10. Jack

CHAPTER 10

JACK

I never thought I'd ever be witness to real-life sidekick auditions, but if they'd told me it would be that much fun, I would have signed up years ago.

The plethora of people who turned up to be a supervillain's assistant is staggering, and I'd be concerned if Seojun were a supervillain.

I wonder if SPAM knows about them all. About their powers, their intentions, their adeptness. I wonder if they know about him. Although, surely, he would have shown up when I looked into his mother and brother. Unless there's another database I don't have access to.

Oh well, as soon as all this is over, I'll hand over any and all info I've gathered, and SPAM can act on them as they see fit.

"Great work today. Very productive. We need a plan of action because Paper Trail can only start tomorrow. His sciatica is flaring, and he needs to rest his leg. Can you believe The Phantom let him go because he had to take some rest days? What a brute. But he's mine now thanks to Phantom's dickness, so…" Seojun claps his hands as if he's gotten the biggest gift in the world.

I don't think I've seen him smile as much as he is right now. It's quite a nice look on him. If only he wasn't this thrilled about breaking the law with wild abandon. But I guess one step at a time.

"Yeah. It was great. We should do it again sometime." I turn my phone away from him and glance at my notes from this morning.

I lock it away before Seojun can see all the names and details I've put down for when all this is over and I can finally report on these events.

"Oh, we will. When it's time for henchmen. But for now, Paper Trail should be enough."

"You aspire to henchmen?" I smirk.

What I wouldn't give to see him boss grown-ass men around.

"Yes, of course. I am building a criminal empire, after all. And a criminal empire requires henchmen. Lots of them."

He's so serious when he talks about crime, but so far, his worse infractions are breaking into SPAM offices and skimming on cab rides, which, if he's to be believed, he makes up for through donations.

Whether he does or not, he still doesn't strike me as a crime lord, and I've yet to see what other criminally terrible things he's done or is planning to do.

"Now what?" I ask him.

He's such an interesting creature. I can't help but want to know more about him. If only to help me build a case against him when I'm out of his thrall. Although he'd look so bad in prison stripes.

"Now…" He grabs my arm and lifts my sleeve. His signature is still there, over my inked skin, as bright as it's ever been. And I did try to remove it this morning in the shower while Seojun pretended to stare at the wall because apparently luxury apartments don't believe in shower curtains. "We go back to SPAM and some more snooping."

"Oh, come on. No. We can't?—"

"We can and we—" He starts when my phone rings.

We both stop and stare at each other. I retrieve my phone from my pocket but don't answer it. It's Bob. Why does it feel like I've been caught with my pants around my ankles?

"Are you gonna get that or what?"

I nod and slide my thumb across the screen.

"Morning, sunshine. They've struck again. I'm sending you the address," he snaps before I've even said anything.

"I need to go," I tell Seojun.

"What? Go where?"

"Crime scene."

His eyes go slightly wider at my words, but he tries to hide it by moving his head as if he's dismissing me.

"We don't have time for that."

"We don't have an option, I'm afraid. It's my job. If I don't show up, Bob will get suspicious, and that will only raise alarm bells?—"

"Just tell him you're busy with the engagement party."

"I can't do that. Work is work," I insist. And besides, maybe I'll find a way to warn someone about my predicament.

"Fine," he says, taking us back out on the street and hailing a cab.

The driver drops us off at an old, bricked-up bodega with yellow tape and police cars across the sidewalk, and I have to flash my CREEP badge to get through.

We find Bob leaning next to the door, holding his stomach as if he's just been sick, though there's no puke on the ground.

"Seojun!" he says as soon as he sees us. "You brought your fiancé to a crime scene, Happy? What is wrong with you?"

Seojun wastes no opportunity to drape himself over me and wrap both hands around my arm.

"I've wanted to see a crime scene for, like, ever!" He's so convincingly giddy about it that I wonder if it's actually true.

Bob puts his hands up and gags.

"Be my guest. But there's a decapitated woman in there. I'm warning you."

Seojun gasps.

"Actually, darling, you go right ahead. I'll stay right here keeping Bob company." Seojun lets go of me and stands next to my partner.

They look like quite the pair. Seojun is young and extravagant. Bob is grumpy and mundane. I wonder if that's what I look like next to him. Mundane. But then again, wouldn't anyone standing next to this spitfire of a man? Even if he wasn't wearing his huge pink fur coat?

"But honey!" I grind between my teeth. "You were so excited to be with me for this."

He considers my words for a moment, then drags his feet back to my side with a scowl.

"Let's do this, I guess," he mutters.

I chuckle and slap his shoulder, pushing him inside the bodega. I immediately regret it.

There isn't a surface that isn't covered in blood. Splattered like someone grabbed a paint bucket and started throwing it around like it's glitter.

"Oh my God." He gags and grabs his mouth.

"Maybe…" I start, but maybe what? Maybe wait outside? He can't. And I can't not be here. I've got a job to do. "Maybe just stay close and keep your eyes shut."

I offer him my arm, and he grabs it so fast that, for a minute, I think I've pulled a muscle.

We wade through the shelving units that make up the empty aisles of this abandoned bodega, and I go right to the epicenter in the back, where a headless woman lies on the floor, all limbs spread apart. Her chest and stomach are split open, the skin all over her body torn as if from the inside.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God," Seojun cries. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Come here." I step between him and the body and wrap him in my arms, blocking his view of the body.

To my surprise, he hugs me back, his head glued to my chest, and for a moment, I can't move. I can't even breathe. I can only stand there and feel the full effect of our physical contact shooting through my body, through every nook and cranny. Through that part of me.

I've never felt any attraction or reaction to another man, but the sensation coursing through me is all too familiar and sweet.

"Are you guys okay?" a member of the forensics team asks, and it gives me all the urge and motivation to move.

"Let's get out of here," I whisper against the top of his head, practically kissing it, and drag him back out, making sure to shield his eyes and innocence.

"What happened?" Bob asks when we storm out. Seojun finds the nearest trash can and heaves over it for a moment, but nothing comes out.

He's faring better than Bob does on the regular, but still…

"Ah. Gotcha," Bob answers his own question. "I warned ya."

Yeah. He did warn us. But it wasn't like I had an option. I still don't. Unless…

I take my phone out. I can unlock it and show Bob all my notes. I can type everything that's happened and pass it on to him while Seojun is distracted and hope he can help me get out of this mess, but…

But I can't. Whether it's part of the enchantment or just my conscience, I can't do that to Seojun.

He may fancy himself a supervillain, but he's anything but. Supervillains do horrible things like what we've just seen inside the bodega. That's a supervillain. What Seojun is doing is child's play in comparison. It's pretend.

"Still think we'll get that motherfucker?" Bob asks, staring at Seojun.

I take a deep breath, look around us, put my hands on my hips, and smile.

"Sure we are." If only so I can prove to Seojun he's no supervillain.

"That was horrible," he says when we're back in a cab on the way to his apartment.

"I'm sorry."

He hugs himself in lieu of a comment and leans his head against the window, looking out at the blurred streets and clueless people. This whole picture is wrong. He should be snarky and cocky. He should be lying out of his behind and trying to get a rise out of me. But he isn't doing any of those things. And I'm responsible for it.

"I should have called in sick. I should have known better."

He studies me for a few quiet moments.

"Is…is this what you do?" he whispers. "Is this your job?"

I nod.

"We visit crime scenes, study forensics, and try to find the culprits before they hurt anyone else."

Seojun closes his eyes and turns his head back toward the window. He doesn't say anything. In fact, he doesn't say anything for the rest of the ride or when we're back at his home. Not even when I order us lunch and put a comedy on the TV, trying to distract him. I even have half a mind to suggest we snoop at the SPAM offices, but in the end, I just stay quiet and give him his space. As much as I can, considering our situation.

"You know…" I say when we're in bed later that day, lying in the dark. Seojun turns to look at me. "I wish you didn't have to see that."

"It's not your fault," he whispers. "I got us into this mess."

And while that is true, I'm also responsible for subjecting him to the horrors of my job.

"H…how do you do it?"

I turn on my side and support my head with my hand, staring into the darkness of his eyes.

"My power makes it easier."

"How?" He grimaces. "What's positive about a murder scene?"

I bite my lip and take a second to appreciate this moment. It's a peek behind the curtain, behind the frill and bang that Seojun presents to the world every waking moment. A peek behind the Sinister Seomyeong. A look at the real Seojun. A young, vulnerable guy trying to find his way in the world. Maybe in the wrong way but even so.

It should make him a fool, thinking he can navigate the world like this big, fearless persona to hide his wounds, but I don't know. It's a little endearing to know these things about him, especially since I don't think he realizes he's letting me in on all his secrets most of the time.

"There's nothing positive about murder," I tell him and put my hand on his that's wrapped around the pink cushion.

His gaze wanders down to my hand on his, and he purses his lips.

"So how does it help? Your power?"

"Because…every time I walk into a crime scene, I think thank God it's me and not someone else who has to look at them. Every time I look at the carnage left behind, I don't see the horror but the potential evidence we can find in it. Every time I look at the victims, I thank the heavens they've got me to fight for them."

Seojun glances up at me, and the edges of his mouth quirk to one side.

"That's…sweet."

I've never actually told anyone this. Well, the one person I did, looked at me funny and told me I was a weirdo right to my face, so since then, I've kept it to myself. I'm fully aware of how it comes across. Like I'm someone important. Like I'm better than everyone. Like I'm a little bit twisted.

"Really?" I ask him.

I'm sure he's just saying that, but it's nice not to be rejected for once. Not to be laughed at, mocked, or ditched because of a part of me I can't control. A part that should bring joy to people, yet it only brings division.

"Really." Seojun lifts his hand and threads his fingers through mine.

I stare at our linked digits, the fire that throbs underneath the skin, sending waves through the rest of me, and I swallow a knot in my throat.

"I know I make fun of you, but…the things you must see as a…as a…an agent. The resilience you must have to choose to go back…it's admirable."

"It's just my job," I whisper, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"That's not a job. All that blood. All that death." He shudders and opens his eyes again. "I'm scared to close my eyes because it's all there, imprinted, but keeping them open doesn't help either."

I feel a tear form in my eyes as I yank the cushion from between us and put my arms around him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I rock us back and forth as if that can help erase those images from his head, but it can't. Nothing but time can.

"Again…not your fault." He lifts his head and I loosen my embrace to look at him, yet all I find is darkness. The shadows my body covering him creates, blocking all the city lights from reaching him. It's just darkness, like the one I've caused him, and pink lips.

He parts them gently as if inviting me in, and I have no choice but to accept. I close the distance between our mouths and taste him with my tongue.

If touching him feels like magic, kissing him is like heaven. The best kind of sensations crawl through my body, demanding affection. Demanding tenderness. Demanding release.

I slip my tongue deeper. A phantom of a gasp escapes him and tightens every muscle in my body. He tastes like strawberry and desire, and something about that makes me breathless. It makes my entire body still in place.

"I'm sorry." He pulls away, rolling away from me and giving my body and soul a chance to recover from the intensity that is Seojun Bae.

"Wh-why?" I ask and reach for him before I change my mind and pull my hand back. And yet, despite the lack of contact, the fire resumes burning through me as if I can still taste him.

"Because…where do I start. Getting us into this situation. Lying to your friends. Taking advantage of you."

"You're not taking advantage of me." I grab him and roll him back around so he can look at me. "I kissed you, you know."

He grimaces.

"But why? You're straight."

I bite my lower lip and look up at the ceiling.

"I…I don't know." Other than wanting to make him feel better. To offer some solace from the horrors I subjected him to.

"Do you regret it?"

Do I?

I try to find something, anything, to regret about it. Anything that "should" put me off about kissing another guy. Feeling aroused by another man's presence. But I don't have any regrets. I only find joy. Joy in the ways he makes me feel and react. Joy in the way he makes me laugh.

"No. Nothing," I say.

"You sure? No ‘ragrets?'" He smirks.

"No ‘regerts,'" I reply.

Seojun puts his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me back into him with a lot more hardiness than I would have thought possible.

"Then take me, Jack. Take me now," he says and crashes his lips to mine.

But I don't mind. It's as if I can breathe again, and who can say no to breathing?