The dimly lit bar hummed with laughter and quiet conversations, the warm golden glow reflecting off half-filled glasses. Hwang In-ho sat comfortably beside Seong Gi-hun, his hand resting lightly on his lover’s knee under the table. Though their relationship was long-established, In-ho still found himself captivated by Gi-hun’s easy smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed.
“You two are disgusting,” Jeong-bae teased, raising his glass in their direction. “At least pretend to have some shame in public.”
“Oh, shut up,” Gi-hun shot back, taking a sip of his beer. “You’re just mad because you don’t have someone looking at you the way I do at In-ho.”
Across the table, Kang Sae-byeok rolled her eyes, her arm slung casually around Ji-yeong’s shoulders. Ji-yeong grinned as she nestled closer. “We’re the real power couple here, let’s be honest.”
“Sure, sure,” Jeong-bae chuckled. “I’m just here to third-wheel, apparently.”
“Actually,” In-ho interrupted smoothly, “You might not be alone tonight. Jun-ho’s on his way.”
His younger brother had only hesitated for a second when In-ho invited him, but curiosity seemed to have won out in the end.
As if on cue, the bar’s entrance swung open, and Jun-ho walked in, scanning the crowd before spotting their table. His sharp detective’s gaze briefly softened as he met In-ho’s eyes. Despite everything—the cases, the tension, the years they had spent apart—there was always a quiet understanding between them.
But someone else was watching him.
Dae-ho nudged his sister, Jun-hee, as his eyes followed Jun-ho’s approach. “Hey, who’s that?”
“In-ho’s younger brother,” Jun-hee supplied easily. “Why?”
“No reason,” Dae-ho said, rolling his beer bottle between his fingers, his attention still locked on Jun-ho. Something about the man’s posture, the way he carried himself, piqued his interest.
Jun-ho slid into an empty chair, offering the group a polite nod before focusing on In-ho. “Didn’t think I’d actually show up, did you?”
“Not really,” In-ho admitted, but his smirk held something warmer than just amusement. “Glad you’re here.”
As drinks flowed, the group fell into lively conversation, the occasional flirtatious remark exchanged between couples. Meanwhile, Jun-ho found himself listening intently as Dae-ho spoke about his time in the Marines.
“So, what made you want to join?” Jun-ho asked, swirling his whiskey.
Dae-ho shrugged, tipping his chair back slightly. “I wanted discipline, structure—maybe a little adventure. You?” He arched a brow. “Undercover work, that’s no joke.”
Jun-ho exhaled, his fingers tracing patterns on the rim of his glass. “Same reasons, I guess. But mostly, I wanted to make a difference.”
Dae-ho nodded slowly, holding Jun-ho’s gaze. “And? Did you?”
There was something in the way he asked, something that cut through Jun-ho’s usual guarded demeanor. For the first time that night, Jun-ho let out a genuine chuckle. “Ask me again after a few more drinks.”
Nearby, In-ho had taken notice of the exchange, his detective instincts ever sharp. Gi-hun nudged him playfully. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Oh, I see it,” In-ho murmured, eyes twinkling. “And I approve.”
The night wore on, and the once-lively conversations gave way to quieter, more personal moments. As Gi-hun rested his head against In-ho’s shoulder, Ji-yeong whispered something to Sae-byeok that made the latter flush slightly. Jeong-bae debated calling it a night, only to be dragged back into a discussion about conspiracy theories by Jun-hee.
And Dae-ho? Well, he had somehow ended up outside with Jun-ho, both leaning against the cool brick of the bar’s exterior. The street was quiet, save for the occasional passing car, and the fresh air was a relief after the warmth of the bar.
“So,” Dae-ho broke the silence, glancing at Jun-ho. “We never did get to the real questions.”
Jun-ho smirked. “Like what?”
“Like how good are you at reading people?” Dae-ho tilted his head, an almost mischievous glint in his eyes. “Detectives are supposed to be good at that, right?”
Jun-ho huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I’d say I’m decent.”
“Okay,” Dae-ho said, crossing his arms. “Read me, then.”
Jun-ho took a moment, studying him. The confidence, the easy-going nature, the slight tension in his jaw that suggested he didn’t let people in easily.
“You put up a front like nothing phases you,” Jun-ho said, voice steady. “Like the world doesn’t shake you. But I’d bet money there’s more to you than what you let people see.”
Dae-ho raised a brow, clearly impressed. “Not bad.”
“Your turn,” Jun-ho prompted. “Read me.”
Dae-ho exhaled, his gaze lingering on Jun-ho longer than necessary. “You act like you’re always in control, always thinking five steps ahead. But something tells me there’s a part of you that misses just going with the flow.” He smirked. “How’d I do?”
Jun-ho laughed softly, shaking his head. “Maybe you should’ve been a detective.”
“Nah,” Dae-ho murmured, his voice dropping just enough for it to feel more intimate. “I think I like what I do now.”
Jun-ho wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the quiet of the night, or just the sheer gravity of Dae-ho’s presence, but for the first time in a long while, he let himself entertain the idea of something new.
And, from the way Dae-ho was looking at him, he had a feeling he wasn’t the only one.
---
As the night stretched on and their friends grew more distracted with their own conversations, In-ho and Gi-hun found themselves slipping away to a quieter corner of the bar.
Gi-hun sighed contentedly as he leaned back against the worn leather booth, swirling the last bit of whiskey in his glass. Across from him, In-ho studied him with that same unreadable expression that had first intrigued him all those years ago.
“You keep staring at me like that, and I might start thinking you’re in love with me,” Gi-hun teased, his voice lower now, more private.
In-ho smirked, taking a slow sip from his own drink before setting it down. “Would that be a problem?”
Gi-hun pretended to think about it, tapping his chin. “Mmm… no. I think I’m okay with that.”
In-ho leaned in just slightly, the distance between them shrinking. “Good,” he murmured. His eyes flickered to Gi-hun’s lips before he let out a quiet chuckle. “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
“Back when we first got together, I never pictured us like this,” In-ho admitted. “Just sitting in a bar, drinking with friends, sharing a quiet moment.”
Gi-hun smiled, his hand absentmindedly reaching out to trace circles against In-ho’s wrist. “Yeah? And what did you picture?”
In-ho considered it. “Something... messier. Like an argument before the end of a case, stolen kisses in dark corners.” He shook his head, his lips curling slightly. “But this—this is better.”
Gi-hun let out a soft chuckle. “Told you. You just needed to loosen up a little.”
In-ho rolled his eyes, but the warmth never left his face. He opened his mouth to respond—but before he could, a loud, unmistakable voice cut through the quiet between them.
“Ugh! Look at these two! All broody and romantic in a damn bar.”
Gi-hun groaned dramatically as he turned to find Ji-yeong standing there with her hands on her hips, a teasing grin on her lips. Beside her, Sae-byeok stood with her arms crossed, shaking her head with mock disappointment.
“And here we thought we’d have the sweetest romance of the night,” Ji-yeong continued, nudging Sae-byeok’s side. “But nooo, you two are out here setting the bar way too high.”
Sae-byeok sighed, deadpan. “I told you we should’ve started slow dancing in the middle of the bar.”
Gi-hun threw his head back and laughed. “By all means, I’d love to see that.”
“No, no, no,” Ji-yeong said quickly, waving her hands. “This isn’t about us. This is about you two and how absolutely disgusting it is that you’re still this in love after, what? Years?”
In-ho smirked. “If it bothers you, you can always look away.”
“Oh, believe me, I’d love to,” Ji-yeong said, crossing her arms. “But you two just radiate the energy of a couple that thinks they’re being all subtle and mysterious, when really, the entire bar can tell you’re in your own world.”
Gi-hun grinned, throwing an arm over In-ho’s shoulder and pulling him in slightly. “Well, that’s just jealousy talking.”
Sae-byeok gave him a flat look. “You do realize we’re the ones who came to bother you, right?”
“I dunno,” Ji-yeong mused. “Feels like fate brought us here.”
Gi-hun turned to In-ho, dropping his voice to a mock whisper. “They’re drunk.”
In-ho simply shook his head, chuckling. “Let them be.”
“Oh, we will be,” Ji-yeong declared dramatically. “But you two better get back to the group before Jeong-bae starts making up wild stories about what you’re doing in this corner.”
Gi-hun rolled his eyes but got up anyway, offering In-ho his hand. “Well, detective?” he teased. “Shall we return before we become the talk of the night?”
In-ho huffed, shaking his head, but took Gi-hun’s hand anyway, lacing their fingers together. As they followed Ji-yeong and Sae-byeok back to the others, he couldn’t help but think—
Maybe, just maybe, this was exactly the kind of night he’d always needed.
---
The group was louder now, the initial politeness of the night worn down by rounds of drinks and easy conversation. Gi-hun and In-ho returned to their seats just as Jeong-bae was dramatically reenacting some convoluted story—most likely exaggerated—much to the amusement of Jun-hee and the mild irritation of Sae-byeok.
“I’m telling you,” Jeong-bae declared, gesturing wildly with his nearly empty beer bottle, “there is no way that lady at the convenience store wasn’t a former spy. The way she counted my change? Too fast.”
Jun-hee smirked. “Yeah? And the part where she asked you how your mom was doing? Also spy behavior?”
“She’s been tracking me for years,” Jeong-bae insisted.
Sae-byeok, still leaning lazily against Ji-yeong, shook her head. “Or maybe she’s just someone who remembers the idiots that come into her store at 2 AM demanding she unlock the freezer section so they can get ice cream.”
Gi-hun snorted. “That happened again?”
“You don’t understand cravings,” Jeong-bae muttered.
The group erupted into laughter, but their attention shifted as Jun-ho and Dae-ho finally made their way back inside, both looking considerably more comfortable than when the night started. There was an ease in the way they carried themselves now, a familiarity that hadn’t been there before.
Gi-hun, ever the observant one (at least when he wasn’t being a disaster himself), nudged In-ho discreetly. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
In-ho smirked, barely glancing at his younger brother before taking a sip of his whiskey. “They look very engaged.”
Jun-ho and Dae-ho slid back into their seats, but before anyone could say anything, Ji-yeong was already leaning in with a knowing grin. “You two have been gone a suspiciously long time.”
Dae-ho shrugged, a little too casually. “Just getting some air.”
Sae-byeok tilted her head. “Must be some great air.”
Jun-ho, despite being a detective trained to handle high-stress situations, visibly rolled his eyes. “You all sound like teenagers.”
Ji-yeong smirked. “And yet, you are the one acting all defensive.”
Jun-ho exhaled, clearly realizing there was no winning this battle. Instead, he turned toward Dae-ho and changed the subject. “You said you did recon missions in the Marines, right?”
Dae-ho, who had been watching this exchange with barely-contained amusement, nodded. “Yeah. Tracking, survival drills, counter-intel work—lots of discipline, lots of patience. Why?”
Jun-ho tapped his fingers against the rim of his glass. “It’s just—undercover work isn’t that different. You have to blend in, play a role for long periods, keep your instincts sharp but never let them show. I wonder if that’s why you keep asking me about it.”
Dae-ho arched a brow. “And what do your detective instincts say?”
Jun-ho tilted his head, as if weighing his words. “That you miss the rush. Not necessarily the military, but having a purpose.”
Dae-ho stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. “Damn. You really are good at reading people.”
Ji-yeong, who had been listening with great interest, grinned. “Are you two about to fall in love? Because, honestly? I’d be here for it.”
“Ji-yeong,” Sae-byeok muttered.
“I’m just saying!”
Dae-ho smirked but turned his focus back to Jun-ho. “Maybe I do miss it sometimes. The structure, the adrenaline. You ever feel the same way?”
Jun-ho hesitated, something flickering in his expression. “More often than I’d like to admit.”
For a moment, there was a quiet understanding between them, but it was promptly shattered when Jeong-bae, clearly over the serious conversation, threw an arm around Jun-ho’s shoulders.
“You know what you both need?” Jeong-bae announced. “Drinks. More drinks.”
Jun-ho sighed but allowed himself to be handed another glass. Across the table, Gi-hun and In-ho shared a private smile. This night had turned into something unexpectedly warm, something that felt like home.
---
As the drinks kept flowing, the group settled into a more relaxed atmosphere, their initial teasing giving way to real conversation and, unfortunately for some, very embarrassing stories.
Jun-hee, who had been nursing her drink with a growing smirk, finally set it down with a dramatic sigh. “Alright,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “I think it’s time we discuss some vital information about my dear older brother.”
Dae-ho, halfway through his beer, shot her a suspicious look. “Jun-hee. Don’t.”
Ji-yeong immediately perked up. “Ohhh, this is gonna be good.”
Sae-byeok smirked. “Go on.”
Jun-hee grinned devilishly and turned toward Jun-ho. “Since you seem interested in my brother, I think it’s only fair I provide some important context.”
Jun-ho raised a brow, but there was the tiniest twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. “Alright. I’m listening.”
Dae-ho groaned, running a hand down his face. “I hate you.”
“Oh, you love me.” Jun-hee waved him off before turning back to the group. “Okay, so picture this—Dae-ho, sixteen years old, tall for his age, absolutely convinced that he was the coolest kid in the neighborhood.”
Jeong-bae leaned forward. “I already love this.”
“Right?” Jun-hee continued, grinning. “So, one summer, there was this big street festival in our area—tons of people, music, food stalls everywhere. And my dear brother, in all his infinite wisdom, decided that this was his moment to impress everyone.”
“Oh, god,” Dae-ho muttered. “No. Nope. Absolutely not—”
“Yes,” Jun-hee said gleefully. “This idiot tried to do a running jump onto one of those decorative platforms. Like, full action-hero style.”
Ji-yeong gasped. “No. Please tell me he face-planted.”
“Not only did he misjudge the jump,” Jun-hee said, barely holding back laughter, “but he hit his shin on the edge, flipped over the side, and landed directly into a tray of—get this—spicy rice cakes.”
The table erupted into laughter.
Gi-hun nearly choked on his drink. “Oh my god.”
“You should’ve seen the auntie who ran that food stall,” Jun-hee continued between cackles. “She was so horrified. Like, ‘you dumbass kid, you ruined perfectly good food!’ And then she hit him with a ladle.”
Ji-yeong was wheezing. “A ladle?”
“It hurt,” Dae-ho muttered. “Like, a lot.”
Sae-byeok smirked at him. “I think I like you more now.”
Dae-ho sighed dramatically and turned to Jun-ho. “This is what I get for having a sibling. Consider yourself warned.”
Jun-ho, however, was smirking. “Oh, I get it. Trust me.” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze sliding toward In-ho. “Because I had to grow up with this guy.”
In-ho, who had been enjoying his whiskey with mild amusement, barely lifted a brow. “Oh? You’re going to tell stories about me now?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jun-ho said, expression far too pleased. “After all, you did tell me bedtime stories when I was a kid. It’s only fair I share a few of my own.”
Gi-hun leaned in eagerly. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”
Jun-ho took a sip of his drink and set it down. “Let’s start with the fact that when I was six years old, In-ho convinced me he was secretly a ninja.”
Ji-yeong gasped. “Iconic.”
“I was cool,” In-ho said simply, swirling his drink.
“You were a menace,” Jun-ho corrected. “He used to disappear from the apartment and then suddenly reappear out of nowhere, just to prove that he could ‘move like a shadow.’”
Jeong-bae nodded in admiration. “Respect.”
“Not for me,” Jun-ho muttered. “Because he convinced me that if I trained really hard, I could be a ninja too.”
“Oh no,” Sae-byeok said, already bracing herself.
“Oh yes,” Jun-ho said. “He used to make me practice sneaking around—like, actual missions—except I was six and had the coordination of a potato.”
Gi-hun was laughing so hard that he nearly fell into In-ho’s side. “I cannot picture baby Jun-ho doing this.”
“Oh, it gets better,” Jun-ho said dryly. “One time, he told me my final ‘test’ was to steal cookies from the top shelf without getting caught. He hyped me up so much I was convinced it was a matter of life and death.”
“And what happened?” Ji-yeong asked eagerly.
Jun-ho shot In-ho a look. “What happened was that I tried to climb the counter, slipped, pulled the entire shelf down with me, and our mother nearly ended me.”
Jeong-bae howled.
“She grounded me for a week!” Jun-ho continued, exasperated. “And who do you think she didn’t blame?”
All eyes turned to In-ho, who merely shrugged. “I told her I was teaching you valuable life skills.”
Jun-ho let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Unbelievable.”
Gi-hun, wiping tears from his eyes, nudged In-ho. “I can’t believe you were that kind of older brother.”
“Oh, he still is,” Jun-ho muttered, finishing his drink.
In-ho smirked. “And yet, here you are, still surviving.”
Ji-yeong clapped her hands together. “Okay, official verdict—all of you were menaces growing up.”
Jun-hee pointed between herself and Jun-ho. “The younger siblings deserve a support group.”
“Agreed,” Jun-ho said solemnly.
Dae-ho nudged his sister with his beer bottle. “No support groups for traitors.”
The conversation continued into the night, more laughter, more absurd stories, the kind that came out only after a few drinks and in the presence of people who felt like home.
At some point, In-ho felt Gi-hun lean against him, his head resting lightly against his shoulder. In-ho glanced down, lips quirking into a soft smile.
“Tired?”
“Mmm. Just happy,” Gi-hun murmured.
In-ho’s fingers found Gi-hun’s under the table, lacing them together. He didn’t need to say it, but he knew Gi-hun understood.
---
The bar was quieter now, with only a few patrons lingering as the night stretched into the early hours of the morning. Most of the drinks had been finished, and the laughter had softened into the kind of warmth that only came after a long, fulfilling evening.
Jeong-bae stretched with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, my lovely friends, I think it’s time for me to call it. This body requires sleep if I’m to continue my life of questionable decision-making.”
Ji-yeong smirked. “You could always make better decisions.”
Jeong-bae gave her a dramatic look. “Why would I do that?”
Sae-byeok rolled her eyes but pulled Ji-yeong closer. “Come on, let’s call a cab before she starts another speech about living chaotically.”
As the group began gathering their things, Gi-hun and In-ho stood together, watching their friends with an almost wistful expression.
“Well,” Gi-hun said, clapping his hands together. “I gotta say, that was one of the best nights we’ve had in a long time.”
In-ho nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Agreed. We should do this again.”
Ji-yeong snorted. “Should? No, we will. And next time, it’ll be karaoke.”
“Oh no,” In-ho muttered immediately.
“Oh yes,” Ji-yeong countered.
Sae-byeok smirked at In-ho’s visible discomfort. “No running, detective.”
In-ho huffed but didn’t argue.
As everyone stood by the entrance, ready to say their goodbyes, Gi-hun took the lead, pulling each of them into a hug.
“You two,” he said, hugging Sae-byeok and Ji-yeong together, “stop being so disgustingly cute.”
Ji-yeong grinned. “No promises.”
Sae-byeok sighed. “You’re worse.”
Next, he turned to Jun-hee, who, to his surprise, hugged him first. “You and In-ho are kind of adorable,” she said. “But if you hurt him, I’ll personally hunt you down.”
Gi-hun laughed. “Fair enough.”
In-ho followed suit, offering everyone a rare, genuine smile as he shook hands or patted their shoulders. When he got to Ji-yeong and Jun-hee, however, he noticed their attention wasn’t even on him anymore.
Both girls were staring—not at him, not at Gi-hun—but at something else entirely.
“Well, well, well,” Ji-yeong murmured, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Sae-byeok followed her gaze and immediately let out a knowing sigh. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” Ji-yeong countered.
While everyone was busy saying their goodbyes, Jun-ho and Dae-ho had unconsciously drifted toward the quieter side of the sidewalk, standing just a few feet apart. There was an ease to their posture now, no longer carrying the stiffness of earlier.
Jun-ho shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, rocking slightly on his feet. “So.”
Dae-ho, mirroring his posture, nodded. “So.”
There was a pause, a moment of quiet that felt charged with unspoken words.
Jun-ho glanced toward the streetlights, then back at Dae-ho. “You know, I don’t normally do this.”
Dae-ho raised an eyebrow. “Which part? Drinking with reckless people, talking about undercover work, or—” he paused, a small smirk forming “—standing outside a bar like we’re in some kind of dramatic movie scene?”
Jun-ho rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “I meant the whole... ‘actually considering seeing someone again after one night of conversation’ thing.”
Dae-ho tilted his head. “Yeah?” He considered that for a moment before nodding. “Me neither.”
There was a beat. Then, Dae-ho sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I’ll make this easy: lunch.”
Jun-ho blinked. “What?”
“Lunch,” Dae-ho repeated. “Middle of the day. Public setting. No drinks, no pressure. You ask me more about the Marines, I ask you more about playing a ninja as a kid. Fair deal?”
Jun-ho studied him carefully, as if weighing the offer.
Then, slowly, he exhaled a small laugh. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”
“Efficient,” Dae-ho corrected.
Jun-ho nodded to himself, then met his gaze with something almost intrigued. “Alright. Lunch.”
Dae-ho’s smirk widened. “Great.” He pulled out his phone, passing it to Jun-ho. “Put your number in before you try to escape.”
Jun-ho huffed but took the phone, entering his contact. When he handed it back, their fingers brushed briefly.
Neither of them moved away immediately.
Across the sidewalk, Ji-yeong’s voice rang out, her tone filled with glee.
“ARE YOU TWO FLIRTING?”
Jun-ho stiffened while Dae-ho let out an amused sigh.
Jun-hee, standing beside Ji-yeong, smirked. “Looks like someone’s got an admirer.”
Jun-ho groaned, rubbing his temple. “I swear—”
Dae-ho chuckled, unbothered, and stepped back. “I should go before they start planning a wedding.”
Jun-ho gave him a half-hearted glare. “Don’t encourage them.”
“No promises,” Dae-ho quipped, before flashing one last smirk and turning to go.
Jun-ho watched him walk away before exhaling and shaking his head. He turned back toward the group, only to find everyone looking far too entertained.
Gi-hun smirked knowingly. “So. Lunch, huh?”
Jun-ho shot him a warning look. “Not a word.”
In-ho chuckled, reaching for Gi-hun’s hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they start interrogating you.”
Ji-yeong leaned toward Jun-hee as the group began to scatter. “I love being right.”
Jun-hee grinned. “You and me both.”
And just like that, the night ended—but something about it felt like a beginning.
---
The End