Chapter Text
For someone who was so impulsive and unsure, Joo Won was always the one to pull away first when others reached out. But not this time.
Ties could be cut, yet Joo Won couldn’t cut his - not that he wanted to.
It started out small. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.
The first time was to consult for a missing person’s cold case: a 17 year old girl, who was reported to have run away from home five years ago. When the case first landed on his desk, it had set off a ton of alarm bells in his head - a sickening sense of familiarity - so he resisted at first. Unfortunately - or more fortunately - he came to a dead end, which led him to his former partner’s door.
A fresh perspective was what he needed.
He definitely didn’t show up awkwardly to Dong Sik’s house without any notice with his files. He definitely did not sit in his car for five minutes, sick to his stomach with anxiety, mulling over what Dong Sik’s expression would be at the door. And he most definitely did not rehearse a little speech in his head, before ringing the doorbell, of what to say to explain his unexpected appearance in town.
What he did not expect was for the man to welcome him so warmly as though he had never left. After hours and hours of reviewing, and several mugs of coffees later, Dong Sik was able to solve it within two days, whereas Joo Won had poured over it for a month, running rounds across three provinces.
“Good thing you came here then,” Dong Sik had joked, and then gently gave Joo Won’s shoulder a pat as if to say, you did well.
In response, Joo Won couldn’t help but preen a little, and agree with a soft murmur.
The second time was when Dong Sik was ill: Ji Hwa had called Joo Won to ask him to pick up flu medication for Dong Sik and check up on him.
“Why me? Why not someone else in town?” Joo Won argued, but it seemed like Ji Hwa already had an arsenal of excuses for this.
“Everyone at the station is busy with the new case and working overtime. Jae Yi is in Busan again so she’s not able to drop by.”
Driving from Seoul to Manyang wasn’t exactly a short commute, but Joo Won had no excuse given his previous history of daily back and forths, so he goes, bringing along a couple bowls of reheatable juk. Yet again, Dong Sik had greeted him at the door with a smile.
“My saviour,” he teased before ushering Joo Won in, causing Joo Won’s poor heart to do little flips in his chest.
Apart from the obvious cold, Dong Sik looked like he was feeling a lot better than Ji Hwa had described. That day, Joo Won realised, that despite her no-nonsense attitude and straight-laced demeanour, Oh Ji Hwa was a lot craftier than he’d expected.
The third time was on a rainy day: Dong Sik was actually in Seoul when he called, or rather demanded:
“Inspector Han, come pick me up and take me back to Jae Yi’s. We’re having dinner there tonight.”
So it seemed like his evening plans had already been chosen for him.
“Oh, we’re having a full house today,” were the first words from Jae Yi’s mouth when he arrived, followed by, “it’s been a while.”
Then, she beamed, eyes lighting up, after she saw the bottles of makgeolli that Dong Sik had bought but made Joo Won carry.
“Perfect timing.”
Then, her expression turned positively devious when she said, voice laced with mirth, “I heard you can cook, so come help me slice the pork belly.” She beckoned him over with a wave of her butcher’s knife. Sharp tip of the blade glinting, it seemed somewhat like a mild threat.
There’s no time to even form a response before Joo Won was shooed towards the counter by Jae Yi, who had already shoved an apron into his hands. Giving a half-hearted scowl, all Joo Won could do was to pick up that knife and get to work. One by one, the rest arrived, unsurprised by his presence, and greeted him like he’d returned home. On that night, laughter permeated throughout the butcher shop, and at long last, Joo Won realised that he had a place here.
Manyang is his second home, even if its past haunts him.
Perhaps he still owes an irreparable debt to its residents, one in particular, because now Joo Won can’t count how many times he returns. Paying his dues has become a habit, so it seems, because it’s now become a nearly bi-weekly custom. Habits are hard to quit. And there’s always a reason to go:
“Han Joo Won, come pick me up and help me get Mr Kim back home.”
“Oh, Inspector Han, you’re here again. What case is it this time?”
“Dinner? Let’s get some kalguksu together. I’ll pay.”
He wonders why. Why can’t he say no? Because it hurts to look at Dong Sik sometimes. Does Dong Sik feel the same when he looks at Joo Won too? Sometimes, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this - the kindness that is returned, but Dong Sik always grounds him, anchoring him to the shore in moments when he feels lost at sea. It’s something that he’s grateful for, even if his mind struggles to wrap itself around and accept the reason for what it is.
So he asks one evening, when they’re standing outside of Jae Yi’s, while he still feels brave enough in the dark. The question catches Dong Sik off-guard, the momentary surprise flashes across his face, giving way to something almost imperceptible, but Joo Won catches a glimpse of it - something akin to sorrow.
“No,” is Dong Sik’s sincere reply. “I’ve long stopped associating you with Han Ki Hwan. You’re nothing like him.”
He tries to hide his disappointment, for it’s not the answer he's looking for. If Joo Won wanted forgiveness, Dong Sik would give it to him in a heartbeat; guilt absolved. Yet if those words do nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, then absolution isn’t what he is looking for.
Joo Won’s brows knit together - a slight movement that’s just enough for Dong Sik to catch onto his dissatisfaction. But head tilted, eyes softly inquisitive, the older man doesn’t press on the matter. Too patient, and ever so gentle with Joo Won, because that’s what he is nowadays with him. It’s positively frustrating. They’re dancing around something that Joo Won doesn’t know.
The younger, arrogant and brash Joo Won would have gone in head first, never mind the consequences, and recklessly shattered all this brittle glass that’s currently surrounding their relationship just to find answers. But then, the last time that happened, someone dearly paid for it - a lesson which he’s painfully learned from. Past trauma sticks to his rib cage like glue so no matter how small or large the problem is, he’ll never do that again.
“Okay.”
He finally lands on this answer after a pause and hopes that his voice doesn’t give away too much of his wistfulness.
Bathed under the overhead violet neon lights, Joo Won’s vulnerable again. Like that time when he was on his knees in the rain; with blood on his hands; in Dong Sik’s basement. From the very beginning, and always with him. Except, in this moment, some intangible feeling in his heart, which he can’t seem to name, threatens to burst to the surface. The strength of it chokes him, but he presses it down, buries it deep within his heart for another day.
That night, he leaves Manyang feeling empty, and so every time he returns, he searches.
It doesn’t take too long.
Visiting Manyang in Autumn is a surreal experience for Joo Won. It’s where it all began, so there’s some beauty to it, and sorrow too.
As he drives past the reed fields, he sees ghosts: Bang Ju Seon, Lee Geum Hwa, many more. He also sees Dong Sik, in his memories - sometimes, in his dreams too - pulling him out from within the reeds. In his memories, Dong Sik berates him for not dodging the wind. In his dreams, Dong Sik silently leaves, disappearing into the field, and the reeds rustle softly in the breeze, beckoning Joo Won into its fold, promising secrets. No matter how hard Joo Won calls Dong Sik’s name, there’s no response. But before he can join Dong Sik, he wakes, always. Manyang always calls to him in his dreams, but never Dong Sik.
Though today his former partner had called him out - to do what, Joo Won has no clue. Reality rarely seems to match up with his mind. These days, he’s been oscillating between a mixture of emotions, none of which he can put a finger on, but there’s probably a dash of stress involved from work too.
So on this late afternoon, a disgruntled Joo Won pulls up next to said person’s house, tired from work and just about running on the dwindling energy from his last cup of coffee. He could’ve said no this time, because it’s not like Dong Sik would be offended, when there’s always another day or another time for him. On the other hand, Joo Won’s the one with the strict schedule, not him. But he’d spent a couple of weeks cracking a case, and so put his visits to Manyang on hold. He’d made a promise to Dong Sik to meetup once he was done and he intends to keep it.
Outside the gates, the swaying figure of Lee Dong Sik stands, clad in his grey bomber jacket, waiting for him. His expression instantly lights up, lips curling into a grin, when Joo Won steps out of his car.
Why does Joo Won think Dong Sik’s about to say something that he’s not going to like?
“Inspector Han, let’s go for a walk today.” Dong Sik greets cheerfully in a sing-song voice that rings clear as day through the chilly air.
“I just got here,” Joo Won gripes, still slightly cranky having spent the afternoon on a wild’s goose chase after Mrs Woo, whose daughter reported her missing from the care home. Only he’d found out later that she was huddled all warm and cosy beside the fireplace at her sister’s, while he was suffering from near wind burn after searching high and low around the nearby grain fields for her. Regardless, he is relieved that Mrs Woo is safe and sound, albeit comparably warmer than him.
“It’s just a short walk, won’t be long” Dong Sik, voice lilting, tries to convince him and Joo Won continues to glare. “C’mon. Don’t be like that. ”
Really?
Funny how Joo Won knows Dong Sik so well that he doesn’t believe him one bit.
“Be like what? I haven’t said anything.” Joo Won deadpans.
Dong Sik’s grin turns sly.
“Come on, humour this old man, please .”
And he actually annoyingly pouts. This man, who’s only in his early forties, has no shame when it comes to pulling the age card.
“Fine, but you’re paying for dinner.” Joo Won relents with a grumble. Refusing to be swayed so easily, Joo Won demands for some (financial) compensation, although Dong Sik had paid for dinner last time too.
“My, my. Look at this rich boy, trying to scam all my money away!” Dong Sik gasps, scandalised, with a hand clutched to his chest. His fox-like eyes widen in mock-horror .
And Joo Won scoffs in disbelief, “You called me out here, you pay.” He jabs a finger towards Dong Sik’s direction just to drive his point home.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be chivalrous for you,” the older man teases and arms flung out into a grand gesture towards the road, he relishes in the dirty look Joo Won throws at him. “Shall we go, your highness?”
Deciding that it is not worth dignifying any of it with a response, Joo Won, with a roll of his eyes, passes ahead of Dong Sik without waiting, ignoring the delighted cackling from behind. No, he’s neither giving in, nor fighting back, if anything, he’s just choosing to take the high road this time. Then he’ll be the better person between the two.
Lee Dong Sik is a lying bastard because the walk ends up being more than an hour long.
It’s a welcome walk, however. They don’t talk much, only a few sparse conversations now and then. Since Dong Sik must have sensed that he was tired, he did most of the talking. And Joo Won appreciates it, humming in agreement every so often. When the conversation peeters out, a comfortable silence settles between them.
Joo Won takes the opportunity to enjoy the scenery too. They pass through a residential area, then into the woodlands, following a gravel path, until they reach the stream, which they walk along. Sounds of birdsong, rustle of crisp autumn leaves that are crushed under their feet, and rushing water fills the space in between. A gentle breeze ripples through the trees, lifting leaves from their branches. Joo Won digs his hands further into his pockets at the passing chill, and watches the leaves gracefully drift towards the soft ground below their feet, illuminated red-gold by the sunset filtering through the woods. He might’ve joked once about moving here, but he thinks he might actually want to do it one day. Because Manyang is beautiful, even on his worst days.
They walk a bit further until they finally reach a bit of clearing for a pause to stand upon a little wooden bridge overlooking the rushing water.
“I come here a lot when I’m bored,” Dong Sik reflects aloud as he leans forward across the railing. His eyes are distant, looking out into the horizon, where the current disappears downstream.
“Actually, I used to come here a lot as a kid. Forgot this place existed until recently.”
A corner of his lips quirks into a crooked smile. But something is left unsaid: the part where he used to come with Yu Yeon. Joo Won can imagine it: the pair of twins fresh from class, dirt on their shoes, not a care in the world as they laugh all their worries away.
What can Joo Won say? He doesn’t know a life like that. Dong Sik looks so at peace here, an expression so contemplative that Joo Won doesn’t want to disturb. A sense of nostalgia colours Dong Sik gaze, but his eyes are shadowed by a tinge of melancholia too. Sometimes, Joo Won can’t figure out what Dong Sik is thinking and it kills him to know: is it the past or present that he longs for? Or is he still mourning?
The warmth of the golden hour spills across Dong Sik's face. Over his wind tousled curls, it surrounds him in a wreath of light, and the remaining shadows flicker and dance across his cheek. Joo Won traces the light along the wrinkles of Dong Sik’s face, then down the slope of his nose to the cupid’s bow of his lips. He’s about to follow Dong Sik’s line of sight, when all of a sudden Dong Sik turns to Joo Won, startling him.
Cheeks reddening, Joo Won scrambles awkwardly to find an excuse, fast. If Dong Sik decides to question why he’s been staring all this time, he’ll just say something along the lines of:
“I was just-”
“Oh, you’ve got something in your hair…” Dong Sik points out before Joo Won could say anything else, words trailing off as he reaches out towards Joo Won’s hair. Absent-mindedly, Joo Won follows the movement of Dong Sik’s hands. Their fingertips brush - oh - and Joo Won draws back sharply, burnt.
Cold.
His hands were as cold the last time he held them too. Back then, he had held on so tightly and for so long that even from memory, he could trace the lines etched deep in Dong Sik’s weathered palms. Given the chance, Joo Won would have tried to take all of Dong Sik’s sorrow away if he could. If he could, he would pour all the warmth he had left in him into Lee Dong Sik, but in that moment, even if he wanted to take away the burden of the past all he could do was share that weight in the palm of his hands.
While Dong Sik never had any qualms in doing the same, giving fleeting touches like it’s second nature, that was the last time Joo Won had reached out. Things were different before, and he’s been hesitant ever since.
With care, Dong Sik plucks a dried leaf tangled in Joo Won’s hair. His fingers tangle through several silky strands windswept by the gentle breeze - hands too close to his face. Joo Won’s breath catches in his chest, feeling the air rush from his lungs. He tracks those hands moving down to brush the lapels of his trench coat, though there doesn’t seem to be any leaves there, his mind blankly supplies.
When Joo Won draws back, his heart twists a little, to find Dong Sik seemingly unaffected. The crumpled leaf that was nestled in Joo Won’s hair floats down to the damp earth below. It flutters in tandem with this heart, and settles softly and slowly in his chest just like the leaf on the ground. Like butterfly wings, there’s a lightness to this feeling that Joo Won has never experienced before, and he likes it - just like this, in this moment, receiving all this affection, he’s flushing under Dong Sik’s attention.
Oh.
Joo Won wants to grasp those hands again and keep them warm forever. Once more, the strange pang is back in his heart, except this time he knows why. Oh, how he wishes he had known sooner.
“Joo Won-ah, shall we go back?”
Those words pull him out of his thoughts and Joo Won, flustered, stutters out his answer.
“Yes.”
For a second, Dong Sik's eyes turn inquisitive, quietly begging Joo Won for his thoughts, but it’s soon gone, replaced with the usual smile he always gives to Joo Won, gentle and teasing.
“Let’s go,” he declares brightly and starts ahead.
All of a sudden, an odd sense of deja vu comes rushing back to Joo Won. They’re parting ways again - just like the last time on the bridge - except this time Joo Won intends to follow, but he’s rooted in this spot.
Overwhelmed, a hand rises to clutch his chest, fingers digging and twisting into the woollen material of his coat that’s covering his heart: how he wants to laugh at his own foolishness. At least he knows himself now.
I love him.
Joo Won has never felt love like this before - or ever, because he’s clearly never had an exemplary guide to go by or look up to - but the sense of longing he feels almost frightens him with how deep it is. He wonders how long he’s been yearning for. Was it since that day on the bridge or even before then? Before he can even stop himself, the confession slips from his tongue.
I think…
“I love you” he utters gently under his breath, although today he lacks courage to say those words louder. Because those words are said so softly, they’re barely above a whisper. And they drift away from his lips, carried by the breeze, like autumn leaves, till they eventually disappear into the orange-pink flushed sunset. For the first time in a while, Joo Won feels momentarily light and free, and despite the thudding ache in his chest, he can feel a small smile forming on his lips.
So the first time Joo Won confesses, Dong Sik doesn’t seem to hear, and for that Joo Won is grateful, even if it hurts.