Chapter Text
Namjoon wondered how much cup ramen a person could eat in one day before vomiting chunks. He was up to cup number five, and it was chicken flavored, so he figured his vomit would be the same strange yellow as the broth. And it would probably have undigested pieces of that weird soggy chicken meat mixed in that most certainly was not chicken at all. Actually he should probably stop thinking about vomit before he ended up making all of his assumptions a cold hard reality.
Quickly finishing off the rest of his cup ramen, Namjoon stretched his arms, unable to get any proper relief of course due to his obnoxiously tall frame. His car, a tiny old blue Sudan he had affectionately named Bae, creaked painfully as he moved around, scraping metal sounding almost like an old woman coughing. Namjoon lovingly caressed the faded leather upholstery in solidarity. He and Bae had truly seen better days. It was a wonder how he had even made it across three state lines without her breaking down.
Namjoon’s phone started vibrating on the dashboard. His hand shot out to answer it, toppling countless empty ramen containers, discarded chip bags, and crushed water bottles. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Namjoon would recognize that voice anywhere. It was the voice of his partner, Jung Hoseok. “The chief saw the latest statement from your card and he wasn’t too happy about it.”
Namjoon groaned. “The chief is never happy with me,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of the corner of his eyes. “And I’m outside a diner-”
“He said you’re going way over budget,” Hoseok continued as if Namjoon hadn’t said anything at all. “And he wanted me to tell you that if you still don’t catch the guy after wasting all the precinct’s money like this, there’d be hell to pay.”
“I checked into a motel,” Namjoon sighed. “ Once . To shower . Can I not even bathe?”
“His words, not mine,” Hoseok replied easily enough. “You know I’d love it if you took care of that face more often. I gotta see it every day after all.”
The two had been sitting across from each other for as long as they’d been on the force. They had been best friends ever since they both entered the Academy together all those years ago, both young and bright and full of justice. And now here Namjoon was, ten years later, a withered shell of what he used to be with a pretty fragile at best idea of what justice really was. In fact, he couldn’t even afford to think about that right now.
Right now he was just trying to keep his job.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” he said, brushing off Hoseok’s typical comments on his appearance. His partner had a point, though. He was tall and tan and pretty buff; if he could just dress better and maybe use any kind of facial cleanser, he’d probably be a hit with the ladies. But his long working hours had a way of beating out any desire for him to do anything but gargle mouthwash and splash water on his face before he left his shitty apartment in the morning. “Anyway, how’d the case go? You in the clear?”
“Who do you think you’re even talking to?” Hoseok shot back. Namjoon could just picture the heart-shaped smirk on his lips now. “Of course we’re in the clear. He confessed to everything in the end. This asshole is going to jail, no bail. I guarantee it.”
“Glad to hear it,” Namjoon said, relief and guilt both gnawing at his chest. “Sorry again.”
“How many times are you going to apologize for an accident?” Hoseok said. “That could’ve happened to anyone. Don’t worry about it.”
“Well it sure as hell seems like it only happens to me…”
This all started with Namjoon and Hoseok’s last case together. Before they were both homicide detectives, and damn good ones. They had the most arrests at their station together. They were also the youngest pair of cops in their precincts, and then Asian American to boot? That was everything any publication could ask for, so the two of them made it on a lot of news channels every time they were assigned to a case. Both of them knew their chief and the other officers didn’t exactly appreciate being outshined by two young upstarts, but as long as neither of them messed up, it was fine. And that’s where it all went wrong.
Namjoon was famous at the Police Academy for his clumsy ways. The poor recruit was constantly breaking mugs, denting walls, mishandling weapons, and so on. He had been nicknamed the God of Destruction by the other recruits, and everyone always told them there was no way someone like him could become a great detective. How right they were. In their last case, a white male in his 30s shot and killed an 18-year-old black female while she was jogging one night as he was stalking her. He had already been charged and given a restraining order by the girl, which he had admitted in court to being in violation of, but he insisted that he had not committed the murder but actually had witnessed the murder and the man’s lawyer used this testimony as a chance to say his client should be seen as some sort of unlikely hero for calling and reporting the murder and that his sentence should even be reduced for violating the restraining order. But Hoseok had felt differently, and Namjoon had long known never to go against his partner’s hunches. They searched the entire park until they finally found the murder weapon in question, and Hoseok entrusted the gun with Namjoon to submit to evidence while he continued to gather witness statements. It had been very late at night, and no one was at the evidence desk when Namjoon arrived, so he arrogantly decided to fill out the paperwork himself and walked behind the counter to take care of it. He rammed his head into the door frame as he turned to leave the counter, causing the gun to slip from the bag encasing it, and without thinking Namjoon reached out to grab it with his bare hands before it could clatter to the ground, thus getting his own fingerprints on the murder weapon. A split second reflex was all it took to completely invalidate their most important piece of evidence.
“It must have been hard for you,” Namjoon said. “Sorry I haven’t been around to help.”
“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like the chief would’ve even let you near any of the files anyway,” Hoseok said. “And besides now I can add Youngest Detective To Single-Handedly Get A Full Confession On Delayed Case to my long list of accomplishments.”
Namjoon chuckled. “You really don’t need to get any more big-headed.”
“Anyway, where did you say you were? How’s the search going?”
The chief dove on this colossal blunder and immediately had Namjoon removed from the case under suspicion of tampering with evidence. The only murder weapon now unable to be submitted in court, Hoseok then had no choice but to somehow get a complete confession out of the defendant. Luckily the court date was postponed, so he had time to gather some other supporting testimonies but Hoseok was forced to do it alone while Namjoon was demoted and put in the cyber crime division, where detective careers went to die.
And to make matters worse, the perp he was assigned to try and apprehend was none other than the most notorious identity thief in the Midwest. He was so elusive that even after months of searching for patterns in the identities he stole, Namjoon could only generally describe him as a male in maybe his mid 20s to late 40s based off spending habits and desperate Google searches of what someone in that demographic would typically buy. There was also a rumor in the underground chat rooms that he was supposedly ridiculously handsome, but that wasn’t a very helpful lead for Namjoon.
Namjoon groaned. “I’ve traced him to somewhere in South Dakota,” he explained. “Last transaction was at a pretty swanky place in Pierre, and I’m going off a tip and trying to intercept him at his next stop. Some diner that’s probably a front for something else on this dirt road in the middle of nowhere.”
“You sure you can trust that tip?” Hoseok asked suspiciously.
“I ain’t got nothing else to lose,” Namjoon replied. “And also there was something bugging me about a few past transactions. I can’t be sure, but it feels like someone was scrambling invoice numbers. They make machines for that in the black market, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. You figured that out from staring at numbers?”
“I was looking for patterns,” Namjoon said. “All invoice numbers follow one, it’s not completely randomized. But a few invoice numbers didn’t. And I think this diner is the place our perp’s been going to that’s scrambling them to hide its location.”
“A diner?” Hoseok repeated. “Okay, my brain hurts just listening to this. I’m going to stick to the people side of detective work I think. This is too many numbers.”
“Numbers are easier to me,” Namjoon mumbled. He wasn’t exactly happy about being put in the cyber crime division, but he had to admit that it might be a better fit for someone like him than homicide at least in the brains department. Namjoon had always been the top recruit in any written exam they took.
“Well, good luck with that,” Hoseok said. “I just wanted to call to warn you about the budget. The chief said any more big spends like the motel and he is gonna cancel the card we gave. So I’d hurry back home if this stake out doesn’t work out.”
“Yeah, I will,” Namjoon agreed. “I don’t think Bae is gonna make it much longer.”
“You drove that far in your deadbeat car?!”
“Hey. Don’t speak bad about my Bae.”
“I can’t believe you…”
Namjoon hung up the phone and glanced through his window at the diner across the street. He had been staking it out for over a week now, but no luck. He was running out of money for food and he needed to put gas in Bae for the long trip back home. This would probably be his last day. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror, smoothing back his greasy hair and trying unsuccessfully to wipe a stain off his button up. He was gross and sweaty. It didn’t help that he had spent the last few days sleeping in his car with no working AC unit.
Jimin was definitely going to say something.
Namjoon opened the door to his car and stepped out into the glaring sun. He shielded his eyes from the oppressive rays as he walked across the street. The bell attached to the door of the diner dinged pleasantly as blessed AC blew right onto Namjoon’s sweaty sweaty face. He sighed in content. The diner, named JM’s Diner, was a classic fifties theme with red barstools and red booths. It even had a jukebox constantly playing some popular older songs from different decades and posters of Elvis Presley in his trademark white leotard. Namjoon walked over and sat down on his usual bar stool.
“Hi there, stranger,” a voice said as the waiter emerged from the kitchen.
“Hey, Jimin,” Namjoon greeted the waiter warmly.
Jimin was an adorable petite man with chubby cheeks and an infectious smile. He was always wearing a collared white shirt and a black bow tie with a black apron wrapped around waist covered in dozens of cartoon buttons. His hair was curly and pink, and he had dozens of piercings littering his ears. He also was always sporting a full face of makeup, each day a slightly different overly complex style that Namjoon swore he had to have followed a Youtube tutorial to achieve. Today’s face included a permanent pink blush on his cheeks and freckles along with glitter and little white hearts dotted around the eyes. It was quite cute. But then again, Namjoon always found Jimin to be cute.
The sparkling younger man was the only person working at this secluded diner besides the cook. The man, whose name was apparently Yoongi, was always just sitting in a chair in the kitchen with his headphones in watching something on his phone until Jimin yelled an order at him. He seemed to be disinterested in everything happening around him, the complete opposite of the curious and friendly Jimin.
“Just coffee again?” Jimin asked, already turning away to start a fresh pot of coffee. “You should really try Yoongi’s breakfast at least once. It’s so yummy! I’m probably going to get fat at this rate.”
“Fat could never be used to describe you,” Namjoon said immediately. “You’re too small as it is.”
Jimin grinned blatantly at the comment, winking at Namjoon. “Joonie, you’re such a charmer. I love it. Yoongi never compliments me even though I’m this cute. Isn’t that just terrible?”
“The worst,” Namjoon agreed, once again checking through the partially open door to see if the cook was hearing any of this. Jimin said something similar to Namjoon every single day, but it didn’t seem like the cook- his boyfriend perhaps?- was paying much attention. If he was, he just ignored it, not moving from his chair at all as he watched whatever was on his phone stoically. Jimin placed a fresh cup of black coffee in front of Namjoon.
“Thanks,” the detective said with a salute, taking a sip of the hot bitter liquid and willing the caffeine to confuse his empty stomach into thinking it was full.
“You’re welcome,” Jimin said cheerfully, leaning against the counter with a cute pout on his face. “No customers today either, huh? Lately you’re our only regular.”
Namjoon looked around the completely empty diner. It was the middle of the lunch rush, but not a single car even passed by outside. It had been like that every day Namjoon had been watching this place. He wondered how they actually made their money, because it definitely wasn’t from selling a single refillable black coffee to Namjoon each day. He had thought he would figure it out during the night, but no one had come by so far. If they were selling drugs or weapons, surely there would’ve been at least one transporter coming by?
“Guess you’re stuck with me again today,” Namjoon said with a small smile. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not like that,” Jimin said quickly, shaking his head in a panic. Namjoon had to resist the urge to coo at him. “I love talking to you, Joonie! You know so many cool facts and stories. Like yesterday, you told me what happens to a body when it’s frozen to death. I never would’ve thought that a person would have such a sudden flash of heat once their nerves started to die that they’d strip completely naked.”
“Yeah, imagine finding something like that,” Namjoon said. Not that he had to even imagine it. He had been in the homicide division a long time after all. “As your organs shut down one by one and you lose all functionality, the dilation of the blood vessels on the surface of your skin causes you to feel extremely hot all of a sudden and strip off all of your clothes.”
“Fascinating,” Jimin said, eyes sparkling with interest. This young man’s response to his details about imminent death should probably alarm Namjoon, but frankly he didn’t have much else to talk about. “What else?”
“Ah, have I ever told you what happens to the flesh when you cauterize a wound? It’s actually pretty interesting, so-“
Just then the door opened and someone walked in. Namjoon quickly turned slightly away from Jimin, who was turning towards the door with a polite serving smile to greet the new arrival, and took another long sip of his bitter black coffee. This was the first time a customer had come to this dinner in almost a week besides Namjoon himself. His heart started to race with anticipation. Could it be…?
Namjoon steeled his nerves and decided to look up to get a proper assessment. He may have fucked up that last case, but he was still a damn good detective; there wasn’t a lot out there that could surprise him anymore. But even all Namjoon’s years of police training and experience as an undercover cop couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping at the sight before him.
A man wearing a cowboy hat, sunglasses, and a bandana wrapped around his face had walked in. And as if that wasn’t enough to make an impression, he was also wearing a bright pink button up, tan cargo shorts, sandals and socks. Namjoon didn’t think he had ever seen a more ridiculous looking person in his life.
“Howdy, partner,” the man said, dramatically tipping the brim of his hat.
Jimin burst out laughing. He laughed so hard tears started leaking from his eyes. The mystery man sauntered over to the counter and took a seat on a stool two seats down from where Namjoon was sitting. Jimin still hadn’t stopped laughing, and the way his shoulders were shaking, he wasn’t going to anytime soon.
“You’re as mean as ever,” the man commented.
“Sorry about that,” Jimin wheezed. He didn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “But have you seen yourself? You can hardly blame me.”
“...I think the hat looks kind of cool.”
Jimin started laughing again.
“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” the man grumbled with an annoyed huff. He reluctantly snatched the cowboy hat off and set it on the table, revealing a head of dyed blonde hair and rather young-looking eyes. “There? Happy now?”
“You didn’t have to take it off so soon,” Jimin pouted. “I wanted to take a picture to show Yoongi…”
“Ass.”
“It’s my best feature,” Jimin said back with another confident wink that didn’t seem to have any effect on the mystery man at all.
“If anyone wants to talk about ‘best features’, they need only look in my direction.”
Namjoon listened intently while pretending to be scrolling through his phone. These two definitely knew each other. His gut was telling him that something was for sure up. He would have to proceed carefully…
“Wait, I don’t have time for this,” the man said suddenly. “Jimin, give me an American-style breakfast platter. And make it to go.”
Jimin quirked an eyebrow at that, but otherwise his facial expression didn’t change. “That’s a big order,” he said, glancing back towards the kitchen where Yoongi was no doubt still watching videos on his phone. “It might take a while.”
“Well, tell Yoongi to hurry up,” the man said dismissively. “I’m hungry .”
Jimin groaned. “You always show up and demand the impossible…” he complained under his breath. “Yoongi! I need an American breakfast to go! And make it fast!”
The man chuckled happily under his bandana. “I knew I could count on you,” he said affectionately. Jimin just rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen to help Yoongi with the order, leaving the two customers alone.
Namjoon gripped his mug tightly in his hands. To any average passerby, that conversation probably didn’t give any cause for alarm. The two seemed friendly with each other as well, so asking a friend for a favor was hardly out of the ordinary. After all, was it a crime to want your food quickly? But Namjoon knew better.
That entire conversation had been code. And while Namjoon didn’t know exactly what this mystery man had just ordered, the detective knew one thing for sure. He had found his perp.
“Hey,” the man suddenly said, jolting Namjoon out of his thoughts. “Hey, you.”
“Y-yeah?” Namjoon answered hesitantly, not looking in the man’s direction. The detective had been hoping his presence wouldn’t be acknowledged by the other man. He really didn’t want to blow his cover now that he was so close.
“Looks like you’re just drinking coffee over there,” the man observed. “You a drifter?”
Namjoon nodded stiffly. “S-something like that…”
“I bet you come in here often.”
Namjoon’s blood ran cold. Was he already found out?! “I’m just in the area…”
“‘In the area’?” the man gestured to the empty street outside the empty diner. “There’s nothing in the area.”
Shit. “W-well…”
“That’s your car parked across the way, isn’t it? It looks like you’ve been living in it.”
“Like I said, I’m just traveling-”
“I know why you’re here.”
Namjoon’s entire body tensed at that. This guy was good. Any more lying at this point would be useless. He pictured his gun, nestled in the glove compartment of his car across the street. He was such an idiot. Even if it was just a stakeout, he should’ve brought it with him. All Namjoon had on him was his badge and handcuffs. Would he be able to disarm the guy in time..?
“You do, huh?” Namjoon said with a confident smirk he didn’t feel. He opted to taunt his opponent back.
The man nodded. “It’s so obvious, man,” he said with a sigh.
“I don’t think I was that obvious.” Damn. This perp was starting to hurt his feelings.
“You come in here countless days on end, order nothing but black coffee, and sit at that stool probably until closing time, and you think no one knows what you’re up to?” the man asked, running a hand through his blonde hair as he regarded Namjoon with what looked like pity in his eyes. “Look, I’m gonna just put you out of your misery.”
Namjoon’s eyes widened. “Put him out of his misery”? Was he carrying a weapon in those cargo shorts? So they were for practicality after all!
Namjoon had no choice. His cover was already blown anyway. He jumped up off his stool, brandishing his badge as the man reached for something with his hands, most likely a weapon. This was it. Namjoon was determined to go down like a cop in the end. If he was going to be shot down here, so be it. It was do or die.
“Police! Put your hands-”
“Jimin has a boyfriend-”
The two stopped, staring at each other in shock. The blonde man had in fact not been reaching for a weapon at all, but his bandana to pull it down. And underneath that offensive garment was flawless smooth skin, a slim flattering nose, and pink plump lips slightly opened in surprise. Dimly, Namjoon recalled those ridiculous rumors he had read online. Well, maybe not so ridiculous anymore. The face that was looking back at him right now could only be described as breathtakingly beautiful.
“You’re…” Namjoon breathed, though he didn’t know what he was about to say. He had never felt like this before.
The other man was not so tongue-tied. “You’re a fucking cop ?!”
Jimin came bursting from the kitchen door at that moment. “Why are you two yell- oh hell, Jin, what the fuck did you reveal your face for? Namjoon’s a cop!”
Namjoon blinked. “You knew?” he asked. Jimin rolled his eyes.
“Well, duh. You made it so obvious,” the petite man said shrugging. “Next time you might wanna brush up on topics that don’t involve so much brutal murder.”
The detective couldn’t say anything back to that. Jimin had a point, after all. Namjoon really needed to work on his social skills.
“I thought he was just a stalker in love with you!” the man Jimin called Jin screeched.
Jimin rolled his eyes. “And what was your plan exactly?”
“I was going to tell him you were unavailable so he’d leave you alone,” Jin mumbled with a pronounced pout on his plump lips. Namjoon stopped himself before he could think the expression was cute.
“And you needed to take your disguise off for that?” Jimin pressed with an annoyed huff. Jin wouldn’t look at the pink-haired man.
“I figured seeing another incredibly desirable face would soften the blow a bit…”
Jimin just stared.
“...you’re an idiot.”
Namjoon figured it was about time he stepped in, before he was sucked any further into this bizarre pace. “As I said before,” he said in what he hoped was a clear and authoritative voice. “I am a police officer, and I’m going to need everyone to stop talking and get their hands in the air. You’re all under arrest, understand?”
Neither of the bickering men before him seemed very intimidated. Jin regarded Namjoon with a confident smile that did things to the taller man’s insides. “Correct me if I’m wrong, officer,” he began slowly, approaching with deliberate steps. “But you’re not armed, are you? Because if you were, you would’ve already drawn your gun.”
He had him there. Namjoon continued to stand there, contemplating his next move, as Jin closed the distance between the two of them. The thief practically oozed confidence as he stopped right in front of the taller man.
“See?” he said, gesturing at himself. “I’m not full of holes. No weapon, then. And by the looks of your clothes, you’ve been staking this place out for days. You probably left everything but that badge in that beat up old car outside. You’re not a threat to me, officer .”
It was Namjoon’s turn to smirk. He was obviously being underestimated. That was nothing new; he’s been underestimated his entire career. While Hoseok shined like a bright star in the police force, most people had constantly questioned whether or not someone like Namjoon had what it took to keep up. Hoseok was usually the one speaking for the two at work or on camera, the one in the spotlight. So naturally everyone assumed that he did most of the work on cases. But little did everyone know, that was exactly what the two were aiming for. Because Namjoon’s tactics worked best when he was being counted out.
In an instant, Namjoon’s hand shot out to grab Jin’s wrist and the officer retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. He snapped one cuff around the thief’s wrist and before Jin could pull away, sealed the other cuff around his own wrist, binding them together. Jin’s eyes widened in shock.
“‘Not a threat’?” Namjoon repeated, holding their cuffed wrists in front of Jin’s face. “Care to say that again?”
“You..!” Jin tried to struggle, but it was no use. The handcuffs allowed barely any breathing room to maneuver.
“I didn’t leave everything behind,” Namjoon continued calmly. “And that beat up old car is Bae to you.”
“Shit, Jin!” Jimin exclaimed, but was interrupted by the kitchen door opening and Yoongi stepping out with a duffel bag.
“Here, you ungrateful son of bitch, an American-style breakfast to go,” he said before looking up and noticing the chaotic scene before him. Then his eyes widened.
“Yoongi, let me explain-” Jimin started, but the cook wasn’t looking at him. He dropped the duffel bag and yanked Jimin as hard as he could behind the counter.
“ Behind you! ”
That’s when Namjoon heard it. A sound he had become very acquainted with in his years on the force. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.
His body moved on its own, lunging towards Jin and pulling the blonde man into his embrace as their bodies hit the floor, hard. The windows of the diner practically exploded, pieces of glass showering them in a deadly rain. Cradling Jin’s head so he wouldn’t get scratched, Namjoon crawled under one of the booth tables. The shots continued, seemingly unrelenting. Namjoon counted ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen… were there two people firing at them then?
Jin fought against Namjoon’s hold, but there wasn’t anywhere for the blonde to go under the table, not to mention the fact that they were still handcuffed together. He had no choice but to settle for laying squarely on top of Namjoon’s frame, every inch of their bodies pressed together. Namjoon let out a low groan, trying to convince himself that it was the adrenaline making his heart beat this fast and nothing else.
Just then the shots ended and silence filled the diner. Namjoon listened fervently, but could hear nothing. He hoped that Jimin’s boyfriend had successfully pulled him to safety earlier. If the two had made it behind the counter then they had most likely escaped into the kitchen and left. Namjoon was pretty sure he had glimpsed another door in there during his stake out. It must lead outside. Maybe if they crawled, Namjoon and Jin could make it out too.
That plan quickly went up in smoke, however, as the sound of footsteps echoed in the quiet diner, stopping right outside the entrance.
“Anybody home?” a deep voice called in a singsong manner. “You’re not dead, are you, Gina?”
Namjoon listened in confusion. Who?
“Not Gina, Tae,” another voice corrected. “It’s Jin.”
“Oh, you’re right! My bad, Kookie,” the deep voice apologized with a hearty laugh. “The boss was so shocked when he found out who you really were, Jin. You should’ve seen his face. It was a riot!”
Namjoon looked at Jin. “Do you know these people?” he hissed in a whisper.
“They found me faster than I expected,” Jin grumbled to himself instead of responding. “I swear they followed the fake trail I left…”
“Well obviously not,” Namjoon said matter-of-factly.
Jin gave him a withering look. “If you’re not going to be helpful then kindly shut it, officer ,” he said.
“I have a name, you know,” Namjoon retorted then bit his lip. He couldn’t believe that was what was bothering him at a time like this!
“Which I’d love to learn, some other time over food and drinks,” Jin replied casually, craning his neck to look around them. “But for now I’d like to focus on finding a way out of this alive if you don’t mind?”
Namjoon grumbled, but there wasn’t much he could say back to that. “There’s an exit in the kitchen,” he informed the blonde. “We just need to get there.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Namjoon wished he knew the answer to that question himself.