Work Text:
Off the clock, Hwang In-ho was a man who stuck to his comfort zone.
He pushed himself practically every day as one of Seoul’s best detectives. Naturally, the job entailed putting himself in dangerous situations for the sake of justice. These dangerous situations had a wide range—from drawing his gun to pursuing criminals in high-speed car chases. He started out as a traffic cop in his early twenties, and next year he would turn fifty.
In-ho was considering early retirement. His job kept him sharp and in good shape physically, but all of it took a toll on his mind. Many people saw him as a cold man. However, this coldness wasn’t a trait he possessed since birth. It was something he acquired on the job. He’d lost some good partners over the years. Being a detective hardened him to the point where he avoided getting close to others.
However, none of the world’s cruelties could ever harden him to his baby brother: Jun-ho.
Jun-ho wasn’t so little anymore. In fact, he was thirty-three years old and, like In-ho did earlier in his career, was in the process of becoming a detective.
This was a recent development. While In-ho felt proud of him, he couldn’t help but worry about Jun-ho’s future. He knew his little brother was one of the most capable men on the force, though another part of him wished Jun-ho would have chosen a less dangerous profession.
Jun-ho currently had a few more weeks left working in Ssangmun-dong, which was a relatively quiet neighborhood where not much happened. His little brother intended to transfer to Seoul soon, though, to be where the action was.
Currently, In-ho was visiting Jun-ho at his two-bedroom condo in Ssangmun-dong. Jun-ho had picked him up from the train station early this morning.
While leaving his own home meant stepping outside his comfort zone to an extent, he was used to Jun-ho’s place. His little brother always made sure to clear a space for him in his closet. He also gave up his queen-sized bed for In-ho and took to bunking on a sleeping mat in the second bedroom, which Jun-ho mainly used as a computer/exercise room.
In-ho tried taking the sleeping mat for himself, but Jun-ho always answered with a loving quip, saying, “It’ll be murder on your ancient back, hyung.”
While In-ho was responsible using his vacation time, Jun-ho hadn’t saved enough to be off for In-ho’s entire visit. His little brother had to rush off to work shortly after picking In-ho up, but he promised he’d be home for dinner. In-ho had asked what he could prepare for them, but Jun-ho just laughed and said they’d order takeout tonight. He instructed In-ho to order from the nearby Chinese place, and he tacked the menu onto the fridge with a magnet.
When it was about thirty minutes before Jun-ho was supposed to get off the clock, In-ho took the menu off the fridge. He spent more time staring at the menu than was needed, even though he already knew what they wanted to order.
Truth be told, he hated using the phone to call for food. At work, he’d become accustomed to the secretary transferring calls to him in a routine way, but ordering food from a random carryout place was unpredictable. He had no idea who would answer the phone. Would they be able to hear him? Would he be able to hear them? The thoughts made his heartbeat spike, indicating In-ho wasn’t nearly as cold as people suspected, though the poker face he typically wore covered up this vulnerability well.
He unlocked his iPhone with a sweaty hand and called. He swallowed hard upon hearing the phone ring. Despite his age, he actually preferred ordering via the internet, whether it was on an app or a website on the computer. Jun-ho insisted this place was the best, though, and that they were old school.
“Panda Park. Can I take your order?”
In-ho let out an involuntary sigh of relief, grateful that the man on the phone spoke Korean clearly.
“Hello?”
In-ho’s face became hot. “Oh, yes. I would like to place an order for delivery.”
“I figured,” the man said with a smile in his voice. “People don’t usually call just to see how I’m doing.”
“Th-That’s amusing,” In-ho stammered. Ironically, he didn’t laugh.
“I like to think I’m funny,” the man said, chuckling warmly. “Maybe I should’ve been a comedian. Anyway, what’s your order?”
“Um… Just a moment,” In-ho said. Despite having the order memorized a short while ago, he felt the need to meticulously check for the appropriate names of the dishes on the menu. He also felt as if his nerves made him forget everything.
“Take your time,” the man said, sounding sincere.
“A large order of gun-mandu, a large order of jajangmyeon, a small order of kkanpunggi, a small order of kkansyo-saeu, and two orders of oksusu-onmyeon, please,” In-ho finally managed to say. He clutched the menu to the point of denting the paper.
“Okay, got it,” the man responded. “Your total’s gonna be—”
“I’m sorry, but… Could you please repeat the order?” In-ho asked, concerned about inaccuracies.
The man laughed again. “Large gun-mandu, large jajangmyeon, small kkanpungg, small kkansyo-saeu, and two orders of oksusu-onmyeon. Are you happy, sir?”
“Yes, very satisfied,” In-ho said shyly. “I’m sorry if that bothered you.”
“Ah, it’s all a part of the job,” the man said. From his warm tone, he still seemed to be smiling. “Your total’s ₩60,000. Can I get your address for delivery?”
As In-ho proceeded to do so, the man interrupted him.
“Oh, wait! You’re Jun-ho’s big brother,” he exclaimed. “Hell of a guy! Man, he’s been so excited! He was talking about your visit when he picked up some food last week.”
In-ho felt his face getting hot. He failed to understand why this man was making small talk now toward the end of the call. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “So… You know the address then?”
The man was quiet for a moment. In-ho worried he might have offended him, but then the man laughed again. “I got it memorized! Your little brother’s a regular. I’ll be there with your food in around thirty minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you,” In-ho said before hanging up in a hurry.
His heart was still racing, and his face was still flushed. Even without looking, he knew the flush traveled down his neck and to his chest. It happened whenever he was nervous, though the high collar of his shirt concealed most of the area.
He took a deep breath, finally feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He had successfully completed his mission of placing the order for the Chinese food.
In addition to dreading ordering food over the phone, he also hated answering the door for the delivery person. While he always took note of the estimated time of arrival, the uncertainty of it all wigged him out. Would they be a few minutes early? A few minutes late? And, god forbid, what if they came at an inopportune time, like when he was in the restroom? Much to his chagrin, this exact scenario had happened to him before in the past.
That was why he often tasked Jun-ho with ordering the food and answering the door as soon as he was old enough. In-ho told him it was good practice, both for phone etiquette and manners. Jun-ho, always being a friendly boy, mostly never had an issue with it. There were a few times in his rebellious teenage years where he had the gall to challenge him, saying things like, “What the hell’s wrong with you, hyung? I just got back from cram school. You order!”
“I am treating, you little monster, so you do as I ask,” In-ho had answered back then. He didn’t see the need to go into detail about this fear, for he knew it was entirely irrational and would just give Jun-ho something new to tease him about.
Fortunately, this phase didn’t last, and Jun-ho went back to ordering without qualms as he grew into adulthood.
In the present, In-ho unlocked his phone again and proceeded to text Jun-ho.
While his texts didn’t express as much, this news made In-ho’s stomach do a nervous flip. All things considered, his brother and the delivery man would likely arrive at the same time, and that was the best case scenario. Jun-ho only lived about ten minutes away from the police station, but he could imagine him getting distracted and talking with other co-workers. The young man also didn’t have the best sense of direction, even though In-ho knew how unlikely it was for him to get lost on a well-established route.
Fists clenched at his side, In-ho exited the kitchen and walked into Jun-ho’s bedroom. He picked up the pillow, detecting the scent of detergent, though he ignored this. He held the pillow to his own face and proceeded to scream into it, attempting to expel the nervous energy.
He set the pillow down a few seconds later and searched for a distraction, though a tightness lingered in his chest. He found his English version of The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. He decided he would read. The fact that the book was in another language made it extra challenging. Ideally, this would make him more absorbed in understanding the story rather than worrying about the timing of Jun-ho and the delivery man.
Taking the paperback with him, In-ho took a seat on the couch. He opened the book to page one. He successfully read the short dedication: TO MY MOTHER. However, afterward he began to struggle with the first paragraph of Holden Caulfield’s story.
The struggle had nothing to do with his knowledge of the English language. Due to his studying, intelligence, and occupation, he’d become fluent in it as a second language. However, the anxiety was taking hold of him again. He found himself reading the first lengthy sentence over and over without comprehending much of anything. He even started mouthing the words in an effort to ground himself, but this technique only got him to the second sentence while the minutes ticked by.
Nervously, he checked his phone. No Jun-ho. Then he checked his watch, comparing it to the time on his phone. He was in perfect synchronization with the device, though this provided no comfort. It only confirmed that the delivery man was likely going to beat Jun-ho, and he would have to contend with another incident that made him ridiculously nervous.
The doorbell rang, and In-ho nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes grew wide, and he accidentally dropped the book on the hardwood floor. In that moment, he wished Jun-ho hadn’t rented this place and that he had an apartment instead. If that were the case, there would be a buzzer system, a locked front door, and more barriers between him and this delivery man.
The doorbell rang again. In-ho forced himself off the couch. “I’m COMING!” he yelled louder than he intended, which only embarrassed him. All he could do was throw himself into the situation. It made him think of jumping in a pool to get used to the cold water all at once, rather than walking in gradually.
Steeling himself, he made a beeline for the door. He unlocked and opened it with sweaty hands.
Upon opening it, he was greeted with the delivery man holding two plastic bags containing their food. He had long, black messy hair with streaks of gray tucked under a baseball cap. The stubble on his face indicated that he hadn’t shaved in several days. He also had a lanky build and several inches on In-ho. He had to crane his neck slightly to see into his warm brown eyes.
“That’s what she said!” the delivery man joked with a smile that In-ho swore could be worth 45.6 billion won.
“Wh-What?” In-ho asked, perplexed.
“You said you were coming, so I—” The man stopped short as he took In-ho in. “Whoa, buddy, are you okay?” He furrowed his brow in concern. “You’re breathing kinda fast, and your neck’s all blotchy.”
In-ho cursed the fact that his nerves were on full display in front of a total stranger. The world around him swayed, and his heart kept racing. He was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack. “I’m fine,” he lied. “Just… Worried about Jun-ho.”
The delivery man glanced at his watch and then looked around. “I’m sure he’ll be along any minute. He’s usually off around this time, right?”
“Mhm,” In-ho answered with a curt nod. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath through his nose, holding it for a few seconds, and exhaling through his mouth.
“Better?” the delivery man asked.
Before In-ho could answer, a new surge of panic hit him as he remembered the obvious. “Ai-ssi!”
“What?” the delivery man asked, concern etched all over his features.
“Your money! My wallet!” In-ho felt frustrated by his incompetence. How could someone so smart be so stupid? His hands twitched. He fought the urge to smack himself in the face. “I forgot! It’s on the kitchen counter! It’s—”
“That’s fine,” the delivery man said in an attempt to reassure him. “Let’s just go inside and get it. Maybe get you a glass of water, too.”
In-ho nodded and stepped aside. Letting a stranger inside the house went against policeman 101, but he felt too humiliated not to follow the delivery man’s suggestion at this point. The man’s kind demeanor suggested he wasn’t some petty criminal.
Together, the two middle-aged men made their way to Jun-ho’s kitchen. In-ho retrieved his wallet while the delivery man set the bags of food down on the counter. Then he started searching through the cupboards for a glass. It struck In-ho as a bit rude but well meaning.
After a few moments, the man grabbed a glass from one of the high shelves and poured In-ho a cool glass straight from the tap. He offered it to In-ho, who was reluctant to take it.
The delivery man raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“It’s just—” In-ho began, feeling ridiculous. “I only drink the Evian in the fridge. And with crushed ice.” He looked down at his feet.
The delivery man let out another warm chuckle. “Fancy. Lemme just get rid of this commoner’s swill then.” He dumped the water down the drain and stepped over to the fridge. He hit a button to change the ice setting to crushed, filled the glass one-fourth of the way, and found the special bottle of Evian in the fridge. He opened and poured it for In-ho. “Here.”
“Thank you,” In-ho murmured. He set his wallet aside and took the cold glass with both hands, sipping it. The difference in temperature helped ground him in a way the book hadn’t. This was something he could feel—a simple distraction.
“Better?” the delivery man asked, smiling.
In-ho nodded. He took one more sip before setting it down. He grabbed his wallet again and handed two ₩50,000 bills to the delivery man. “Keep the change.”
The delivery man’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? That’s crazy! I can make change.”
In-ho shook his head. “No. Keep it. You deserve it. I’ve inconvenienced you enough tonight.”
“Are you sure?” the delivery man asked, still holding the bills in his hand.
In-ho nodded again. “Please. Spend it on yourself.”
The delivery man pocketed them after a moment’s hesitation. “Huh. Guess it’s been a while since I’ve been to the track.”
“The horse racetrack?” In-ho asked.
The delivery man nodded this time. “You never know when you’re gonna win big!” he exclaimed with childlike enthusiasm.
“Word of advice: The house always wins,” In-ho said. He didn’t mean to rain on the man’s parade, but he thought gambling was a foolish way to spend money.
The delivery man laughed. “You sound like an old man.”
In-ho looked away. He remembered his father saying those same exact words, but he decided not to go into detail. The man wasn’t around long enough to make a true impact, even though traces of him stuck around, like cigarette smoke in an otherwise nice house. If anything, his father’s absence made more of an impact than his presence.
“Well, I’ll see myself out,” the delivery man said, interrupting his thoughts. “You enjoy dinner! Tell Jun-ho I said hello.”
“Oh,” In-ho murmured. “Let me walk you out.”
“If you insist,” the delivery man said in his breezy way, indicating he was fine with walking out alone or being led out.
Together, they walked back to the door. In-ho opened it again. “Thank you for the water and your patience.”
“Anytime,” the delivery man said with a grin. He walked outside.
In-ho leaned slightly to peer over the man’s shoulder. “Is that your ride?” he asked, noticing the Daelim scooter parked in the street.
“Uh huh,” the man answered. “My friend and his wife own it, though. Man, she always lectures me and tells me not to crash.” He rolled his eyes.
Just then, Jun-ho came walking up the street. He smiled broadly at both men. “Well, I see you two have already gotten acquainted.”
In-ho frowned. “You’re late.”
The delivery man chuckled. “Hey, cut your baby brother some slack.”
“You should really listen to Gi-hun, hyung,” Jun-ho said, looking amused despite In-ho’s frown.
“Gi-hun?” In-ho asked.
The delivery man, now known as Gi-hun, laughed again. “Oh, yeah! Guess we never did introduce ourselves. I’m Seong Gi-hun.” He gave In-ho a little bow of his head.
In-ho returned the small bow. “Hwang In-ho.” Then he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own. “Seong literally means last name.”
Jun-ho and Gi-hun exchanged looks, but neither of them laughed.
“You’ll have to forgive him,” Jun-ho said. “When hyung tells jokes, he does dad jokes.”
Gi-hun chuckled then. “I already said he sounded like an old man a little while ago.”
While In-ho questioned their sense of humor, he was still smiling. The anxiety stayed at bay for now. “Jun-ho, let’s eat. I’m sure Gi-hun has work to do.”
“Alright,” Jun-ho said with a nod. He turned to Gi-hun. “Have a good night, Gi-hun.”
“You too,” Gi-hun said sincerely. He regarded both brothers before clapping In-ho on the shoulder. “Glad you’re feeling better.”
In-ho blushed at the physical affection. Normally, he only received that kind of attention from Jun-ho. Somehow, this felt a little different, like he could somehow see Gi-hun as someone beyond a friend or a brother under the right circumstances. In many ways, the man’s outgoing personality reminded him of his late wife.
The Hwang brothers watched as Gi-hun sped off into the night, surely exceeding the speed limit by 10 miles.
“Doesn’t he know we’re cops?” In-ho scoffed.
Jun-ho chuckled, shrugging. “Maybe that’s why he thinks he can get away with it.”
“He’s not even wearing a helmet.”
“It’s a scooter, hyung. Not a motorcycle,” Jun-ho said. “Lighten up.”
Without further ado, the Hwang brothers went inside Jun-ho’s condo to feast on their Chinese food. As they settled in and enjoyed each other’s company, In-ho felt himself getting comfortable again. However, even when considering the harrowing endeavors he endured tonight, he still felt grateful that he opened the door. If he hadn’t, he would have never met Seong Gi-hun.
And who knew what other doors would open?