Title: Joining Forces
Fandom: Chief Kim
Rating: G
Length: ~675 words
Note: Seo Yul/Kim Sung-Ryong. May not be canon-compliant; I need to rewatch the end. Also, I don't know if soju goes with steak? *handwaves wildly* A million thanks to mergatrude for beta. <3
Summary: The line between bickering and genuine flirting had been becoming increasingly blurred.


“You know how I knew you liked me?” Kim Sung-Ryong asked, late one night when everyone else in Business Operations had gone home.

“When I saved your life?” Yul looked up, then frowned. “I don’t like you.” Even now they were on the same side, Sung-Ryong was still the most annoying man he’d ever met, childish and irreverent. His style was ridiculous. And he presumed far too much.

“No, from the beginning. You spoke informally to me.”

“I speak informally to everyone.” When he could get away with it, anyway.

“True, but with everyone else, you’re just being rude. With me—” Sung-Ryong made a show of inching his chair closer, daring Yul to move away.

Yul’s stomach flipped, but he didn’t retreat.

“I don’t like you,” he repeated, the words coming out low and rough, as Sung-Ryong leaned in. He wanted to loosen his tie—his collar was almost choking him—but he stayed motionless, afraid of diverting the ever distractible Sung-Ryong from his current course.

Which was probably trying to make a fool of Yul. Again. That was all Sung-Ryong ever did. And surely Yul should want him to cut it out, to show some respect, but there was no one here to act as witness, and Yul couldn’t help hoping this wasn’t just another glib provocation. The line between bickering and genuine flirting had been becoming increasingly blurred.

Case in point. And yes, it did nearly become an insolent peck on the cheek: the intention flickered across Sung-Ryong’s face, plain as day, so Yul—almost without meaning to—reached up and touched his fingertips to the curve of Sung-Ryong’s jaw, stopping him from ducking his head to the side.

Sung-Ryong’s lips parted in surprise.

“TQ’s Pyscho,” muttered Yul. “You really are crazy.”

It was unclear who bridged that final gap, but their mouths finally met, warm and careful, and Yul flushed from head to toe, embarrassed and aroused and irritated all over again. But he didn’t back down. Let Sung-Ryong be the one to finish it.

After a long moment, Sung-Ryong did, pulling away slowly, eyeing Yul with obviously feigned nonchalance. “And you really are gluttonous but… maybe not a sociopath anymore.”

Yul snorted. He’d worn Sung-Ryong’s nickname for him, Gluttonous Sociopath, with a certain amount of pride, but it probably was time to give it up now he was on the side of virtue. He let his fingers drop and recklessly took Sung-Ryong’s hand instead. “Shut up and buy me a meal. I’m starving.”

Sung-Ryong grinned, as if the whole situation were a joke, and Yul tried to snatch his hand away, stung, but Sung-Ryong’s grip tightened. “What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever.” Yul managed to free his hand, but apparently only so that when they stood up Sung-Ryong could drape his arm around Yul’s shoulders and shepherd him toward the door, his body snug against Yul’s side.

“Come on, you poor thing, I’ll feed you before you die of hunger,” he crooned.

At once Yul felt like a prop in one of TQ’s Psycho’s flamboyant schemes. He stopped in his tracks. “Forget it. I’m going home.”

A gleam kindled in Sung-Ryong’s gaze. “So we’ll get takeout.”

“Alone!”

“If that’s what you want.” Sung-Ryong’s mouth twisted, feigning hurt feelings. He straightened his tie and took a step back. “Well, then…”

“Wait.” Yul sighed. Fighting with Sung-Ryong was an ingrained habit, as perhaps was Sung-Ryong’s teasing, but at least now they knew what had really been driving it, all this time. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know.”

Sung-Ryong cocked his head.

Yul stepped towards him, till they were toe to toe. “Steak. Buy me steak.”

Sung-Ryong raised his eyebrows.

Yul rolled his eyes and ceded the last of his dignity. “Fine. I’ll buy you steak.”

“That’s more like it.” Sung-Ryong slung his arm back across Yul’s shoulders, all warmth and cheer. “And soju.”

The thought of what could happen between them after a couple of bottles of soju made Yul flush again. “Yes,” he said. “And soju.”


END