”
Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie. 
“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”
So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression. 
“No,” he grits out. 
An obvious lie.
“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”
Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture. 
“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”
You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror. 
Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.
More pieces fall into place. 
“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth. 
Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head. 
“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”
“That’s not—“
“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”
“I-I didn’t—“
“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.
Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping. 
“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath. 
Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it. 
It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue. 
“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”
“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table. 
He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table. 
Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on. 
“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”
Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.
“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table. 
A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene. 
“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate. 
Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving. 
“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs. 
The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists. 
“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”
Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric. 
“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”
“Stop, stop!”
“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”
“ Stop! ”
“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”
Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs. 
“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“
“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”
The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt. 
Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff. 
And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window. 
It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen. 
“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”
He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric. 
Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair. 
Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water. 
Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.
---------------------------------------
It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks. 
Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over. 
Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case. 
Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case. 
So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it. 
More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath. 
There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks. 
“Come in, Hwang!” you call out. 
The door opens and shuts. 
“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.
You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly. 
His soft footsteps pad up behind you. 
“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder. 
You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”
Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was. 
You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop. 
Hyunjin doesn’t move. 
“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice. 
Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest. 
“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”
Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”
“Hm?”
“What did you think of the interrogation?”
So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier. 
But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus. 
“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”
He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter. 
Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline. 
“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”
Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?
The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago. 
He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne. 
“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”
“ We got the guy, L/N.”
“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”
He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it. 
“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”
Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock. 
Fuck. 
Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever. 
His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model. 
You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens. 
“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”
The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”
He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands. 
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling. 
“Yes. But they’re not you. ”
Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more. 
But does he really?
Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no. 
Nothing of the sort tumbles out. 
The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring. 
His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.
Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain. 
The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze. 
Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you. 
A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively. 
“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”
How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?
A small boost of confidence courses through your veins. 
“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.
Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss. 
He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless. 
Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.
“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips. 
You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight. 
Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body. 
At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.
“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”
Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch. 
“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.
Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all. 
Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.” 
Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”
Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head. 
Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.
“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”
His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale. 
You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches. 
“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.
You smirk. “You can.”
When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light. 
From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.
He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.
You chuckle.
“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”
Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.
He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver. 
Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.
“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.
One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.
His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.
Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.
“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”
The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity. 
“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”
Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple. 
You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans. 
Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact. 
The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane. 
“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest. 
When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting. 
“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”
His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him. 
With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again. 
You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another. 
“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”
He whines.
“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”
Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions. 
“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm. 
The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash. 
His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck. 
Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey. 
Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.
Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.
Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.
Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build. 
“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”
Your heart thuds in your chest. 
He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.
The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly. 
Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.
He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.
Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.
Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.
An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.
Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.
Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”
He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you. 
With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock. 
Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch. 
“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”
Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder. 
The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.
A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.
“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”
Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.
It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .
One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.
Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus. 
With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his. 
He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.
You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.
Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.
Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit. 
Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.
“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”
Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.
Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.
“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”
“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.
“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”
He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers. 
“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.
Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?
“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane. 
His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch. 
“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock. 
The head is red and angry and weeping precum.
His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”
Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.
He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time. 
You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back. 
“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck. 
Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.
He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response. 
“ Please! ” He whimpers. 
“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear. 
Another stutter of his hips.
“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”
Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.
“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”
Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance. 
To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.
“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”
After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact. 
“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”
You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.
“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”
His face twists up with another moan. 
Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you. 
While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.
Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.
“I-I’m not going to last–”
You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”
His eyes practically roll back in his head.
As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,
He might not be thick but god, he is long .
With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.
Both of you moan out together.
Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.
The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.
Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you. 
“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.
Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.
“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”
With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.
His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.
A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.
If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.
“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!” 
Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.
“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face. 
“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.” 
Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?
“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”
Oh, fuck.
You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.
Closer and closer you come to the edge.
He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more. 
He needs it so bad. 
“Y/N! Please! ”
Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.
“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”
The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans. 
His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down. 
Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.
Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.
He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.
Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.
After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones. 
The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before. 
“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.
He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.
“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”
He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”
You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.
In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.
There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.
Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”
You couldn’t agree more.
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Steal Your Heart (Part 1)
When the calling card of the infamous Knave of Hearts arrives, he’ll rob his victims blind of their most treasured items on the appointed date. Enter ace detective Yuu accompanied by rookie cop Deuce Spade, both seeking to apprehend the Knave and bring him to justice.
Will they succeed, or will the phantom thief steal their valuables--and their hearts--first?
This was originally meant to be one fic, but it was getting to be WAY too long. I decided to split it in half and release this part now and the second part (which I am still working on!) later. This first part focuses more on Yuu and Deuce; the second part will be more Yuu and Ace.
(Please note: there are slight romantic implications in the form of an Ace/Yuu/Deuce love triangle, but those elements could also be interpreted as platonic or as just playful teasing with no additional meaning. It’s all in the eyes of the reader!)
Imagine this...
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The police station’s waiting room was a familiar sight.
With time, the shiny checkered floor had grown matte, marred with scratches and scuffs from the boots that crossed it on a daily basis. Someone had taken to attempt to pretty up the otherwise dull space by hanging out abstract paintings on the cream-colored walls, and a vase of white roses dripping with red paint at the check-in desk. There was as even a glass tank which housed a small family of colorful hedgehogs.
Maybe they were meant to be welcoming—but really, they were more clashing than anything. Certainly not a fit for the stiff atmosphere of the station.
Still the fluorescent lightbulbs buzzed faintly, flickering in and out on occasion. The sound distracted from the old television mounted in a corner to entertain guests. It seemed to play commercials on a loop more often than it played actual shows. Currently, an Olympus Corp. branded tablet was being toted as the next big technological marvel—though the TV’s audio was fuzzy at best, and the image half static.
A coffee table pushed to the wall, stacked with a new stash of magazines. Whoever updated the reading materials—most likely the friendly senior officer with orange waves for hair—was into the latest trends, often selecting fashion magazines with high gloss finishes. A dangerously beautiful man graced the covers of many of them, dressed in the hottest summertime styles while looking the part of an untouchable ice queen.
As usual, the station was scented with coffee and tea, the beverages of choice for many officers burning the midnight oil or working overtime. The chief demanded it at times to meet deadlines and goals—he was such a stickler for them—and the caffeine helped those under him stay sane as they went about their duties.
In the afternoons, most were either out on lunch or on patrol, lessening the foot traffic at HQ. There was only one man in uniform, seated behind the desk and filing some papers.
Yuu shifted in their own chair, adjusting the rim of the baseball cap upon their head. They were suited in an inconspicuous jacket and sneakers, fingers toying with a badge in a pocket, hidden out of view. To the common man, they were a jogger--but one flash of their lilac gemstone bound to a black and white striped ribbon, and there would be no doubt as to what their true identity was.
The smell of coffee and tea grew stronger, and Yuu glanced up from behind the bill of their hat.
The bespectacled man from behind the fro
nt desk had approached. He had a sheepish smile, bearing a paper cup filled with hot brown liquid and a napkin with a donut laid upon it. Bright pink icing dusted with sugared violet petals crowned the golden fried pastry.
“Detective.”
“Mr. Clover.” Yuu nodded—a terse, polite greeting. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Please, just ‘Trey’ is fine.” He offered the treats, which they readily accepted. “Sorry for calling you in on such short notice. I’m sure you’re busy juggling your other cases—but I think I speak for the entire department when I say we’re thankful that you were able to make it.”
“No worries, I’m used to it in this line of work,” Yuu replied. “It must be something pretty urgent this time around. The Chief sounded frantic over the phone.”
Trey rubbed at his chin, grasping for the right words. “Let’s just say he’s not in the best of moods right now. You’ll need that sugar to get through this in one piece.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“Just trying to avoid any trouble. You’d better finish them before you step into his office. You know how he hates it when there are crumbs or spills in there.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Yuu gave a joking salute before starting to pack away at their snack. The drink was the instant kind, and practically scalding, but it was easy to tell that the donut was homemade. The pastry, flaky on the outside and fluffy on the inside, dusted with sugar granules and sweet icing. “Wouldn’t want the Chief to be blowing a fuse again.”
“No, definitely not. He’s done too much of that lately.” Trey carefully eyed Yuu’s donut, now only half of it left. “Oh, but be sure to brush your teeth a thorough cleaning tonight, or I might have some problems with you. Cavities and staining are real dangers, you know.”
“Are you Assistant Chief of Police or my dental hygienist?” Yuu took a generous swig, then a bite just as big. “You worry too much about everything.”
“Ahahah… Do I? It’s a habit, I guess. Comes with the job.”
“That stressful, huh?”
“Well, I do what I can to smooth things over. Hopefully you can too. It’s been difficult on our department with the Chief all rattled up about the… situation.” He stopped himself. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it from him.”
So the case is top-secret, Yuu concluded with the last of their donut. Not to be discussed in the public.
They ran their tongue across the length of their mouth, lapping up the remains of sugary residue. “I understand. The details are not to leave his office.”
“You catch on quickly. No wonder why the Chief thinks so highly of your abilities.”
“Flattery’s a part of your tool kit as well, Trey?”
He raised his eyebrows. “… You’ve worked long enough with us to figure these things out. Nothing gets by you, it seems.”
“UGIGIGIGIGGGGHHHH!!”
The remainder of Yuu’s drink sloshed around in its cup, set into motion by the bloodcurdling scream.
A familiar man with orange waves erupted from the chief’s office, hurriedly slamming the door shut behind him. His typically relaxed features were arranged in panic, his hair frazzled.
“How did trying to calm him work out, Cater?” Trey inquired half-heartedly. It was a courtesy more than genuine curiosity.
“What do you think?” the senior officer groaned, sinking where he stood.
Yuu quickly finished their drink, tossing their trash—the evidence they had been there—away and then stood, adjusting their jacket. “That sounds like it’s my cue.”
“Yeah, it is.” Trey sighed, frowning. “He’s in a tough spot right. Be kind to him, will you? That’s all I ask.”
“You got it.” Yuu tipped their baseball cap as they passed the officer. “Thank you for the pick-me-up. I’ll be seeing you, then. Officer Diamond—get some rest.”
“Good luck.”
“You’ll need it, Yuu-chan! Brace yourself.”
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The Police Chief was a small but serious man.
His character came through in his office space: books on law and order neatly arranged on shelves, papers and files alphabetically organized in their cabinets, and pens evenly spaced apart and arranged in rows. A crystal vase with deep red roses was poised beside his writing implements. A plate polished to a fine shine was propped up at his desk, reading: Riddle Rosehearts, Chief of Police.
Perched imposingly despite his short stature in his seat, he impatiently tapped a finger on an arm. Riddle’s face was a telltale red and veiny, proof of his earlier outburst, but was beginning to cool into a faint, smooth pink.
There was already another man in the office, sitting across from the Police Chief. He was pale and jittery in a suit the color of the night and sewn with blue sequins and glitter. A top hat rested upon his raven locks, the brim of it shading his hauntingly golden eyes.
Yuu removed their hat and, keeping it to their chest, gave a shallow bow as they entered. “Sir.”
One move out of line, one hair out of place, and they suspected he, in his volatile and vulnerable state, would explode anew.
“Welcome, Detective. I’m glad you could join us today.” Every word was a gruff puff of air, a leash with which to wrest control of his rage. Riddle gestured to the empty chair beside the nervous man. “Sit.”
Yuu obeyed, sinking into the seat offered. They casted a glance at the stranger adjacent to them, who was fiddling with his velvet-lined gloves.
“Mr. Crowley, this is the independent detective from Stray Cat Investigations that I had previously mentioned to you. The force has collaborated with them for a number of difficult cases in the past. Their wit and strategic skills have made them an invaluable asset. I thought it prudent to have them return to join us for your case as well.
“Yuu, meet Dire Crowley. He is the esteemed director and curator for the Sage’s Island Museum, and he’s come to us with his woes.”
“Hello, Mr. Crowley,” Yuu said politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He responded with a tired attempt at a smile. “Yes, you too.”
“Now that we’re all acquainted with one another...” Riddle produced a file from beneath his desk and placed it before himself. “Do you care to explain, or shall I?”
“I-I’ll elaborate!” Crowley crowed. He picked at a collection of keys belted to his waist, glistening gold under artificial lights. “The Sage’s Island Museum is planning a new exhibition on the Great Seven. As part of the exhibit, we are having many priceless artifacts flown in from all over Twisted Wonderland. We have donations from even Briar Valley’s royal family!!
“There will also be a great number of important VIP guests present for the grand opening of the exhibit. Royalty, wealthy benefactors, important diplomats, businessmen, celebrities... All individuals who wish to see their history on display! This is very important, you see!! M-My reputation--er, I mean, the museum’s reputation--is on the line here!!”
“Right.” Yuu nodded as they parsed through the information. “I’m following what you’re putting down. And where does your problem arise, Mr. Crowley?”
“Ah, now that,” Riddle smirked, “is the question of the hour.”
He opened his file, pulling out...
A single playing card, its back facing Yuu.
“I trust you’ve been keeping up with the news?”
“As any good detective would. There have been several robberies lately. Terrible, really.” Yuu’s expression clouded with concentration. “Hmm... but if it’s a potential robbery that you’re concerned about, Mr. Crowley... Doesn’t the Sage’s Island Museum boast a state-of-the-art security system from Olympus Corp.? I doubt the average thief would be able to bypass it.”
“That’s just the trouble,” Crowley loudly lamented.
“We are dealing with no ordinary thief,” Riddle clarified.
“It’s not?”
“No. Far from it.” The Police Chief exhaled sharply. “The string of robberies from before--they’re connected by a single thread, perpetuated by the same lone culprit. And now that scoundrel intends to continue his crime spree.”
“I’ve never heard of this before.”
“You shouldn’t have. It was a top-secret operation within my force since the first of its kind.”
“Why am I being told of it now?”
“Because, loathe as I am to admit it, the culprit has managed to outwit us and elude capture each and every time, He employs a bag of cheap parlor tricks and smoke and mirrors like the coward he is,” Riddle confessed begrudgingly. The blue-grey of his eyes were steely and stubborn. “A case as important as this needs the additional man—and brain—power, Detective.”
He placed the playing card down and slid it toward the detective. “This arrived in the morning at Mr. Crowley’s desk, the same as all the prior robberies. It gave him quite the fright. He rushed all the way to the station to beg for our assistance.”
“This is...” Yuu gingerly turned the card over, revealing a message scrawled on the other side in bright red gel ink. Each letter was big and bubbly, bursting with cheek and pomp.
Their heart jumped.
To the Old Crow that safeguards the Museum,
Heyo~
Your pockets look a lil’ heavy there, so I’ll help you out. (Aren’t I so kind?) Three days from now, I’ll claim one of your most prized treasures at the stroke of midnight.
Stand back and watch as I perform the greatest magic trick you’ll ever see... and make the portrait of the Queen of Hearts vanish before your very eyes. It’ll be a show-stopper!!
Until then,
Phantom Thief Knave of Hearts <3
P.S. Send the cops my regards, they can’t catch me lol (especially when their teapot tyrant’s patience is in SHORT supply geddit)
“They’re just flat-out announcing what their intentions are,” Yuu realized. They were half impressed, half shocked at the gall. “You said all of the victims received messages like this?”
“Calling cards, yes.” The fury had returned to Riddle’s features, causing his voice to spike and strain. “It’s infuriating!! What does he get off on, misappropriating magic as cheap parlor tricks for crime, writing notes in such a cocksure manner, taunting us to pursue him?!
“Not only is he poking fun at my height and committing a crime, but for mere SPORT?! For the THRILL of it?! He’s making a mockery of the good people of this island and of my men and our efforts to secure the peace!!”
The Police Chief slammed a fist down on his desk, rattling his glass vase and setting his perfectly straight pens askew. Crowley shrunk back in fear. “That Knave of Hearts...!! He must be stopped at all costs!!”
“Y-Yes, absolutely!!” Crowley chimed in. “For my--er, I mean, for the museum’s sake, this criminal must be put behind bars!! That’s why I’ve come to you, my good people!
“My taxpayer dollars help fund the police force, so I’ve come to collect on what its promise to protect and to serve the community!! Well, here’s the community at your doorstep asking you to protect and to serve!!”
“That’s why you want to put me on this case,” Yuu concluded, clasping the calling card to their racing heart. “To prevent this from going down tonight.”
“And furthermore,” Riddle added, “to investigate the identity of this so-called phantom thief once the museum is safely secured.”
“That’s a tall order, sir.”
“You’ll have access to our force’s resources, and to my officers. You will assist in overseeing this operation, with maps and outlines of the museum’s security detail from Mr. Crowley. We’ll cooperate to create a plan of attack to apprehend the Knave.”
“You misunderstand me. I never said I wouldn’t take the job,” Yuu coolly informed the Chief. Their mouth cocked upwards with confidence. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
“Oh, blessed day!! From the very bottom of my oh-so-generous heart, thank you very much!!” Crowley cried tearfully.
For the first time the entire briefing, Riddle smiled back at Yuu. “Hmph. That’s what I like to hear. Happy to be working with you again, Detective.”
“Likewise, Chief.”
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The sun had already set when Yuu exited the station, the stars blinking into existence. Several hours had been spent picking the museum curator’s brain with a fine-toothed comb, looking over layouts, and memorizing security detail. The information had been well-stocked, and now came the time to let it marinate and bloom into plans.
Stuffing their hands in their pockets, Yuu shuffled down the sidewalk and past rows of parked vehicles. Ahead, neon lights flashed in and out, and the trains rattled on their well-worn tracks, buses and cars honking at each other, the chatter of street vendors filling the air.
And something different than the usual tonight.
The city never slept, always buzzed with energy. Yuu had become accustomed to its sights and sounds, finding them even comforting. Their best ideas were conceived against the hum of the cityscape. It was just soft enough to not fully distract, but just noticeable enough to tug at their thoughts for long enough to stray into new territories and concepts.
Light from lonely streetlamps created tears in the darkness, illuminating the path to their favorite downtown thinking spot: the Mostro Lounge. A good (albeit overpriced) drink would chase away their tiredness.
Yuu continued with that promise in mind, every step catlike. First quick, next slow, then quick, moderate, slow, quick, slow, quick, moderate. Their speed, ever alternating.
Their ears strained against the sounds of the city, slowly parsing through the individual elements.
Trains, buses, cars, chatter… and the soft footsteps masked by them. Footsteps which matched Yuu’s pace.
There was no mistaking it now.
I’m being followed.
They didn’t look to see who it was—the first rule of tailing a target was to never alert them to your awareness. Yuu would know (as oftentimes they were the one in the position of tailer).
They cast their eyes across the street, which was busy with bodies. Once Yuu merged with the crowd, they could easily shake off their stalker.
Their feet picked up their pace again, hurrying to the crosswalk. It was a glaring red, advising pedestrians to stop.
Shoot, Yuu cursed.
They felt a presence step up beside them. From the corner of their eye, they could make out a dark form--clothes. Yuu pretended to check the time on their phone, and glimpsed him in the reflection.
He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up and head down to conceal his features. His hands, too, were out of sight, a sea of baggy fabric hiding identifying features, save for his frame. Lanky, but reasonably packed with muscle to keep up with Yuu.
The man shifted, and his sight grazed theirs. His eyes were hard and icy, a silent threat.
Yuu quickly focused on the crosswalk light. Their heartbeat became as loud as the surrounding sounds. Screeching above the vehicles, shouting from the rooftops. THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP, THA-THUMP.
At last, the light turned from red to white.
Walk.
They started--and so did he.
“Excuse me.” A hand came upon their shoulder. The other pulled at something with a sinister glint. “Do you have a second?”
No walking, Yuu corrected themselves. Run!!
They sprinted down the crosswalk, jostling pedestrians with a hasty “sorry!” thrown back at them. As Yuu weaved through the crowd as fast as they could, they could not completely shunt out the man after them.
“Hey, please wait!! Where are you going?! C-Come back, I need to talk to you!”
His voice carried above the others. People jolted back, the crowd parting to make way for the man to charge forth. His volume swelled louder and louder as he gained on them.
Towering apartments seemed to bear down on Yuu. Their windows, glaring.
A shop. Find a shop and get inside!!
Yuu pumped their arms, pleaded for their legs to move more efficiently.
Again, a weight fell upon their shoulder. It was a clamp, fingers biting Yuu’s skin through their jacket as they dug in and held firm.
The other hand wielded the same shining object that it had before. Yuu looked more closely this time, and the unease in them dissipated. It was not the pointed tip of a knife, but the glint of a familiar officer’s badge wreathed in golden roses.
The man tore off his hood with a sigh--though Yuu noticed that he wasn’t one bit out of breath. Navy bangs fell across his forehead, his eyes a peacock green-blue, much friendlier under the streetlamps than the crosswalk signs.
He smiled at Yuu as though he were greeting an old friend. His grip turned into a tender squeeze. “I finally caught up with you!”
The detective awkwardly pulled away, confusion scrawled on their face. “Um... Sorry, who are you? I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“Oh! Uh...” The man jumped, retracting his hand. “That’s because we haven’t! Er, not officially anyway, but I’ve heard a lot about you!!”
Yuu pointed to his badge. “That. You’re an officer?”
“Yessir!” The man offered the proof of his identity and stiffly saluted. “Officer Deuce Spade, sir!! I’m a new recruit...!! I just joined the force a few weeks ago!”
Yuu mustered a faint smile. The darned fool was going to give them away. “... Am I in trouble, officer?”
“Nossir! Not at all!” His entire face shone with eagerness, earnest, and a slightly nervous energy. Maybe Yuu would have found it adorable (in the same way that a child trying hard was adorable), were he not blasting your occupation to the public. “Why would you be in trouble, sir?! You’re working with...”
“Okaaay, that’s enough out of you!” Yuu slapped a hand over Deuce’s mouth, silencing him.
Curious onlookers murmured amongst themselves. Some had taken to halt and full-on gawk. Children pointed, adult narrowing their eyes with suspicion.
Yuu frowned, removing their hand to shoo pedestrians away. “Nothing to see here, folks. Just a misunderstanding. Move along, Wonder Boy and I can settle this ourselves.”
“Wonder Boy?” Deuce, in a daze, pointed to himself. “Is that... me?”
“Who else would I be talking about?” Yuu folded their arms. “I assume you’re free now?”
“I am, sir! I was just let off my shift a little while ago, sir!”
“First, drop the ‘sir’. It’s giving me a headache,” Yuu instructed. “Second, if you’re free, then you’ll be joining me for a drink and a chat. We have things to discuss--chief among them being why you were following me.”
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Ring-a-ling!
A bell sounded as the door to the Mostro Lounge swung open. Deuce stepped into a new world, Yuu at his side.
The interior itself was dim, but glass lights fastened in the shape of jellyfish projected swimming incandescent lights in purple, blue, and pink. Velvet booths lined one half of the eatery, the other, a glossy bar with tall, narrow stools, the shelves behind it healthily stocked with bottles in jeweled tones. Strangers poised with drink took residence in most of the seats.
The entire back wall had been repurposed into a massive aquarium teeming with aquatic plants and exotic creatures. Seaweed and coral gently swayed to the rhythm of the smooth jazz floating through the lounge, fish frolicking among them.
“Whoooa,” Deuce gasped, craning his head to drink in every detail. “I’ve never been to a place as classy as this. It looks so expensive. You think my salary’s enough to cover at least an appetizer?”
“Hang on tight to your wallet,” Yuu warned. “This place will squeeze you for every thaumark you’re worth and then some—and they won’t feel a bit of remorse about it.”
The detective raised an arm, flagging a nearby waiter.
Their uniform was simple yet sleek: dark dress pants, a white bow tie, spotless gloves, and a cummerbund and suspenders over a lavender button-up shirt. It allowed for slight variation—one waiter skidded by with his shirt buttoned as low as food safety regulations deemed safe. Another jotted down orders with a jacket thrown over his shoulders and a pair of glasses tucked into the crevice of his buttons.
The waiter Yuu called out to approached like a shark fin cutting through still water, neatly bowing to greet their waiting customers. He was prim and proper compared to the other servers, not a button out of place.
When he raised his head, Deuce marveled at his mismatched olive and gold irises, the teal of his hair marred by a stripe of black. Three diamond-shaped scales dangled from his left ear, as sharp as his eyes.
“I bid you welcome to the Mostro Lounge, honored guests,” the waiter said smoothly. He gaze immediately cut to Deuce. “I see you’ve brought a friend with you, today, Yuu-san. How delightfully rare.”
“Acquaintance. We just met outside under… less than ideal circumstances.”
“Oya, how quick you were to seize on that chance encounter. I may even deem you a bigger opportunist than our dear manager.”
“… Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Deuce inquired.
“Perhaps you will find the answer to your question, should you act as a patron at our establishment for long enough.”
“Quit toying with him, Jade. You know what we’re here for,” Yuu grumbled. “My usual.”
“If that is what you wish. And for this gentleman acquaintance of yours?”
“Just ice water is fine, sir!”
Jade maintained his polite smile. “Very well. One glass of ice cold water for you. I will bring you a menu as well, in case you begin to feel peckish late into the night.”
“Oh, thanks!”
“Right this way then.” Jade gestured for the two to follow him.
“He’s upselling you, you know,” Yuu pointed out under their breath. “Hoping that you’ll buy something when presented with the opportunity to spend.”
“E-Eh, he is?! I didn’t even realize…”
“Fufufu. Please, do not let your worries consume you. You have come to relax, correct? We at the Mostro Lounge ask that you put your fins and your feet up and enjoy yourself while the night is still young.”
They were escorted to two empty stools in a (relatively) quiet corner of the bar. The glass jellyfish lights were clustered in the center of the main dining area, leaving the corner like a slice of dark, uncharted waters. Jass music and conversation filtered into a muffled melody.
Yuu plopped down with relief, followed by an apprehensive Deuce. He slowly sank into the cushy seat.
“I will be right back with your drinks. If you will excuse me.” With another bow, Jade rounded the bar and rolled up his sleeves—the transition from waiter to bartender. Presenting his back to the duo, he set to plucking bottles off of the shelves.
Deuce blinked. He still hadn’t taken to fully processing his new surroundings. “Are we really going kick back and have drinks when there’s a serial thief on the loose?”
“We can’t talk about that in public, or risk blowing my cover. It’s safe to talk here,” Yuu reassured him. “What happens in the Mostro Lounge stays in the Mostro Lounge. Say what you want about the slimy staff, but they know how to keep their patrons’ secrets. Client confidentiality and all.”
The young officer brightened. “Ooooh, I get it!”
“… You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Yuu remarked bluntly. They slipped off their baseball cap, letting loose their hair. “So? Let’s have it.”
“Have what?”
“Your reason for following me.”
“Oh!! That.” Deuce nervously scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s kind of…”
The detective drummed their fingers on the polished counter. Methodical, deliberate. “You mentioned that you recently joined the force. However, only senior officials in the police department and myself were privy to this operation. How did you come to learn about it?”
Deuce stiffened, thrown off his beat (if he had any to begin with). “Th-That’s…!”
“I’m asking you a question, Mr. Spade. Please answer me truthfully.”
“I… um… Truth is, I…” Deuce stared at his lap, unable to meet the detective’s eyes. “I might have eavesdropped when I returned from my patrol shift…”
“Go on,” Yuu coaxed.
“There was a report I had to submit to the Chief, but it sounded like he was busy in his office. It’s hard to not notice him when he raises his voice, sir. I decided to wait outside until he was done, and… well, I got curious.”
“Wasn’t Assistant Chief Clover also present? He just let you do that without a single protest?”
“Assistant Chief Clover was very nice to me! He laughed a little and said ‘make sure you don’t get caught with your hand in the cookie jar’!”
Darn it, Trey!! You could’ve been a LITTLE stricter with this guy…! Yuu groaned, massaging the bridge of their nose. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get a better picture of what went down. You followed me wanting to learn more about the operation.”
Like a curious child chasing after a white rabbit. Still immature, still wondering, and still way over their head.
“Yes, but that’s not all!” Deuce insisted. He abruptly stood from the table. “There’s an even more important reason than just satisfying my curiosity, sir!”
Yuu quirked an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
“I had to talk to you—without the Chief around. I had to. That’s why I followed you in secret.” The officer nibbled his lower lip, as if biting back something harsh and bitter from coming up.
“Out with it, Mr. Spade.”
“Pardon the intrusion,” Jade coolly interjected. His tone was nonchalant but his bemused smile was a telltale sign that he was relishing in every second of the hot gossip. “Your beverages.”
He slid two glasses between Yuu and Deuce before departing. One was tall and slim—a highball—loaded with carbonated water and fruity gummies. Yellow for jeweled pineapples, red for ruby berries, green for frozen mint, black for floral cacao, and blue from pure azure salt. It was Yuu’s usual, the famed Mystery Drink. The other glass was, by comparison, an ordinary drink of water, a single large, clear cube of ice floating in it.
A bead of sweat ran down Deuce’s jawline. Condensation forming and racing on his glass of water.
Suddenly, the officer slapped both hands on the counter, slamming his face down upon its surface. His navy hair splayed, forehead touching the table in a display of humility.
Yuu almost spilled their drink. “What are you doing?”
“I’m begging you, sir!! P-Please put me on the mission!!” Deuce pleaded, his voice shaky but resolute. “I… I want to help catch the Knave of Hearts too!!”
“If that’s all you wanted, why ask me? Go through the proper channels to…”
“I can’t!! The Chief would never allow it.” His expression creased with shame. “He says rookies need to work their way up from meter maid to working on cases.”
“He’s right. You need to grow into these things, not rush in head-first in a burst of passion.” Yuu made to take a sip of their drink—but the officer’s fist collided with the counter, the liquid inside the glass sloshing overboard. Seltzer water splashed onto their pant leg, leaving a sticky wet spot on a thigh.
“P-Please reconsider! I know how to handle myself in a fight! I’m fast, I could easily catch up with him if it’s a race on foot!”
“Look,” the detective said irritably, “I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish here. Fact is, no matter how much you ask, I wouldn’t want to take you on for this case. You’re too green behind the ears—and sorry, but I just don’t see you as an asset.
“You may be strong and quick on your feet, but it’ll take more than strength and speed to catch the Knave of Hearts. There’s a reason he hasn’t been caught yet.” Yuu tapped at their temple. “It’s this. He’s got smarts, and we need to combat that with smarts of our own.”
“I-I can be smart!! I can try to, at least! Please, just let me try…!!”
Frustrated, Yuu scrutinized the young man again. Their eyes roaming, searching, for detail wrong, a hair out of place.
Years of sleuthing had built up a great amount of cynicism and distrust in the detective. How many times had they pulled back the curtain, revealing the ugly truths hidden out of plain sight? How many bruised egos--both clients and coworkers--had they encountered? People seeking status or to feed their own pride.
Yet when they looked at Deuce, none of that ugliness or ego came through. Here was someone who stubbornly stared right back at Yuu, unwilling to back down, even when his dignity lay in tatters on the floor the instant he prostrated himself.
Another selfish bid for recognition? They ventured, toying with the idea. Maybe personal ambition, looking to climb up in the world.
“... One reason,” Yuu said, holding up an index finger. “Give me one good reason why I should take you on. Convince me.”
Deuce recoiled--as though even he hadn’t expected to have made it this far, or to be taken seriously at all. His brows creased with effort as he racked the recesses of his mind to find the right phrasing.
A second later, he let out a piercing shout.
“GAAAAAAAAH!!”
With a grunt, Deuce grasped his cup of ice water and lifted it to his lips. He hammered the drink in a single swig, releasing a satisfied hoot. The liquid courage had revived the man, returning the spark to him.
In a voice as clear as the drink he had just downed, Deuce said, “It’s for my mom. She’s just about the sweetest, most hard-working person I know.”
He hung his head and slammed his empty cup down, shaking the entire table.
“She raised me as a single parent. Mom never once complained, only wanted the best life for me.” Deuce glared into his glass, speaking with scorn and anger--not at others, but for himself. “And how did I repay her? I... turned to delinquency.
“I acted out because I wasn’t man enough to do the mature thing and work on myself!! She blamed herself for my stupid decisions! I made mom worry for me so, so much...”
Plip, plip.
Deuce faltered, letting quiet tears dribble down his cheeks and landing on the cube of ice left in his glass. Once they made contact with the frozen block, it was impossible to tell what was water and what was salt.
“I swore to myself that I would turn my life around... to show mom that it’s not her fault, that she did all she could to raised someone who could contribute to society!! So I studied really hard at the police academy, and even though my grades were crappy, I managed to graduate...!!”
He choked up, a concoction of fiery passion infused in his stuttering words. “I can finally be that model officer and make a change in the community! But I haven’t done a damn thing...! I just play meter maid while bad guys are out there running free, when I could be out there making this city a safer place for mom and everyone that lives here...!!”
The noises of the lounge seemed to fade into a stoic silence around Deuce. His declaration reverberated loudly. “I have to do this. I need to do this.”
He bowed again, his forehead pressed hard against the surface of the table. The single word he uttered was hoarse, desperate.
“Please.”
Deuce pried himself up almost painfully. The eyes were aquamarine, wet with hot tears. Something shone through them in shades of blue and green, priceless as any treasure: an honesty that burned like an eternal flame.
Yuu startled, striken by a single, haunting revelation: He’s telling the truth.
“... I don’t think I’ve met someone like you before,” they said cryptically. “I don’t doubt your story—but as touching as it is, I don’t know if...”
Hesitation reared its head, and Yuu forced themselves to look away. Couldn’t bear to see him, that wide-eyed sincerity.
Emotion clashing with their sound logic. Two things that shouldn’t have belonged together colliding. 
Wait... things that don’t belong together? Things I didn’t expect, surprises and twists to the tale...
A ex-delinquent turned into a policeman. A selfishness turned selfless. An anticipated lie turned into a truth. Something there that hadn’t been before.
The detective’s mind raced, quickly outpacing the words leaving their mouth. A solution which subverted expectations, a trap laced with honey for a man with sticky fingers.
That’s it. We’ll pull a trick of our own.
“Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” Yuu abruptly announced. “You’re in on this operation, Mr. Spade.”
“R-Really?!” Deuce’s face nearly tore in half, his volume revving up like a motorcycle engine. “You mean it?!”
“I do.”
Yuu took a cool sip of their Mystery Drink. Flavors from all over Twisted Wonderland cascaded over their tongue—a triumphant, fleeting pleasure.
They set their glass down and bent over, gripping Deuce by the strings of his hoodie. Yuu tugged, bringing the policeman lurching forward.
His clammy forehead against theirs. Centimeters away, his eyes widened. A flushed heat climbed to his cheeks, his voice set in a stammer.
“S-Sir, what are we...”
“You’ll have to follow my instructions very carefully,” Yuu replied with a devious grin. “Listen up, rookie: cuz you’re going to be the star of this show. Here’s the plan...”
The ambience of the lounge drowned out Yuu’s whispers. From afar, their words could only be read through the shapes of their mouth, the increasingly confused and alarmed expressions that Deuce pulled.
Jade observed them patiently, chuckling to himself. “My, my, it seems like our genius detective has found yet another solution.”
CLATTER, CLATTER!!
A tray piled high with empty plates and dishes was slammed down. Jade’s twin peered around the stack, leaning lazily against the bar.
“Eeeh, but I bet against them this time.”
“Playing the contrarian runs its risks.” Jade picked up a glass, staring at his brother through it. The golden orb called his left eye was clear as a topaz. “As for myself, I’m excited to see how this plays out.”
PLAP.
A notepad came down on the table as a third waiter joined them.
“Both of you need to stop gossiping and get back to work,” their manager chided, sliding the notepad—scrawled with fresh orders—to Jade. “Leave the customers to tend to their own business. We’ll soon know the outcome.”
[To be continued...]
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perotovar · 22 days
Text
bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me
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pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 6.6k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, descriptions of a crime scene/injury (bullet wound and head trauma)(not shane or tim), heavy petting, oral (male receiving), protected p in a, discussions of dom/sub and top/bottom, tiny bit of misogyny (shane is ignorant af and it's like 2002 lol), first time bottoming, shane's internal battles, tim being a really fucking good partner, f e e l i n g s, seriously this is sappy y'all, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (seriously i can't explain how much taylor has helped with this story, go give her some love!)
series summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.
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for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifications ♥
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Shane locked himself in his bedroom for three days after the disaster at Tim’s apartment. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. How could he just… kiss him like that? 
Why did he do that?
He thought about that moment constantly, for hours at a time. Tim’s lips, for how briefly they’d touched his own, felt so… correct. They were soft, a little chapped, but warm. It was like things clicked into place for him. He doesn’t remember any kisses with Raven ever feeling like that. Or any girl he’d been with, for that matter. 
He hated himself for how good it felt. Especially because Tim ended it before it ever really began.
Shane wasn’t sure if there was anyone else he could go to about any of this. Legally, he still lived with his mom and her husband in their downtown apartment, but they never saw each other. He basically had his own area of the apartment to himself. His mom and her husband made enough that they didn’t really notice or care what Shane did with his life. He didn’t have any goals, and he guessed that’s why he did petty crimes like he did. He was just so fucking bored.
And now he was dealing with… this. 
He stared at Tim’s business card, his thumb rubbing over the older man’s name. He was curled up on his bed, holding one of his pillows close. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. The bright green text read 2:18am. He sighed to himself and rolled over onto his back.
He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
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Nobody noticed a change in Tim at work. If they did, they were professional enough not to bring it up. He felt fucking awful for how things went down with Shane. He wanted to reciprocate so badly, but Shane was vulnerable and Tim didn’t want to take advantage of him like that.
“Boss, I got those files you needed.”
Tim looked up from his desk, pen still in hand while he filled out the paperwork for a robbery he’d taken care of the day before. He’d thought about Shane and his magazine the entire time. “Thank you,” he grunted, pointing at an empty spot on his desk. “Can just set it there, please.”
The agent set it down and took off, getting back to work.
Tim looked back down at the file he was working on and sighed, losing his focus. He looked over at the phone on his desk and frowned. He didn’t have Shane’s number so he couldn’t call him. He wanted to tell Shane that what happened wasn’t wrong, or even unwanted.
The sound of heavy footsteps brought him out of his thoughts. Matthews, his partner, slammed Tim’s office door open.
“There’s been a shooting!”
Tim furrowed his brows, pushing his thoughts of Shane away for now, and focusing on the task at hand. “Where? Do we know anything else?” He asked, opening the drawer in his desk to put his gun holster on over his shoulders.
“Yeah, it was at a liquor store downtown. We have an idea of who the victim is based on descriptions from the employee working at the time, but not of the shooter,” Matthews answered, handing Tim’s trenchcoat to him. 
The two detectives made their way to Tim’s car and sped off to the crime scene.
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“His name is Howard Xavier, and he’s twenty-eight,” Watson, the cop who was in the area, explained. “He’s on his way to the hospital now, but he looks to be in decent condition.”
Tim nodded, eyes looking over the crime scene. Flashes of photos being taken filled the peripheries of his vision. There were bottles of wine and hard liquor crashed everywhere. “Looks like Xavier tried to run from the shooter,” he mumbled, crouching down to look at the dirty boot prints on the linoleum floor.
“Do you think they knew each other?” Matthews asked.
Tim sighed, looking up at his partner before standing again. “Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Do we have any information on any relatives or associates?”
“No family, but we’ve found a couple of friends on file,” Matthews replied. “I think we’ve got them back at the station.”
Tim nodded. “Let’s head back and see what we can find.”
“Yes, sir.”
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Tim couldn’t believe his fucking eyes. 
Known Associates: Tracy Wynanski and Shane Morrissey.
This had to have been the coincidence to end all coincidences or Tim had an insane amount of luck. There was a phone number for Tracy, but no address. He stepped out of his office and approached his secretary, an older woman by the name of Dolores.
“Can you get me Shane Morrissey’s file, please?” He asked, voice a little more gruff than he’d intended.
“Of course, sweetie, give me one moment,” Dolores smiled, rolling her chair to the file cabinets. 
Shane’s file in hand, he sat back at his desk and started looking through the files for Howard Xavier again. A bullet wound to the thigh, and blunt force trauma to the head.
He figured it’d be easy to get the professional parts out of the way first and called Tracy, asking if she knew anything about the shooting. She said she didn’t, since her and Howard hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. She’d gone back home to Philadelphia after a breakup. 
“Thank you, Tracy,” he said. “Do you happen to know Shane Morrissey? He’s one of Howard’s other known associates and I’d like to ask if he knows anything.”
Tracy let out a bitter laugh and said, “Oh, I know Shane. He can kiss my ass for all I care.”
“Ms. Wynanski, please–”
“I don’t have a number for him, but I can tell you where he lives. Not saying he’ll be there, though,” she paused. “Likes to frequent this one house full of his ‘friends’ when he’s not at home moping.”
Tim felt his entire body relax, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. “That will be very helpful. Thank you, Ms. Wynanski. Do you have the address for the other house?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t go in there like you’re looking for him, though. They’ll all run off.”
“I can handle it. Thank you, Ms Wynanski.”
After confirming that the address Tracy had matched the one they had on file, and wrote down the other address, he called Matthews, who decided to check on Xavier at the hospital.
“He’s stable. He’ll probably stay here for a couple of days,” his partner said through the phone.
“Alright. I’ve got a lead on one of his associates. It’s fucking Morrissey, John,” Tim chuckled.
“You’re shitting me. Employee at the liquor store said Xavier looked like he walked out of the Satanic Temple so I guess I’m not too surprised.”
Tim rolled his eyes and snorted, making one last note on Howard’s file. “I’m gonna head out and look for him. Could you go to one of these addresses for me?”
“Sure thing, Tim. Don’t get trapped in some ritual sacrifice.”
“Fuck off,” Tim laughed.
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Tim decided to go to the second house full of Shane’s “friends”. He figured it was more likely that he was there, and he was right. It looked like it was a gathering of about ten or fifteen other kids around Shane’s age, all dressed in similar clothing.
The house was filled with smoke and had music playing, so he decided it was better if he stayed in his car until Shane came outside. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid.
It didn’t take too long, Shane stumbling out of the house and laughing loudly. Tim turned the key, the engine for his Caprice coming to life. Shane startled and looked over, eyes locking with Tim’s behind the wheel.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shane barked, stomping over to the passenger window and glaring at the older man.
“I need your help,” Tim said softly.
Shane rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you fucking stalk me here? You can’t be here– They can’t see me with you.”
“Then get in. They won’t know.” Tim looked up at him, eyes softening when he saw the clear hurt on Shane’s face. He wasn’t very angry by the looks of it. Just upset.
Shane scoffed, looked back at the house, and raised his arms in defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, opening the passenger side door and sitting down.
“Seatbelt.”
“Eat me, old man,” Shane rolled his eyes. He lifted a leg and rested his chunky boot on the car’s dashboard. 
Tim sighed heavily and didn’t argue. He’ll just clean his car later. “You wanna talk at the station or at my apartment?”
Shane bit his lip, picking at a rip in his jeans and making it worse. “I don’t wanna go to the station.”
“Figured as much,” Tim exhaled, looking behind the car for any oncoming traffic and pulling out of the neighborhood towards his apartment.
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Shane stared at Tim’s arms underneath the tight white dress shirt, the fabric pulling at the thick muscle. He wondered what Tim looked like on top of him, those strong arms pinning him to a mattress and–
“You know a Howard Xavier, right?” Tim asked, eyes squinting at the file in his hands. 
The two of them were seated at the table in Tim’s dining room, the surface in front of them covered in documents and files. 
“Yeah, that’s X,” Shane mumbled, picking at his nails so he could hide the pink in his cheeks.
Tim raised a brow but didn’t comment, nodding. “Do you know if he had any enemies, Shane?” He asked, digging his glasses out of his front pocket and putting them on. “That’s better,” he said to himself, the text on the files clearing up.
Shane blinked a couple times, the sight of Tim wearing glasses doing more for him than he thought possible. His breathing picked up a little, heart pounding in his chest when Tim made eye contact with him, waiting for Shane to answer. “U-um, I don’t think so? X was always pretty chill,” he mumbled.
Tim nodded and took notes on a sticky pad. Tim’s phone started ringing, making the older man get up and answer it. “Rockford,” he grunted into the receiver.
Shane stayed seated and kept to himself, listening to the one sided conversation.
“You’re shitting me. He did? Thanks, John. Yeah. You too. Have a good night.”
Tim exhaled and hung up the phone, clicking his pen. “Good news,” he smiled, taking his seat at the table across from Shane. “Xavier woke up and described the shooter. My partner found him.”
Shane nodded, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. “‘S good,” he mumbled.
Tim watched Shane’s face closely, eyes trailing over the piercings and the messy hair. “I’m sorry I took you away from your party,” he said softly.
“‘S okay. Don’t like those guys very much,” Shane shrugged. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time not curling in on himself again. He couldn’t even look Tim in the eye without thinking about what his lips felt and tasted like.
Tim furrowed his brows. “Why do you hang out with them, then?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to pry, but it was sort of his job to find information. Shane wasn’t a job, though. He was much more than that.
Shane sighed and angrily looked at Tim for a second before looking away again. “Why do you care?”
Tim bit his lip, fiddling with his tie. “You really wanna know, kid?”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes.
“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Shane,” Tim admitted gently, crossing one leg over the other.
Shane furrowed his brows and looked at Tim incredulously.
“It’s true. Would you believe me if I said I got arrested? Was about your age, too.” Tim chuckled as he remembered what caused his arrest.
A small smile grew on Shane’s face. “What’d you do?”
“Public Indecency.”
Shane’s eyes grew three times in size. “Did you get caught having sex? Were you streaking?” He giggled, the tips of his ears turning red.
“Uh, well,” Tim chuckled. “I was in my car at the time and having sex.”
Shane laughed, face as red as a tomato. His thoughts flooded with images of what Tim having sex looked like. What sort of faces did he make? What kind of sounds did he make? Was he more dominant or submissive?
“Were you going down on her or…?”
“Him,” Tim answered easily. “And no, we were uh… I was found on top of him.”
Shane froze, eyes wide. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back at Tim briefly before settling his eyes on Tim’s tie. “You’re…?” He asked shakily. 
“Yeah, kid,” Tim chuckled. Shane looked terrified and it broke Tim’s heart. “I said I was here for you if you needed me. I still am.”
Shane squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy, shaky breath. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and looked at Tim with wet, glossy eyes. “I don’t– I don’t understand,” he shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t seem–”
“Not every gay person is really flamboyant, Shane.”
Shane blushed in embarrassment. “Why did you turn away from me, then? Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He frowned, voice shaky and hurt.
Tim’s eyes rounded, his whole face becoming softer. “I wanted to,” he admitted, looking down at Shane’s ring-clad hands. “But it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”
“Take advantage–! I kissed you!” Shane roared.
“You were vulnerable and confused. And,” Tim gulped. “And I’m a lot older than you, it’s… It’s not appropriate.” He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly at how much it hurt to say out loud.
“Tim,” Shane whimpered, biting his lip. He felt a thick lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right now. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like he was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care about that, I’m– I’m more worried about you being a cop than being older than me. I’m an adult,” he scoffed, his bottom lip trembling.
Tim couldn’t hold in the chuckle that bubbled out of him. “I know you are. I just don’t– I don’t know how this could continue–”
“Please, shut up,” Shane begged, getting out of his chair and making his way over to Tim. He looked down at the older man, face burning, and slowly crawled into Tim’s lap, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,��� he whispered. “I don’t wanna think anymore. Please.”
Tim’s hands instinctively found their place on Shane’s hips. His eyes moved from Shane’s to the younger man’s lips, then back up. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumbs into Shane’s hip bones.
“No,” Shane mumbled. “Well, yes, but… No.”
Tim raised a brow and smirked. “How about we take things slow.”
Shane nodded, biting his lip. “Okay.”
Tim smiled and softly connected their lips, caressing Shane’s head, thumb rubbing at his jaw. Shane whimpered quietly as he tentatively kissed back. His lips trembled against Tim’s, soft huffs of air expelling out from between them. He’d kissed before but this was so… different. The feeling of Tim’s facial hair against his lips was weird. Good, but weird. 
Shane experimentally ran his tongue along Tim’s bottom lip. Tim took the hint and softly caressed Shane’s tongue with his own, making the younger man gasp into his mouth. Tim squeezed Shane’s narrow hips, trying to ground him, and sighed into the kiss. It built a little over time, but eventually, they found a rhythm. The soft clinking of metal from Shane’s earrings filled the otherwise silent apartment. They learned each other over the course of their kissing. Tim learned that Shane liked to nibble and bite, and Shane learned that Tim liked to encompass him entirely, like he could devour Shane’s mouth if given the chance.
When Tim pulled away for some much needed air, Shane whined in protest, his face leaning toward Tim’s to keep going. “Slow your roll, kid,” Tim chuckled, pressing his forehead to Shane’s and panting quietly. Shane blushed, and chewed his swollen bottom lip while he waited. “C’mere,” Tim grunted, tugging Shane’s leather duster off his shoulders. Shane went along with it, pulling his arms free before the sound of squeaky leather fell into a heap on the floor. 
Large hands ran over Shane’s hips and waist, but never ventured lower. Shane shivered when Tim’s blunt nails lightly scratched at the exposed skin of his lower back as his t-shirt rode up. Shane’s cock twitched in interest, making him blush high on his cheeks.
“‘s okay, sweetheart,” Tim hummed. He rolled his hips a little, his own half-hard cock rubbing against Shane’s.
Shane’s eyes grew twice their size at the feeling and looked down at the bulge in Tim’s slacks. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. His imagination was a lot easier to handle than the real thing pressing into his inner thigh. 
Tim furrowed his brows in concern and rubbed Shane’s skin underneath his t-shirt comfortingly. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly.
Shane inhaled heavily, and slowly let out a deep breath before turning his head back toward Tim. He opened his eyes, but didn’t make contact. “Just… weird. Feeling your…”
Tim hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you want to stop?”
Shane shook his head, eyes still burning holes into Tim’s slowly rising and falling tummy. 
“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”
“N-no, I don’t want to stop,” Shane whispered.
“Do you want to lie down? There’s no expectation for anything,” Tim said, sitting up a little more in the dining room chair. 
The stretch in Shane’s thighs suddenly overtook any doubts he had, making him shakily get up from Tim’s lap. He was used to having someone sit on his lap like that and being in that position made his stomach hurt.
Tim laced his fingers through Shane’s and gently guided him to his bedroom. He kept the lights low and rubbed his thumb over Shane’s knuckles. “You okay?”
Shane stared at Tim’s bed and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah,” he croaked.
Tim chewed on his lip in thought and let go of Shane’s smaller hand. He gave Shane some space as he took off his glasses and removed the tie he was wearing. He toed off his dress shoes and put them in his closet. When he turned around after unbuttoning his dress shirt, Shane was sitting on his bed, hands curled up into fists on his ripped jean-covered thighs.
Tim sighed softly and sat next to him on the bed. “What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, tugging on pieces of Shane’s hair that were sticking straight out.
Shane shut his eyes and took another deep breath. “I’m just… I’m having a hard time being… like, the female part.” He curled in on himself, his shoulders hiding his ears.
Tim blinked a couple times. “Sweetheart, we’re both men.”
“I-I know that! I just,” he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Usually, I’m in your position. Taking charge.”
“I see,” Tim sighed, getting more comfortable and turning toward him. Shane did the same, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”
Shane blushed, those big brown eyes of his lifting up to meet Tim’s. 
“Alright, firstly, who told you there were ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles?” Tim raised a brow.
“W-well, uh–”
“It’s alright, I already know who. Lesson number one,” Tim smiled reassuringly. “Just because you’re sitting on my lap, letting me ‘take charge’, doesn’t mean you’re weak, honey.”
Shane gulped and nodded, taking all of this in. Tim felt like a professor. Probably the first one Shane would ever listen to.
“And women aren’t weak, so get that out of your head, too.”
Shane let out a heavy breath. This was a lot to take in.
“Did you feel good?” Tim asked, picking up one of Shane’s hands and rubbing his thumb over the scabbed knuckles. When Shane nodded jerkily, Tim grinned, his chest feeling warm at the admission. “That’s all that matters. Think of it this way,” he paused. Shane hung onto every word. “Everything we do? It’s with your say-so. You’re driving the car here.”
Shane blinked as he thought about it. He could work with that. “Oh,” he said quietly.
“You want me to make you feel good again?” Tim smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. Shane’s heart thundered at the sight.
“Y-yes.”
“Go ahead and lay back for me, alright?”
Shane nodded and got comfy, head cradled by Tim’s fluffy pillows. His entire body was buzzing and tense. He kept his eyes on Tim’s popcorn ceiling, the sounds of Tim’s belt jingling filling the room. When the bed dipped with Tim’s weight, Shane’s heart stuttered a little. One of Tim’s big hands cupped his cheek and gently turned his face so he could look at Tim again. Shane wasn’t expecting the softness in Tim’s features, or the heat in his eyes.
Tim rubbed Shane’s cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to go far tonight. There’s no rush.”
Shane nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
This time, when their lips connected, Shane eased into it a lot sooner, kissing the older man with renewed fervor. He sighed into it, the warmth radiating off of Tim being an endless source of comfort. He gripped onto Tim’s opened dress shirt and tugged it down his shoulders. Tim released Shane’s lips briefly while he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Shane moaned weakly when Tim surged forward and sucked his bottom lip between his own.
Shane’s head was fuzzy, all the blood there rushing down between his legs. He gasped when Tim rolled him over and hovered over him, pressing his hips between Shane’s thighs. Tim took his time with him, kissing him languidly while he unbuckled Shane’s jeans.
“Can I touch you?” Tim breathed between kisses.
Shane nodded quickly, holding the sides of Tim’s head and tangling his fingers in the short, thick locks of Tim’s hair. Tim smiled against the younger man’s lips and pulled Shane’s baggy, ripped jeans off. Shane toed off his own socks before wrapping his legs around Tim’s thick waist. Tim was so much larger than Shane was and it made his head spin.
Tim’s hands played with the bottom of Shane’s t-shirt and slowly lifted it up, bunching under his armpits. He pulled away to look at Shane’s torso and grinned when he saw the small tattoos there. Both hands holding Shane’s sides, he gently rubbed at the younger man’s nipples, making Shane gasp. Goosebumps and flushed skin covered his entire body in seconds, making Shane lightly smack Tim’s shoulder. Tim laughed lightly and softly kissed his way down Shane’s torso until he was eye level with the tent in the younger man’s boxers.
Shane blushed hard, eyes wide. “W-what are you doing?”
Tim raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, tugging on the elastic of Shane’s boxers. “Said I’d make you feel good, sweetheart.”
Shane blinked. “B-but isn’t that…”
“There are no roles. But if you don’t want me to, then–”
“I do!” Shane smacked his hand over his own mouth and shut his eyes, hoping the bed would swallow him whole. 
A wolfish smirk crossed Tim’s features as he lowered his head, kissing along Shane’s pelvis. Shane whimpered at the feeling of Tim’s facial hair across his skin, his body shuddering. “Breathe, sweetheart,” Tim whispered, shutting his eyes to suck gently at Shane’s hip and leaving a mark. 
Shane forced himself to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes to center himself. When he opened his eyes, Tim quirked a brow up at him as he tugged on Shane’s boxers again. Shane nodded his consent and almost groaned at the cool air in the apartment hitting his throbbing cock. Tim hummed appreciatively and didn’t waste a second, kissing the tip, then making his way down the shaft.
Shane moaned openly gripping the sheets of the bed into tight fists. “T-Tim, what–”
“Shh…” Tim whispered, engulfing the head of Shane’s cock in his mouth. He moaned at the taste and watched Shane’s face as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. Shane’s eyes rolled back and arched his back off the bed. 
Shane felt his cheeks throb and the blood rushing in his ears, doing everything in his power to keep his hips down. When his hips bucked up on their own, he moaned weakly, looking at Tim’s face to make sure he didn’t choke him. What he found instead made his cock twitch.
This was one of Tim’s favorite things to do. Making his partner feel good with his mouth was something he always got pleasure out of and Shane was no different. In fact, this was probably one of the more rewarding times, because this was the first time a man had done this for him. He felt good knowing he got to be the first, and a little possessive side of him liked the idea even more.
Eyes shut, Tim moaned around Shane’s length, losing himself in it. He gripped Shane’s hips and rubbed the bones there to soothe him. Shane’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched. He felt a little embarrassed to admit that this was probably the best head he’d ever received.
Tim opened his eyes, keeping an eye on any changes in Shane’s face. 
Shane felt his balls drawing up, making him moan weakly. “I-I’m gonna–” He cut himself off, gripping the sheets tighter. Tim doubled his efforts, bobbing his head a little faster. “Oh, fuck,” Shane whined, his thighs trembling on either side of Tim’s head.
Tim moved his hands up Shane’s torso and rubbed at the younger man’s nipples again, urging him on.
“W-wait, wait–” Shane gasped, smacking his hand against Tim’s shoulder as the pressure built and built. Tim watched closely and if he could, he’d grin to himself as he watched Shane’s eyes roll back. Shane’s entire body stilled and he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Tim’s throat. Shane’s moans went up three octaves as he shook with pleasure, his toes curling.
Tim swallowed everything and slowly, gently, raised his head. He licked Shane clean, kissing back up his torso. Once he was hovering over Shane again, Tim smiled at the blissed out expression on his face. He chuckled lightly and kissed Shane’s cheek.
“Still with me?”
Shane shivered at the gravelly tone of Tim’s voice. It must be an octave or two lower than normal given what he’d just done. He slowly blinked his eyes open and didn’t have the energy to hold back the smile when he saw Tim’s handsome face. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he mumbled, his body feeling heavy and sated.
“Good. You should get some rest, sweetheart.” Tim’s laugh rumbled in his chest.
Shane pouted, big brown eyes glazed over, but determined. “What about you?”
“I’ll be okay. Get some rest,” Tim said, kissing Shane’s forehead. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked, pulling the material down from where it was bunched up under his armpits.
Shane nodded, watching in awe as Tim took care of him. It was at this moment that Shane realized Tim was completely serious with him. He wouldn’t make fun of him, or use him. Shane felt tears prickling behind his eyes, but quickly blinked them away.
“Be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water,” Tim grunted quietly, crawling off the bed. Shane didn’t have the energy to argue, and just watched Tim’s broad back leave the bedroom.
When Tim returned with the glass of water, he was greeted with the sight of Shane’s sleeping form. He smiled at him, and set the water on the nightstand closest to Shane. 
He got himself undressed, making sure to be careful of his own half-hard cock. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he crawled into bed behind Shane and held the younger man close. The day caught up with him as he laid there, eyes trailing over the messy curls and multiple piercings in Shane’s ears.
He drifted off quickly, and had a dreamless sleep.
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Twitch. Twitch.
Shane groaned in his sleep.
What was that?
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light. He tried to turn and feel what was poking against his back, but he was held firmly in place by… Were those arms?
Shane’s eyes snapped open as the memories from the night before came flooding back. His cheeks burned as he looked down and saw the strong, very male, hands holding him close to a broad chest. Tim huffed in his sleep, making Shane smile shyly. He couldn’t deny it, being held by Tim felt really good. It was so warm.
He tried rotating in Tim’s arms, silently exhaling in relief when he didn’t seem to wake the older man. He felt the twitching again and looked down between their bodies.
Oh.
Shane smiled at the sight of Tim’s morning wood through his boxer briefs. He looked back up at Tim’s sleeping face and decided against doing anything until he’d woken up. For now, he ran his fingers through the thin layer of chest hair on Tim’s skin. It seemed obvious when he thought about it, but it was so different than when he was with a woman. He didn’t feel like he had to hide with Tim. Tim wouldn’t judge him.
Tim made him feel safe. 
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”
Shane startled and looked up, Tim’s soft smirk and sleepy eyes greeting him. He shook his head in lieu of an answer.
When Tim grumbled in response, it reminded Shane of a bear. 
“Do you want… You need help with that?” Shane asked timidly, pointing between their bodies. Their legs were tangled together and they were touching everywhere. The proximity and the feeling of warmth radiating from between Tim’s legs had Shane throbbing in no time.
Tim snorted and leaned forward, kissing Shane sleepily. Shane moaned into it, grinding his own cock against Tim’s. Tim pulled back and panted a little against Shane’s lips.
“We don’t have to. I’ll be okay–”
Shane cut him off by gripping Tim’s ass and squeezing. When Tim made a small noise of surprise, Shane smirked, attempting to pull Tim onto his own lap. “I want to,” he said, voice determined, but shaky. “I want… I wanna know what it feels like. I have to make sure.”
Tim blinked at him, a little shocked by the sudden change in Shane’s behavior. One of his legs was draped over Shane’s waist as he cupped the younger man’s face. Shane seemed to melt at the gesture, making Tim smirk. “Are you sure?” He asked, brows pinched in concern. He didn’t want Shane to rush into anything. 
“Yes,” Shane nodded.
There was more conviction in that one word than a lot of things Shane had ever said to him, so Tim smiled softly at him. He held onto Shane’s thighs and rolled them over so he was hovering over Shane again, and rubbed the smooth skin comfortingly. “Alright. Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” he nodded his head toward the nightstand. 
With pink cheeks and a determined expression on his face, Shane reached over and dug out the necessary equipment. Everything really settled in his gut when he was holding everything. This was really going to happen. This wasn’t some dream he’d come up with while he was alone in his bedroom, looking at the cracks and fist-sized holes in his walls.
“C’mere,” Tim grunted, gently taking the items from him and holding Shane’s hip. “Gotta get you prepared, okay? Don’t want it to hurt for you.”
Shane nodded appreciatively and watched as Tim discarded his own underwear, kneeling on the bed between Shane’s thighs. He looked the older man over, eyes raking over the messy, gray curls and pillow creases on Tim’s cheeks. His eyes traveled down over the broad shoulders and chest, and down to the swell of Tim’s stomach. That was probably one of Shane’s favorite parts. His eyes landed on the thick cock between muscled thighs and Shane bit his lip. He had to remind himself not to pinch his arm, because this was real. 
Tim carefully got the condom secured around his cock and drizzled some lube on his fingers. “You ready?” He smiled down at Shane, chest warm at the sight of him. Shane nodded, smiling shyly up at him.
Tim curled his fingers around Shane’s cock and pumped slowly. Shane sighed and shut his eyes, lips parting. Tim couldn’t help himself and surged forward, kissing the younger man deeply. He kept his hand on him, keeping up a decent pace as he teased a finger against Shane’s hole.
Shane’s body jerked at the intrusion, making Tim soothe him gently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”
Shane let out a weak noise and nodded, holding on tight to Tim’s shoulders. He spread his legs a little more and wrapped them around Tim’s waist. 
The first press of one of Tim’s thick fingers inside him already had Shane seeing stars. He panted as he looked down between his legs, trying to see what was happening. Tim cupped his face and forced him to look there instead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smiled.
Shane bit his lip and nodded, but gasped soon after as a second finger joined the first. His face twisted into an almost pained expression. Tim watched closely, eyes locked onto him. Tim pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, searching for that sweet spot inside him. Shane was panting heavily, eyes glossed over, but staying on Tim’s face.
When Shane rolled his eyes back and he gasped, Tim knew he found it. Shane moaned, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. “H-hurry up, old man,” he groaned, toes curling on either side of Tim’s hips. “P-please,” he breathed.
Tim snorted, but didn’t argue, removing his fingers gently. Shane groaned at the loss and braced himself for the intrusion, eyes squeezed shut.
“Sweetheart, I need you to breathe first.” Tim leaned over him and kissed him tenderly. He watched as Shane let out one last deep breath and nodded up at him. “Atta boy,” Tim grinned.
Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. As Tim lined himself up, Shane’s heart thundered in his chest, watching the focus on Tim’s face mellow out. He had that same facial expression whenever he was interrogating Shane back at the station, or reading through files, or taking notes. But here, with Shane, he seemed to deflate a little. He relaxed. 
The first push in knocked the wind out of Shane. He moaned, digging his nails into Tim’s broad shoulders. Tim hid his face in Shane’s neck and kissed along the younger man’s sleep-soft skin. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he breathed, hips slowly pushing forward.
Shane trembled in Tim’s arms until Tim’s hips were flush against him. Time stopped as Tim settled, letting Shane adjust. Shane had to blink a few times, swallowing around a lump in his throat. All thought left Shane’s head and the only thing left was the sweet stretch of Tim’s cock inside him. Every wall he’d built up was successfully crumbling at his trembling form. 
Tim petted Shane’s sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him on every available patch of skin he could find.
“M-move,” Shane panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over. “Please.”
So Tim did.
He built up a slow, steady rhythm. Before either of them knew it, their bodies rocked together in perfect harmony. Tim hugged Shane closer, his hips being the driving force while his arms kept Shane grounded.
The sounds leaving Shane’s mouth were so unfamiliar to his own ears, he couldn’t even tell where he was for a moment. The only thing he could feel or think about was the stretch of Tim’s cock, Tim’s heavy breathing against his neck, and Tim’s big hands holding his hips. It was all Tim, Tim, Tim.
He didn’t even feel the tear slowly falling down the side of his face until Tim gently wiped it away. He nearly sobbed when Tim kissed him, chest hitching with every powerful thrust. 
Tim grunted every time Shane clenched around him. He was so tight, which he expected, but he was having a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. He was still tired and his body was trying to catch up. He watched the younger man’s face twist in pleasure and sped up a little, moaning down at him.
Shane wailed, one fist curling up tight and weakly hitting against Tim’s chest. “I-I’m close,” he panted, his cock dripping pre-cum onto his stomach. “T-Tim, I’m–”
“‘s okay, I’m here,” Tim groaned, curling his fingers around the younger man’s cock. He started pumping his fist in time with his thrusts, eyes glued to Shane’s face.
Shane nodded furiously, scratching his nails down Tim’s chest. Not long after that, his entire body shook like a leaf and he clenched hard around Tim’s cock, coming in waves. He moaned out loud, his back arching off the bed, and gasping for air.
Tim’s own eyes rolled back as Shane squeezed around him. Shane’s face was turned into the pillow as he breathed heavily, coming down from such a high peak. Tim slowed down some, letting Shane have a moment.
When Shane made eye contact with him again, Tim’s heart stopped. He didn’t think Shane had looked more beautiful than he had right in that moment. His hair was a mess, his face was blotchy and red, there were tear tracks down his cheeks, and his lips were swollen from all the biting. Tim was pulled out of the fantasy when Shane clenched around him again, making a moan bubble out of him.
“C’mon, old man,” Shane smirked, voice tired.
Tim huffed a laugh and hugged Shane close, hips snapping quicker now. Chasing his own release, he hid his face in Shane’s neck, sucking a dark mark against the younger man’s collarbone.
In just a few short, quick thrusts, Tim was following Shane over that ledge with a deep groan, emptying inside the condom.
Shane exhaled deeply, arms wrapped around him. Then, he giggled quietly. He was elated, he was on cloud nine.
Tim lifted his head, hair sticking up every which way. He raised a brow at the younger man and smirked. “You alright?” He chuckled.
Shane nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good,” Tim grunted, slowly moving out from between Shane’s legs to dispose of the condom. He crawled back into bed and cuddled close, kissing Shane lazily. They both sighed into it. Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they did, Tim breathed, “You hungry? I’m hungry.”
“God, yes. I’m fucking starving,” Shane groaned.
Tim laughed and rolled his eyes and pressed a light kiss to Shane’s lips. “You like pancakes? I make some really good pancakes.”
Shane giggled, feeling lighter than he had in years.
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