"uhhhh, arrest"

Kim Junmyeon | 27 | Lead Investigator R/S: Just don't be boring.

[spdxjunmyeon]

.

[ctzxluhan]

What's a cop without his donuts? ❀ Han + Joonmyun

[ctzxluhan]

Han followed the arc displayed when Junmyeon moved his arm and took in the state of the office and all the papers that were scattered around and even to that poor potted plant that had been sent to its premature death by crashing against the floor and being abandoned there to rot. It was easy to figure out what Junmyeon was expecting of him but that didn’t mean it didn’t cause Han to frown considerably at the lead investigator while the other went on to describe the state of his office and how he would pay him back with donuts, of all things. Han knew though that the reward, if he so decided to help, would be more than just the donuts. That didn’t mean he approved of the other’s methods though.

"Is that even legal?" he asked before he could stop himself, his frown disappearing from his face to leave place for some bewilderment. He cleared his throat almost instantly though when he remembered that he shouldn’t be speaking questioning what’s legal or what isn’t when he had been caught red-handed while stealing a sweater and that he was staying in this country without legal papers to authorize his stay. His attention returned to Junmyeon when the investigator slammed his fist on the desk, startling Han and making him look at the other in puzzlement as he wondered what might have lead the other man to do this. That’s when he received the other’s condolences and he wondered if they were sincere, but he still whispered a soft "Thank you" in return.

He remained mostly quiet as the other bustled around the office while in search for papers he would end up needing for the task at end. Still even as Junmyeon reassured him that he had done nothing wrong and that he better believed it, Han finally felt the need to say something so he sat up straighter on his chair, sliding his ass to the edge of it and observing Junmyeon with a certain interest. “Thank you…for thinking like that and taking the time to use your head instead of just following whatever they actually teach in police academy about what makes a criminal and what doesn’t. I know not everyone would have been as understanding as you’ve been so far.” He bit his lip and hesitated before continuing with what he wanted to say.

"Are you sure that this is something you have time to deal with though? I don’t want you to make my case a priority if you have more important cases to deal with." Somehow, he just felt like a lead investigator should make better use of his time than just filling legal papers for an illegal Chinese immigrant. Surely there were crimes that needed to be solved and bigger fishes to catch. He stood up after he got obviously dismissed though he was a bit lost as to what kind of story the investigator might want to hear later on but this was something he could think about while trying to put some order to this office.

Not knowing where brooms and cleaning products were being kept, and this was the part where he paused and wondered why this whole mess had not been cleaned by a janitor in the first place, Han eventually decided to start by trying to put some order in the scattered paper. He decided to start by gathering all the file folders, some still with sheets of papers in them and others completely empty. He orderly placed them on the floor and read each label on them before starting to gather the scattered pages. Most of them seemed to be notes handwritten by Junmyeon himself but others were official reports typed neatly. He did his best not to look at the content since most of these seemed to appear confidential if the label on certain files seemed to be anything to go by. It was hard not to look though so he ended up learning about some names and weapons use and the nature of certain crimes.

It took him quite a few minutes just to clear a small square of the office though he was soon standing back up, holding a pile of thick folders which he then neatly placed on a corner of Junmyeon’s desk after clearing the space. He then beamed proudly at the investigator, obviously pleased with what he had managed to accomplish thus far.

[spdxjunmyeon]

Once Junmyeon got off the phone his mood was considerably aggravated.  Of course, his mood tended to always be considerably aggravated whenever he interacted with any member of the human race.  Perhaps it was even getting hard to tell if he was aggravated or not, because he was so aggravated all the time that aggravated was now his normal mood.  Sighing deeply, he tossed the phone carelessly onto a stack of important papers that he would work on later, watching as it slid off and clattered to the floor.  This aggravated him deeply, so he simply ignored it, letting it sit there on the floor while examining the work that Han had done on his office, discernibly impressed with the dramatic reduction in paper clutter everywhere.  "Very nice," he said to himself, though he did not really mind of Han heard or not, "Good."

With that, Junmyeon proceeded to begin filling in the various forms which he was supposed to turn in for review the day prior, answering Han's various questions as he did so.  "Of course it's legal," he began, shaking his head and laughing to himself as he spun the pen around in his hand.  "I am a law enforcement bureaucrat.  Everything I choose to do is legal."  Snickering, he waved away his joke and set to work on the forms.  "In all seriousness, it is legal.  I have simply sentenced you to a less unilateral form of civil service.  Of course, I'm supposed to give you a specific sentence, like a thousand hours of civil service or something of the sort, but I'm just going to say I sentence you to civil service until I finish filling in your papers.  Since I'm a unit of the government, you are then working for the public purpose to pay off your 'crime.'"

Examining the form to ensure its completion, Junmyeon nodded to himself and tossed the paper off to some side of his desk which he now deemed an impromptu "finished forms" pile.  He probably had six or seven "finished form" piles scattered about the office, and upon realizing this fact, he deviated slightly from answering Han's inquiries and slapped the paper before demanding, "I need a place to put all these silly forms.  Find me a spare box, or something.  Or hold them for me.  I don't know.  Eat all the donuts and was the donut box and let me put them in there.  Or something."

Almost just as quickly as he had noticed the issue, he brushed the observation aside and proceeded to continue answering Han's concerns.  "I have time for whatever I want to deal with.  You are correct in your assumption that I have bigger things to deal with, but just because I am filling out your forms does not mean that this is my priority.  It certainly is not.  In fact your forms will probably be finished a very, very long time from now, but they will be prioritized in my spare time which I am sure I will have much of after I finish my current most pressing case.  Now, I am going to go out to fetch your papers from incompetent asses at the citizenship bureau.  Is there anything you need to better tidy this slop of a place when I return?"

[spdxjongdae]

Cockfights x { Jongdae + Junmyeon }

[spdxjongdae]

Everything about Junmyeon’s reactions reminded Jongdae of a pressure cooker. He could just picture the steam building up and if this was to keep growing, there was a high chance of explosion. He wasn’t the best at reading other people by looking at their body language. His speciality was more in the analysis of  digital files and computer programming but there were still obvious signs that he could not ignore like the fact the other man seemed about ready to slap him and then a bit later, the drumming of his fingers against the desk. Jongdae didn’t say anything though and continued to smile although he had to admit that he was probably sporting quite the shit-eating grin by that point.

"You say you don’t have an obsession, but you know exactly the amount of folders you have for the guy and I bet that if I was asking you, you would be able to tell me exactly what can be found in folder number thirty-five,” he replied, giving a random number and hoping that Junmyeon would take the bait and answer him because that would just add to his amusement.  ”Hell, I bet if I wanted to play twenty questions with Kim Jongin, I would get better answers from you than I would if I was to ask him directly. What’s the brand of the motorcycle he’s riding? What’s the size of his pants? What’s his favorite gum flavor?” he teasingly asked only to end up widening his eyes when he got told to put his foot down.

He snorted and gave the other a ‘are-you-serious-right-now’ look before putting his foot down and using the new leverage to push his hips up, effectively raising his ass off the chair so he could reach into the front pocket of his jeans. He came back with a wrapped lollipop. The shape it had made in the pocket of his jeans had been hidden from view up until now thanks to the length of Jongdae’s shirt. He lowered his hips until his ass was touching the seat of the armchair once again and he returned his foot to its previous position on his thigh. “Why? It’s not resting on your thigh,” he started and held himself back from informing Junmyeon that he thought he had nice thighs that would probably make a good resting place for anything from Jongdae’s legs to his head because wow, that would have been inappropriate on his first day. “And it’s not on your desk either,” he finished. It’s not like he was being impolite. The other wasn’t getting a good view of his crotch after all since his leg was mostly hiding that from view and the shirt he was wearing was, again, long enough to cover it.

He slowly unwrapped the lollipop and then brought it to his mouth. He didn’t obnoxiously lick it or anything like that, he kept his lips closed around it and after swirling his tongue around it a few times, he took it out of his mouth so he could talk.”You know what I think? I think that all those folders are not going to help you catch this guy. You’re obsessing too much over him. I bet you’re trying to understand how he thinks and well, I’m no psychology student but I don’t think you can ever really know what someone’s thinking about. Hell, you could be thinking about wanting to eat an hamburger right now and I could say that I think you’re thinking about some important golf tournament on TV. Point is, you need evidence and it seems you’re lacking in that department.”

He leaned back in his chair and popped the lollipop back into his mouth for added effect.

[spdxjunmyeon]

Junmyeon did not know what was in folder number thirty-five, the primary reason for that being that there were precisely four folder number thirty-fives layered into the one-hundred-and-three main folders he had and he did not know which one Jongdae was talking about.  In the first folder number thirty-five there was information about Kim Jongin's murder techniques, which contained detailed annotations on the crime scene pictures and morgue photos, most of which were not useful at all but were taken because Junmyeon found them interesting.  In the second folder number thirty-five there was information about what weapons Kim Jongin used and where he believed them to come from.  In the third folder number thirty-five there was nothing; it had been there simply because Junmyeon believed there needed to be a subfolder number thirty-five in that particular folder and that he would need it eventually.  And in the fourth folder number thirty-five, which was not a subfolder, there were luckily only thirty-four folders, all of which were empty but that he knew would be used because he felt like it and he was always right.

Of course, he knew the correct answers to all the other things Jongdae was asking him except for what Kim Jongin's favorite gum flavor was, because he had never been around Kim Jongin when he was chewing gum. All the other things certainly did not qualify an obsession.  Those were just things that he should know as the primary investigator with regards to The Case of Kim Jongin.  "I am sure if you were aware of what is required to be a thorough investigator," he began, drumming his fingers faster than light speed at this point, "you would not so blindly classify my meticulousness as an obsession.  Your ignorance is astounding—"

Unsure of how to react when Jongdae raised his hips off the chair to pull a lollipop out of his pocket, Junmyeon simply eyed the path of the hand reaching into his pocket, following it down through his pocket and then back up again when he held the lollipop in front of him.  At this point, he was sure that the force of the vehement undertone in his voice was strong enough to be pushing Jongdae through several different ethnicities per second.  Under his insolent Korean looks, he was turning Irish and then Mexican and then Kenyan and then Cuban and then Korean all over again.  Only none of them could tell, because it probably did not feel like anything when one changed ethnicities, and Jongdae's appearance was not changing at all.

"If it had been on my thigh," he growled, folding his hands and then unfolding them and then folding them again, "I would have you incarcerated for sexual assault and also have you neutered and feed your testes to the cannibal locked up in cell #32.  I am more than aware of my lack of evidence, and that which I lack my folders will lead me to.  I don't know what you know about investigative duties but I assure you I know what I am doing.  And of course I need to figure out what he's thinking—if you knew anything at all, you insolent fool, you would know that you track criminals by figuring out who they are targeting and where they will target them.  Only it usually happens to be much less frustrating, and," he added, in a meager attempt to spite the other, "I am not thinking about either hamburgers or golf tournaments. Please put your foot down. I really will feed your testes to the cannibals."

[antxhayi-deactivated20140409]

wild question ¤ junmyeon ' hayi

Wide awake. No friends. Empty house. There is literally nothing to do inside Hayi’s home. The TV that was meant to be fixed weeks ago still sat in the living room, a huge spider web-like crack drawn across the screen. She blames her mother for what had happened to her poor TV, another reason added to the list of why she despises and should poison her food one of these days. While lying on the sofa, the sound of the street life outside muffled by the windows, she heard a soft buzzing from somewhere on the ground, somewhere underneath her….

Realising that she had just abandoned her phone after throwing a tantrum of boredom, she let herself roll off the sofa and reached for the ringing phone underneath it, arms reaching into the darkness blindly looking for the source of the buzzing. Once she felt the cold, hard object underneath her fingertips, a victorious smile pulled on to her features, clasping around the object as she pulled it out. Leaning back against the sofa she let her eyes scan the screen, only to let the smile wipe off immediately when she read who it was from.

[ (1) unread text – the bitch ]

Hayi rolled her eyes and deleted the message without even bothering to read it. Probably sleeping at some dude’s house again.. It’s been days since she last saw her mother (she doesn’t mind it—she prefers it this way, actually) and the loneliness she once felt after the divorce that happened years ago started to wrap around her frail little body once again. Shaking the cold thoughts away she pulled her phone out again, looking through the contact hoping to find someone, anyone to play with.

But to her disappointment, no matter how many messages she sent out, they all either replied with ‘I’m busy’ or worse—no reply at all. Sighing as she read the last message, an idea had popped into her mind and so she tapped on the keypad, entering the most random set of numbers she could choose from.

[text;] what do you think about butts?

With a satisfied smile on her face, she pressed the send button and waited, hoping for a reply

[spdxjunmyeon]

It was one of those late nights where Junmyeon found he had nothing to do.  This was, essentially, every night.  Work had long since grown terrifyingly simple, or perhaps it was that he was not looking hard enough for trouble.  Below the utopian façade of Seoul's city lights, he knew there simmered a million different ways to make trouble and to find trouble; if he looked hard enough, he would find it.  So tonight, with a notepad that he would not use and his computer screen glowing in front of him, he cracked his knuckles and began to seek out trouble.

Somewhere along the myriad of notes he made on various locked websites to have Jongdae look into this and stray thoughts of maybe over a cup of coffee, he was distracted from his trouble-seeking by the angry and incessant buzzing of his phone.  "Shut up," he mumbled, suddenly acutely aware of how bored and exhausted he was.  "Shut up, I'm busy."

Regardless, he reached for his phone, prepared to scroll through the list of alerts he had ignored so that he could ignore them more—when he saw a rather peculiar and out-of-place message at the very top.  Among texts prefaced with "URGENT" and "MURDER CASE RE-OPENED" and "CLASSIFIED INFORMATION" there stood at the top a simple, lapslock question from a number he did not recognize that caught his attention.

what do you think about butts?

Genuinely confused by who would send him such a thing at such an hour, Junmyeon brought the phone closer to his face and peered at the notification, furrowing his eyebrows, as though peering at the notification would transform the message into one of the boring "URGENT" or "MURDER CASE RE-OPENED" or "CLASSIFIED INFORMATION" messages which told him information that he already knew.  As if he furrowed his eyebrows hard enough, he would be able to stare straight through the phone and magically transport his gaze through the lines of telecommunication to meet this person who he did not know and who was so curious to know what he thought about rotund behinds.

Junmyeon had always had a sixth sense for seeking out trouble, or so he liked to think.  He could smell trouble in between bricks and behind walls and even inside the offices of the police department, where there resided officials who worked their ways up to bring the department down more than it already brought itself down.  And this message, he decided, smelled much more like trouble than any of the ones that actually told him there was trouble.

Unlocking his phone, he opened the message and squinted at it for a while longer before entering his reply.

I do not think anything in particular about butts, but I think that yours is looking for trouble.

[ctzxluhan]

What's a cop without his donuts? ❀ Han + Joonmyun

[ctzxluhan]

After his word vomit had stopped and after the silence stretched in the office for what seemed like hours but were probably just a few seconds, the inspector had spoken again and Han swiftly looked up with wide eyes when it was announced that nothing he had said was working against him. What? Was the other man joking? Was he trying to give him false hope? It couldn’t be this easy otherwise if he had known, he would have showed up at the police department sooner and get everything sorted out then. There was one particular thing the investigator said though that caught his attention and he wrinkled his nose without being aware of it. “I don’t see how I could be of use to you,” he replied as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the other with newfound suspicions. Someone had turned him into their personal slave in exchange for keeping their mouths shut about the fact Han had tried to steal from them. This current situation was reminding him too much of that. At the same time though, he did want to stay in Korea…

This Kim Junmyeon was asking him about his brother though and that was something Han didn’t like to talk about because his brother had been everything to him and he still missed him even if Chun had died three years ago. He also didn’t know how much he should tell and how much he should keep to himself but so far there was nothing that seemed too shady about that investigator. Han usually didn’t give out his trust very easily and he was hoping that by confiding in this man, he wouldn’t end up making a big mistake. Before he could start on the story though, it was best to tell the other his name as it had been demanded of him.

"Han, my name’s Han. Last name is Lu." He reluctantly gave out his last name but knew he had to if the other was going to take care of paperwork for him. "Chun and I, back in China, we used to work in a bar so we could save money and get by on our own. I don’t know the details as it was my brother who was taking care of most things regarding our work and our pay but one day we were offered the opportunity to go work here in Korea. Our boss said that he had some friends here and that they could hire us in their bar. They arranged our visas, we paid for our tickets and took a plane here. When we arrived, a group of men were waiting for us at the airport. They took us to the apartment building where we were going to live in. Chun decided he didn’t want me to work and that I should stay at home. I protested but eventually agreed. I took care of him…not enough though…." He trailed off then and stared at a point on the wall facing him.

"I don’t know what he did exactly for them. Maybe he just worked at the bar…but I think at some point he became a dealer. Chun was often either drunk or high off his mind. He died by overdose and I’m the one who found him. I didn’t want to end up like him and if I stayed there, I was sure the men who had ‘hired’ us would come after me. I don’t know why they never came after me…maybe because Chun requested it…and he paid the price for it." It was hard to think about. To wonder if his brother had died from trying to keep him safe from harm. "I gathered all the money I could, had his body cremated and I buried him on the outskirts of the cemetery. After that, I kept moving around town, finding abandoned buildings to spend the night and eventually I got offered a job as housekeeper for a brothel."

There were loopholes in his story, but he had already told the investigator more than he had originally planned to so he decided it was okay if he didn’t tell him everything in details.

[spdxjunmyeon]

"You don't see how you could be of use to me?" Junmyeon laughed aloud, raising an eyebrow and gesturing around his office.  Papers were scattered over every surface, files strewn across the floor; in one corner of his office, there were the remnants of a smashed flowerpot from one of his more potent moments of frustration: clumps of dried dirt lay in splotches over the tile, and bits of the plant that had previously resided in it lay dead and withering all over the tile.  "My office looks like a dying dinosaur ravaged it for some kind of miracle and then got struck through the roof by a monster meteor from the deepest recesses of space.  Mr. Housekeeper, I'm inclined to say you can be of very much use to me.  I'll even throw in the donuts some silly subordinate suck-up dropped off at my office this morning if you'll just get rid of the primitiveness of this place."

Jokes aside, Junmyeon immediately stood up once Han finished his story and melodramatically slammed his fist on the table, although after doing so he really had no idea what point he was trying to make by slamming his fist on the table.  He might have just scared the living shit out of the other after he'd bared his soul to him—well, not quite, since it wasn't really, really as specific as he wanted to get, but close enough considering that he was suddenly unbearably aware of the state of his office.  "You have my condolences," he stated, hastily, and then sauntered over to one of the file cabinets propped up against the wall and began sifting through it, tossing papers every which way as he searched for the documents he would need, or at least an example of what he would need as to be able to properly request for it.

"Thank you for imparting with me the information I have requested.  I am not like your average law enforcement bureaucrat, as I hope you have noticed, because the average law enforcement bureaucrat is nothing but a skeleton wrapped in flesh with no brain.  My goal here, rather than just to compare your actions to that silly list of do's and don't's we call the law and to throw you in jail if you have lots of don't's, is to ensure that people are properly punished for their misdeeds—but you see, can I really say you have committed a misdeed if it is for the sake of survival?" Pulling out a file from the cabinet which he finally decided not to throw on the floor, Junmyeon began flipping through the papers, furrowing his eyebrows as he did so.  "To say that I should throw you in jail and have you deported for stealing a sweatshirt in the dead of winter when you have no money is to say that those who kill in self-defense should be given over to capital punishment.  Both are equally as ludicrous to me! Actually, perhaps the former is more so, for I can rather convictively state that you did not hurt anyone in the process of stealing a sweater.

"I noted your confusion when I said nothing was working against you, and I'm sure at this point you understand why.  If you do not, I should have to incarcerate you for having an IQ too low to be legal.  Then again, ninety-nine percent of the human population should be incarcerated for having IQs too low to be legal, so I suppose I can't do that.  Do you see now, Han, why I am doing this for you—ahem, if you agree to do some office-keeping for me, of course?" Slamming the papers down on the desk and flopping down in his chair, Junmyeon glanced over the papers again before pulling out his phone and dialing the citizenship bureau.

"You, Han, are a good person.  Why should I throw you in jail for that? Now go have a donut and clean this place up, and tell me a nice story after I get off this phone call while you're at it—I'm bored."

[spdxjunmyeon]

Junmyeon frowns.

He doesn’t have any cousins who would marry him. This card is pointless. He tucks it in with the others and continues eating Jia’s boxes of chocolates.

He probably wouldn’t marry his cousins, anyway; feeling that it’s necessary, he takes the card back out and writes: the feeling is not mutual, then leaves it on his desk to return later.

[spdxjunmyeon]

"Jongdae," he states to himself aloud, voice devoid of any theatrics or emotion. "No."

[spdxjunmyeon]

-a little note is attached to the candy flower; it states the company and logo of it on one side while the other there’s a typed message- “Happy Valentine’s Day!” -a heart is drawn around the message-

Junmyeon groans in exasperation. Human emotions are stupid. Days celebrating them are even worse. He makes a note to leave the flower for Luhan with the leftover donut box from yesterday.

He is drowning in stupidity.

[spdxjunmyeon]

It was hard to miss the pile of chocolate boxes on Junmyeon’s desk, with a small note taped to the top one:

Happy Valentine’s Day, boss! I hope you have a date for tonight, so here’s some extra to give to them. If not, go find one

Upon walking into his office, Junmyeon’s field of view was impeded by a rather… copious stack of golden boxes. Pursing his lips and hoping it wasn’t attributed to the occasion at hand, he took the note—only to realize it was indeed attributed to the occasion at hand. Feeling a mixture between loneliness and contempt at the whole display, he set the note aside and glared with accusation at the boxes, before finally picking one up and deciding to eat one whole box himself and save the others for some day in the far future when he had someone to give them to. Upon further scrutiny, he made a mental note to give one of the boxes back as a token of appreciation.

[spdxjongdae]

Cockfights x { Jongdae + Junmyeon }

[spdxjongdae]

Junmyeon’s reactions were exactly what Jongdae had expected to get when he had informed the lead investigator of his knowledge regarding his current investigation. It was currently taking him all he had not to start laughing so he was biting his lip but was not able to wipe the smug grin off his face. He snorted when the investigator denied his obsession for this Kim Jongin and tried his best to conceal this moment by a cough as if his saliva had just gone down the wrong tube. He could tell though that he would be having a lot of fun teasing Junmyeon in the future though because he had been here for less than an hour now and he already had the other wound up tight and ready to snap. It probably wasn’t all his doing though if what he had seen from his hacking was any indication.

He shrugged as a simple answer since the other didn’t wait for confirmation before stalking back to his office. Since he was free to talk with his colleagues to know what they were currently working on and if they needed his help with something, he knew it was okay for him to spend a bit more time with Junmyeon and have a bit of fun in the process. He followed behind him at a nonchalant pace and quietly closed the door after himself once he had stepped into the office. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to find there exactly but there was something familiar about how the room seemed to be in total chaos. It reminded Jongdae of his own bedroom where wires, nuts and bolts, tools and metallic sheets were scattered all over the place and how, despite the chaos, he could still easily find what he was looking for. He didn’t know if that was the case for Junmyeon or not though.

He walked to the nearest armchair with obvious confidence and plop down on it, immediately leaning forward and whistling when he saw the plaque with Junmyeon’s name and title on it. He picked it up from the desk and brought it closer, weighting it in his palms before returning it to the desk after inspection. He turned, angling his body toward Junmyeon before addressing him. “How about you come take a seat?” he said, leaning to the side and reaching out to pat the other armchair next to his. “You look a bit tense and these chairs really are comfortable.” He grinned before rolling his shoulders and making himself comfortable, bringing his right leg up  and resting his ankle on his left thigh.

"So Kim Jongin, huh?" he started, briefly looking down at his nails before glancing over at Junmyeon and watching his reaction attentively. "You say he’s not an obsession but do you know the amount of folders you have just for this kid?" he asked, knowing that it would be more hilarious in the long run to make Junmyeon believe he knew less about this case than he had first let on after all only to shatter his sense of safety later by exposing the more obscure details he had found.

[spdxjunmyeon]

Junmyeon watched with a certain level of irritation as Jongdae casually strolled into his office and casually took a seat in an arbitrary on of his chairs.  Though he'd initially claimed to take a liking to the boy, his cocky attitude with regards to his TOTALLY NOT CORRECT AT ALL OBSERVATIONS (very correct observations) made him want to smack him in the face.  Of course, just as he had to remind himself almost every hour of every day, smacking people in the face was not professional and highly looked down upon in the higher ranks of society, and it was overall not a very intelligent way to express one's emotions.  So he stood and seethed at the other's I'm-going-to-pretend-I'm-choking-on-my-spit-even-though-I-think-your-embarrassment-is-abso-fucking-lutely-hilarious laughter, watching with a boiling sort of rage—even more boiling than his usual level—as the other began to tinker around with his fancy nameplate.

How about you come take a seat.  HoW ABOUT YOU COME TAKE A FUCKING SEAT.  Junmyeon was pretty sure he wanted to explode in the other guy's face.  It was his office! His! Not Jongdae's! Who the hell did this guy think he was, strolling in without his approval and getting called into the ranks of the Seoul Police Department? He couldn't say for certain that the guy was like the others, given that he'd already shown quite some level of Very Not Usual, and very begrudgingly, he had to admit, he did seem kind of intelligent in his cocky and casual manners—but still, he was so rude.  Junmyeon really wanted to smack him in the face.  Hard.

Instead of smacking him in the face, which he really, really wanted to do, Junmyeon sauntered over to his own chair on the other side of the desk and took a very dignified sit, straightening out his tie as he did so, face stoic as the rage within burned him like a thousand burning suns of fury (that all wanted to smack Jongdae in the face).  "I'm aware that my own damned chairs are very comfortable," he grumbled to himself, drumming his fingers on his desk as a way to prevent himself from using his hand to smack the entitlement straight out of Jongdae's stupid, self-assured soul, "I picked them myself—"

He was cut off by the astounding music of the other's rudeness as he casually lifted his foot up and rested it on his thigh, eye barely twitching in annoyance as he watched the stupid entitled Jongdae-foot and drummed his fingers faster to prevent himself from smacking the new hacker or whatever the fuck he was into another ethnicity.  He was going to smack him so hard that he turned Irish and then Mexican and then Kenyan and then Cuban and then Korean all over again.  The nerve! (It was slightly admirable, actually. Very.  Yes, he definitely liked this guy.)  He hated him to the core.  Hated him into another ethnicity.  "Yes, Kim Jongin," he repeated, eyeing the other with so much hatred (also admiration) that he might have burned a hole through his existence.  "Just because I have exactly one-hundred-and-three folders of Kim Jongin does not mean I have an obsession.  What obsession? I don't know what you're talking about.  Complex cases demand complex organization methods.  I would be undermining both my own abilities and his if I were to categorize him as anything less than complex.  I am certainly not obsessed, I do not get obsessed with things, I am not obsessed with Kim Jongin." At this point, though he did not realize it, he was drumming his fingers at almost light-speed on the tabletop.  "Please put your foot down."

[ctzxluhan]

What's a cop without his donuts? ❀ Han + Joonmyun

[ctzxluhan]

Unless you are a thief, a brothel worker, and an illegal immigrant. The words were ringing in Han’s ears and he did his best to not visibly gulp down the lump that had formed in his throat because he was, as a matter of fact, everything the investigator had just said would be working against him if they turned out to be true. There was little solace in the fact he wasn’t prostituting himself at that moment because even though he wasn’t selling his body, he was still working in a brothel and he knew this wasn’t exactly the most respectable job there was around. At least the investigator seemed inclined to listen to him completely before passing a judgement which was better so far than what had happened in all the scenarios his mind had created. He was willing to say the truth to this man, but he wasn’t planning on letting him know that he had a hard time accepting help from others and preferred to earn things on his own.

"I always take matters into my own hands!" He finally snapped, feeling like Junmyeon’s insinuations were a total attack to his person. With that, the gates had been opened and the words came pouring out. "I arrived four years ago with my older brother and he worked hard so I could stay safe at home but then, but then I found him one day and then there was the funeral which I didn’t even have money for. I couldn’t stay there because it would have been too dangerous. I didn’t want them to find me and be forced to do what my brother did and then end up dead like him.  I had nothing left until I got offered to work in the brothel I still work at. I’m not prostituting myself. I’m doing housekeeping. I can’t get a better job because my working visa probably expired three years ago."

His chest was heaving by the time he was done and he clamped his mouth shut, feeling like he had revealed more than he had originally intended to. His fingers curled over the denim covering his thighs and his head lowered so he could hide the fact he was once again battling prickling tears. Even after three years, thinking about his brother’s death was still painful because it was a constant reminder that he had lost every family members, blood-related or not. “I don’t have a social security number…or the Korean equivalent at least…I don’t even know what my Chinese one is. That’s why I can’t open a bank account or even rent an apartment to my name.” He didn’t say that there was a high chance he wouldn’t understand most of the legal paperwork anyway because it was bound to be full of complex words he would have never seen before.

"Please…I don’t want to go back to China," he pleaded with a tiny voice that was very uncharacteristic of him but at this point, he was pretty sure he had hit rock bottom and there was not much else he could do other than beg to be left alone. He had always fought, no matter what life had thrown at him so far, but now he was getting tired. He had received too many blows and maybe it was time for him to surrender. He no longer had the energy.

[spdxjunmyeon]

As the other spoke, Junmyeon did his best to keep his expression nonchalant to maintain an air of acceptance, despite the fact that he was taking each and every fact and filing them away in his head as either good or bad statements of the boy's character so that he could judge them all later.  On the inside, though, he almost felt as though the boy were panicking a little too much; none of the things he had recanted as of yet seemed to argue a terrible case against him—rather, it was quite the opposite—yet by the end of his first spiel his chest was heaving, gaze focused steadily downwards.  A very, very obscure part of the inspector wanted to cock an eyebrow at the boy and tell him to calm down, that nothing he'd said had really hurt his cause, that he was okay and that Junmyeon in fact appreciated his honesty and independence.  But sympathy was something he had trained himself long, long ago to ignore, so he sat silent, watching as the other stared down on the denim of his jeans.

He didn't quite understand why he was looking down, anyway—wasn't that only something people should do if they were ashamed? Or perhaps, if they were lying? Junmyeon could tell very easily from his tone that he was indeed sincere; the conviction and fervidity with which he spoke was enough of an indication for him, the slight accent on his Korean a fair indicator that the boy hadn't the resources in the language to properly construct a lie so quickly and so convincingly, anyway.  So what was he looking down for? If anything, the inspector considered the boy very dignified.  There was no reason for him to be so aggressively avoiding his gaze.  Nonetheless, he neglected to make a statement of it; it would be pointless to, anyway, and perhaps would disrupt the sense of security he had provided for the foreign boy.  As such, he remained quiet until the boy spoke of his illegal citizenship.

Given his conditions, Junmyeon was inclined to ask for specifics.  It wasn't as though he was suspicious of the boy's motives—he'd already gone into the investigation knowing that he didn't want to be sent to jail or deported from the country—but the inspector had decided from the beginning that this boy deserved the benefit of the doubt.  Perhaps it was a sixth sense he took pride in, or just his psychological intuition kicking in (most likely the latter), but this boy stood out to him as one deserving the benefit of the doubt.  Just as he had been about to ask for the other to expound on the vague story given, the other spoke again, and Junmyeon couldn't help but chuckle at his repeated request.

"Well," he began, picking up his pen and tapping on the desk, "I'm inclined to say at this point that nothing you've said so far really argues against your case.  I believe that you could be... somewhat excused and—because I think you could be of use to me—I will more seriously consider keeping you in Korea.  Legally, of course.  However, I believe I want to ask additional, perhaps less imperative questions before I request to have papers provided for you.  Would you like to relay to me your brother's situation in more detail, and how it affects you? Deaths are hard to think about, I am aware, so further research I may be able to do myself, but understand that waiting for me to look into your situation on my own will postpone your freedom, so to speak, and I'll perhaps have you detained until I can gather sufficient information on my own.  Also, I don't believe I've asked for your name? Such a thing would be important for my purposes."

[spdxjongdae]

Cockfights x { Jongdae + Junmyeon }

[spdxjongdae]

After his introduction had been made by his superior, some of his new colleagues walked up to him and offered their hands for handshakes while welcoming him into the team. There was only one person who was standing further from the group and who didn’t show any signs of desire to come any closer. Jongdae’s eyebrows shoot up when the man demanded that someone bring Jongdae to him so he could question him and Jongdae’s automatic reaction was to snort out loud because seriously, who did this man think he was?

Actually, Jongdae knew exactly who that person was. His research had informed him that this man was actually one of the lead investigators of Seoul’s Police. He knew his name and had seen pictures of him but there was one thing his research hadn’t told him and that was anything about the investigator’s personality. He was getting to see it now though or at least some aspect of it because of course there had to be more than this feeling of superiority simmering in the other man. One of Jongdae’s new colleague leaned toward him and raised his hand to cup it around his ear before he could whisper in it. “That’s Kim Junmyeon, our lead investigator….I’d try to stay out of his way if you want to stay alive”. He almost burst out laughing at the ridiculous words that had just been whispered into his ear but there was no doubt this Kim Junmyeon was going to be a challenge and one he was more than ready to face.

He stayed put as the investigator observed him though he was unable to hide the upward tug of his lips that came with the obvious amusement he was getting out of this situation. His amusement almost turned to disbelief when Junmyeon declared that he liked him. How in hell was the other’s mind working? What had made him decide that he liked Jongdae just by looking at him when minutes ago he seemed about ready to strangle him for being the new guy around. As soon as Junmyeon waved everyone away, they scattered away like scared little mice, going back to their cubicles or offices though they didn’t get back to work right away. He could feel their gazes still on them, curious to see what the new guy would do while faced with the ‘moody’ investigator.

"Are you sure that you want me to answer this in front of everyone?" he answered after letting his gaze wander around the room only to focus it back on the man standing in front of him. His voice had rang loud and clear as he was not afraid to let anyone overhear what he was saying. He did lower his voice right afterward though and made sure to lean toward Junmyeon, arms crossed over his chest and smug look firmly in place before he whispered something that was meant only for the investigator’s ears. "Because I have no qualms about sharing your little obsession for a certain Kim Jongin to the entire department."

[spdxjunmyeon]

All attempts at keeping his usual calm—if his melodramatic declarations and bordering-on-inane gesticulations were any indication that he was calm—were cut off abruptly by the mention of one very particular name he had come here solely for the purpose of avoiding.  He'd stopped moving his hands mid-gesture and let his words stop before they reached his lips, panic and confusion coursing wildly through his mind as he quirked an eyebrow at the newcomer and wondered to himself what he should do.  He could either continue with his regular theatrical routine of overwhelming self-confidence and declare that he did not mind at all, or he could bring the mischievous devil offspring into his office and listen there to how his investigations were being interpreted.  

While he was not a professional in data encryption, he considered his notes rather safe—thus, he'd had no problems with making a blatantly obvious statement about his piqued interest in Kim Jongin's case above all others.  With a single glance at his case notes, perhaps not even half a minute of browsing, anyone would be able to tell that this case was something he was genuinely pursuing: not only was there a single folder named "Kim Fucking Jongin" amongst piles and piles of unsorted notes with no more than three lines of "tell everyone that the culprit is so-and-so and that they are such-and-such-of-an-insult-to-the-SPD," but inside the folder there were about twenty or thirty other folders—several of which were still empty, more of which had three or four subfolders, and most of which had well-labeled, detailed notes (with the occasional unprofessional commentary of "god fucking dammit you stupid shit" or "whY THE FUCK ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT" or, the worst, "it seems that he is a little too talented at appealing to my sense of the obscene, no wonder he was a fucking prostitute").

This was certainly not something anyone else needed to know, he decided, and quirking an eyebrow at the other after no more than the briefest of pauses, he folded his hands behind his back and narrowed his eyes.  "I have no obsession for a certain Kim Jongin; he is certainly a fascinating case but of fascinating cases it can be said there are many, and he is nothing special." Lies, Junmyeon, lies. "But of course, if you'd prefer, we can talk about this in my office in a more solitary endeavor.  Is that something you would prefer? Of course it is, so, shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, Junmyeon turned away and stalked off towards his door, peeking behind him once to check whether Jongdae was following or not, and then turning back and continuing forward.

He could only hope that Jongdae had not found the notes in the last folder at the end, labelled "Miscellaneous," where he may or may not have said anything about the location of Kim Jongin's various photos in his nightstand drawer.

[spdxjongdae]

Read More

[spdxjunmyeon]

yes i have an idea of where he would be spot in junmyeon's life too but where do you think i wont say what i think but i think we are thinking the same thing

[spdxjunmyeon]

omg I’m crying and I wish you were online right now because REASONS hahahahaha

sobs i swear i'll actually be on sometime soon (after january 15, to be exact, bc i have a big fic due then and then after that i'll be freEEE except for homework orz) i wish i couLD BE ON RIGHT NOW TBH but i have to get through other replies as well and work on the fiC SCREAMS TH E F IC 

((((btw i updated the rls page and put luhan there !!11!!1!!1!!1 if u want we can discuss where jongdae might end up and yadda yadda whatsit whNEVER I FCKN GET MY BUTTOCKS ON SKYPE LMAO))

[spdxjunmyeon]

((i hope you all have a good laugh bc 27 y/o virgin junmyeon is back and embarrassing himself even more))

[exarcxjongin]

Paparazzi | Junmyeon & Jongin

[exarcxjongin]

Jongin simply smirked, playing the part of careless and collected quite well despite Junmyeon’s attempt to pick his actions apart. Junmyeon was always so eager, always so ready to jump the gun in order to gain an inch where Jongin gained a foot and it amused him more than anything. Their encounters had been minimal, having met only once before when Junmyeon had waltzed into the bar on his high horse with the expectation that he would waltz right back out with a handcuffed Jongin in tow but Jongin had worked out how to evade him in that short amount of time and this time would be no different. He had no doubt in his ability to rile Junmyeon up and get out of these situations unscathed. He quirked a brow and inhaled deeply, breathing out the subsequent smoke. “I had one before I got here,” He lied smoothly. “Before I found you stalking me and loitering around my bike. Perhaps I should file a complaint, unlawful harassment. I can only imagine what your colleagues would think of you then. First you can’t do your job and now you’re breaking the laws you’re supposed to enforce.” He clucked his tongue chidingly. “Aren’t psych evaluations required to be an officer? How did you manage to pass yours? I mean, these delusions of yours… they’re getting pretty serious detective.”

As he approached him, Jongin could see the gears working in Junmyeon’s head, cranking and winding to come up with a sufficient enough answer to Jongin’s accusations. He knew for a fact the elder didn’t have a warrant or any sort of proof that Jongin was a serial killer and Jongin had no intention of letting him think up a half-assed excuse as to why he was there. The older male seemed to falter as he got closer and it was when he started running his fingers along his chest that Jongin could see the panic in his eyes. The elder had no idea how to deal with their proximity nor the feigned intimacy of his gestures and Jongin wanted to laugh. The man clearly hadn’t gotten any recently. He bit down his chuckles and smiled up at him instead, lips curling seductively as he eyed him through his bangs. His fingers dipped lower, hooking into his pants and he purposely let the pads of his fingers brush against the flesh peeking from underneath his shirt. Junmyeon was watching his face and Jongin took advantage of the eye contact, letting his teeth catch on his lower lip and gnawing on it just hard enough to bring a rosy hue and a slight swell to his lips.

Jongin’s teasing came to an abrupt end when Junmyeon whacked his hand away and took hold of his wrist, twisting him by the arm and shoving him face first against the wall. He let out a breathless laugh and exaggerated the curves of his body, arching back towards him. “You want to do this here, where anyone can see?” He teased, the nervous fluttering of his heart soothed by Junmyeon’s stuttering. He didn’t have the confidence to actually go through with it and Jongin intended to play on that weakness. “Bondage and exhibitionism. I should have known you’d be the kinky type.” Junmyeon deemed him to be under arrest and Jongin had to fight incredibly hard not to burst out laughing, biting his lip to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. “Have I been a bad boy officer? Are you going to take me back to your car and punish me?” He purred, eyes twinkling with mischief as he gazed over his shoulder at him, letting them roam shamelessly over Junmyeon’s body and purposely stopping just below the belt line. “Whip out that baton of yours and serve justice?”

[spdxjunmyeon]

This was ridiculous—this was absolutely ridiculous.  And even more ridiculous was the notion that the only thing he could identify the situation as was ridiculous, because this situation was indeed a whole myriad of things much more specific and much, much worse then just the feeling of incredulity at himself which came with the word "ridiculous." It was probably illegal, in some way, shape, or form, for the various images and sounds and feelings flashing through his mind right now to really be flashing through his mind; it was definitely immoral to think that any part of him—whether that part was really, consciously controlled by his psyche or not—wanted to take advantage of the criminal's desperation and position to more or less pleasure himself; and, most of all, it was wrong because it was impairing his function in a way such things never had.  And the more he realized how wrong it was, the more flustered he got, and the more flustered he got, the more he thought about how wrong it was.  It was a terrible, inescapable cycle, the wrath of being incapable and unaccustomed to the sensation of a hand on his thigh or light fingers brushing his skin.

The worst thing about all this was that he—counter to Jongin's previous sneering interrogations—was supposed to have a particularly stable mental state.  In fact, he had passed his psychological evaluation with flying colors—it wasn't as if they'd brought in some seductive genius boy eight years younger with him who looked really, unbelievably, divinely, shag-able in handcuffs to touch him and mess with his head through stupid double entendres to screw him over.  But here he was now, the annoying seductive genius boy eight years younger than him, up against a wall in handcuffs asking him some nonsense about batons and justice that really wasn't nonsense at all, because as much as Junmyeon didn't want to, he knew exactly what both sides of the particular double entendre were.  In fact, he wasn't sure which side he wanted more: he could either really whip out his baton and serve some goddamn justice until the idiot would just fucking admit it, or he could whip out his baton and serve a whole new kind of justice.  Then again, being what he considered a man of excessive decency, he couldn't say that the latter option would turn out well for him anyway, because he'd probably fuck up (no pun intended) some way or another, and it was not a very decent thing to do, taking this dumb Kim Jongin asshole (no pun intended, again) up on his offer if it was meant as a means of escaping.  He was fairly certain that, if given a wider range of options, Jongin would certainly not wish to engage in intercourse with him in a sketchy back alley less than a block away from a crime scene, and so taking him up on the offer would undoubtedly be a form of rape, and Junmyeon absolutely did not condone such crimes.

Despite the prideful decency of his thoughts, there were certain areas of the body that were meant to be shameless; surely enough, this entire time, he could feel that very part of shamelessness pushing against the fabric of his pants.  A million different panicked thoughts were rushing through his mind already—the most pathetic of which was the fact that he probably needed to find a significant other soon in order to get rid of this stupid problem that arose from his lack of intimacy with anyone ever, and the second-most-pathetic of which was his mental note to look up whatever the fuck exhibitionism and bondage were on the internet.  And before he really knew it, he was blurting a selection of those thoughts out.  "K-kinky? What kinky? Do what... here? I absolutely, uh, d-don't know what you could p-possibly be talking about!" Shut up, Junmyeon, shut up, god dammit, the handcuffs you idiot, the fucking handcuffs.  Attempting to get a hold of his wits, the investigator let out an involuntary growl of frustration and shoved the criminal against the wall again, ramming him against it with his entire body—a rather unfortunate decision, given the state of his crotch which was now probably incredibly noticeable by the other—tugging his other wrist behind his back and slapping on the handcuffs.  Feeling abruptly exhausted by the whole ordeal, he continued to lean against the other to prevent his escape (or, at least that's what he told himself it was for), and unable to help himself, he muttered rather indignantly, "And my psych evaluation was fine, thank you very much for your concern."

[ctzxluhan]

What's a cop without his donuts? ❀ Han + Joonmyun

[ctzxluhan]

"It does not mean you forget but I really don’t want to go to jail," he whispered. He wondered who would accept to bail him out if he was thrown in jail. He didn’t have the phone number of any of his friends with him since he didn’t have a cellphone of his own. It was always the others who were calling him at the brothel since that’s where Han was most of the time anyway. He’d have no one to call and that terrified him. Now that his hands were handcuffed behind his back though, he couldn’t even hug himself for a bit of comfort and reassurance that everything was going to be alright even though he had no idea if it actually would.

He was following the man back to the police station, yes, but it was obvious he would have preferred to avoid this necessity. As they got closer to the police station, Han grew even more quiet than he had been at this point and kept his head down, gaze fixed on his battered shoes and the holes in them that were letting his un-matching socks show. He hid his nose behind his scarf as best as he could and prayed the floor would just swallow him whole. Unfortunately for him, no such thing happened and he soon found himself sitting in front of a desk, handcuffs still closed around his wrists. He had managed to avoid this kind of situation for three years and he resigned himself to the thought that getting caught was just a matter of time had that point.

He was chewing and gnawing his bottom lip when he heard the question and the comment about his scarf and his head instantly snapped up, body scooting closer to the edge of his chair. “I didn’t steal the scarf!” he exclaimed with widening eyes. “It’s the truth! A customer forgot it at the brothel and it stayed there without being claimed by anyone for weeks so eventually I was just told by the um..the prostitutes that I could take it because it was getting colder outside and…and I had nothing to keep me warm.” He looked at the man and then at the plaque with the name of the man and his position within the department and shit, Han was screwed. There was no way a lead investigator would just let him go.

He felt his bottom lip quiver and promptly looked back down at his knees. He couldn’t cry in front of this man. He couldn’t show weakness. He had fucked up and he needed to deal with the consequences. He was probably going to be sent back to China and he’d have to forget about having a chance to see his friends again. He supposed his life in China wouldn’t be much different than how it was here. He didn’t want to go back though. “I don’t…earn a lot of money,” he started after a moment of silence. His voice was so soft he wouldn’t be surprised if the other man couldn’t hear him. “Everything I earn though, they give it to me in cash…but I can’t keep much on me because it’s too dangerous.” He didn’t mention all the times he had been robbed, both from strangers or from prostitutes at the brothel looking for more cash. What for? He didn’t know.

"I…I’m not from here," he finally admitted in a mumble while avoiding to look at Joonmyun. "I don’t want to be sent back."

[spdxjunmyeon]

"Ah, the prostitutes," Junmyeon repeated, mulling it over in his head.  Not only was the boy a thief who had been caught in the act by a lead investigator, but he had just openly admitted to associating formally with the industry of prostitution, which, despite its widespread nature, was not exactly the most legitimate of industries.  "Very good case to make for your innocence," he noted, struggling to keep himself from laughing, "Brothels are very legitimate establishments.  But I suppose that's not of importance to me; I'm sure plenty of my co-workers are paying customers of the industry themselves, as they're all much too dimwitted to be found attractive by many... or any, at that.  Nonetheless, I'll have you know that working at a brothel does not constitute an easily acceptable response if you're trying to make a case for yourself, but never mind that—I'll reserve my judgements for the end of our brief conversation."

As soon as he'd finished speaking, the boy's lip began to quiver.  The investigator sighed in exasperation, willing himself to just reach over and smack the boy across the face: this was no place for pity games or anything related to it, this was no place to start feeling guilty—rather, the place to stop feeling guilty and start feeling doomed—but smacking the boy across the face was not exactly a very intelligent, Sherlockian way of dealing with things, so he instead waited for the boy to quell his own emotions.  It seemed that he was at least trying to, perhaps steeling himself for what came, and Junmyeon very well took note of that.  The silly thief did not intend to play pity games, at least, and that was something admirable.

Rather than letting his satisfaction with the boy be known, Junmyeon opted to stay stoic.  For now, it was better for the boy to be fearful.  His personal policies of justice were not meant to be taken advantage of, and though he would most likely be able to tell if the other was planning to do so, the investigator was not one to offer windows for such courses of action.  "What do you work at the brothel as, if not a prostitute yourself? Have you ever requested for them to pay you in anything else?" he pressed further, "Checks? Giftcards? Clothes? Food? Is this a problem you've tried to solve? Or have you just taken the cash without question, regardless of said 'dangers' that ensue? Can you not put it in the bank and pay by card? I don't particularly like it when people haven't taken such matters into their own hands—though, I don't expect you to have, either, considering that the average person is too stupid to take any matters into their own hands anyway.  And after you've given me a considerable discourse on that, please elaborate on the latter statement—what was it—oh, yes, not being from here.  I'm assuming then, that you aren't here properly? That would explain the bank predicament as well, am I correct? We can't possibly deport you to anywhere if you've proper paperwork, so unless you are a thief, a brothel worker, and an illegal immigrant, you've no need to worry about that last part."

Tapping his fingers on the desk in an off-rhythm, he cocked an eyebrow before speaking again.  "You do realize that this does not seem to be going in a very... favorable direction for you? Other than that bit about the not having much money, but I already knew that.  I'm inclined to let you know."  This was, in fact, a lie; Junmyeon had already accepted the means of obtaining the scarf in his head as legal enough and the fact that he was trying was all Junmyeon really needed to begin considering any further evidence that the thief was indeed a good person.  It was actually going quite well for him, but there was no way the investigator would let it be known, for the sake of deterring the boy from taking advantage of his reasonableness.  "But never mind that; a promise is a promise, and I do give you my word that I'll reserve my judgements for the end.  If you indeed believe you have proper reason, it's in your best interest to tell me as much as you can.  Trust me."