***MATURE CONTENT***
Jason Villarosa is a bright rookie detective studying the methods of a serial killer who no one can seem to catch.
Ken Kim is a handsome, eloquent enigma who seems oddly drawn to Jason.
In no time at all Jason finds himself fall...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Just a moment.
Jason Villarosa, 25, had left his manila folder - the one containing all his case notes on the serial killer - on the subway station bench for just a moment. A fight had broken out, some man had accused some other man of trying to pickpocket his wife, and before anyone could yell the words "cool it!" they were exchanging blows fist-to-face. It looked clumsy, in Jason's opinion. He hadn't meant to get involved, but when a stray elbow barely grazed an onlooking old woman, Jason decided that he'd had enough. He set his folder down and made his way over to separate the two men.
When the fight had subsided, Jason returned to his spot on the bench - only to find his manila folder had been opened. It had the look of having been hastily examined, papers not-quite out of place, but certainly rifled through.
Hadn't he been away for just a moment? He thought so.
And yet, it wouldn't have taken long for someone to flip through his folder.
He wondered what the person looking through his folder must have thought. The newspaper clippings, the crime scene photographs of the young men in the ΓAΓ ("Gamma Alpha Gamma") fraternity at Cleave College, the hand-scrawled notes on what Jason thought was a strong start on a profile of the killer.
Or maybe they didn't think anything of it at all, he thought. He hoped that was the case. The serial killer had become something of a boogeyman haunting the city, and his victims seemed to fit a certain profile: handsome, athletic, typically wearing tight jeans, Asian American. Jason wondered what the killer might do if he saw him.
On the packed subway to the outskirts of the city, Jason found that more people than usual had packed into the subway car. He'd positioned himself strategically, near the door, feeling the heat and maybe even sweat of other humans mixing in the air. He sighed when he saw a figure running towards the car, another body to make things even more uncomfortable. The man - handsome, likely Korean, wearing a neat suit with a red tie - met Jason's eyes directly and gave him an apologetic, entreating look.
The look said: Let me in. Please.
As if possessed, Jason said, "Let that man in!" At this other people voiced their disapproval, but Jason stood his ground. "Make some space for that guy!" Even if it made the subway car an even more awful ride.
This man approaching the subway. He had the face of an angel.
And like an angel he seemed to float into the subway car and take up no extra space, at least none that Jason could notice. He was pressed against Jason, black suit pants against Jason's tight blue jeans and black suit against Jason's black leather jacket.
Once the subway started moving, the man smiled and brought his face close to Jason's ear, lips so close Jason could feel them. "I owe you one," he said. "Seriously."
