Chapter Text
Seongje wasn't particularly fond of bars and other locations where nightlife thrived. Sure, they were fun to visit occassionally for a quick drink and a hookup, but an ideal evening usually involved a pack of cigs, like four cans of energy drinks, and his PC. He closed his eyes and envisioned the comfort of his dingy apartment. The buzz of the fridge, the whirring of his ceiling fan, the murmur of the street creeping in through the window as he slumped over in the gaming chair that cost him a fortune.
Then with a tortured sigh he dragged himself into the nightclub he spent the last 5 minutes procrastinating in front of. Damn Baekjin. Making Seongje do his dirty work, collecting pesky debts and payments. And on a friday at that! He has been a loyal part of the union since his highschool days, and he still can't catch a fucking break.
The man frowned as the earbleeding bass of the music blasted him in the face after entering. Seongje nodded to the beefy bouncer and forced his body to merge with the flowing mass of people, searching for the bar counter, which he found after an excrutiatingly long 5 minutes of trying to navigate the confusing multi level interior and multiple stuffed dance floors.
The girl serving behind the counter froze up the second she saw Seongje, which fuelled his ego a bit. It felt nice to know that his reputation was as bad as ever.
"Where's the bastard?" Seongje grinned down at her. She obviously knew his reason for being here, and immediately gave clear directions on how to find Baekjin's target. Seongje hummed in gratitute and took off towards the second floor like a prowling wolf.
Didn't take too long to find the rat (his name is irrevelant, and Seongje can't for the life of him recall it) in a private booth, surrounded by his gang of thugs and a flock of women covered in more glitter than a kindergarden art project. The second the guy glimpsed Seongje striding towards them, his smirk faltered, and he almost fell over the table in his desperate scramble to intercept the arrival of his tormentor.
"I swear I will have the cash by next week, I promise, just trust me on this-" Before he could really get into his rant, Seongje looped an arm around his shoulder and started steering him back towards the cushioned couch. The gang of guys quickly made space for the pair, obviously recognizing Seongje for the threat that he was.
"Clock is ticking man, and you know that Baekjin isn't exactly known for his patience and tender heart."He sneered.
"But-"
"And neither am I. I have much better shit to do, so either you fork over what you owe or I will fuck you up so bad that the hospital nurses will go home crying."
The guy yelped as Seongje threw him back between the girls he was previously fawning over, and they scooted away in alarm. Seongje invaded his space and grabbed a handful of the rat's stringy hair, tilting his face up. Their eyes met, and Seongje suddenly remembered why he actually doesn't hate his job. It's hella fun. Even though most guys don't put up a fight, seeing somebody tremble and break out in goosebumbs at his mere presence always feels dangerously satisfying.
"Excuse me. Here are the drinks you ordered."
Everybody's head snaps towards the polite, if a bit monotone voice. The gang gapes. The girls exhange glances. The rat gulps. Seongje quirks an eyebrow in surprise.
The server standing across the other side of the table is a neat, tidy looking boy a bit on the shorter side, with a frail build and the expressionless face of a robot. But what capture Seongje's attention are his eyes. This boy probably has the calmest, most aloof gaze in the whole world, bordering on looking melancholic. The situation doesn't seem to phase him either. His eyes sweep over everybody present but they do not linger on anyone. Not even on Seongje, who is quite literally standing between another man's legs, fisting his hair, and very obviously threatening him.
Deeming it a job well done, the boy nods towards the stunned group, and shuffles away.
Seongje can't breathe.
What the hell was that.
The little guy was either the stupidest, most oblivious fellow alive or he was just concerningly nonchalant. He looked at Seongje like he was nothing. Not even worth a second glance. The mere fact that somebody could be so uncaring towards Seongje's presence, something which usually turned heads and ellicited cautious glances or hostile glares, sent a weirldy pleasant tingle down his spine.
"Who was that? When did he start working here?" Seongje asked, letting go of the bastard he was threatening with unimaginable violence a couple of seconds ago.
"Uuuh...maybe around two weeks ago? I am not too sure. I don't kow his name." The man stuttered, attempting to crawl away slowly as to not draw too much attention to himself again. Seongje hummed and absentmindedly pet his head like a dog's while nodding to himself thoughtfully. Two weeks ago. That checks out. He hasn't been to this club in a month. If he had been, he would have definitely remembered a gaze so unique. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop a giddy grin from forming. Those eyes were so uncaring and cold. Seongje could have been pulling the rat's teeth out one by one, making a necklace to wear out of them and the boy would have probably just blinked, and served them their drinks anyway.
Oh.
Right. The rat.
Seongje groaned in frustration. His mind was already over debt collecting, and was now running circles around the new and much more enticing subject of the aloof mystery boy. He wanted more of him. There was something else hidden in those eyes, something deeply buried and secretive, just waiting to be dug up and discovered, an activity Seongje was already buzzing to get to. Seongje had the uncanny ability to sniff out unusual people, since he was quite odd himself, and there was definitely something up with this boy.
"I'm gonna come by a few days later, you better cough up some cash by then. Today I am willing to let you go, since I'm in a good mood, but next time i will beat you to death if you disappoint." With those parting words Seongje threw himself back into the vibrant crowd without a backwards glance, in search of his brand new subject of interest.
...
The smoke curls up towards the sky playfully, leaving behind it's lingering bitter stench. Seongje lets the stick dangle from his fingers as he morosely stares into the moist darkness of the alley. The only light sources are the flickering flourescent rods attached to the side of the club's building, but they are sparse and kind of useless. Almost as useless as Seongje feels right now.
He couldn't find the boy. The fellow made a deep impression, then proceeeded to fall down a well or something. Seongje even went back to the girl who was working on the first floor to ask about the mysterious server, and went out of his way to explain the way his eyes were the most noticable parts of him, and surely she must know where he is right now and when his shift ends, but the girl just looked incredibly uncomfortable and alarmed, so Seongje left her alone and went for a smoke behind the building instead.
The cool air calms him down. He closes his eyes and leans back against the wall. It's just him and the noises of the night. Cars passing by on the main street, the moths flapping around the lights, and sizzling when they bump against the bare bulbs like tiny suicidal maniacs, the dripping of water from a pipe. Oh, and someone getting mugged right around the corner.
Yeah, that has been going on for a few minutes now.
Seongje lazily peers out from under his lashes. Maybe he should check it out. His mood has gone sour, but kicking around some losers would bring a bit of cheer back into his sad, pathetic life. What a way to cope.
He rounds the corner in one smooth turn and then proceeds to choke on his spit.
It's the little guy.
He is standing just a few meters away, posture straight, shoulders squared, arms in the pockets of his server uniform trousers. The embodiment of not caring, even though there are two men towering above him, cornering him against the dumpsters. The poor guy probably just wanted to take out the trash in peace but now he is getting mugged instead.
"I don't have anything on me." He states, and Seongje almost giggles. His voice doesn't even tremble. It's like he is conversing with his neighbors instead of two very clearly tipsy wannabe thugs who could probably flatten him like a pancake if they wanted to. Seongje should interfere, but he wants to watch first. He can be the hero of the day once he gets to see the boy's facade drop. He wonders how he looks scared. Probably cute.
"Nah man, you gotta be lying. With that face of yours, you probaly make a stupid amount of tips, you can spare us some." One of the guys staggers closer with a wide grin, hands reaching for the boy. The other one hangs about, just disassociating and occassionally regaining the spark of focus in his pupils, just to lose it again.
The man grabs his arms, and the boy takes a step back.
"Let me go." He grits out between his teeth.
Seongje is still lingering the shadow of the corner, but deems this the aprropriate time for his grand entrance.
He doesn't get to make one before the boy lunges swift as a viper, and stabs the man in the shoulder with the pen he has been gripping in his backpocket. The scream that fills the alley is guttural, and so painful that Seongje stops dead in his tracks. He gets to watch as the boy spins on his heels and lands a well placed kick on his aggressor's mouth, shattering his teeth, and splattering vivid red blood on the concrete, accompanied by a handful of pearly whites.
Seeing his buddy stagger around with a hand already painted crimson planted over his jaw, the previously daydreaming guy fully regains consciousness, and swings at the boy, who dodges under it, tackling his opponent. He doesn't have much in body weight, but he has momentum, and the man is clearly tipsy, so he goes down easily. The boy straddles him ( Seongje has never seen anything hotter ) and throws well aimed punches at his face, clearly in full knowledge of what he is doing. His fists land heavy, and the the person under him stops thrashing around and just takes the hits in a daze.
The first guy regains his footing and grips the boy's collar, throwing him against the nearest dumpster with a loud crash. He goes limp for a second, but gathers himself quite quickly, sliding into a sitting position.
Before the man can throw himself at the boy again, an overpowering kick sends him flying. He bounces off the wall like a pingpong ball, just to meet Seongje's fast flying punch. His neck makes a concerning crack as it snaps to the side, and he gets to have another date with the brick wall.
Both of the men are out cold.
Seongje shifts his attention back to the boy, and suddenly the tingling in his spine has returned tenfold.
That is what his previous aloof gaze concealing. The calculating and cold eyes of a predator, tracking his every move, plotting his next course of action, muscles taut like a bowstring but ready to snap at a moment's notice.
A twitch in the boy's hands draws Seongje's attention to his palms, and he almost lets out a cackle. He is holding an empty glass bottle, which he was probably planning to smash over the man's head, and is now debating smashing it over Seongje's instead. When and where the boy manifested his weapon from is a mystery, but he sure looked dangerous gripping it.
Seongje has a wolf's grin plastered on his face as he squats in front of the boy, whose serpentine gaze cautiously follows his every action. Upon closer inspection, he has soft features, and a youthful charm to his face, with bow shaped lips and a gently sloped nose. The aesthetic is kind of ruined by the blood smeared over his cheeks and the unconcealed hostility in his eyes. Like a feral animal backed into a corner.
"I'm Geum Seongje. What's your name?"
"....Yeon Sieun."
"Cool....Wanna go out with me?"
...
Seongje sauntered into his flat with a cheerful whistle and b-lined towards the fridge immediately, throwing it open with such vigor that the handle almost stayed in his grip. He hummed a tune as he pushed the various biohazard label worthy shit around, searching for anything edible. The harsh light bathed his satisfied face in a white glow, probably doing some extra damage to his retinas, but he just could not bring himself to care about it at the moment.
Finally he found a relatively undamaged box of leftover takeout, and sunk into the soft matress of his battle worn couch, wincing a bit when his leg bumped against the coffee table. Fuck, his shins hurt, thanks to Sieun.
Seongje fondly recalled the boy hurling the bottle at his head, and while Seongje was distracted with dodging the missile, the little bastard immediately went for the legs with such a ferocious kick that probably every one of his ancestors smiled down on him with pride. Sieun then proceeded to dip, and hop off the surface of the earth once again. Seriously, how does he keep doing that?!
After that no matter how much Seongje skulked around, Sieun was nowhere to be found. But that did not matter. The fact that Seongje's advances were rejected in the most over the top way possible after Sieun deemed him insane didn't matter either. Because he knew where Sieun worked, and yes, it might be morally dubious to stalk somebody at their job, but Seongje decided that he was going to do everything in his power to get to see more of that cold, desolate gaze.