September 15th, 9:51 P.M.

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"Did you get anything useful, whor-" Yoongi bit his bottom lip to cut himself off from saying the insult as he stepped inside his house.

It was a habit, a reflex almost, and it took a lot of his willpower to not let it slip out.

Stupid fucking contract. Blackmailing piece of shit.

There was no answer, and Yoongi frowned, stepping into his living room, where he spotted the stripper boy laying on his couch, sleeping under a blanket.

He huffed, turning to the kitchen to make a late dinner.

The dishes he had left in the sink were gone, and he was confused until he opened the dishwasher and saw them inside.

Wordlessly, he slammed the dishwasher shut and opened the fridge. There was some pasta in a Tupperware that hadn't been there before, and the detective figured Namjoon must have made it.

Too tired to make something else, Yoongi pulled out the pasta and heated it up.

He took the steaming bowl and a pair of chopsticks back to the living room, turning on the TV as he ate.

The sound of the nightly news slowly rose the student from his sleep, sitting up as he rubbed his eye.

"Yoon'i?"

"Mm." Yoongi stuffed another bite in his mouth.

Namjoon yawned, searching for his phone. "You're back- how was it?"

"Nothing new, just confirmed what we already suspected."

"That the murder was personal and not connected to James's wealth?"

"Mhm."

Namjoon sat up and stretched. "Yeah, the statements gave us basically nothing. No one saw anything out of ordinary at the club, and none of the workers reported James acting weird the days leading up to his death."

Yoongi grunted in annoyance at the lack of leads, not taking his eyes off the TV as he stuffed more pasta into his mouth.

Namjoon found his phone and powered it on. "What time is- fuck!"

"What."

"I'm late." Namjoon threw the blanket off of himself. "Shit- my shift starts right now!"

Yoongi eyed him as the boy scrambled to his feet, his long legs tripping him up as he fell off the couch.

The detective snorted as Namjoon picked himself up, wincing and rubbing his side.

"Graceful, slut."

"I'm better on a pole." Namjoon muttered. He glanced out the window, seeing the darkness of outside. "Will you drive me?"

"No."

"Please? I'm already late." Namjoon pleaded.

"Not my problem."

"And I'm scared that guy will attack me again if I walk alone in the dark to the club." He added, hinting that the attacker was connected to Yoongi somehow, therefor was slightly Yoongi's fault that he had been jumped that night.

Yoongi slurped up a long noodle, still watching the TV.

Namjoon stood in front of him and crossed his arms, blocking off the TV.

"Move." Yoongi scowled, leaning to the side to see.

"You're eating my food. You owe me a ride."

"I paid for these ingredients and for the heat and water you used to cook them." Yoongi retorted. "Move."

"If you come with, you can have free drinks."

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