Port cado's finest

Ethan Choi | 27 | Dominant |

[mali-song]

The other half. Yeah, that sounded about right. She certainly felt like other when Ethan was around. His shrug was just the capper on what felt a whole lot like rejection. Not that she had any right to feel any kind of way about it.

Even with that feeling still pooling in her gut, she couldn't resist the offer to spend a bit more time with him. Time when she wasn't half naked and he wasn't scolding her for her life choices. Something that she was 99.5 percent sure would still happen.

"Oh I am pretty sure I can handle your company. You sure you can handle mine? My stock run is pretty intense. Not sure you can shoulder all the ramen and tequila."

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan's eyebrows arched slightly, amusement flickering across his features, the corners of his mouth lifting in a reluctant smile. "Ramen and tequila." His tone, though laced with his typical dry humor, carried a trace of warmth that was rarely allowed to surface. "You and Zayn must have an indestructible immune system, huh?"

He stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking as he prepared to follow her lead. "Some things don't change, I guess." Ethan’s eyes held hers for a moment longer than necessary, a silent acknowledgment of the past that lies between them.

"Lead the way." he continued his voice now a blend of challenge and an unspoken promise of truce, at least for the duration of their impromptu grocery run. "I think I can deal with your 'intense'."

[mali-song]

With Zayn out and a night off, Mali figured she may as well run to get their standard stock of ramen, toliet paper, cat food and tequila. It was either that or watch some weepy drama with Oz curled up in her lap and whatever wine was left in the frig. Truly depressing.

She stepped out of the building, with a slight bounce in her step, at the very least glad she wasn't at work. Mali's head snapped up at the sound of her name in a familiar voice, if not tone. Lately, her name on Ethan's lips held more frustration than anything. Why did he keep appearing? Was the universe just fucking with her at this point? But, wait, was he smiling?

"No, actually. Just a store run," Mali replied, shooting him a look that fell somewhere between curiosity and dread. She'd never been good about schooling her face. "What brings you out to the neighborhood? Something work-related? Nefarious shenanigans of some sort?"

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan's smile faltered for a split second, an almost imperceptible crack in his facade. Mali's directness catching him off guard. He leaned away from the wall, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his posture a casual defense.

"No, nothing so thrilling tonight. Just… you know, neighborhood things. Thought I'd see how the other half lives for a change." He shrugged, a familiar gesture meant to dismiss any deeper implications of his presence.

He took a small step closer, curiosity piqued by the mix of emotions flickering across Mali's face. "So, uh - standard stock run, hm? You need a hand?" His smile returned, a touch more genuine this time, as he gestured towards the street. "I mean, if you can handle the company, that is."

[maximura]

What he sounds like in my head: Desert Rose

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan hovered near the entrance of Mali's building, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. The evening air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of city life, and he shifted slightly, pretending to be just another passerby checking his messages.

He had crafted a scenario in his mind—a simple, plausible excuse for his presence should Mali appear. He was 'just in the neighborhood,' a convenient lie that sounded hollow even to his own ears. But concern, thinly veiled as it was, gnawed at him after the incident at The 86. He needed to see her, to speak to her, even if his pride wouldn't allow him to admit why.

As the door creaked open, Ethan's attention snapped to the figure stepping out into the night. It was Mali, looking somehow more herself than he'd seen in ages, and less like the enigma at the club. Suppressing the tightness in his chest, he managed a smirk, masking his worry with a hint of his usual nonchalance.

"Mali," he called out, his voice a mix of feigned surprise and genuine relief. "I - was just in the neighborhood." Ethan offered a smile. "Are you headed to work?"

@mali-song

[mali-song]

She'd deny it but she was relieved when Ethan told her no. She had no desire to enter the club. Though that might have been more to do with his presence than the club itself. For once, Mali didn't try to assert that she would be fine. His concern felt...nice. Warm. Not the cold anger from their last meeting.

Until he stepped away.

Her hand dropped from his arm and the warmth of his concern fell with it. It left her feeling so cold. "Yeah, I'm heading home." She wrapped her arms around herself, and looked at her shoes for a moment, contemplating how to deny the offer. In the end, it was safer to let him. "It's not far." Hopefully it wouldn't feel like it was miles away with his company.

[ethan-portcado]

He noticed the slight shift in her posture, the way her arms wrapped around her own body - a self-protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. Ethan knew he was partly to blame for that sudden coolness between them. He felt the impulse to bridge that gap again but held back, reminding himself that there were boundaries he had set for a reason.

"It's late," Ethan shook his head, the practical part of him speaking out, even if it echoed with an underlying note of concern he couldn't quite mask. His eyes scanned the area around them almost habitually. The night's chill was felt more acutely now, or perhaps it was the lingering strain of their shared awkwardness that turned the air colder. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, looking for a respite from the night's sharp edge. His mind was alert, the residue of his earlier panic slowly settling into a more manageable vigilance. "I'll walk you there." His tone firm, insistent.

[shownuxhyungwon]

[mali-song]

It had been some time since Mali had seen concern etched on to Ethan's features. Recently, it had been anger and frustration. In the face of it, Mali could only rush to assure him. "Hey, I'm fine. Was just walking home from a friends. Wasn't on tonight." A soft voice, a hand gently laid on his bicep, bottom lip tugged between her teeth. He wasn't there to check on her was he? He was just doing his job.

Injuries at the club were fairly rare and were usually someone being clumsy. If someone were injured for other reasons, well, the cops didn't usually know. It was kept in shady back rooms, the dark corners that cops didn't have access to.

"You want me to find out what happened?" It would be easy enough to slip inside and ask around. Pretend to have forgotten something. Made more sense for her to poke around.

@ethan-portcado

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan's eyes met Mali's for a moment, relief flooding in so fast that he almost felt lightheaded. She was okay. That at least was one concern off his weighted shoulders. But it wasn't just a simple feeling of relief; it was like for that split second, he was anchored. The chaos swirling inside him paused.

"No," he finally said, her fingers where they touched him felt like a soft warmth that spread steadily: "I don't want you getting involved in this." His words were rushed, dancing between being too harsh and the concern they are born out of. The phone in his pocket seemed to weigh heavier with each passing second. "You might not have been on tonight, but..." Ethan's words end in an unspoken trail. What if she had been inside. What then?

He looked at Mali, and his gaze sobered, taking a step back, gaining that space between them that he needed to breathe: "Are you headed home? I'll walk you there."

[mali-song]

Mali hated being anywhere near the 86 on a night she was off. She tugged the ball cap on her head down further, hoping no one would recognize her. She'd been visiting with a friend, another dancer who lived nearby. It was far too late to be out walking. But it wasn't that far and she didn't want to waste money on an Uber. Besides, she knew enough people in the neighborhood that she'd be fine.

She looked up just to see who was loitering out in front of the club on the off chance she'd see someone leaving work or someone she trusted to finish her walk with only to see Ethan standing there, looking a little flustered. With no instinct for self-preservation, she finds herself walking right up to him. "Ethan? You okay?"

[ethan-portcado]

He's still pouring over the numbers on his phone. Who can he call, the second slip by and Ethan's mind goes cloudy with images. Mali...Mali...He's useless, every next thought clumbers into a darker one. The crease between Etan's brow deepens until it digs so further down he's sure it'll bleed into panic.

He's a logical person. All of his aptitude tests always said he'd make for a good leader - great under pressure. He didn't feel like he was doing very great right now.

Some calls his name and Ethan spun around to face Mali, for a long moment he's not really sure she's actually there. She doesn't look like herself. There are so many versions of her he's seen recently - the one that greeted him, the one at the club. Now she looks more like the girl he remembered from before - looking at him with concern in her eyes.

"I -" He blinked, tucking the phone away. "Are you okay? Something's happened at the club, one of the girls working here got injured."

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan’s shift drags out longer than it actually had to be. He’s been working overtime for the past week and while it’s a good distraction, it’s slowly starting to feel like he goes home just to sleep and get back to the office. 

The worst part is that all this work has no productive result. Weeks on weeks of digging documents and surveillance data yielded next to nothing. It’s frustrating, tensions are running high and he keeps snapping at his colleagues for no reason. 

He needs a break. They all do, really. If Ethan were a good leader he’d probably force it on them, but they all know the stakes so everyone keeps their mouths shut and does the grind. 

It’s well past midnight when the call comes. Ethan overhears the alert over the static on one of the nearby patrol officers - something’s going on at The 86, an altercation, and one of the girls working there’s been injured. 

That’s all Ethan has to go by - just a mention, but he zeroes in on it. No further description of the woman. Is she one of the dancers, a waiting staff maybe? He can’t help but imagine Mali.

Shit. 

He’s up before he knows it, jacket in one hand, keys in the other. “I have to go do something.” He offers to his partner. “Keep working, I’ll be back in an hour.” 

But Mali’s not in the club when he arrives. The girls dancing on the stage are different, and Ethan can feel a sort of bitter panic rise in his chest. Should he call her? 

He’s got no idea where Mali even lives. Damn it. He’s outside the club, phone in hand. Is her number the same? Zayn’s?  @mali-song

[ethan-portcado]

“Yeah.” Ethan returns and it’s softer. He’s angry. Angry at the sadness that floods his chest. It’s been too long to be pained all over again. Angry for the both of them, sad for the both of them. Because “That doesn’t change anything.” They are where they are. 

"Clearly." The dominant muttered, words crumbled and bitten. Regardless of how she was trying to convince him, perhaps herself too, that she could take care of herself without any help. "My number's still the same." Ethan looked at her, eyes serious. "You can call me of you need me."

[ethan-portcado]

Ethan huffed, annoyed. It wasn’t any of his business, but he wished it was. He still felt that annoying tug towards her regardless. Like an absolute idiot going back to old habits the second he stepped in Port Cado.  

“I don’t want to see you in danger.” Ethan countered. “You might think you have things under control just because you’ve managed so far, but forgive me if I don’t believe you. You don’t exactly have the best track record in staying out of trouble.” His tongue pocked against his cheek, trying to keep his sanity together. It was working very poorly in his favor. 

"I’m a cop, Mali.” He returned, “I’m just doing my job.” Ethan let go, his hands eased away carefully, fingers skimming across her waist before he settled his grip back on the couch instead. 

[ethan-portcado]

"No," Ethan agreed easily, "You didn't. Not being honest is not the same as lying, is it?" Did he have a part in this mess too? Probably. He's being an ass on purpose even now like he just can't help the barb and that's not Ethan. His whole life revolved around controlling himself - discipline, logic, cold, hard facts were better than spiraling into exhausting emotions.

"Before you end up in a police report somewhere, you mean?" Ethan cursed under his breath, brows pinched. "You're putting yourself in danger." When she turned around, for a second only Ethan sent a small prayer of gratitude that lasted only a short moment before her hips swayed and Ethan's hands flew to the sub's thighs to keep her in place or push her away - honestly he's not decided yet. "Stop that." Ethan hissed. "You know damn well why I'm here."

[mishellejones]

#it’s their love language

[ethan-portcado]

@mali-song

[goodgirls-master]

[mali-song]

Mali's movements never stopped as his attention shifted to her answers. This was her element and she'd be damned if Ethan's attitude would rattle her. "I didn't lie. We do dance with a company. Not our fault they pay for shit." It was the closest she was going to come to admitting Zayn worked there as well. The dance company just kept their names out there. Got them noticed. It didn't pay the bills.

She wanted to smack the look he was currently giving her straight off his face. Fuck him. Instead of assault, Mali danced closer, hips swaying until she stood directly in front of the dom. Using the tip of her finger against his shoulder, she pushed him back before straddling his lap, a hair's breath of room between them as her hips rolled over him, her forearms now lying across his shoulders. "I'm smart enough to stay out of the syndicate's way. So fuck off with your bullshit. I don't have time to listen to your opinions about me or my profession. You want to play some white knight shit, find someone else."

[ethan-portcado]

It’s not like she owed him anything. It’s been a long time since they were anything to each other, if they ever had been. “Good to know some things were true.” He can hear the snap in his own tone - it's bitter and petty and all the things Ethan didn't want to appear to be and regrets it immediately. He hopes at least the latter doesn't show on his face, features forced still.

It lasts a moment before Mali's pushing him back, one finger on his shoulders and Ethan folds like he always did before. The dimmed lighting is a small miracle that doesn't show the way his neck tints pink when Mali climbs in his lap. "And how long do you think exactly you'll manage to keep it like that?" His heart picks up a beat when she leans close, leaning forward and Ethan's eyes dart down to her lips before he forces his gaze upwards. It's annoying how even now he found her the prettiest woman he's seen. "White knight?" The dom scoffed, jaw ticked. "Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but the days I cared are long gone."

[art-of-shibari]

[ethan-portcado]