Criminal Next Door [Namjin]

SM Water Tastes Like Water

Seokjin stared up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom mentally listing adjectives to describe his current state of mind. "Livid," "violent," and "pure spitting mad" topped the list. Following close behind was "impressed," "bemused," and "slightly turned on."

Tonight's shift at Spectacle had been a doozy, to put it mildly. Fifteen minutes after he clocked in, a badge-wearing detective had taken a seat at his half of the bar. Thinking nothing of it, he'd served the detective a scotch and soda before moving on to the next customer. But by the time an hour had passed, his entire section was filled with jacket-and-tie-wearing detectives laughing and trading battle stories.

At first, Seokjin had thought, well hell, this is damned unusual. Until he realized that every customer of the male persuasion who approached was being treated to looks of undisguised hostility from the pack of badges clogging the bar, sending them to Moonbyul's side or to another section of the club. Furthermore, not one single detective had looked below his neck or addressed him with anything but polite deference the entire night.

"What brings you to Spectacle tonight, boys? We don't get a lot of cops in here unless they're arresting somebody," he'd joked, looking for any hint that might confirm his suspicion that Namjoon had put them up to it.

They'd exchanged innocent glances before their spokesman responded, "I don't know what you're talking about. We come here all the time."

In a pig's eye. Namjoon's fingerprints were all over it.

Be good tonight, Seokjin. I'll know if you're not.

The only thing, and he meant the only thing, saving Namjoon from a 2:00 a.m. ass-kicking was the fact that they'd tipped Seokjin well and sent him home with enough money to cover the loss of his usual penis-toting customers.

Namjoon's motive for pulling such an obnoxious stunt continued to be the part that stuck in the boy's craw. Namjoon couldn't very well send his group of tattletales in to spy on Seokjin every night of the week. Therefore his sole motivation had been to toy with the boy. Let him know what the lieutenant was capable of. His arrogance clearly knew no bounds.

So why then, when Seokjin pictured stomping down the hall to Namjoon's apartment to give him a piece of mind, did the scene end with him lifting the hem of the boy's sleeveless shirt and boosting him onto the kitchen counter?

Seokjin would be damned lucky if the manager at Spectacle hadn't noticed something odd about their new clientele and attributed it to Seokjin. They wouldn't appreciate their regular customers being intimidated by Namjoon's trained dogs. Finding another equally lucrative job would be difficult for the boy, and a gap in employment would make it necessary to dip into the stolen cash.

As usual, the reminder of the money made Seokjin uneasy. Most of the time, he could pretend it didn't exist. That they'd moved to Seoul without having to steal in order to make it happen. Funny how a group of cops and one seriously overbearing lieutenant could make you a little nervous about some harmless larceny.

Seokjin worried that someone willing to go to such extremes to keep an eye on him would have no qualms about delving into his past. Possibly had already done so. Though he was convinced EunAh had come by that money illegally and wouldn't be stupid enough to report it stolen, there were no guarantees in this life. If that information was out there, Namjoon could find it easily enough.

Seokjin flopped over onto his stomach, cramming the pillow underneath his head, and did his best to block the image of Namjoon's face after learning his dirty little secret. Besides, there were more important things to worry about at present.

Like how to keep his head on straight when Namjoon seemed determined to knock the boy off-balance, right into his bed.

And how maybe Seokjin wanted him to.