Chapter 1: Continuing Education
Chapter Text
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Like all such meetings within this cursed building, there isn’t enough lighting in the room.
"I think you’ll find your coursework sufficient."
With trepidation, Jaehan looks down at the collection of materials on the desk. It’s an absolute stack of it, tall enough that it’s starting to teeter precariously. Full of books, folders, and at least two clipboards that he can see, it doesn’t look like coursework. It looks like somebody emptied out the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet and put it in front of him.
"Sufficient… Right." Slowly, he reaches out and thumbs through the folder on the top of the pile. "Are you sure this is what you want me to spend my time here doing?"
His hesitation is understandable. Up until now, he’s been a hunter. Out in the field doing work, putting his well-learned skills to use. Sure, he’s not the best hunter in the business, but he’s decent. He works hard, the jobs he takes turn out well. Admittedly, he never expected to end up at the Bureau again, but sometimes you can’t foresee these things.
Maybe that applies to this as well.
The paper-pusher in front of him stares down the bridge of his nose, an unimpressed expression gracing his face. "Is this… you arguing with our decision?" He says our like he had anything to do with this.
"No sir," Jaehan hurries to say, knowing full well that even if this person doesn’t outrank him, whoever sent these orders certainly does. "It’s just- I’m curious. I thought I was going to be reassigned immediately."
Slowly, the paper-pusher sits back in his chair and folds his hands on the desk. He’s got a neat little plaque on his desk that reads Na Jaemin, but Jaehan isn’t entirely sure if that’s his name or just the name of the owner of the desk. It doesn’t matter, they’re all the same. All of them are just faceless officials here to move documents and take care of clerical work and nothing more. He’s certain the moment he leaves this office, Jaemin will forget who he is as well.
"You’ve only been out of your old group a week," the man behind the desk points out, lifting a brow. "Don’t get ahead of yourself."
"Yes sir." Dipping his head, at least pretending to be properly admonished, Jaehan purses his lips together and looks at the cover of the first book of the stack. ‘A Guide to Demonic Possession, Repossession, Exorcisms, and the Common Infestation’. It’s a lengthy title.
Considering what he used to do, it’s also completely new ground. His frame of reference is unbelievably limited.
"You look confused." Tapping his index fingers together, Jaemin gazes up at Jaehan coolly. "Is there any way I can… clear up some confusion?"
"Well…" Gingerly, Jaehan starts to pick through the materials. They seem to follow a theme. Demons, devils, hell, and a good dose of the occult sprinkled in for good measure. There’s a whole book in here on the specific kinds of blood magic rituals that can raise homunculi. Considering he used to work almost exclusively with issues concerning bestia due to the region he’d been located in, this is certainly a change. "Is this really what you want me to be learning?"
Thinly, the paper-pusher smiles. "It’s called continuing education for a reason," he points out, like he’s relishing Jaehan’s uncertainty just a little too much.
Maybe he is. It’s one of those known secrets that hunters and the lesser bureaucrats and clerks that work at the Bureau don’t get along. It might have something to do with the fact hunters call them paper-pushers in the first place. A specifically derogatory nickname that makes their job sound unimportant and unnecessary. The Bureau’s officials have nicknames for hunters too. But they’re a little more varied.
Jaehan has been called a dog at least once. He’s also been called a meathead, a murderer, and dead weight.
Admittedly, that last one might have something to do with the fact that he’s back here at all. Jaehan had been assigned to a team, the same one they’d stuck him on after graduation. By most standards, he’s already a seasoned hunter. He’s had a partner before, as well as eleven years of fieldwork under his belt.
Dead weight is appropriate. Because look at him now; partnerless and teamless, aimlessly wandering around the NHII headquarters while he waits for someone to give him orders.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind where they belong, Jaehan carefully begins collecting the books and files that have been set before him. It’s easy enough to carry them all. Their only crime is being awkwardly shaped, they certainly aren’t heavy.
"Sorry, I hope my questions didn’t come off as rude."
"No, not rude. I understand." Magnanimously, Jaemin spreads his hands, a smile coming over his face. "You’re used to being out in the field, most people have to request extended time off to have the opportunity to do something like this."
He makes it sound like they’re doing Jaehan a favor. Giving him time to learn, like it all he could ever want. Unfortunately, he’s not sure he feels the same.
"I know," the paper-pusher hums. "Demonology is such a contentious and complex subject. And the occult isn’t far behind it. But we looked at your test scores from back in the Academy. You are perfectly capable of this."
"Is-" Jaehan clears his throat. "Is there another option?" He’s trying to be as delicate about it as possible, but he has to know. Even after only a week here, he already thinks he’s losing his mind. There are too many hallways that lead nowhere, too many doors that are locked, and too little room to think. If he has homework on top of that, he’s going to go crazy.
Sighing, Jaemin puts on a look of fake sympathy. "Unfortunately, no. Trust me, this is the best option we had. But I’m sure you’ll find the Bureau’s accommodations acceptable."
Jaehan isn’t so sure. His room is the size of a shoe-box. The food they serve here, while probably nutritional and containing all the vitamins he needs to be healthy, is disgusting. The lighting is always too stark. That, or far too scarce. He’s trying to remember the last time he saw the sun.
"It’ll be fine, sir."
Good." Smiling widely, Jaemin leans forward. "Because between you and me, the other option was apparently sending you back to the Academy."
Instantly, Jaehan stiffens. They wouldn’t. He graduated a decade ago, imagine what his professors would say if he showed back up again? Think what the other trainees would say, seeing a thirty year old sitting beside them in class? No, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Just the prospect is enough to make the homework in his arms seem appealing by comparison.
His reaction must be visible on his face, because the paper-pusher’s smile only widens, like he knows exactly what’s going through Jaehan’s head.
"See, we’re just trying to do what’s best for you," Jaemin tuts. "Focus on your studies; you’ll be back on the field in no time." It’s what Jaehan hopes for. This job is his life. Even if he’s lost his team and his partner, he doesn’t want to lose this as well. Though admittedly, without those two things, what has the job become?
Hesitantly, Jaehan resumes picking up the papers. "Thank you for giving me a chance to…" He grimaces. "Continue my education here."
"But of course," the paper-pusher croons. "We always try to be accommodating to our hunters." Reaching for a file on his desk, the man flips it open and gives a soft hum. "Incidentally, what are you back here for?"
Just having the question asked curdles Jaehan’s stomach. "What does anyone come back for?" When Jaemin doesn’t look away, he shifts on the balls of his feet and reluctantly elaborates. "My team… It sort of crumbled. My partner resigned." The scar on his chest aches.
It’s still fresh, all things considered. Not even a month old yet.
"That’s a story I’ve heard before." Flipping the pages of the file, careful not to lose any, Jaemin deliberately doesn’t meet Jaehan’s eyes. "I’d suggest you retire as well, but according to your file, you owe us another seven years."
Jaehan doesn’t wince aloud but it’s a close thing. Right. Because the Bureau had paid for his education. Now he’s stuck, however that ends up playing out. Not that he would have left, even if given the chance.
"I should get to my homework." Carefully, he raises the books he has stacked in his arms. "These subjects aren’t going to learn themselves."
"No, they won’t," the paper-pusher agrees, with too much joviality in his tone. "You’ve got a lot to do, and who knows how much time you have to do it. Best not waste even a moment."
Letting out a slow breath, Jaehan nods once and takes a step back. "I suppose… I’ll keep you updated about my progress?"
"Oh, there will be no need for that." Jaemin smiles. "We’ll know."
Somehow, Jaehan believes it.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Jaehan runs away from home when he’s sixteen.
It’s a common enough story, so he doesn’t really make a big deal about it. That’s how a lot of hunters get their start. You leave home, you show up at the Bureau’s doors, and you pray you can pass the mental and physical requirements to join.
Jaehan had passed with flying colors. The rest is history.
The Bureau’s age requirements are, to many, questionable. You can technically join when you’re fifteen. They won’t put you out on the field until you’re at least twenty, but you’re welcome to show up whenever you want and they won’t send you back, no matter how dubious your circumstances. They have what amounts to high school there, as well as college. Hunting isn’t all about fighting or about honing your magic after all. A lot of it is learning about non-human cultures, about various languages, and about strange biologies.
The amount of science that goes into your average Bureau-funded education is immense.
Besides, not everyone who studies at the Academy becomes a hunter in the first place. Most of them become paper-pushers of one variety or another. A very small selection of them go on to become diplomats, and officials that people remember the names of. When you get down to it, there’s a decent variety of jobs that come out of a Bureau sponsored education.
The way they determine payment for said education is easy. They look at how many years you’ve spent with them, and in return you owe them a certain amount of time under their employ. Whether this be as a bureaucrat, or as a hunter.
It’s a fair system. Considering how niche the education is, there isn’t a lot else you can do with it other than work for the Bureau. Maybe they did that on purpose, or maybe it was just a happy side-effect. Whatever the reason, most people aren’t going there if they don’t intend to work with the Bureau at some point. So all in all, it works out.
Jaehan remembers his first time going through the Academy. It wasn’t bad. Putting all the programs he went through together, he was there for six years, until he was twenty-two. At first, it was just basic schooling, learning the ins and outs of non-humans, their behavior, their biology, their psyches- as understood by humans. When he turned eighteen, it was determined he was going to be a hunter someday and they started adding in the physical training aspect of it.
By the time he was twenty, he was proficient in three types of martial weapons, had a familiarity with two others, and had decided he preferred magic to them all.
He has a vague grasp of all types of elemental magic, but he excels at earthen magics. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it makes him feel grounded. As a backup, he carries several short blades. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to use them often.
Jaehan remembers the first group he was assigned to. It was an older group, with half of the people in it well into their hunter career. He was the new one, shoved in there because one of their old teammates had died. The position even came with a non-human partner for him.
He remembers the first year of that bond as being bad. The rest of it was good, maybe even amazing. He certainly misses it now that it’s gone. There’s something comforting about having someone else there, tied intrinsically to you. It sounds stupid, he knows it sounds stupid, but even the bad emotions from that bond meant he wasn’t doing it alone.
All in all, he liked that group. He liked his leader, Minjae, he liked his teammates, he definitely liked his partner, Jongchan. He found value in being part of something bigger than himself. There were always people to rely on, even when things were difficult. If he didn’t have the answer, his partner might. And if neither of them have the answer, their leader would. And if all seven of them were stumped, they could always call for help.
Their group was a regional group whose purpose was to handle any problems in their area too big for a district group to tackle and help specialist groups when there was a job that required a few extra sets of hands. Which meant there was always someone who knew more than them. If they weren’t helping specialists, they were helping the other groups in their area. And if they weren’t doing that, the Bureau kept them plenty busy.
It was a weird middle ground, but Jaehan had liked the lack of pressure the position had put on him. He didn’t have to be in charge of anything. He didn’t have to be responsible for being the best, the brightest, or the person who had all the answers. Because that literally wasn’t in the job description.
He just got to be in his little group, and deal with problems as they came along.
And then one of the other hunters in his team, Dongyoon, passed away
It wasn’t the first death he’d borne witness to, far from it. Jaehan had been to several funerals in his career already, mostly of other people he trained with back in the Academy. But this was the first time he had to deal with one so close to home. This was the first time he’d personally known the individual, cared about them, and suddenly had to handle the trauma of losing them.
But he still had his team. Coping wasn’t that difficult, all things considered. This job was dangerous, everyone knew that. He remembered just as well as anybody the extensive documents full of warnings and legalese they were forced to sign before they got to join. Death came with the territory.
Still, he missed Dongyoon.
And then Eunjun had died, and what had once been a tight-knit, well structured team slowly fell apart.
Jaehan had been forced to watch as the home he’d built for himself over the past eleven years had crumbled around his ears. Their leader, without the partner he’d had for most of his hunting career, had shut down. They were all still working jobs and functioning, technically, but it wasn’t the same.
At only five people, they were a ghost of what they used to be. And the Bureau had refused to assign anybody new to the group.
For the best, they would say, looking at each other from across that tiny living room and keeping their hands folded tightly in their laps. None of them were really ready for anybody new. Not with the group already splintering so completely.
But maybe they should have read the writing on the wall. Because clearly, the only reason the Bureau wouldn’t assign them anybody new was because they already didn’t think they were going to last. But nobody told that to Jaehan, they just let him believe that everything was eventually going to be okay. Right up until his partner retired.
You’d think he’d have some warning for something like that, but he hadn’t. One day, everything had been as normal as could be, the next he was being hustled along to the nearest branch of the NHII and having his bond mark removed.
Jongchan had apologized profusely the entire time. He didn’t want this to be traumatic, he promised. It was just that his mandatory service was up, and if he had to spend another day in this collar, he was going to lose his mind. But see, it was traumatic. All bond mark removals are. By their nature, they leave a hole in your chest where somebody else used to be, and there isn’t anything to soothe that pain but time.
Whether you were physically or romantically involved with your partner, or just companions, it didn’t matter. They became the person you were closest to. And then, as Jaehan was discovering, they could leave. Walking out of your life forever with only a simple goodbye.
It had taken exactly three weeks after that for the Bureau to completely dissolve his old group.
Two of his old group members have been reassigned immediately. Dongkyu and Seunghyun, a hunter/non-human pairing. The Bureau already knew what they wanted to do with them, and they’d hardly been given time to pack up before being shipped halfway across the continent. Meanwhile Minjae, his old leader, had quietly retired. He’d apologized to Jaehan, but he hadn’t explained why.
Maybe he felt responsible for everything crumbling, even though it couldn’t possibly be his fault.
Jaehan accepted the apology and had promised to keep in touch. As with all promises like it, it was a lie. Void only knows where his old leader is now, and even if he knew, would he want to talk to him?
Probably not.
The Bureau had decidedly taken him in after that. They’d had him pack up his belongings before shipping him off to one of their main facilities. There hadn’t been any promises of grandeur, there hadn’t even been any promises of reassignment, it had just been a simple ‘you’re leaving now and you’re coming here’. Of course, he hadn’t argued.
You didn’t argue with the Bureau.
Despite the lack of concrete information, Jaehan had still sort of assumed they were going to reassign him too. They just needed a little time to pair him up with someone new, or find a group that had a non-human who already needed a partner. Or even just a group who needed a new hunter. All of those were options. All of them seemed equally likely.
But they hadn’t done any of it, they’d just stuck him in a room the size of a shoe-box and told him to wait.
Jaehan hated waiting.
Sadly, with this continuing education nonsense, he thinks he’s going to get pretty damn good at waiting whether he likes it or not. Void knows when they’re going to reassign him. For all he knows, he’s going to be stuck here forever.
The thought is terrifying, and he’s not terrified of much.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Jaehan vividly remembers his first time meeting Jinwoo.
The kid is younger than him, at least by a few years. If Jaehan didn’t know better, he would have guessed the man was fresh out of the Academy with how he behaves. He’s short, a little on the wiry side, full of energy, and completely unhinged.
Needless to say, he’s a picture perfect hunter.
Their first meeting happens in one of the facility’s massive cafeterias. This Bureau location is huge, after all. Beyond the people that it employs, there are countless others who come here for business, and they’ve got to have places to feed them. Most of the people frequenting the cafeteria are paper-pushers whether from this location or another, but occasionally you get a hunter who’s passing through. No one is particularly interested in chatting. Usually, that’s fine; Jaehan is perfectly content to people-watch as he suffers through his homework.
Just in the past few weeks he’s been here, he swears he’s seen more Bureau-associated faces than he ever did in the rest of his career.
Jaehan can confidently say that none of them are here to have fun.
Jinwoo seems like he’s here for something fun. He acts like he’s on vacation, taking full advantage of whatever the Bureau offers and constantly pushing the boundaries when he decides they don’t suit him. Up until now, Jaehan hasn’t managed any extended conversations with anybody here, but Jinwoo comes up to him without hesitation. Like he owns the place, he settles down on the bench opposite, props his chin up on an elbow, and grins a lopsided grin.
"So," he drawls, his voice just a little nasally. "I hear you’re here to learn stuff."
Looking around, utterly confused as to who this person is and why they’re talking to him, Jaehan tentatively fixes his attention on the newcomer and raises an eyebrow. "News gets around fast?"
The man doesn’t look like he belongs here. He’s decked out in jeans, a ratty tee-shirt, and a leather jacket that’s seen better decades. His hair, which looks like it hasn’t been cut in months, hangs in his eyes and around his face in a shaggy wave, and when he shakes it out of the way, his eyes glitter delightedly. Like talking to Jaehan is the highlight of his day.
"Eh, not really." Examining his nails, the man’s lips twitch up in a grin, the expression full of mischief. "I’m just good at getting information."
If this were anywhere else, Jaehan would assume something terrible was about to happen. As it is, he’s in the middle of one of the Bureau’s main facilities, so this guy can’t be that bad. "I didn’t realize I was information worth getting."
Squirming on his bench slightly, the newcomer leans forward conspiratorially across the table. "Any unassigned hunter they’re keeping shut up in here is worth knowing about. Which includes you. Which makes you noteworthy."
To be perfectly honest, Jaehan doesn’t know the protocol around here. He doesn’t know who he’s supposed to talk to and who he’s supposed to avoid. Obviously, he knows he shouldn’t talk to any of the paper pushers. Trying is liable to just get him ignored, or worse, openly scorned. But this kid…
He seems- well, he seems like a hunter. Maybe not one that’s currently working, but Jaehan has met enough of them in his time to recognize one at a glance, in or out of uniform.
Clearing his throat, trying not to come off as awkward as he feels, Jaehan lifts a hand in belated greeting. "I’m Jaehan. Kim Jaehan."
The man across from him cracks an even bigger smile than before. "Oh I know." When Jaehan coughs at his bluntness, he laughs. "The name’s Jinwoo. Xen if you’re feeling spicy. Don’t bother with the last name, you’ll probably forget it. Because you’re never going to use it."
Admittedly, Jaehan thinks he’s correct. The only people who use last names around here are the paper-pushers, and void knows he doesn’t want to act like one of them. Hunters typically operate on a first name basis anyways. And while Jinwoo’s suggested nickname is stupid, it’s common among hunters to have one. So he just bobs his head and tries for a smile.
"It’s nice to meet you… Jinwoo."
Instantly, Jinwoo’s eyes light up in delight. Whistling through his teeth, he leans back on his bench and muses, "Not many people say that to me." One of his eyebrows twitch. "I got to say, the change is nice."
Jaehan almost asked why, but at the last second, he resists the urge.
"Are you just dropping through?" Jaehan wonders aloud, going back to his food and nibbling on the unidentifiable chunks of meat in sauce.
"Not exactly." Reaching across the table, Jinwoo steals the hunk of bread off of Jaehan’s plate. Before he can react, the man already has it halfway in his mouth.
Starting to complain, Jaehan thinks better of it. Honestly, he’s too baffled by the entire situation to know how he’s supposed to feel about any one aspect. "Alright, so then what exactly?"
Swallowing his bite, Jinwoo lifts his eyebrows, like somehow it should be obvious why he’s here. "I’m stuck here, same as you. Which means that you and I are two of a kind here. A pair, if you will."
"I guess…" Though the man across from him sounds utterly convinced of his own words, Jaehan isn’t so sure, but it seems rude to come right out and say that.
"It’s fine." Waving Jaehan’s half-eaten bread, Jinwoo nods sympathetically. "You probably don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it either. See! Another way we’re alike."
He never said that, but Jaehan decides there are more pressing questions to ask. "Stuck here… Are you trapped?"
Jinwoo balks. "Oh don’t say it like that! I know it’s bad, but you’ve got to have a positive outlook on these things. I prefer to think of this-" He gestures between the two of them. "As nothing more than a blip on the radar, not a death sentence."
When Jaehan just stares at him, eyes slightly narrowed, some of Jinwoo’s bravado melts away, and a slightly more serious expression crosses his face. "I’m also in-between groups."
It clicks. "Oh."
Instantly flipping a grin back onto his face, Jinwoo points finger-guns in his direction. "Which means we’ve got more in common than most people here."
It turns out, this isn’t too far off from the truth. Though they’re both very different people personality wise, the two of them still have a lot in common. Situationally, if in no other respect. Jinwoo makes it sound like it’s just that simple. Same place, same time, same circumstances, even if he won’t elaborate a bit on what any of those circumstances are. But Jaehan doesn’t pry, and Jinwoo doesn’t offer any further information voluntarily.
Instead, they befriend each other, and it makes the long days within the walls of the Bureau a little easier to cope with.
Jinwoo is a lot of things Jaehan isn’t. He’s impulsive, he’s reckless, he’s full to bursting with energy. He doesn’t let the stifling atmosphere of the Bureau get to him; if anything, it makes him worse. He treats being holed up here like a game. They may have trapped him in this facility for now, but the war is still being waged and he’s going to win.
Despite Jinwoo never shutting up when they’re together, it takes about two weeks for Jaehan to find out what exactly the man is doing while he’s here. Because this is the Bureau they’re talking about, they don’t just let people have time off.
Intensive therapy is the answer, apparently. Jinwoo makes it sound like it isn’t that big a deal. An inconvenience and nothing else. Like something this big is normal and he’s just got to suffer through until it goes away. But Jaehan can see it in his eyes, the manic energy that comes from whatever he’s trying to avoid within his own mind.
"It’s nothing, really," Jinwoo insists, waving a hand loosely and leaning back in the overstuffed armchair that he dug up from one of the many cramped break rooms within the facility. Its presence makes Jaehan’s already tiny room feel even smaller. "They’re just making sure I can pass the psych eval next time it pops up. Then they’ll put me back on the field, good as new."
There’s a certain amount of bitter sarcasm in those words. Unlike Jaehan, Jinwoo isn’t too certain if he’s going to be reassigned. Obviously he wants to be, hell, it’s all he talks about. But at least in this case, he seems cripplingly realistic.
"Hey, better they give you therapy than just leave you to figure it out yourself." As always, Jaehan isn’t entirely sure if he believes his own words, but it sounds good to say them. After all, he never got therapy. He never even got offered therapy. In all his time here, the most he’s gotten was a week ago, when they’d had him sit down in front of one of their psych evaluators.
Apparently he’d passed, because he’s never heard about it again.
"I’m just being a bitch about it, it’s not too bad," Jinwoo admits. "It could be a lot worse. They could’ve decided I was a basket case and left me to rot."
Jaehan doesn’t think the Bureau allows people to basket cases. Not entirely. It seems like they’ll do anything to wring every last bit of productivity and usefulness out of the people that walk through their doors. Certainly, it feels like what they’re doing to him, with all of this homework on subject matter that’s nearly impossible to understand.
But he doesn’t say it. He feels like verbalizing it will make it real.
"You aren’t a basket case."
Wryly, Jinwoo looks up at him and smiles. "Ah, you’re so kind me, hyung. If only everybody thought of me like that."
"If you don’t value their opinions, then who cares what they say?" They’re words Jaehan wishes he could live by, even though he rarely makes the effort.
Jinwoo though, he thinks about them. It’s obvious in the way his brows furrow and he tips his head back, showing off the delicate neck tattoo that he has etched onto the right side of his throat. "Maybe you’re right." Then, in a much smaller voice, he adds, “I don’t want to be a lost cause.”
He opens up a bit after that. Not much, never very seriously, but Jaehan finds out why he’s there, bit by bit. Though he makes a point of never asking, eventually Jinwoo brings it up, and only then does he feel like he’s within his rights to dig deeper.
Apparently, the rest of his team, including his old partner, are dead.
They were hunting something down in South Africa, sources said a rogue manticore that was terrorizing local towns. Unfortunately, those sources had been wrong. Whatever it was turned out to be a lot more deadly than they expected, and they ended up being the ones hunted. The thing had killed each of them systematically and mercilessly, leaving only Jinwoo behind.
“I never even saw it,” he says faintly, a small, frozen smile on his face. “I was hiding, and I heard it, and I closed my eyes… And I stayed like that for- fuck- two days? It never even touched me.”
Jinwoo tells the story like it’s some grand joke, and not the most horrifying experience of his entire life. He tells the story like that as if it’s crucial he does. Like ever admitting it affected him would immediately send him spiraling. Crumbling into an empty shell of what he is now.
He doesn’t go into details about how his partner died, or how the rest of his team was picked off, and Jaehan doesn’t blame him. Who would? No one has the right to tell someone to relive the worst moments of their life if they don’t want to. That’s Jinwoo’s trauma, and he deserves to process it how he wants.
But the Bureau disagrees. According to Jinwoo, they seem to find it enjoyable to have him retell the story again and again. Always asking more intrusive questions each time, like there’s something to be learned from his story. There isn’t, he insists, always rubbing his knuckles and staring off into space. They’ve already gotten everything of worth out of him.
"It’s just another sob story," Jinwoo says softly, as his eyes slowly drift to Jaehan. "Going over it again isn’t going to bring them back, and it isn’t going to help them find whatever it was down there in Africa.” The look in his eyes is manic. “I’m not- I’m not even useful enough to help get justice for my team.”
Jaehan comforts Jinwoo, and by extension himself, by saying that the Bureau is doing it for the right reasons. They’re trying to avenge the people who were killed in their own bureaucratic way, even if Jinwoo doesn’t think it’ll ever go anywhere. Keeping humans and non-humans safe is their job after all, even if an individual hunter’s peace of mind is the cost.
It’s unfortunate, and it’s not fair to Jinwoo, but the Bureau officials probably feel just as bad about it as they do.
Unfortunately, he’s not sure he believes himself anymore. He hasn’t spent long here, but Jaehan is starting to get the impression that the Bureau doesn’t care about them as much as he once thought they did.
If Jinwoo shares in that sentiment sincerely, Jaehan can’t tell. He knows the man jokes about it loudly, especially where the paper-pushers can hear. Almost like it’s his personal way of coping with what’s going on. But when they’re alone together, he’s quiet about it.
Jaehan doesn’t tell him if that sort of thing is right or wrong, but he does try to make it clear to the man that he cares. Even if he wasn’t there.
If he can be sure of nothing else, at least he knows Jinwoo is a friend. Jaehan’s only friend in this void-forsaken building.
He appreciates the company, more than he can possibly say. It makes the hours of studying feel a little more worth it. Reminding him that there’s something outside of this and there are reasons to keep trying. It’s stupid, because obviously there’s a future for him past this continuing education. After all, they’re going to reassign him eventually, right?
It’s an idea he clings to stubbornly, but it’s difficult some days to believe it. He can count on one hand the number of rooms he’s found in this place that have a window to the outside world. Jaehan still hasn’t managed to go outside, and it’s been over a month. The Bureau is a place that could kill you, if you let it.
Hell, it might be capable even if you try to resist.
Still, Jaehan fights that hopelessness, and takes the days as they come. He may not know when he’s allowed to leave, and Jinwoo might not know how long it’s going to take for them to deem him mentally well enough to go back out in the field. But until then, they have each other. They can train together, they can eat together, and at least once, Jaehan finds Jinwoo in his bed. Though they never talk about it, not really, it’s something small and good.
A tiny blessing, in a place that feels cursed.
Honestly, with how complicated everything else seems, Jaehan tries not to think too far past that.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
"You know," Jinwoo announces one day, sitting at the end of Jaehan’s bed as the man studies. "I thought that after I got assigned to a team, I wouldn’t be alone anymore."
Needless to say, it’s a complete non-sequitur. They hadn’t been talking about anything that could have triggered this change in subject. Actually, Jaehan’s pretty sure the last thirty minutes have been spent in silence, but Jinwoo does this sometimes. Thinks and thinks, until finally the thoughts get too big to keep inside and they pop out of his mouth.
Haltingly looking up from his papers, Jaehan ponders the concept for a moment before admitting, "I guess I never considered it one way or another."
Leaning closer, Jinwoo gives him a skeptical look. "You’re lying. Of course you thought it was going to be forever. We all do. Because that’s what they always tell us, right?"
It’s abundantly clear he’s fishing for an answer, one answer in particular, but Jaehan is reluctant to give it. Because no, he hadn’t thought about it, actually. The specific concept that his team could be family has never crossed his mind. But maybe in never thinking about it, he subconsciously made assumptions. Like that his team would be forever. That he could put down roots and settle in.
Disbanding has never been a concern, because why would it be? You don’t hear stories about hunters who get reassigned very often, you only ever hear stories about the shining examples of groups that last for years. Right up until everyone retires and lives happily ever after.
Of course, it’s all bullshit. Everyone sees the statistics, everyone reads the same studies which lay out how many hunters and their non-human partners die every year. As always, the truth isn’t pretty. Sure, the numbers aren’t big, but in proportion to how many hunters there are, it’s a terrifying margin. Anyone with a brain knows the groups aren’t forever. At least, not as they originally form.
They only last as long as you’re all lucky enough to survive.
Uncomfortable with the direction his mind has taken him, Jaehan shifts on his bed and leans back against the headboard. "My old group was already established." He says the words hesitantly. Since he got here, he hasn’t talked about them much. "If they were going to fall apart, I guess I just assumed they’d have done it before I got there."
"A rookie mistake," Jinwoo jokes. The smile slips off his face quickly though, like he can tell how much the topic bothers Jaehan. Still, he doesn’t drop it. "Honestly, I completely believed every lie they told us. I thought that team was going to be my… My family.”
“Were they?”
“Was yours?”
“I think so," Jaehan admits, his voice barely a mumble.
Certainly, they were a better family than the biological one he’d left behind. There’s a reason he ran away, not that he ever thinks about it. Having that group of older hunters and non-humans around had been comforting. Like having brothers, with his leader almost falling into a fatherly role. He’d never consciously thought about it in those terms before, but the moment Jinwoo says it, Jaehan realizes that subconsciously he absolutely had.
"It’s kinda wild they sell it to us like that, don’t you think?" Kicking his legs, fussing with the bedspread, Jinwoo looks first at the ceiling, then at the bare walls, before his eyes return to Jaehan. "I mean, the recruiters and the NHII handlers spend all this time talking about how it’s a professional relationship. It’s just a job. But then all the instructors at the academy and all the older hunters talk about it like… Like you’re getting a new family. Like you’re being given a home. Which, if you ask me, is bullshit.”
"I don’t think it’s entirely untrue," insists Jaehan, though he’s not entirely sure why he’s arguing. "They are family. You get close enough to them for them to be. You care about them like they are."
"Yeah, but should you?" Jinwoo’s laugh is short. Bitter. "You don’t even get to choose them. It’s all some mysterious algorithm that the Bureau has tucked away in a filing cabinet somewhere. They just stick you in a group and hope you do well with them. What happens if you don’t, huh? What happens if they get it wrong?"
Jaehan doesn’t know.
Clearly, Jinwoo can see it on his face, because he wags a finger in his direction. "Yeah, you don’t have a clue either. Because they never tell you the failed stories. They only ever put the ones that have tidy endings into the textbooks. But I’ve taken a trip down to the archives under this facility more than once. You’d be surprised at the shit they keep down there."
Jaehan almost wants to ask what, but he hesitates. He’s not sure he wants to know the horror stories, even though he’s certain there are countless ones available.
Instead, he holds his breath and searches for optimism. "I’m sure not all of them are good, but… Not all of them are bad either," he reasons carefully, setting aside his homework entirely so he can fix his full attention on Jinwoo. "Some of the groups the Bureau puts together are stable, otherwise this would never work. People would quit too often."
Lips pursing, Jinwoo stares at the floor and draws his knees to his chest. "I just don’t think it’s fair. It’s because of that- That fairytale the Bureau sold me that it hurts this bad to lose them. If they’d just been work colleagues, I wouldn’t care. Not as much."
It’s the most honest admission of grief Jaehan has heard from the man since they met. Instinctively, his fingers itch to reach out and pull Jinwoo closer.
"I’m sorry."
"No, I don’t want an apology from you." Tone bitter, Jinwoo rocks to the side until he falls to the thin duvet cover. "I wanted the Bureau to warn me." Almost like he can see how ridiculous that wish is, he laughs. The sound is thin and tremulous. "Or, I don’t know, do something more than just shove me in therapy."
Slowly, Jaehan inches forward on his bed until he’s able to pull Jinwoo into his lap. Though the man is a grown adult, and typically too fidgety to be held, he settles down in Jaehan’s arms. Maybe not content, but certainly too tired to fight it.
"They make it sound like different teams are interchangeable, don’t they?" Staring at his own wall, slowly running fingers through Jinwoo’s hair, Jaehan mutters, "They talk about reassignment like it’s actually just another job. But it’s not, is it?"
"Except that’s the funny part. It is,” Jinwoo mumbles into his pant leg. "This whole family thing; it falls apart the moment someone dies. Or retires. Or- or gets shifted somewhere else. Just like any other job."
Knowing the man has a point he wants to make, Jaehan prods, “So why spend so much time making you think it isn’t like any other job?"
"Because otherwise you’d leave." Jaehan can feel Jinwoo’s smile against his thigh. "This whole thing is so fucked up otherwise. It’s dangerous and it’s gross and it’s hard. There’s a constant risk of dying, and if that wasn’t bad enough, there’s the risk of watching your friends die. If they didn’t sell it to you like it’s something more than just a job, you’d never do it. There’s no way anyone sane would stick around." His fingers dig into the edge of Jaehan’s hoodie, where they clench tightly. "That’s probably why so many people quit in that first month, huh? Not because it’s hard, but because they’re smart enough to realize it’s not worth it."
"Maybe,” Jaehan says, noncommittally.
"You know," Jinwoo begins, his voice a little distant. "Everyone else on my team had plans for after they retired. Like, they were going to do something with their lives, not just hunt monsters forever." He hesitates. "Sorry, non-humans."
"It’s fine," Jaehan reassures, waving the slip-up away. "What did they plan on doing?"
"Different stuff. Sungho-hyung wanted to write music." Shifting slightly, until he can look up at Jaehan, Jinwoo gives a snort. "Rubin-hyung always said he was going to be a tattoo artist. Imagine that, settling down and doing something so calm after a life doing this."
"I think it sounds cool." Maybe not specifically because ‘tattoo artist' is the coolest job out there, but the actual reason is difficult to pin down. Jaehan has never really had aspirations outside of being a hunter, but the idea that some people do is a nice one. Even if he can’t quite articulate why.
Twisting his neck slightly, Jinwoo points to the tattoo on his throat. "He did this for me." Grinning faintly, he rubs his fingers over the permanent mark. "He practiced in his spare time. He was getting pretty good, actually. You know, he used to be able to re-create bond-marks perfectly. There were a few hunters and non-humans he did it for, to commemorate partners who died."
Even though he doesn’t say it out loud, Jaehan thinks the idea is a nice one. A little morbid, maybe, but perfectly aligned with what a hunter would want. Something permanent, something that isn’t another ugly, painful scar.
"But it doesn’t matter now, right? Because he’s gone." Jinwoo‘s mouth twists, and he pushes his face back into Jaehan’s leg. "They’re all dead. Except for me.” Hollowly, he mumbles, “I’m so lucky."
"Did you ever want to do anything other than be a hunter?"
Laughing bitterly, Jinwoo plainly states, "No." Pausing, like he’s thinking about it, he eventually just shakes his head. "Isn’t that sad? These are the heights of my aspirations. I just wanted to do this job until it either killed me, or I could retire. And now I’m stuck here."
"It’s not sad," Jaehan insists, returning to carefully stroking Jinwoo‘s hair. "It’s just what you wanted to do. You’re allowed to have a dream job.”
"I wish this wasn’t mine." Submitting to the attention, Jinwoo‘s voice gentles somewhat. "I wish I had another goal. I’m starting to hate it here, hyung, I’m never gonna leave. They’re never going to put me back out on the field, and I’m never going to get better. I’m just going to stay here until I actually go crazy."
Though it seems like an impossible promise to make, a disgustingly foolish one, Jaehan’s mouth opens before he can stop it. "I won’t let them do that to you."
"Yeah?” Blearily, Jinwoo gazes up at him. “How are you gonna stop them?"
Jaehan doesn’t know, so he doesn’t answer. Privately though, he hopes he can figure it out. Because Jinwoo doesn’t deserve to live like this, and honestly, neither does he.
Unfortunately though, at the end of the day, this is the Bureau, and you don’t go against the Bureau. So until they decide what to do with the pair of them, they’re just going to stay here.
Stay here, and slowly decay.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Jinwoo is the one who first finds Kevin, Junghoon, and Hyuk.
Okay, maybe that’s not entirely accurate. Jinwoo doesn’t find Kevin. That implies he went looking, or knew there was something to discover in the first place. Instead, the Bureau assigns him a new therapist, and one of Kevin’s other patients is Hyuk, who then tells Jinwoo about Junghoon.
The rest is thanks to Jaehan, technically.
The two of them don’t really go out of their way to make new friends at the Bureau. Jaehan applauds Jinwoo’s moment of social brilliance in coming up to him, but he definitely doesn’t anticipate it happening again. He certainly isn’t trying to find new people to chat with. He’s got too much else to do, and the idea of talking to some of these people seems vaguely nauseating.
So it’s a good thing that Kevin kind of falls into their lap. Or rather, Jinwoo falls into his.
Apparently, the Bureau decided that Jinwoo wasn’t making enough progress with his old therapist and simply canceled his future appointments. When they first made the decision, Jinwoo almost seemed proud. Like it was a badge of honor to be too crazy for even someone qualified to deal with crazy to handle.
"Eventually they’ll give up entirely." It’s something Jinwoo has been saying for a while, but now it seems like he might actually have a point. "Eventually, they’re going to realize I’m fine."
In Jaehan’s layman opinion, the Bureau giving up and the Bureau deciding Jinwoo is healthy are two very different things. But, like many thoughts he has these days, he doesn’t verbalize them. Instead, he flips a page of his book, ‘The Ramifications of Subjective Morality and the Common Demon’, and hums, "As long as they don’t try to send you somewhere else."
"Nah, they would never." Waving a dismissive hand, Jinwoo flops down next to him and worms his head under one of Jaehan’s arms. "I mean, they might reassign me. That’d be cool. But they’re not going to send me to a different facility. Why bother?"
He has a point, the cost of moving someone is just enough that the Bureau isn’t going to do it without a very good reason. Even if they decide that the current environment isn’t conducive to Jinwoo healing, they’re liable to just leave him here and hope he muddles through.
It’s good to know how unimportant they are in the grand scheme of things. It keeps one humble.
Clearing his throat, Jaehan admits, "I’d miss you if you left."
"You think?" Cranking up an eyebrow, Jinwoo regards him curiously. "You sure I’m not just a thorn in your side?"
He asks questions like that a lot. Retrospectively, it makes sense that he got assigned a new therapist.
Kevin is… delightful. There’s no other way to say it. He’s cheerful, he’s kind, he’s considerate, and he used to be a hunter. That last part might not seem important in the grand scheme of things, but for two hunters who have been out in the field long enough to be just a little crazy as a baseline, it’s nice to have someone who understands. Actually understands, instead of just pulling faces and pretending.
He doesn’t balk at the same things as the other Bureau appointed therapists do. When they talk about killing someone, Kevin doesn’t bat an eye. When they bring up horrific wounds and traumatic events and their fucked up ways of coping with them, he nods along. He seems to know somewhat instinctively what’s actually a problem and what isn’t.
To hear Jinwoo tell it after that first week, you’d think Kevin was perfect.
After meeting him, Jaehan decides that isn’t too far off from the truth.
Kevin is the first employee he’s met here that he actually likes. Though he technically could be counted among the other paper pushers of the Bureau, he’s absolutely nothing like them. He has a few friends within the Bureau, he’s similar enough on the surface that they’re willing to accept him, but the moment you get past the surface, his true colors shine through.
He talks like a hunter. He walks like a hunter. He’s even built like a hunter, Jaehan discovers, after Kevin follows him and Jinwoo to the gym one day. And when Jinwoo accidentally lets something worrisome about his last group slip, the way Kevin sympathizes with him is exactly like a hunter would.
In all the ways that matter, Kevin is a hunter, even if they have crammed him into a pink button up and a tie.
In Jaehan’s mind, official paperwork only means so much.
As for Hyuk, Jinwoo meets him one day after his therapy session when the man shows up to his appointment early. Jinwoo started talking and Hyuk started listening, and the next thing Jaehan knows, he’s got a golden retriever sitting on his bed, wagging his tail and playing lindworms and ladders with Jinwoo.
From what Jaehan can tell, Hyuk is a non-human, a simple canid. Much less threatening than the bestia he’d been exposed to on a regular basis back in his last group. Despite how tame he appears, apparently he was once a hunter too. Was a hunter, because according to him, most of the rest of his team is dead.
Unlike Jinwoo, he doesn’t seem to be coping with the situation at all. Jaehan has to meet him once before coming to the conclusion that he’s in therapy for a good reason. He gets spooked by the strangest things, he’s almost entirely non-verbal, and when he does talk, it’s with a hunted look in his eyes. But he definitely seems to like Kevin, and Jinwoo makes it his mission to get Hyuk to like him too. He even says as much out loud, like stating his intentions automatically make them good ones.
In the same week that Jinwoo meets Hyuk, Jaehan meets Junghoon.
He finds him deep within the library of this particular facility, mulling over an old book and muttering under his breath as he does. Which is a state Jaehan often finds himself in. The Bureau’s libraries are at once weirdly complete and yet surprisingly sparse. On certain subjects, they have everything, to the point where it comes off as obsessive. On other subjects… Well, you’d have better luck looking under your bed for books than looking in the archives.
Regardless of how useful any of it is, it’s a place for research usually only frequented by specific paper pushers, which is why Jaehan never expects to find someone else there. Especially not another hunter.
When they cross paths, Junghoon is trying to do research on the winter court, research he seems to find the need to hide the moment Jaehan walks in. Once the man realizes he isn’t a paper pusher, however, he seems to relax. A handful of minutes talking turns into dinner in the cafeteria, which eventually becomes Jaehan walking Junghoon back to his side of the facility where the Bureau has him settled. Junghoon doesn’t talk a lot, but he has a few stories that don’t hurt to bring up, and he warms to the older hunter slowly.
As it turns out, Junghoon was one of Hyuk’s old teammates back in the day. At least, before their team was, well…
Neither of them like talking about it. Jaehan gets it.
Hyuk and Junghoon are quiet, kind of as a rule, which definitely gets them left in the dust when put next to Jinwoo, but they still somehow find themselves crossing paths, for meals and during their down time, when the four of them have nothing else to do. Jaehan makes a point of being welcoming, and Jinwoo is practically unwilling to let them go once he’s decided he’s attached. It might not have amounted to much either way, but since three of them are Kevin’s patients, everything just sort of works out.
"It’s good for them, don’t you think?" Kevin confides to Jaehan one day, with a bright, slightly knowing smile on his face. "To get to know other hunters who have gone through rough patches of their own. It helps them all feel less alone.”
“Probably.” Jaehan can tell Jinwoo is thankful for that solidarity, and he hopes the feeling is mutual.
“I’m sure they all knew they weren’t the only ones already, but it’s one thing to know and another thing to know.” Expression sobering somewhat, Kevin admits, “Actually, without breaking patient confidentiality, all three of their stories are remarkably similar. I know I deal with this stuff every day, but it’s still heartbreaking to see."
Jaehan knows Jinwoo’s story, so it’s not hard to extrapolate what Kevin is implying. It’s those indirect comments that actually help him piece together what happened to Hyuk and Junghoon’s team in the first place. Because it certainly isn’t them telling the story. But once he’s got a better idea of what they’ve been through, he sees their habits and weird behaviors in a new light, and decides to collect them.
That sounds bad, they’re not like pets. They’re definitely people. But in the same way that Jinwoo desperately needed somebody to just be there for him when he first arrived, these two also need a friend. Someone here in this oppressive facility who isn’t openly hostile. Someone who doesn’t look at them like they’re broken.
Considering how fucked up his own story is in places, Jaehan doesn’t have room to look at anyone like they’re broken. Sure, the way his group fell apart might be the least traumatic of the four of them, but it’s still not great. It still would make your average paper pusher look at him like he’s crazy, or worse, ruined.
But he’s not, and they’re not either. While he never finds the words to say it out loud, he tries to communicate that sentiment all the same.
It takes a while, but eventually Junghoon does come out of his shell. He mumbles to Jaehan the story of how his team had been hunted down after accidentally crossing into winter fae territory, and how his non-human partner, Hamin, had sacrificed himself to make sure he survived. Junghoon can’t meet Jaehan’s eyes as he tells it, but the moment he’s said it out loud, he seems to loosen up. Like airing his dirty laundry is the key, and everything after that is going to be easy by comparison.
It’s not, obviously. He’s stuck in this facility for intensive therapy, until the Bureau decides he’s well enough to be reassigned. You’d think at this point he’d just quit, cut his losses and get out of here, but he’s in the same boat as Jaehan when it comes to owing the Bureau years. Which effectively takes that option off the table.
"Only four for me," Junghoon admits, dragging a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "I didn’t show up until I was eighteen. And I’ve already given them seven years. Though with my luck, the time I spend here won’t even count.”
Of course, when Jaehan asks if Junghoon is going to quit after those four years, he gives a wry smile and shakes his head.
"Of course not, who does?"
Unfortunately, he makes a valid point. No matter how bad it gets, it usually takes hell on earth for a hunter to actually quit this job before they hit retirement age. That being said, it sounds like Junghoon and Hyuk did go through hell on earth. So they’d have a more pressing reason to get out than most.
Jinwoo gets a more complete story out of them about the whole disaster, with his usual amount of weedling and whining. As far as Junghoon knows, their team had taken a job that sent them too deep into winter fae territory, and they’d crossed the border lines without realizing it. Though the winter queen hasn’t been seen for over two-thousand years, at least as far as anyone knows, and probably never existed in the first place, her territory is still horrifically dangerous.
Considering the size of the dead-zone, anyone could have told you that. But it’s one thing to know the risks, and it’s quite another to come face to face with the consequences.
"Do you know, they say we deserved it." Junghoon announces to Jaehan one day, while they’re both sitting in the library as Jaehan studies- he’s always studying these days. "The official who first briefed us, she looked me dead in the eyes and said ‘you shouldn’t have wandered into fae territory. You should’ve known what would happen’. Like we did it on purpose.”
Bringing his head up so he can look at the man, Jaehan’s mouth twitches and his brows furrow. "She’s wrong. You didn’t deserve that. No one does."
"I don’t know," Junghoon mutters. "Maybe they’ve got a point. We don’t really have an excuse, it’s in all the handbooks.” Agitatedly, he twists his head, until the bones of his neck pop. “You don’t do that shit, even if the thing you’re hunting doesn’t wander far into the dead-zone, you’re supposed to let it go. Anything is better than fucking with the fae." He looks miserable, Jaehan doesn’t blame him.
"Did they ever bring in who did it? Who killed your team?" Over time, Jaehan has gotten a lot less nervous about digging into Junghoon‘s past. For the most part, the man seems to be handling his trauma better than he was when they first met. And Kevin at least keeps insisting that talking about it is good for him.
"There was no one to bring in." Slumping slightly in his chair, Junghoon mutters, "They were deadents, mostly. Those things aren’t even sentient. You can’t exactly arrest something like that."
Hesitantly, glancing around before he speaks, Jaehan prods, "Hyuk makes it sound like whatever you ran into… It was malicious." He doesn’t say like it did this on purpose, but it’s implied.
"Everything is malicious in winter fae land." Tapping his fingers over the cover of the book in front of him in a short, staccato rhythm, Junghoon sighs. "If it’s not sentient, it wants to kill you. If it is sentient, it’s going to figure out a way to kill you and not get caught. Besides, it technically happened within the winter dead-zone. Legally the Bureau can’t do shit in there, and even if they could they probably wouldn’t try.”
Typically, Jaehan wouldn’t talk about any fae like that. Especially not the more… traditionally civilized among them. But he kind of gets where Junghoon is coming from. Cultural relativism aside, murder is murder. There are four dead hunters and non-humans out there that never got any form of justice.
As a hunter himself, it’s difficult to gloss over something like that.
So he doesn’t try. He knows that deep down, Junghoon knows that not all winter fae are like that. Most of them are upstanding members of global society, as long as their territory and borders are respected. They’re perfectly happy to welcome some humans into their lands, provided they’ve got the proper paperwork and are following the rules. However weird those rules might be.
It’s just some of the ancient fae dead zones up in the north, the ones where it’s rumored the winter fae queen once lived, are still as deadly as they were millenia ago. Some magic never fades.
"If nothing else-” Junghoon’s voice is bitter. "I’ve learned my lesson. And I think Hyuk has too."
Though where they came from is thoroughly depressing, Hyuk and Junghoon are good additions to their little group. They, along with Kevin, become regular staples at Jaehan’s and Jinwoo’s cafeteria table. Kevin acquires a spare key to Jaehan’s room, and Hyuk fully warms up to them. Never enough that he wants to talk about the past for any extended period of time, but enough to reliably follow them down to the gym, and strike up unprompted conversations.
Over time, Jaehan notices that Junghoon and Hyuk don’t talk about being reassigned, not like Jinwoo does. Junghoon assumes, correctly, that eventually they’re going to throw him back out on the field whether he likes it or not. But Hyuk doesn’t seem to think the same.
"I think they’re going to keep me here," he admits one night, entirely out of the blue. “Forever.” When Jinwoo and Jaehan look over from Jaehan’s bed, the canid thumps his tail once sadly and stares at the floor. "I mean, it’s a miracle I made it onto a specialist team in the first place. If they ever reassign me, it’s going to be to a local team."
Regrettably, Jaehan knows what he’s talking about. While theoretically any species can do this job, in practice different kinds of non-humans are just… built better for different things. Where some creatures are predisposed to handle the high stress environment of the NHII, others just aren’t equipped for it. At least, not for the higher levels of it. A smaller canid like Hyuk, a breed that tends to fall apart under pressure, they usually end up on local task forces. Somewhere the stakes are low, and they’ll be able to handle everything that’s thrown at them.
Despite Hyuk’s dour outlook on the whole thing, Jaehan personally thinks the man is- or was- exactly where he belongs. He’s definitely built to be a hunter, physically he easily outstrips the rest of them. Mentally, he’s not doing great, but neither is Junghoon. Neither is Jinwoo. At the end of the day, that’s something that can generally be healed with time.
So he doesn’t let the canid just give up, no matter how much Hyuk clearly wants to. He insists the man keep going to his various therapy appointments, even when he gets push back, and whenever the rest of them get up to do something, Jaehan takes care to pull Hyuk along with them. Call it mother henning if you will, but at least if the man is at the gym with them, he can’t mope.
While the five of them technically don’t need to keep up with the active duty fitness standards, Jaehan insists they don’t slack on their training. Maybe, it’s out of habit, maybe it’s a desire to stave off the inevitable depression that comes with sudden inactivity. Whatever it is, it takes exactly a week of these group workouts for Hyuk to decidedly take over the whole affair. Granted, it’s not an immediate cure for what he’s going through, but at least when he’s herding the rest of them down to the training rooms, he’s not wallowing in self-hatred.
It seems like he enjoys leading the workouts. Satisfied, Jaehan lets him do it.
He’s not so attached to the idea of being in charge that he’s going to begrudge the man something that makes him happy.
It’s weird, after so long spent in this wretched place feeling like he’s out of place and he doesn’t have anyone, it’s almost like Jaehan’s got a team again. Sure, they don’t have a leader and they’re not being sent out on jobs. Hell, Kevin isn’t even a hunter anymore, but they still feel like they belong together. They sit together, they talk with each other, they spend their free time hanging out, and at a certain point, Kevin even manages to convince the Bureau to move them all to the same area of the building to sleep.
Jinwoo says it’s like a base. As silly as it sounds, Jaehan can’t get it out of his head.
You’d think he wouldn’t be impressed by something so shallow, but after over two months here, you’d be wrong. He’s finding joy in a lot of stupid stuff lately, inconsequential things that usually wouldn’t even be a blip on the radar. But when everything else is so miserable, those small moments of happiness are all the brighter.
He keeps a careful mental record of Junghoon’s bad jokes, and the faces Kevin pulls when he thinks no one is looking. Jaehan remembers exactly where to scratch Hyuk’s ears to get the man’s tail wagging the hardest, and he’s smiling for several days after an incident involving Jinwoo and the canid playing fetch in the cafeteria with an apple that ended with a poor paper-pusher getting his lunch sent all down his front.
Though it’s a small thing, Jaehan recalls every single one of Jinwoo’s dumb laughs, and every time he gets the man to grin at something he’s said. No one else might care about these moments, but he cares about them all. Because they’re the difference between him being in a good mood, and him desperately trying to stave off the creeping melancholy.
"I can give you a therapy session, if you think it would help." It’s not the first time Kevin has made him the offer, it probably won’t be the last time. He’s persistent like that. Admittedly, the only reason Jaehan hasn’t taken him up on the offer is because he feels… weird about it. Almost like he’d be further injuring his pride by admitting that he needs someone to talk to.
"I’m alright, Kevin,” he insists, managing a tired smile, just like always. "Besides, I’d rather not have that kind of stuff end up in the Bureau’s paperwork. If I need help, I’ll just ask you. As a friend, not a patient."
It’s to Kevin‘s credit that he never pushes it. "Of course," he chirps, a grin stretching his cheeks. “After all, I’m your friend first, hyung, not your therapist."
That term of familiarity makes Jaehan smile. Again, it’s the little things.
It’s somewhere around that two-month-mark that Jaehan officially decides that he’s okay here. Not content mind you, he definitely still desperately wants to be reassigned, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. He’s got friends. Ones that aren’t bound to him by the strange familial ties that an actual team has, ties that make everything so dreadfully complicated.
These are just people he’s decided he wants to stick around. Small points of light in the darkness that get brighter the closer he draws to them. A reminder that not everyone in this place is a soulless bureaucrat. An unspoken promise that eventually, he’s going to get out of here.
If nothing else helps, that little glimpse of normal is what’s going to get him through.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
There are four official classifications of hunters under the NHII. Specialists, regional, district, and local. Each of them handle different levels of threats. Each of them are responsible for answering the call for help from different groups of people.
Local teams are the most common. They’re usually smaller groups, maybe no more than one to two pairs, who cover about a city each. Some smaller towns will share a local team. Some bigger cities can have multiple watching over them. Though they’re still considered part of the NHII and have often gone through all the training, they’re basically just glorified police officers.
Then you have district teams. Those teams usually cover a pretty decent chunk of land, and they handle the issues a little too big and a little too dangerous for local teams. Usually, they also have a bit more specialization. If a specific area has a propensity for a certain type of issue, then the district team will reflect that. Whether it be with a higher emphasis on magic, the inclusion of a specific species of non human, or even something as simple as all the hunters speaking the specific language of that area.
Past that, you get your regional teams. Those are your serious teams. The people you call in when there’s a truly dangerous threat to put down, or there’s an issue that might require the use of lethal force. Typically, each of those teams covers at least a country’s worth of territory, though it can be less or more depending on how bad things are in the area.
Regional teams are what most people think of when they think of being a hunter. You’ll have one pair that has some kind of containment magic, one pair that’s good at identification and handling weird shit, and then you’ll have an elimination pair. And whenever literally anyone else needs back up, it’s the regional team that gets the call first, because they’re considered to be the closest most competent help available.
Finally, you have the specialist teams, and hardly anyone ends up on those.
Though the NHII likes to emphasize that all hunters are equal, and all of them fulfill a vital role within the organization, everyone knows the specialist teams are the elite ones. Those are the hunters and non-humans with the perfect test scores. Those are the people who got so good at one thing that the Bureau decided that’s all they had to do. Those are generally the legacy teams that rarely are dissolved and if they are, they’re replaced almost immediately.
Everyone’s got a list of numbers for specialist teams somewhere, buried in a handbook. Just in case.
For the most part, the system does what it needs to do. It ensures that everyone has a job to do, and it also guarantees that if a situation gets out of hand for one person, there will be someone else around to pick up the slack. As long as you’re following that proper chain of escalation, it works like a charm.
For instance, you never call a local team in to, say, back up a specialist team. That would be homicidal. Or just plain stupid. That’s what the regional teams are for, people qualified enough that they likely could have been specialists, but they just barely missed the mark. It equates to fewer deaths and less unnecessary suffering for those smaller teams.
Everyone says it’s your physical capabilities that determine what team you belong in. But Jaehan has been in the business long enough to know that’s a lie. It’s all about the mental capabilities. Are you going to break down and cry the first time you handle an A class threat, or are you going to get back up and figure it out. Hell, most district teams could physically handle A class threats. But, nobody’s prepared to deal with the gibbering messes they’d be afterwards.
Of course, this is all predicated on the Bureau correctly assessing threats and handing people jobs accordingly.
Jaehan had never known how threats were determined, up until he started working at the Bureau. It turns out, the Bureau isn’t just all knowing immediately. Which he probably would have agreed with before, but now has irrefutable evidence of. Usually, it’s actually a district team that will determine a threat level. It’s at that point they decide whether they can handle it or if a local team can take care of it or whether it needs to get sent to the Bureau to be passed further up the chain.
It’s weird, because he’s suddenly able to see how little the Bureau seems to care once a problem lands on its desks.
Unless it’s something really serious, an A class threat or above, the Bureau just kind of lets it sort itself out. Even if a local team can’t handle it, the job getting reassigned is kind of up to them. They’re the ones who have to go and find a district team, and if not that, then a regional team. The Bureau only gets involved if they think it definitely needs a specialist team’s touch.
Those are their golden children. From what Jaehan is discovering, they’re also the ones who are worked down to the bone.
Jaehan was never on a specialist team, so he never felt the eye of the Bureau upon him in quite the same way. But Junghoon and Hyuk were. Both of them are perfectly happy to tell stories of what it was like, dealing with such high expectations all the time.
The two of them were on the old Occult team. Currently, there’s no one filling that position, but Junghoon insists that it won’t be long before that’s fixed. "They’ve got you studying for it," he points out with a bitter laugh. "Maybe they’re planning on slapping you on the new team once they’ve got the rest of it put together."
Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise Jaehan, but then at this point, not much would.
He used to think there was a certain level of care behind how the Bureau treated its hunters. Obviously, none of the hunters got to see the inner workings, but it was always just assumed . All of these decisions, all of the jobs, the hospital care when they needed it and the psychological evaluations every year they all hated so passionately, it all seemed like it was for a greater purpose. For a good cause.
The Bureau cared.
It’s taken being stuck at one of the Bureau’s main facilities for an extended period of time, interacting with other hunters longer than just the length of a job and hearing the less glamorous stories, for Jaehan realizes how wrong he was.
On the other side of Junghoon’s and Hyuk’s coin, Jinwoo used to be on a district team. Considering his opinion of the Bureau, he’s more than happy to talk about how they were perfectly content to ignore him and his team. To the point of negligence.
"They didn’t fucking care." Leaning back in his chair- at some point he stole the squishy armchair from their old rooms and moved it to their joint common room- he stares at the ceiling. "Our base was falling apart, all of our equipment was second-hand. Whenever we sent in to the Bureau for extra help instead of just reaching out to the regional teams ourselves, they sometimes wouldn’t answer back for an entire week. For a while there, we didn’t even have running water. It was pretty bad."
Junghoon lets out a short, staccato laugh. "I know this probably sounds insensitive, but I wish that were us. The Bureau wouldn’t leave us the fuck alone."
“That’s a different kind of hell,” Jaehan commiserates, before whatever thought that’s bubbling up in Jinwoo’s mind escapes his mouth.
Settling deeper into his beanbag chair, Junghoon returns to absently petting Hyuk’s head, scratching behind the canid’s floppy ears just like he likes. "You know, sometimes they had so many jobs for us that they wouldn’t give us a break to heal from the last ones. There was one time Hamin-hyung- my partner- he had to go out on two jobs in a row? With broken ribs. It was awful."
"Didn’t you have access to the Bureau’s healers?" Kevin sounds scandalized. "For a specialist team like yours especially, they have the very best available. For free!”
"Only if you have the time to use those services." Spreading his free hand wide, almost smacking Jinwoo in the process, Junghoon points out, "We didn’t have time. They just threw us back out on the field, sometimes even before we’d gotten the paperwork from the last job filed. Kyuhyun-hyung, he always tried to look out for us, but there’s only so much you can do. At the end of the day, he was an employee, just like us. And we weren’t going to put all that strain on him.”
Eyes clouding with memories, some of the fight goes out of Junghoon and he sags. “At least… Not if we could help it.”
Mournfully, Hyuk whines and curls up tighter against the side of the beanbag chair. For such a large canid, it’s surprising how small he can make himself when he wants.
Slipping off the sofa, Kevin creeps over to Hyuk and hunkers down next to him. Though Junghoon doesn’t stop petting the hybrid, Kevin adds his own hand into the mix, running his fingers along the non-human’s back and smiling at him encouragingly. "But you’re both out of there. And it’s going to get better now."
From where he’s still sitting at their tiny table, Jaehan doesn’t comment. Because he doesn’t actually believe things are going to get better. The Bureau has operated like this for thousands of years now. Alright, things have modernized to a certain extent, but that doesn’t mean they care more. If anything, streamlining the process has allowed them to care less.
With a constant flow of new hunters and more people to throw into the machinery of the system, each individual hunter loses their importance. Their value. If a few of them are suffering along the way, who cares? At least they aren’t dead. And even then, a few deaths are an acceptable price to pay. Void forbid they actually look out for their employees.
Every time Jaehan looks at this ragtag group of forgotten hunters and non-humans, he sees that bitter reality play out all over again.
He’s really starting to wish he never came here. Obviously, right? But he means it in a more general sense. Jaehan liked his convenient fantasy of a Bureau full of basically good people doing their best to support the hunters out on the field. He never wanted to get here and find out he was wrong. Especially not when he works for them. Especially not when he still owes the organization so many years of his life.
Sadly, he doesn’t get a choice. All he can do is resolve that if he ever gets reassigned, he’s going to do what the Bureau refuses to do and look out for his new group. He may not be a leader, he never went through the officer’s side of the Academy, but he is older. If he gets thrown in with a group of newer hunters- if Junghoon’s theories are to be believed- then he’ll probably be the one with the most experience. Or at the very least, the most time out on the field.
He’ll have the chance to be that caring force the Bureau isn’t.
And until then, he’s going to look out for this little group as well. Because someone has to, and the Bureau certainly won’t.
Actually, the more time passes, the more he starts to suspect they’ve been forgotten. Maybe not Kevin, since he’s employed here, but the rest of them, definitely. Junghoon and Hyuk seem to have been written off as lost causes. Jinwoo, ever since getting transferred to Kevin for therapy, hasn’t heard a single word from the Bureau one way or another. Though Jaehan is dutifully completing his studies, no one has bothered him about the progress he’s made.
One of these days, he’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that this might be forever.
It can’t be though, he’s got too much of his service left, and they’d never make him a paper pusher. Jaehan’s not smart enough to be one, and even if he was, he doesn’t have the right mind for it. He doesn’t have the patience to sit in these endless halls and badly lit rooms forever.
Even with friends at his side, even with therapy, he’ll eventually lose his mind.
"On the bright side," Junghoon mutters one late night, draped out across the couch and half asleep. "The Bureau cares just enough to not let us sit on our asses forever. You’ll probably be made a specialist. And I’ll probably be assigned to.. some local team or something."
He manages to make both sound like hell. And Jaehan feels like when he says that, it’s got more weight than it used to. He’s read books about hell, he’s got perspective.
"Do you really think I’m important enough for a specialist team?" Jaehan asks the question with a certain level of sarcasm. The hunter they didn’t reassign and haven’t given further orders. The hunter they threw into a corner to rot.
Jerking his head around, Junghoon stares at him as if he’s crazy. "Important enough? Like that matters. It’s all down to the test scores and the numbers. You’ve got the mind for it, that’s all they care about, right?"
He’s not sure if it’s a compliment or thinly veiled pity. "I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve." Staring down at his papers, at his half completed worksheet on generational blood curses, Jaehan pulls a face. "They put me on a regional team originally for a reason. I doubt they’re going to change their minds now. They’re just trying to keep me busy."
Junghoon is silent for a long moment. "Maybe. Maybe not." It’s funny, he always seems the most confident about Jaehan’s and Jinwoo’s future reassignment. Yet for some reason, he’s the least confident about his own. "Why would they bother to teach you stuff like that if they were just planning on re-assigning you to a regional team?"
"Why put me on a specialist team when there are lots of younger hunters and non-humans who are far more capable?"
Like the very notion is hilarious, Junghoon scoffs, "More capable… That’s a lie. You think for a second any of us were more competent when we were younger? We were stupid, not capable. Actually, I’m surprised it isn’t just common practice to only assign older hunters to specialist groups."
"You know what it is, right?" Jinwoo calls, from where he’s been curled up quietly on the armchair. "They do it because they don’t care about us. Especially not when we’re young and replaceable."
"Right, separate the wheat from the chaff. Get rid of all the dead weight." Closing his eyes again, Junghoon settles into the couch, his face a carefully blank mask. "And then whatever’s left over, they’re the real hunters. They’re the ones that survived.”
Twisting slightly, Jinwoo gazes out at the room with tired, clouded eyes. “So what does that make us?"
"We’re still alive too," Jaehan points out quietly. "By that logic, we are the real hunters."
"Do you call this surviving?" Junghoon’s voice is uncharacteristically fragile. "Are you’re sure we’re not just… I don’t fucking know- What’s left over? The rest of our teams at least had the sense to die, but we’re still here." Pausing, he allows, "Or… they retired, I guess."
Wanting to reach out for the man, but unsure what to say, Jaehan stays in his seat and grips his pencil a little tighter.
"I don’t want to be put on a local team," Junghoon admits. "I don’t want them to tell me I’m useless now, even if I already know that I am."
To that, all Jaehan has are empty reassurances. Eventually, he’s going to stop voicing them at all, because even to his own ears, they sound hollow. And if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to do, it’s sound like he doesn’t care.
Because someone around here has to.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
In Jaehan’s opinion, the Bureau’s facility is at its worst when it storms.
For all the money that gets poured into this organization, the NHII headquarters are an over-glorified box. Half of the building is only one story tall, most of its roofs are made of sheet metal, and the entire thing might as well be constructed to echo. Of course it’s not going to do well in a storm.
Over in their corner of the building, you can tell when it starts to so much as drizzle. The sound of even a light shower is deafening, clattering down against the roof above them and bouncing about the endless rooms. And without windows to the outside, what might have been a pleasant kind of white noise is instead frustrating.
So of course when a storm hits, the place couldn’t possibly get louder. A bit like leaving the radio between channels.
It’s worse when they get lightning. Apparently, this facility, with its flagpoles and its metal roofs, is the highest point for miles around. If rain wasn’t loud enough, it’s nothing to compare to the peals of thunder that rumble above them, physically shaking the building with every crash.
Maybe saying this place is at its worst during a storm is unfair, but Jaehan is willing to stick by the assessment, especially whenever the forecast throws more rain their way.
Currently, they’re caught in one of those storms. Where their dorms fill with senseless noise, broken only by the vicious cracks of thunder around them. He feels each rolling wave of it tremble through the building, shaking the lamp in the corner and making their wobbly table’s fixings rattle together. When he breathes in, Jaehan swears he feels it in-between his ribs.
Technically, he should be studying right now. He’s got a test coming up. He didn’t even know he was going to have to take those, but he’s only got two weeks to get through another slim volume’s worth of material on rifts and rift side effects, and he needs to prepare. Or he at least needs to make a valiant effort to do so, if only so failure doesn’t seem quite so inevitable.
But Jaehan isn’t studying right now, instead he’s watching Jinwoo curl up under Hyuk’s blanket and jump every time a particularly sharp crack of thunder echoes above them.
Under almost any other circumstances, the sight would be comical. Here he is, a hunter of eight years, capable of handling some of the most dangerous non-humans on the planet, and some thunder is enough to stress him out. Because he’s so clearly trying to relax, even though every one of his nerves is on end, and the way he tenses up and startles makes him look like a disgruntled cat.
Needless to say, Jinwoo isn’t a fan of storms.
If it were anyone else, Jaehan might have laughed. As it is, he’s simply following each of the man’s movements and tapping his pen against his forgotten notebook.
Above them, a particularly loud whipcrack of thunder reverberates through the building. Nearly leaping out of his skin, Jinwoo sits bolt upright and almost goes tumbling off the couch as the blanket tangles around him. Luckily for him, he manages to awkwardly cling to several of the couch cushions, while the remaining rumbles of sound petter out.
Catching sight of Jaehan’s attention, Jinwoo’s face colors with shame and he clears his throat. “It’s fucking loud.”
Jaehan doesn’t like seeing the man so tense, but considering that wasn’t the topic at hand, he makes do with a simple, “Yeah, it is.”
“I mean, would it kill them to get some proper insulation?” Shifting on the couch, surreptitiously trying to straighten and drag the blanket tighter around his shoulders, Jinwoo stares at the ceiling like the storm outside personally offended him. “Just something to dampen the sound. I’m never going to be able to sleep like this.”
He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways. Jaehan knows how he is, even if he hasn’t known Jinwoo that long in the grand scheme of things. When it comes to storms like this, Jinwoo is awake until the thunder stops or he passes out from pure exhaustion. There’s no napping through it.
Of course, he doesn’t say that. Why bother pointing out what they both already know?
“It keeps the water out,” Jaehan reasons ruefully, glancing up at the white tiles that cover the wiring that runs above them. “Past that, I don’t think they care. These are technically still… Offices. Not really housing.”
Thunder rumbles over the end of his sentence. Glancing down at Jinwoo, Jaehan catches the way his fingers go white knuckled on the corners of the blanket.
“Storms never were this fucking loud where I used to be assigned.” Shaking his head, the motion a little jerky, Jinwoo scowls. Like that’s going to disguise how twitchy he is for even a second. “Our base was set into a mountain. It was a lot less…” He waves a hand above them, flinching as the booming above them ratchets up. “This.”
“It definitely makes it worse.” Staring at the man, watching the way his throat bobs nervously, Jaehan remembers his old base, remembers how rare any kind of rain was for them in the first place. A thunderstorm like this would have been a marvel, considering how few rolled by. But without any way to watch the downpour, it loses a lot of its potential shine.
The next wave of thunder sounds like it happens directly beside them, echoing down the narrow vents of their shared living space and bouncing clamorously around the room. Jinwoo swears under his breath.
Opening his mouth, unsure what to say but determined to say something, Jaehan is interrupted by Jinwoo swiftly asking, “Where is everyone tonight?” Looking around, he runs a hand through his ragged hair. “Did they get lost? I know they’re not in their rooms, I already checked.”
Though Jinwoo often complains about his hair, insisting that having it this long is a pain in the ass and the moment he gets his hands on a pair of scissors he’s going to cut it all off, Jaehan likes it. Likes watching it tumble over the man’s face and into his eyes. Likes how it sticks up wildly and puffs up like it’s got a mind of its own. He especially gets distracted when Jinwoo plays with it, sliding crooked fingers through glossy black strands without a second thought.
It takes him a moment to remember he was asked a question.
“Kevin mentioned an overnight sleep study. Something about Hyuk’s nightmares.” Dragging the information up from the two minute conversation he’d had with Junghoon at the ungodly hour of six in the morning, Jaehan’s lips purse and he looks back down at his pages of notes. “I guess they both stayed with him.”
“Shame.” Jinwoo bounces one leg, then the other. Wide eyes fix on Jaehan, and he catches a glimpse of desperation there. “I- I really need a distraction right now.”
A second later he laughs, like it’s a joke. At this point, Jaehan knows him just well enough to know it’s absolutely not.
Deliberately, he sets aside his homework, as if he was actually paying attention to it in the first place. “I… could distract you?”
He’s not even entirely sure what he’s offering. Jaehan hasn’t had a stroke of brilliance when it comes to helping Jinwoo deal with his intense dislike of storms. All he knows is that watching the man tremble under that blanket while staring at him with such pleading eyes does something to him.
Thankfully he doesn’t need to know everything, because Jinwoo still wilts at the offer as some of the tension drops from his shoulders.
“Please.”
Letting out a breath, Jaehan beckons Jinwoo over to him.
He’s entirely unsurprised when Jinwoo takes this as an invitation to settle into his lap, dragging Hyuk’s blanket behind him as he does.
If Jaehan had to describe himself, he probably would have said he’s not the type to seek out physical closeness. Actually, if he’d been asked to describe Jinwoo, he probably would have said the same thing. Neither of them are usually touchy people. Not like Hyuk, who wants to be curled up next to someone at every opportunity, or Kevin, who seems to find touch a necessary part of everyday conversation.
He’s not sure what changes when he’s around Jinwoo.
They just sort of work together, all of those sharp bits their life has given them fitting into the wounds this job has left behind. It was never intentional on Jaehan’s part, he doesn’t think Jinwoo has given it much thought either, but it does mean that his hands naturally fit against the small of the man’s back, and those slender arms easily curl around his neck.
“You sure this is the kind of distraction you want?” Jaehan asks the question into Jinwoo’s throat, somewhere close to his pulse. He trusts the man knows what he wants, but it seems right to ask. On the off chance he’s reading the situation wrong. “We could just play cards or something. I could tell you about rift physics.”
“Shut up, hyung,” Jinwoo grumbles, holding on tighter as the storm rages angrily above them. “Just… touch me. Make me stop thinking.”
That’s straightforward enough, so Jaehan acquiesces, slipping his hands under the ratty hoodie Jinwoo definitely stole from him and doing just that. Touching, running his hands over cool skin and old wounds. Tracing little scars with his fingers, and pressing against the dips between each of Jinwoo’s ribs. Going as slowly as he dares while still providing a distraction, just drinking in the moment.
Jinwoo, for his part, wiggles himself into a better position without a second thought. He fits nicely in Jaehan’s lap, small but still with enough weight to give him a presence. A solidity that so much of Jaehan’s life lacks these days.
As much as he’s doing this for Jinwoo’s sake, Jaehan seeks these moments out just as much. Hopefully for the right reasons, though he imagines the other man would be able to intimately relate to a couple of those wrong ones.
It doesn’t take long for the blanket to get tangled around both of them. For Jaehan’s lips to find the side of Jinwoo’s neck. For everything to get just a little too warm. There’s something distinctly frantic about the way Jinwoo moves, so Jaehan does his best to counter it. With deliberate movements and slow touches, grounding them both.
That’s something he finds easy to do, because he likes touching Jinwoo. He likes putting his palms over the man’s thighs and feeling the lean muscles there flex and shift. He enjoys holding onto the man’s waist, likes feeling Jinwoo’s breath hitch under the pads of his fingers. Keeping things gradual is natural, like he’s giving weight to what they’re doing.
When the thunder next cracks over their heads, Jinwoo doesn’t flinch. Instead, he wriggles his hips down against Jaehan’s and lets out a small sound of complaint.
He’s half-hard, and doesn’t seem ashamed to reveal that. Instead, he grinds against one of Jaehan’s thighs, his breath hot and his expression just a little accusing. Like this is entirely Jaehan’s fault and therefore he should be the one to fix it.
Jinwoo is unfortunately cute when he gets like this. With his bottom lip stuck out and his breath trembling in his chest.
“Already?” Jaehan can’t help but ask, pushing his nose under one of Jinwoo’s ears. Past his wild hair, which tickles his eyelids and cheeks.
“Fuck off,” Jinwoo breathes like he’s actually embarrassed, instead of still trying to get closer. “Do something about it.”
Managing a chuckle, Jaehan just slips his fingers under Jinwoo’s loose shorts, working his way up until he can kneed the insides of his thighs, before pressing into the creases of the man’s hips. That gets him a sharp little inhale, one he’s just barely able to hear over the swell of the storm.
It’s still raging around them, drowning out most of the sounds they make. Something about it makes the sounds that slip through feel illicit, like they shouldn’t be there. As if they’re committing a crime by breaking the perfect white noise rolling in waves around them. Jaehan doesn’t mind; it pushes the right buttons in his brain.
It has him dragging Jinwoo closer. Has him rolling his hips up to see if he can earn himself more of those barely audible sounds.
Jinwoo has such a nice voice in moments like this. It’s a little whiny and distinctly rough around the edges, but it sounds musical. It’s the kind of voice you want to hear more of. The kind of voice that gets loud if you push in just the right way. For some reason, Jinwoo always makes a tacit attempt at staying quiet, like it’s a point of pride, but Jaehan has gotten good at making him forget to try.
Maybe he’s cheating to some extent. He’s had a while now to get used to this man, grow accustomed to his body and what he reacts to. But Jaehan thinks that’s okay. It may not be anything, but knowing someone else at this intimate level soothes a part of his brain that’s usually difficult to reach. The small, desperate voice that wants to be helpful to someone. That needs to be needed.
Jinwoo needs him, at least in some respect. Jaehan makes a point of not thinking about it too much past that.
Right now, he’s decided he needs to be distracted, so Jaehan turns his attention to that. Uses all of the focus he should have put into his studying into this instead, pulling them together under the blanket that’s starting to drape precariously down over Jinwoo’s shoulders and gravitate towards the floor. Grinding up against the tent in the man’s shorts and nibbling at the tendons of that slender neck.
He’s careful to avoid the tattoo, choosing instead to focus on the mole he’s got on the left side of his neck, turning it into a target for his kisses.
Jinwoo’s picky when it comes to his neck. Jaehan’s discovered if he touches the man wrong there he’ll clam up in seconds. Won’t want to do anything but sit quietly in the corner and mumble to himself. The tattoo is one such place that’s off limits. There are too many memories there, too much that he’s attached to it for anyone else to casually touch it.
The other place is the back of his neck. He’s fine with his hair, he can handle his back just fine, but if Jaehan puts any more than feather-light pressure on the nape of his neck, Jinwoo panics. He’s quick to say it’s stupid and that he should get over himself, but Jaehan gets it. Because all hunters have those things. Old wounds and weird triggers.
Little, important things they can’t handle anymore, because it brushes up against those withered and damaged parts of their brains and makes them howl.
Probably, Kevin would tell them this is exactly why they need therapy. But here’s the problem, most of them would rather die than actually bare enough pieces of themselves to get down to the things that make them flinch and shut down. Better they keep it all locked away in the cabinets of their minds, and just avoid those triggers where they can.
It’s yet another thing that makes it nearly impossible to get away from this life and be normal, but that’s why they’re here, right? That’s why Jinwoo is whining into Jaehan’s shirt instead of some random civilian’s. Because there are some things they just understand about each other without being told. Things that only come from living through the same terrible reality.
“Want you,” Jinwoo pleads softly, clinging to the front of Jaehan’s shirt, his voice just on the edge of hoarse from the sounds he’s been making. “Please, hyung.”
I know, Jaehan almost says, as his fingers dip below Jinwoo’s waistband once again, tracing over the skin of his hips, of his ass, before pulling back. He can feel the barest tremble in the man’s limbs, and it’s so much sweeter when contrasted with the way the thunder had him shaking before. This is soft. This is need and vulnerability and a host of other things he can’t put his finger on.
It tastes sweet on his tongue, clinging to the back of his throat like the aftertaste of magic.
“My room?” he questions, deliberately pulling Jinwoo down against him, grinding their erections together, dragging a sharp gasp out of the other hunter.
“I-“ Jinwoo swallows down what sounds like a curse, or possibly another desperate request. “Sure, yes. Your room, that’s fine.”
As the thunder rolls around them, Jaehan grabs for the backs of Jinwoo’s thighs before standing up, pulling him along as well. In moments like these, he’s glad Hyuk keeps after them about exercising. It makes holding Jinwoo aloft and stumbling towards the bedrooms a lot easier.
Hyuk’s blanket ends up forgotten on the floor. They can rescue that later.
Jaehan’s room is, as seemed only right when he first picked it, the first door on the right. It’s within easy reach, it lets him keep track of everyone who’s coming and going, and it gives everyone else an excuse to just drop by. It’s definitely not the biggest room, not that any of these rooms are much bigger than your average matchbox, but it’s also become the most comfortable, as if to make up for it.
There’s a little bit of everyone’s stuff hanging around the room. Kevin’s extra comforter is haphazardly laying across the foot of the bed. Hyuk has managed to thieve three extra pillows for Jaehan, and has them all smooshed around the headboard. Junghoon pulled the forgotten armchair out of his own room and crammed it into the corner of this one.
It’s small enough that it always feels warm, no matter the circumstances. Even with a storm crashing dramatically above them. It’s perfectly sized for stumbling into with Jinwoo wrapped around him, clinging to his neck unquestioningly. For Jaehan, as long as he’s not left alone in it, this tiny shoe box almost feels like home.
Maybe it also helps that Jinwoo is wearing his clothing, and looks perfect when splayed out on his bed, already reaching for him and squirming against the sheets.
Sometimes, Jaehan is ridiculously easy to please.
“Hyung,” Jinwoo whispers, like he wants too many things to quite put into words.
Despite how beautiful the man looks, wanting and willing on his mattress, Jaehan pulls back for a moment to do his due diligence. He closes the bedroom door, just in case anyone returns before morning. He also takes the opportunity to turn on the bedside lamp, because goodness knows that’ll bother Jinwoo if the man stops to think about it for more than four seconds.
He’s got a thing with needing to be able to see what’s happening, especially when someone’s touching him. Someday, Jaehan is going to get his hands on a proper night light. That, or he’ll finally get to hold Jinwoo somewhere there’s natural light instead of all of this terrible Bureau issued nonsense. Until then, they’ll make do.
When he finally turns back to Jinwoo, he finds the man has already wormed his way out of his shorts and underwear, and is currently fighting with his socks. The hoodie is still on, riding up over his stomach and somehow making the sight of his flushed cock all the more obscene.
Noticing Jaehan openly staring, Jinwoo squirms and whines low in his throat, his brows furrowing under the mess of his hair. “Don’t just stand there,” he pouts, tugging at the hem of the hoodie, covering himself as his cheeks visibly turn pink. “You’re so weird sometimes.”
There’s not an ounce of malice behind those words. Jaehan just chuckles and draws closer, stripping out of his shirt and sweatpants as he does.
The bed creaks under their combined weight, like something has possessed it. Usually that sound is damning and loud, but with the storm above them it hardly registers. Instead, Jaehan is too busy getting lost in the way the shitty bedside light sparkles in Jinwoo’s eyes, and the way the man’s pout deepens when Jaehan kisses his forehead.
“So weird,” he repeats, like he’s not trying to hook his heels around the backs of Jaehan’s thighs to draw him closer.
Everything feels a lot closer here, with Jinwoo nestled into Jaehan’s blankets and his hands insistently tugging him down. Probably, he should take a moment to get the hoodie off of the man, but it looks good on him. He likes the feeling of the worn material against his bare chest, and he likes smelling himself on Jinwoo.
Besides, Jinwoo doesn’t seem to mind. At least, not enough to say anything. He’s too busy arching up against Jaehan, huffing out breaths of complaint when the older hunter doesn’t reciprocate fast enough for his tastes. Like he actually wants to be in charge of anything that’s going on.
Distantly, he’s aware that the storm is still roaring around them, but the sounds feel softened around the edges. By the warm breath against his shoulder, and his heart pounding in his ears. Because those are the only things that matter right now.
Jaehan still remembers the first time they did this, how quick and frantic and dirty it had been. How they’d fumbled their way through half of it and sat there under the stark lighting of Jaehan’s old room for several hours afterward, like they weren’t entirely sure what to do next. At that point, they’d still very much been controlled by the ghosts of where they’d come from.
Now, he thinks they might be cohabitating with those specters a little better. There’s less hesitation behind their motions. Jinwoo is willing to meet his eyes. Jaehan touches him like he’s precious, but not like he’s made of glass.
For a brief moment, they don’t have to be two hunters thrown together through unfortunate circumstances. They can instead just be people.
Jaehan wonders if Jinwoo is as painfully aware of his own humanity in moments like these as he is.
Settling a hand on Jinwoo’s hip to hold him steady, Jaehan rocks down against him, drinking in the soft whines that leave his lips. Loving the flush that disappears past the neckline of his hoodie before reappearing on the man’s toned stomach. Everything is lazy sparks of pleasure and heat, driving away the heaviness of the night with each breath.
Jinwoo’s body is entirely relaxed. His mind is clearly on things far more important than a little thunder.
He thinks if he were given the chance, Jaehan would have happily talked about how beautiful Jinwoo is. He certainly finds himself entranced by it. The way his muscles flex and the way he moves. The way his tongue darts out to swipe over already glistening lips. The way his throat bobs with every needy sound he lets out. It’s lovely and it’s entrancing and it’s one of those things you don’t expect to find in an ugly place like this.
A place of cold impersonal rooms and endless, meaningless routine.
Of course, Jaehan can almost guarantee that if he voiced any of it out loud, Jinwoo would vehemently disagree. But he can say it in the privacy of his head. He can think it as the man groans into his shoulder, and leaves little scratches down his back.
“Hyung,” Jinwoo complains, much more loudly than before, his voice pitched and rough. “Stop teasing. I- I want you to fuck me.” When that just gets a small, warm laugh from Jaehan, he gives a little growl and digs his nails in like that’ll make him more convincing. “Please.”
“I mean if you’re going to ask like that,” he murmurs, like he wouldn’t indulge this man almost anything if he asked.
Jinwoo whines when he pulls away, but Jaehan still takes a moment to look him over. The disaster of his hair and the flush of his skin. The way his chest heaves in a single, shaking breath, like he’s been struck by something too big to contain in one body. Somehow, he thinks he gets it, because it’s the same thing that crawls down his throat to make a home under his ribs.
Quickly, fingers fumbling slightly, Jaehan paws around in the drawer of his side table for the lube and condoms.
The first time he’d seen the Bureau issued stuff they apparently stock these rooms with, he’d wrinkled his nose and laughed nervously. Nights like this, he’s glad that hunters have the reputation they do. It’d be far more embarrassing to try and get his hands on them otherwise.
Using the pause to divest himself of his underwear, Jaehan reaches for Jinwoo and tugs at the hem of his hoodie with a raised eyebrow.
Huffing, like being asked to move this much is an imposition, Jinwoo allows himself to be coaxed upright and completely undressed. He shivers slightly when the hoodie hits the floor, but he decidedly makes up for it by grabbing for Jaehan, pulling him as close as possible.
Wherever their skin touches is like fire, and it lights Jaehan up from the inside.
Reaching blindly for the lube, Jaehan pops the cap, and the faint smell of synthetic cherries cuts through the smell of sweat and sex. It’s cold on his fingers, but the moment it warms he’s reaching between them and wrapping a hand around both of their erections. Almost instantly, a heavy sound sticks in Jinwoo’s throat, and he jerks up into the touch.
When the man is completely bare, he can see the scars on the other man’s skin, most standing out silver against tan. There’s one he’s got on his hip that stretches up to just under his ribs that he still won’t explain. He’s got another along his hairline he insists he got in a tussle with an ursid that sent them tumbling down a hill. Jaehan doesn’t have every one of Jinwoo’s scars memorized, but he enjoys the moments he’s given to continue to learn more.
He loves feeling Jinwoo against him. Past the physical pleasure that builds like sparks in his nerve endings, he treasures having someone else’s warmth this close. Jaehan craves these moments of physical contact because in every other respect, his life has become terrifyingly sterile.
At least in this way, the Bureau can’t really control them. This is their own decision, a choice to bare themselves for each other. However ill advised it might be, whatever it might end up meaning in the long term, at least it’s left in their hands.
Private seconds. Stolen breaths.
Hands tangle in the hair at the back of his neck, and Jinwoo curses softly as Jaehan thumbs over the head of his dick. He’s leaking, spitting up pre-cum that dribbles over them both, and he lets out the most wonderful sound when Jaehan drags a finger through it.
He wants more, but honestly this could probably be enough. It has been enough before. Just crushing Jinwoo slightly with his body weight, flattening the man into the mattress, and making him fall apart with just his hands. Jaehan has other plans, but he could be satisfied with this.
Jinwoo’s ideas, it turns out, are in line with his own. Even though he’s jolting under Jaehan’s touch and fucking up against him, he still manages to dig up the coherent thought required to groan out, “This isn’t what I meant when I asked you to fuck me.”
It’ll never not amuse Jaehan, how quick Jinwoo’s words tend towards crass. Like he’ll be able to make up for his soft eyes and soft lips with filthy, blunt words, and all those little scowls.
Huffing out a breath, Jaehan presses a kiss to the corner of Jinwoo’s jaw. “Sorry, can’t help myself.”
Pulling back slightly, reaching for the lube again, he gives Jinwoo another look, a silent question if this is all okay. All he gets for his troubles is puffed up cheeks and a wriggle of complaint. “If you don’t figure this out soon, I’ll do it myself,” he states, like his own words don’t send more color rushing to his face. “Hyung-“
His complaints turn into a small gasp when Jaehan lifts his hips up and presses a slippery finger against his entrance.
“I’m distracting you.” Jaehan’s voice is almost as rough as Jinwoo's, cracking around the edges. It doesn’t help when Jinwoo whines again and tries to push back against his hand. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“I want you to stop teasing me so-” Jinwoo attempts to snipe, only for it to fall apart when Jaehan presses that first finger in past his rim. A second later he’s letting out an open moan when Jaehan’s other hand finds his dick.
“Cheating,” he breathes, eyes rolling to meet Jaehan’s, his pupils blown wide.
Breathing out a laugh as Jinwoo clenches around him before relaxing, Jaehan admits, “A bit.”
He knows that if Jinwoo had his way, he’d want Jaehan to be rougher a lot more often. The man has asked, has explicitly stated that he doesn’t mind when it hurts. Just as explicitly, Jaehan has been clear that hurting Jinwoo, even if it is consensual, leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
Logically, he’s aware that it’s fine, that he’s in control of himself and would never actually hurt someone in any real way. But it’s difficult to convince himself of that sometimes, when his skin starts to itch and that panic builds up in the base of his throat. Better that he’s just gentle and not risk waking that terrible beast within his mind.
Besides, it doesn’t take much to convince Jinwoo to go along with it. Not when Jaehan’s got one hand on the man’s dick, stroking him steadily, while the other carefully opens him up. Instead, he just squirms and moans, tangling his fingers in Jaehan’s hair and clinging to it like a lifeline.
Distantly, Jaehan is aware of the storm still going on, but maybe it’s started to shift away from the facility, because he’s easily able to hear the panting sounds that escape Jinwoo’s mouth. Those are much better than deafening white noise. These have the right kind of tension building up in his body, as they brand themselves into his brain.
“You sound so good,” he dares to admit aloud, pressing his nose into Jinwoo’s shoulder as he adds a second finger, stretching the man as thoroughly as he can manage.
Breath hitching, dick twitching in Jaehan’s grip, Jinwoo whines louder in complaint, the sound echoing in his ears. “Shut up.” Like everything Jaehan says isn’t absolutely true. “Go faster. I want you.”
Lips tracing over Jinwoo’s fluttering pulse, before shifting down until he can taste the man’s heartbeat, Jaehan insists, “You already have me.” Because moments like this, Jinwoo does. Entirely, in ways that Jaehan doesn’t bother to numerate.
“I want your dick in me, hyung,” Jinwoo elaborates without hesitation, like he’s offended he has to specify. It’s ruined slightly by the needy sounds escaping his mouth, but it’s still remarkably straightforward. And it does something terrible to Jaehan when he follows it up by groaning out, “Jaehan, please.”
Jaehan shushes him with lips in his hair, but he still does his best to acquiesce, only pausing in what he’s doing to pour more lube over his fingers. They’ll probably have a mess to clean up tomorrow, but that’s a later him problem. That, and a problem for the poor cleaning staff, who probably have to deal with shit like this on a regular basis.
It’s only once he’s got three fingers twisting inside of Jinwoo and the man practically writhing beneath him that Jaehan decides he’s been thorough enough. Those little whines are starting to make his head spin, and the delirious looks the other hunter keeps turning up towards him are intoxicating.
Forget the rain somewhere above them, he’s drowning in this. Sinking deeper into this tiny bubble of something the two of them are forming around themselves.
Though Jinwoo groans when Jaehan pulls his hand away, he doesn’t seem too concerned about it, instead using his energy to swat away the condom the man reaches for.
“It’ll be easier to-” he attempts, only for Jinwoo to talk over him.
“I don’t care.” Hooking his legs around Jaehan’s waist, Jinwoo drags him closer once more, and gives him a slightly desperate look. “Look, don’t make me beg.”
Privately, Jaehan thinks he might like to hear that at some point.
But for now, he just caves to what Jinwoo wants. Slicking himself up with the lube still coating his fingers, Jaehan grabs for the man’s hips, his grip firm but gentle. It still gets him a delighted sound, like Jinwoo’s already anticipating what’s coming and that’s enough to settle him down.
Above them the thunder clamors, but it’s more of a rumble now, and less of an earth-shattering crash. Jinwoo’s chest depresses, and Jaehan finds a smile on his face. It probably looks stupid, but he’s right where he wants to be, so maybe he can be forgiven.
He pushes into Jinwoo slowly, ignoring the man’s whining for a moment so he can focus on the warmth that’s clouding his senses. It’s almost overwhelming- or it would be, if he hadn’t been overwhelmed a long time ago- but he loves it. Loves how Jinwoo’s thighs tremble under his palms. Loves the way he tangles his hands into the sheets and struggles to keep his breathing even.
Feels the way something settles when the man’s eyes roll up to meet his.
Jinwoo’s chest heaves, and there’s something distinctly glassy about his gaze. Already gone, even though they’ve only just started. Like so much else about this situation, it presses the right buttons in Jaehan’s brain.
It settles the right demons.
Or… Whatever he has. Considering how much he knows about the creatures now, he feels like he may need a different analogy.
When Jinwoo reaches for him, Jaehan doesn’t hesitate. He just catches the man’s hand and presses it back into the mattress, lacing their fingers together easily. Like he wasn’t quite expecting that, Jinwoo’s eyes widen slightly, and his lips part further.
“Jaehan-” he breathes, each syllable taking on a life of its own.
He doesn’t wait for Jinwoo to keep begging, he just pulls back slowly before snapping his hips forward sharply, and smiles messily at the thick curse that drops from the man’s mouth.
Almost at once, Jaehan has Jinwoo falling apart for him. Grabbing for everything he can reach, straining slightly against the grip on his hand, whining every time Jaehan’s hips come flush with his ass. It’s clear that he’s decided the wait was worth it, because there isn’t a hint of complaint in his voice now. All he’s got are breathy moans that rise above the storm, and heels that dig into the older hunter’s back.
They don’t move particularly fast, but Jaehan finds the waves of pleasure washing over him all the more powerful for it. Each steady thrust has the right kind of static bursting in his head. Every time his name trips out of Jinwoo’s lips, he feels his world realigning.
Maybe it’s not that earth shattering in the grand scheme of things. It’s just sex. But it’s everything else around it, or maybe the lack of the other things Jaehan would normally consider essential to existence that makes it what it is.
It makes it incredibly easy to lose himself in it. To forget everything else.
And maybe it makes it easier that he’s memorizing Jinwoo’s body. He’s already learned how to make him break into pieces, knows exactly how to angle his hips to brush up against the man’s sweet spot. It’s so simple, Jaehan’s convinced he could do it in his sleep. Not that he’d want to miss a moment of it.
Choking on his own voice as Jaehan hits his prostate dead on, Jinwoo’s eyes briefly flutter closed, and the shiver that passes through him is something tangible. It shakes through Jaehan as well, sweet and tantalizing.
With clear intent, Jaehan repeats the motion. Once, then again. Just watching Jinwoo’s whole body seize up as the moans on his lips destabilize and break apart. And it’s beautiful, oh so beautiful. Even though he can count the scars on Jinwoo’s body under this low light, he can’t think of anything prettier.
This is exactly what Jaehan wants, he decides. Jinwoo beneath him, looking so small half tangled in his sheets, crying out with every thrust. It makes him feel like he’s doing something right, it feeds into that intense need to be helpful, to provide.
Even if it’s like this, making Jinwoo forget about things like thunderstorms or the slow creeping dread the Bureau instills in them all, he’s still being useful. He’s still doing something when all he ever does these days is stare at the same handful of walls and pull his hair out.
Jaehan would have claimed in a heartbeat this was entirely for the man beneath him, but as he mouths over Jinwoo’s neck and shamelessly bites down, he knows that’s not true. It’s for both of them. It’s a shared insanity, a shared joy.
Clinging to each other because for a while there, there truly wasn’t anyone else, and even now with the other friends they’ve made, it’s still very much the two of them.
Someday, Jaehan figures he should voice some of those thoughts, but why bother when he knows without being told they’ve already gone through Jinwoo’s mind. They’re so different, but when they’re pressed together like this, with Jinwoo’s thigh under his hand and the man’s free hand clawing at his back, they’re the same.
Maybe he shouldn’t think so hard.
So instead he lets himself get lost to this. To the simple physical aspect of it all. On the pleasure rolling through him, and on making the man below him feel good too. Until Jinwoo’s voice is echoing around the small room, and if there were anyone currently sleeping nearby, he’d feel guilty for making so much noise.
As it is, there’s no one nearby he cares about, and if someone listens in and hears Jinwoo, they should consider themselves lucky. He sounds wonderful.
Insides tightening, Jaehan clenches Jinwoo’s hand just a bit harder.
Their palms are unforgivably sweaty, he swears he’s starting to lose feeling in that hand, but he’d rather die than let go. Especially with the way Jinwoo clings on, fitting his calluses against the scars Jaehan’s magic has left behind.
He doesn’t think he’d get nearly this much out of it if Jinwoo’s palms were smooth. Maybe that’s the hunter in him talking.
His head is spinning wildly, a mix of thoughts that usually would be too much to think about, the sensations rocking through him, and Jinwoo’s presence filling in every gap it can find. If he’s expected to contain much more than this, he’s going to completely come apart.
Honestly, Jaehan doesn’t think he’s going to last much longer, so he doesn’t try. He simply grinds against Jinwoo’s prostate several more times and gets a hand around the man’s leaking erection as his hips stutter. Everything is heat and warmth and a specific kind of comfort buried under the electricity buzzing through his entire body. Something that calls to him almost more than everything else.
When he pulses into Jinwoo, the man groans delightedly, like that’s exactly what he wanted. Jaehan doesn’t even bother to question it, he just fights the spots that dance before his eyes so he can stroke Jinwoo’s dick in earnest, dragging him closer to a climax of his own.
All things considered, it doesn’t take much. Jinwoo falls apart with a gasp, body tensing up as he spills over Jaehan’s hand. His breathing goes ragged as he rides out his orgasm, hips still canting up into the man’s grip like he can’t quite stop himself. Obligingly, Jaehan keeps up the motions of his fist, until Jinwoo is whining, squirming from the slight over-stimulation and softening in his fingers.
Even then, the moment Jaehan takes away his hand, he’s being dragged closer, until he’s practically squishing Jinwoo beneath him. In this position, his face ends up buried in the pillow, and the moment of darkness reminds his brain how late it is, and how pleasantly his muscles are beginning to ache.
Distantly, he hears a rumble of thunder, but the storm sounds like it’s moving on. Even the rain is starting to slow, less a constant tinnitus inducing drone and instead something pattering. Something that actually sounds like rain instead of the coming apocalypse.
Smiling slightly, he presses the tired expression into Jinwoo’s throat, earning him a small exhale and a squeeze from the hand he’s still holding.
“Heavy,” Jinwoo complains hoarsely.
Shifting his weight slightly, Jaehan finally thinks to pull out of Jinwoo before adjusting his position, until he can properly curl around the man. Despite the light still on in the room, he’s tired enough that it doesn’t bother him. If anything, it just gives him an excuse to drag Jinwoo closer and fumble the blankets over both of them.
“We should probably clean up,” Jaehan mumbles, once he’s put together enough brain cells to think.
“Mmm, later.” Extricating his fingers from Jaehan’s grip, Jinwoo pats his chest tiredly before curling up against him. “’m tired.”
So is he, but it’s the right kind of tired. The best kind of tired, he might even argue. Even better than the feeling after finishing a difficult job for the Bureau and finally coming home to sleep in your own bed. And it’s hard to beat that.
His smile widens, until it’s almost silly. Without a thought, he grabs Jinwoo and crushes him in a hug that’s a lot of sweaty limbs and groaned complaints.
“The storm’s over,” he points out, as he adjusts himself before rolling onto his back and dragging Jinwoo on top of him.
Flopping out over Jaehan with a sigh, Jinwoo is silent for a long handful of seconds, like he’s considering this.
“Yeah,” he finally says, which seems almost anti-climatic for how hard he had to think about it. “You’ll have to do that again next storm.”
“If you want me to.”
“I definitely won’t complain.”
Neither will I. The contentment in Jaehan’s stomach is almost as warm as the weight draped over him. And it’s just as effective at lulling him into sleep.
It’s with Jinwoo’s hair tickling his nose that he peacefully passes out.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Jaehan meets Hwichan during a demonology test, in one of the endless dimly lit rooms of the Bureau, under the watchful eye of a paper-pusher.
He doesn't exactly have normal classes, most of his studies have involved being left to his own devices. But the higher up assigning him homework insist that he still needs to take tests. The supervised sort. Some things, after all, require a little pomp and circumstance.
Some things need to be official.
In Jaehan's opinion, if he can answer the questions on the exam, that's good enough to prove he's learned the material. If he has to look in a book to do it, or ask someone else, is that such a bad thing? But no, he may as well be committing a sin by even thinking that. The Bureau insists that instead he needs to sit in a classroom, of sorts, while a test-proctor stares him down, and be examined.
That's where he finds Hwichan.
As far as Jaehan knows, he's the only one here who's currently doing continuing education. They certainly haven't sat him down in the classroom with anybody and suggested they study together. Granted, the Bureau is a huge place. This facility alone covers about as much ground as a small town, but he feels like if there were someone else in the same boat as him, he would've come across them already. Therefore, Hwichan is a surprise.
The day certainly doesn't start out exciting. In fact, the only remarkable thing is the thirty minute walk to the testing room, when surely somewhere closer-by would be more logical. Once he arrives, he's shepherded into a dark room for the test. Briefly, a timer is mentioned, like they really need to bother. He's given a single number two pencil and sat down at a small table that cramps up his legs.
It feels like he's using a children's desk. Dutifully, he doesn't complain.
That's around when he notices the other person in the room.
Not the test proctor, though they're here as well, managing to be more of a part of the decor than the fake potted plant in the corner. No, the person he focuses on is the younger man sitting in one of the other desks. He's small, maybe a little taller than Kevin but not by much, with dark hair that falls just over his eyebrows and precise, serious expression on his face. He's relatively well groomed, but Jaehan recognizes one of the standard issue hunter undershirts poking out from under his jacket. That, and the specific intensity of his gaze.
Like Jaehan, he has a neatly stapled packet of papers in front of him. Unlike Jaehan, he seems to fit slightly better into the small desk and chair provided to him.
Though he knows he probably shouldn't, Jaehan scoots his desk over squeaky linoleum until he's closer to the stranger.
"Hey."
The man's head slowly lifts up, expression somewhere between bewilderment and irritation. Like Jaehan has interrupted him, even though they haven’t begun anything yet. "Hi?”
Maintaining the good sense to keep his voice down, Jaehan tentatively asks, "Are you here for the demonology test?"
Glancing down at his own paper, like he hasn't seen it until precisely that moment, the stranger purses his lips. "Yes… I am."
Feeling a certain lump of excitement build in his chest, because finally he's not the only one doing this stuff, Jaehan gives a silly grin and scoots even closer. "So am I." Like he needs to prove his bonafides, he holds up his test packet. "I didn't realize there was anybody else here studying the same thing."
The stranger opens his mouth to say something in return, only for the test proctor at the front of the room to clear their throat pointedly. Blinking, the other man looks down. "Look- we can talk later."
Glancing up, catching the stern stare he's being given, Jaehan decides the stranger is probably right. Besides, it's kind of difficult to hold a conversation in a room like this. And he'd rather not have to keep his voice down.
It's difficult to focus on the test when there's something far more interesting sitting beside him, but Jaehan forces himself to manage. Sure, he's probably not going to get a great score, but at least he answers all the questions, and the moment it's done, he corners the stranger again.
Finally, the man introduces himself as Hwichan.
As with most people Jaehan runs into here, Hwichan doesn't give his full story right up front. He starts off with vague, general information. He's also here continuing his education. He puts the words in air quotes making it perfectly clear how he feels about the situation. Jaehan just laughs before admitting that he's here for the same.
"Kind of wild they'd have two people doing demonology and occult studies in the same facility. You'd think they'd have somewhere more specialized to stick us but I guess not." Now that they've finished their test, Jaehan and Hwichan are wandering the halls, no real destination in mind. As long as it's not another small room. "It seems like a pretty niche combination, but it's nice not to be the only one."
"The occult? Like blood magic?" Hwichan shakes his head. “I'm just here studying demonology. No occult studies for me."
“Oh." Thankfully, Jaehan only fumbles for a moment. "Well, it's still cool to have someone studying with me. I felt a little singled out with all this homework.”
It's a joke, or at least an attempt at one. Fortunately, Hwichan laughs. "I mean, what else are they going to do with us?" He asks the question like it's something he's thought to himself many times before. "It's not like we've got a team who will take us."
There's something wistful in his eyes, and for a moment, it feels like Jaehan is looking in a mirror. He can't decide whether it's unsettling or deeply comforting.
Gazing at the man for several seconds, Jaehan finally blinks himself back into action. "Yeah,” he mutters, with a tentative smile. “You're right about that."
Though he only just met the guy, Jaehan ends up talking to Hwichan for hours. They wander around the Bureau, probably covering miles of hallways as they do so. It's not enough of a workout to interrupt their conversation though; instead, it's freeing. A moment where they can just not think about anything else. A chance to unstick themselves from the repetitive cycles they've been caught in for a while.
Hwichan is being kept at the other end of the building in a shoebox room similar to the ones Jaehan knows so well. Like when Jaehan first got there, he doesn't have any friends, and he hasn't bothered to talk to any of the people passing through for long enough to change that. He's only been here for a month, but he's already feeling the loneliness setting in.
Apparently, the other thing they have in common is that Hwichan's old group got dissolved as well.
"Everyone else got reassigned," he mutters, with just a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Everyone but me."
"I feel like that's becoming a trend." Scuffing his feet slightly on the white linoleum, Jaehan stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Well, maybe trend is a strong word. The other boys… They've got different stories." He gestures vaguely in the direction of their little corner of the Bureau. "But me, I'm in the same boat. And obviously none of us have gotten reassigned yet either."
"Ah, I guess I'm not alone." As simple as the sentiment is, Hwichan still looks relieved. "I swear, I haven't seen anyone but paper pushers since I got here. They're driving me up the wall."
Jaehan offers the man a smile that's as carefree as he can manage. “Come back to our side of the facility. You can meet the others. I promise it'll be a lot better than dealing with the paper pushers."
Immaculate brows pinching together, Hwichan softly asks, "Won't I… be the odd one out? You all know each other, I don't want to intrude-"
"I'll be fine, promise," Jaehan insists, waving away the man's concerns. "I mean, we're all a little… strange, but not in a bad way.” Catching the way Hwichan rubs at his knuckles, fiddling with a neat row of scars, he gently adds, “However you ended up here, trust me, we've seen weirder."
"I feel like I'm being inducted into a cult," Hwichan says with a laugh.
Thinking about that for a second, Jaehan admits, “Yeah, I did come off that way, didn't I?"
"You did." Hwichan pats his shoulder. "But it's alright, I think a cult would be preferable to eating another dinner alone. "
It's a little depressing when he says it out loud, but Jaehan still laughs. He's opened up a lot since he got here. There was a time when he would never have gone out of his way to talk to a stranger. Now, between Jinwoo and Junghoon and Hyuk and Kevin, he finds that strangers aren't that bad. As long as they're the right sort of stranger. The kind that could turn into a friend.
Which is why with a little more encouragement he leads Hwichan away from his side of the facility, and over to their side.
On the part of his little group, everyone warms to Hwichan immediately. Jinwoo specifically seems a little tongue-tied the first time he catches sight of the other hunter. He just stares, slightly slack-jawed, until Hwichan sits down in front of him, lifts his eyebrow, and asks, "Cat got your tongue?"
Clearing his throat, Jinwoo mumbles, "I'm thinking more of a griffin actually. That or like… a larion."
Shooting the man a confused and slightly judgmental side-eye, Junghoon quietly asks, "Are you… trying to-"
Swiftly, Jinwoo slaps a hand over the man's mouth. "It's nice to meet you, Hwichan-ssi." Sticking out a hand for a handshake, he announces, "Welcome to the shit show."
Chuckling, a slightly knowing look in his eyes, Hwichan shakes Jinwoo's hand firmly. "Thank you." Looking around at the rest of the small group, he glances up at Jaehan and simply says, "I think I'll like it here."
One thing is certain, everyone else loves him there. He gets on splendidly with the rest of Jaehan's little group, fitting in like he's been around the whole time. Kevin knows Hwichan's therapist. Junghoon and Hwichan both came from similar regions back when they were still on active duty. Even Hyuk comes out of his shell to chastise Hwichan for not keeping up with his training while he's been here. And Jinwoo…
Well, Jaehan might need to give him a private word about not staring so openly. For his sake, if for no one else's.
All in all, Hwichan fits in perfectly.
It takes exactly three days for him to make the move over to their side of the facility. They don't really ask anybody for permission, Kevin vaguely says he'll sign some paperwork, but Jaehan certainly never follows up on whether he did or not. No one ever comes to collect Hwichan though, so it seems fine. If they need an excuse, he's studying with Jaehan.
Besides, that isn't always a lie. The two of them end up studying together every other evening, doing their best to encourage each other through the slog of materials the Bureau assigned them. Mostly, they're covering similar topics, so it works out. Hwichan's stuff is slightly more involved, but the basics are the same. And where their studies bleed into the occult, Junghoon is able to help both of them. It's all falling into place quite nicely.
More than nicely, in Jinwoo's opinion, who has no problem being entirely honest with Jaehan about his intentions.
“I just think he's a great person.” Picking at the bits of fuzz coming off of Jaehan's sweater, Jinwoo sucks in his cheeks before adding, “And he's hot. And his laugh is nice, and his eyes are pretty, and the other day in the gym…” Trailing off, he glances sideways at Jaehan and bites his lip, like there's a question at the tip of his tongue that he's not sure he should ask.
Ironically, this is the closest they've come to talking about their relationship. Jaehan's been under no illusions as to how it is. They're both here, they like each other, it's convenient and comforting. It doesn't have to go past that.
But this feels distinctly like Jinwoo is asking if he's allowed to pursue Hwichan, like the two of them are actually something.
Though it's probably not a good thing, Jaehan feels warmth bloom in his chest.
“He is pretty, isn't he?” Thoughtlessly, Jaehan slips an arm around Jinwoo's waist and pulls him in a little closer. “And… all of those other things as well.”
“Okay but if I do something about it, are you going to be upset?” Jinwoo's lips purse and something behind his eyes flickers towards worry. “Because I don't-”
“As long as you don't mind me doing something about it too.” Hushing Jinwoo's concerns with lips at the top of his head, Jaehan gives a small, slightly embarrassed laugh. “I mean, assuming he likes either of us.”
“He definitely likes me.” Jinwoo relaxes in Jaehan's arms, leaning back against his chest without a second thought. “I mean, obviously, who doesn't? I'm fantastic.”
Though Jaehan can see through that false bravado in a second, he still indulges it, tightening his grip around Jinwoo and properly pulling the man into his lap. “You are.”
“Shut up,” Jinwoo complains, like he didn't start it.
“No.”
Grumbling under his breath, Jinwoo wiggles for several seconds before falling still and lapsing into silence. There's something going on in his head, but Jaehan decidedly waits for it to pop out on its own, instead of prodding. After all, it's a rare moment where Jinwoo doesn't want to talk.
True to form, his thoughts spill out of his mouth a few minutes later, in a rush like he needs to say it before it gets too big.
“If you're not okay with it, you can say so. You know that right?” Fiddling with one of Jaehan's sleeves, betraying his intense nervous energy, Jinwoo pointedly doesn't look at him. “I- I'm not trying to- I don't know. My old team was really loose about this kind of stuff, and I guess it rubbed off on me because-”
Easily, Jaehan plops his chin down onto Jinwoo's head, effectively silencing the man. “If I weren't okay with it, I'd tell you. I like Hwichan too, I get it. And…” He shrugs, letting his weight sag onto Jinwoo's shoulders slightly. “As long as you're happy, then I'm happy.” He's not sure how to say it any better than that, so he hopes Jinwoo gets it. Because he definitely means every word.
Letting out a soft sigh, Jinwoo puts his hands over Jaehan's. His shorter fingers only cover so much, but the warmth is what matters. The way they cling on tightly like he'll be able to squeeze his own nerves away. “You just say stuff, don't you hyung.”
Jaehan laughs. “Yeah, sorry about that.”
“It's fine.” Jinwoo's voice gets small. “I like it.”
That's the extent of their conversation about Hwichan, but when Jinwoo unashamedly ratchets up his attempts to flirt with the other hunter, Jaehan just smiles in amusement. It's good to see the man's eyes sparkle like that, and he'd be a fool to miss the little, warm smiles Hwichan gives in return.
And maybe it helps that whenever he has a chance to study with Hwichan, that warm smile is turned on him too. Along with that mischievous glint in his eyes, like he knows exactly what's going on. Considering Jaehan and Jinwoo aren't the most covert people in the world, he probably does.
So yeah, it's working out great.
"I think it was meant to be," Kevin decides staunchly one night, when they're all sitting in what they've come to know as 'the living room'. He's got Hyuk half-stretched out in his lap and a book loosely held in his free hand. It's been a while since he actually turned the page. "I mean look at all of you, it's like you were meant to find each other here."
Glancing up from the beanbag chair, Hwichan considers this. "I… I don't think the Bureau meant for it to work out like this."
"No, no." Kevin waves the hand that's not holding his book. "I'm not talking about the Bureau, because you're right, they've got nothing to do with it."
From his lap, Hyuk makes a small whining sound and reaches out for Kevin's hand. Almost at once, the man drops his fingers back into the canid’s hair and resumes stroking it.
Letting out a long, tuneless hum, Jinwoo finally decides, "I think Kevin is right. It feels too perfect to be a coincidence, but it doesn't feel manufactured enough to fit in the Bureau. It must be fate."
The topic of fate among hunters is typically a contentious one. Considering the fact there's no widely agreed upon God of the universe, and hunters especially are all very well aware of that, the idea of predestination gets a little tricky. Still, Jaehan thinks it's a nice concept from time to time. He likes these people, he likes to think he was always going to find them, no matter what.
If they want to call that fate, is that such a bad thing?
"Whatever it is," Junghoon says with a yawn, stretching across his side of the couch until his legs lazily fall across Hyuk’s stomach. "I'm not complaining."
"Me neither." Hwichan's words are soft. His smile is tentative but real. "You guys are pretty neat."
"You're pretty neat," Jinwoo insists, with his usual inability to flirt naturally. After a moment of silence, he clears his throat and adds, "But thanks."
Glancing down at the book in his lap, yet another textbook that he's halfway through and struggling to commit to memory, Jaehan finds a smile coming to his face. He's not as good at articulating it as everybody else here, but he's thankful too. And he thinks even Hwichan knows that, without him having to say a word.
It has something to do with the way the man fits in with the rest of them like he was there from the start. Even though it used to just be Jaehan and Jinwoo, Jaehan can't imagine this little group with any fewer people than it has. Kevin's right, they belong together. All of them have similar sob stories, all of them need a new home. Of course, all of them are nervous to treat it like it's actually anything, but it's definitely on everyone's minds.
Like the rest of them, Hwichan also assumes that at some point he's going to be reassigned. Much like Junghoon and Jaehan, he’s got time left on the clock, time the Bureau gets to basically do whatever it wants with him. Even if they’ve got him taking a break now, he can still work. Eventually, they're going to remember that and stick him into a new team.
"It's just- it’s weird I guess. I don't know why I was the only one singled out." He and Jaehan are sitting across from each other in the common room, watching the single light in the corner flicker ominously and letting the night hours trickle away like sand in an hourglass. "I mean, don't district groups always need new people? That's all I was, I wasn't anyone special. They could've easily reassigned me by now."
"Yeah, I… feel the same way." It goes without saying, but sometimes Jaehan feels the need to state the obvious. "I mean, I was only on a regional team. There should be all kinds of places to put me. Anywhere other than this continuing education stuff."
"You know, I think it's just a scam." Kicking a leg of the table lightly, Hwichan stares at the empty hearth, the one that has stood untouched since they moved in, seemingly a relic from a forgotten time. "They give us a stack of things to work on, we stay out of their hair. They don't have to find us jobs, or groups, or anything else. If we complain, they can just tell us to finish our homework. Maybe it's a weird game of attrition."
The way he phrases it has Jaehan raising an eyebrow. "If it's a game, do you plan on winning?"
Hwichan shrugs. "Maybe. I mean, it's the Bureau. Who wins against the Bureau?"
"Yeah." As far as they know, no one wins against them. It's a little foolish to assume that either of them would be capable. But like so many other things, it's a nice thought. It staves off the hopelessness for one more day.
"I guess I just…” Shifting in his seat, Hwichan rubs the scars on his knuckles, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I knew my team was going to be disbanded. We’d been slowly losing people for a few years, the Bureau didn’t want to give us anyone new. I saw it coming, I just always assumed I’d get put somewhere else immediately." His eyes drop to the table. "Maybe if I still had a partner."
Jaehan’s never asked about what happened to Hwichan's partner. He knows that something happened, and he can only assume the worst, but he's never sought out confirmation one way or another. Some things, you just don't ask other hunters.
Luckily for him, Hwichan seems to be in a talkative mood. Maybe because it's so late. Or maybe it’s because of some other undefinable thing about this particular suspended moment in time. "You know, I'd never actually been to the Bureau before. At least not one of the major facilities."
Surprised, Jaehan raises an eyebrow. "Really?”
Rolling his shoulders, Hwichan looks away, eyes growing distant. "I mean, why bother? For a district group like us, the local branch of the NHII always took care of anything we needed. I had no reason to come out all this way."
Jaehan thinks about it for a moment. Now that Hwichan mentions it, most of his dealings were with local arms of the Bureau as well. Still, the idea of going straight to one of the major facilities hadn’t been alien to him. "I mean, I didn't come often, but I followed my old leader every now and then."
"Hyunwoo, our leader, he came out here a couple of times." Hwichan purses his lips and furrows his perfect brows. "Actually, it may have been a different facility, we were closer to Bryansk. But it was still one of the big six, I know that much." He pauses for a long moment. "When I got the orders to come out here, I thought I was being court-martialed. Why else would they need me?"
That seems like a bizarre detail to add. Before he can stop himself, Jaehan is already asking, "For what?"
Glancing his way, Hwichan stares at him for several seconds, but doesn't reply. There's something incredibly distant about that look, like he's reliving the worst moment of his life all over again. Like he became numb to the sensation a while ago.
Logically, Jaehan knows he shouldn't, but his curiosity gets the best of him. "Did your partner…"
"Yeah." Hwichan hesitates, but only for a moment. "It was an accident, obviously, but… you know how tangled it gets when you're dealing with enlisted versus a convict." Dipping his head, his mouth twists bitterly. “Doesn’t make me feel any less responsible though, Heeseok didn't deserve that."
Hwichan doesn't go into any more details in that, but he doesn't need to. Long and sordid stories of how people die belong only in the Bureau’s archives. Where they can collect dust and be pawed over by paper pushers in the future. Hunters like them, they have their memories.
They aren't going to live long enough for them to need anything else.
The two of the end up sitting there in silence for several hours, lost in their own private thoughts. Until morning is starting to creep up on them, and they're not so subtly watching the bedroom doors around them for signs the other boys are stirring. Finally, as the clock ticks past six, Hwichan heaves himself to his feet.
"I just hope they reassign me soon." Staring at a point just beyond Jaehan's shoulder, the man worries his bottom lip. "Because otherwise, it makes me wonder…"
Slowly getting to his feet as well, Jaehan tips his head to the side, a questioning look coming over his tired features. They all hope to be reassigned, after all, at least, he thinks they do. But there's something in Hwichan’s tone. Urgency, something the rest of them have been steadily losing.
It makes him want to push deeper.
Coming back to the present, catching the look he's being given, Hwichan presses his lips together. His bottom lip glistens slightly where his teeth were nibbling. "The longer we stay here, the more I think they’re just putting us out to pasture." He sags slightly where he stands. Whether that's the subject matter or just exhaustion getting to him, it's unclear. "Maybe we… failed the wrong psych eval. Maybe we answered one of those questionnaires incorrectly.”
Shaking his head, Hwichan’s chin dips, and his next words are quiet, almost like he doesn’t mean to say them aloud.
“Maybe we're just too broken."
They aren't broken, but Jaehan knows it's not his opinion Hwichan is looking for. He's talking about the Bureau, this unfeeling, uncommunicative body of people, with standards and motivations he can't possibly understand. To them, someone like him or Hwichan may look broken, and it only takes one person deciding that for them to be written off. And if that happens, what’s the recourse? How do you convince the Bureau they’re wrong?
It's a depressing thought.
So instead of entertaining it, he steps forward, edging around the table and towards the other hunter. Hwichan doesn't draw any closer, but he does melt into Jaehan's arms when they're wrapped around him. Slowly, the tension in his body releases and he draws shuddering breath.
The misery on his face doesn't go away, but at least, Jaehan reasons, he's not feeling it alone.
"Let's go to bed," Jaehan murmurs. He's too tired to refute anything Hwichan has said, but maybe he can stop the man's brain from spiraling more. "We can think about it more in the morning, if we have to. Maybe Kevin will know more about what the Bureau’s thinking. And if he doesn't, maybe we can ask other people. And if nobody will tell us, then maybe-"
Hwichan's lips are soft against Jaehan's cheek. Gentle. Just a little bit longing.
"Bed," he agrees.
If nothing else, it's easier than worrying.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Although it doesn't percolate immediately, that idea, the concept that he may be ‘washed up’ squats in Jaehan's mind like an evil thing.
He's never thought about it before, but Hwichan is right. There's a chance that the Bureau might decide they just… aren't good enough anymore. They're too old or too unstable. The newer, more fresh faced hunters can do what they do better, so why not replace them? It’s an easy enough thing to do, and it’s not like they’ll be able to argue.
Of course, because at the end of the day they still owe the Bureau years of their life, they won’t be allowed to just retire. Instead, they'll be shipped off somewhere to work on a local task force. It doesn't sound like the end of the world on its face, but it might as well be. Going from doing big things and working a truly dangerous job to handling petty crime and sitting around filing reports all day? The shift sounds jarring.
Not that Jaehan doesn't have the utmost respect for those local groups; they take care of a lot of important things. If they weren't around, the workload for the rest of them would go from heavy to impossible. But it’s a certain kind of person who gets put on the local task force. And they aren't the kind of person who ends up in a regional or specialist group. Hell, they probably wouldn’t even fit on a district group.
As insulting as it might sound, those are the normal people. Sure, they’re still hunters, and he’d likely be able to sit down with them and enjoy a beer after a long day, but they’re different. Their problems aren’t problems he’s used to. Their jobs are ones Jaehan’s never had to deal with.
Those are people who still value their life and have plans for after they retire.
It's something Jinwoo brought up once, but it holds true for a lot of hunters. Certainly, it holds true for Jaehan. This is it. He doesn't have plans after this. If he dies as a hunter, he dies, but until then he's going to stick with the organization. If he's on a regional team, chances are he won’t make it past forty-five, and that’s okay. If he gets stuck on a local task force, it probably won’t kill him, and whatever’s left after he retires is going to look… pathetic.
Lonely and direction-less.
At least, in his mind.
It’s a terrifying concept, that he's just ‘not good enough’ for what he used to do. According to any metric that mattered, he’d been fantastic in his old group. Yes, they weren't specialists, but it hadn’t mattered. They excelled at their job, and no one expected them to be good at anything else. He knows he could do that again. Hell, he’ll even take a district team. Sure those jobs would be smaller, but at least they would be problems.
They would involve a challenge.
He desperately needs a challenge. He can't do this if the worst he deals with is domestic disturbances or the local goblin population getting rowdy.
Worse still, there would be an unavoidable divide between him and the rest of the hunters on any given local task force. He would've seen things and been through circumstances the rest of them couldn’t begin to relate to. Sure, they would all be hunters, but when you get down to brass tacks, how much is that really worth?
Yes, they may all share the job title, but Jaehan has killed people. He's watched his friends die and been forced to carry what’s left of them out in a box. He's survived. At a fundamental level, he's different from a hunter who’s only had to deal with a few unpleasant injuries here and there.
Maybe, if he’d been put on the local task force at the outset of his career, this wouldn't be an issue. If he’d been given the chance, Jaehan thinks he could have settled down somewhere like that. He could have gotten involved in a community and come up with aspirations for after he stopped being hunter. Perhaps he could’ve made friends outside of the force and formed bonds with civilians and done all the other things he imagines come with that territory.
But that isn't the life he's led, and he doesn't think he’d be able to lie and pretend otherwise.
Maybe that's what it comes down to. He’s too broken to just go peacefully and settle down. In his years with the Bureau, he's been through too much and he's seen too many things. He's been forever changed by the horrors life has thrown at him.
The Bureau might look at him and decide he’s too damaged to do the job he used to do, but the harsh reality is that he's also too damaged to do anything else. It’s a catch twenty-two, but it’s a truth he’s being forced to confront.
He thinks that might be why so many hunters die on the job. Because they don't stop. Once you put the hunter in a person, there’s no good way to take it out again. They end up unrecognizable to the person they used to be and the outside world… It no longer makes sense to them.
Jaehan wants to believe he still understands what normal is. He certainly understands parts of it, and this new group of people, entirely comprised of hunters though it is, they make it easier. Vaguely, it’s reminiscent of what he remembers normal was like, making friends and enjoying his life, but it will never be the outside world.
Because people like Jinwoo and Junghoon, Hyuk, Hwichan and Kevin, they’ve all seen and done things that no civilian is going to be able to understand. They might not be a team, but there’s community there nonetheless, and he’s not going to get that from anywhere else.
It makes their company more comforting. It means that when he sits there in their tiny little living room, surrounded by tired hunters and non-humans, he feels at home. But it also means that he’s starting to dread what's going to happen when he's pulled away. Because eventually, he's going to be pulled away.
Admittedly, he thinks that dread comes from a lot more than the fear of not being understood. And that’s a can of worms he’s not ready to open.
Even if they do stick him on a local task force, there's a reason he's learning demonology. There's a reason he's got three books of blood magic sitting on his nightstand, being used as a makeshift table for his water glass. Eventually, the Bureau is going to have work for him.
All he can do for now is enjoy the time he has here. As backwards as that might've sounded to the him of even five months ago.
Hopefully, when reassignment comes, it’ll be somewhere he actually feels useful.
Jaehan just wishes he still believed the Bureau was a kind and benevolent God.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
"It's funny," Jinwoo mutters one day, from his usual perch on the armchair in the corner of Jaehan's room. "This place doesn’t feel quite so bad anymore."
It’s worth mentioning that Jaehan doesn't really have a room anymore. He has a nexus point where everybody else in this little group wanders through when they feel like it. He doesn't even remember the last time he slept alone. It's not even in a sexual way- though it’d be a lie to say that it never is- it's just that most of these people are lonely. And he's lonely too. Having someone there you can reach out and touch means a lot.
It means that seeing Jinwoo here is more normal for him than the man being absent.
"I mean, it still sucks," Jinwoo hurries to say, as if it’s imperative Jaehan remember that fact. Like making it clear he’s not having a good time is always in the forefront of his mind. "The food is still shit, and the people are still-" He pauses and glances at the door, which is still ajar. "And y’know, I still haven’t figured out how to get out. But other than that."
Chuckling, Jaehan sets aside the paper he was only sort of writing. "Other than that? It sounds like you just described the whole experience."
Whining softly, Jinwoo waves hand in front of his face, like that’ll be able to hide the color that fills his cheeks. "You know what I mean, hyung. I just mean the- the normal everyday stuff isn't so bad anymore."
As much as Jaehan’s tempted to keep teasing the man, he's definitely got a point. It's something he’s thought many times recently. Every time he sees their full living room. Every time he wakes up with anywhere from one to five other boys piled into his bed. "It's because we've got friends now." Gesturing loosely at his bedroom door, Jaehan smiles easily. "We're not as alone these days, that makes everything better, right?"
Sticking out his bottom lip, Jinwoo thinks about it. "Well, yeah. That's definitely got something to do with it. But I think…" Shifting in his seat, just a little restless, his eyes drift around Jaehan's room before he blurts out, "Did you know, I started continuing education. Talked to some people in suits, was annoying as possible. They gave in last week.”
It's such a non-sequitur that it leaves Jaehan blinking for a moment. Not only because of how off-topic it seems, but also because he never expected that from someone like Jinwoo. "You did...?"
Tsking, Jinwoo lets out a theatrical groan. "You don't have to sound so shocked. I'm allowed to learn things too. I passed the Academy tests just like you did."
Holding up his hands, Jaehan dips his head in acknowledgment. "You did, you're right. Sorry for doubting you." He’s trying not to smile, but it’s a losing battle.
Puffing out his cheeks for a moment, Jinwoo stares at him hard, before deciding he's been properly chastised. "It’s not weird. It's just… I don't know, I thought it would be cool.” The way he phrases it makes it sound like he’s trying to justify it to Jaehan. “A lot of the stuff that Hwichan-hyung knows, and the things Junghoon talks about. All of what you’re learning, it's interesting."
"So you're going into demonology and occult studies as well?" For some reason, the thought leaves Jaehan's chest warm, and he couldn't even begin to tell you why.
"Actually, I'm going to languages. It’s adjacent, sort of." Jinwoo's eyes brighten, genuine interest sparking in them. "Junghoon and Hwichan-hyung, they both came from different places. They may be able to speak the same language, but both of them know dialects I’d never even heard before. And- and there's this entire language that people use to cast blood magic rituals? It's a dead language, but you can still learn it." He's waving his hand as he talks, completely animated. "And of course, there's also infernal to learn, if I needed another one."
Before he can stop himself, Jaehan asks, "So are you going to be my translator?"
"Well I'm not not going to be your-" Jinwoo falters mid sentence, and his hand slowly fall back to his sides. "If I do well enough, I'm going to be someone's translator. Or language expert… Whatever the Bureau calls it."
Sensing the problem at once, Jaehan’s good mood dips and plummets straight through the ugly carpet. "Right, after they actually reassign you."
"After they reassign me." Jinwoo's face pinches slightly, like he’s fighting with himself over the concept. "Do you… think that's going to happen soon? I mean, we've been here for, what, five months? Almost six…"
The open admission of how much time Jaehan has spent languishing here within the Bureau’s halls is a bit terrifying. Already, they've seen one Winter Solstice come and pass them by. They're coming up on the Summer Solstice, eventually. He's been here long enough that he's heard word of several new hunter teams forming, and none of those teams have included any of them.
Five months is a long time.
“It hasn't felt like that long," Jaehan says softly. "I mean, I've had you here. And Kevin, Hyuk and Junghoon. And now Hwichan..." Shrugging, he looks down at the stack of finished coursework that’s steadily piled up beside his bed. “Logically time has passed, but I haven’t really noticed it.”
"Neither have I." Letting out a nervous chuckle, Jinwoo gets to his feet and starts pacing. It's clear he's trying not to with the way he hesitates every time he reaches the wall, but he has to get the nervous energy out somehow, and he doesn't want to leave the room. "I mean, I remember the day I got here like it was yesterday. I remember meeting you like it just happened? It’s wild.”
Thinking back to how it used to be here, Jaehan distinctly remembers the sensation of time stopping for him. The numbers on the clock kept moving, but they ceased to mean a thing. Just maintaining a sleep schedule had become almost impossible, and even the concept of meal time became nonsensical. Now, he’s losing track of time, but in the opposite direction.
“This place warps reality a bit, doesn’t it?” He words it like a joke, but the moment he leaves his mouth, the laugh dies in his throat. Eventually, this kind of liminality gets to everyone.
“Funny how the days used to crawl by, but now… I feel like we’re running out of them.” Jinwoo also tries to laugh it off, but there’s something distinctly nervous in his expression. “Everything just flies by so fast."
"That's a good thing, right?" Trying to look on the bright side, to take that manic light out of the man’s eyes, Jaehan manages a smile that doesn't feel entirely disingenuous. "Here we were, worried that we would never get reassigned, and now it’s probably right around the corner."
Visibly, Jinwoo hesitates, before nodding in agreement. "Just like we wanted.” Drawing in a breath, he does his best to match Jaehan’s smile, and he keeps at it until it doesn’t look forced. “Before you know it, I'm going to have a new partner. And this time, it’s going to work out or something."
Impossible though it is to know that kind of thing for certain, Jaehan doesn’t disagree. He knows full well how important it is to Jinwoo for the people he cares about to stick around. Sure, it's important to the rest of them too, but he knows the context is different here. Which is why he smiles a little wider and nods. “I won’t let the Bureau stick you with anyone you don’t get along with."
Snorting, Jinwoo shakes his head. “So protective.”
Jaehan just offers him a fond look. “Only the best for you.”
Ceasing his pacing abruptly, planting a hand on his hip as he does, Jinwoo points in Jaehan's direction. "What do you want in a new partner, hyung?"
Expression faltering, Jaehan tips his head in confusion at the novelty of the question. It's not something he's ever thought about. Actually, it's not something he's ever been given reason to think about. The Bureau assigns you to who they decide is best, you don't really get a say in it. At that point, why even think about it? It’s out of your hands.
Like he can read Jaehan’s thoughts off his eyes, Jinwoo insists, “Humor me. Since clearly you think there’s a right and wrong answer for who I should be paired up with.”
Awkwardly, Jaehan dips his head. “I didn’t mean to… to offend you or-”
Groaning, Jinwoo insists, “It’s a hypothetical, hyung. I’m glad you’re looking out for me. Now tell me who you want to get stuck with. What’s the right choice for you?”
Relieved, the moment of concern drops from Jaehan, leaving him with the original question. It’s definitely a weird one But… maybe thinking about it isn't a terrible thing. What’s the worst that can come of a little wishful thinking, after all.
"I guess…" Picking his bedspread, Jaehan grimaces and looks back at Jinwoo, his eyebrows pinching together. "You can't judge me."
"Nah, I'm not gonna judge you." Laughing, some of the nervous tension in Jinwoo's body sinks into the floor, and he walks over to sit on the corner of Jaehan's bed. "You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you what I want. So if anyone laughs, we can laugh at each other."
Still, Jaehan shifts in embarrassment. He may not have thought of this before, but the answer comes to him with surprising ease. "After all of this studying, I think- I think I want a demonic partner."
“Oh.”
Already waving his hands, expecting mockery despite Jinwoo’s promise otherwise, Jaehan insists, "Not in a bad way! Just… A lot of these accounts, the ones by older hunters, it makes it seem like demon hybrids never really get a fair shake of things. They’re always looked down on, or they’re revered in some creepy way. I just think-" He rubs at the back of his neck and falls silent, his face hot.
"You just think you’d be better equipped to treat them right." Jinwoo’s staring at him, a very specific emotion passing over his face. Though he desperately needs to know what that look means, Jaehan can't even begin to decipher it. "Damn hyung, I was kinda asking the question as a joke, but now you're making me feel like my answer is shallow."
Puffing out his cheeks, Jaehan throws his hands in the air. “I can’t win, can I? You asked, I was just trying to answer.”
“Yeah, but that’s like a good answer.” Laughing, the sound light and lacking in malice, Jinwoo attempts to put on a serious expression. “I think you’d make a great partner for a demon-adjacent non-human.”
Feeling distinctly like he’s being made fun of, Jaehan dips his head. “Yeah, right.”
Leaning forward across the bed, Jinwoo reaches for Jaehan. “No really. I mean it. You’re good with people, and at being understanding and stuff. It’d suit you to be with someone who usually gets misunderstood.”
Despite the mirth still lingering around his eyes, Jinwoo’s words are frank. Genuine. Flustered by the shift in tone, Jaehan kicks at the man’s leg lightly, pulling a whine of complaint from him. “Alright, you know what I want, now it’s your turn. Tell me what you want in a partner. Since we're being honest."
Jinwoo chuckles. "Teeth." He states it without reservation. "Big claws too, preferably. I think those would be cool."
"Teeth and big claws," Jaehan repeats, amusement lacing his tone. "You're right, that is shallow."
Instantly, Jinwoo is lunging forward to tackle him back against the bed. "And after I didn't make fun of you for your preference," he complains loudly, even as he wrestles with Jaehan. "The nerve, the absolute audacity."
Laughing, rolling the man until he's got him pinned to the mattress, Jaehan puts on a contrite expression. "You're right, my apologies, I should have said you have impeccable taste." Grinning as Jinwoo squirms, he leans closer, until his lips are brushing the side of the man’s neck. Like this, he can feel the way Jinwoo’s pulse jumps. “All the better to bite you with, right?”
"Shut the fuck up, hyung," Jinwoo mumbles, his face going red as he wriggles under Jaehan, his breathing coming faster as he does. “This isn’t- you’re not playing fair.”
Thinking about it for a moment, Jaehan simply presses his lips against the side of the man’s neck before backing off. “How about this; teeth, claws, and maybe another language for you to learn. That, or one of the cool languages you already know."
Face scrunching up, trying and failing to get his breathing back under control, Jinwoo looks up at him as though he can't decide whether to be annoyed, thankful, or something in between. "Yeah, a cool language. So it doesn't sound nearly as shallow."
Privately, Jaehan thinks if they’re pointing fingers at people for being shallow, he belongs near the top of the list. He’s certainly not thinking anything good as Jinwoo continues to squirm, his throat bobbing as he gets himself back under control.
"I think a little shallow is alright," Jaehan admits, rolling off of Jinwoo so he can pull the man onto his chest. Protesting for only a second, Jinwoo finally lets himself be held, shoving his face into Jaehan’s side as though that’s going to hide how red his face still is. "The Bureau is going to decide for us anyway. It doesn't really matter."
"Yeah," Jinwoo mumbles, cuddling closer and tangling a hand in Jaehan’s shirt. "The Bureau decides everything for us. Really… makes it easy.”
At one point in his life, Jaehan may have found that comforting. Having an all knowing, all seeing organization make the difficult decisions for him. At this point, he thinks it sounds horrifying.
But he doesn't say it, he just pulls Jinwoo tighter against his chest and decidedly doesn't think about the problem. Maybe if he ignores it for long enough, the day he’s reassigned will feel like a happy surprise, instead of crippling defeat.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Chapter 2: Team Building
Chapter Text
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Yechan’s arrival is met by surprising fanfare. Which is weird, considering how mundane it actually is.
The whole thing begins down in admissions, where people coming in and out of the building are processed. Whether they be hunter, paper pusher, or civilian. Rumor is there's a non-human who’s just arrived, a big one. Something worth talking about. Something exciting.
Considering all of the creatures that come through here, to Jaehan, this could mean anything. Usually, this place doesn’t get excited about much, but there are some creatures… Rare or powerful ones, that always bring a certain amount of interest. Of course, it isn’t any of his business, even if Jinwoo insists it could be, so he doesn’t pry.
He has his little group of people. Just because a new non-human is interesting doesn’t mean he needs to collect them. A fact he tells an absolutely baffled looking Hwichan, who has the temerity to suggest acquiring new people has become his thing. It hasn’t, and considering the fact he’s not trying to draw anyone’s attention, Jaehan would rather not go after the shiny new creature that everyone is talking about.
So of course he shouldn’t be at all surprised when Junghoon wanders in that evening with the very same non-human that’s on everyone’s mind.
"He’s sleeping across the hall," he announces, by way of explanation. "I figured I'd introduce him to everybody else. It'd be weird having somebody so close that we didn't know."
As one, the room looks up and stares at the newcomer.
In his time, Jaehan has come across a lot of non-humans. It's almost like he's in a business that necessitates he work around quite a few of them. But he doesn't think he's ever seen anything like this.
The man is tall, intimidatingly so. When he walks through the door, he has to stoop so his large, curved horns don't brush the frame. There's something vaguely draconic about him, but at the same time, Jaehan has spent too long learning about demons for him to miss the infernal influence. It’s in the glow of his eyes, and the shape of his tail. The three toes instead of four.
The faintly sweet smell that follows him as he walks in.
Jaehan’s really trying not to stare, but he knows without being told that this is the non-human who’s been causing such a fuss. Because how could they not be. He knows what’s normal around here and that certainly isn’t.
Hwichan is the first of them to speak.
"Welcome.” Even just that single word manages to sound a little stilted. He glances between the new-comer and Junghoon, before his eyes slide to Jaehan. The game of checkers he’d been playing with Jinwoo has been all but forgotten. "This is… the club?"
The non-human, who Jaehan is realizing is comprised more of fangs and big leathery bat wings than anything else, looks around the room, his brows slightly furrowed. "I didn't realize they had clubs around here."
Deciding to jump in before any confusion arises, Jaehan hops to his feet. "It's not a club, that was a poor turn of phrase. We’re just here.” After a second’s hesitation, he sticks out a hand in the non-human’s direction. “I'm Kim Jaehan." The stranger regards his hand like he's never seen one before. "You're… a demon hybrid."
Instantly, the non-human bristles. "Excuse you, I am a gargoyle. Not a hybrid.
Momentarily chagrined, entirely unused to the common colloquial term getting such a reaction, Jaehan hesitates. “Okay, sorry, you're right. Gargoyles are different than hybrids."
"Of course I'm right," the non-human states, the spines of his tail flaring. "I've been one all my life."
The air crackles with a certain amount of hostility. At least, it does from the stranger’s end. Jaehan, meanwhile, is trying to figure out how best to talk to someone who is easily two feet taller than him without making it feel weird. "I never meant it to be insulting. I really am sorry. It's just…” He takes a moment to fish through his new wealth of knowledge on the subject. “Aren't gargoyles half demon?"
Shifting on scaly, taloned feet, the non-human’s lips purse. It doesn't quite manage to hide all of the wickedly sharp teeth, but it does immediately put Jaehan in mind of a kicked puppy. "Technically, I guess." Mollified, he dips his head. "Distantly? We’re our own species now, we have been for a while. We're officially recognized."
Instead of finding the defensiveness off-putting, Jaehan finds it endearing. Though it might be the wrong move, he finds his cheeks splitting in a silly grin. "Alright then, not-a-hybrid-actually-a-gargoyle, what's your name?"
Looking around the room, at the others who up until this point have been watching them with rapt attention, the gargoyle ruffles his wings. "Yechan. My name is Yechan."
From his seat, Jinwoo declares, "Yechan is less of a mouthful than calling you gargoyle.”
Startling slightly, Yechan awkwardly agrees, “Ah, I guess it is.”
Yechan turns out to be a little more standoffish than the rest of them. He keeps to himself, he spends quite a bit of time in his room. At meals, he doesn’t tend to engage in the raucous conversations everyone else does, and on the rare occasions they do manage to entice him into the group living room, he sticks to monosyllabic answers and always those slightly sad, quiet stares.
But contrary to almost everyone else around here, it doesn’t seem to be because of any personal trauma. Instead, as far as Jaehan can tell, it seems to stem from Yechan’s intense aversion to getting attached.
"I'm leaving soon." Every time he's asked about it, Yechan will say the same thing, always in this exceptionally convicted tone. "The Bureau is just going to put me back where I was. I only just started working with that team, I haven't been working long enough for them to pull me off the field.”
“Which is why you can’t play chess with me?” Junghoon prods, lifting an eyebrow. “Come on, I’ll let you be dragons this time and I’ll be fae.”
Frustrated, like his point is somehow being entirely missed, Yechan’s wing-like ears flatten back against his head. “I’m trying to say there’s no point in settling in because I won’t be staying.”
He looks distressed about it. Jaehan makes a point of getting up from flashcards with Hwichan to go over and offer the gargoyle a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You might as well enjoy the time you are spending here.”
“Friends will make it more difficult.” Sticking out his bottom lip, his canines digging into it as he does, Yechan mumbles, “They're going to reassign me any day now.”
It's a feeling they all understand, but the sentiment isn’t one they’ve espoused as often recently. Though Jaehan doubts this was the gargoyle’s intentions, Yechan's declarations bring with them a wave of melancholy that falls over the rest of them. As they're all reminded of what they’ve lost, and may never have again.
At least, not in the precise ways they personally remember.
While Yechan is determined to be reticent, eventually, they manage to pry his story out of him. Or rather, Kevin gets it out of him, with Hyuk playing a surprisingly adept wingman. Before this, the gargoyle worked on the local team of all things. He's about as confused by the facility they’re stuck in as Hwichan had been, having never seen anything similar before, and he’s a little awed to learn a couple of them were once on an actual specialist team. Which, yes, is just as endearing as it sounds.
Apparently, he never attended the Academy. Instead, he’d simply been acquired by his local team and put into the system. Most of his experience in the field consists of chasing after small stray creatures, working as a crossing guard, and breaking up domestic disputes. The closest to interacting with the Bureau he’s ever gotten was a singular visit to his local NHII dispatch.
But when his old partner had retired, the Bureau had noticed him in the system, partnerless and full of potential, and they’d decided to acquire him. Properly this time, not just tacitly. Unfortunately, Yechan hadn’t known enough to be entirely aware of the paperwork he was actually signing, and the next thing he’d known, he’d been plucked up and transferred, with nothing but two small suitcases and a handful of official paperwork to his name.
Of course, before the Bureau committed to relocating him like this, he’d been subjected to a battery of tests. Physical ones, educational ones, and of course psychological ones. Not that Yechan seems particularly phased by any of it.
"I passed," Yechan tells them very seriously, when Jaehan asks him about it. "I don't know what that means, but I did."
"It might mean they’re putting you on a more important team." It's not often that Hyuk speaks up, he tends to spend most of his time curled up in someone’s lap half zoned out, but Yechan's presence seems to have made him a little more talkative. "They might be moving you up to a district team, or even a regional one."
Wrinkling his nose, Yechan bares his multitude of sharp teeth, like the very idea is unpleasant. "I never asked for that. I'd like to go back home eventually.” That’s a sentence rare enough to turn several heads in the room, including Junghoon’s, Hwichan’s and Jinwoo’s. Jaehan doesn’t flinch in quite the same way, but he does feel the wistfulness that builds in the back of his throat.
Imagine having a home to go back to…
"District and regional teams aren't that bad." Though Hyuk has never been on either of those types of teams, he sounds amazingly certain of himself. "The jobs are a little more dangerous, but you look like you could handle it." He grins, his tail thumping once behind him. “Look at all those teeth!”
Thinking about it for a long moment, Yechan finally just shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. They're going to reassign me to another local team nearby. That’s what I got hired to do. That’s what I’m going to keep doing."
Part of him wants to let the gargoyle have his wishful thinking and not bother with it, but deep down Jaehan knows that someone’s going to have to break the truth to him eventually. And if not him, then who? “You may not have a choice.” His voice is soft, but it naturally draws the attention of the room regardless. “If you signed the paperwork, the Bureau’s going to put you where they put you."
"I know that," Yechan mutters, nose wrinkling like he's tasted something foul. “As long as they put me back out there, I don't care."
He obviously does, but the longer he spends around their little group, the more that firm desire to go back home fades. It's definitely not because they tell fantastical stories about their old teams and jobs and lives, hell, it feels like most of the stories they tell him are horror stories. But Yechan seems to connect with them, and with his interest peaked, he finally lets himself loosen up. Just a bit.
Despite his appearance, the non-human isn't all that threatening. He certainly looks scary, with the horns and the teeth and the claws and oh-let's-not-forget the huge dragon wings that seem to bump into anything and everything he passes. By every metric, Yechan looks like a monster. But personality wise, he's not.
He's quiet, a little clumsy, almost boring when it comes to his interests, and on top of that, he’s also ridiculously nice. Sure, he's serious, to the point of being short at times, but it's clear that he never intends to be mean.
Needless to say, they collectively add him to the group without a second thought.
Hyuk and Jinwoo latch onto him the most firmly, as Jaehan probably could have predicted. Jinwoo’s just the kind to be easily fascinated by cool new things. He wants to know all about what it’s like to be a gargoyle, he wants to know if Yechan can actually fly, which naturally ends with him asking Yechan to fly him places. Thankfully, once the newness has faded, he still decides Yechan is cool, and therefore he continues to drag the man everywhere.
Hyuk’s attachment is a little different. Considering the canid used to be the only non-human in their group, there were always things he brought up the rest of them couldn’t relate to. Now, there’s someone else around who gets it, and having that seems to help him crawl out of his shell just that much more.
Jaehan also gets attached to Yechan, but he thinks the situation has layers for him. Before the gargoyle, it always felt like their little group was just a collection of friends. A tight-knit one, sure, but closer to a weird roommate situation than anything else. Occasionally, it had felt like something deeper, but never for long enough to get hung up on.
But with the addition of Yechan, a new dynamic emerges. One that Jaehan picks up on, but Jinwoo inevitably voices first.
"It's almost like… We’ve got a team again." Jinwoo says it to Hwichan and Jaehan one night, picking at Jaehan’s extra blanket and bouncing his knee as he does so. "Like, Yechan could be one of our partners. Same with Hyuk. Just like a real group.”
Carefully, Jaehan exchanges a look with Hwichan. It’s not that he hasn’t been thinking exactly that, but he’s had enough sense not to voice it. And the moment he makes eye contact with the other hunter, he knows Hwichan is thinking something similar.
Because to say it makes it real. And in making it real, it also shows just how tenuous this whole thing really is.
"We aren't a group, Jinnie," Hwichan reminds him quietly. "And the chances Yechan is actually going to be assigned to one of us are basically next to nothing."
“Don't talk about it like it's an assignment." Completely missing the point of what Hwichan just said, Jinwoo waves his hands. "It's like… he belongs here. I mean, his old partner retired. Like yours, hyung." He points at Jaehan, his eyes just a little too bright. “They even moved him in across the hall from us, it's not a coincidence."
Exchanging another look with Hwichan, Jaehan finally speaks up. "I'll admit, the parallels are weird."
"No, not weird. Fate." Jinwoo says the word with utter certainty, passing over the knee jerk reaction it inspires from the other two hunters. "Yechan is meant to be here. Even if they never pair him up with any of us, it’s still like a real group." His eyes are wide, imploring, like he needs to be understood. It’s one of those expressions Jaehan’s never been able to resist. "I'm not crazy."
Almost at once, Hwichan is on the bed next to him, pulling Jinwoo closer and shaking his head. "Neither of us said you were crazy. We know you're not."
“I just…” Fussing with one of Hwichan’s sleeves, like he doesn’t know he’s doing it, Jinwoo mumbles, “I can’t be the only one who feels it.”
This time, Jaehan purposefully doesn’t catch Hwichan’s eyes, because he’s scared the man will see how deeply Jinwoo’s words have sunk their claws into him.
Sighing softly, Hwichan grabs for Jinwoo’s hands and pulls them closer, preventing him from fidgeting. Once he has the man’s full attention, he leans forward and softly admits, “I get it. I’ve been thinking the same thing lately.” The for better or for worse lingers in his tone, but he doesn’t voice it, and Jinwoo, too tense to pick up on it, just melts into Hwichan, relieved.
Privately, Jaehan considers how dangerous it is for them to all get so attached. Because they definitely have. Even to new people who have just shown up. Out of all of them, Yechan’s definitely the most likely to get reassigned. The Bureau clearly seems to be fast tracking him for something. They have plans for someone with his skills, and they probably aren't going to wait to act on those plans. Wanting him to stick around is understandable, but foolhardy.
Unfortunately, Jaehan is foolish. Which is why he eases himself out of the old armchair, walks over to Jinwoo, and ruffles his hair. "You should stick with Yechan. Make sure he feels like he belongs here too." Firmly, he nods his head when Jinwoo looks up at him. "If it's fate, then him fitting in is probably pretty important."
As he says it, Hwichan gives Jaehan a look, like he's enabling the wrong thing. And maybe the man is right, maybe he is. But at this point, what's the harm? They're all perfectly aware of the truth. It’s still nice to pretend for a moment.
It's nice to have a group again.
That sentiment only solidifies when Jaehan finds out exactly why Yechan showed up at the Bureau; the need to keep these people together like they’re a team, even though logically he knows they aren’t.
According to the gargoyle, they’d assigned him to a hunter who had already said he wanted to retire. Despite it being a losing battle from the start, the hunter was someone the NHII trusted, and they’d wanted him to stick around for as long as possible. Giving him Yechan, a fresh-faced, earnest non-human who just wanted to help, had been used like a weird kind of guilt trip. A deterrent, to keep him from quitting.
Obviously, it hasn't worked.
"I liked Sunghwan-hyung," Yechan admits to Jaehan, one night when it’s just the two of them in the common room. "He was a little weird sometimes, and kinda jumpy, but he was kind. I don't think he wanted to leave me."
Remembering his old partner, the ashamed, almost desperate apologies that had poured out of Jongchan's mouth as their bond was broken, Jaehan gets it. Actually, he thinks that six months later, he's just now starting to understand. The kind of decision that really is, and how difficult it is, no matter how selfish it looks to the person left behind.
"It's one of those impossible decisions,” is what Jaehan says aloud, his eyes downcast as he does. “And the Bureau intentionally makes it harder. Just remember… It wasn't you."
"I know.” While Yechan’s clipped manner of speaking conceals a lot of the emotion behind his words, it’s still there, leaking out around the edges, seeping into his voice. "At least, that's what Jinwoo-hyung tells me."
Cheeks ballooning out, Jaehan gives a stout nod. "Well, he's right. My…” He pauses, as he realizes he hasn’t really told this story, but when he catches Yechan’s yellow eyes on him, he feels it fall out of his mouth regardless. “My old partner left me. His mandatory service was up, it was silly of me or the Bureau to expect him to stay. And while it sucks, it doesn't… Well it doesn't make him a bad person, and it doesn't make me worthless for being the one still here. It doesn't make you worthless."
Completely uncaring of the fact that Jaehan seems to be rambling, Yechan just nods, his face falling slightly as he does. "I think they’re putting me on a different kind of team because- because the rest of my old local team didn't want me." He says the words haltingly, like he knows them to be true, but desperately doesn't want to believe them. "We- it was a small town. And they thought I was unusual. Everyone did."
Though Jaehan's first instinct is to say the man isn't, he knows it's a lie. Even by the standards of a world filled to the brim with strange and terrifying non-humans, Yechan falls on the more monstrous side of that scale. He's physically imposing, even if he isn't a scary person on the inside. He looks just demonic enough to not fit in with dragons, and just draconic enough to evoke the same instinctive feelings of awe in the people around him. At first glance, he’s scary.
Even now, he towers almost comically over Jaehan, easily pushing eight feet tall and filling out every inch of that with lean muscle, quivering spines and mottled scales. To tell him he’s non-threatening would be patently false.
So Jaehan… doesn't lie.
"You're right, you’re terrifying." When Yechan jerks his head up to look at Jaehan, he grins. A little lopsided, maybe even a little goofy, but it's as genuine as he can muster. "But I like that about you. I think you're cool, and the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more interesting you are. Honestly, it's their loss."
It’s tentative and slow, but the words still get a smile. A nervous one, like Yechan isn’t sure if he’s doing it right.
Though it’s full of viciously sharp teeth, Jaehan still feels something inside him melt.
"I hope when they reassign me, it's to a good team like yours." When Yechan says it, it’s with utter sincerity and certainty. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Instantly, Jaehan is waving his hands, trying to dismiss the words. "No, this isn't- we aren't actually- it's just-"
"I think you are a team. At least, in all the ways that matter." Rubbing the back of his neck, Yechan admits, "My experience isn't exactly comprehensive, but the rest of you are what I imagine a real hunter group would be like."
Staring at that slightly abashed look on Yechan’s face, Jaehan knows exactly why he’s arguing. It’s because the gargoyle is right, and he desperately doesn’t want to admit that. There are a multitude of reasons why, but when he gets down to it, most of them lead back to one particular memory.
Of his old leader Minjae opening the letter from the Bureau, officially dissolving their team, and that crushing sensation of loss that had followed it.
He doesn’t want to go through that again, but… Hell, denying it at this point isn’t going to change reality. It’s already too late.
Protests dying on his lips, Jaehan dips his head. "Yeah," he mutters, voice just a little hoarse. "I guess we are a team, huh?"
"As long as I'm here, I'd like to be part of it." Almost like a puppy, exactly like Hyuk, Yechan's bony, spiked tail thumps against the seat of the couch. "If that's alright with you."
A lump forming in the back of his throat, Jaehan gives what he hopes is a stout nod. Stepping closer to the gargoyle, he lifts a hand and runs his fingers through the non-human’s hair. It's surprisingly soft, just like everything else about Yechan.
"That would be fine."
Jaehan knows without being told that the moment any of their little group is forced to leave, it's going to feel like hell.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
They're all there the day that Jonghyeon and the rest of his team vanish.
Junghoon is the one who brings them the news, it's something he often does. Considering the fact that he and Hyuk are still in intensive therapy, along with Jinwoo, the three of them end up in places that the rest of them don’t. They walk past rooms Jaehan doesn’t even know exist, and meet people who might as well live on different planets for how often he’d come across them.
It make sense, of course. The facility is a huge place. Just walking its length takes a couple hours. If you don’t have to go somewhere, you just don’t.
But the side effect is that Jaehan is woefully out of the loop when it comes to what’s going on… anywhere outside of his little bubble. And it doesn’t help that he just doesn’t talk to anyone outside of his little group of people. If he wants to keep even vaguely up to date on current events, he’s got to rely on what information is brought back to him.
Even then, what he gets is patchy at best. Jinwoo used to be more in tune with what was going on around him, but it seems like he’s hit a point where he doesn’t feel like he needs to know everything. Kevin occasionally brings news of the outside world, but it’s always hopelessly mundane. Meanwhile most of the other men Jaehan spends time with don’t pay enough passive attention to their surroundings to be much help.
Blessedly, Junghoon hears things, and he likes to talk about those things. So Jaehan’s guaranteed at least one consistent source of news. Sometimes, it's normal stuff. Different teams who have passed through, and what their business with the Bureau was. New groups that are forming, as well as older groups who’re disbanding. Occasionally, he'll have a story about some crazy human or non-human that did something horrific enough that people are talking about it.
They aren’t always the most interesting stories, but they are stories of a sort, and Jaehan will take what he can get.
This news is different.
The fae specialist team was, at their prime, legendary. Considering the fact they vanished while still in their prime, they've crossed the boundary from legendary into just legend. Everyone knew who they were. Even if you were just a little local team out in the middle of nowhere, you knew Jonghyeon, Dongho, and their non-human partners Aaron and Minhyun. After all, they'd been handling fae related issues for so long that some people suspected they might be fae themselves.
When Junghoon shows up in the cafeteria, sits down in front of Yechan, sets down his food tray, and announces, "Jonghyeon-ssi's team is dead," saying it’s a shock doesn’t even begin to cover it.
"Are you sure?” Leaning forward on his bench, Hwichan looks at Junghoon with a mixture of disbelief, shock, and horror. Maybe even a little bit of morbid curiosity.
"They… Must've been talking about a different Jonghyeon, right?" Jinwoo gives a small, nervous laugh as his fingers clench around his cheap metal fork. "The fae team can just die. That's-" He flounders, seemingly unable to find an analogy big enough and apt enough for the situation. "It can't happen."
Confused, not quite ready to just believe the news, Jaehan looks to Kevin, their eternal contact within the Bureau. "Is this…"
But Kevin looks as baffled as the rest of them. He's staring at Junghoon in evident surprise, like he can't quite believe his ears. "Where did you hear that?"
Settling down slightly in his seat, Junghoon slumps forward over the table, almost getting his hair in his food. "Down by the PTSD specialist I’m seeing." He gestures loosely in a direction, void knows if it's actually the direction that wing of the facility is in. "I heard a couple of-" He hesitates. “Well, they weren't paper pushers, that's for sure. They looked too… official. I heard them talking about it."
"Any other details?" Jaehan prods carefully, unsure if there’s anything to make worse by being blunt about it, but still unable to deny his instinct to be tactful. “Or is it too fresh?”
Junghoon gives Jaehan a look. "That's the thing, hyung, I think it's old news." There's something very close to panic in his eyes. Like he’s seen something and he knows he shouldn't have. "They talked about it like it happened a couple weeks ago, maybe more. But if it’s been that long, wouldn't they have already told us? You know, put out some sort of official statement? That's…" He gestures widely before slumping sideways into Hyuk.
Carefully, Hyuk slides both of their plates out of the way and pats Junghoon on the back. "I mean, we are kinda stuck here." He points out, voice soft. "We’re not on any of the official mailing lists anymore. A lot of news doesn't reach us until late."
"That's not true," Hwichan argues, straightening his seat. "We’re in one of the Bureau’s main facilities. We hear about everything when they hear about it. Or, we hear about everything when it becomes common knowledge. If this is old news, we should've heard about it when it happened."
Hyuk’s ears flatten defensively. “Only Kev gets internal memos.”
Swiftly, Hwichan’s eyes flick to Kevin.
“They… didn’t tell me either.” As several people at the table start to open their mouths, he hurries to continue, “But-! But my clearance isn’t exactly high. If it was considered classified in any way, they wouldn’t have sent out a memo.”
Jaehan is inclined to agree, but he can see the agitation building within the group so he holds out a placating hand. "Look, maybe they didn't know until just recently." While it’s not pleasant to say, because it implies that there might be a chance Jonghyeon is actually dead, he forces the words out anyway. "If they were deep in fae territory when it happened, it might've taken the Bureau a couple weeks to… To find the bodies."
A hush falls over all of them. Jinwoo visibly pales. Hwichan looks like he may lose what dinner he’s consumed.
Tentatively, Yechan raises his hand. "This might be rude, but… who are we talking about?”
From beside him, Jinwoo reaches out and pats the gargoyle on the back. "The fae specialist team." Grimacing, he amends, "The… old fae specialists. They were just like any other specialist team. Took care of the big problems relating to fae and fae adjacent stuff.” Pausing, his face twists and his hand slips off of Yechan. “They’ve… They’d been around for a while.”
Like he can sense how upset about this everyone else is, Yechan clears his throat, and makes a point of stretching out his wings to cover both Jinwoo and Hwichan. “We never had many fae in our area. I guess no one I ever worked with ever had a chance to work with him."
Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaehan stares at his plate. "Our paths crossed a couple times. My team was back up for them when they were in the area. I think other specialist teams probably worked with them more." He looks sideways at Junghoon and Hyuk.
Looking away from Junghoon, who is still trying to make himself as small as possible, Hyuk answers. "We’d run into each other every now and then. They kind of had specific regions they worked in, and sometimes we'd end up in one of those regions. You know how it is."
Even though none of them specialize in fae, Jaehan knows exactly what he's talking about. By their nature, the fae are much more territorial and standoffish than other non-humans. They're one of the few species who have specific countries and borders in which only other fae live. Usually, non-humans and humans are perfectly content to mingle, but in this case, tradition still holds strong. Because of this, people who work with fae don't really work with anyone else. Or if they do, it’s because of exceptional circumstances
Jonghyeon and his team had been uniquely skilled at what they did. Though a lot of it had only ever been stories he'd heard secondhand, Jaehan knew the Bureau credited them for stopping at least one minor war. Who knew how much more strife and discord they’d been responsible for quelling.
From where he's still curled against Hyuk, Junghoon mutters, "I don't really… I don't remember them that well. I mean, we worked with them, but… they were always in a different class? One of those established groups, y’know. One of those things that never changes." He says that last bit furtively, like he half expects to be laughed at.
But the statement only gets him nods. From Jinwoo and from Hwichan especially, who seem to entirely agree with the sentiment.
"I just- dead. Just like that?" Hwichan shakes his head, the disbelief still obvious in his eyes. "How did they say it happen?"
"I… didn’t hear that part," Junghoon mumbles. "I wasn't even supposed to hear what I did, I don't- I don't know who to ask. What if they never tell us?"
"They have to tell us," Kevin reasons, with his usual level of confidence. "This is big news in the hunter world. It would be remiss of them to keep the information under wraps. Irresponsible, even."
Regrettably, if the news is true, Jaehan suspects that's exactly what they're going to do. After all, the Bureau never tells them shit. Even if it's something they should know, even if it's directly pertinent to them, it's always just shoved away into the archives and forgotten about. Like they’re so used to comfortable little half truths they’ve forgotten there’s an alternative.
But… he's not going to let that happen here. Even if he was never friends personally with anyone from the fae team, he feels like they owe it to them. Not just him, but the community in general. Those hunters were the good kind of hunters. They deserve to be remembered.
Jinwoo must be following the same train of thought he is, because he stirs from under Yechan's wing and looks in his direction, eyes sharp. "I want to know the truth."
"I do too," Jaehan admits, glad he didn’t have to be the one to say it. "Even if they tell us, I doubt we're going to get the full story just like that."
Brightening slightly, with determination if nothing else, Jinwoo puts his hands flat on the table. "So we go digging for the rest of the story, right? I can do something like that." Looking around at everyone else, he amends, “We can do something like that."
They've never done something similar, actually going out of their way to find information on anything that isn’t strictly their business, but this seems like an important exception. Which is why Jaehan nods stoutly in agreement. "It’d be better if we all looked into it, yeah. We can ask around, poke into what we can. Someone here has to know the truth. Even if they're not going to tell it to us, they have to keep the real record somewhere."
Several of the people at the table look a little apprehensive. Hyuk recoils slightly at the suggestion, and Kevin's brows furrow tightly, like the idea of possibly going against the Bureau is nerve-racking. Even Hwichan looks concerned. But Junghoon, Yechan, and Jinwoo are nodding. And it's clear the others are going to follow along, if only to keep from being left out.
"We could get into a lot of trouble for this," Kevin says, like he has to at least try to inject some common sense into the situation. "The Bureau doesn't like it when people poke their noses where they don't belong."
"Yeah, hyung." Hyuk's mouth draws into a tight line, revealing the slight protrusion of his canines. "Stuff is usually confidential for a reason.”
"But is it always a good reason?" Jaehan challenges bluntly. "This is another hunter team we're talking about. A well-known one. They can't die and the Bureau expect to keep that covered up. Everyone is going to know eventually, I just want to know now."
Hwichan nods, like he's warming to the idea. "As long as we're careful," he reasons. "I don't see how this is a bad plan. None of us have to get the full story, right? We just have to find what we can, then piece it together later."
“Exactly," Jinwoo agrees, almost sending his tray flying as he jumps to his feet. "I'm sure we can all find something.”
Nodding along, Junghoon makes a point of straightening, his eyes clearing as he does so. “As long as we don’t ask the same person twice, no one is going to raise an eyebrow at a question here or there.”
Finally, Hyuk caves. "I guess I do want to know what happened..."
Realizing he’s the only one left, Kevin casts them all one last pleading look. When all he’s met with is Jaehan’s silent request for support and Hyuk’s puppy-dog stare, he sighs dramatically and slouches on his bench. “Fine, I'll ask around. They probably won't be as suspicious of me as they will be of the rest of you."
It’s agreed, after certain amount of furtive discussing and planning, that they're all going to go out and gather what information is readily available to them, meet back up later, and share what they found. Considering none of them have the proper clearance to just go and find the information straight out, this seems like the most logical course of action. This way, if any of them get caught, they won’t have enough questionable information to get in trouble.
Surprisingly- or perhaps not as shockingly as Jaehan thinks- they all seem to turn to him for leadership. Maybe because it was his idea. Maybe because he's the most persistent about saying they need to know. Whatever the reason, he accepts it and moves on. It makes it easier if they're willing to be organized, he’s not going to argue
The rest of the day is spent investigating on his own, doing his best not to act as suspicious as he feels. Jaehan doesn't get much information from asking around, but he snoops where he can, and wanders into a couple of the archive rooms that he probably shouldn't have access to.
He doesn't. Swiping key-cards in this place isn’t nearly difficult enough.
It hasn’t been long enough since the incident in question, apparently, for any real records to have been kept. But somewhere in the third dusty archive he’s dug through, he finds something interesting about the last known job Jonghyeon's team took.
They were sent to investigate something near the ancient dead zone of the Autumn Court. The details are horribly vague, he can't imagine how he’d feel if this was his full-time job and he was expected to piece something meaningful together out of what’s here, but it's what he's able to dig up.
Even just this much is telling. The job they took is labeled as an A-class threat. Probably not because whatever they were investigating was particularly dangerous. No, he expects the assigned threat level is because it was on the border of this dead zone.
There are four notable fae dead zones he knows about. That much is basic knowledge fed to him in his days at the Academy. Hell, he’d go out on a limb and say almost everyone knows about them. One for each season, one for each queen.
It's entirely unclear if the queens actually exist. Rumors of creatures powerful enough to be an archfae circulate every now and then, and the fae that still revere the queens will swear by their existence to the bitter end, but it's rare anyone has any credible evidence. If they did exist, it was long ago, and they're either dormant or dead. That being said, Jaehan would bet they have descendants, and those are undoubtedly still alive and strong.
Going near the dead zone of the Autumn Court sounds like suicide. As much as he hates to say it, he’s starting to find the idea the fae team died entirely believable.
But he holds out on passing judgment until he's talked to the rest of his… Well, his team.
Jaehan has been trying his best not to call it that, even though he’s slipped up a few times. He doesn't wanna give himself any delusions, or instill in anyone any false hope. Above all, he doesn't want to make himself miserable when it's all over. But some words just fit. And that's what it feels like, a team.
He's become incredibly attached to every single one of them, all in different ways. Whether it be Hwichan’s unflinching kindness, or Junghoon’s sharp sense of humor. He’s fond of Yechan’s softer side, and Hyuk’s unshakable loyalty. Jaehan knows he’s eternally grateful for Kevin’s level head.
He’s attached to how real Jinwoo’s smiles have become, the longer he knows the man.
Granted, Jaehan would probably panic if they were actually his team. If the Bureau made them official the next day, not only would he be wildly unprepared, but it would, to his knowledge, be one of the largest teams in existence. Most of them are hunters, after all, and typically even the bigger teams only have a maximum of four hunters. But them sticking together is a nice thought. So he keeps thinking it.
It can’t hurt anyone if he keeps it in there.
Eventually, they all reconvene in their little common room sometime around eight in the evening. Hwichan’s acquired new, mystery blankets, Yechan has managed to find a radiator to stick on their empty hearth, and Jinwoo has several bags worth of snacks. Jaehan has no idea where they got any of it. That being said, he doesn’t think to ask this potentially important question until he’s already settled in with a blanket around his shoulders and a bag of chips in his lap.
Despite how serious the situation is, they're treating it a bit like it's a happy family event, and he can't really blame them. He's been on the verge of depression all day, he could use a little family bonding time.
Hwichan settles down against one of his shoulders and leaves a quiet hand on his thigh. Jaehan welcomes the grounding energy the touch carries with it and doesn’t argue.
The moment everyone is settled down, he decidedly starts going around the room, finding out what everybody has managed to uncover. He’s a little worried the mission wouldn’t turn up much, considering how hard it was for him to find anything, but those worries turn out to be unfounded. Thankfully.
Everybody's got a little something. Nobody has the full story, just as he anticipated, but everybody has a few crumbs, and wouldn't you know it, they've all managed to find different bits. Really, this plan couldn't have gone better. He’s almost impressed with himself.
Junghoon didn't manage to find much more than he already had, but he did discover that it's been exactly two weeks and three days since the old fae team has first been pronounced MIA, and a full month since they stopped sending back reports. Jinwoo meanwhile, had the same thought that Jaehan did and went digging through the archives. He found some curious reports of the autumn queen’s handmaidens being spotted near a town that bordered the dead zone. Apparently, that's why Jonghyeon's team was dispatched in the first place.
“Which was weird because they don’t usually leave their dead zone,” Jinwoo insists from his spot on the floor between Jaehan’s legs. “But I guess it's better to send someone than risk an international incident.”
“We’re definitely not doubting the legitimacy of the job,” Junghoon mumbles from the armchair. His head lolls back over one arm, his eyes are distant. “I’m doubting the legitimacy of everything else.”
Void knows Jaehan can’t agree with that sentiment more.
Hwichan, in his careful digging, managed to discover how much of an effort the Bureau has put into finding the bodies. The answer is absolutely none. In fact, none would probably be better. What they’re actually facing is a direct order from regrettably far up in the command chain that anyone who goes looking will be court-martialed.
“If I were a conspiracy theory type…” Junghoon begins bitterly before shaking his head. “Y’know, fuck it, maybe I am. Do you think they were trying to get rid of them on purpose?”
A hush falls over the room.
“They… They wouldn’t do that, right?” Hyuk’s wide eyes flick from Kevin, to Jaehan, then back to Junghoon. “Jonghyeon-ssi was a good hunter. He- his team followed the rules. The Bureau wouldn’t…”
Jaehan holds out a hand. “We don’t have any proof of that.” Maybe, under different circumstances, he’d wonder the same thing. And the attempts to keep anyone from learning the truth certainly aren't helping the Bureau’s case, but while he knows there’s been foul play, he doesn’t think it’s that foul. “The job was real. We all know how dangerous the fae dead zones are.”
“It doesn’t look good,” Hwichan agrees, curling closer to Jaehan. “But the only reason it’s suspicious is because they’re keeping quiet.”
Staring at him for a long moment, Junghoon finally sighs and goes back to hanging off his armchair. “If you say so, hyung.”
As they continue to go around the room, Kevin, he has some very interesting news as well.
"They're missing," he states, with utter certainty. "According to the official report, they haven’t actually been pronounced dead. There weren’t any bodies, so there's no proof that they were killed. They're just… Gone."
“So they’re sending people in to look for them, right?” Jinwoo’s fingers dig into Jaehan’s knee as he asks the question. Like if he holds on tight enough, it’ll all make sense. “That’s why they’re keeping it confidential, so that no one gets in the way, right?”
Kevin exchanges a nervous look with Hwichan before dipping his chin. “Ah- no. I couldn’t find anything about rescue efforts.”
“But that doesn’t mean they aren’t happening,” Jinwoo tries, turning to look at Jaehan with those wild eyes. “They have to.”
“If they’ve decided they’re a lost cause, then no, they don’t have to do anything.” Hwichan’s voice is soft. The hand he places on Jinwoo’s shoulder is gentle. “As long as they can make the argument that going after them is going to cause more problems than it solves, then protocol probably dictates they do nothing.”
Despite knowing it to be true, hearing it out loud takes the wind out of everybody’s sails.
It's a grim tale they put together. Though admittedly, not an uncommon one. Hunters turn up dead or go missing all the time, but you naturally assume that the Bureau is going to do something about it. That's their job, right? The NHII doesn't just let their hunters go missing, the concept is unthinkable. It's why there's an organization built around the concept in the first place.
But… At this point, they all know better. They've been here in a Bureau-run facility long enough to see the inner workings, to know how little individual hunters actually matter in the grand scheme of things.
So what if four people have gone missing. So what if they’re some of the best hunters on the field right now. They’re replaceable. Maybe not easily in this case, but it can be done. And considering they’re dealing with fae here, plucking a few fresh hunters out of the Academy is probably a walk in the park compared to doing the ‘right’ thing and finding the people they’ve lost.
Jaehan desperately wants to pretend he’s shocked by any of this, but he’s not. Honestly, the most unbelievable part is that Jonghyeon let himself get caught off guard like this. Even though he’s still- or was still- active duty, his name is legendary. It’s difficult to believe someone like that couldn’t find a way out and at least send a call for help.
Difficult, but not impossible.
Yechan gives his news last, and he does so furtively, like he knows without being told it won't be well received. "I’m pretty sure you’ve all figured this out already, but… They don't plan on ever telling anybody what happened. They're going to try to keep this under wraps for as long as possible."
At once, the room erupts in a burst of noise. Quiet? Confidential? That's one of the oldest groups currently employed by the Bureau. One of the most well respected. You can't just keep their disappearance and possible death a secret. People need to know. Their families if they have any. What about their friends? The wider hunter community? And if you want less sentimental reasons to release the information, what about all of the groups that relied upon those four. Who are they supposed to call now if they’re dealing with a fae related problem?
"This is bullshit," Jinwoo announces, standing up and letting the blankets piled around him fall away. "This is absolute bullshit, they can't just do that, can they?"
Rubbing his knuckles against each other, Kevin mutters, "Well, it's the Bureau. Who's going to tell them no?”
"Someone?" Jinwoo snaps, his eyes wild. "There are people missing, probably dead. You can't just- there's no way they should be able to just sweep that under a rug." Doing a full revolution, looking at each of them as he does, the man insists, “This isn't normal.”
“Are you sure?” Slowly, Junghoon straightens and looks up at Jinwoo. "I mean, how do we know they don't usually do this? Hunters go missing all the time, and we just kind of accept that. How often do you think the Bureau actually knows what happens to them, and just doesn't tell us?"
Sagging slightly, Jinwoo stares at Junghoon in muted horror, like it's only now registering what the man’s words mean. "Oh void," he mumbles, his eyes unfocusing as he sags where he stands. "That’s what they did to us. I was swept under the rug, wasn’t I?”
“Join the fucking club,” Junghoon announces, spreading his hands wide. “Because I can guarantee no one gave a shit when Hyuk and I went missing.”
From his corner of the couch, Hyuk lets out a whimper and lurches to his feet. Mumbling something incoherent Jaehan can’t make out, he takes a step backwards before stumbling away down the little hall towards his room.
As Hwichan reaches for Jinwoo, he makes eye-contact with Jaehan and says very clearly with them what Jaehan is already thinking. He's on his feet and heading after Hyuk even before Kevin is, though he lets the therapist pull ahead of him slightly. This isn't how he wanted this to go, but he supposes it's impossible to predict this sort of thing.
Even so, he probably should have known that whatever they dug up wouldn't be good.
When they step into the room at the end of the hall, Hyuk is hiding under his covers. Well, maybe hiding isn't the right word. He's got them drawn up over his head, but he's just staring at the wall blankly. His face is a mask of distress, his ears are flat against his head.
"Hyuk," Jaehan tries, only for the canid to cut him off.
"I don't want to be here anymore, hyung." Jaehan can't decide if Hyuk is on the verge of tears, anger, or panic. “I– I want out. I want to be somewhere else. I don't- I don't want to work for the Bureau anymore."
Letting out a soft, fretful sound under his breath, Kevin quickly darts forward to Hyuk side. "I know," he murmurs, peeling back the blankets so he can run his fingers through the soft fur around Hyuk’s floppy ears. "I know you don't want to be here anymore, it's awful, they've kept you cooped up for so long. I’m sorry."
"No," Hyuk mumbles, trying and failing to get away from Kevin's hands. “I mean I don't want to be here at all. They don't care about us, they don't even pretend to." His whole body is quivering, Jaehan can see it even from the doorway. "They've got me here because I’m- I'm too messed up to go back, but do they even care about that? Or is there some other reason they're just not telling me? If I don’t matter then just let me leave.”
As Kevin crawls onto the bed and wraps his arms around the bundle of blankets that is Hyuk, Jaehan steps fully into the room and close the door. "We care about you." He knows that's hollow comfort, but he tries anyway. "If it were up to me, the only reason you wouldn’t be back on the field is because you're not ready. Not because of anything else."
"But it's not up to you, is it?" Hyuk's voice is just a little horse, the misery in it straining his vocal cords. "It's not up to any of us. It's not even up to me. I just… They do what they want with us, it doesn't matter what we want. When we die, no one's going to remember us, because the Bureau doesn’t want anyone to."
Usually, Jaehan would argue with that, but after the news about Jonghyeon's team, it's difficult. Because he's got a point, just like Jinwoo did. Because they could just as easily be in the same position. If something bad had happened to any one of them, the Bureau might have just covered it up, without a second thought. Because they can do that, and there's nothing any individual hunter can do to stop them.
"I know this isn't what you want to hear," Kevin murmurs, pressing Hyuk’s face into his shoulder. "But if you left, I'd miss you. You're special to me, I don't want you to leave."
Whimpering under his breath, Hyuk rocks forward into Kevin's hold. "No… I– I don't want to leave you either. I just– I don't want to work for them. I don't want to work for the Bureau, I don't want to die and have it be covered up. I don't want to be stuck in this building anymore."
"And you won't be forever," Kevin insists, dragging his fingers through Hyuk's hair. "I promise, we're going to eventually get you out of here. Then you'll have a team that cares about you, and you'll have a hunter who looks after you. And the Bureau can fuck right off."
"I thought you worked here," Hyuk mumbles into Kevin shirt, his voice just a little damp around the edges. "Aren’t you going to… get in trouble for saying something like that?"
Though it feels distinctly like he's invading a private moment, Jaehan still speaks up. "Some things are more important than a job."
Nodding firmly, Kevin presses his lips to the top of Hyuk’s head. "You're more important to me than this job. If I could, I'd keep you with me forever, Bureau be damned."
Looking up slightly, Hyuk's bottom lip trembles as he meets Kevin's eyes. "Whatever happened to what you were saying about– about patient and doctor…" His ears twitch as he tries to remember the words. "About keeping them separate?"
"It's you," Kevin breathes. "Fuck professional distance."
When Kevin kisses Hyuk, Jaehan has the courtesy to look away. He's known something was going on between the two of them for a while now and he's glad he was right. For both of their sakes. Hyuk looks at Kevin like he hangs the stars in the sky. Kevin looks at Hyuk with such an unbearable fondness that it's difficult to comprehend at times. As he stands there, examining the shadows on the wall, Jaehan thinks of Jinwoo and Hwichan and possibly of his old partner, and lets them have their moment.
Eventually, Hyuk calms down. It takes a while, or at least it feels like it does, but eventually his breathing levels out, and he just allows Kevin to pet him reassuringly. While he feels like he hasn’t done much, Jaehan sticks around. He may not be a therapist like Kevin, or… immediately involved like Kevin, but he feels the need to be there. Like some sort of overarching moral support.
He can't really explain it, so he doesn't try. He'll think about it later.
Sniffling, pawing at the corners of his eyes, Hyuk dolefully gazes up at Jaehan and mumbles, “So… what do we do?"
It's a woefully open ended question, but Jaehan gets it regardless. He's wondering the same thing. What do they do?
The fae team is gone, and to his knowledge, they’re the only hunters who know.
They've gone to all this trouble to uncover this terrible piece of knowledge, but never once thought about what to do with it once they had it. And now Jaehan is staring down the consequences of his decision. It’s not even the immediate material ones he’s worried about, no, these consequences are purely psychological.
Already, it's giving Jaehan a headache, but–
"At least we’ll remember them."
Humming in agreement, Kevin shifts his hold on Hyuk. "I think we should probably tell someone. Maybe… multiple someones. Do we know anyone they were close friends with?"
Jaehan doesn't, but he can guess, and he imagines the information won’t be too hard to find. "I guess that's our next step," he decides, pursing his lips together. "We try to let other hunters know. Figure out who to tell, so they can tell other people too."
Grim prospect though it is, it brings some measure of peace to the room. Jaehan can see the way it settles Hyuk, and he also can see Kevin's little smile, like he needed to be told his idea was a good one. He's not sure why his validation would mean more than anyone else's, but he takes it in stride.
"Do they…" Swallowing, Hyuk tries to straighten his shoulders, shrugging off his bed covers as he does. "Does the Bureau really not care about us."
Conflicted, Jaehan doesn't answer for a long moment. He wants to say yes, they do care, but he knows it's a lie. Obviously they don't, if they did, their little group wouldn't be here. At least not like this. And really, he doesn't think that Hyuk will believe him even if he does try to lie. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to. Being here at the Bureau has made Jaehan tired of a lot of things, and the constant lies and manipulation is one of them.
So instead of bothering, he squares his shoulders and bluntly states, "No. They don't care about us."
Almost at once, Hyuk starts to curl in on himself again, so Jaehan follows it up with, "But I do. And everyone out there cares about you. And your team cared about you. The Bureau… Well, they matter, but they don't matter as much as they want us to think they do."
"Aren’t they the ones employing us." Looking up at him with huge, slightly glassy eyes, Hyuk’s ears flatten. "If they don't care about us, then whenever we do work for them, we’ll be in danger. More danger than we’re already are in. Because there's no one who’ll have our backs."
"If I were your leader, I'd have your back." It might be the dumbest thing Jaehan could've possibly said, but he says it with utter confidence. Because he's tired of sounding like he's helpless. Sure, he might not be able to do much, but he's not going to let that stop him. "If you were on my team, I'd put your safety over anything else. Over any job. And if something happened to you, I wouldn’t let the Bureau make it disappear."
Hyuk’s tail wags once. Jaehan can't decide if it's a sad thump, or a hopeful one.
"But… you're not our team leader.” Desperation bleeds out around the edges of Kevin’s words. Not like he's trying to discredit what Jaehan is saying, but almost like he's realizing how hopeless the situation really is. "They decide that. And we aren't even–"
"I know.” Cutting Kevin off, Jaehan holds out a hand.. "But… whoever they do assign you to, Hyuk, I'm going to make sure they treat you right too. I’m basically old at this point, I’m sure I can get a bunch of younger hunters to listen to me. Whichever ones you end up with. If I can't do that much, then what am I good for?"
Brightening a little more, Hyuk's tail thumps against the bed several times. "I think you'd make a great leader, hyung. I'd like it if you led my team someday."
Decidedly, Jaehan says, "If they ever do make me a leader, then I'll make sure you're on my team. I’ll do everything in my power to stop them from taking you away from me."
Logically, Jaehan knows it's an impossible promise. Hell, Hyuk probably knows as well. But that doesn't stop him from saying it, and it certainly doesn’t stop it from lightening the mood of the room.
"Thanks, hyung.” Hyuk shuffles his knees for a moment before managing a grin full of large canines and abnormally straight front teeth. "I know you would."
He's somewhat glad that it's just the three of them in the room, because Jaehan feels like he’s starting to make promises that he probably won’t be able to keep. More than usual he usually does. It’s just that he’s helplessly attached to these boys, his own little group that isn’t even a group. Friends, and maybe something more. He doesn't want to let them down, because someone has to look out for them.
Right now, that person needs to be him. As stupid as that sounds.
Because void knows no one else is going to.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
The day Jaehan meets Yeonsik, he actually thinks he’s finally gotten into trouble.
Regrettably, now would be the time for it to happen. After the whole incident involving Jonghyeon’s team, Jaehan’s been doing his best to get the information out and let people know what’s happened. He swears he’s talked to more hunters in the past two weeks than he ever has before. With Junghoon and Hwichan’s help, he’s compiled the closest thing he can to physical evidence, and that’s what he’s been sharing around. Anything to let people know, even if it ends up coming down on his head.
Because it will be him who gets blamed for this. Jaehan has made sure of that.
He’s insisted the rest of them keep their heads down, in every aspect that isn’t this. He hasn’t been letting Jinwoo snoop around, and he practically begged the rest of them to, for just a little while at least, keep to themselves. Not necessarily because he’s worried, but… alright yeah, it’s because Jaehan’s worried. While he adores every one of the other men, he’s also discovering they all have a certain penchant for trouble and he can’t have that right now.
Obviously, they put together something they shouldn’t have, and even if the information comes out later, there’s still the reality hanging over their heads that they went digging where they shouldn’t. Jaehan doesn’t regret it, per se, but he is aware of the risk it was. While he’s entirely prepared to pay the piper, if that’s what it comes down to, he’s not actively seeking it out.
When the little blue half sheet of paper appears under his door in the middle of the night, Jaehan can only assume it’s because he’s finally been caught.
As with most official Bureau memos, there are no extraneous details on the slip. Just a room number, a time, and his name. Beyond that, the summons could be for practically anything.
Of course they aren’t, because what else has he done recently to warrant getting called away. It’s not what his previous summons to take a test have looked like, and he feels like if this were him getting reassigned, they’d manage a full sheet of paper. This looks suspiciously like he’s in trouble, and already he can feel the dread building up in his chest.
When he glances over it, Hwichan assures Jaehan that the room number is from somewhere down by the medical wing of the facility. With only one short elevator ride to worry about. Jinwoo just stirs in bed and pulls his head out from under the covers to mutter, "That’s what they want you to think."
Regardless of what he’s getting himself into, Jaehan still goes. If the Bureau wants him, they will find him. Hiding in his room like a coward isn’t going to change anything. Besides, if he shows up punctually and faces whatever they’re about to throw at him, maybe the punishment won’t be nearly as bad.
He had a good reason for digging for that information. Surely, if the paper pusher he faces is reasonable, they’ll be willing to take that into account.
So he goes, with thoughts of doom and gloom circling within his head. Down twenty minutes worth of hallways and a creaking elevator that threatens to drop out from underneath him. Right to the sterile hallways of the medical wards and through the door notated on his summons.
Hilariously, all he gets for his stressing is a yearly check-up.
"But… I had a physical when I arrived here." Jaehan is still processing the fact that he’s not, in fact, about to get his ass handed to him. "It hasn’t been a year. I’ve kept track."
The nurse that’s currently drawing his blood just blinks at him for a handful of seconds before chirping, "I’m just going based off of what’s on file. If you have any further questions, I’m afraid you’ll have to take it up with the doctor when she gets back."
Maybe, given any other circumstance, he would’ve argued. But considering how much less severe this is than what he expected, Jaehan decidedly doesn’t. If he keeps asking questions, they might start asking questions of their own, and that’s the last thing he wants. He can stand to get poked and prodded for a few hours, it won’t kill him.
When looked at from a bird’s eye view, Jaehan decides that this is the strangest possible method by which he could be reminded the Bureau hasn’t forgotten him. For the most part, after all, he’s been completely left to his own devices. Him and the people he spends time with. If you told Jaehan the Bureau had just lost his file, and the only ones who still gave a damn were his two regular test proctors, he might’ve believed you.
This is proof otherwise.
As long as they’ve left him alone to learn about demons and blood magic and not do much else, the Bureau still cares enough to make him take his mandatory physical. He doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
It’s down here, surrounded by other hunters in for their check-ups, a few paper pushers getting blood-work done, and a full contingent of hospital staff that Jaehan first meets Yeonsik.
He’s not a hunter. Actually, at first glance, Jaehan would hesitate to say he’s even old enough to be here. The kid looks… Well, he looks just like that. A kid. Like he still hasn’t fully grown into all of his limbs, and like he doesn’t exactly know where he is or what he’s doing. Sure he interacts with the doctors like he’s been here a thousand times before, but there’s still something hesitant about his behavior that has Jaehan pegging him as someone hilariously out of his depth.
He happens to be getting blood drawn in the same room that Jaehan is. Unlike Jaehan, however, who probably gets a couple tiny vials worth drawn before being given permission to leave, Yeonsik is having an entire array of things drawn out of him. Jaehan counts at least three places they’ve stuck him with different needles. Not all of the substances in the vials they’re carrying away looks like blood.
Through all of it, Yeonsik looks entirely resigned to his fate. As only someone who’s been through this song and dance before can be.
"That’s… a lot of blood." Though it’s really not his place to do so, Jaehan can’t help but comment. "Everything alright?"
"Oh, they do this every few months," the younger man reveals, letting out a little laugh that isn’t nearly as nervous as it probably should be. "I think I’m used to it by now."
Settling into one of the free chairs nearby, Jaehan gets a better look at the dark, murky substance inside one of the vials that’s been left behind and purses his lips. "You’re not dying, are you?"
That gets him a full throated laugh from the kid, one that nearly upsets the nurse trying to swab at the inside of his other elbow. "Not in the traditional sense. But I guess I’m still death adjacent."
He doesn’t intend to, but Jaehan ends up striking up a conversation with Yeonsik anyway. He learns the man’s name- Choi Yeonsik- his age- a fair bit older than he looks- and gets a vague idea where he’s from- everywhere, but also nowhere. In return, Jaehan gives an abridged summary of his own story. His work as a hunter, and his current position wandering around the Bureau’s facility while tackling his continuing education.
Apparently, Yeonsik is currently attending the Academy. He feels the need to specify that he hasn’t been there long, but Jaehan could’ve told him that just from looking at him. Naturally, he doesn’t say it out loud, he understands what it’s like to be in that weird position of wanting to grow up and not quite being there yet, but he can recognize a new recruit from a mile away. Among other things, it’s interesting to hear tales from a place that he personally left behind many years ago.
Yeonsik fills him in on the instructors and staff that are still there. Jaehan’s favorite elemental magic teacher, for instance, is still happily teaching, as though the years haven’t even begun to affect her. That broken window up in the north wing on the fifth floor still hasn’t been fixed, and apparently there are two new gryphon chicks that are being raised in the stables. Hearing about it all, Jaehan feels a deep sense of nostalgia, and he welcomes it.
Since being assigned to a team, Jaehan hasn’t found occasion to deal with the newer generation of hunters. Maybe it’s a little presumptuous to refer to them as such, but at this point, it certainly feels like it. The people Yeonsik is going to school with are people Jaehan has never met. There are fundamental changes the curriculum that have happened even since he graduated, and there are things that Yeonsik says that feel deeply disjointed from his own recollections of the place.
At the same time, there’s a lot that’s similar, if not downright identical. Yeonsik still gets hounded over the same nonsensical rules, and still trains in the same weapon yards. It’s kind of nice to know that however much things have changed, there’s still some pieces that are fundamentally the same.
"So, why’re you making the trip all the way out here?" The two of them have long since left the blood lab. Apparently, Yeonsik’s ride back to the Academy isn’t going to be leaving until later that evening, so Jaehan has no problem with taking up his time. "I’m pretty sure the doctors back at the Academy are just as good as any we’ve got in the basement."
"Technically, yeah, but the Bureau and the Academy don’t share all the same record database. Not entirely." Waving a hand, his tone that of someone who knows just enough to be able to vaguely confuse everyone else, Yeonsik continues, "Medical records are all internal. Everything they collect from these tests count as medical records, therefore, instead of having to put in requests for the confidential information every time, they just bring me here. Apparently it’s easier."
"Sure, but, what are you here for?" Jaehan laughs slightly at Yeonsik’s unintentional dodging of the question he’d intended to ask. "Like, what ailment is so serious and requires so much constant testing that they’d book you flights all the way out here?"
Abashed, Yeonsik ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck. "Oh, yeah, I’ve got this little…" Sheepishly, he mumbles, "I’m kind of infected by Chaos?"
If he’s expecting Jaehan to react, he’s sorely disappointed. Considering some of the stories he’s heard here, some of the people he’s met, this doesn’t sound all that terrifying. Sure, Jaehan knows how dangerous Chaos supposedly is. He took a basic statistics class in the Academy just like everyone else. But Yeonsik looks fairly normal. He’s not horrifically mutated, he hasn’t sprouted any extra eyes, he’s not leaking toxic gas.
Barring those evidently dangerous side effects, the revelation certainly isn’t cause for the concerned look on Yeonsik’s face, like he’s expecting Jaehan to recoil in fear.
"Okay, that’s…" Jaehan’s nose wrinkles. "Different? Is it painful?"
Blinking, Yeonsik lets out a breath before tipping his head back-and-forth. "Sometimes? Well- usually it’s painful. You get used to it eventually." Expression lightning somewhat, like he’s relieved he’s not being judged unnecessarily, the man continues, "I guess infected is probably the wrong word? It’s not like I can spread it. They typically use ‘corrupted’ on all of the paperwork, but I tend to think of it as a minor possession."
That, at least, is something Jaehan understands, even if it probably isn’t entirely accurate. "Possession, huh? So you’ve got something else in there with you." That would explain the blood vials, and the weird, distinctly non-blood substance that had swirled around in several of them.
"Just the magic, this point." Stretching out a hand, Yeonsik pulls a face and manages to summon a thin, spidery chain. Gently, it crawls between his thumb and forefinger before sinking into the palm of his hand, physically at first, leaving a small puncture mark, before dissolving back into metallic sparks. Wincing, the man gives his arm a shake before quickly stuffing the hand into his pocket. "It’s a little rough around the edges."
"That’s one way to put it," Jaehan mutters, suddenly feeling a lot better about the bruises he used to get when first learning elemental magic. There have been times where the process was unpleasant, but at least summoning his magic has never drawn blood.
"It’s a work in progress, but eventually I’ll have a handle on it." Rolling his shoulders, Yeonsik smiles. "Magic. What can you do."
Jaehan has several issues with that statement, but he focuses on the part he can agree with. Whatever it was, that chain definitely looked like magic. Unlike anything he’s seen in person, sure, but he’s certain he’s come across diagrams in a textbook somewhere. It’s a far cry from being up close and personal with it, but other than the blood seeping through a spot on Yeonsik’s pants, he seems okay.
"It’s neat," he decides, at last. Somehow, the word feels inadequate, so he summons up something more. "I mean, I think it’s neat. If it’s always painful like that, it probably isn’t that cool, but-"
Yeonsik waves his uninjured hand quickly, cutting Jaehan’s concern short. "No, it’s fine. I’m used to it at this point." Pulling his other hand out of his pocket, he prods at the fresh injury, which is already starting to clot up. "Taeyeon-noona said it’ll get easier with practice, but that’s like… most things. I’m just glad it’s not as bad as it used to be."
Jaehan can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that particular name. "You don’t mean Taeyeon as in ‘Kim Taeyeon, the retired hunter’, right?"
Blinking, Yeonsik thinks about it for a moment before saying, "Oh, right, you’d know her from the hunter community, wouldn’t you?" When Jaehan just stares at him, he finally gives an affirmative nod. "Yeah, like that Taeyeon-noona. She’s… Her team and I– it’s complicated."
Considering the fact that particular retired team used to be world renowned, Jaehan can only imagine how complicated it must be. Though, once he thinks about it for longer than a few seconds, it occurs to him that Taeyeon and her team had once been the Chaos specialists. If Yeonsik is possessed by Chaos…
Quickly, the pieces start to fall into place.
"They had something to do with you being possessed."
Vehemently, Yeonsik shakes his head. "Not involved, just there. They were the ones who rescued me. After-" Stopping abruptly, he looks away and rubs at the back of his neck, leaving a smear of blood behind. Feeling slightly guilty for bringing up what are probably bad memories, Jaehan tentatively reaches out before giving the man a pat on the back.
"Don’t worry about it, I get the picture." Gratefully, Yeonsik smiles, and lets the end of that particular sentence go unsaid. Like so many other sordid stories you come across in this line of work, the imagination does well enough at filling in the blanks for them all.
By the time Jaehan is helping Yeonsik scrounge up lunch, the conversation has long since moved on to other things. Namely, how Jaehan ended up where he is, considering how rare it is for someone who’s already done time on the field to be sequestered away like this.
"Supposedly, they couldn’t think of anywhere better to put me." Giving the younger man a wry smile, Jaehan blithely says, "You know, they almost sent me back to the Academy. So it looks like us running into each other was just meant to happen."
Eyebrows twitching with amusement, Yeonsik chuckles. "Are you sure, that school is massive."
"This place is huge," Jaehan points out, giving an easy shrug. Though it doesn’t form into a coherent sentence, he’s taken back to something that Jinwoo often says. Things like this happen by fate. Usually, Jinwoo is talking about the bigger things, the more important happenings that fundamentally shape their lives. Jaehan is starting to wonder if such a concept can also be applied to smaller things as well.
Shrugging, Yeonsik dips his head and pokes at the nutrient rich meal that’s in front of him. "You got me there. I just– I don’t really meet anyone. They’re always separating me from everyone else. I don’t know if they mean to, it’s just because what I’m learning is so specialized, but it’s still…" Expression momentarily falling, his eyes abruptly widen as he lets out another one of those laughs. The one Jaehan suspects is covering up more than a few negative emotions. "I thought being put in the officers Academy would be exclusive enough, but I guess it can always get worse."
Wryly, Jaehan chuckles. "Trust me, it can always get worse. You could be stuck here like me. I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.”
“It’s not so bad.” Looking around, the corners of Yeonsik’s mouth twitch before he quickly glances back at Jaehan, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. "Actually, I spent a couple years in a facility when I was growing up. Before they let me leave and go home– Er, home adjacent. As home as I was going to get." He pauses, like he’s not sure if he should continue.
But Jaehan is curious, so he prods. "What was it like for you?"
"Weird." Briefly, Yeonsik gives a slight smile. "I was the only kid in that building. The guys in the lab, they tried to mimic normal things for me, on the good days. But I’d had at least a couple years of childhood that were normal, so it never really landed. It didn’t help that half the time they could only remember my case number and not my name."
As he thinks about it longer, Jaehan can see the fondness in his eyes. “It was strange, because some parts of my life were completely micromanaged, and then they’d just leave me alone for days at a time. I used to frequently get lost looking for the cafeteria. Which you’d think I’d figure out, right? But they kept moving where I was sleeping, so it was never in the same place.”
The incongruity in his statements is immediately apparent. “That… sounds awful,” Jaehan decides aloud.
"But it wasn’t? Definitely weird, and I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody who had a better alternative, but I guess I didn’t mind it." Gaze growing distant, Yeonsik seems to drift off into his own memories. "Not everyone was as bad as they seemed. Some of them actually cared. And Taeyeon-noona would send me care packages, and Soonkyu-noona would visit with her partner whenever they weren’t working. They promised they’d get me out of there eventually. Having that to look forward to made it easier, I guess."
Jaehan doesn’t have anything waiting for him once he gets out, but instinctively, he thinks of the other guys back in their makeshift dorms. They make things easier, especially on the days this place threatens to crush him. Without them, he doesn’t think he’d have made it this far.
They’re his.
Hold on, they’re not yours. Fine, so maybe not his boys, or even really his team. But at the very least they’re his friends. He really shouldn’t think of them so possessively, but it’s difficult. He’s slept with two of them, he’s furiously protective over the rest. At this point, referring to them as just a collection of hunters and non-humans he knows feels disingenuous.
"Bad or not, I still want to get back out on the field eventually." While his own meal looks as unappetizing as always, Jaehan takes a bite and tries to ignore the weird texture that he’s almost grown accustomed to. “Staying cooped up here is bad for me, I think."
Though in Jaehan’s mind, the statement is self-evident, Yeonsik is looking at him like it’s something he’s never considered until just now. "I’ve been cooped up my whole life. I’m not sure what I’m going to do once they actually let me out on the field. Whether I get my own team or end up on someone else’s."
"How does that whole process work?" Leaning back on his bench, hooking his heels around one of the supports, Jaehan hikes up an eyebrow. "I never went to the officer’s side of the Academy. Apparently I didn’t meet the right metrics."
Guiltily, Yeonsik admits, "I’m not sure I met those metrics either. Obviously I’d like to think I did, but Hyoyeon-noona was the one who came with me when I originally applied, and you know how scary araneae can be. And then there’s her reputation- all of their reputations…" Furrowing his brows, Yeonsik tries to hide the way his face flushes with shame. "Sometimes I think it was nepotism."
Shrewdly, Jaehan gives the younger man a once over. He’s unassuming on the outside, with a build typical of a hunter in training, and the calluses of frequent magic use, but knowing even just the little bit he’s already found out, he suspects that the Academy’s decision to put Yeonsik where they did was one based on merit.
He may still be young, but he talks with the confidence of a leader. Even when he’s being awkward, it still shines through. There’s strength in his eyes, and an assuredness to his movements that comes only through hardship and experience. Granted, he may have never lead a group of people before, but in Jaehan’s layman opinion, he looks capable.
"I think you can handle it." Attempting to inject a little bit of conviction into his own voice, Jaehan gives Yeonsik a warm smile. “I can’t imagine it’ll be easy, but a lot of things that are worth it aren’t. Besides, I doubt the Bureau would put that kind of responsibility on you if-"
He falters then, as that unflagging belief in those monolithic institutions of power quivers and falls out from underneath him. Because he wants to think the Bureau would make the right call, but what if? What if this is one of those instances where they don’t care enough?
Like he can sense what’s going on in Jaehan’s head, Yeonsik leans forward and carefully prompts, “If…?"
Quickly, Jaehan shakes his head. “It’s not nepotism." It doesn’t answer Yeonsik’s question and it definitely doesn’t get into all of the less than savory realizations Jaehan has had recently about the Bureau, but he figures that’s for the best. This kid, for all the strange things he’s lived through so far, still seems rather hopeful. Properly taken in by the gentle lies that they tell hunters to make things easier for them. If he doesn’t have to, he’d rather not ruin it.
Staring at him with wide eyes for a moment longer, clearly aware there’s something more, but unsure how to pull it out of Jaehan, Yeonsik finally gives in. "For the sake of my sanity, I hope you’re right. They make a big deal about how important a leader is to their team, I’d hate to let anybody down."
Jaehan smiles thinly. "I feel the same way." When Yeonsik blinks at him, he quickly elaborate, "I mean, I don’t have my own team. Not exactly. Not like you will, but… When you get enough people that are looking up to you and expecting direction, you start to feel that pressure anyways." He chuckles. "At least the pressure on me will let up eventually."
"I think it’s only gonna get worse on my end." Tipping his head curiously, Yeonsik asks, "Would you want to be leader? If they offered you the opportunity tomorrow."
Hurriedly, Jaehan waves away the suggestion. "I don’t think I could take it. I feel stressed enough just handling that six I have." Maybe only five, counting Kevin seems potentially incorrect, considering he’s not even a hunter anymore. But at the same time, he swears the therapist sleeps down in their dorms often enough he might as well be just as much a part of things as the rest of them. Especially considering how the situation between him and Hyuk has been developing.
"I mean, that’s team sized. If you’re handling it now, you could probably handle it out on the field." There’s something sweetly naïve about Yeonsik’s words, and Jaehan can’t help but let out a full belly laugh.
"Oh, let me assure you, fieldwork is nothing like this. And it’s also nothing like the field training they’ll give you in the Academy. The craziest thing I’ve had the boys doing is going out and asking some people questions. Once you start bringing in pair dynamics and taking jobs and literally everything else into the equation…" Jaehan shakes his head, the smile still on his face. “It’s a nice thought, but I know my limits."
Looking slightly chagrined, like the reminder he’s still inexperienced smarts, Yeonsik hurries to move the conversation along. “Fine, abilities aside I still think you’ve got the temperament for it. I may not know you very well, but to be fair, you don’t know me very well, and you still think I can do it."
Jaehan opens his mouth to argue, but he pauses a second later, that smile lingering on his face. "I guess you’ve got me there, huh." He thinks he likes this kid. As young as he comes across at times, he seems like he’s got his heart in the right place, and maybe most of his head as well.
That part comes with time though. It’s difficult to know if you’ll have the fortitude for something like this until you’re faced with it.
The conversation moves on from there. It doesn’t get particularly deep, but Jaehan finds himself talking tricks of the trade with the man. Not that he has an abundance of those to share, but he’s got a couple here and there. Judging based on what he knows about the Bureau’s standards, and what they do with people who are capable of what Yeonsik probably will be, given a few years, he imagines the man is going to get stuck into a regional team at the very least.
"Don’t know where, but I can tell you from first hand experience that groups are always being switched around. And there are a lot of regions we need to cover. But I’m sure you’ll do well at something like that." His smile is lopsided. “If I was, you will be too.”
"I kind of wish they’d train me ahead of time for something like that." Gesturing wildly, one hand clamped around his empty tray as he does so, Yeonsik complains, "I mean you’d think they’d want me as prepared as possible for whatever job they’re going to give me, but from what I’ve heard from the other people on the officer’s side of the Academy, it’s just general training and then they throw you where they want you. Where you’re going is a secret until basically the day of.”
Wincing, Jaehan admits, "I mean, it was for me.”
Wilting, Yeonsik ruefully says, “I was worried you’d say that.”
Lifting hands, Jaehan makes an apologetic face. "I don’t want to scare you. The Bureau usually knows what they’re doing when it comes to putting people where they put them." He can’t help but add the ‘usually’ qualifier. Off the top of his head, it had been debatably hit or miss with him, and they haven’t done well with Yechan either. "If the Bureau thinks you belong somewhere, chances are good you do. But I agree, the system feels a little broken sometimes."
"Sometimes." Pulling a face, Yeonsik dips his head, like he’s been caught out. "They haven’t gotten it wrong with me yet. But I think I was used to them micromanaging my life, and now they’re not. They just turned me over to the Academy and said figure it out."
"Just like that,” Jaehan mutters, trying to imagine what it’d be like to not have to figure everything out on his own.
"I mean, I am figuring it out,” Yeonsik hurries to say, waving his hands quickly. He almost sends his food tray into Jaehan’s face in the process. "All things considered, I think I’m doing pretty well. Don’t really have the magic under control yet, but everything else is making enough sense. It’s just I wish I had a more definite goal, you know?"
Thinking of his own time spent stuck here, without word one about what’s coming after, Jaehan can’t help but agree. "The Bureau’s bad about that. They expect you to just trust the grand plan, but I think they forget they’re the only ones who can see the grand plan."
"I don’t even necessarily need to see the whole plan, I just want to know what comes after this. Is there a specific region I should be studying? A series of cities? Hell, I could even extrapolate if they put me into specialization courses. But I’ve been there for a year and a half and I feel like they’re just throwing me at whatever sticks."
"I mean in your case, they might still be trying to find what sticks." As he deposits his tray in the little slot that ferries it away to wherever they’re cleaned, Jaehan points out, "You’re still young. There’s plenty of time for you to find what you’re good at. But I’m not going to pretend like you knowing what you’re good at changes how the Bureau treats you. I’ve been stuck in continuing education for the past six months, and I swear they’re only leaving me here because they haven’t figured out where to put me."
Laughing thinly, Yeonsik mumbles, "Very reassuring, thanks."
"Don’t mention it," Jaehan returns dryly. But he’s got a similar smile to the one on Yeonsik’s face, and he understands the man’s worry. “I guess I always look at it like eventually, they’re going to figure out what they want to do with me. Even though that day might be far in the future, and it may not be what I want to do, at least there’s a plan." The smile grows. "Me getting called in for that physical today is proof they haven’t forgotten about me."
"Doesn’t seem very comforting, but-" Yeonsik doesn’t have to finish the sentence, Jaehan can hear in the man’s tone that the optimism is rubbing off on him.
"Not to sound like an old man, but in this job, you’re going to find that slim comfort is better than no comfort. Take what you can get, because who knows if you’re going to get something better.”
Those words may sound depressing on the face of them, Jaehan’s not entirely convinced they aren’t depressing. But maybe Yeonsik is already understanding what it means to be hunter, because he doesn’t take the words badly. He just nods and slides his own tray in behind Jaehan’s. "I just don’t want to get stuck there forever. The Academy’s nice and all, but sometimes I worry they’re just putting me in gilded cages."
Jaehan jabs Yeonsik in the chest with a finger. "The Bureau is a gilded cage. If you were looking for something with more freedom, you’re in the wrong line of business."
"I mean I don’t exactly have a choice one way or another," Yeonsik reminds him, falling back a little as he does. "But point taken.”
"Considering I’m not allowed to leave for another seven years, ditto." Giving the cafeteria one last look over, Jaehan turns a half smile on Yeonsik. "You know, we probably have some time before you’ve got to get going. You should come back and meet the rest of my boys. I think you’ll like them."
Yeonsik‘s expression softens, and he gives a nod that almost manages to hide the gratefulness in his eyes. "Sure, lead the way."
Jaehan‘s thoughts about the situation don’t percolate immediately, but he finds himself considering, as Jinwoo and Yechan hang off of Yeonsik excitedly, and Junghoon and Kevin curiously poke Yeonsik’s magic, that there’s something distinctly hopeful about the situation. He tells himself that feeling has nothing to do with what’s currently happening. Hunters come and go through the facility all the time, there’s nothing remarkable about it. And Yeonsik isn’t even a hunter.
But maybe that’s the important part. Yeonsik is still learning. The Bureau is still training people who have their head screwed on straight. Who are going to make good hunters in the future, even though recently they’ve lost some of the best. Jaehan might miss the old fae team, conceptually if in no other way, but this gives him confidence that whatever comes next will be good. That the newer teams will be strong enough to handle whatever this wild world throws at them.
Considering how concerned about it he’s been, this reassurance is welcome.
He doesn’t voice it, doesn’t even necessarily think it in as many words. But he still knows. At his core, where those thoughts are most important, he knows.
If nothing else, it’ll be interesting to see where Yeonsik goes. Who knows, maybe one day they’ll work together.
All he has to do is survive this place.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
The Bureau’s idea of food has always been strange to Jaehan.
In theory, it makes sense. Each main Bureau facility is huge, often covering several square miles of ground with just one building. There are entire sub-economies built off of keeping these things operational, which include periphery towns to house employees, as well as meet every one of their everyday needs, preventing them from ever having to leave Bureau-owned land.
Even the facilities themselves are fully outfitted for people never leaving. The offices are kitted out with sun lamps, there’s a commissary within the building that offers everything from toiletries to clothing to an array of unhealthy snacks, and of course there are entire dorms dedicated to long term stays. With all of this in mind, it only logically follows that the place would have a method to feed all the people there, without the need for people going off site.
The Bureau’s solution? Cafeterias. Huge ones, places that put even the most impressive food courts to shame. And in one facility, there could be anywhere from five to ten of the damn things. Because if you were on lunch break, who has the time to walk a mile to the nearest cafeteria as well as walk back?
But it’s here you start to run into an issue. Because these things have to feed hundreds, perhaps even thousands of people. Everyone from paper-pushers to visiting hunters to top officials dropping by to people who literally live there. And with such an array of people, both human and non-human, you ended up needing to cater to an impressively diverse diet.
Obviously there are two solutions to this. One; you can have actual food courts, with enough options to cater to everyone, and let people figure it out from there. Or, you can do what the Bureau did and provide entirely free meals to anyone who happened to want them, with one very important caveat.
There’s only one meal available.
Now, this isn’t exactly accurate. Technically, there are an infinite number of meals available, but the Bureau has the menu in these places set up to provide every possible species with one very specific meal that includes all of the necessary daily vitamins and nutrients for them to function at their best. Sure what they’re serving is vaguely unpleasant slop, shaped in various ways, but it’s made to completely replace a normal diet without detriment to the individual consuming it.
The human meal is absolutely disgusting. Especially after more than a week of eating it.
Obviously, there’s a system in place for people with allergies, and you can get whichever meal you can list the species off for. Hell, if you’re creative, you can even mix meals, but at the end of the day it’s much easier to get something rancid than something actually decent to eat. You have to know exactly what allergies to claim you have, in combination with exactly what species to input into the little electronic kiosks, and honestly who has the time to memorize that shit.
There are some that are at least a little straight forward. The wulfen and felid meals are meat heavy, if that’s what you’re there for, and your typical pixie meal is good if you want something that resembles fresh fruit. Most paper-pushers have little cheat sheets they pass around with tried and true combinations that are actually good to eat. And ultimately, it’s all free so there’s only so much complaining you can actually do.
But after almost seven months of this shit, Jaehan is sick of it.
He can’t even count the number of times he’s had the same meal, three times a day, for days on end. Obviously he’s done some of his own experimenting, along with Jinwoo and Junghoon, in a vague attempt to find something that doesn’t taste like ass, but they usually just end up circling back to the same few things. It’s food, it keeps them moving. They choke it down as many times a day as they can stomach and move on with their lives. Easily, it’s one of the worst parts of living in this facility.
Which is why when Junghoon announced one day that they needed to find some actually decent food Jaehan didn’t bat an eye. Clearly they need something better than this. It’s just a true statement. Even if there’s no way for them to actually acquire said better option, it’s something that needs to be said.
It’s just he probably should have taken Jinwoo at his word when the man looked up, pointed at Junghoon, and promptly said, “Alright, bet.”
As far as Jaehan’s aware, that’s what had spawned this one in the morning raid of the nearest cafeteria kitchen. According to the information Hyuk had managed to scrounge up, last call for food was at eleven-thirty at night, and the cafeteria staff was out by twelve. Which meant there was a period of five precious hours without a single person in the kitchen.
One day, Jaehan had thought the other men were joking. The next, he was being dragged out of bed by Hwichan who insisted that it was time to get up and make food.
Now he’s here, desperately wondering where Jinwoo managed to steal the key-card from.
“Trust me, it’s fine,” Junghoon insists, as he continues flipping on every single light in the large, industrial kitchen. “This is literally the only way we’re going to get normal food, hyung. I think it’s worth missing a little sleep for.”
“I- I’m not worried about the sleep, I’m worried about the fact we’re going to get caught.” Watching with a certain amount of muted horror as Hwichan starts pulling random things out of the nearest freezer, Jaehan lets a small whine out of his nose. “Guys, I- I think maybe we should reconsider.”
“But we’re hungry.” Clambering on top of one of the metal stove tops- thankfully one that’s currently off- Jinwoo announces, “Too long have we been ruled by those kiosks, telling us what we can and can’t eat. Today, we feast like kings.”
“Yeah!” Yechan agrees, holding up what looks like an entire flank’s worth of frozen beef. “Now does anyone know where the potatoes are?”
Casting a small, distressed grimace in Kevin’s direction, Jaehan quietly mumbles, “How much trouble do you think we’re going to get in? Be honest.”
Shifting from foot to foot, the therapist gives a little shrug. “I mean, as long as we clean up after ourselves… You’d be surprised how much food is thrown out or donated every week. We’re not going to make a dent.”
Looking up at the corners of the room for where he can only assume there’ll be cameras watching them, Jaehan flatly states, “That’s not what I meant.”
Unfortunately for him, absolutely no one is listening. Already Junghoon has a skillet on the nearest stove, and Hyuk is happily nibbling on half-cooked sausage links he found in a fridge. Jinwoo is clearly attempting to find a peeler of some variety, and from the back of the room, there’s a clang as Hwichan drops the unnecessarily large soup pot he’s pulled out. If he were going to veto this excursion, he should have done it approximately several days ago, and not right now.
Turning back to Kevin to make another half-hearted comment, Jaehan finds the man has already scampered off to help everyone else make bad decisions. He wishes he could say he’s surprised, but considering he’s known the man for over half a year now, he’s not in the least bit shocked.
He gives it about twenty minutes before something is on fire.
Of course, when it comes down to it, he can’t really argue with the decision to raid the kitchens. He’s sick of the Bureau issued food too. Logically, they could have Kevin get ahold of one of those internal menus the paper pushers pass around, but that would mean relying on the paper pushers for something, and none of them want to do that. It’s a pride thing. Which means either they’re figuring it out themselves, or they’re doing this to get some real food.
This, at least, takes out the part where the cafeteria processes everything into unrecognizable slop. It’s wild to think they’ve actually been eating fresh food all this time, just doctored and mixed to the point of being ruined. He swears he’s never seen a fresh vegetable since he left his old team, and yet Jaehan finds himself being handed a heartfelt attempt at a salad by Hwichan not fifteen minutes into walking into the kitchen.
Sure, the tomatoes are definitely purple and there are at least a couple of these leaf types he didn’t know were edible until he puts them into his mouth, but it’s a salad! It’s green! It hasn’t been injected with his daily requirement of fish oil and vitamin D before being handed to him.
He swears he’s never tasted anything better.
“I say we make this a regular thing,” Junghoon announces, over the sizzling oil in the pans he’s watching over. “Like… Once a week? Maybe twice? It’s not like we have a schedule we need to keep. I’ll lose some sleep if it means we get to eat.”
“I can always bring you stuff from outside the facility,” Kevin offers, as he desperately tries to wrest the uncooked chicken from Yechan before he tries to put it in his mouth. “I’m sure if we get access to your pay that’s coming in and we pool finances, we can-”
“No no, the Bureau is here to feed us, so they’re going to feed us.” Jinwoo points in his direction with a spatula that he picked up from only void knows where. “If I have to steal the food, then that’s what it takes. What are they going to do, throw me back on the field?”
There’s a ripple of amusement from everyone else in the kitchen. Jaehan just picks at his salad and tries not to think too hard about any of this.
Honestly, he can’t even be that mad. Jinwoo has a point. If this is all food available in the cafeteria kitchens, and it’d be offered to them free of charge on a normal day, then liberating it early can’t be that much of a crime. Certainly he’s not going to say anything. They’ve probably already done worse with digging the stuff up about the missing fae team. Their food crimes are negligible by comparison.
“Do you want some?” Glancing beside him at Hyuk’s half eaten container of sausage, Jaehan lifts a worried eyebrow.
“Did you cook them?”
Hyuk blinks and his wagging tail slows. “Am I supposed to?”
Sighing, Jaehan finally abandons his post beside the exit and wanders his way over to one of the countless free stoves. It takes him a moment to figure out how to turn it on. It takes him several more minutes to locate a pan that isn’t monstrously big, but the moment he does, he’s tossing the sausage in for Hyuk. And when Hwichan walks by and dumps a handful of assorted peppers, onions, and other vegetables in with the meat, he doesn’t raise an eyebrow.
Void knows if any of them are following a recipe, but after the shit they’ve eaten in the past months, anything they cook up here is going to taste like heaven.
When Jaehan glances to the side and finds Hyuk watching him with big eyes and a happily wagging tail, any and all apprehension fades. What’s one more team bonding exercise in the grand scheme of things. The worst that happens is one of the night guards finds them here. And honestly, most of those people know them on sight at this point.
It’s almost like they’ve been here for entirely too fucking long.
As he cooks, Jaehan finds himself side by side with Yechan, who’s happily dumping things into a cooking pan to stick in the oven. He thinks he recognizes at least three types of meat in there, but he doesn’t question it. Anything that can trace its roots back to demons tends to be carnivorous. It’s not exactly surprising the man is eager to get his hands on some actual meat for once, instead of the portioned meatloaf nonsense that usually pops out on the cafeteria trays.
Nudging the non-human in one of his scaled sides, Jaehan gives the man a smile. “What do you think of it here so far?”
“This is the biggest kitchen I’ve seen in my life,” Yechan confides, his yellow eyes wide.
“I- I was talking about-” Sighing, Jaehan shakes his head and dips his chin to hide the smile. “Yeah, this place is massive. Can you believe they have all this space and we still get the same slop every day?”
“I’ve heard if you ask for demon food, they’ll serve you human meat.” That’s a comment from Hyuk, who’s tail is wagging so furiously it’s making a repeated gonging sound every time it hits the metal counter. Jaehan’s not sure if the man is excited by that particular prospect, or by something else entirely.
“Alright, well, I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” Giving a nervous laugh, Jaehan pokes at his sizzling pan with the spatula Kevin found for him. “There’s no way the Bureau of all places would serve something like that.”
“I mean, they might.” From where he’s got several pots bubbling away, Junghoon waves a dirty ladle. “This is the Bureau we’re talking about. If they thought they could get away with it, they’d do just about anything. And what do you think they do with all those failed experiments down in the labs? Bury them? In this economy?”
Jaehan glances his way, brows pinching in concern. “I don’t think that’s ethical.”
Pensively, Jinwoo leans over the other side of the stove he’s cooking on. “I’m afraid there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism.”
Choking on that particular statement, because Jaehan’s fairly certain that’s not what they meant, he gives up and lets the conversation pass on over his head. He hopes they aren’t recycling anything that used to be sapient through the kitchens, but Junghoon is right. This is the Bureau, and sometimes he wonders.
That being said, he doesn’t stop cooking. Especially when it’s starting to smell good and Hyuk’s tail is thumping into his upper thigh every other second as the canid leans over his shoulder to watch what he’s doing. Honestly, eating something that was theoretically sapient at one point probably isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done. As awful as that sounds.
By the time they’ve all finished their various cooking escapades, Jinwoo has dragged in some spare chairs from the cafeteria and they’ve got several suspicious looking dishes all served up on several trays. Pot holders seem to be a thing of legend, but Hyuk volunteers his shirt to pull things out of the oven, and Hwichan decidedly announces that he doesn’t care what happens to the Bureau’s nice stainless steel counter-tops.
“They can afford to replace them,” he starts as he slides into the same chair as Jinwoo and reaches a pair of tongs into the nearest skillet. “I mean look at this place. If they can’t afford it, I’d be more concerned.”
“Exactly,” Junghoon agrees, as he sets yet another hot pan down on the counter, using what remains of Hyuk’s shirt to keep his hands safe. “Honestly, a few irremovable stains will add some character to this place.”
Jaehan is almost inclined to agree, but he still does the responsible thing in requesting, “Can we not cause damage if we can help it? Otherwise they won’t let us back in here.”
“Oh bold of you to assume I won’t just steal someone else’s keycard.” Wriggling around until he’s comfortable, half draped over Hwichan’s lap, Jinwoo lifts a glass of what looks and smells like pineapple juice into the air. “A toast! To food that doesn’t look vaguely like vomit.”
As Kevin lets out a sound of complaint at the comparison, Yechan eagerly raises his cup of what smells vaguely like barbecue sauce to meet Jinwoo’s. “May this be the first, but definitely not the last dinner we have together.”
That, at least, is something everyone can agree on.
Despite very little of the food resembling anything from a traditional recipe, it’s all delicious. Between the fresh vegetables, the unprocessed meat, and the other side dishes Hwichan and Kevin managed to pull out of the back storage, it’s practically a feast. Though logically they need to keep their voices down and not draw attention to themselves, everyone is as boisterous and loud as usual. More so, Jaehan suspects, though that might just be the echo.
It’s nice though. The closest thing to a family dinner he can imagine in a place like this. Sure they always eat together in the cafeteria, but there’s a distinctly different feel to that. In there, they’re surrounded by hundreds of other people, conversation is difficult, and the stuff on their plates is disgusting.
Here, he can actually hear the bad jokes Junghoon is making, and enjoy the way Kevin and Yechan laugh at every single one. He can almost catch the stupidly suggestive things Hwichan is whispering in Jinwoo’s ear, and he’s able to make out the happy way Hyuk’s tail slaps against the seat of his chair whenever he talks. It’s nice, homey and comforting in a way he’s not used to but is distinctly thankful for.
Even after they’ve gorged their way through most of the food, they stick around to keep chatting. Yechan starts telling a story from his old home town, and Kevin chimes in with memories from the place he grew up. Apparently, both of them had local dragon populations, which always made the relative ages of everyone wonky. Which lead to some truly fascinating stories about the weird ass families and feuds that stuck around for longer than a human could remember.
Quickly, it spirals into Junghoon and Jaehan telling hunting stories that they’ve likely told a dozen times before. No one cares though, it’s familiar and it’s fun. There’s something enjoyable about gradually sharing their pasts with each other, until it becomes difficult to distinguish old memories of your own from the memories of everyone else.
Jaehan knows he loves it. Sure, nights like this can’t last forever, but his recollections of them will. As stupid as it may sound, this is the kind of thing that sticks forever. What makes the rest of the job worth it, as well as life in general.
Because void knows how much he cares about these men. They’re well and truly his at this point. Emotional distance be damned, he adores every single one of them. It’s been building ever since he talked to Yeonsik, ever since Jonghyeon’s team disappeared on them. There’s a sense of belonging here that he’s never felt before.
Not back home, from what he remembers of his childhood. Not even necessarily in his old team, as much as he loved them. These aren’t people he was stuck with, these are people he stuck to by choice.
That makes it so much more meaningful.
By the time Kevin is helping fish the closest things they can find to dessert out of the freezer, Jaehan feels pleasantly relaxed. Sure, they may have to answer for this come morning, but he doesn’t really care. Even if they drag him into an office somewhere tomorrow to berate him for this, it’ll have been worth it.
Anything to get to spend some more time with these people, taking what joy they can out of a joyless place and spinning it into something good.
“I think we lost Jinwoo-hyung,” Junghoon announces, somewhere halfway through Yechan and Hyuk trying to make frosting for the cake they’ve slapped together with the ingredients they’ve found in the massive pantry. “Someone make sure he hasn’t locked himself in the freezer.”
“Oh don’t be silly, there’s no way he would have managed that,” Kevin insists, despite the way he’s instinctively creeping towards the industrial freezer in the corner. “I know he gets himself into trouble, but he’s not that bad.”
“I don’t know about that, he managed to get himself locked in the equipment closet at the gym last week,” Junghoon points out, as he leans between Hyuk and Yechan to check on the enthusiastic stirring that’s happening. “I think you need more butter”
“Actually, we need more chocolate,” Hyuk says decisively, measuring out another tablespoon of cocoa powder with utter certainty. “We already put enough handfuls of butter in.”
“You mean sticks, right?” Junghoon asks incredulously.
Wings spreading in evident concern, Yechan quietly asks, “No, were they supposed to look like sticks?”
As the three of them descend into bickering, Jaehan glances around the kitchen. Now that they mention it, Jinwoo is missing, along with, he realizes, Hwichan. If he thinks about it, he can remember the two of them slipping out sometime after the main meal, but he doesn’t remember them telling him why. Not that they owe him an explanation, but he’s kind of used to getting one regardless.
“Well, at least he’s not locked away somewhere,” Kevin says decidedly as he returns from the freezer, before getting a look at what the other three are doing and letting out a yelp. “No, that's baking powder, not powdered sugar! This is frosting, what are you- No!”
Chuckling at the sight, Jaehan does another revolution, taking in the minor disaster they’ve caused in the kitchen. Some of it has been cleaned up, most of the dinner mess at least, but there’s the dessert mess scattered over any number of surfaces. If the clock on the wall is correct, they’ve still got another two hours before they need to worry about any cafeteria staff walking in. Hopefully, that’ll be long enough.
Vaguely, he calls out, “I’m going to head back and make sure Jinwoo is alright,” before ducking his way out of the kitchens, leaving the other four to their cake making. He doesn’t even bother telling them to avoid setting anything on fire. Either they will or they won’t, his input isn’t going to do shit.
The halls of the facility are empty at this time of night. Though it’s only a fifteen minute walk from the cafeteria they always frequent to the dorms, it feels much longer. Time stretches liminally around him, making him lose track of where he is, even though he’s walked this particular path a hundred times before. The effect is eerie, but it gives him a moment to think. To let the events of the night settle.
As his movements go on autopilot, he finds himself grinning stupidly. It’s been a good evening. He really couldn’t ask for anything better.
Their dorms are serene, without the constant energy and noise of the rest of the group. In the hearth, the stolen radiator rattles softly and the wind outside the facility sings against the metal roof. Technically, the room is a mess, but it doesn’t feel like it to Jaehan. The piled blankets on the floor are supposed to be there, the study materials that fill the table are used frequently enough to have earned their spot. And insisting Kevin keep his collection of pens elsewhere feels sacrilegious at this point.
When he steps into the room, Jaehan half expects to find Hwichan and Jinwoo cuddled up on the couch together, passed out and tangled together. Instead, he’s met with an empty space and the warm glow from the table lamp. He’s pretty sure there are fewer lights on than when he left, and the mug of chocolate milk stolen from the kitchens is still sitting out on the side table.
After spotting Hwichan’s jacket and Jinwoo’s jeans on the floor, he puts the rest of the pieces together with a little chuckle.
Not entirely surprising, especially considering how the two of them were acting at dinner. He adores them both, possibly far too much, but neither of them are good at subtly. Granted, he doesn’t think anyone else in this group is good at it either, but Jinwoo is especially bad, and Hwichan, for whatever void forsaken reason, tends to mirror that behavior whenever they flirt.
Oh well. Jaehan finds it endearing, which he figures is what matters.
Glancing down the silent hallway, Jaehan cranes his neck in an attempt to see if the lights are on in Jinwoo’s or Hwichan’s room. Considering Jinwoo never sleeps in his room if he can help it, they probably aren’t there. So logically…
But when he gets to it, Hwichan’s room is dark, and the door is wide open. Peeking his head in, just in case, Jaehan turns around, confused. They’re here somewhere, he’d like to believe his boys have enough decorum to at least keep their clothes on while not in the dorms, but then again, it’s a challenge to keep Hyuk in anything. Maybe he shouldn’t overestimate them.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to explore that train of thought for long. As he steps back towards the living room, Jaehan happens to glance at his own door and that’s where he finds the telltale sliver of light. Which means they hadn’t wandered off after all, they’d just stayed even closer than he’d expected.
Hesitating for a moment, hand hovering over the doorknob, Jaehan rubs at the back of his neck. It’s not that he’s worried necessarily about finding something he shouldn’t. The three of them frequently fool around with each other, they’ve gone so far as to talk it out to keep it from getting uncomfortable or complicated. But at least in this case, Jaehan feels distinctly like if they’d wanted him to join, they’d have said so. He should probably just creep into someone else’s bedroom and leave them to it. That, or go back to the kitchens and help with cake baking.
But… On the flip side, it’s his room. In his opinion, that’s the closest to a direct non-verbal invitation as he can get.
The sound of Jinwoo mumbling sleepily from the other side of the door decides it for him. Even if the two of them had wanted privacy before, it seems like the majority of fun has already been had. Surely they won’t mind his intrusion now.
Carefully, Jaehan twists the knob and nudges the old door open.
The sight that meets him is… almost painfully domestic. Hwichan and Jinwoo are sprawled out on his bed, a sheet haphazardly thrown over them as they cuddle together. With the bedside lamp on, Jaehan is easily able to see the remnants of their earlier activities. The bottle of lube never got recapped, and Jaehan just barely resists the urge to laugh at the box of condoms that has ended up halfway across the room.
Part of him is deeply tempted to tease the two of them for their choice of room to do this in. He wants to ask if they’d been hoping he showed up earlier, maybe comment that next time they should just ask him, but… Hwichan looks content, half curled around Jinwoo, and though Jinwoo is blinking sleepily at him, Jaehan severely doubts he’s actually awake.
“Hyung?” In an voice that sounds distinctly overused, Jinwoo softly mumbles, “ ‘s that you?”
He’s wearing one of Jaehan’s shirts, he notices. It’s definitely got a few suspicious looking stains on it, and the thoughts that spawns have a very specific warmth pulsing through him.
Instead of directly answering, Jaehan offers the man an indulgent smile before bending down and fiddling with the night light. “Comfy?”
“Sticky.” Wrinkling his nose, Jinwoo attempts to sit up, only for Hwichan to tighten his grip and pull him back down. Jaehan is bemused to see his favorite pair of sweatpants have also been co-opted in this process. It’s fine though. Seeing his clothes on his boys does something correct to his brain. Just like the sight of them on his bed feels right.
He may not have been part of it, but he still feels distinctly included. In a way that’s difficult to articulate, even within the confines of his own brain.
Huffing fondly, Jaehan points a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get a washcloth.”
Nodding, Jinwoo gives up on trying to get up and just settles back down, seemingly content to be cuddled.
By the time Jaehan gets back with a damp washcloth, Hwichan is vaguely awake and at least making an attempt to neaten things up. Of course, the moment Jaehan pushes him back to the mattress, he gives in willingly, a contented cat’s smile lazily crawling onto his face as he does. Snorting at the pleased look, Jaehan resists the urge to poke the man in the side and instead turns his attention to his original task.
There’s something weirdly satisfying about it, seeing the evidence left behind by their activities as he cleans them up. Jinwoo suffered the worst of it, with bruises on his hips and marks covering his thighs and neck. But Jaehan doesn’t miss the bite on Hwichan’s shoulder, and the little crescents that Jinwoo’s nails left in his back.
He thinks it’s good for them both, and probably for him too in a certain respect. Hwichan is able to be rougher with Jinwoo than Jaehan is. It doesn’t trigger the same kind of instinctive fear for him, and he seems to enjoy really letting go. Meanwhile Jinwoo seems more relaxed these days, almost like that controlled intensity pushes a button in his brain that lets him unwind.
And Jaehan, he gets to be gentle and soft with both of them. Whether it be like this, when they’re tired and pliant and quick to lean into his touches and kisses, or when they’re fucking, where they let him pamper them as much as he wants. Perhaps it’s not the most conventional of arrangements, but everyone’s getting out of it what they want, so it works.
Honestly, Jaehan just loves seeing the two of them happy. Contented and just a little grumbly when his careful attention keeps poking them both awake. Eventually, Jinwoo finds just enough consciousness to mumble something about it being fine before grabbing Jaehan and dragging him back down to the mattress.
“You missed cake making,” Jaehan comments, as he reaches over and switches off the bedside lamp. The moment he does, the glow of the night light fills the small room, just enough illumination to keep Jinwoo happy without also keeping Hwichan awake. “I think it was supposed to be chocolate?”
“I’d bet money on them somehow fucking it up,” Hwichan hums, rolling closer until Jaehan wraps an obliging arm around his bare shoulders. If he runs his hand over the man’s skin, he can feel the concentric scars of elemental magic gone awry that radiate down his ribs.
“Nah, they’ve got this,” Jinwoo insists, attempting to crawl up onto Jaehan before giving up halfway. “I… believe in them.”
His words slur together slightly. With his free hand, Jaehan does his best to nudge the sheets over all of them. Getting the message, Hwichan helps until they’re all tucked in. The bed is definitely too small for this many people, but that just means they have to stay close together, practically on top of each other just to make room. It’s warm and just a little stifling, but Jaehan loves it.
He loves the feeling of Jinwoo sticking his nose into the crook of his neck. He adores how small Hwichan’s hands seem when they fist in the front of his shirt. Jaehan would never say it out loud, but at moments like this, he feels needed.
It’s one of those sensations you don’t know is important until you have it and realize it was something you craved.
“Try to escape earlier next time,” Hwichan breathes quietly, his voice somewhere by Jaehan’s ear. “It’s nice having the place to ourselves.”
“I trust leaving Jinwoo in your capable hands,” Jaehan teases back, smiling at the halfhearted grumble it gets from the man in question. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
“They’ll sort themselves out,” Hwichan reasons. Wriggling slightly, he shifts his position until he can get his lips on Jaehan’s cheek. “Please hyung? I want you here.”
It’s hard to say no to that. Especially when Jinwoo gives him a kiss as well, one that’s much sleepier but just as sweet.
“Missed you,” Jinwoo insists, like Jaehan’s mind wasn’t already made up.
Rolling his eyes slightly, Jaehan draws them both into a hug, much to both of their displeasure. Ignoring Hwichan’s subdued squawk and Jinwoo’s instinctive wriggling, he grins and holds them both close. He may be stuck in a weird hellscape of twisting hallways and food that never looks or tastes like food, but he has Jinwoo and Hwichan. And he’s also got the rest of their group; Yechan and Junghoon and Hyuk and Kevin. He’s happy.
Even before getting put in this facility, Jaehan struggles to recall when he was ever truly happy.
“Just let me know and I’ll be there,” Jaehan promises, letting go of both men and watching as they both pout in different ways. “But right now you two should probably sleep.”
There will always be more time tomorrow.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
After about seven months in this hellhole, Jaehan finally manages to find his way outside.
Jinwoo helps him find a way out. At this point, he thinks Jinwoo is responsible for helping him find most things around here. It makes sense when you think about it. As far as he knows, of the group they’ve been here the longest, so the two of them have the building as well mapped out as anyone can. They haven't yet managed to find the exact dimensions of the place, but eventually they're going to. And in the meantime, they’ll find things like outside walls, and most importantly, exits.
It's nice. Having the sun on his face again after so long is strange, but welcome. Jaehan remembers when he used to have an almost permanent tan, considering how much time he spent outside. These days, he feels like he looks a bit like a zombie. Sallow, and just a little bit unhealthy, suffering despite the special lighting they have dotted all over the building to simulate sunlight.
Actually, the fact they feel the need to have those kind of lights says something. You can claim it a necessity for dragons and fae all you want, at the end of the day it means the rest of the people housed within the facility can stay there for weeks at a time. Going outside simply becomes optional. At least, in theory. Now that Jaehan is outside again, he doesn’t think he’s going to be willing to trade this for anything.
"You know," Jinwoo begins, as they stand in the center of the large stone courtyard and stare up at the expansive sky above him. "My old base- well, not my base exactly, but– ah, you know what I mean." He furrows his brows for a second, then the expression clears. "It was next to a desert. There was so much direct sunlight all the time, I swear, we went through more sunscreen than your average vampire. But I could handle it, y’know? I was used to it. Now… I swear it hurts to open my eyes, it’s so bright."
"I lived in Central America." It's weird, how Jaehan's words don't echo out here. Not like they do inside, where everything bounces back at him in a strange and very particular way. Out here, his voice sounds almost alien to his own ears. "I had a tan. Can you imagine?"
Eying him sideways, Jinwoo cracks a grin. "Nah, can't imagine it at all. You look like you're wasting away before my very eyes."
That's not entirely true and Jaehan knows it. It's not like they haven't been keeping up with their physical training, however limited the Bureau’s gyms are. But he understands what the man means, and he finds himself laughing at the sentiment. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."
"Hey," Jinwoo squawks, clapping a hand to his chest. "I'll have you know that I stay in the sun rooms for at least two hours a day. If I remember to. Which I do, at least a few days a week.” Sticking his nose in the air, he haughtily insists, “I'm doing much better than you."
"Sure you are," Jaehan hums, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Might want to bump that up to three hours a day, your skin is looking a little iffy."
They both laugh. Dramatically, Jinwoo lets out a happy sigh and flops to the floor. The ground, Jaehan reminds himself. For once, it's not another linoleum floor. This is actually concrete for once, sun warmed and dusty.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Tipping his face up at the sky, Jinwoo smiles, lazy, wide and contented. "I’d forgotten what it felt like. Isn’t that sad?”
"No sadder than me saying the same thing.” It’s insane to Jaehan, how easily he was able to adapt to living in what amounted to a cave.
If you’d told him that would be the case before, he’d have laughed at you. But the Bureau had spoken, and like a machine he’d simply figured it out. Part of him wants to say he’s done figuring it out, he wants to live again. The rest of him knows that eventually, he’ll wander back inside and get back to his coursework.
“It’s crazy how much sky there is.” Leaning back on his hands, Jinwoo’s expression becomes a bit rueful. “Windows really don’t do it justice.”
“I bet the stars look gorgeous from here." Looking up at the sky himself, at the endless blue dotted with only a select few clouds, Jaehan hums under his breath. “We should bring everybody else out sometime. Let them all get a taste of the outdoors too."
"Feels like we're doing something we shouldn't, doesn't it?" Cracking open an eye, Jinwoo glances up at Jaehan and wiggles an eyebrow. "Almost like we're escaping."
Though he knows he probably shouldn't, Jaehan finds the question coming to his lips all too easily. "Maybe we should run away."
Obviously, they can't. Now without getting in some kind of trouble. At least, he presumes. He's not exactly sure what keeps him here at the Bureau, other than the fact they have nowhere else to go and this place takes care of all of their basic needs. Presumably, they're still allowed to wander off and go other places, as long as they report back when they're supposed to. Still, Jinwoo is right. Even this little excursion feels illicit.
Leaving the confines of Bureau-owned land sounds like an impossibility.
Thinking about Jaehan’s suggestion for a long moment, Jinwoo's bottom lip sticks out in a familiar pout. "You know, a few months ago, I'd have taken you up on that offer. I hate it here. Being literally anywhere else would be better."
"But…" Jaehan prods.
Shrugging, Jinwoo closes his eyes again. "You’ll laugh."
Settling down next to the man, Jaehan knocks their knees together and waits for Jinwoo to blink big bleary eyes at him. "You know me better than that. When have I ever genuinely laughed at you before?"
Inching closer, until their thighs are flush, Jinwoo stares at the ground for a long moment. Though Jaehan doesn't count the seconds, he's pretty sure that entire minutes pass. Long enough for him to think that the conversation has already ended. Long enough for him to decide that he doesn’t need to push it further. Then, Jinwoo speaks, his voice hilariously small as he does. Almost like he’s terrified to be heard.
"I'm actually happy, hyung." He says it like he's ashamed of the fact. As if his happiness is somehow a crime. "I know I always talk about how much I hate the Bureau and being stuck here, and I do! I'd rather be literally anywhere else. But… I don't want to be literally anywhere else if you guys aren't there."
In an instant, it takes the breath out of Jaehan's lungs.
"I know it's stupid," Jinwoo mumbles, scuffing his feet against the pavement. “We’re not actually a team, and I shouldn’t get comfortable, but… they’ve given up on us, haven't they? We're just rotting away here. We're just sitting around in this building doing whatever stupid shit they’ve come up with to occupy us, and that’s going to be the rest of our careers. We're never leaving. And… I think I'm okay with that.”
Leaning against his knees, Jinwoo’s bottom lip sticks out in a slight pout, but there’s acceptance in his eyes, rather than the resignation Jaehan has gotten used to. “I think I could live here for a while,” he admits, tone softening. “At least until I'm allowed to retire. And then… I don't know, maybe I'll stick around some more. This is fine."
It's the first time he said it that bluntly, that they aren't getting reassigned. Though Jaehan has his little list of arguments and reasons why that's incorrect and there’s no way the Bureau would do that to them, all of it fails him in that moment. Because maybe Jinwoo is right. Maybe this is it.
Jaehan’s too broken to be useful, too broken to ever have a normal life, but not broken enough for anybody to care. They’ve stuck him into a glorified cage because they can’t yet get rid of him, and they’ve thrown away the key. Maybe in some ways, it’s hell, but on the other side of that coin, he's got a group of people he cares about surrounding him, and that might be enough.
"You know," Jaehan starts softly, like it’s a secret he needs to keep. “I don't know if I want to be reassigned either. I was so set on it, like- what else am I supposed to do with my life? I need a team, I need to be out there, doing things, but-” Snapping his mouth shut, he gives a minute shrug. "You’re right, this is fine.
There’s something painful buried in Jinwoo’s expression, but when it turns into a smile, Jaehan knows it's a genuine one. He knows that despite the typical layer of sarcasm and theatrics, Jinwoo is sincere. He's always sincere. "It's been so long since I've actually been happy. I didn't think I was ever going to be again." One of Jinwoo's hands reaches out, and Jaehan catches it without thinking, tangling the man’s crooked fingers in his own. "I mean, the people I cared about most in the world died. They were killed gruesomely. Basically in front of me. And yet… here I am."
"You're allowed to be happy," Jaehan says, knowing the words are canned, but also knowing they're true. He's pretty sure he's heard Kevin say them before. If he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, they’re probably all screwed.
"No, I know I'm allowed to be happy. That's not what I'm talking about." Jinwoo waves his free hand, making big sweeping gestures that could honestly mean anything. "I kept telling myself that they’d want me to be happy. I kept trying to… I don't know, live for them? Go on for them? I tried to do a lot of things. I wanted to be happy. But I wasn't. Now I am."
There's something manic gnawing away at the edges of Jinwoo’s smile. But Jaehan gets it, doesn't this place make everyone a little manic?
It definitely has for him.
Tightening his grip around the man’s fingers, Jaehan carefully admits, "You know, as much as I wanted to be reassigned, I wasn't sure I wanted a new group. If that makes sense."
Lips parting slightly, Jinwoo nods. Of course he would get it. Probably, he gets it even better than Jaehan does.
"It's stupid, but I felt… discarded." Jaehan’s never talked about this stuff. In all his time stuck in this place, he’s spent so much time trying to get everyone else's stories out of them that he doesn't really have enough time to talk about his own. He's come to terms with his situation, so he doesn’t need to bring it up. That's what he always tells himself.
Maybe, enough time has gone past that those little white lies are actually true.
"You weren't discarded, hyung." Leaning a little closer, Jinwoo butts his head against Jaehan’s shoulder. “And if you were, they were stupid to do it.”
Waving off the stubborn words, Jaehan cracks a half smile. "Logically, I know that, but that's what it felt like. My old partner retired, without ever telling me or letting me know what was going on. He just left. Then the Bureau disbanded our team, and I know a couple of them are still with the NHII but I haven’t even heard what happened to them, much less had them visit or try to contact me." He pulls a face. "I wonder if they're even still alive."
Pursing his lips together, Jinwoo presses himself closer and doesn't say anything. Admittedly, Jaehan appreciates the quiet comfort more than anything else right now. Voicing this is hard enough without trying to explain any of it.
"Logically, I knew they were going to put me in a new group eventually, or at least I assumed they would. But I think I was secretly dreading it? That was my family.” His words echo an ancient conversation between himself and Jinwoo. One that apparently stuck with him more strongly than he realized. "I didn't want another family. I didn't want replacements. I didn't want to believe I could just move on from them, even if… Even if I felt like they moved on from me."
"Well, looks like you got your wish," Jinwoo says, a faint smile on his lips. There's something a little hollow about it, like he's thinking something that he wishes he wasn't. "If you never get reassigned, you'll never have to go through it again. You'll never get stuck with another fake family."
Even though he knows it's the wrong thing to say, even though he knows it’s stupid and probably just as shallow and fleeting as everything else, Jaehan still speaks. With blunt and utter honesty.
"You guys are my family."
With a look of ill-concealed wonder in his eyes, Jinwoo stares at him.
Feeling foolish, Jaehan rubs the back of his neck and looks away. "I know, we're not even in a group. None of us are even bonded with each other, it's not– it's not the same. Not like a real team. It’s complete chance that we even ended up in the same place at the same time. But…"
"No, I get it." Jinwoo is still staring at him, that same look of wondrous determination in his eyes. "I've been thinking of you as my leader for a while now, hyung."
"You probably shouldn't," Jaehan warns. "I don't even have any training as a leader. I never got through that part of the Academy, they never even considered me for it."
"Who cares?" Picking up a shard of pavement by his leg, Jinwoo throws it as far as he can. Both of them watch as it bounces off of the concrete before skittering to stop next to one of the low walls. "You're still my leader, and… Hwichan-hyung is another one of your hunters. Just like Junghoon and Kevin. Hyuk would probably Kevin’s partner, I think. And Yechan…" Swallowing, like he’s embarrassed to have even thought about it this much in the first place, Jinwoo puffs out his cheeks. “Well… if we were actually a group. And everything was official-"
Amused, Jaehan cocks an eyebrow. "He'd be your partner."
Coloring a definite shade of red, Jinwoo stares very hard at nothing for a long moment. "I just think… we'd work well together."
Thinking of the two of them, the way they interact, how well they’ve been getting along ever since Yechan showed up, Jaehan agrees. They tease each other, sure, and they make each other’s lives difficult, but that's part of the fun. He did that with his old partner. He’s sure Jinwoo was the same with his last partner too.
"You're right, I think you'd be great together."
Instantly animating, Jinwoo hurries to clarify, "I wouldn't want them to make us partners. Because that would mean we were going to be reassigned, and I don't want to be reassigned. I want to stay right here with the rest of you. But… if we were all a group, then yeah, I'd want Yechan to be my partner. I think it’d be nice.”
"Well," Jaehan begins, reaching up his free hand so he can ruffle Jinwoo's shaggy hair. "If I were your leader, and I actually had any say in the matter, I’d definitely make you two partners. And I'd be honored to have both of you on my team."
Beaming at that, Jinwoo leans closer, until his head falls into Jaehan’s lap. With the sun shining down on them, the closeness is a little stifling, but he welcomes it regardless. "I'll be the first to admit,” Jinwoo mumbles, as he picks at Jaehan’s jeans. “What we’ve got now is a cheap imitation of a life that’s worth living, but we're hunters. We were never going to get anything great, so all things considered, this isn't that bad."
Nodding, Jaehan leans back, allowing for the man in his lap to get more comfortable. "If I had it my way, we'd all be in a base somewhere.” After listening to Jinwoo’s little fantasies, it’s much easier to admit to his own. “Maybe we’d get a couple more of you partnered up first, but I’m sure we could make all of us fit. But it’d be nice to have our own place, and our own kitchen.”
Jinwoo immediately jumps in, twisting so he can look up at Jaehan. "And an actual living room. And maybe a little porch we can sit on. And like… a convenience store nearby? Though that one can be optional." His eyes are lit up, like a child’s on the winter solstice.
“The Bureau would probably send us on some pretty fucked up jobs," Jaehan admits, pulling a face. "Since at this point, I think we all specialize in pretty fucked up things. But it'd still be cool. We’d have stuff to do that way, and I’m sure we’d be able to handle it. We could like… make friends with other groups?"
Laughing, Jinwoo disentangles their hands so he can throw his arms over his head, fully stretching out over Jaehan's lap. "We could terrorize the local group. And probably also the district group. And any other regional groups that were nearby, they’d probably hate us too. But that’s fine, I don’t really care."
“You’re already planning on us being insufferable?” Scoffing, Jaehan throws his head back. “I think you severely underestimate how many friends we’ve made even while being here. I think whoever we end up near will like us fine.”
“I can change that,” Jinwoo assures him, a laugh just beyond his words. “I can get worse on purpose.”
“Maybe try getting better on purpose,” Jaehan suggests, already knowing his words are falling on deaf ears.
“Sounds boring.” Smile fading slightly, Jinwoo draws his arms back against his chest and curls up against Jaehan’s stomach. “Can’t let that happen.”
It's so juvenile, theorizing like this, constructing an implausible future for themselves. Jaehan loves it, he never wants the moment to end.
"If we had our own base, I bet they’d let us redecorate it,” Jaehan muses. “We could finally have enough chairs in the living room for everyone.”
"But I'd still sit in your lap," Jinwoo announces, which is exactly what he’s attempting to do now. “Because it’s comfortable.”
Rolling his eyes, Jaehan smiles softly. "Yeah, you would. Despite my protests otherwise."
The slant of Jinwoo’s mouth is just a little mischievous, curled at the corners like a cat’s smile. "Admit it, hyung, you love me."
"You're right," Jaehan agrees without hesitation. "I do. Stick around. Don't vanish on me."
Smile fading into something else, Jinwoo gives a small nod. "Yeah,” he promises quietly. "I'm not going anywhere."
Foolish as it is, Jaehan absolutely believes it.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Life for Jaehan doesn't get more complicated than that until Hangyeom shows up.
Well, ‘shows up’ is probably the wrong way to say it. Hangyeom doesn't actually wander through any of Jaehan's normal haunts, doesn’t fall into his lap like the rest of his little family did. Instead, it's Jaehan making a trip out to a different side of the facility that has them running into each other. And even then, he doesn't really think anything of it until quite a bit later.
It's one of those occult tests he’s coming to despise so much. They have him going clear across the facility to take it, far earlier in the morning than anyone should have to be conscious. Which, if you were wondering, means he ends up having to leave his room a good two hours before the test is supposed to be taken so he can actually find the place on time.
There isn't any good way to travel across the facility quickly, after all. He doesn't have the kind of magic that would help him, and none of the people he spends time around have any way to help him get somewhere quickly. You’d think the paper pushers or an official or someone would think this through, but no, that's expecting way too much.
So he's already in an interesting mood. A good walk is nothing to turn his nose up at. Actually, he appreciates some physical activity that isn't getting his ass kicked in the gym by Hyuk. But he’s definitely thinking about it in terms of an inconvenience.
On top of that, the test is hard, and that just feels like adding insult on top of injury, because now he's got to take a two hour walk back after probably bombing the thing.
Needless to say, he decides to take a detour and walk out some of the frustration. He's all the way out here, why not?
That’s where he first meets Hangyeom.
Considering this is the headquarters of the NHII, as well as one of the Bureau’s main facilities, it makes sense that there are some… interesting parts to it. Laboratories and prisons and strange testing sites used for void knows what. Vast white rooms filled with one way mirrors, and floors made of glass that span out across massive tanks of murky water. Rooms full of medical equipment that would put even the most well equipped hospital to shame.
In his time here, Jaehan has glimpsed some of the oddities this building holds, but he definitely hasn’t seen most of it. After all, a lot of the ground floor, where he spends ninety-nine percent of his time, is taken by up by simple office space. Vast networks of rooms where people take care of paperwork sent in from all around the world. It’s what their dorm is adjacent to, it’s where most of his tests have taken place. If he doesn’t have any reason to wander, why would he poke his head into the weirder parts of the facility unless absolutely necessary?
Today, he’s decided the reason is because he’s adventuring and he wants to see what he can find. Obviously, he's not going to stick his nose anywhere it definitely doesn't belong. If somebody tells him to leave, he's not going to argue the point, and he's not going to try to sneak his way anywhere either. But if the doors are left open, or somebody volunteers information… Well that's another matter entirely.
As with all adventures, it very quickly goes off the rails because he very quickly gets lost.
Really, that's fine as well. He doesn't have to be back on his side of the building until later tonight. He promised to play a card game with Hwichan, and they were planning on teaching Yechan how to play as well. He can't miss that, he’d feel bad, but he won’t because the facility is only so big and he’ll wander his way to the correct place eventually.
Surely, he can find his way around.
He can’t. Several dead ends later, one of which forces him down a set of stairs, and another that makes him cross a frighteningly empty white room easily the size of a baseball field, he ends up in a mess of laboratories he's never seen before. It goes without saying that he’s hopelessly turned around and baffled as to how to get back. Vaguely, he’s aware he has to go up, but finding staircases goes from being far too easy to practically impossible. He’s not even sure which direction he should be attempting to travel in, much less how to keep his bearings in a maze like this.
The constant disapproving looks from paper pushers doesn’t help. The most he’s gotten in response to his genuine requests for directions are scoffs, rolled eyes, and expansive gestures that way like that’s supposed to help. Like somehow his getting lost is an imposition on them.
So how does Hangyeom factor in all this?
As it turns out, Hangyeom knows his way around this place, better than anyone has any right to. And as luck would have it, he just so happens to be walking down the hallway that Jaehan is aimlessly wandering through.
Jaehan doesn’t intend to ask for help, he’s already gotten confusing and downright misleading instructions from the past three paper pushers he’s talked to. But the gait coupled with the standard issue hunter boots has the question popping out of his mouth before he can stop himself. The last time he saw a clock, it claimed it was just past two. He’s tired of this.
“Hey, not to be a bother, but do you by chance know how to get back to cafeteria C?”
As the words leave his mouth, Jaehan takes a proper look at the hunter and- oh that’s not a hunter, is it?
Actually, Jaehan doesn't know what he is, but it's something strange. Stranger than he usually comes across. The man’s skin is almost translucent, that’s the only way he can think of to describe it, because he’s definitely able to see everything beneath. All the blood and sinew and muscles that move as he does. As if that wasn’t strange enough, his entire form seems to shift subtly over time, almost like he can’t keep an entirely consistent shape.
Looking away from this, from the standard issue hunter cargo pants and the most definitely not standard issue crop top, Jaehan focuses on the face. As he stares, he counts no fewer than seven eyes, though never open in the same places or at the same time. They just seem to form before sinking back into this creature’s malleable flesh once more. It doesn’t help that there’s a constant red mist rising off of the man, making prolonged attention to him difficult.
Finally, Jaehan decides on a pair of more stable eyes to focus on, the two slightly obscured by the mop of pinkish red hair, and only then does he catch the distinct five pointed stars that serve as this man’s pupils.
More than a little unsettled, Jaehan opens his mouth to apologize and go back to his wandering, only for the creature to talk over him. The surprisingly soft voice is accompanied by a weird solidifying of the man’s body, almost like it’s remembering what shape it needs to be for speech to work.
“I don’t know if I can get you to cafeteria C, but I can at least get you to office block C.”
Blinking at the juxtaposition of that smooth voice coming out of this body, Jaehan finds some of his nerves settling. “If you can get me that far, I should be able to find my way back.”
The creature- non-human, Jaehan decides to correct himself- nods, beckons once with a gloved hand, and starts off in the opposite direction as Jaehan had been traveling before. Quickly, not wanting to be left behind by this unexpected kindness, he spins sharply on his heels and hurries after the other.
“I’m Jaehan, by the way,” he says, as he catches up to the non-human.
Blinking several times, the other considers his response before finally replying, “Hangyeom.”
Maybe it’s misplaced, but Jaehan can’t help but give a little smile.
The trip back is much quicker than the journey that got Jaehan lost. It turns out that there’s actually tiny trams that run beneath the facility that no one thought to tell him about, and they make cross building travel a lot easier than walking. Hangyeom navigates them like he’s done it a million times. Jaehan notes the wide berth most people give him and sticks close to his new companion.
By the time they’ve gotten off the trains and back onto the correct floor of the facility, they’ve cut at least an hour off of their travel time in a handful of minutes. Jaehan briefly comments that there should be signs for this sort of thing, to which he gets the response that the people who need them are informed of them. Which sounds exactly like something the Bureau would say, and cuts that line of complaint off pretty quick. After all, it’s clearly not Hangyeom’s idea to keep it quiet.
“I’ve just been crossing the building on foot since I got here,” Jaehan says with a laugh, as they gently coast through the Bureau’s neatly carved little tunnels. “I never even heard the trains running.”
One of Hangyeom’s less necessary eyes swivels to stare at him. Expecting a reply, Jaehan waits until the silence between them starts to get mildly uncomfortable. Shifting from foot to foot, he gives an awkward chuckle and looks away. “Sorry, I may just be stupid or-”
“They don’t make sound.”
Blinking, Jaehan takes a second to process what’s being pointed out, but the moment it clicks his eyebrows shoot up. Because Hangyeom is right, despite them currently riding a tram that should be making a fair bit of noise, but for the chatter of the other people around them, it is quiet. Eerily so, once his attention has been drawn to it. Curiously, he edges towards one of the nearest windows and glances out at the rails.
Instantly, he’s met with the sight of glittering elemental magic. The walls around them are practically coated in it, thousands of circles that nest together indefinitely, all colliding with each other. He swears he’s never seen so much of it in one place before, and it’s as terrifying as it is impressive.
“So we’re floating,” Jaehan guesses, turning back to look at Hangyeom.
Giving a tiny nod, the non-human continues to stare at Jaehan for another long moment before going back to looking where they’re going. Though it’s a little off-putting, Jaehan decidedly rolls with it and returns to the man’s side.
There’s nothing wrong with being quiet.
Because he’s discovering Hangyeom is quiet. Almost uniquely so. Where Jaehan finds himself awkwardly making conversation the whole way back to his side of the building, the strange non-human hardly says more than a handful of words to him. His answers are monosyllabic. His expressions are difficult to read. He spends much more time staring at Jaehan than actually engaging in anything he says.
At some point, he also becomes aware of the huge mouth on Hangyeom's stomach. There’s so much else about the man to pay attention to that it completely slips Jaehan’s notice until it lolls open for a moment and he's given a glimpse of far too many jagged, serrated teeth. Only once it closes does he see the unmistakable line it leaves behind, almost like it’s an open wound.
Among all of these things that stand out to Jaehan, he thinks the thing that catches him off guard the most is the way Hangyeom carries himself. Because despite clearly being a non-human, he walks with a purpose and stride of a hunter.
It occurs to Jaehan a second later that there really isn't much of a difference between the non-humans that work for the Bureau and humans that work there. Other than their species, they're all in the same boat. Most of them have the same training and a lot of them have been through the same experiences. Differentiating between the two is only useful on paper. In practice they’re all hunters.
But to be strong enough to deal with non-humans, humans typically have to go through a lot more rigorous training. They have to build themselves up to be on par with creatures that are far more powerful than they ever will be. Like it or not, something about that learning curve always sticks around.
And that's how Hangyeom walks. Not like he's some strange, terrifying monster, but like he's a human.
Of course, this is patently ridiculous. Anyone with eyes can see that Hangyeom is not human. But Jaehan knows what he sees. He’s simply too awkward about it to ask.
Still, he makes conversation. He introduces himself a little more thoroughly, he ends up babbling about the other men he’s come to live with. He doesn't actually get anything past Hangyeom’s name out of him until they're already back at his wing of the building. And by that time, Jaehan has decided that he likes the strange non-human.
He's well aware it’s a gut feeling more than anything else. But a lot of decisions are based off of those. And there's something about Hangyeom that strikes him as being… familiar. Not that Jaehan thinks he's ever met the man before- no, he’d remember someone like Hangyeom. His bearing though, and situation he’s currently in, those seem like they might be relatable. Even if he knows nothing about Hangyeom’s story yet.
Maybe it's just that he spent so much time around other groupless hunters, but he feels like he can recognize one on sight. Even if Hangyeom isn't, at least technically, a hunter. There’s still something about him that suggests he’s adrift, and that’s something surprisingly easy to fix.
Which is why Jaehan, without hesitation, gives Hangyeom a standing invitation to come drop by sometime. Only if he wants to, he insists, waving his hands around as he says so. The non-human was down by the testing facilities, he might have all kinds of things to do. If it's an imposition, then he doesn't want to press it. But, if Hangyeom is lonely, or just bored…
Thankfully, for his sanity and perhaps also for his ego, Hangyeom agrees to drop by again at some point in the near future.
When Jaehan finally wanders his way back into the dorms, he’s beyond delighted to inform the others that he's made a new friend. Junghoon just looks up at him, raises an eyebrow, and states, “You make friends with everyone, hyung.”
“Ah, well, not intentionally but-” Giving a little shake of his head, Jaehan says, “I think everyone will like him, if he comes back.”
“As if anyone could say no to you,” Hwichan calls from one of the bedrooms.
Puffing out his cheeks for a moment, Jaehan pulls a face. “I feel like I’m being made fun of.”
“We’d never,” Jinwoo gasps, a half grin already curling his mouth.
“What’s his name?” Kevin interjects, before things can get too off the rails.
“Hangyeom,” Jaehan answers without hesitation. “He’s weird but it’s okay.”
“Eh.” Shrugging, Junghoon turns back to his book. “No weirder than us.”
That prediction doesn’t end up being entirely true. Hangyeom is… strange. Stranger than usual. And that’s saying something, considering where they currently are. The man turns out to be, by his own words- and by Junghoon’s absolutely baffled diagnosis- a sapient blood homunculus. Which, Jaehan is reliably informed, is impossible.
"I mean, it's mostly possible," Junghoon amends, as he holds out one of Hangyeom’s arms and watches as it melts and deforms between his fingers. "Obviously. People make homunculi all the time. But I've never met one that's, no offense, actually sentient."
"So you believe I’m actually a person," Hangyeom asks quietly, watching Junghoon intently with his ruddy brown eyes.
"Yeah, duh." Junghoon is almost entirely dismissive of the question. "I'm just saying, it's weird. Very…" He waves his free hand in the air, like he's searching for a word. "Unnatural? New? I don’t know, I’ve never run across anything like it.”
“And you’re the expert.” It takes Jaehan a moment to realize Hangyeom is teasing. Considering the lack of facial or vocal cues, it’s a bit difficult to tell. Thankfully, Junghoon seems to have no such problems identifying the playfulness.
“I’m as close to an expert as you’ll find,” Junghoon states without hesitation. “And I’ll bet my last blade I’ve got a hell of a lot more hands on experience than anyone working here.”
Though Hangyeom doesn’t go into detail- he hardly speaks of it at all- apparently the Bureau finds him as strange as Junghoon does. They’re running tests on him, in the hopes of gaining an understanding of why and how he exists. Obviously, they try to get more out of him about it, but he stays tight lipped and seemingly unaffected by it all.
Yechan mutters that he’d tell the Bureau to go fuck themselves if they suggested he be tested on, but Hangyeom simply says it’s fine.
“I don’t think every non-human would agree with you,” the gargoyle mutters darkly, his clawed feet curling reflexively. “Some of us are bad with cages.”
“Did they create you?” When everyone in the room stares at Hyuk, surprised, the canid just shrugs and gives an awkward twitch of his ears. “What? He’s a homunculi, someone had to make him. I thought it was a good question.”
“Alright yeah but you can’t just ask someone who created them,” Junghoon chastises, reaching over so he can elbow Hyuk in the ribs. “He’s a person too, that’s rude.”
“I think it’s like asking someone who their parents are,” Hwichan disagrees, looking between Hyuk and Junghoon before glancing at Jaehan as if he is the arbiter of this discussion. “It’s maybe a little forward but it’s not rude.”
“How about we leave whether it’s rude or not for Hangyeom to decide,” Kevin suggests, lifting his voice to be heard above the budding argument.
Slowly, everyone’s eyes turn towards Hangyeom. Shifting slightly, his strange flesh rippling under his skin, he flatly states, “The Bureau didn’t make me.”
Which, after the awkward silence that follows, is where the conversation ends.
Despite his eccentricities, Hangyeom fits in with the rest of them amazingly well. Both Hyuk and Yechan take to him almost immediately, and Kevin quickly latches onto him as well, seemingly content to make up for how quiet the man is with how quiet he isn’t. Jinwoo takes a little longer to warm up to Hangyeom, but Hwichan helps smooth everything over, for which Jaehan is very grateful for.
Oddly enough, despite this being precisely the kind of thing Junghoon used to hunt, he’s the one who attaches himself to Hangyeom the most firmly. From the moment the man walks into their dorms for the first time, he decides the homunculi is going to stick around one way or another, and that’s that. It’s to his benefit that he’s stubborn, because nothing, not even Hangyeom’s continued apprehension, is enough to deter him from making friends.
Jaehan’s not even sure if they are friends, or if Junghoon is keeping Hangyeom around like a pet, but he doesn’t question it. After all, the other hunter is the first one to get Hangyeom to actually smile, and that has to be worth something.
Though it’s slow going, Hangyeom eventually loosens up a little. He never gets any more chatty, but he starts showing up regularly. First once a week, then a couple times the next week. The next thing Jaehan knows, it’s every other day and the man is occasionally passing out on their couch overnight, even if he practically flees the next morning at the crack of dawn.
There’s still something about the man that Jaehan can’t put his finger on, but he doesn’t pry. After all, the man seems so comfortable spending time around the rest of them. He’d hate to ruin that, even just temporarily.
Hangyeom doesn't offer much in the way of an explanation for what, or more accurately how he is. He's perfectly content to let them all theorize, and he doesn't seem to take offense at even Junghoon and Hyuk’s weirdest questions, but he never gives a story of any sort for how he got like this. After a while, Jaehan starts to wonder if perhaps he doesn't know either. It would certainly help explain why he's here, getting tested on willingly.
Kevin ends up confirming that assumption, after Jaehan awkwardly asked him to after Hangyeom leaves one day.
"It's not like I wanna go behind his back or anything," Jaehan mumbles, running a hand through his hair as he stands at the end of Hyuk’s bed awkwardly. "I just don't know if he even thinks it's important enough to tell us. Or… maybe he feels bad about it? Or like we won’t care. I don't know, I just get the feeling that we need to know."
"You're worried about him." As always, Kevin sounds delighted to find an opportunity to pull apart Jaehan’s brain. And he does so in such an innocent way Jaehan can't even be mad.
"Aren't you?"
"I think I am." Putting on a serious face, Kevin gives a stout nod. "I'm definitely convinced that being around us is helping him."
Relieved to hear it, Jaehan sag slightly. "We don't need to know everything, I don't want to pry. But when it comes to the testing thing…"
Nodding like he gets it, Kevin promises to look. And what he comes back with is honestly a little concerning.
There's a lot of stuff even in the files of Hangyeom's that aren’t classified. As per Jaehan's request, Kevin doesn't go looking into any personal details, but he does confirm Jaehan's hunch that the man is here of his own volition, and, just as Hangyeom has said, is being tested on. According to the paperwork, the Bureau was delighted to have an opportunity to test on a consenting, sapient blood homunculi because it was all so complicated otherwise. Hangyeom had fallen into their lap, and for the foreseeable future, they intended to keep him there.
Based off of his recent experiences with the Bureau, Jaehan unfortunately suspects they would've run these tests even if Hangyeom wasn't so consenting.
He decidedly doesn't bring up the fact that he been looking into it, but eventually, he does poke Hangyeom more insistently about the testing. Though it's a delicate subject, he agrees with Kevin when the man says it's probably good for the non-human to talk about it. After all, this facility is enough to drive anyone crazy. And if you're stuck all day in laboratories and testing rooms while people treat you like an exciting lab rat, Jaehan suspects that process would only be accelerated.
It turns out that his suspicion that Hangyeom also has a lot of questions about his existence is spot on.
"I don't… actually know what I am." Hangyeom doesn't sigh, Jaehan's not sure the non-humans body is even capable of proper breathing, but he does make a motion like he remembers sighing in a previous life. The rise and fall of his shoulders, the slight slumping forward of his posture, the tilt of his neck. "That's why I'm here. The Bureau… They said they’d be able to tell me what I was."
Under any other circumstances, Jaehan would've found it difficult to believe that someone truly didn't know what they were. But he's been around Hangyeom long enough now to believe it. It helps that when he looked over the man's file, there was another name there. An old name. That, and details about a human.
Apparently, Hangyeom wasn't always this way. According to how he tells it, he used to be a human. A hunter, just like the rest of them. He refuses to go into gory detail about it, there are some parts he’s still cagey about, but he does tell the story of what happened to him. In slow, halting pieces.
"There was… cult activity. You know how it is. Nothing big enough to call in specialists, but it needed to be dealt with. They were saying they managed to raise something, and you know that's never good. Nothing blood magic ever comes up with is good." When he says those words, it's with a special kind of resentment. Self-hatred, Kevin has suggested to Jaehan privately. “There was a ritual…”
"And you happen to get tangled into it." It's a fair assumption to make, and it would explain a lot. "You and your…"
"Just me." Hangyeom's mouth slants bitterly. Despite how minute most of his emotions end up being, there are some that manage to sneak through. "My team, my partner… They made it out."
The rest of the story gets fuzzy. Whatever ritual the cultists have been weaving had somehow sucked Hangyeom in. When he’d woken up, he was in a new body, his memories were blurry, and everybody thought he was dead. Apparently, his old body was gone, as was his bond mark and the elemental magic he’d once been capable of. Now, the Bureau has him and is trying to figure out if he's still himself, or something else entirely.
"I'm here willingly." Hangyeom always stresses that part, especially whenever the testing gets bothersome. Painful. "My team might've encouraged me to come, but they're not keeping me here. Not technically."
"I mean," Hwichan ventures. "They took you off of your old team. I'm pretty sure that counts as keeping you here. It's not like you'd have anywhere else to go."
"But they're not locking me up. As long as they're not locking me up I'm here of my own volition." Jaehan understands why Hangyeom is so desperate to push that point. Because otherwise, what's happening to him is kind of horrifying. Every day that he's here, he's subjected to nothing but rigorous tests. Some of them are mental, but most of it is physical. Experiments and medical procedures and other things that Jaehan doesn't even have a name for. Hangyeom might do it all willingly, but that doesn't make it any less strenuous or damaging.
And even if he wasn't willing, what is he supposed to do otherwise? He can't just say no, can he? As far as anyone's able to tell, as far as the Bureau and all of its various scientists can conclude, he's a blood homunculus. Those things aren't supposed to be sapient, and they definitely aren't supposed to be benign. Blood magic is famously a force of evil. The number of people who have it and are allowed to use it with impunity is small. And none of them are allowed to raise homunculi.
Yet here Hangyeom is.
"They promised me…" As always, Hangyeom hesitates in the middle of his thought, like whatever serves as his brain is struggling to draw together memories in a coherent fashion. "After I woke up, they promised me they’d fix me. Turn me back to normal. But… do I need to be fixed?"
It's a huge question, and not one that Jaehan can easily answer. Thankfully, not everyone he spends time with is as reticent. Junghoon has absolutely no problem with loudly saying, "I mean technically, if you were human before, and you aren’t now, you're broken. But… I guess that gets into a whole discussion about whether you see being a non-human as being a problem. It seems you’re working fine as is. Sure it’s a little unconventional, but most of you is intact."
Turning a slight, wry smile on Junghoon, Hangyeom drawls, "Thanks. I wanted to be told I was broken."
Shrugging, Junghoon slaps him on the back. The action makes the mouth on Hangyeom's stomach open, and that long, worryingly human-esque tongue lolls out over sharp teeth. "Hey, I’m just telling it like I see it. Personally I like you fine the way you are. I think it's kind of cool."
"It's a little unsettling at first, but you get used to it." Hwichan’s smile as placid as ever. "If anything, I'd say Jinwoo is much more unsettling."
From where he had been at least pretending to nap, Jinwoo lurches upright. "Okay, shut the fuck up-!"
Honestly, blood homunculus or not, Hangyeom ends up fitting right in with the rest of them. Sure, he's quiet, but so were most of them when they first showed up. It's usually only with time and a certain comfort level that everybody comes out of their shell. And though the walk down to the laboratories his tests take place in is long and some might suggest not worth it, when they offer him a room in their little shared space, he eagerly moves in.
"They don't actually have permission to let you stay here," Hyuk warns, as though that's going to distract anyone from the way his tail is furiously wagging behind him. "They just make stuff up and the Bureau never calls them on it."
"Let the paper pushers come for me if they have a problem," Hangyeom decides, a rare smile gracing his face as he reaches up and ruffles Hyuk’s hair. "I'd much rather be here than sleeping down by the laboratories. It’s quieter.”
Jaehan somehow doubts that, but at least all the sounds here are friendly ones. There’s no pained screaming, or hollow, desperate sobs that you can never find the source of. At least here, they have each other.
"Well, we're happy to have you." As always, Kevin is chipper and undeterred by everything else. "I'll show you where the cafeteria is, if you haven't found it already. As well as the nearest commissary. I'm sure you’ve already mapped out the rest of the place. And if you ever need to talk to somebody–"
"I can come talk to you. Right." It’s worded dismissively, but Hangyeom smiles as he says it, like he’s genuinely thankful.
Jaehan kind of assumes that’s going to be it. Clearly Hangyeom is settling in with them, and the Bureau never comes knocking. That’s how it’s worked with the rest of his boys so why should the homunculus be any different?
But there’s always that lingering matter of the Bureau using Hangyeom as a living experiment that doesn’t sit right with any of them. Jaehan doesn’t try to intervene, the homunculus seems dead set on letting it all continue after all, but he does keep an eye on it. Just in case things get notably worse. Because they do seem to be steadily declining, with the murmured stories they get out of Hangyeom sounding increasingly concerning.
Jaehan honestly doesn’t know why the man is so willing to let the Bureau do this to him, and he has yet to hear any kind of excuse. It’s clear to him that Hangyeom is nothing more than a test subject to these people, why is he just letting it happen instead of fighting back?
It isn't until he's been around for a few weeks that Junghoon comes and seeks out Jaehan with an interesting tidbit of information that makes it all start to fall into place.
"I think… I knew him." He's got his eyebrows furrowed and a concentrated expression on his face as he says it. “I mean before he got all…" Junghoon mimes a gaping mouth somewhere near his stomach and pulls a slightly embarrassed grimace. It fades a second later. "I guess we never really worked with district groups very often, usually our team worked with regional groups, but I feel like I came across him at least a couple times."
Gesturing to the open chair in the corner of his room, which for once is not being taken up by Jinwoo, Hwichan, or a combination thereof, Jaehan gives Junghoon a serious look. "Do your memories of him… change anything?"
"No, from what I remember he was a fine hunter, I just–" Creeping into Jaehan's room, Junghoon settles onto the chair. It's not often the two of them talk one on one, but Jaehan can see how the months have helped improve Junghoon's condition. His eyes no longer look so dark. His posture is better, and there's actually some life to his movements instead of them being jerky and automatic. "I feel like I remember him being the leader of his group."
What paperwork Kevin shared with Jaehan never mentioned anything of the sort, and certainly Hangyeom has never brought it up, but Jaehan has no reason to doubt Junghoon's word. "Really?"
"Maybe my memory is faulty, but I could've sworn…" Shaking his head, the man looks up at Jaehan, a harrowed expression on his face. "Even if he wasn't, what kind of group would just dump one of their teammates here?"
"What makes you say it like that?" Even though he asked the question, Jaehan already sort of knows. Because now that Junghoon is pointing it out, the incongruity is becoming apparent. Hangyeom's really never had any visitors, hunter or otherwise, to make sure he was okay. Until their little group took him in, it seems like he's been alone. You’d think if you had a team that was still together and operating without you, they’d at least drop by.
"Hangyeom was talking about them last night," Junghoon admits, his ears turning slightly red as he does. Decidedly, Jaehan doesn't question it. "Said that they were waiting for him to be fixed. To get better. But… I don't think he's ever going to get better?" Hard lines appear on the hunter’s face. "Blood rituals like that destroy bodies. Even successful blood rituals. And the one he went through wasn’t successful, at least not in the traditional sense. Whatever he was before, it’s gone now."
Which means, Jaehan knows without being told, Hangyeom's team is never going to have a place for him again. As long as it's dependent on him being human, they're not going to want him back. And seeing as they’ve never visited, the Bureau has probably already told them Hangyeom isn’t going to get better.
“Do you think Hangyeom already knows?”
"I think Hangyeom-hyung suspects as much." Looking mildly distressed about the whole thing, Junghoon keeps reflexively rubbing at the back of his neck. "I just don't want him to keep… I don't know, chasing after something that's not gonna happen."
“Especially if it’s the reason he’s letting the Bureau experiment on him,” Jaehan continues, as the pieces finally fall into place.
“Yes,” Junghoon breathes, his shoulders sagging. “Hyung, I- He comes back with scars? I mean they go away pretty quickly, but I’ve seen them. They’ve already basically dissected him just to see what happens, and I realize he doesn’t feel things in the same way we do but…” Despite his clear exhaustion, the man’s eyes blaze. “I can’t keep watching this happen to him.”
“I know.” Jaehan gets it, he understands that worry better than he suspects Junghoon knows. “I think you need to talk to Hangyeom about it. You’re closest to him, he might be willing to listen to you where he won’t listen to us. And… maybe we try to get him to talk to Kevin. See if he can start coming to terms with his new body instead of trying to change it.”
“He just wants to go home.” Shaking his head, Junghoon’s hand drops back into his lap. “And I get it, I’ve been there, I know what it’s like. But his home is gone, and if the people on his team don’t even care enough to visit him, I don’t think they’re going to fight to get him back. Not like he’s fighting to get back to them.”
“It’s alright,” Jaehan decides firmly, putting on as brave a face as he can for Junghoon. “We’ll fight for him.”
Eyes filling with gratitude, Junghoon nods once. “Yeah, we will.”
Jaehan doesn’t follow up with Junghoon to know if he’s talked to Hangyeom about the whole thing, but he thinks he notices the slight shift in the non-human’s behavior regardless. Like he’s finally coming to terms with the fact that what’s happening to him is bad and not just a necessary evil. It brings with it a definite downswing of his mood, but Jaehan hopes it’ll facilitate the necessary mental shifts to improve overall.
Though it takes another handful of weeks for things to finally come to a head, they do keep getting worse in the meantime. Now that it's been pointed out to him, Jaehan can see more clearly how all the Bureau’s testing is getting to Hangyeom. How the increasingly invasive medical experiments are becoming tougher to stomach. It doesn't help, he’s sure, that the man is actually happy with them. They’re not putting pressure on him to get better, not like Hangyeom was putting on himself, because they've all collectively agreed he isn't broken in the first place.
Even without prompting from Jaehan, Hyuk and Yechan seem dead set on helping Hangyeom accept his new form. Obviously, neither of them are blood homunculi and therefore technically have no idea what he's going through, but they are non-humans. According to them, there are a few things about non-humans that are just universally different from a human. On top of that, there are an entirely new set of social expectations he needs to understand. And since Hangyeom is new to the whole thing, he might as well learn the ropes.
Jaehan doesn't understand a lot of the stuff they talk about, about how things like the earth’s gravitational pull, the seasons, and the moon have different effects on their biology, their moods, and other strange things about them. Hyuk speaks longingly about the forests, about the night sky, and about the unique synesthesia that comes with his incredibly heightened sense of smell. Meanwhile, Yechan talks about air currents. About what it’s like to control the natural craving for human flesh, and about the different types of skin care that are necessary for a gargoyle like him.
From there, they devolve into detailed talks about how non-humans are expected to navigate non-human spaces. There are human tics Hangyeom still possesses that Yechan is perfectly happy to point out for him. Though he’s never expected to change any of it, they do try to make him aware of how non-humans are going to react to them and why. Even though they both profess to not ever having to say any of this out loud before, Jaehan thinks they do a fine job.
At first, Hangyeom seems a little overwhelmed by it all, but after a bit he seems to accept the help. He is different now after all, he's going to have to learn eventually.
“It’s just… important not to think of things in human terms,” Hyuk finally finishes with, half sprawled into Hangyeom’s lap and tail thumping softly behind him. “Obviously you don’t have to change how you act or anything, but… your body isn’t human. It’s going to need inhuman things. Ignoring those needs will only hurt you.”
“You sound like Kevin-hyung,” Yechan states, reaching over so he can pull at one of Hyuk’s floppy ears until the canid whines loudly.
Pouting in the gargoyle’s direction, Hyuk climbs further into Hangyeom’s lap so he can get up in Yechan’s personal space. “Is that bad?”
“No,” Yechan assures him, as Hangyeom absently grabs for Hyuk’s tail and holds onto it. “It’s just weird for you to be right about something.”
As the two of them descend into bickering, Jaehan makes eye-contact with Hangyeom and offers him a smile. Much to his delight, he gets a smile right back.
In other respects, Junghoon and Jaehan actually find themselves being pretty useful to Hangyeom’s journey of self discovery. Technically, Junghoon knows more about the occult, but with Jaehan's classes, he's not far behind. At least in terms of book learning. When it comes to hands-on experience, he's woefully under-prepared. Still, they're able to answer a lot of the more scientific questions Hangyeom has about his new body.
Jaehan is able to dig up some detailed diagrams of what it looks like when you cut open a blood homunculus. Though there are perhaps a few implications about the whole thing, especially considering how the textbooks all handle it, Junghoon is much better at couching it in comfortable terms. Or at least ones that don't feel so dehumanizing.
Or denon-humanizing?
"You're just differently shaped now." Junghoon is utterly confident in this declaration. “And you don’t need to sleep. And you don't need to eat, technically. And if you do eat, usually you want to eat blood or flesh. And there’s a mouth on your stomach…"
"I thought you like the mouth on my stomach," Hangyeom teases, murky eyes lighting up.
Turning a deep shade of red, Junghoon coughs and dips his head. “Ah, well, you know… it’s got uses. That I enjoy. Given certain contexts.”
Drawing closer, half climbing into the man’s lap as he does, Hangyeom looms over Junghoon with a rare grin on his face. “Care sharing with the class those things you enjoy.”
From this angle, Junghoon looks distinctly like he’s about to be eaten and doesn’t seem to be nearly concerned enough about it. Judiciously, Jaehan decides he has elsewhere to be.
At the end of the day, he's just glad that they're able to give Hangyeom some kind of refuge here, somewhere to get away from the rest of his tiresome interactions with the Bureau. From the little he’ll say, it sounds like the experiments have become less about fixing him and more openly about just finding out what makes him tick. Short of killing him, the Bureau doesn't seem to have many limitations on what they're willing to do. And they’re not afraid of letting Hangyeom know it.
Hangyeom grins and bears it, up to a certain point. He comes back with any number of stitches, and arms that have clear injection sites scattered around his elbows. Those fade quickly enough, sometimes hardly lasting an hour before sinking back into his malleable body. Other times, however, the effects seem to be more permanent. There are days the man comes to them practically glowing with energy, filled to the brim with magic. Sometimes he shows up with runes tattooed into his skin in various inks, and those can last a while before finally fading. Other days, the only sign that something has happened to him is the way he hardly manages to drag himself back to their dorms before collapsing onto the couch, drained.
It isn't until he comes back to them shaking and struggling uselessly to form words that Jaehan finally decides it's time to step in.
Apparently, the Bureau had been trying to figure out what kind of chemical compounds could dissolve Hangyeom. They’d stumbled across a couple that seemed to be likely candidates, and then had proceeded to dunk him in them. Just to see.
"I'm not going back." Hangyeom's voice is small and tremulous, a far cry from his usual calm tone. "I can't- you can't make me. They can't make me. I'm here of my own volition, they can't do this to me. I’m- I’m my own person, this is torture."
“You’re going to be okay, it’s going to be okay.” Hwichan and Yechan both are desperately trying to calm him, the latter wrapping a comforting wing around Hangyeom’s shoulder while the former whispers quiet words to him. "It's fine, there aren’t any labs up here. We're not gonna do that to you.”
"We have to do something." It's rare that Jaehan sees Junghoon get this worked up. Usually, the man is impressively even keeled, perhaps not patient, but at least levelheaded in stressful situations. "He's hurt, hyung. They're trying to kill him."
Jaehan's first instinct is to insist that they're not trying to kill him, but he realizes that what they're actually doing is probably worse. Hangyeom is not only one of their live test subjects, but he’s also a blood homunculus cognizant enough to listen to instructions. As long as they can keep him docile and willing to cooperate, that's less of a strain it puts on them in terms of keeping him contained.
But he’s not just a test subject, at least not to their group he isn't. He's another non-human, with theoretically just as many rights as the rest of them. Sure, the Bureau has a habit of keeping strange and dangerous things locked up in their depths, but those are typically either violent criminals or creatures without enough sapience to upset any regulations or laws. Hangyeom is neither of those things. His only crime is that of existing.
Unfortunately, Jaehan is cripplingly aware of how little he can do in this situation. "You… can stay here. You don't have to show up to the testing, we're not going to force you to go if you don’t want to.”
Jinwoo is already shaking his hand, watching worriedly from the corner. "No, if you've got business here, they'll drag you to where you’re supposed to be if you don't show up. That's what they did to me with therapy, and I'm technically here of my own volition as well."
Letting out a strained breath through his teeth, Jaehan looks at Junghoon. Easily, he's able to pick up on the ill-restrained panic in the man's eyes. "I will fight them." Junghoon is entirely serious, Jaehan can see the determination in the set of his jaw. “If someone comes here and tries to take him, I will kill them.”
"Committing more crimes isn't going to help." Stepping in the middle of the situation, Kevin hold up his hands, a strange expression on his face. "Look, let’s all just take a deep breath. Hangyeom-hyung can probably get away with staying here for a day or two and not showing up to the labs. They won't send anyone after him immediately. In the meantime, I… I'll see what kind of paperwork I can turn up."
"Paperwork isn't going to fucking fix-" Junghoon begins only for Kevin to stop him with a hand on his arm.
"Paperwork alone isn't going to fix this, but I think as long as Jaehan-hyung is on board…" Kevin turns as he says that, giving Jaehan a meaningful look.
He doesn't even need to look over in Hangyeom’s direction, Jaehan has been on board for about a month now. "Of course, anything I can do."
Nodding firmly, Kevin continues, "Then I should be able to work something out. You guys forget that I technically still work for them. I may have been hunter at one point, but I'm on their payroll right now, not the NHII's."
Though it’s difficult to get Junghoon to stand down, eventually he does. It helps that Hyuk wraps his arms around the hunter and refuses to let him go until he sits down. Which does happen, after a certain amount of fruitless struggling.
"You can trust Kevin," he promises, pushing his fluffy head up underneath Junghoon's jaw. "He's not gonna let us down. And Jaehan-hyung isn't going to let us down either."
Jaehan is admittedly a little skeptical about the whole thing, though he keeps it to himself. He’s not sure how the seven of them are supposed to be more powerful than the full might of the Bureau, even with Kevin’s help. Surely the Bureau will do what they want to matter what. But Jaehan does his best not to stress about it, and eventually, Kevin pulls through. Sooner than he expected. In fact, the next evening he's coming in with a manila envelope and a sheaf of paperwork that he’s a little reticent about explaining.
“Ah, you see, what I'm doing here technically isn't… Well it's not legal.” He only starts explaining after Jaehan insistently presses him for details. "It's also kind of not… It’s a lot of things. But it should still work, as long as nobody digs into it too deeply. There’s only so much supporting paperwork I’m able to file without the right stamps.”
"What the hell am I signing?" Despite the question, Jaehan is already flipping through the paperwork, looking for dotted lines to put his name on, his ballpoint pen clicking absently against the table as he searches.
"Look, you’re welcome to read the whole thing yourself, but this basically makes it so that you’re Hangyeom-hyung's leader." When Jaehan stares at Kevin like he's grown another head, he holds up his hands. "I know, I know. The NHII never appointed you as a leader of any team. That's kind of the illegal part about it. Oh, and the part where we’re forging these documents. But it's alright! Nobody's going to look into it enough to figure that out. Not once I’ve got everything uploaded to the right databases.”
"So… what, he’ll show up as one of my teammates?" The idea is vaguely terrifying to Jaehan. He's not a leader, he's never gone through training to be one, and he's not sure he's prepared for the consequences if the Bureau calls his bluff. "How is that supposed to help?"
Taking a deep breath, Kevin patiently explains, "The reason they're able to experiment on Hangyeom-hyung with impunity is because technically the only people they needed consent from was him and his employers." Rifling through Jaehan’s stack of papers, Kevin pulls one out. "Hangyeom-hyung used to be the leader of his group, right? So he was the highest authority over himself according to that power structure. Which means there were a lot less steps for them to do what they're doing. This is basically just… adding another step."
Squinting at Kevin, Jaehan tentatively returns to signing things. "So if I’m somehow in charge of him, and he's my subordinate…"
"To continue the experiments, they’d need your consent as well." Firmly, Kevin nods. "I know, it's an archaic system and usually it’s pretty pointless. In this case, however, I think we need to use it to our advantage."
Squinting at some of the wording on the paper Kevin holds, Jaehan pulls a face. "Honestly, I've never heard of something like this. I thought any decisions like this would just come down to the hunter and the Bureau."
"Usually does." Sliding his borrowed piece of paperwork back in Jaehan's direction, Kevin folds his hands on the table and watches him intently. "Nobody but…” He visibly resists the urge to say paper pushers. “Bookworms usually know about these kinds of bylaws. They're not exactly used very often, but it's supposed to be another check and balance. The kind of thing to keep the Bureau in check."
“Why can’t Hangyeom just revoke his consent?” Jaehan questions, furrowing his brows. “If it’s that easy-”
“Since he owed the Bureau time, he didn’t really get as much of a say in things as the paperwork suggests.” Grimacing, Kevin shrugs. “The moment he signed off on leaving his team, he lost any ability to say no. Just goes to show how important it is to read things before you put a signature on them.”
Jaehan is still tempted to complain. He can see so many holes in this plan that it's practically Swiss cheese, but if Kevin is certain, he's not going to argue. Not with Hangyeom’s safety on the line.
"What will the scientists do once their current favorite experiment vanishes?"
Kevin’s laugh is practically manic. "Favorite? You know that's not true. They’ve got hundreds of experiments down there, hyung. They're not even going to blink if one goes missing. They’ll just move on to the next thing.”
As much as Jaehan wants to resist and say that they’d notice if Hangyeom went missing, so surely everyone else would too, he knows Kevin is right. He's heard tales of what goes on underneath this facility. In laboratories nobody but those with top-secret clearance are allowed to see. Hangyeom, as interesting as his condition is, is hardly a drop in the bucket.
Pursing his lips, Jaehan just gives a soft, “Hopefully,” before going back to his paperwork.
Thankfully, Kevin seems to have been telling the truth about paperwork doing the trick. According to the official records now kept by the Bureau, Jaehan is Hangyeom's leader, and therefore if he says that they aren't experimenting on the non-human, then they won’t. Not until they have his signature on paper. And he's certainly not going to give it, not as long as he has a choice.
Of course, there's always a chance they realize the paperwork is fake, and it all becomes null and void. But until then, they decided to permanently keep Hangyeom down on their side of the facility and not let him out of their sight. A task Junghoon rises to admirably and perhaps a little possessively, not that anyone, including Hangyeom, denies him the right.
Once again, everything settles down and goes back to normal.
Before, Jaehan would never have thought of this as being normal, but at this point, he's convinced. This is his group, and now there's even paperwork to prove it. At some point, Jinwoo jokes, he might as well just forge some paperwork for the rest of them too. Let's see what the Bureau does about that, he says with a grin on his face.
Openly, Jaehan says it’s a terrible idea.
Privately though, he thinks he’d like that.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Not everyone who passes through the Bureau temporarily is someone new. Occasionally, you get familiar faces. Good faces. Hunters that you want to remember, and can’t help but hope remember you in turn.
Jaehan's been here so long that he's kind of forgotten what life was like outside of this liminal cage. He gets to spend time outside now, which is nice, he manages an outing about once every few days. Whether it's just him, or he's leading a troop of the others along behind him, but it's not the same. There's not much freedom involved. No jobs to go on, no towns to walk around in. Not even any wilderness to explore.
Unless you count the endless hallways as wilderness, in which case, he's got that in spades.
No, outside is just sunlight and a breeze on his face. It’s no more a connection to the outside world than the reduced paychecks depositing into his account every two weeks or breaking into the kitchen to eat real food. These are memories of what life had been like, but they aren’t powerful enough to be a substitute
For the most part, he still feels incredibly cut off from who he was.
One thing Jaehan thinks he misses most from his old life were the interactions with other hunters. Not that he doesn't get some of it, obviously, most of the people he spends his time with are or were hunters of the sort. Even Kevin, strange man that he is, was a hunter at one point. So it's not that. It must, Jaehan reasons, be something else.
He thinks it comes down to the variety. Of meeting people that he only got to see once in a while and talking shop with them. Here, shut away in the Bureau, he's lost that. He has a team, yes, but that's different. There's a word for it, he's deliberately avoiding using it, but he is willing to say that it's not the same as talking to other teams.
Maybe saying those interactions have been entirely taken away is incorrect. There are still chances to interact with other hunters, plenty of them in fact. On any given day the cafeteria will have dozens of people he’s never met before and likely will never meet again wandering through it. Technically, that counts.
Some days, Jaehan entirely agrees that it does. Being a hunter is special in that it gives him something in common with people from all around the world. He can sit down next to any one of them, no matter how old, young, or differently shaped, and have something to talk about. Make no mistake, he values that sense of community.
But when he was on a regional team, things were different. There were new faces, sure, but he recognized those new faces. They were the same district and local groups he’d come to know and respect. Sure there were times he couldn’t remember their names, or who was who’s partner, but there had still been a certain comfort level to them.
What he's trying to say is, after being stuck so long in this facility, he’s craving some new familiar faces.
Not everyone has forgotten his team, even though they disbanded almost a year ago now. Sometimes, when he's in the cafeteria or walking from one place the other, he'll run into a hunter who recognizes him and asks how things are. Some of them want to know what happened to him, more want to know what happened to his partner. Still others have stories to tell him of the outside world. Almost like correspondence from another planet, for how disconnected he feels from it all.
Jaehan tends to get a lot of interesting questions around here, because apparently, he's got insider information. He doesn't think of it like that, but he supposes from a certain perspective they’re right. He’s here, at the heart of the NHII- and at least one of the major organs of the Bureau. He knows a thing or two because he seen a thing or two.
Sometimes he’s asked about regulation changes that are being rolled out. Other times people want to know about supply chain issues and other clerical errors. Jaehan thinks he’s been asked almost every question under the sun about the downright inexplicable decisions the Bureau makes on a daily basis. What scares him is that he actually has answers some of the time.
Almost everyone has asked him about what happened to Jonghyeon’s team. Those are the questions he hates the most. Every time he answers them, he can feel the weight and impact of the incident itself fading within his mind.
So it's refreshing when someone shows up who doesn't make a single mention of it.
Admittedly, it's been a while since Jaehan has talked to Chan. The man had kind of dropped off of his radar a while ago. They’d both been through the Academy at a similar point, though Jaehan had ended up leaving it before he did. Jaehan remembers hearing things about him after he left though, about him being bounced around as the Bureau tried to decide exactly what to do with him, but it seems like in the time that he’s been gone, Chan has settled down.
"You know, I'm a leader now." Chan’s the sort of person who is easy to talk to. He's got a friendly, open smile, and bright, sincerely optimistic eyes, a rarity among hunters. Nothing against most of them, Jaehan gets it, but it's still nice to see someone who hasn't been broken down by the system. "I mean, I went through officer training forever ago, but I just figured after those first two assignments they’d never do anything with it."
"I can imagine. What’s it like?" Keeping pace beside the other hunter easily, Jaehan cracks a half smile. "What species of non-human did they assign to you? What kind of team?"
Laughing at the barrage of questions, Chan holds up his hands. "Well, it's not much of a team yet. I’ve just got one hunter under me right now, no non-humans." He pulls a face, his nose scrunching up slightly as he thinks. "I guess… we’re a pretty standard regional team. We don't really have anything in particular we do, we're just supposed to be covering a sliver of Central Europe that’s getting missed by the teams around us. Though, it's difficult to cover much with just two of us."
Jaehan doesn't think he's ever heard of a team quite that small before, but he supposes his own situation isn't exactly normal anymore either. According to the paperwork, he is only got one team member too, and they aren't even legally his. "Hey, as long as it's working out, then there’s probably no point worrying about it. Seriously, good for you. I know you used to talk about how you wanted your own team."
“Sure took them long enough, but yeah, on paper at least I’ve got it.” He’s downplaying it, but Jaehan sees the glimmer of pride in Chan’s eyes and he thinks the guy deserves it. Leadership suits him.
“It’s probably a nice way to ease into it, only having one other person to worry about,” Jaehan hums, as the two of them push by a gaggle of paper pushers.
Chan grimaces slightly, like he's thinking of something mildly unpleasant. "Yeah well… hopefully we start getting along better. I like the kid, but he's a lot. He seemed pretty steady when we first met, but this is his first time being on a team and it shows."
"Who do you have?" It's a bit of a pointless question, he realizes a second after he asks it, and Chan snorts like he thought the same thing. Jaehan isn't likely to recognize any names. Occasionally, he gets the chance to keep up with some of the new recruits if they’re of any importance, but for the most part, he doesn't know what goes on at the Academy. And Chan could have basically anyone.
So it's a bit of a surprise when Chan gives him a half grin and replies, "Does the name Changbin ring a bell?"
“Gun kid?”
Chan openly laughs. “Yeah, gun kid.”
Jaehan's eyebrows shoot up. "He broke a couple records, right?"
He’s never met Changbin before, but the name is a little infamous at the moment. Hwichan tends towards ranged weapons when he can get his hands on them, so Jaehan has a little more knowledge than most about the other marksmen within the NHII. At least, the notable ones. Someone breaking records is considered pretty important, considering how long most of them stand unchallenged. Admittedly, he's never heard of anybody using a gun before- even Hwichan tends to favor a bow, even if it is a relatively high tech one compared to some of the instruments of death other hunters use- but everybody has what they're good at.
"I mean, technically he broke about five, but the Academy didn't count them because he was using a firearm." Chan’s expressions settles back into a happy smile. "He's really good at what he does, and I think he knows it. Thankfully, I'm not dealing with arrogance, I'm just dealing with…" He waves a hand and sighs. "I don't know if he's suited to team activities. But that's how most young hunters are. I know I was the same way."
"Best of luck to you." As their pace slows slightly, becoming less of a powerwalk and more of an amble, Jaehan finds himself smiling. "I've… had some experience of my own with trying to contain other hunters. I’m discovering it’s an acquired skill."
Chan's eyebrows shoot up, and a look of delight crosses his face. "Oh, so they promoted you too? Congratulations!"
Jaehan waves his hands quickly, letting out an embarrassed laugh as he does. "No, it's nothing official. It's just… I guess you could say there are a lot of people the Bureau forgets and I’ve ended up with a handful of them."
"But they treat you like a leader," Chan guesses, a knowing look on his face.
Jaehan wants to disagree out of habit, but he'd be lying. Those boys have been treating him like a surrogate leader for a while now, and he's just about done pretending otherwise. "I guess you could say that."
Studying him for a moment, Chan’s face pinches in thought. "You've got people who chose you; look out for them. I know it's probably not the same here, but that kind of trust… I don't know, it sounds important."
Jaehan hasn't really thought about it in quite that way, but when Chan says it out loud, it seems almost laughably simple. He has been trusted with something precious. It's his job now to try and defend it as best he can.
"They're good kids," he says quietly, his voice a little faint. "They- they don't deserve to be stuck here."
"I mean, neither do you."
It's nice to hear someone say it out loud. Jaehan thinks it often enough, he’s said it to every single one of his boys. He knows that if he sat down with Kevin and actually had a therapy session, the man would probably tell him the same. But to hear it from Chan, someone he remembers training beside, someone he respects, it means something different.
Jaehan dips his head. “Thank you.”
Curiously, Chan prods, "How long have you been off the field?"
It takes Jaehan a moment to find the answer. It's been so long that he stopped thinking of it in terms of concrete time. Now it’s simply ‘before the Bureau’ and then ‘after’. Still, he forces himself to fish up an answer. "I think… a year now."
Slowly, it hits him how long that is, to just be sitting here doing nothing. No matter how much he’s filled his time with, the hopelessness of it all crawls under his skin.
"Honestly, I don't think they were going to let me leave." Giving a harsh, barking laugh, Jaehan stares up at the ceiling. At the fluorescent strip lighting that flickers slightly as they pass beneath it. "They've got me here on… Continuing education or something, but it never ends. Every time I get through one stack of coursework, they hand me another. I don't even know why they want me to bother anymore, clearly I’m the only one taking it seriously.”
"They aren’t going to keep you here." When Jaehan gives him a look, Chan just laughs and shrugs his shoulders. "What, I'm just stating the obvious. If they were never going to send you back out on the field, they wouldn't take the time to teach you anything. I would know, I did a shit ton of continuing education, and look at me now; I've got my own team."
Jaehan never knew that. Chan had always been so good at the Academy, he’d always assumed that whatever the man ended up doing afterward would be important and productive. To hear that he might've gone through something similar to this… It somehow soothes the little voice in the back of Jaehan's head that he hadn't realized was bothering him.
"Yeah," he mutters, lips parting slightly as he stares at the back of Chan's curly head of hair. "I guess when you put it like that."
"Exactly." Chan's got a smile that you can hear in his voice, even if he can't see his face. It's the sort of thing that warms even the cold, sterile hallways of the Bureau. "So cheer up. If you’ve been here that long, it’ll probably happen sooner rather than later."
As he hurries to draw level with Chan once more, Jaehan feels a question burn at the tip of his tongue. It's not something he's ever talked to anyone else about. Actually, it's one of those things that he's been desperately trying to keep in his own head, for fear it might give somebody else the wrong impression. With Chan here, it seems like the perfect time to bring it up. This man won’t be the one to judge him, he can get away with speaking his mind.
"How–" Jaehan clears his throat. "How did you know you were ready to be a leader?"
Considering the question for a bit longer than is comforting, Chan finally lets out a little laugh, before turning in Jaehan's direction. "This is… probably where you want me to tell you there's actually an answer."
Already knowing what's coming, but too committed to back out now, Jaehan admits, "That would be nice."
Dipping his head, Chan's eyes. "Well, this is also where I tell you that there isn’t one. Or a definite time. One day you're not a leader, the next day you have people relying on you. Not just in an emotional sense, like in a very real and tangible sense." Jaehan hears the slight strain in the man's voice. "You're never really ready."
"You weren't?"
Shrugging, Chan turns to him, a haggard look in his tired eyes. "I mean, I was, theoretically. I had the training, I had my name on the paperwork… I'd been waiting to be put in charge of something for a while, so I wasn't not ready. But at the same time–"
In that moment, Jaehan can see it in his eyes. The uncertainty that still lingers there, the eternal question of ‘am I doing this right?'. Distantly, Jaehan wonders if that look had ever been in his leader’s eyes, and if he’d just been too naïve to notice.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Chan dips his head. "That makes it sound like it's all scary, it's not. Just because you're not ready doesn't mean you aren't ready."
"That doesn't make any sense," Jaehan says with a wane chuckle. But even as he says it, he thinks it just might. "Do you mean like… What your brain’s telling you isn't always right?"
"Yeah, something like that." Some of the easy confidence returning to him, Chan rolls his shoulders. "It's more a combination of a lot of things. Sometimes, my brain is telling me a lot of things that don't make sense, so I trust my gut. And other times, I get overwhelmed, in which case I have to rationalize it. I've only got one person under me right now and sometimes, I wonder how I'm going to manage more. But the first step is trusting that I can manage it. Hopefully, I can fake it ‘til I make it, right?"
"Hopefully." Thinking of his boys back in their makeshift little dorm, Jaehan's lips purse tightly. "I don't think the Bureau would be stupid enough to make me a leader, not really. But… I'm worried the people around me have already made that decision, and I’m not going to get a say in it." Something heavy lodges in the back of his throat, it takes a couple swallows to make it go away. "I don't want to let them down."
"Here's the thing-” Chan’s eyes are kind. "If they’ve already chosen you, then you aren't going to let them down. This isn't the government pushing strangers on you, these are people who already trust you enough to want you to lead them. Which means you're probably doing a pretty good job of it without even trying." Though they probably shouldn't, Chan's words leave an unmistakable warmth in Jaehan's stomach.
He hadn’t known how much he needed to hear that until just now.
Letting out a breath, Jaehan gives a minute shake of his head. "It's really going to suck when the Bureau pulls us apart. If they pull us apart."
"If." Chan repeats the word with utter certainty. “Never just allow yourself to accept the worst case scenario. It's not going to do you or the rest of your team any good. Especially not now." The man’s smile leaves lines around his eyes. "Besides, the Bureau works in mysterious ways."
"That makes them sound like they’re some sort of God," Jaehan says with a snort. "Trust me, I've been here long enough, I know better."
Laughing, the sound shaking his entire upper body, Chan grins. "We're hunters, we’ve got to believe there's something greater than ourselves, right? Keeps us humble."
Wryly, Jaehan admits, "You’re right, there.”
"I know I am." Slapping Jaehan on the shoulder, Chan continues, "And I know I'm right about you. You're going to do great, just be patient with yourself."
Though patience is definitely one of the harder virtues to come by, Jaehan tries to take it to heart. He never used to be good at it, but after all of this waiting in the halls of the Bureau, he thinks he's gotten a lot better. He's no longer quite so desperate to get to whatever is coming next, instead he's discovered the virtues of sitting back and waiting for life to come to him.
For a moment, he allows himself to hope that whatever it brings will be good.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
“Happy one year, hyung."
Looking up at Jinwoo in confusion, Jaehan stares straight at the other man for a long minute, trying to figure out where this is coming from. "Happy one year… to what?" His first thought is whatever they've got going on between the two of them, but it's not like they ever put a name to it. Besides, he feels like he’d remember something as important as an anniversary.
Jinwoo grins and rolls forward on the bed, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight. Maybe, that look is also just a little mischievous, like he knows exactly where Jaehan's mind took him at first. "Happy one year to being here."
Oh. He's been here for a year. One year of doing homework in these cursed hallways and wondering when he's going to escape. One year of only seeing the sun out of windows, and never even visiting the towns surrounding the facility. One year of hell.
One year of having the closest he may ever come to his own team. His own group of hunters and non-humans he cares about, possibly more than his life.
"Happy one year,” Jaehan echoes, his lips twitching.
"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Junghoon and Hangyeom-hyung made you a cake." Mouth twitching, a grin appearing bit by bit, Jinwoo's eyelids droop. "They had to fight the kitchen staff about it. Turns out, they’ll let you in if you ask nicely enough, but they’re a bit upset about how much we’ve been breaking in. That aside, I don't know if I’d eat a cake they made, it might not be edible."
Laughing at that, Jaehan looks down at his homework before setting it aside. He's getting close to the end of the course work the Bureau assigned him in the past two months, and they have yet to assign him more. Part of him thinks he should be excited about that fact, the rest of him is worried about what the future’s going to bring. Maybe, it’ll just be something more complex. "If they make me a cake, you know I have to eat it."
Contorting his face into an exaggerated grimace, Jinwoo mutters, "I'd rather if you didn’t get food poisoning, actually."
"If I had to trust any of us in the kitchen," Jaehan decides, as he carefully places his textbook on his bedside table. "I'd probably trust those two. I can’t imagine I’d ever trust you."
Gasping dramatically, Jinwoo falls backwards over the duvet, a hand pressed to his forehead. “Hyung, and I just had my one year anniversary of being here too. I can't believe you'd say something so hurtful on such a special day."
"Am I wrong?"
Jinwoo’s lips twitch up in a grin. "Not at all."
Leaning back against his headboard, Jaehan loosely crosses his legs and stares at the ceiling. At the same suspicious water stains that have been there since he first moved into this wing of the facility. It's amazing how little everything has changed. Actually, he thinks the only thing that’s different is himself. "I really thought I'd be somewhere else by now."
"Same," Jinwoo admits easily, wriggling up the mattress until he's able to stretch out next to Jaehan. "But it's not all bad, right?"
Not in the slightest, Jaehan would say it's actually pretty good.
Looking down at Jinwoo, he reaches over and ruffles a man's hair. It's gotten untenably long at this point, they should figure out how to get it cut, that or just do it themselves. But it looks good on him, long, and soft, and falling into his eyes.
“Yeah, not bad at all.”
One year.
Considering where he started, what a hell of a year it's been.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Chapter 3: Reassignment
Chapter Text
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
As with all things, life waits until everything seems okay before getting truly terrible.
It comes entirely without warning, Jaehan couldn't have predicted it, he doesn't think any of the rest of them could have either. One moment, everything is how it's been for months now, and the next it’s all being thrown into disarray.
The only thing that heralds it is Jinwoo and Yechan being absent from breakfast.
"Was Jinwoo here with you last night?" Jaehan asks Hwichan tentatively as he pokes his head around the man’s doorway, keeping his voice down so he doesn't worry anyone else. It's not the first time that Jinwoo has been missing in action early in the morning, sometimes he just wanders off. It is unusual for Yechan not to be there, however. He's not exactly the type to deviate from his routine.
But Hwichan is shaking his head, his brows furrowing slightly as he does. "No, I think he went back to his room. He was up late."
He hadn't been in his room when Jaehan had knocked on the door before making the trip down to the cafeteria, but he doesn't say that. Still, the concern must be playing across his face because Hwichan quickly suggests, "Maybe he's in Yechan's room?"
Pursing his lips, Jaehan mumbles, "Maybe…"
"Something wrong, hyung?" Glancing over his shoulder where Hyuk is peeking around the corner of his own doorway, Jaehan watches the canid’s ears go from alert to folded back across his head. "You… You're making a face. You smell concerned."
"It's nothing, it's just-" Shaking his head, Jaehan forces a tired smile. "I'm sure it'll all be fine."
But it isn't. Jinwoo and Yechan are gone for the entire morning and they don't show up for lunch either. When they get back to their rooms after spending some time outside, Hwichan makes a point of checking to see if Jinwoo and Yechan are hiding somewhere, but he doesn't turn up anything. At this point, Jaehan is truly concerned, but he tries not to show it.
"Maybe the Bureau needed them for something. You know how it is." They all do, they’ve all gotten little slips of paper under their doors while they sleep, with no way of knowing how those papers got there. They all receive strange summons and they know better than to ignore them. Maybe it's the same for Yechan and Jinwoo. "They’ll be back later."
“I'd like them back now," Junghoon decides, crossing his arms. "I wish they’d at least told one of us where they were going."
"Do you know where they are?" Hangyeom asks Kevin softly, his typically flat expression marred by the downturn at the corners of his lips.
Hunching his shoulder slightly, Kevin admits, "The Bureau… doesn't tell me as much as they used to. I think I'm too much of a hunter for them." Which doesn't bode well at all, considering how paper pushers traditionally treat hunters, but if no one else is going to say, then Jaehan won’t either.
"It's probably just some sort of test," Hwichan finally reasons, sitting up a little straighter on the couch. "You know how much the Bureau likes their tests. Jinwoo and Yechannie will be back later."
But they aren't. And as the hours tick on, the worry surrounding the rest of them increases. It's three PM, they've been missing since before the rest of them woke up, what could the Bureau need with them that has to take so long? What if something terrible has happened?
What if they're actually gone?
No one repeats any of these questions, but they’ve all been asked at least once. In different sorts of tones, with various kinds of nervous glances. It's clear everyone is trying not to panic, but it's not working great. Jaehan doesn't blame them, it's the Bureau, they don't exactly still inspire trust.
"Look," Jaehan finally decides, after watching the rest of the group worry and fuss for hours on end. "If they don't get back by five, I'll go looking for them. I’ll… ask around, figure out who took them, figure out where they are now. And I'll bring them back."
"We're obviously helping, hyung." Junghoon's mouth is a tight line. "If they're in danger… Or hurt-"
"They're not going to be in danger, Junghoon." Patting the man's elbow, Kevin coaxes him back down to the couch. "Technically, we’re still within the Bureau. Anything that happens in here is happening on their orders. It's not like they've been kidnapped."
But it feels like such a slim comfort. Because thanks to Hangyeom, they're all too aware of what actually goes on in laboratories beneath this place. Not that Jinwoo or even Yechan could possibly provide much research for the Bureau, but the possibility is always there.
No one’s ever told them why they’re still here, after all…
Understandably, they’re all incredibly relieved when Jinwoo and Yechan reappear and stumble through the door at four forty-seven in the evening.
Both of them look bedraggled. Actually, that's probably an understatement. The two of them look vaguely like they've been dragged through hell. Jinwoo's hair is an absolute disaster, Yechan's usually shiny scales look dull. Both of them have drawn expressions, like they've been actively doing things since morning until just now.
Immediately, the rest of them are jumping to their feet and coaxing the two boys towards places to sit. Junghoon and Hangyeom are both worrying after Yechan, fixing his hair and asking where he was and if he's all right. Meanwhile, Jaehan doesn't question the way Jinwoo collapses into his arms.
"What happened," he asked, trying his best to keep his voice gentle, even though part of him wants to shake Jinwoo until the answers fall out. "We didn't know where you went, are you alright?"
"They just had to wait, didn't they?" Unexpectedly, Jinwoo sounds furious. He's clutching Jaehan's shirt in a vice-like grip and gritting his teeth so hard Jaehan swears he hears the man's jaw creaking. "They just had to wait until I was happy, until we were happy. Like they just wanted things to be good so it could all come crashing down again, right?"
"Woah, hey." Holding out his hands, Kevin puts on his therapist voice. "From the top, what happened?"
"I'll tell you what happened." Struggling away from Junghoon and Hangyeom, Yechan rips open the buttons of his shirt, sending a couple flying in his haste. At once, the room goes unnaturally quiet.
Finally, it's Hyuk who breaks the silence. "That's a bond mark."
"It's a fresh bond mark," Yechan spits, before wilting slightly when Jinwoo visibly flinches. "No, hyung, it's not you–"
"No– no I know it's not me. It's just-" Looking up at Jaehan, Jinwoo’s bottom lip trembles slightly before he forces himself to scowl. Like being angry will make this easier. "They paired us up together."
Jaehan half expects the room to erupt into chaos at the announcement. Because it’s something to yell about, isn’t it? Paring them up? After all this time? After the Bureau has left them here to rot for long enough that they no longer see it as a bad thing and have instead just accepted it as their lot in life? It’s almost laughable in how cruel it is, how callous.
They could have done this at any point in the past? They could have actually told a few of them what their next assignments were going to be. The Bureau has all the cards, they just have chosen not to share them. Revealing their hand now feels spiteful. One more boot to the ribs. Almost like they caught all of them being happy and needed to quell that before it could go too far.
In that second, Jaehan wants to yell. He wants to throw something. He wants to find the person who rubber stamped the paperwork that okayed this and demand an answer that isn’t a variation of that’s what we were told to do.
He wants someone to blame for the awful, clawing feeling that’s struggling to get out of his throat the longer he stands here.
Instead, all he has is Jinwoo in his arms, and a weight sinking to the pit of his stomach as he realizes what this means. What the Bureau is going to do to his little family, simply because they can.
"The two of you…?" Hwichan's voice is tentative. Jaehan can hear the way he’s struggling to maintain his calm. "Isn't– isn't that a good thing? It's not like they're trying to pull you apart or–”
"It means they’re going to reassign us!" Jinwoo's voice is sharp and jagged. "It means- it means that this is it. They're gonna take the two of us away, they're gonna put us somewhere else, and we're never-" He sucks in a heavy breath. "They're going to take us away."
The words sit there, crouched and shivering like an ugly thing.
Yechan's wings droop, and he looks up mournfully at Jaehan. "I don't want to leave."
It's such a soft admission, but it breaks Jaehan's heart. Because Yechan is looking to him for an answer. Actually, he thinks they're all looking to him for an answer. At the moment there are too many sad eyes trained on him, all waiting for him to say something that makes this better. Or at least not quite as shitty as it so clearly is.
Jaehan doesn't have anything. He's just as upset and lost as they are.
But he can't say that, can he? Maybe at one point, when it was just him and Jinwoo and maybe Kevin and Junghoon and Hyuk, he could be honest when he didn't know. Because at that point, nobody was relying on him. He didn't have all these other men looking up to him, expecting answers. And if not answers then at least reassurance.
So he doesn’t let them see that he doesn’t know. Instead, he forces himself to know and he hopes desperately that they can't tell the difference.
"What… " He draws a deep breath. "What did they tell you?"
Jinwoo doesn't seem to be in a place to answer, so Yechan does it for him. Taking a moment to compose himself, the gargoyle sits up a little straighter on the worn couch, his claws digging in to the already abused cushions. "They said we'd get our orders soon."
Okay, not great. Foreboding, sure, but not informative in the slightest. Jaehan kind of wants to collapse into the chair behind him and disassociate, but he figures he can do that later. In the privacy of his own room.
Here, he just gives a firm nod. "So panicking right now isn't going to help. I know we want to, I know it's the easiest thing to do, but…" He tightens the arm he has around Jinwoo. “This isn’t a death sentence, and you’ll have us around to help work you through the bond sickness.” That’s the sensible thing to say, he can agree with the words coming out of his own mouth even if they feel foreign on his tongue. "The two of you are still here for now."
Shaking his head, Jinwoo stumbles back. "How can you just… say that? They're going to put us on another team." The anger on his face morphs several times before settling on misery. "I don't want another team. I want all of you!"
Drawing forward, Hwichan catches the man's arm. “We know that, Jinnie. We don't expect you to want another team. We're not asking that of either of you." Looking up at Jaehan, Hwichan insists, voice as level as he can manage, "We just want to enjoy the time we have… right, hyung?"
Staring at Jaehan for a long moment, Jinwoo finally sniffles and turns towards Hwichan. Feeling a bit like he’s somehow done something wrong, even though he knows he hasn't, Jaehan just stands there, helpless. Everyone is still staring at him, but he doesn't have the right answer. And he definitely doesn't have a comforting one.
"At least the two of you already know each other." Hangyeom's voice is soft, and he accompanies it by running a hand between Yechan's wings. "At least once you do get transferred, you won't be alone, even without us.”
"And we’ll still be friends." Hyuk says the words firmly, without an inch of room to disagree. "We'll come visit you, or you can come visit us. And-" his ears flatten but resolutely he presses ahead. "And if the Bureau plans on reassigning all of us, then we'll just have to come up with an excuse for our groups to meet."
The full scope of the implications to the situation hadn’t fully registered until that moment, Jaehan but as he hears it, he realizes that the canid is right. They’re all getting reassigned, aren’t they? Jinwoo and Yechan might be the first, but they certainly won't be the last. It's only a matter of time before the Bureau finds places for all of them, and ships them off one by one.
Suddenly, Jaehan is struck with a horrible thought.
What's worse? Being the ones who are leaving, or the few who are left behind?
Yechan draws in what’s probably supposed to be a firm breath, but it sounds like the precursor to a sob. Jinwoo doesn't even bother staying, he just pulls himself out of Hwichan's arms and stumbles down their little hallway, probably to his room. There's the sound of a door slamming, but no one moves. From the couch, Yechan lets out a rough, guttural sound, and presses his face into Hangyeom’s shoulder.
Desperately, Jaehan wants to say that it's okay, but it isn't. Even if, logically, they'll still be friends and they’ll still see each other, it won't be the same. This was a special moment in time. A brief instance where the Bureau didn't decide everything for them and they got to decide for themselves. As stupid as that might sound, as foolhardy and juvenile and unprofessional as that might be, it had meant something.
Distantly, Jaehan remembers a conversation he had with Jinwoo. About family, and about the Bureau choosing it for you. He remembers how much the idea had horrified him and he wonders, insofar as he can, if this has become Jinwoo’s family? If the seven of them have finally become important enough to be considered something like that.
He's not sure if he’d rather it be true or false. On one hand, Jinwoo has become extremely important to him. On the other, that connection is the reason the man is hurting, and he doesn't want to be the one making it worse. Maybe, it would have been better if they were just… incidental colleagues, and not this.
"How long do you think we have?" Junghoon's voice is soft, his expression carefully flat. "A few days… Months?"
"This is the Bureau," Kevin mumbles, his shoulder sagging. “It could be next year."
Jaehan almost says that he hopes it is, but he restrains himself at the last second. The faces of everybody around him says it just fine. All of them are hoping for as much time as possible, whether they want to admit it or not.
“Maybe…" Feeling like he's about to make a promise he can't keep, Jaehan bites his tongue for a moment before continuing. "Maybe I can talk to them.”
But he's already getting head shaking from half of the people in the room, and the rest don't look hopeful either. "You don't need to do that, hyung." Hangyeom is still patting Yechan’s back, his eyes averted as he speaks. "It'll just bring more attention to us. I'd rather… I'd rather be ignored."
As he catches the look on Kevin's face, Jaehan realizes that Hangyeom is right. Considering the man is only being protected from further experimentation by the Bureau not looking into his paperwork too hard, it would be a stupid move to draw attention to it. Just because he doesn't want to see Yechan and Jinwoo go doesn't mean he can put the rest of them in danger. He's got to stay strong.
For as long as he's here. For as long as he’s their leader.
“I'll go talk to Jinwoo." Dipping his head slightly, Jaehan looks at the rest of them and firmly insists, "I expect to see all of your dinner. I know things aren't great right now, but that's not an excuse to not look after yourself."
From around the room, he gets murmurs of ‘yes hyung', and ‘if you say so’, and he decides to take that as good enough. He didn't expect enthusiasm, he probably won't get it for a while. If ever again.
But he’s still going to look out for them. Even if it’s a fight the whole way.
Jinwoo ends up being in Jaehan's room. He kind of expected the man might be, but it's confirmed when his is the only door that’s shut. Quietly, he slips in and stares at the lump of blankets on his bed that’s distinctly Jinwoo sized. His first instinct is to offer what amounts to meaningless comfort, but at the last second, he bites it back and just settles at the foot of the bed.
“Hey.”
Without preamble, Jinwoo mutters, "Fuck off."
I figured… "No, I'm sorry. You're stuck with me." Even a few months ago, Jaehan would never have said something similar. He'd already been fighting enough with the concept that he was unwanted, saying it out loud would have just made it worse. But now, too late, he thinks he gets it. Entirely, with all of its good parts and its downsides.
After a certain amount of admittedly amusing grumbling, Jinwoo huffs and pokes his head out of the blankets. Studying him, Jaehan can see how much the day has worn on him. It's the slight unfocus of his eyes, and the exhaustion at the corners of his mouth. It’s the tangles in his hair, and the listless way his expression lags behind whatever is going through his head.
Gently, Jaehan peels the blankets back a little more and pulls Jinwoo forward.
"Can I see it?" It might be the wrong thing to ask. He doesn't even consider that until it's already out of his mouth, but like so many other things, he decides to commit. He said it, now he has to follow through.
Thankfully, it doesn't seem to upset Jinwoo anymore than he already is. If anything, he relaxes slightly at the question.
Haltingly, the younger man tugs off his jacket before pulling at the edges of his ratty T-shirt. It's actually one of Hwichan’s, Jaehan recognizes the design. Whoever’s it is, Jinwoo works it up and over his head until he’s sitting there in front of Jaehan half naked and just a little pathetic.
The fresh bond mark is, like all fresh bond marks, ugly. The flesh around it is seared, the violant of the ink is still deep and pulsing, leaking excess magic. Jaehan is easily able to trace the whirls of Yechan's fingerprint, as well as the claw mark that accidentally ended up being included. Still, Jaehan finds the picture oddly settling.
"You know, if it were up to me, I’d have paired you up with him too." Gently, he lifts a hand and traces it over the inflamed skin around the mark. He's careful not to touch the bond itself, it looks like it's still painful, but it's hard to keep his hands to himself entirely. "You and Yechan work well together. It's not a bad match."
Reaching out, Jinwoo covers Jaehan's hand with his own, but doesn't try to remove it. “I- I'm not upset about the bond. I’m upset about what it means, hyung."
Twisting his wrist, Jaehan catches Jinwoo's fingers in his own. Squeezing them, he softly says, "I know."
For a moment, they stay like that. Hand in hand, not talking, hardly even breathing. Staring at each other, but never making eye-contact, just letting the weight of the day crash over them. Understandably, it's a lot. If Jaehan could, he'd take all of it. From every single one of the boys in the dorm. Just so they didn’t have to suffer.
"I don't want to leave you." Jinwoo says the words like he's mildly horrified by the realization. Like he's been avoiding saying it so it wouldn't hurt, and now it’s too late. "I don't wanna leave anyone, but you, and Hwichan-hyung… Fuck, I don't know."
Though he shouldn't, Jaehan says the words they’re both thinking. Because someone has to say them, before they entirely poison the air around them.
"We're like family.”
Knuckling his eyes with his free hand, Jinwoo curses under his breath in at least three different languages before switching back to one Jaehan can understand. "I told myself I wouldn't– it's stupid, I'm not doing this again. I can't do this again."
"We're not going anywhere." Jaehan knows it's an impossible promise, but he still leans into Jinwoo’s space to make it. His eyes are wide, imploring. "I'm not leaving you behind. Not you, or Yechan. They can reassign you, but that doesn't- it doesn't change anything."
Expression crumbling, Jinwoo breathes, “It changes everything."
He's not sure what possesses him to do it in that moment. Maybe it’s the look on the other man's face, maybe it's the emotions swimming through the air. It could be something else entirely. Whatever it is, Jaehan still leans forward. He still crosses that gap and presses their lips together. Careful and sweet, like if he goes too fast they'll both simply shatter.
Like always, Jinwoo melts into the kiss. Every bit as willing as the first one, maybe more desperate with time. He doesn't try to talk, he doesn't try to fight it. He just lets Jaehan take over for a moment, with a level of implicit trust that Jaehan never fully grasped until just that moment. Until when he was on the brink of losing it.
Pulling back slightly, Jaehan's mouth opens, the words he's had in his throat are suddenly on the tip of his tongue. Just itching to be set free. “Jinwoo, I–"
"Don't say it," Jinwoo begs, his lips pursed together and his eyes full of a longing that Jaehan can feel echoed in his very soul. "Not now, not when I'm just going to lose it. Please, it'll just make it worse."
Even with that plea, Jaehan almost says the words. He wants to say that his feelings aren’t going away, even if their paths do diverge, but… he thinks he knows better. If nothing else, he's not cruel. It's going to be bad enough as it is, he doesn't need to make it worse.
So instead, he just slowly pushes Jinwoo back against his pillows, and looms over him. Just stares into his eyes, and hopes that's enough. Enough to satisfy the vicious creature in his chest that can’t decide if it wants to tear him apart, or tear apart the rest of the world.
When Jinwoo reaches for him, he doesn't resist. When they come together, he gives in. It's easier this way, he tells himself.
Distantly, he prays that's true.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
When it’s Hwichan's turn, they get just about as much warning as with Jinwoo and Yechan.
At least he has the good sense not to disappear without telling everybody. He comes out of his room with the little yellow slip and looks directly at Jaehan as he says, “No one else here got one, it's just me."
Jaehan thinks he’s supposed to reassure Hwichan, tell him it's okay, tell him that they'll accept his new partner and that this doesn’t change a thing. Instead, he grabs for the slip of paper and reads it, as if that's going to magically change the words on it. It doesn't, the Bureau’s little printed slip is clear.
Office 135-C
11:AM
Partner Assignment
Leaning around Jaehan’s elbow, Jinwoo quietly mumbles, "At least they had the courtesy to tell you what you're going there for." His voice is a little hollow. It's been getting better, he and Yechan have been partners for two weeks now. Their bond sickness has long since faded and they still haven't gone anywhere. But still, melancholy lingers around the corners of his mood. "We just got the office number.”
"They knew you'd run away otherwise," Yechan points out, looming up behind the man and putting a hand on Jinwoo's head. He's joking, but it falls flat at the end as he hesitates. As he realizes what he’s saying.
"You're not scary enough to run away from," Jinwoo quips back, and for a brief moment, his eyes flare with life. They dim quickly as Hwichan takes back the little slip and tucks it into his pocket.
"I'm already going to be late." He’s still staring at Jaehan, like he's waiting for instructions of some sort. Ridiculous as the thought is, Jaehan wonders if it might be correct at some level. "I should go down and find out what it's about… I should meet my new partner."
Sighing, Jaehan reaches forward and pulls the shorter man against his shoulder. "Yeah," he states, sadness lingering at the edges of his voice. "You should."
Exhaling, Hwichan sags into Jaehan's hold for a moment. Like this, Jaehan can feel the apprehension in Hwichan's body, the frayed nerves. The only thing holding him together right now is stress, but it’s thick enough to seem almost like strength.
"Haven't even taken my final demonology exam yet." Hwichan’s voice is faint. "They can't send me back out to the field yet."
Obviously, they can, but why say that out loud? "They're not going to." Jaehan's grip on Hwichan tightens. "It's fine, you’re going to come back with your new partner, and you're both going to eat dinner with us, and you'll introduce us to whoever it is."
"Right." Injecting some manic strength into his voice, Hwichan makes a point of regaining his balance and pulling away slightly from Jaehan. "I'm sure we’ll love them. We get along with everybody. I mean, look at us, we even get along with Jinwoo!"
"Hey!" Jinwoo jabs a finger in Hwichan's direction, only scowling more when the man bursts into laughter. "I could say the same thing about you!”
"But you won’t," Hwichan teases, leaning into Jinwoo's finger until it’s poking him in the chest. "Because clearly, I am much more pleasant to be around."
Letting out a cry of indignation, Jinwoo looks up at Jaehan with big eyes, as though he’s supposed to arbitrate this conversation. Holding his hands up in the air, he shakes his head and says, “Don't look at me, that's between you and him."
"That's him siding with me and trying to be nice about it," Hwichan chirps.
Shoving him lightly, Jinwoo grumbles, "Go get your new partner, hyung. Stop saying dumb shit.”
Despite the fairly pleasant sendoff, the rest of them are subdued for the rest of the day. Jaehan keeps to his books, trying and failing to focus on even a single word. Junghoon starts playing a game of cards with Hyuk and Hangyeom, but it's unclear if anybody is winning, or if anybody is paying attention in the first place. Sometimes, it just looks like they're passing around cards to do something with their hands. Yechan and Jinwoo are curled up on the couch, the latter with the gargoyle’s tail in his lap and a distant look in his eyes.
Predictably, Kevin is the only one of them who’s trying to raise their spirits.
"It's going to be okay," he insists, talking to no one in particular. Maybe, he's just talking to himself. "We've always liked new people. And I'm sure it can't be anybody too bad."
"Do you think they're going to put him on a regional team this time?" Junghoon's voice is empty, his eyes unfocused as he stares at the cards in his hands. "They've had him studying demonology, but that might just be because they wanted to keep him busy. Or maybe it’s got something to do with where he’s headed."
"I think a regional team sounds nice," Yechan mumbles softly, watching as Jinwoo picks at his scales. "Sounds… interesting."
"Same continent, do you think?" Shaking himself slightly from his daze, Junghoon turns to look at Yechan before his eyes slowly drift to Jaehan. "Or do you think we're not going to get that lucky."
“Don't say it like that," Kevin admonishes, reaching over from where he’s pacing to swat at Junghoon's arm. "It's not a matter of luck, and besides, they haven't even mentioned reassigning him. This summons was just for a new partner."
“But we all know where this is leading, right?" Jinwoo's voice is sharp in the small room. "They're not doing this because they're keeping us here. You don't get a partner unless they have a purpose for you. We're getting reassigned."
"They’re just dragging it out." Hyuk's voice is unmentionably small. “They already know where they're going to put us, I bet they've known for a while. They're just taking their time because they can't be assed to put the paperwork together all at once."
Leaning away from his card game, Hangyeom stretches, the movement causing the mouth on his torso to sag open. "That's how they are." His unsettling eyes shift around, before finally fixing on Jaehan. Like he's the one that needs to be spoken to. "I remember we had a couple people retire on us, and when we asked for replacements, it took them three years to get it all sorted out. It shouldn't have even been that hard? I'm from a district team, you can grab new recruits out of the Academy at a dime a dozen for positions like those.”
"You know the Bureau-" Kevin begins, before he snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head."Actually, no, Hangyeom-hyung is right. They take forever because bureaucracy is slow and they don't care." His shoulders slump. “I don’t know why I bother defending them."
"You know, at this point, I hope they just do it." Practically vibrating where he sits, Jinwoo's eyes sweep over the room, his brows tightly furrowed over angry eyes. "Stop dragging this shit out, if you're going to send us places, then send us. I don't want to wait here anymore. I don't want to have to deal with- with this.”
Rustling his leathery wings, Yechan tips forward, until his curved horns are butting into the side of Jinwoo's head. "I'd rather it be quick too. Actually, I wish they’d ripped the Band-Aid off when I first showed up. I mean, you were already here when I arrived, why wait?"
Glancing over at Jaehan, something that seems to be everybody's favorite pastime today, Jinwoo gives Yechan’s tail a pat. "Yeah, same, buddy. Probably would've been easier that way."
It probably would've been easier. Isn't that all they’ve been saying the past few weeks. It would've been easier if the Bureau had made these decisions ages ago, when their little group didn't have something else to wish for. It would've been easier if Jinwoo and Yechan had been paired up the moment Yechan arrived. It would've been easier if they’d all been informed when they were going to be reassigned, so they’d have something to look forward to. Something to convince them not to get attached to anybody at the Bureau too strongly.
Hell, Jaehan’s starting to think it would've been easier if he’d been sent back to the fucking Academy.
All of that being said, however-
"I'm glad it wasn’t easier."
Jaehan's words surprise everyone in the room, especially himself. But as soon as he’s said it, he knows that he means it. With his whole heart, as stupid as that sounds. "I'm glad I did it this way, because it means I met all of you. And it means I'm going to get to meet Hwichan’s new partner. And hopefully it means I'll get to meet the rest of your new partners." Jaehan's voice is surprisingly firm, and the turmoil in his chest settles with it. Like he’s tricking himself into feeling better. "It sucks, but I don't regret a moment of it."
"I wish you were our leader, hyung." Hyuk speaks without reservation, his tail softly thumping against the couch cushions behind him. "I think you would've made a good leader. I still think you would.”
It might be pointless to say, but Jaehan still smiles. Unreservedly, genuinely, putting all of the messy thoughts and feelings he has into that single expression. "I think you guys would've made a good team."
Oddly enough, the admission seems to do the trick in lightening everyone’s spirits. Tentatively, there are smiles from around the room, and the mood picks up. Junghoon, Hyuk, and Hangyeom actually start playing their card game, Yechan and Kevin end up making small talk that isn't depressing and topical. Jinwoo ends up leaning between Jaehan's legs and watching him as he studies.
By the time evening rolls around, it could've been just another day.
It's not, there's a certain buzz in the air as they all head down to the cafeteria, but it clears up the moment Hyuk is able to spot Hwichan in the dinner crowd.
Hwichan's new partner is, for want a better word, a little terrifying. In the same vein as Yechan’s heavy demonic and draconic influences, this new non-human is very clearly descended from a demon of some sort. It takes Jaehan a moment to identify what he's looking at, but by the time he’s sat down, he's able to peg it.
"Hellhound," he states, to no one in particular.
Settling down across the table from Jaehan, Hwichan pokes a finger in his direction and corrects, "Taedong."
Meeting Hwichan’s eyes, Jaehan silently asks if everything went alright, if this new partner of his is a good one. Hwichan’s answering look just as clearly says that everything is fine and they’ll talk about it later. Which is good enough for Jaehan if it’s good enough for the other hunter.
“Sorry, just an observation,” he offers the new arrival, dipping his head. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Huffing out a breath, Taedong's leathery dog ears twitch before he says, "Well you're right, I am a hellhound. And yeah, the name’s Taedong."
Giving the non-human a once over, taking in the bony tail, the spines, the long claws, the vestigial set of eyes, and of course the teeth, Jaehan offers Taedong a wide smile. "Well, my name is Jaehan. It's nice to meet you."
As he sort of expected, the rest of the group warms up to him after that.
Taedong is quiet- weren't they all when they first arrived- but Jaehan doesn't think that's going to be much of a problem. Already, he can see the rest of the group trying to fit him in. He ends up squished between Yechan and Hangyeom, the former curious to see another demon hybrid around, and the latter seeming to know a surprising amount about hellhounds. Eventually even Hyuk joins in, clearly delighted to have someone else around who is marginally dog shaped. Hwichan meanwhile keeps the attention of the other side of the table, telling Jinwoo and Junghoon about his experience with being bonded as well as some extra details about Taedong.
"He's in for assault charges technically,” Hwichan reveals, gesturing at the thick metal collar that’s secured around Taedong's neck. "The other guy was fine but you know how it is.”
“Eh, less embarrassing than what I’ve seen some people in for,” Jinwoo announces, head on Hwichan’s shoulder and mouth full of food. “I saw someone doing time for tax fraud once. Imagine having to be a hunter because you didn’t do your fucking taxes.”
“I can’t.” When Hwichan laughs, the sound is genuine and it soothes Jaehan’s heart. “This is my first enforced partner that I've had, actually. I'm not too sure what to expect."
Junghoon rolls his shoulders and watches as three of the four non-humans across the table from them burst out laughing while Taedong dips his head, embarrassed. "My last partner was enforced. It's not that different, once you get down to it. The Bureau’s standards are pretty rigorous, usually if they're here, they want to be here."
"Yeah but I swear, the amount of extra paperwork…" Shaking his head, Hwichan lifts his right hand and wiggles it, making a comical noise of complaint. "My fingers were cramping up by the end of it. Have they ever considered streamlining the process?"
“This is the Bureau, "Jinwoo points out, slapping Hwichan on the thigh. "If we left them alone for too long, they’d make it more complicated."
Nibbling at his food, watching the rest of the group, Jaehan glances over at Kevin, the only other person who isn’t talking. He’s also keeping an eye on things, his eyes flicking between Taedong and Hwichan like he’s trying to determine something without being intrusive. Of course, the moment the therapist feels Jaehan’s eyes, he startles back to himself and makes eye-contact.
As he sort of expects, the man makes a point of giving him two goofy thumbs up before going back to eating.
Maybe though, Jaehan should be taking everyone’s easy expressions and happy voices to heart. Even if this is him watching his group get pulled away from him, at least it seems like they're going to be okay afterward. He trusts them to handle themselves, after all, and he thinks he could be convinced to trust even their newest arrival. He's going to miss them, but he's glad to have them while he does.
It’s a difficult way of looking at things, Jaehan doesn't pretend like he's happy about it, but he does try to keep himself from being openly depressed. For everyone else's sake, if not his own. To a certain degree, though the other men here are definitely the willful sort, they seem to take direction from him. If he can make this seem like a less painful process than it actually is, maybe they'll be able to handle it better.
Besides, Taedong's arrival ends up bringing them a sort of distraction. Though they likely won't have long to get to know the man, they certainly make a concerted effort to fully induct him into the friend group. Jinwoo offers the man his rarely used room, Yechan takes to sleeping in there with him when Hwichan isn’t around, just so he isn’t lonely, and Hyuk insists on dragging him everywhere, whether he has any reason to go with the canid or not.
Everyone just accepts Taedong, not as a herald of the end like he is, but as part of the group. It helps the man wants to fit in, and actively participates in whatever nonsense Junghoon and Jinwoo cook up without a second thought, but the transition is still easier than Jaehan could have ever hoped for. He’s new, but he’s theirs. Or, perhaps more accurately, Hwichan’s.
“He’s… Really nice,” Taedong mumbles, one night when Jaehan manages to catch him alone after dinner. “I- You and him have something going on, don’t you?”
Noting the flush that’s risen to the hellhound’s dark skin, Jaehan easily waves the question off. “Yeah, we do. Him and Jinwoo too, but it’s alright.” Laughing he nudges the man with his shoulder. “If this is you trying to ask permission to… do stuff with him, don’t bother. He’s your partner. We get it.”
Sagging slightly, looking undeniably relieved, Taedong’s bony tail lashes behind him. “That’s what Yechan said, and I wanted to believe him, but you’re the leader here, and I can smell you all over Hwichan-hyung. I didn’t want to-”
“You’re not going to.” Trying to skate over the ‘leader’ remark, Jaehan gives the man a deliberately reassuring look. “As long as Hwichan is on board with whatever is going on, then I’m happy too.”
Flushing, if possible, even darker, Taedong quietly says, “He invited me to watch him and Jinwoo.”
Drawing in a breath, Jaehan searches for anything to follow that up with and comes up empty. Sometimes, it amazes him how utterly shameless some non-humans can be. You’d think there would be a filter, but no, you’d be dead wrong.
“Yeah,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. “Sounds like he’s already interested. You uh- you have fun with that.”
Which of course gets him perked ears and a small innocent smile that almost makes up for everything else.
Needless to say, Taedong is fitting in.
During a rare moment of privacy together, Hwichan actually takes the time to tell Jaehan a little bit about why Taedong is here in the first place, since that’s one story he has yet to hear. Obviously they all know he’s an enforced case, and that he had a partner before, but there’s little word on how he actually ended up back at the Bureau. Certainly the hellhound himself hasn’t opened up about it, not that Jaehan has pried particularly deep.
It only takes Hwichan a couple hours too few of sleep to get him talking, though Jaehan suspects it wouldn’t have even taken that much if he’d pried harder. "But you didn't hear it from me," the man murmurs before he starts, a wry smile taking over his face. "You know how it is, the personal stories are always sensitive."
Apparently, Taedong is in the same boat as the rest of them at the moment, more or less. At this point, Jaehan sort of expected it, but the confirmation is… Nice isn't really the word for it. Validating, perhaps, to be able to recognize another wayward soul so quickly. According to Hwichan, the hellhound had been on a district team previous to this, but his old partner had died, leaving him in a difficult position of being legally required to be bonded to someone, but having no backup hunter to quickly partner up with.
"Apparently his old group tried to keep him," Hwichan admits, his eyes slightly unfocused as he stares up at Jaehan’s bedroom ceiling. "They actually liked him enough to attempt to hide him away from the Bureau’s wrathful eye. They kept juggling the lock stones and forging reports while they tried to get someone to replace his old hunter. But… well."
"But it didn't last?"
"Of course it didn’t last." Barking out a short laugh, Hwichan raises his hand to his bond mark and rubs over it. "It never lasts. Sure, they managed a year and a half, but this is the Bureau we're talking about. The only thing that stopped them from snapping him up immediately was all the paperwork."
"Yeah, I’ve found that tends to get in their way." The closer they draw to their group’s inevitable split, the more Jaehan thinks about that very thing. About how Hangyeom in particular is going to be left without any sort of protection from the Bureau once he’s gone. About how people like Junghoon and Hyuk might just end up in an endless cycle of trauma therapy, with no discernible way out.
Hwichan must be able to see those negative thoughts on his face, because he makes a point of reaching out and slinging an arm over Jaehan's waist. "It's gonna be alright, hyung. I promise." When Jaehan gives him an admittedly doubtful look, Hwichan’s smile falters. "It's not going to be great, we're all going to miss each other, but this isn't going to end as badly as I think we're worried it will."
"Void, I hope you're right." Turning into Hwichan's body heat, Jaehan sighs quietly. "I'm glad you have a new partner. Really I am. He seems like a good guy and I know you wanted out of here just as much as the rest of us. I just wish I didn't have to-"
"Be like this?" Hwichan finishes, a knowing twist to his lips. "Yeah, me too."
There really isn't anything more to say about it, so Jaehan doesn't try. He doesn't run himself in circles, he doesn’t let himself spiral even though he feels on the precipice of it. He doesn't make this any more painful than it needs to be.
He just takes what he can get, and takes it one day at a time. Even though it feels like he's gone back to the beginning of his stay at the Bureau, where every day brought a fresh helping of misery with no end in sight, Jaehan means it when he says he wouldn't trade it for anything. This year has been one of his best. If it had to hurt before he got there, and now after it’s begun to fade, then he supposes he can live with that.
Besides, it's not like he's been given another choice.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
"You're telling me you've been here for a year and you never knew how to leave?"
Kevin is practically screeching, a rare sight that would be funny if he weren't on the receiving end of it. As it is, Jaehan currently has his shoulders hunched and his head hanging in shame as he gets chewed out by the much shorter man. "I swear to the void, that would've been the first thing I asked people. Did you think that somehow I didn't know how to leave?"
"In our defense, by the time Jinwoo and I met you, it wasn't our main priority?" Cringing away from the man's pointed glare, Jaehan pulls an embarrassed face. "Besides, it's not like we had an abundance of vehicles to do anything with once we were out. So when you think about it like that, there's not much for us to–"
"I just assumed you were staying inside because you wanted to." Running a hand through the disaster his hair has already become, Kevin lets out a high-pitched whine through his nose."I'll be the first to admit, we don't exactly have an abundance of green areas around here, but I could have at least shown you the front door. Did you just never go looking?"
"I went looking," Jinwoo admits, raising a hand. He shrinks back when Kevin turns a wild-eyed expression on him. "But… eventually I gave up. And besides, your hallways like… move every day. It's hard to find anything.”
"They do not-!" Voice going squeaky, Kevin shakes his head. "No. I've had it with you guys. You might not have a car, but I do. We're going somewhere. All of us."
"All of us as in…" Jaehan gestures to the three of them. "Or all of us as in-"
"All of us." Kevin plants his hands on his hips firmly. "The Autumnal Equinox is coming up, and apparently you haven't seen the outside world in a year. And I'm starting to feel like a terrible therapist for never having found this out." He starts pacing back-and-forth as he talks, his hand already twitching up towards his scalp again. "And besides, you're probably all going to be reassigned soon, so we might as well have fun before that happens."
Jaehan can't argue with that, but he is a little apprehensive of the idea of everyone leaving the facility at once. Especially without any of it being approved- though technically he supposed they don’t need approval in the first place. It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but Kevin is set on it, and Jinwoo is practically vibrating with excitement at the very thought.
"Do they actually have any of the usual festivals around here?" His eyes are glittering, an acceptable level of mischief already filling them. "I know not everyone celebrates the equinoxes but…"
"This is basically a Bureau-controlled town, so yes, they celebrate it." Sighing, Kevin ceases his pacing in front of Jinwoo so he can reach up and ruffle the man's hair. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. I would've helped you find the outdoors ages ago. Hell, I’d have gotten you all a vehicle to use too."
Letting out loud sounds of complaint, Jinwoo bats the man away from his face. "It seemed like a stupid thing to say at the time." Catching one of Kevin’s hands, he looks at the former hunter imploringly. "I felt like a dumbass not being able to figure out something as simple as getting out."
Kevin gives a short huff, and instinctively starts straightening the man’s clothes and setting his hair back into place. "It's fine, we’ll all go out together." Turning on Jaehan, he jabs a finger in his direction. "I'm declaring it a group therapy appointment. Hell, I can probably even get the Bureau to pay for most of our food if I file it as a work expense."
Which, as far as Jaehan can tell, is how they all end up outside of the Bureau’s main facility for the first time in a year, all dressed in their best approximation of casual clothes and wandering around the local city’s brightly colored autumn festival.
It was actually fairly easy to get out of the Bureau’s massive trap of a building, once someone was there to show Jaehan how to do it. Retrospectively, he’s come surprisingly close to getting out of the facility many times before, there were just a few doors in his way that he always assumed were locked. That, and a small maze of offices and water coolers and whirring printers sitting out in hallways that Jaehan had always been a little apprehensive to try and navigate. But with Kevin there, it’d been an easy enough matter to worm their way out of the Bureau and back into the real world.
Cramming them all into one tiny car had been… a little less simple. Jinwoo had ended up in Jaehan's lap, and Hwichan had to awkwardly crouch on the center console. He doesn’t want to even talk about the backseat- Hyuk had ended up stuffed in the trunk- but eventually they’d managed. Like it was some sort of clown car, they'd all packed in and trundled down to the local city that served as infrastructure for the Bureau’s hulking facility, and after finding parking, they all piled out into the festival itself.
Honestly, Jaehan is having a pretty good time.
The Autumnal Equinox is one of those things that, though not everybody celebrates seeing as it was originally a fae holiday, a lot of people have quasi-adopted it. Originally, he thinks it paid respect to the fae queen of autumn, but it's long since lost that particular aspect. No, if anything, it's been co-opted by those humans who think fae culture might as well be everyone’s culture if it’s convenient for it to be, and the rest is just vaguely harvest themed paraphernalia.
It's not his favorite holiday, he's always been a fan of the Summer Solstice himself, but it's alright. It’s definitely a good excuse to get up and out of the Bureau for once. Give everybody a moment to stretch their legs and eat real food. Specifically food that wasn’t either stolen or all vaguely tastes like questionably sourced supplements.
So far, Jaehan’s managed to convince them all to loosely stay together, though he imagines that's not going to last forever. Taedong at least has the sense to stay as close to Hwichan as he can, considering the collar around his neck. But the rest of them are already drifting, too focused on the bright lights, exciting sounds and delicious smells of the places around them to remember to stay with the party. Junghoon, Hangyeom, and Yechan have already managed to wander off, though Jaehan is able to track them thanks to the fact that Yechan easily rises head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd. Hyuk is currently giving Kevin a piggyback ride, and that's not going to end well. Jinwoo at least is sticking by Jaehan's side, but he imagines that's only going to last until the man finds something interesting to go look at.
"Do you think they’ll have fireworks?" Hwichan asks, looking up in Jaehan's direction as he does. He's got one of Taedong's hands clasped in his own, probably to keep the hybrid from wandering away. It's almost amusing, considering the sheer difference in size between the two of them. "I haven't seen fireworks in ages."
"Maybe, though…" Glancing behind them in the direction of the Bureau, which sits miles away on what from here looks almost like a pedestal of raised earth and concrete, Jaehan pulls a face. "We are pretty close to the facility. They might have weird regulations about that sort of thing."
That sounds like the Bureau, he thinks. They’d regulate everything if they could find a decent excuse to do so.
"I want a turkey leg," Jinwoo decides, standing up a little straighter as he does in an attempt to see over the crowd. It does hilariously little to help. "I don't think I've had really good meat since… fuck. Before I came to the Bureau at least."
From where he’s still being precariously carried by Hyuk, Kevin calls, "They have a bit of everything here. Actually, I'd argue they have everything . We are near a major facility, after all."
He does make a decent point. People from everywhere come to visit and work at these facilities, and with that they bring just a bit of their culture along with them. The result are these insane patchwork cities where no one species is dominant and everything sort of blends. It’s kind of inevitable, considering how many kinds of humans and non-humans the organization employs. A little disappointing, Jaehan thinks, that this diversity ends the moment you make your way into the facility itself. But you win some and you lose some.
Actually, he's kind of impressed by how big the city is. He’d always been aware of the fact there was something outside the facility, he’d seen it when he arrived, but he’s never spent enough time near the Bureau’s organs of power to really experience one. It’s mildly overwhelming, but Jaehan likes to say it’s in a good way.
According to Kevin, the place is less of one cohesive city and more a weird ring that's been built around the Bureau. Something to take care of people who work there, to ensure that they're able to settle down and never have to go far for amenities. Before this, he always assumed they would be smaller, less a destination and more just somewhere people live so they can all go to work at the same place in the morning.
He's realizing now how wrong he was.
"Do you think they have funnel cake?" Hyuk almost throws Kevin off his back with the force of his wagging tail. So far, he’s managed to hit no fewer than seventeen strangers with it. "They've got nothing sweet in the cafeteria, nothing good anyways. I want funnel cake, Kev, can we get funnel cake?”
Laughing, clinging tightly to Hyuk's neck so he doesn't fall off, Kevin tosses a look behind him at Jaehan before he says, “If you want funnel cakes, I guess you can lead the way.”
They're gone before Jaehan can so much as blink, with Hyuk effortlessly tearing through the crowds, seemingly unhampered by the weight on his back. Laughing at the sight, Hwichan swings his and Taedong's linked hands before cheekily asking, "Do you want cake too?"
Giving him a blank look for a long moment, Taedong's ears twitch, before he asks, "Do you think they serve it with raw meat?" There's just enough innocent hope in those big orange eyes that Jaehan absolutely believes the man thinks raw meat cakes are possible.
"You know," Jinwoo begins, ducking around to Taedong's other side so he can sling an arm– or attempt to- around the much taller man’s shoulders. "I bet if we go looking, we’ll find my turkey leg in the same place as your raw meat. What do you say?"
Taedong definitely doesn't wag his tail quite like Hyuk does, but his mouth does drop open, and a hungry look comes over his face. "I think I'd like that." His slightly elongated tongue passes over his bottom lip, like a dog licking its chops. "I think I'd really like that."
"Well, you heard him," Hwichan decides, looking between his new partner and Jinwoo with a grin. “Looks like we've got a vendor to find."
Jaehan should probably follow along after them, if only to keep them out of trouble, and he almost does, but in the end, he finds Hwichan, Jinwoo and Taedong all escaping his line of sight within a couple minutes. For reasons he can't quite articulate, once he realizes they’re getting away from him, he purposefully lags behind, letting the sights and sounds of the festival around him fill his senses.
It's a nice evening. Still warm enough that he's dressed down to shorts and a T-shirt, but not so hot that it feels oppressive or punishing. The sun has already dipped past the horizon, and though there are any number of people constantly ebbing and flowing around him, Jaehan manages to find a moment of peace.
This is what his life is going to be going back to, soon. No more sterile walls, no more endless, winding hallways. No more getting lost trying to find testing rooms, or being talked in circles by paper pushers who seem to exist only to frustrate him. No, he'll be back out in society. Containing threats, dealing with non-humans, and returning to that feeling of being part of a team.
That last part isn't something he's really lost, or particularly wants any more of, but… he supposes he should try to look forward to it. In whatever way he can. In a way, the Bureau is giving him an opportunity to peacefully come to terms with his future. Instead of yanking it all out from under him in a handful of days like when he lost his old team, he's instead getting some time to cope. Or at least, he’s getting time to think about trying.
He thinks, all things considered, he's not doing too badly at that. Maybe he could be doing better, but it’s a difficult thing, losing people you care about. Even just couching the matter in those terms makes it almost too vast an issue to deal with.
So he tries not to. Instead, he focuses on the festival. On actually finding some food, and maybe keeping at least some of his boys in his line of sight. Thankfully, between the nine of them, they have a few cell phones to go around, but he’s still always a little worried. He supposes that's fine though. He's allowed to be.
It’s what any leader would do…
One tightly packed street of stalls and shops takes him to another, and then to another. The bright oranges and reds and rich browns flash around him like a multicolored dream, and when he catches the eye of what looks like a local, off-duty hunter and her partner, he offers them both smiles.
Hopefully, wherever his team has disappeared off to, they’re having just as good a time as he is. If not better. Actually, considering the constant buzz of his thoughts, hopefully better.
Far above him, the sun continues to dip lower, until it's entirely obscured behind the hill the Bureau’s facility sits on. As it vanishes, lights are turned on and lanterns are lit, bathing everything in an even more festive glow. And still Jaehan ambles, picking at the finger food he's managed to acquire while he lets the sounds of the evening drift around him.
He remembers at one point when he walked somewhere in public, people would give him a certain amount of… space. Of course, usually he was going out in at least partial uniform, but he distinctly remembers the feeling. The knowledge that he was a hunter and the knowledge that everyone else knew that as well. Now, in a town primarily populated by paper pushers and people who see hunters every day, he's just another face in the crowd.
If anything, the sensation yanks him straight back to his childhood. To times before the Bureau, when everything was somehow remarkably simpler.
In his pocket, Jaehan's phone rings.
Feeling it, he juggles his food in one hand and pats at his pockets, expecting it to be one of the boys, calling to tell him where they are, or asking him to find them. He's got the thing answered and to his ear before he realizes his mistake.
"Hey, I didn’t know if you'd still be up. It's been a while."
Jaehan nearly drops the phone.
"Hyung,” he breathes, his heart stuttering to a stop. “Hi. Hello."
"I wasn't sure you'd have the same number,” Minjae admits, with the smallest of laughs. "I'm glad you do, there's no way the Bureau would’ve released your information to me at this point."
Briefly, Jaehan is sent hurtling back to a different time. To his previous team, to their shared flat, and to the vastly different person that he’d been when he’d first become a hunter. He shakes himself out of it a second later, but the sensation lingers. Stark, and very disorienting.
"It's been a while," Jaehan mumbles, as the festival around him fades into the peripherals of his attention. "What– what's the occasion?"
His brain is still trying to catch up, it's not like he gets calls like this very often. Actually, he’s struggling to think of the last time anyone called him that he wasn't currently working with. It's not like his parents ever call, no one else from his previous team has ever bothered. So this…
"It's the equinox. I figured that was reason enough." Minjae lets out another laugh, and Jaehan can hear the mixed emotions in that little sound. The nerves, the worry, but maybe also something else beyond it. A certain… ease to his tone that he didn't used to have. “Is it a bad time? Do they have you working?”
Jaehan mutely shakes his head, then remembers he's on a phone call and answers verbally. "No, hyung, it's not a bad time. I'm just… How are you doing?"
"Good." Even through the slight distortion of the phone line, Jaehan can hear the truth in that statement. Minje is doing well, or at least he doesn't sound quite as dead. "I mean, I won’t lie, it's been a rough year, but it's gotten better."
Unexpectedly, Jaehan feels something well up in his throat. Swift and heavy, enough that he chokes on it. "Yeah," he manages, his voice just a little too unsteady for him to shrug off. "Yeah, I can only imagine. It's been hard for me too."
"They… Did they give you a new partner after Jongchan?" Minjae doesn't have to fish for the name, but he does have to fish for the question. Almost like he feels awkward just asking. "I know the Bureau usually moves faster than we want them to, have they already–"
"I haven't." Cutting him off, Jaehan squeezes the little paper tray of food in his hand, and briefly closes his eyes. "I haven't even… They haven’t even reassigned me, hyung. I'm still at that facility they threw me in."
At once, Minjae’s tone changes, becoming one of guilt and also maybe sympathy. "Oh, I didn't– I just figured that they would…" Clearly at a loss, he points out, "Dongkyu and Seunghyun got reassigned right away. I guess I just assumed they’d do the same with you."
"I thought they would too." Opening his eyes again, staring off sightlessly into the crowds of people that naturally move around and make room for his slower pace, Jaehan swallows hard. "They basically sent me back to the Academy, hyung. I've been doing nothing but coursework ever since."
"How have you been handling it?"
Distantly, past the guilt, Jaehan is able to pick up on the familiar traces of his old leader’s kindness. His concern for the people he’d once looked after, even if he’s since retired and moved on. Briefly, Jaehan wonders if he sounds like that when he talks to his boys.
Staring at the food still clutched in his hand, Jaehan faces the fact that his appetite is gone before pitching in the nearest trash can. "I mean, it's going as well as you can expect. It's not like I ever got the highest grades in the Academy, but I'm doing my best. They've got me learning about demons. Also some blood magic on the side… It's– I guess it's kind of interesting."
"You sound unenthused." Minjae’s voice is far too warm and familiar as he carefully asks, "Are you okay, Jaehannie?"
Jaehan feels like he spends so much time asking that question of other people, but it's been a long time since someone asked him. It's been even longer since it was his leader’s voice asking him, bringing with it that instinctive sense of security. Like even if everything is going to shit, it's going to be alright because someone older and wiser than him is handling it. Hearing it now, when everything is already so much; it nearly breaks him.
Gradually, Jaehan draws in a shaky breath and admits, “No, I'm not okay. I'm scared, hyung."
"I'm sure you've heard this before, but you're allowed to be." Despite the year gap since they last spoke, the two of them naturally fall into the roles they used to occupy. Jaehan can hear the shift in his leader’s voice, and he can feel all of that forced positivity and false confidence he’s built up crumbling with it. "The Bureau has always treated us hunters poorly, they did when I was there and they probably always will. But I'm sorry you're getting caught in the crosshairs.”
“It never used to be this bad,” Jaehan whispers, scared that if he speaks any louder he’s going to start panicking for real. “They used to at least pretend we meant something but they- I’ve been tossed around like I’m just a number in a computer system.” Jaw tightening, he fights to keep breathing evenly. “I am just a number but it never- they didn’t-”
“We’re expendable to them,” Minjae agrees softly. Regretfully. “Sometimes they care enough to fake otherwise, but other times the illusion drops. I always tried to be a buffer between you all and them when I could. But I’m not exactly there anymore.”
"I'm just– I'm so tired. I don't have the answers and I feel like I should." Wandering his way out of the thick of the crowd, Jaehan finds an empty bench and settles down. Almost like the weight of his reality is too much for him to continue standing under. "They’re going to reassign me soon, but I don't want to be reassigned. And I don't even know where they're going to send me. They haven't even told me that much."
"They never do, do they?" Minjae’s voice crackles slightly through the connection. "They just put us places. And we go."
"How did you do it, hyung? " Jaehan doesn't mean to sound desperate, but he already knows that he does. "How did you leave us? How did it not kill you?"
"That's the thing," For a second, the older man’s tone is just on the edge of fragile. Just on the edge of being a little too honest. "It did kill me. It was the hardest thing I ever did."
Jaehan hears it in his tone, the regret. The shame. The guilt of getting up and leaving when the rest of his team needed him most. But at the same time, it’s also in that precise moment Jaehan realizes he doesn't blame his old leader in the slightest.
"They’re taking me away from my team," Jaehan admits, his voice almost tremulous. Resolutely, he clenched his free hand into a fist and steadies himself. "They're taking me away, and I– I’m not ready. How am I supposed to be?"
"You can't be." Somehow, it's like the man is finally validating all the things that Jaehan has been silently thinking for so long, and the relief is almost too much to bear. "I thought I was ready. I told myself you’d all be fine, and I left. It was only after I was gone that I realized I wasn't fine."
"They all look up to me, and I didn't- I haven't done anything to deserve it. But I don't want to let them down." Jaehan's fingers tighten around his phone, until he can hear the plastic case on it creaking. "They've already been through so much, now the Bureau is putting us through even more. They're not ready, but I'm trying to be? Because someone has to be, right?"
"That's your family."
"You guys were my family." Jaehan's jaw clenched and the pressure builds in his head. "I still got up and left."
"No, you didn't." Minjae’s voice is firm, accepting no argument. “That’s not what what happened a year ago and that's not what you're doing now. No matter how much it feels like it."
Jaehan stares at his feet and purses his lips.
"I may not be there, but no matter how much you feel like you're failing, I know you. You're not." Drawing in a deep breath, Minjae quietly says, "I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."
"I never expected you to," Jaehan admits, with a faint laugh.
"But I wish that you had expected me to. I wanted to be someone you looked up to, and then I let you down. I let all of you down." It's amazing, how different the man sounds now that he’s retired and they’ve parted ways. Back when they’d worked together, Jaehan could never have conceived of a Minjae that was weak or uncertain. Now, he sees his old leader for what he actually is. Just another hunter, just another human, stuck in the same difficult job as the rest of them. "I always thought about calling, but I guess I never had the nerve. I was always terrified you wouldn't pick up. And I was even more scared of what I would do if you did."
In that moment, Jaehan gets it perfectly. Because he's not sure what he's going to do after he loses the rest of his group. No matter how much time the Bureau gives him to cope, he doesn't think it’ll ever be enough. There is no satisfactory answer, there are just the ties he’s about to sever, and the mess it’s going to leave him afterward.
Will he keep in touch with Jinwoo or Hwichan? Or will he stare at their numbers in his phone, terrified of what he’ll find if he bridges that gap once more.
Drawing in a deep breath, Jaehan closes his eyes and listens to the faint pattern of breathing on the other end of the phone.
"Well, you called now."
"You're right, I did. I'm gonna do that more often from now on."
"I hope you do." Jaehan finds a smile coming to his face. I missed you.
"So," Minjae’s voice sounds a little thicker than before, but Jaehan can still imagine the smile on the man's face. "Tell me about this new team of yours."
Steadily, Jaehan does.
It's not going to be good when they're all split up, but somehow, he thinks he's going to manage it.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
When Junghoon and Hangyeom get the little yellow slips, they point-blank refuse to go.
“It’s good they’re letting Hangyeom-hyung back out on the field,” Kevin tries to reason, however weakly. “We should be glad they haven’t questioned any of the paperwork we filed.”
"Actually, I don’t have to be glad about shit.” Junghoon looks downright murderous. “Good, we’re not getting court-martialed for fraud. They’re still trying to reassign us.”
“I haven’t been cleared for duty.” Hangyeom stands beside where Junghoon is sitting, his skin warping and shifting agitatedly. “I don’t even know if my name has been legally registered in their system.”
“They can't make us." Crossing his arms, sitting back on their well-used couch, Junghoon stares at the wall, his expression unmoving. "If we don't go, they can't do anything."
"You know it's not that easy," Hwichan reminds him gently, a worried look plastered onto his face. "They'll just come and drag you off.” His eyes slide to Hangyeom. “Or worse. You can't just ignore them forever."
"I can and I will." Turning a hard look on the other hunter, Junghoon shakes his head. "I'm not going. I'm not leaving, even if it is with Hangyeom-hyung. I'm not doing it."
"Same." Despite the clear fear in his eyes, Hangyeom is just as adamant as Junghoon, if not more so. "What are they going to do to me that they haven’t already done? They’ve already tortured me, they’ve already locked me up here. Go on, I dare them to do worse."
"I mean, they dragged me off when I wouldn’t go," Taedong points out, his rumbling voice quiet. Almost like he's not sure if he wants to be heard.
"Fine, then they can come drag me off too." Junghoon's bottom lip quivers, but it's only for a second. Just long enough to belie the true emotions that are running through him. "If that's what they want to do, I guess I can't stop them then. But I'm sure as hell not going to make it easier."
"I don't know," Hangyeom says with a laugh, kicking at one of Junghoon's shins. "I've seen most of those paper pushers, I think we can take a couple of them. What do you say?"
Jaehan, who has kept quiet up to this point, finally decides to break his silence. "We’re not fighting anyone."
"Why not?" Turning on him sharply, Hangyeom lurches forward. As he does, excess magic sloughs off his skin, reacting to his aggravated state. "My life is already shit, I'm not letting them destroy it more. At this point, I think I'd rather them lock me up than put me through this bullshit again."
"At least you know you're going with Junghoon," Hyuk points out, his dark eyes wide and sad. "I don't think I'm going to get to go with him."
"And why fucking not?" Getting to his feet as well, Junghoon wheels on the room at large, his voice rising as his anger gets the best of him. "Why me and not you? I went through the same shit you did, I've been going through the same fucking therapy. Why am I getting thrown out there?" His breath is unstable, his fist clench and unclench at his sides. He’s still coherent, but he doesn't really look like he's holding it together. "It's not fucking fair."
"Getting partnered up shouldn't be some sort of consolation prize," Hangyeom hisses, his eyes shadowed. "It's like they're specifically doing this to make us miserable."
"But you still have to go."
Jaehan has been doing a lot of thinking since the festival. Most of it started even before then, but he thinks he actually gets it now. After talking to his old leader, a lot of stuff has been put into perspective. Things that had seemed cruel, unjust and senseless before have a pattern, a why even if it’s not one he entirely agrees with. "I know you hate it, void, I hate it too. But you have to."
"Why?" Junghoon's eyes blaze. "So I can be another stamp on a piece of paperwork? So I can be another thing checked off a list of tasks for a paper pusher to do today? They don't fucking care!"
"I know." Stepping closer, Jaehan reaches out for the man, and is almost surprised when Junghoon lets him put a hand on his shoulder. "I know they don't care, but we didn't join because of them. We joined because there's a job to do, and even though it sucks, someone has to do it." His other hand finds Hangyeom’s shoulder. Without thinking, he pulls them both closer.
They don't resist when he wraps them in a tight hug, and for a moment, he thinks his heart shatters.
"I don't want to do shit for the greater good, hyung." Hangyeom's voice is a mumble against his shoulder. One of his hands is fisted in the front of Jaehan's hoodie. "I already gave up my humanity for the greater good, they shouldn't be allowed to ask for more."
"Don’t think about it as them asking." Drawing a deep breath, Jaehan plainly states, "Do because I'm asking you to."
There’s been so much that has led to this moment for him. A thousand times where Jaehan has had someone put their trust in him only for him to shy away from it because he didn't know what to do. A thousand times he probably could've been a better leader. A better friend, a better hunter. There are so many moments, but they've all led to this one.
Maybe it's a little bit too late for a moment of clarity, but he gets it. Even if it's a lesson the Bureau never meant to teach him, he's learned it well.
"They're going to partner you two up, and they're going to assign you to a new team, and it's going to suck." Jaehan's voice is soft, meant only for the two men currently clinging to him like he's a lifeline. "And you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to grieve however you need to. But there's a reason that they're reassigning you now. It's because they trust that you're strong enough to handle it. And I know that you're strong enough, so for once, they’re right."
"I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave anybody here." At some point, Junghoon's voice lost all the fight it had in it before. He sounds small now, like he did when he first arrived here. Scared and confused and so very tired. Jaehan wants nothing more than to pull him closer and promise that he doesn't have to go anywhere if he doesn't want to.
Part of being a leader, he's discovered, is doing the hard thing. Saying the stuff that no one wants to hear and not running away, even when everything hurts.
"We’ll all be right here when you get back." Even though it feels like a lie, Jaehan still injects warmth into his voice. Whatever scant comfort it might bring, if any at all. "And hey, I bet everybody will be actually awake by then. So we’ll all get to hear about it. But for now, you two need to go."
"When we leave, never forget us?" Hangyeom’s smile is just a little off, his ruddy eyes are just a little glassy. "Promise?"
"Never." Ruffling the non-human’s hair, Jaehan offers him a smile of his own. "I'll find you, no matter where they send you. They can’t take you away from me that easily."
It's coming to an end, but finally, Jaehan thinks that he's gotten the very thing that he needed most when he came to this facility. He desperately wanted to be needed, and now he is. Even if that's all going to be dragged away from him soon, it's not going to change this moment. It's not going to change how much these men have decided to rely on him, and it's not going to change the way that it's managed to fill the hole in his heart he hadn't even realized was there.
The Bureau can take a lot of things away from him, but they can't take away what’s already happened. And until the day that he follows after all of those other hunters that have come before him and finally passes away, he's going to carry these moments with him in his heart.
It may not feel like enough right now. But in the future, he’s convinced that it will be.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
"–and so I think you'll find that with this, your paperwork is all in order. Feel free to review the provided documents at your leisure. We will have a copy here in the archives in case you’re ever in need of it."
It's the same paper pusher he dealt with when he first got here, Jaemin. The same one that assigned Jaehan his continuing education, the same one that promised they’d know when he’d finished it all. Apparently, Jaemin wasn't lying. They had known, right down to the day. And they hadn't even made him take a final exam.
That being said, Jaehan had seen it coming. He’s seen it coming for the past two and a half months. If anything, he’s surprised it took them this long.
"Yes sir," Jaehan answers stiffly, his posture straight, his jaw firmly set.
They’re reassigning him. After over a year spent within this terrible facility, the Bureau is finally going to put him on a new team. He's been given some details, but he hasn't really been paying attention. It's a specialist team, he’s picked up on that much. Their focus will be on demonology and the occult, just like all his continuing education had suggested it would be. The transfer is effective immediately, he's got exactly two hours after this to go pack and be ready to leave.
Another important detail is that apparently he's going to be the leader of this new team. Jaehan has no idea why they decided this, it's not like he has any official experience leading anyone, there are no stamps on his paperwork. He definitely hasn't gone through any officer training. It sounds like on its face to be a poor idea. But orders are orders and he doesn’t have a choice.
He's been signing paperwork all morning, but he hasn't really registered any of it. Hell, he's got a file in his hands full of the names and details of the people that are going to be on his new team, but he doesn't have the heart to read it. He already has a team, one that’s probably going to be waiting in the dorm for him when he gets back. But the Bureau doesn't know about that, and he's not going to tell them.
Some parts of his life deserve to be entirely his own.
"Do you have any questions?" The paper pusher is watching him through narrowed eyes, a thin smile playing across his lips. Jaehan doesn't often bother to hate people, but he thinks he hates this man right now. Just a little bit, if only because he has the audacity to take joy from this miserable experience.
But he doesn't say that. Instead, he tips his chin back and asks, "If I may sir, why am I being made a leader?"
Jaemin’s smile stretches, his eyes lighting up despite the dim lighting. "I thought you’d never ask. According to the orders I received for you, it's because you passed the Bureau’s tests with flying colors. Congratulations."
Jaehan doesn't think he's ever been given congratulations that feel quite this cheap before.
"Thank you."
"Now I know it's on quite short notice, but you're still young at heart. I'm sure you'll be able to move yourself along quickly." Shuffling the paperwork on his desk, slotting the numerous signed agreements into their proper folders, the paper pusher smiles widely. "I know I don't have to say this to you, but try not to make this any more difficult than it needs to be."
Thinking of his boys, of Kevin and Hyuk and Junghoon, of Yechan and Taedong, Hangyeom and Hwichan, and perhaps especially of Jinwoo, Jaehan's throat tightens. Don't make it harder than it needs to be. As if they have any idea. As if they know what they're doing to him.
"Are these assignments final? Do I get any sort of… say as to who's on my team?" It's stupid, he knows, but Jaehan thinks of the promise he made to Hyuk. Of Hangyeom's precarious paperwork situation, and of how terrified of being left alone again Jinwoo is. "Any way at all I can-"
"No, sorry, the paperwork has already been finalized. There’s no adjusting it now." Smile thinning, Jaemin delicately states, “If it makes you feel any better, it's been finalized for a while. We were just waiting until a certain member of your team was ready to be moved."
Jaehan's mouth twists. "I don't suppose I get to know who it is?"
"As a matter of fact, you do." Jaemin’s eyes narrow, before he nods to the door behind Jaehan. "Actually, he should be waiting for you just outside. If you would like to let him in, that would be kind of you."
Dread settling around his shoulders, Jaehan sluggishly does as he's been bid. Turning, he takes the two steps back to the door and, after drawing a breath, he pulls it open. Just as he’d been promised, a hunter in full uniform waits for him.
Quickly, Jaehan takes in the trimmed silver hair, the easy posture, and the slight smile already playing at the man's lips. He has to have heard Jaehan's request to form his own team, and not take what the Bureau was giving him, but he doesn't seem overly bothered by it. If anything, the moment he gets a look at Jaehan, his smile widens.
"Jang Sebin," the hunter announces, sticking out a hand in greeting. "And I already know who you are, Kim Jaehan."
"It's… good to meet you, Sebin-ssi." Hesitantly taking the hand offered to him, Jaehan shakes it twice before awkwardly saying, "I suppose I'm your new leader."
"Yeah, I heard about that. You don't look half bad to me, I think you'll do fine." When Sebin grins, there's something distinctly wolfish about it, even though he's clearly human. "And it's just Sebin, by the way, no need to be polite. We’re working together, after all."
"Jang-ssi here was part of the old demonology team, you’ll be pleased to know.” Pulling Jaehan's attention back to himself, Jaemin pulls out another file and hands it over. "It has been decided that after his old team’s dissolution, he would be joining your team, seeing as that team will be assuming the responsibilities he left behind. As well as, of course, expanding the purview slightly."
"I'm just glad they didn't make me the leader." Elbowing him good-naturedly, that crooked smile never leaving his face, Sebin reveals, "It was a real possibility for a second there, but apparently you're much better suited to it. So for that, you have my thanks."
“You’re welcome.” Jaehan is still entirely unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, but he probably shouldn't say either way in front of a paper pusher.
“It is the Bureau’s hope that having someone with practical experience in this field will help make this transition process as seamless as possible. They plan on giving you two weeks to acclimate yourself, at which point you will be expected to start work again. Actual work." Jaehan isn't sure whether he’s supposed to feel offended or not by the way the man emphasizes those words, but he's distracted from deciding by Sebin throwing a heavy arm around his shoulders.
"Don't worry, between him and I and the rest of the team, I'm sure we’ll be able to figure it all out just fine." It's hard not to envy the man’s enthusiasm, especially when Jaehan has so little of his own. "After all, taking care of demons is one of my favorite-est things to do."
Jaemin’s smile is disgustingly indulgent, like an adult simpering at a child. "Always good to see true enthusiasm when it comes to your job."
Taking the extra file that he's been handed, Jaehan briefly flips it open. There are faces in here he doesn't recognize, probably Sebin's old team. They all look weathered and tired, several have scars that irreversibly twist their features. Quickly, he closes the file. He'll ask the man about it later, when he doesn't have one thousand other things on his mind.
As some of those nebulous thoughts coalesce, Jaehan can’t help but ask, “Am I not getting a partner.”
“It’s been decided at this time that actually the both of you will be of more use to us unpartnered.” Jaemin’s expression twists into something almost consolatory. “You’ll likely be too busy with your new duties to make time for something like a non-human partner, Kim-ssi, and Jang-ssi here is still within his six month down period between partners. I’m sure you’ll be able to make do though.”
So he won’t even have any help with this. Sighing internally, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed, Jaehan gives a swift nod. "Is that all, sir?"
Regarding him carefully, the paper pusher smiles once more, big and wide. It's a thoroughly unpleasant expression. "As far as I know, that will be all. If you have any further questions, you know how to get in touch."
Clapping his hands together, Sebin reaches for the other file in Jaehan's hands, slow enough the paperwork can be pulled out of his reach if Jaehan tries. "Do I get to find out who the rest of our team is?"
"Later," Jaehan mumbles. Once he gets around to it. Once his ears stop ringing. Once he’s ready to know in what ways his life is going to change.
Shrugging, seemingly unbothered by this, Sebin gives the paper pusher a look as though to say ‘well, what can you do’, before putting his hand back on Jaehan's shoulder and steering him in the direction of the door. "Let's go get your stuff together. My stuff’s already waiting in the transit, I'll be able to help pack."
It's only once they're outside, away from Jaemin’s ears, that Sebin says anything of particular worth.
"So, not thrilled about leaving, huh?" His voice has gentled somewhat, there's something much less dramatic about it now that they don't have an audience. Sebin’s posture also loosens, becoming less immediately alert and instead more relaxed. "How long have they had you here?"
"Over here?" Jaehan pulls a face. "Too long."
"Well, you'll be getting out of here now." Lacing his fingers behind his head as they walk, Sebin admits, "I kind of thought they were going to throw me somewhere like this for a while. Especially considering what a mess my last team dissolving was… But no, they already had something all lined up. So I can only assume they've had this planned for you for quite a while."
Nodding, Jaehan glances down at the folder in his hands. He should open it, he should at least look at the names and pictures of his new team, but he can't bring himself to do it just yet. Soon, he promised himself. As soon as he’s prepared to not be irrationally resentful of the people he finds in there. "Considering what they’ve had me studying, they probably knew the moment I got here." Awkwardly giving Sebin an apologetic glance, he adds, “Which means they’ve been planning to disband your team for at least a year.”
“Ah, it all makes sense now.” When Jaehan just stares at him in confusion, Sebin slowly elaborates. “We… had a couple teammates die a year ago." Lips twisting slightly, the man shakes his head. "We requested replacements, the Bureau told us no. Guess we all know why now."
"You don't seem too bothered about the transfer," Jaehan observes, tucking both folders under an arm and falling into step beside the other hunter.
“It’s all a matter of perspective, really." Eyeing him sidelong, Sebin admits, "I've known they were all going to retire soon. Half of those guys were in their late forties, our leader was pushing fifty-two. If they didn't kick the bucket, they were going to quit. I was just the last time the Bureau bothered to give them someone."
"You think that’s better than it happening suddenly?" Jaehan can't help but ask, he’s been stuck wondering these things a lot. Even more so now that he's about to leave his own team.
“There was no way for them to go about this that didn't suck. But yeah, I'm glad I had some time." Sebin shrugs. “No regrets and all that."
Jaehan wonders if he has regrets. His first instinct is to say yes, because he's leaving his group at all. There’s so much he could still do with them, so much longer he wants to spend just existing in their presence. If he stayed, if they all stayed, they could continue to pretend to be this happy little team and everything would be fine. He could be content living like that.
But… the longer he thinks about it, the more he realizes that isn't true. He wishes he had longer, but that isn’t the same as a regret. Given the chance, he’d do it all the same way again, and he’d never hesitate once.
Every one of his boys knows exactly how much they mean to him. There’s nothing he’s left unsaid. Even after he leaves, his memories will stay with him always.
"I'm leaving behind my group here." Jaehan admits to Sebin, his words halting. He half expects to be made fun of for saying it. Clearly, he doesn't have an actual group, not according to the Bureau, but Sebin still seems to sympathize. His brows furrow at Jaehan’s words and slowly, his face falls.
“Tell me about them," he suggests, watching Jaehan coolly as he does.
"There’s not– not much to tell." That's a lie, there's so much, but Jaehan is aware that at this point it's too much for a story that he probably only has ten minutes to give. "They're just friends I made here. Other people who don't have a team. Rejects. Hunters who got left behind.”
His family.
"So… people more important than any team could be," Sebin finishes, with a knowing nod. "Got it."
"I'm not trying to say I don't want you on my team," Jaehan hurries to insist, pulling a pained expression. “I promise it's not that. It's just…"
“You wish you were bringing them along as well." Sebin guesses easily. Nodding miserably, Jaehan hangs his head. "I'm not going to hold that against you. I promise. I just left my team, after all. Do you think I'm particularly thrilled to have a new one so soon?"
Jaehan winces. "I wouldn't be."
"So we're on the same page then." Ducking his head slightly, Sebin makes a point of making eye-contact with Jaehan. “As corny as this sounds, and I'm aware it's pretty damn corny, we’ll get through it together. Jaehan, new leader of mine.”
"Right, together." It's not much comfort, but Jaehan takes a moment to summon up every ounce of internal strength he has regardless. Whether he likes it or not, he has to get through this. At least it seems like he'll have at least one understanding person to lean on.
In Jaehan’s mind, this last walk back to the dorms makes him feel like he's on death row. Every step takes him closer to the conversation he's not ready to have, every passing minute reminds him that he's losing time. That soon, they’ll throw him out of this building, whether he’s said all the goodbyes he wants to or not.
Though Sebin mostly lets him stew in silence, he does end up drawing a little closer, crowding into Jaehan’s bubble and pressing their shoulders together. It's a small gesture of comfort, but the physicality of it is welcome. It helps ground Jaehan in the here and now.
Before he really knows what he’s going to do, before he’s managed to come up with any coherent sort of goodbye, he's at the dorms. The door to their little wing of this facility stands before him, and he's reaching for the knob before he can think to pause and take a breath. Even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the moment he puts his hand on the cool metal, somebody's opening the door from within.
"Hyung!" It's Jinwoo, who upon seeing him immediately throws himself into Jaehan's arms, already wrapping him in a hug. "We got reassigned. All of us did!”
Stomach dropping like a stone, Jaehan swallows thickly. All of them? All at once?
"Who is this?" Yechan pokes his head out over both of them so he can shoot a suspicious look at Sebin, who is still standing behind Jaehan. "I don't recognize him."
"I’m a new team member of Jaehan's," Sebin says easily, giving Yechan a little half salute. "It's nice to meet you. You’ve got very sharp teeth.”
“Perfect for eating stupid people,” Yechan quips, gnashing said teeth pointedly in Sebin’s direction.
The man just snorts. “You’re cute.”
Immediately, the gargoyle’s eyes narrow. “No.”
Slipping past the two of them, following Jinwoo numbly, Jaehan feels something in him shudder at the sight of their little home and they've made for themselves being deconstructed by the rest of the group. Everything is in disarray, suitcases are on the floor, bags are thrown over every surface, and Kevin is trying desperately to coordinate the entire thing while also petting a miserable looking Hyuk.
The sadness in the canid’s eyes almost does Jaehan in, since out of all the people he feels like he's failing, the sentiment is doubly strong with this man. "Hyuk," he says softly, too softly to be heard over the chaos of the room. "I'm sorry."
Noticing him a second later when Hyuk whines loudly at his feet, Kevin's eyes widen and he calls to the other rooms, "Jaehan-hyung is back!"
At once, there's a mass exodus from the bedrooms as all the other boys come swarming. Hwichan nearly face-plants as he trips over someone's open luggage and Junghoon only just barely manages to catch Hangyeom before he pitches into the radiator. Looking around the room, Jaehan notices the manila folders that are scattered across the various surfaces and his heart sinks another inch.
"What's wrong," Hwichan asks, once he's gotten his bearings back. "You look like somebody died."
To be honest, he never thought this would be a problem, but maybe Jaehan was too good at comforting everyone here, because none of them look worried. Short of Hyuk, who couldn't be drooping more into the cushions of the couch if he tried, and Kevin, who has a sad look in his eyes, the rest of them seem in good spirits. But the longer they stand there looking at Jaehan, the more the mood of the room falls.
No, that's not what I want to do. I don't want to make them sad. Forcing himself to stand up straighter, Jaehan plainly says, "No one died, I just… got reassigned."
"Yeah, so did the rest of us." Fishing around one of the open bags, Junghoon produces his own set of orders. "Except for Kevin and Hyuk, everyone else got the notice this morning while you were out."
"Obviously we don’t want to leave them behind, but apparently Hyuk hasn't passed his psych eval yet." Jinwoo trails off slowly, and he makes a point of standing back so he can properly look Jaehan in the eyes. “It sucks but it’s not… The world isn’t ending.”
"And we’ve already promised to come visit them," Yechan calls from the doorway, ambling in with Sebin at his heels. "They're in a major facility, we’ll probably have an excuse."
“I’ll look after him,” Kevin promises firmly, his hand stilling on Hyuk’s head. “You can trust me, you know that.”
Jaehan's throat is closing up, he's not sure if he's going to be able to speak at all. Considering how everybody's been taking just getting assigned partners, he expected this to go worse. He thought they'd be upset. At least Jinwoo and Hwichan…
His head is spinning.
"Are you alright?" Taedong echoes Hwichan’s earlier question tentatively, creeping closer and regarding Jaehan carefully. "You smell… miserable."
"I-" Jaehan sucks in a shaking breath. "I am miserable. I'm leaving. I don't–” I thought I'd be ready, but I'm not. “How are all of you so calm about this?"
Now they're all just looking at him in confusion, and maybe a little fear. Like someone here has missed a terribly important part of the puzzle, and they're all now waiting to see who’s holding it.
"Did I…" Jinwoo gives a nervous laugh, the excitement in his eyes clouding over with worry. "Did I misread the orders?"
As a chill falls over the room, Jaehan feels his chest depressing. "I'm supposed to vacate my room in two hours. They're sending me off to a different continent. I’m going to be an ocean away. I'm just- I'm worried I'm never going to see any of you again. Am I the only one who's worried?"
Tentatively, Sebin raises a hand. "I realize I'm new here, and it may not be my place… but Jaehan, have you read your orders yet?"
Jaehan stares at him blankly. "No, I– I was waiting. I wasn't really ready-"
"Maybe you should read the orders, hyung," Hangyeom suggests lightly, his posture relaxing slightly as he sits back on his heels.
Heart somewhere in his throat, Jaehan dumbly opens the manila folder and forces himself to focus on the words neatly typed across the page. It's not hard to find the names, a little list of all the people he's going to be working with from now on. There's his own name, no partner listed, at least not for the time being. And there's Sebin’s name as well, in much the same state, but underneath it…
"It's not just a joke anymore, hyung." One of Yechan's wings falls warmly over Jaehan's back, and he offers the man a toothy smile. "We're all officially a team now."
Right there, on the page in black and white, stamped and sanctioned by the Bureau, is a list of three hunter-non-human pairs. Hwichan and Taedong, Junghoon and Hangyeom, Jinwoo and Yechan.
They're all his. Officially.
For a second, Jaehan thinks his knees are going to give out from under him.
Coming around to Jaehan's other side and slapping him on the back, Sebin announces, "Well, this seems like a happy ending. It's nice to meet all of you, I'm your other teammate. Are y'all ready to get on a boat?"
“I’m sorry,” Junghoon squawks. “A what?”
Everything after that is kind of a whirlwind. Jaehan still hasn't fully processed everything by the time they're packed and ready to go, he thinks it's going to take him a few days for it all to sink in. After all this time, after all of the worry and the fear and the guilt, it's all going to be okay. Because he's walking away from this with most of his team and for once, the Bureau isn't making things worse. If anything, they're trying to make it better.
There is the fact they're leaving Kevin and Hyuk behind weighing on everyone’s minds, but Kevin promises they’ll see each other again. "And I mean that," he insists, with one of those determined yet knowing looks in his eyes. "I said I’d figure out the Hangyeom problem, and I did that. Trust me when I say I'll figure this out too."
"I think you'll understand why I'm not going to get my hopes up," Jaehan points out, stooping slightly so he can give Kevin a hug. "But I hope you prove me wrong."
"I'm convinced the only reason they're not partnering Hyuk with Sebin-ssi is because his psych evaluations are still coming back a little shaky, but maybe I can figure something out. Fudging the numbers a little never hurt anyone, right?" Kevin’s smile is a little sad. "I'm stuck here for good, but he deserves room to roam. Not to play off of the canid stereotype or anything, but you know what I mean."
"I think he’d be more devastated to not have you around, but I get it." Taking a step back, Jaehan plants his hands on Kevin's shoulders and says, “No matter what, you've got to visit."
"Of course we’ll visit, hyung." Hyuk says firmly, his tail still drooping, but his expression much more stubborn than before. "You're not getting away from us that easily."
Though no one wants to admit it, there are a certain number of tears shed as they leave. The eight of them are piled together into a transit along with the rest of their luggage, even though there's definitely not enough room, and a course is plotted to the airport. From there, it'll be to the coast, and then they’ll all be piled onto a boat. Jaehan doesn't know why it can't all be by plane, but he's not going to question it. At least it'll give them time to get to know Sebin a bit better.
Hyuk and Kevin both see them off, Hyuk standing resolutely by Kevin's side, and Kevin waving to them expansively. Jaehan doesn't want to see them go, but he's glad to be leaving this place. And he's grateful to be leaving it with most of the people that he cares about, even if it couldn’t be all of them.
"It's going to be alright," Hwichan promises, his eyes alight as he presses up against Jaehan's side. If there are tears gathering at his lash line, they both elect not to mention them. "We’ll see them again."
"Yeah, and besides, you’ve still got us." Jinwoo grins as he half flops into Jaehan’s lap, eyes twinkling and lips parted in a lopsided, mischievous grin. "I told you when you first met me, it wouldn't be easy to get rid of me, and now look, you’re going to be stuck with me forever.”
Rustling the man’s hair until he lets out a whine of complaint, Jaehan agrees, "You're right, you stuck to me like glue.”
They all did. And honestly, he couldn't be more thankful.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
It's absolutely bizarre, walking into a new hunter base after all this time.
Honestly, it had come to a point where Jaehan had fully believed he would never see somewhere similar again. Where he’d started to imagine their little dorms at the Bureau as being like a hunter base, if only as a desperate grab for some sort of nostalgia in a world of the unfamiliar. But the moment he sees this new place, he knows what a cheap imitation it really was.
This is the real deal. There are heavy runic wards written into every inch of the property. All the rooms have pockmarked walls and scarred floorboards. There’s a faint smell of smoke that permeates the entire place, like someone set a few too many things on fire. The whole place is ridiculously cramped, to the point where it couldn't support anybody else but a group of hunters who are used to it.
It's even got a faded logo of the NHII painted on the side of the building. Not that he’s going to make a deal about it either way, but Jaehan thinks a little paint will take care of that pretty easily.
Between air travel, customs, and all of the other nonsense they've had to go through, on top of their sixteen day long boat ride, Jaehan's team has been traveling for almost twenty days. He swears if he has to live out of a suitcase any longer, he's going to lose his mind. Finally though, it seems like it's at an end. They're here, he's processed some parts of it, but the rest is probably going to take a few months to really set in.
I actually have my own base, he thinks, his eyes drifting over the low ceiling fan and the remnants of a dragon-chess board scattered over a listing coffee table. Sure, it’s not his first base, and logically looks nothing like it, but there’s still a deep sense of nostalgia that fills him as he steps over the threshold and onto the old hardwood floor. And yet it’s the voices of his team that echo behind him when he closes his eyes, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
"Dibs on picking a room first," Junghoon announces, dropping his stuff by the door and tearing off deeper into the house.
"Excuse you, clearly I am going to pick my room first," Hwichan calls after him, already heading in the same direction. “There's seniority here, and you are a child by comparison."
“I've been a hunter longer than you have!" Junghoon yells back, his voice already getting lost to the depths of the house.
"Only by two months!"
Loping in after Jaehan, Sebin elbows him in the side and conspiratorially tells him, "I'm taking the farthest room away from the front door. And you can't stop me."
Rolling his eyes, Jaehan gives a tired gesture towards the rest of the house. "Please, by all means, go ahead and pillage what we have. I clearly can't stop the rest of them.”
“Glad to know I have your approval.” Shooting finger guns in Jaehan’s direction, Sebin ambles off towards the rooms, calling as he does so, “If either of you took the room I want, I’m going to pick you up and throw you out.”
Sighing, Jaehan stares after the man, only to find a fond smile crawling over his face. He’s only known Sebin for a few weeks, but already he’s decided he likes him. The man fits in well with the rest of the group, to the point Jaehan’s almost a little disappointed he didn’t spend some time at the Bureau with Kevin and Hyuk as well. Certainly he’s got a lot more of that active-duty-hunter sharpness to him that has worn down on the rest of them, but if anything, that’s been good for the rest of the team.
It’s been a helpful little reminder of what they’re getting back to. Sure, they’ve got a couple weeks to settle in, but Jaehan already has a brand new work email that’s filling up with memos and news about various jobs. Soon, he’s going to be sending his team out onto the field. For some of them, it’ll be the first time they’ve been active duty in over a year.
To say he’s nervous would be an understatement, but these kind of nerves are ones he feels capable of handling. He’s worried about the potential danger, but he trusts these men. Yes, there’s a risk of them getting hurt, but that’s part of being a hunter, and he thinks they’re ready.
Hell, there’s a real part of him that’s looking forward to their concerns being physical ones again. Jaehan wants to worry about whether everyone’s going to come back with all their fingers attached. He’s tired of everything being a mental stress of one kind or another. At least this will have tangible outcomes, even if some of them are bad.
Behind him, Jaehan feels a looming presence and he turns to find a certain hellhound tossing his head around, his two sets of orange eyes both scanning the new area. There’s already dust on his hind paws from the land around their base, and he thinks he sees several burs stuck in the man’s hair, but he elects to ignore them for now. He can only imagine how much the man has needed a chance just to roam, especially after so much time cooped up. Jaehan isn’t going to deny any of his team that privilege.
Sticking by the door, Taedong raises his head into the air and sniffs several times, his tongue lolling out over sharp teeth for a moment as he does. "Smells good in here,” he comments, his eyes sliding in Jaehan’s direction. “We’re close to a rift, it smells correct."
Jaehan is vaguely aware of the demonic rift that's close to this place, but he hasn't really gotten a chance to check it out. Still, when he inhales, he thinks he can smell it, somewhere past the smoke. That faint, cloying sweetness that fills the air like melting candy, or maybe like rotting flesh. Eventually, he’s going to need to visit it. Preferably before they’re dealing with something crawling through it, but that’s going to be an entire excursion, and he hasn’t unpacked yet.
Actually, he hasn't gotten a chance to look into anything yet. They just got here, and per the Bureau’s usual standards, the information they have been given has been clinical and criminally vague. That’s fine though, now that they're all here together, Jaehan feels like a lot can be remedied with time.
"Oh, do you think the local teams will reach out to us soon?" Yechan cranes his neck to look through one of the tiny windows near the ceiling, even though Jaehan is fairly certain it’s supposed to be decorative and just let in light. "What about the district teams? Regional? Do we know where the regional team’s base is?”
“Do you think they’re friendly?” Taedong asks hopefully.
"I know as much as the rest of you," Jaehan insists, holding out his hands. "I'm sure once we’re all settled in, we’ll be able to reach out ourselves. I'm sure they'll be happy to know there’s a new specialist team they can call in if they need help.”
"I still think calling ourselves specialists is a stretch," Hangyeom jokes quietly, popping his head out from what appears to be the kitchen. He’s got an ancient ziploc bag of what looks like flour in one hand, a wooden spoon in a second hand, and looks like a pepper grinder held in a secret third hand that’s sprouted out of his elbow. "I think we still count as newbies for a while. At least until we know the lay of the land.”
"Which is exactly why we're going out exploring later, I think we should have a handle on our immediate surroundings at the very least.” Raising his voice, Jaehan calls out to the rest of the house, "Because we've all been cooped up for way too long and everybody needs to get out and stretch their legs."
Poking his head back around the corner, his uniform held over one arm, Sebin raises a finger. "Consider, hear me out, party instead? To celebrate having a new team?”
Taedong's ears perk up at that, and his whip-like tail thrashes around behind him a couple times. It’s a habit he managed to pick up from Hyuk in their short time knowing each other. "Party? I could go for a party. Will there be something good to eat?"
"Hold on," Hangyeom interrupts, stepping fully out of the kitchen. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. We don't even have any food."
"That's easily fixed." Popping his head out from around Sebin, Junghoon points in his partner's direction. "You, me, some money, the nearest supermarket. We’ll pick up some food, some necessities, at least one bath towel. We may even pick up some alcohol-"
"We are not spending our first evening here getting drunk," Jaehan yells at the room in general, already wondering how exactly he's going to survive this. And this is just my reality now. For the foreseeable future, I get to enjoy this. "We are picking up necessities only, we have all been operating under reduced wages for the past year and change, let's not go spending like crazy. We still have an entire house to furnish."
"I always thought it was rude of the Bureau to do that to us," Hwichan grumbles, stepping out from the hallway alongside Junghoon and Sebin. "It’s not like we asked to be pulled off the field. The least you could do is pay us for being bored out of our minds. They’re not breaking the bank either way.”
“Have you noticed the pay bump of being a specialist?” Yechan asks, grinning in Hwichan’s direction. “I gotta say, after living off of local team wages for a while, I’m not going to complain. I always knew the Bureau was holding out on us.”
“Oh don’t get too excited,” Junghoon warns the man.
“It’s not worth it,” Sebin agrees, pulling a pensive expression. “Trust me, most of that extra money just goes into the extra supplies. You will go through shit faster than the Bureau is able or willing to restock.”
“But we’re getting paid again,” Hwichan interrupts, disappearing back down the hallway. “By the way, the rooms are all the same size so it doesn’t matter much which ones we get. We’ve got five of them to split between us.”
Yechan does some quick mental math and wrinkles his nose. "Well, as long as we invest in some decent size beds, that shouldn't be a problem. That or Jinwoo-hyung and I can take the attic. Is there an attic?”
“There’s an attic door back in Sebin’s room,” Junghoon tells the gargoyle, glancing behind him.
Slowly, Yechan’s eyes slide over to Sebin, who’s already grinning from ear to ear at the man. “I guess you’ll just have to put up with me, Yechannie,” he chirps, his voice pitching up ridiculously.
“I’m going to install a new attic door in Junghoon-hyung’s room,” the man sniffs, rustling leathery wings.
“Wait, hold on.” Junghoon holds up his hands. “Why am I getting involved in this? Fight over your own damn rooms, don’t drag mine into this.”
“I think we can spare room for Yechan,” Hangyeom insists, shifting his various cooking paraphernalia so he can wrap a protective arm around the gargoyle’s waist. “Just look at this face. You can’t say no to him, can you?”
“Consider; the drywall will say no for me.”
“If we’re installing doors,” Taedong ventures. “Can I have a door in my room? I want to be able to visit the attic too.”
As everyone starts arguing about door installations and bed configurations, and most importantly who is getting which closet, Jaehan does a quick headcount and realizes they're missing someone. It could be argued they're missing several someones, but at least two of them are waiting for them back at the Bureau. The other someone is more of an immediate concern. So instead of listening to the rapid-fire argument Yechan’s having with Junghoon, he quietly slips back out the door and glances around for the only person who hasn’t yet come inside.
Jinwoo is sitting outside, staring up at the sky above him and drawing in slow, deep breaths. For someone who usually has so much energy, it's strange to see the man so relaxed. But Jaehan is glad to see it. After everything he’s been through, Jinwoo deserves a little internal peace just as much as the rest of them.
Settling down beside the man on the crumbling stone bench that sits outside the kitchen window, Jaehan looks out at the scruffy expanse of land around them. Their base is located near one of the deserts of this particular country, and though they still have a few plants stubbornly clinging to life, it’s not much. The air is dry and hot, even this late in the evening, and he suspects it’ll be worse when the sun is high in the sky.
But he thinks he’ll come to like it regardless. As long as the air conditioning works and they invest in some sunscreen, they’ll be fine. And besides, this late at night the nearby rift spits up strange striations of magic into the air, leaving behind an unnatural light show that plays along with the sunset. In his opinion, it’s beautiful.
It’s no townhouse on the edge of a fairly populated town, but in Jaehan’s mind, it’ll do. He doesn’t miss his old base as much as he thought he would.
"We made it." Jaehan can't immediately identify all of the emotions in Jinwoo's voice, but he's pretty sure most of them are positive. There's relief there, and there's definitely joy. Obviously, like the rest of them, there's a certain amount of ruefulness alongside the excitement. They're here, but they left people behind. They made it out, but not everyone was so lucky.
Just like any other hunter job then, really, Jaehan thinks to himself as he slides closer to Jinwoo.
Thoughtlessly, the younger man sags against his side, fitting himself under Jaehan's arm like it's the most natural thing for him to do. "I honestly… For a while there, I didn't think we'd make it out. I thought that was it.” Laughing, his face twisting, Jinwoo ducks his head. “It feels weird to be wrong?"
"But it's good, right?" Drawing man closer, squeezing him like he'll be able to push all of the bad thoughts out of Jinwoo's brain if he holds on tight enough, Jaehan smiles. “They didn't win. The Bureau doesn't get away with everything."
"We're really a team then, huh?" Jinwoo exhales and shakes his head, like he still can't believe it. "I've got… teammates again. Void, I've got a partner." Tugging at the hem of his shirt, he pulls it up so he can look down at the bond mark neatly branded into his chest. Blinking twice, he shakes his head again and remains silent, like he honestly can't think of what to say for once.
Reaching out, Jaehan puts a hand over the mark. It may not be his, Jinwoo will never be his partner, but there's still something incredibly special about it to him. Because both Jinwoo and Yechan are his boys. No matter how many times he’ll call himself stupid for it, this means something. He knows it does.
When he puts his hand over that bond mark, he can feel it, like it's a tangible thing.
Jinwoo must feel it too, because he shudders slightly and draws in a trembling breath. "I'm going to get to go back to hunting. I– I never even thought I'd want to, but here I am." Jaehan can see it in his eyes, the bright gleam in those brown eyes. "I'm actually excited?"
"Good." Letting his hand slip down Jinwoo's torso, pulling the man's shirt back into place with it, Jaehan gradually leans in until their foreheads are pressed together. "You deserve to be excited. I'm excited too."
"I wish Kevin and Hyuk were here,” Jinwoo murmurs. “I think Hyuk would’ve really liked this place, there’s a lot more space than there is in that facility to just run.”
Holding his breath for a moment, until he’s certain that knot of regret won’t choke him, Jaehan nods minutely. "They would've loved it. When they visit, you can show them both around."
Jinwoo's expression twitches, and he lets out a soft sound Jaehan feels against his own face in the form of a small stirring of air. "I get to be on your team, hyung." The man’s voice is quiet, meant for just the two of them. "I'm so happy."
Instead of answering, Jaehan just closes that last half inch of distance and presses their lips together. He can taste the raw, unfiltered emotion on Jinwoo’s mouth, and it’s one of the best things he can possibly imagine.
"Do I get to say it now?"
"Yeah," Jinwoo breathes, his eyes are shut and his cheek are slightly flushed. "I guess since you don't plan on leaving m-"
"I love you."
Just that, as simple as can be. But Jaehan thinks that after everything they’ve been through, those three words say plenty.
Exhaling softly, Jinwoo relaxes into Jaehan's arms. "Sap." He pushes his face into Jaehan's chest. "But… I love you too."
In that moment, sitting outside of his new base, surrounded by his new team, Jaehan couldn't wish for anything else. It may have been a long road to get there, but he wouldn't change a moment of it. Not any of the heartache, and certainly not any of the beautiful moments in between.
He's got it all now. He can't possibly complain.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
Falling back into the life of an active duty hunter is easier than Jaehan expects.
He’d thought the transition would be more of a struggle, considering how long he spent sitting holed up in the Bureau. He expects there to be a bit of a culture shock almost, going from quiet, monotonous days and safe, insulated walls back to rigorous, physical work and alarming situations that he has to rely on instincts to solve instead of diplomacy. It’s a completely different life, it should take time to get used to.
It doesn’t. Much like riding a bike, you never forget how to hunt. All it really takes is one job for him to get back in the saddle, ready for what this new chapter of his time as a hunter will bring him.
Of course, there are other things that Jaehan needs to take time to get used to.
As he expected, being the leader of seven other men is challenging. Perhaps doubly so for the fact that they all came from previous groups that had their own specific ways of doing things. Sure, at their core, they’re all hunters. They’ve all been through similar experiences and have similar training. In certain situations, their reactions are all basically the same. But past that, it’s becoming apparent they’re nothing alike.
Junghoon, for instance, has absolutely no idea how to file a job report properly. Apparently, he’s never submitted one in his entire hunter’s career, and somehow was allowed to get away with that because his previous leader had been anal about his own records. It’d be downright impressive if Jaehan wasn’t the one who had to show him how to do it correctly.
On the other side of things, Yechan seems to expect they’re going to approach their work with a level of meticulousness that nobody else in the house could ever possibly hope to live up to. Apparently, the local team he came from had been a stickler for protocol over basically everything else. But, as Hwichan is quick to point out, local teams have a lot less to do than other people do. They have time to be picky. Specialist teams, considering how busy they are, do not.
And those are just the little differences. The more alarming ones are the ones that have popped up on jobs, especially when he assigns more than one team to the same problem. Hwichan and Taedong tend towards quick, decisive action. Hangyeom meanwhile needs to know what he’s doing before he starts anything, and Junghoon goes along with it ninety-five percent of the time, with the other five percent being vehement and bullheaded disagreement. And then of course there’s Jinwoo, who would rather eat glass than listen to anyone other than Jaehan give him direction.
Needless to say, this sort of thing has been cropping up pretty often. Whether it’s their ways of going about handling Bureau regulations, or little habits they’ve picked up on in the field, there’s a lot of learning required to mesh their lives together. It helps, Jaehan decides, they’d spent a year together before ever seeing active duty. Even when he has to break up a shouting match between Jinwoo and Junghoon after they come back from a particularly stressful job, there’s common ground to fall back on.
He knows these men, inside and out. Being coworkers might be difficult, but they’ll all always be a weird little family first.
All of that aside, however, Jaehan isn’t as stressed as he thought he’d be. Considering some of the horror stories he’s heard about being a leader, it hasn’t been that bad. Sure, there’s a lot of work involved, and it’s a huge amount of responsibility. He’s doing about twice as much work as he ever did when he was just a hunter, and as much help as Sebin and Hangyeom give, there’s always going to be things only he can take care of.
The flip-side, though, is that it’s twice as rewarding. At the end of the day, when everybody who is currently at home is curled up in the living room and quiet, he’s able to admit that it’s worth it. As long as he keeps moving forward, these men are going to support him.
They aren’t going to crash and burn like he’s been a little worried they would.
Though those first few jobs he sends his new teams on are… a bit disastrous, after that everything starts running smoothly. Or, as smoothly as a specialist team can run. He’s discovering just how much extra work the special, handpicked people of the Bureau really get dumped on them. Jaehan thinks he’s starting to agree with Sebin and Junghoon that the pay isn’t nearly enough, and that no amount ever could be. That being said, it’s nice to be someone that people rely on.
The more he does this whole leader thing, the more aware Jaehan becomes of how important something like that is to him. It’s hard to put a price on feeling like he’s actually making a difference.
On the subject of other hunters relying on him, it’s been nice, reconnecting with some of the hunter community. Within his first week, Jaehan’s able to get in touch with Chan, and he ends up with the man’s number attached to the fridge, just in case they need it. Obviously, Chan is running a regional team and it’s on an entirely different continent from Jaehan, but if there’s an emergency, he thinks he trusts the other man to help with it over anybody else.
He also finally manages to find out what happened to the other people who had once been on his old team. They’re surprised to hear from him again, especially after all this time, but Dongkyu definitely seems happy about it. He’s eager to find out what Jaehan’s been up to in the year since they’ve spoken and share stories of his own. Apparently, he and Seunghyun are still partners and they’re still going strong on a different regional team. Right now, they’re somewhere in China, but they promise the next chance they have to take a vacation, they’ll come visit.
Jaehan obviously still wishes they’d reached out a long time ago, but after talking to Minjae, he understands why they didn’t. It’s hard, bridging the gaps the Bureau puts between them. It’s painful, and more than that, it’s daunting. Confusing. You become uncertain if the connections you made with someone were real, or just another part of the job. And the possibility of finding out that someone who meant something to you doesn’t really care in return is a scary one.
For a lot of people, this really is ‘just a job’. For others, they treat it as ‘just a job’ by necessity. So it doesn’t hurt as much when someone gets transferred or someone dies.
Jaehan thinks he’s broken out of that mindset. Granted, he doesn’t think he had it much to begin with, but there was a moment there where emotional distance looked tempting. Where he might’ve adopted it purely out of necessity. Now, he thinks he understands both sides.
The Bureau cultivates an environment of emotional detachment because it makes hunters easier to handle. Easier to move where they want and be convinced to do things that would otherwise be impossible. It’s a callous choice to be sure, but it’s one they make out of necessity. It’s easier when hunters aren’t attached.
But on the other side of things, Jaehan knows from talking to other hunters, from the instructors at the Academy, from his own teams, both current and past, that it’s those bonds that make this job worth doing. If you let them fall apart, if you let the Bureau win, you’re going to burn out. The difficulties of being a hunter will kill you and they’ll do it far quicker than any job gone wrong could.
Which is why he’s made a promise to himself to make those connections. Not just with his own team, but with other people they interact with in the future. He wants to build himself a community with this second chance, he wants a home. He wants to have friends, not just colleagues. Sure, people might be dismissive of the idea, but let them be. He gets it now, the Bureau can’t take that understanding away from him.
The first group of new people that Jaehan and his team end up befriending is the district team that operates close by.
As was predicted, they’re quite happy that a specialist team has decided to drop by and lend a permanent hand. Apparently, considering the amount of demon activity in the area, the nearby regional team also tends to drop by frequently, but this particular district team is usually the one that assesses whatever threats are popping out of the rift and decides how the resulting jobs need to be handled.
In Jaehan’s opinion, they’re all lovely. Half of them are young compared to his own group of boys, but he thinks that just aids the inevitable process of getting attached.
Lim Jimin, their leader, is a sturdy sort of hunter. Easy going, good at getting to the point and good at keeping his men on task when their attention wanders. Apparently, despite getting initially scouted by a local team in Spain, the Bureau decided to shift him all the way out to Brazil after a solid four years of Academy training. Now, he’s got a team of his own, and though they’re nowhere near as chaotic as Jaehan’s own team, they’re interesting in their own right.
There’s Jimin’s partner, Geonwoo, a leporid who’s quick on his feet, and not nearly as skittish as Jaehan expects him to be. Next, there’s Doyum, a half dwarf dragon who the Bureau labeled human on all the paperwork. Ironically, as a changeling, his partner, Byeongyhee, looks more human than he does. Then there’s Sangwoo, the youngest on the team and easily the most serious, and his partner JM, a tiny vampire who got stuck out here after taking one too many demonology classes in the Academy.
Coincidentally, Yechan of all people knows one of the people on Jimin’s team. Apparently, he and Doyum were on the same local team back in the day, the same one that had sent Yechan off to the Bureau after his partner retired.
Understandably, there’s a certain amount of… animosity there when the two reconnect.
Yechan still harbors a grudge. After all, he was abandoned when he needed support the most. Doyum, meanwhile, seems to remember things differently. It wasn’t that they’d wanted to get rid of Yechan, it’s that the Bureau had deemed the unpartnered humans on their team unsuitable to be put with a gargoyle. Without any other options available, their hand had been forced.
At the time, Doyum himself had been partnered. He swears that under different circumstances, he would’ve snatched Yechan up in a heartbeat, just to keep the gargoyle close to home. As it was, he was never given that opportunity. Seunghwan had been their chance to keep Yechan, and after that hadn’t worked, the Bureau hadn’t cared.
Ultimately though, it wouldn’t have mattered one way or another because the Bureau had reorganized that local team a month after Yechan left, splitting them all up to either cover different areas or be handed promotions. Doyum had been one of those people promoted, which, obviously, had landed him here on his first district team, with a new partner, a new leader, and a much more exciting job than he used to have.
Jaehan’s initially a little worried that the history between the two men is going to make things awkward between their teams, but the second time they run across Jimin’s team, Yechan and Doyum have already decided they’re over it. They’re much more interested in wrestling each other, having a good time, and yelling loud enough that he thinks the demons on the other side of the rift can probably hear them.
“It’ll be fine,” Hwichan insists, a sparkling smile on his face.
“Uh huh,” Jaehan mutters, looking away from where Doyum has somehow managed to get Yechan in a headlock to where Taedong is delightedly chasing Geonwoo around the base, much to the leporid’s displeasure. “Fine.”
“I think it’s great,” Sebin announces, settling down in the beaten up lawn chair beside Jaehan. “Just look how much fun they’re having!”
From somewhere, Jaehan swears he hears JM yell out, “Oh void mind the teeth! Don’t bite him too hard!”
If nothing else, Jaehan’s glad to have friends.
While for the most part he’s adjusting well to this whole new team business, the one thing Jaehan can’t say he’s fond of is how they have absolutely no free time. Obviously, it comes with the territory, but he’d gotten used to quiet evenings and being able to be lazy every now and then if he wanted to be. Now, he’s constantly moving, and so are the rest of his boys.
If they’re not on jobs, they’re filing reports and cataloging all the old files left behind by the last team who lived here. If they’re taking a break from paperwork, there are always errands to run, and if they’re not running errands, they’re sleeping. Considering how many people are stuffed into the same house, sleep, in general, is rare. Jaehan has learned to take what he can get. None of his men have gotten any quieter now that they’re back out on the field, after all, and unless he’s on a job, there’s always someone around who needs his attention.
Not that he’s complaining, he doesn’t mind helping in the slightest, but it’s almost funny just how many little problems crop up that he’s got to solve. He gives up on keeping his bedroom door closed within the first two days, he gives up on sleeping in his own room after the first week. Where and when Jaehan gets rest is entirely up to the void, and to the other seven people he lives with.
He thinks it takes about a month and a half for him to finally get a moment mostly to himself.
Honestly, Jaehan hadn’t even thought he’d get this much, but his day spent at the local branch of the NHII ends up being more of a half-day, and he manages to get back to the base well before Sebin comes back from the job he was helping the nearby regional team take care of. Junghoon and Hangyeom are currently a continent away, dealing with a bigger, blood magic related job that the two seemed especially suited for. Meanwhile, he’s got Hwichan and Taedong currently on a plane headed for somewhere in South Africa.
The only people in the house right now are Jinwoo and Yechan, though Jaehan can only assume the moment he checks his email, that’s going to change. Someone will need them somewhere, and it’ll be up to him to make sure they’re packed before shipping them off to their next job.
That being said, as long as there aren’t any immediate emergencies, he can probably spare himself and them an afternoon of quiet. Just one.
“Probably for the best,” Jinwoo decides stoutly, when Jaehan sheepishly admits to his own decision. “Yechannie’s out exploring anyway. It’d be a pain to go hunt him down.”
“It wouldn’t be that hard,” Jaehan tells the man with a chuckle, relaxing back onto the old leather couch they inherited with the base. “Especially if he’s flying. I think we’d see him coming from a mile away.”
“And there are a lot of miles!” Jinwoo instantly returns with, crossing his arms. “Besides, you’re the one who wants a day off.” When Jaehan just laughs harder, the other hunter sticks out his bottom lip in a pout. “Maybe I’m giving you an excuse. What about that?”
Expression crinkling fondly, Jaehan catches his breath before deciding, “Alright, alright, if it’s an excuse you’re giving me, I’ll take it.”
“Well, now I regret it,” Jinwoo mutters, looking away.
“No you don’t.” When Jaehan gets a glare, he just meets it with an indulgently fond look. It’s nice, not having to worry about the consequences of what he thinks and feels, he could get used to it. Hopefully, this is a chance to do so.
Eventually, after a moment of squirming in his chair and scowling, the younger hunter relents with a sigh. “Clearly you don’t need my help to slack off. Next time I’ll remember not to bother.” Jinwoo’s eyes gleam as he says it though, which is as good as him plainly stating he doesn’t mean it.
“Harsh,” Jaehan declares, shifting on the couch until he’s more comfortably sprawled out. “But fair.” Tossing a teasing look at Jinwoo, he hums, “I guess I’ll have to arrange my own alone time. If the rest of you ever give me a chance.” The backs of his thighs stick to the old leather, reminding him of the heat. They’ve got the air conditioning cranked up as far as it’ll allow, but it only does so much. Even with overhead fans going in almost every room, it’s midday and that desert sun isn’t fucking around.
“What, you trying to subtly tell me to fuck off?” When Jaehan starts to lurch upright, Jinwoo’s serious expression splits into a mischievous grin. “You’ll have to try harder than that. Assign me to a job if you want me out of your hair. Otherwise, you’re stuck with me.”
His tongue pokes out from between his teeth. Fixating on that expression for a second too long, it takes Jaehan a while to form a response.
“I’ll look through my email tomorrow.” Finding Jinwoo’s eyes once more, Jaehan chuckles. “Technically, I’m still supposed to be up at the facility. As far as they know, I don’t get home until late tonight. If I don’t take care of any business in the meantime, they won’t bother me.” At least, not in any ways he can’t ignore. Especially with Jinwoo here to distract him.
“I’m not complaining.” Stretching out over the armchair he sits in, Jinwoo stretches his arms as far over his head as they’ll go. “I mean, oh no, I may finally get a day off. How horrifying.”
“How’s it been going, by the way?” Jaehan cocks his head to the side. “I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk to you since we got here.”
Expression distancing somewhat, Jinwoo stares sightlessly up at the rattling ceiling fan. “It’s… weird. It’s weird to be back out there. But I think you already knew that.” His lips quirk up. “I’m enjoying it though. I missed being out there. I missed doing things. Moving again is nice.”
He’s right, it is weird. Though Jaehan’s self assigned jobs are usually on the simpler side of things, considering his lack of a partner, he’s been out a handful of times already, and he’s even brought Sebin along. On one hand, it really is like riding a bike, in that you never forget it once you learn, but on the other hand sometimes it feels surreal. Like a dream he’s going to wake up from, because for the longest time the only hunts he went on were in nightmares.
But at the same time, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Weird, but good,” he sums up, with a little nod of agreement. “Not how I would have phrased it, but you’re not wrong.”
“It’s crazy, if you’d told me I’d be doing something like this a couple years ago, I would have run the other way.” Laughing, Jinwoo curls up on himself, his face pinched in mirth. “I mean, get serious! I’m just a district hunter. I don’t think I saw anything above a B class threat ever. I don’t belong out there risking my neck quite that much. Now look at me.”
“I think you’re doing alright,” Jaehan reassures, though he suspects Jinwoo already agrees with him.
As his laughter peters out, Jinwoo curls up a bit tighter before relaxing every muscle at once. Puddling in his chair, hand dragging limply against the floor as he does, the man lets out a breath. “You know, that possession case you handed me last week was actually a case of jumping possession. There was a very real chance of it ending up inside of me, but I wasn’t- it didn’t phase me, hyung. I didn’t even blink.”
“They put you in the right place.” Though he can’t reach out and touch Jinwoo from this distance, Jaehan still reaches out a hand for a second. “They knew you’d be able to take this kind of stress, so they gave you to me.”
“Nah, the Bureau didn’t do shit.” Jinwoo’s grin is wide and genuine. “I’m the one who picked you. Or maybe you picked me.” He shrugs. “They just signed the paperwork, this was fate.”
There’s that word again. Jaehan used to shy away from it. Now, he doesn’t find it nearly so scary. In a certain way, Jinwoo is right, because even if fate doesn’t exist at all, there was very little the Bureau could have done to keep them away from each other forever.
“Doesn’t change my point,” Jaehan points out. “Fate or not, you still belong here.”
Thinking about it for a moment, Jinwoo absently thunks his head back against the arm of the chair before murmuring, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
As Jinwoo’s loose button-up shifts to the side, Jaehan catches sight of the edge of the man’s bond mark, standing out dark red against tanned skin. After a few months with it, the magic in the brand has fully settled down, no longer that glowing violant color that bleeds into the skin around it. It looks good, like it belongs there, like it might as well have been around for years. Though Jaehan has seen it many times before, he still finds it catching on something in his mind.
“How are you and Yechan doing?”
Blinking, Jinwoo rolls the question around in his mouth. “Good,” he settles on. A second later, his face contorts. “He is nothing like my last partner.”
When Jaehan just lifts an eyebrow, Jinwoo’s cheeks puff out. “My last partner was just… I don’t know, less overpowering? Not that Yechan is overpowering in a bad way, he’s just- he’s a lot.” Scowling, Jinwoo’s face contorts as he whines, “Alright, hold on, now I sound like an asshole.”
“I never said you were.” Holding up his hands in surrender, Jaehan chuckles. “You’re allowed to feel however you want about Yechan, I just wanted to make sure it was going well.”
“It is.” Falling silent for a moment, Jinwoo lifts a hand and rubs at the spot where Jaehan knows the scar of his old bond mark sits. “Rubin-hyung was… steady. Always steady. Even when he had no right to be. Everything was always going to turn out alright, there was never anything to worry about because he said there wasn’t. He was always the limiter on my… everything, I guess.”
“Yechan isn’t?” Jaehan extrapolates delicately.
Jinwoo’s face splits into a smile. “He’s just the one making sure the plans work. Or that I can back up the shit I talk. He feeds it. We feed into each other. And he’s so intense, there’s no room for me to worry. And when he falters, I’m usually going too fast to let it trip us up.” Shrugging, the motion made awkward by his slumped position, the man adjusts until he’s better able to focus on Jaehan. “So yeah, you could say it’s going fine.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Jaehan says, with a wide, genuine grin.
Unexpectedly, Jinwoo narrows his eyes. “Do you ever care that they didn’t give you a partner?”
Momentarily shocked, Jaehan’s smile freezes. Because if he’s being honest, the matter of him not having a partner does cross his mind every now and then. Sure, he’s not the only hunter here who’s unpartnered, Sebin’s also on his own, but that situation feels different. The man is alone because he only just got out of his last bond and wasn’t prepared for another one. Jaehan’s had over a year to recover, and yet the Bureau decided to leave him on his own.
Clearly, they didn’t care much about the size of Jaehan’s team when putting them together, so he’s not alone because of that. But barring that, why?
He doesn’t have an answer, there are so many decisions the Bureau has made he doesn’t have an answer for. A year ago, that might have been something that troubled Jaehan. At this point, he knows that what actually matters is how he handles what’s been handed to him. Let the Bureau keep their secrets, he knows enough about himself to be satisfied.
“I think about it sometimes,” Jaehan admits, reanimating his facial muscles enough for a slightly rueful expression. “But I don’t think I need a partner. I have an entire team, that’s plenty for me.” With a slightly silly grin, he adds, “I have Hwichan, I have you. I’m happy.”
Staring at him, Jinwoo shakes his head, like that’ll hide the flush on his face. “It was a serious question.”
“That was my serious answer,” Jaehan promises.
“Shut up,” Jinwoo complains, wriggling in his chair. “No it wasn’t.”
“It was.” Leaning back against the couch, Jaehan’s eyes slip closed. “The things I miss about having a partner are things I get from the rest of you. Sure it looks different than a bond, but I think I… prefer it this way? If I had to pick one or the other.”
“And if you could have both?”
Jaehan’s nose wrinkles. “I’d still pick this.”
When Jinwoo doesn’t respond, Jaehan cracks an eye and pats the spot on the couch next to him. “Come here, stop thinking so much.”
Grumbling, Jinwoo unfolds himself and stumbles to his feet. “Shut up,” he repeats, like he’s not already crossing the tiny living room. Closing his eyes again, Jaehan waits for the familiar dip of the couch cushions as the other man settles beside him. What he doesn’t expect is for Jinwoo’s weight to end up in his lap.
Eyes flying open, Jaehan looks up at Jinwoo and finds himself dazed. He looks better than he used to. The dark circles permanently tattooed under his eyes have started to fade, the sallowness of his skin has lessened. For the first time since Jaehan met Jinwoo, he’s actually sporting a proper tan. It brings out the silvery scars on his arms, makes his smiles seem all the brighter.
This close, he’s practically glowing. Like the sun has stuck to him through frequent exposure. Jaehan swears that’s part of why Jinwoo’s so hot where they touch. Even in contrast to the eternal dry heat of this particular base, he’s warm.
Fixing his eyes on the sheen of sweat on the man’s temples, as well as along the sliver of skin that peeks out from beneath his loose button up, Jaehan thinks his own body temperature rises.
“If you think you’re going to impress me by being mushy and talking about feelings, you won’t,” Jinwoo states plainly, the pout on his face deepening somehow. “You’d do that all the time if we let you.”
“What, embarrassed?” Wrapping his arms around the man’s waist, Jaehan draws him closer, until their bodies are pressed together, oppressive heat momentarily forgotten. “It’s okay if you are, but that’s not going to stop me.”
“Fuck off, I’m not.” Despite the harsh words, Jinwoo leans into him, swaying dangerously close to Jaehan’s face. “I just… want you to be happy. Like the rest of us.”
Ghosting a hand up Jinwoo’s back, Jaehan carefully settles his fingers in the man’s hair. “I am happy.”
Searching his eyes, Jinwoo lets out a breath, one that plays over Jaehan’s lips.
“Okay.”
No longer thinking, Jaehan closes the distance.
Jinwoo gives into the kiss willingly, maybe even eagerly. Jaehan doesn’t complain, has no reason to even if he could have found the words necessary. He just enjoys the warmth of it, the way Jinwoo’s thighs tense up on either side of his lap, and the frantic edge it takes on after a second, like both of them are remembering just how long it’s been since they last had this.
Too long, he decides, allowing himself to give into that greed within him that always demands more. Long enough that a few kisses are enough to have his head spinning and Jinwoo giving a distinct whine against his mouth.
Ah fuck it, we have the day off, Jaehan reasons, as his fingers end up somewhere under the hem of Jinwoo’s shirt. We’ve both earned it.
It doesn’t take more than a handful of minutes for him to have Jinwoo sprawled out on the couch below him, shirt unbuttoned and that flush spreading up to the tips of his ears. Distantly, Jaehan’s aware that something about it feels different now, but it takes him a bit to put the pieces together. This scene is intimately familiar, right down to the way Jinwoo wiggles and whines under his hands, but there’s something else, something deeper.
Jinwoo’s eyes meet his, and Jaehan sees it there, past the neediness. The overwhelming trust, and dare he say it, the love.
Right.
Because this is his now. Not just for a little while, not just until some higher power remembers otherwise. No, Jaehan gets to want as well as have.
Admittedly, it’s a little overwhelming, how correct it all feels.
“Yechan’s going to know,” Jinwoo warns, his breathing unsteady, his pupils already dilated. Clearly, the thought isn’t stopping him from squirming closer and arching up into Jaehan’s hands. “The bond mark- he can feel it now.”
“That’s fine,” Jaehan hums. Leaning closer, he presses his nose up against the side of Jinwoo’s neck and smiles when the man shivers. “He can have his turn with you when I’m done.”
“Fuck,” Jinwoo breathes.
“Hopefully.”
Huffing, Jinwoo briefly pushes at Jaehan’s chest before fisting his hands in the older hunter’s shirt. Dragging Jaehan down on top of him, he bites back a soft groan before speaking, the desperation bleeding into his tone as he does.
“Kiss me.”
Yeah, Jaehan thinks he’s settling into being a hunter again just fine.
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
The knock on the door doesn't come until two months after they first arrived. After they've already settled down, after the Bureau’s started sending all their mail to the correct addresses and they've already got a taste of what the next few years are going to look like. It's been a good two months, if busy ones, and Jaehan for one, is satisfied.
If he sits alone with himself for long enough, he’ll be the first to admit there's still something missing there, a little voice in the back of his mind that he can't quite shake. He's getting better at ignoring it, however. After all, he’s got a whole team to worry about now, he doesn’t have time to be caught up in what he doesn’t have. Instead, he buries himself in emails and postal codes and dealing with all the files the Bureau is only now deciding to send him. Detailed accounts of the people that he’s now responsible for, as if he doesn't know the details of those records better than the Bureau ever will.
He's having a pretty good time with it, all things considered. There’s that fear that every time he sends someone out on a job, they won’t come back, but he’s rediscovering the coping mechanisms he already had for that. And of course there’s the issue of Yechan putting holes in everyone’s ceiling ‘for convenience’ but hopefully it’s nothing the smattering of carpentry supplies he picked up the other day won’t solve. Honestly, Jaehan’s biggest issue is keeping anyone from misusing their non-stick pans and ruining the Teflon.
In other words, he’s basically in paradise.
So when he gets a knock at the door, he's not really sure what he expects. Probably, Jimin of the nearby district team, come to hand-deliver a report because no one’s been able to get a signal worth shit for the past four days. Considering the local rift that constantly has demonic energy pouring out of it, Jaehan imagines these blackouts are going to be a more common occurrence than anybody is willing to admit.
It's why he actually takes the time to run a hand through his hair and straighten his clothes before he opens the door. Unfortunately, all pretenses of social decorum fly out the window the moment he sees who it is.
"I told you we’d see you again."
In all his time knowing Kevin, and for that matter, Hyuk, he's never seen them in full hunter gear before. At this point, he seen the rest of his team all suited up, they'd made a point of showing their old uniforms off on the boat ride over here, before they’d ever had a reason to use them. But that had made sense to his brain, because they’d all been given orders and of course they’d eventually need their gear.
This, on the other hand, has him momentarily confused, like seeing his elementary teacher at the grocery store for the first time. Logically it makes sense, but in practice it’s disorienting. The high neck of Kevin’s undershirt peaks up over the collar of his leathers, and though he doesn’t have the usual jacket on him, he does have a harness that holds ammunition for the hand crossbow hooked to the belt.
Hyuk’s outfit… Well, Jaehan's fairly certain that's not standard issue. Usually, there are more shirts involved in hunter attire, and he’d completely forgotten they even made Bureau issued fleece jackets, but admittedly he's got a lot of other things suddenly on his mind, and Hyuk's state of dress is not one of them. Actually, what he's looking at is the bond mark on the man's bare chest. The relatively fresh one, next to the fading scar of his last bond.
"What are the two of you doing here?"
Hyuk's tail swats Kevin’s thigh. "Are you not excited to see us?"
Actually, Jaehan is in the middle of wondering if he’s dozed off on his desk and he's somehow dreaming. This matches too many of his absent fantasies to be real, he's having trouble comprehending it. “What– what's going on?"
Gesturing behind him, Kevin cheerfully says, “Well, considering the fact you have nine people on your team, the Bureau decided to give you a second transit. We're here to deliver it, just to make things easier."
"I have seven people on my team," Jaehan states, as he stares at the two of them and fights back the hope that’s bubbling up in his stomach. "The Bureau said I had seven people. Where are we getting nine?”
Hyuk grins, showing off every single one of his sharp teeth as his tail starts wagging wildly behind him. "We came with orders,” he assures Jaehan, eyes bright. “Don't worry, it's all official."
Slowly accepting the thick manila envelope that Kevin pushes at him, Jaehan lets out a small laugh, before his lips part in a grin. "You're pulling my leg right now. I'm dreaming."
"Sorry," Kevin chirps, a very serious expression on his face. "Once the Bureau signs the orders and puts them into the system, there's nothing you can do. I guess you're going to have to let us in."
It's like that last little raincloud that was hanging over them is finally being dispersed. Jaehan feels it lift, like it's been a tangible weight holding him down. In its place is a feeling of rightness, the magnitude of which Jaehan never thought he'd ever experience.
They’re mine, he realizes, as he registers the names on the envelope. They’re both mine.
"You're right," he agrees, shaking his head in bafflement as he does. "If the Bureau signed the paperwork, that’s it."
As the wagging of his tail picks up speed, Hyuk cranes his neck to see over Jaehan's head before excitedly asking, "Where are the rest of my teammates?” It’s obvious how much he relishes those words, the act of finally calling them a team and being able to mean it. “Where’s Junghoon? How about Yechan? Is Taedong-hyung around?"
"Deep breath, they're all inside. It's still early for us, so half of them are asleep. But I'm sure you-" Before Jaehan even finishes his sentence, Hyuk is tearing past him, only pausing to give him a brief, crushing hug before dashing off.
“Careful, no running in the house,” he calls after the canid, but it's a half-hearted reminder at best. In a moment, there will probably be enough chaos in here that it won’t matter either way.
Kevin reaches out and gives Jaehan’s forearm a comforting pat, and instinctively he feels himself settling. "It's fine, he's just excited. He's hardly been able to sit still this entire trip." There's such a deep fondness in his eyes that it’s palpable. “Plus he had to keep it a secret, and you know how bad he is at that. Let him have his moment.”
Decidedly Jaehan gives in to the request. They can always clean the house up later if it gets trashed. Let the team have a little bit of fun, they’ve earned it
"I have to know, how did you do it?" He still clearly remembers Kevin's promise to him that they wouldn’t be separated for forever, but Jaehan can't help but be surprised that the promise was kept. Stuff like this is difficult to guarantee, especially when you factor in the ever-present hand of the Bureau.
"Well, I've had the past month to work it out, and I won't say it's been simple, but Hyuk may have stolen a couple keycards and I may have forged a few documents." Kevin pauses, before admiring, “Alright, it was more than a few. I basically forged the entire paper trail. The difficult part was just… borrowing the correct stamps.”
“You’re insane.” The smile on Jaehan’s face is so wide it almost hurts. “How did you get them to actually make the call and send you out here?”
Pulling down the collar of his shirt, just enough to show off the edges of a bond mark, Kevin gives a simple smile. "I proved to them that this would be good for Hyuk’s continued mental improvement and from there it was just a matter of convincing them that, according to all the paperwork signed by people much more important than they were, I would be more useful in the field than sitting behind a desk for the next five years. Among other things."
Shaking his head in wonder, Jaehan mutters, "If you had any taste for it, you'd be unstoppable as a bureaucrat. The way you handle paperwork.."
"I know." Kevin's expression goes cheeky. "It’s one of my few actual skills. Don’t worry though, I’ll use it exclusively for good.”
“I’m just glad it brought you back to us,” Jaehan admits, because it sounds better than openly stating he doesn’t give a fuck whether Kevin is pulling the Bureau’s strings for the right reasons or not.
“It helps that you have so many unstable people on your team, or… borderline unstable, technically. And the fact that Hyuk already specialized in occult studies. It made my case a lot simpler."
As the shouting deeper within the house explodes in volume and the chaos begins to truly unfold, Jaehan sits back on his heels with a chuckle and crosses his arms. "I’m glad that our lack of mental stability was finally good for something. You have no idea how much the other boys missed you. It's been good, but…"
"It's been missing something." Kevin nods knowingly. "Yeah, it’s been the same for us. They never forced us to leave the dorms because, well… it was where they assigned Hyuk to stay originally. But it felt horribly empty." The momentary emptiness of the man’s smile suggests just how hard the past month has been on him.
"Yeah, I can only imagine. At least I had the other boys with me." Expression gentling, Jaehan elbows Kevin in the shoulder. "You could've got here sooner, we've already divvied out the rooms. Now we're going to have to rearrange them."
"Oh don't worry about that, Hyuk and I won't take up much space. Promise." As people start spilling out into the main room and several of them start shouting for Jaehan's attention, Kevin gives him a little wink. "Besides, it always turns out fine, doesn't it? I know we’ll make it work.”
Jaehan nods. “Yeah, you're right."
"Did you know they got to take a plane?” Jinwoo yells as he stumbles out of the hallway, fully drawing Jaehan's attention to the mess unfolding before him. "We had to take a boat, Kevin, I swear, I was going to become aquatic."
"Are you hungry," Hangyeom is demanding, fussing with Hyuk’s fur as he follows the canid around the living room. "Have either of you eaten at all today. How long have you been on the plane? Where is your luggage?"
"I'm already grabbing it," Junghoon announces as he worms his way around Kevin and Jaehan, Yechan trailing after him. "We’ll shuffle the rooming arrangements until we’ve got a place for you, but you'll probably have to sleep on the floor until we get your beds."
"Why do I have to sleep on the floor?” Hyuk whines, chasing after Junghoon. “I can just sleep in your bed, right?”
“What- no, you can’t just-”
“No no, he has a point,” Hangyeom agrees. “I think we should hear him out.”
Junghoon gasps. “Who’s side are you on?”
Unexpectedly, Kevin catches Jaehan's arm, distracting him from the people around them. Before he really has a chance to question it, the other hunter is standing on his tiptoes and pressing a fleeting kiss against Jaehan’s cheek.
"It's good to be home, hyung."
Touching his cheek with a slightly baffled expression, warmth blooms in Jaehan's chest.
"Yeah,” he agrees softly. “It's good to be home."
⭑⥊⬠⥋⭑
autocannibal on Chapter 1 Mon 09 Jan 2023 05:37PM UTC
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autocannibal on Chapter 1 Mon 09 Jan 2023 08:47PM UTC
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ASAPnae on Chapter 2 Thu 13 Jul 2023 10:01PM UTC
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autocannibal on Chapter 3 Tue 17 Jan 2023 06:04PM UTC
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notahairnomore on Chapter 3 Thu 11 Jan 2024 10:59AM UTC
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