𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐀  𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅  𝐎𝐅  𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒  𝐘𝐈-𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍  ;  the  realization  that  still  seems  to  hit  him  when  they  could  freely  be  who  they  were  —  when  they  finally  decided  to  say  'fuck  it',  and  didn't  care  about  what  everyone  else  had  thought.  Sure,  in  more  public  settings  it  was  still  difficult  to  be  who  they  where  —  to  love  each  other  the  way  that  they  wanted,  but  ...  they  had  an  out,  now.  a  way  out  of  Busan,  away  from  these  chains  that  bound  them  to  a  life  without  one  and  other.  Yi-joon,  molded  for  success  that  he  didn't  want,  living  a  life  filled  with  a  festering  anger  that  threatened  to  burst  at  any  moment  —  a  loose  cannon,  some  would  call  him  —  could  finally  have  the  one  thing  that  money  couldn't  buy  him  ;  the  one  thing  that  he  had  craved  since  he  was  a  child.

                                                        love.

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐍  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐇𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐎𝐍  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀   ;  He  expected  to  keep  this  part  of  himself  buried  deep  where  no  one  could  find  it,  if  only  to  appease  his  parents.   Loving  a  man  ...  it  was  never  an  option  for  him  when  he  was  under  their  thumb.  No  ;  he  had  to  be  the  son  that  Jiyong  wasn't  ;  He  had  to  be  the  one  to  produce  an  heir,  to  continue  the  Choi  legacy  and  yet  some  how,  at  some  point  —  Hyeon  had  wormed  his  way  into  the  icy  heart  of  the  younger.  When  it  happened,  he  couldn’t  remember,  but  even  if  he  had  tried  to  hide  it,  to  be  so  nonchalant  about  how  he  really  felt  ...  Well,  he  could  never  hide  it  as  well  as  he  thought  he  could,  could  he?  Eyes  were  the  window  to  the  soul,  were  they  not?  And  Yi-joon’s  had  unfortunately  always  reflected  the  emotions  he  had  tried  to  hide.  They  both  knew  for  a  long  time  how  they  felt  ;  how  deep  this  whole  thing  had.  Become  —  how  it  went  from  just  sex  to  complicated  emotions  that  they  could  never  truly  act  upon.  But  one  thing  was  for  certain.

      If  Yi-Joon  had  ever  lost  Hyeon,  he  would  not  be  on  this  earth  anymore.

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐇𝐀𝐃  𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘  𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐀  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐓𝐎  𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒  had  become  much  more  than  that.  Nights  where  Yi-joon  became  more  and  more  attached  and  trashed  the  hotel  room  whenever  Hyeon  would  leave  instead  of  staying  with  him  ;  tangled  limbs  in  the  sheets  basking  in  the  afterglow.  Days  like  that  were  behind  them  —  or  they  would  be,  soon  enough.  In  a  place  like  this  —  in  the  underground,  they  had  nothing  to  worry  about.  The  taste  of  iron  lingers  on  his  own  tongue,  arm  not  moving  from  around  his  lover  —  no  longer  a  secret,  no  longer  needing  to  be.   Soon,  they  could  leave  Busan  —  soon,  they  could  get  the  fuck  out  of  here  and  start  their  new  life.

                                                  Together.

“  Yeah,  ‘course  you  are,  looking  like  that.  How  could  I  not  be  fucking  distracted,  huh?  ”  Yi-joon  huffs  out  an  amused  laugh  ;  a  rare  smile  twitching  at  the  corner  of  his  mouth,  returning  the  others  tease  effortlessly  with  his  own,  expression  softening  upon  usually  hardened  features  from  this  …  domestic  interaction  between  them.  Something  that  Yi-joon  had  craved  for  so,  so  long.

𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐏𝐓𝐋𝐘   —  a  call  for  his  name  to  get  his  ass  into  the  ring  and  a  quick  kiss  is  pressed  to  Hyeon's  lips,  Yi-joon  walking  backwards,  the  smile  upon  his  features  smug.

"  Japchae,  eh?  Shit,  you  must  really  like  me.  You're  paying  once  I  kick  this  guy's  ass,  you  hear  me, jagiya  !?  "

to see yi-joon in his element was something else entirely. the rare few times they'd been in a public setting together ( where other people could see, at least ) had been forced. parents from both parties twisting their hand on the matter for the sake of making sure that both the choi and chen names were upheld to the highest degree.

in this setting, at least, a place that he knew to be his lover's getaway from it all ... well, he'd never looked so free, so happy. it's a sight that hyeon wants to see for years to come ; a sight that he thinks he might see a lot more of once busan is behind them. and what a wonderful thing that would be, he thinks, to see yi-joon like this more often.

to see him happy, was perhaps all he'd ever wanted.

" a good point. if you weren't distracted, i'd be offended. i don't put this much effort in for just anyone, you know. " a joke, subtle enough, though there was more truth to it than one might think.

hyeon had always presented the best side of himself to the world, this much was obvious ━━━ a perfectionist through and through. but for someone like yi-joon, the man who held the most precious parts of hyeon right in the palm of his hands, perfect just wouldn't do. he didn't want yi-joon to think of him as anything other than utterly gorgeous, captivating, enchanting, the list went on for miles, truthfully. he wanted yi-joon to look at him when they were thirty, forty, fifty even ━━━ and still be as madly in love with him as he was now.

and that, in hyeon's eyes, would only ever be possible if he put in the work.

he finds himself smiling, sweetly almost in the way that he looks up at the other ; the urge to bring him down and kiss him with everything that he had strong within his chest. but before he gets the chance to, the bell rings and it's yi-joon who closes the distance, a kiss against lips that's far too quick for his liking, but before he gets the chance to sneak in another, yi-joon is already headed toward the ring.

he'd be annoyed about it maybe, if the sight of the other didn't make his heart do flips from the inside of his rib cage. " i do ━━━ and if you're any good in the ring, i might just show you how much i like you, jagiya. "

𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓  𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐎  𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏  𝐇𝐈𝐌.   In  fact,  his  hand  shifts  to  lace  fingers  together,  squeezing  his  hand  in  return  before  shifting  closer,  resting  his  chin  upon  the  others  head  in  their  mutual  silence  ;  though  his  actions  speak  louder  then  words  possibly  could  in  this  moment.  Hand  squeezes  Hyeon's  once  more,  lips  pressing  to  the  top  of  his  head.

the thought of losing yi-joon for even a second brought forth a sense of fear that hyeon hadn't ever thought himself capable of. perhaps it was because of how much they'd fought to be here ; for the right to love each other how they should have always been allowed to, that made him so scared of losing it all.

because where would he be without yi-joon ? miserable, in a life that he'd never asked for, a marriage that felt more like a prison, a job that he never really wanted in the first place. without yi-joon, his life would have been nothing and ... well, he supposes that he's just thankful, of all things, that they're here now.

that yi-joon is with him, here and now.

the smaller shifts slightly, and as kiss is pressed atop his head, he turns to look up. there's no hiding the fear in his eyes, try as he might. but if there was ever a person that he felt safe around, safe enough to show parts of himself that he constantly tried to bury, then it was the man before him.

he reaches up, thumb brushing along the apple of the other's cheek and a small smile, half-hearted at best as he guides yi-joon down for a kiss. " i'm glad you're here. " he murmurs, admitting, indirectly at least, what was going on inside his mind.

" i'm glad you're here, with me. "

He's also sad, but he may be trying to hook a finger around one of Hyeon's as a sign of comfort.

and though not a word is spoken between them, hyeon does shift, just enough to take yi-joon's hand in his own. maybe a little too tight but he needs to know that the other is there because he can't stand the thought of being here alone.

𝐈𝐓𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄  ;  knowing  that  after  this,  after  all  of  this  —  they  would  not  be  going  to  a  home  built  for  the  two  of  them.   No,  Hyeon  would  be  going  back  home  to  that  annoying  woman  who  he  was  forced  to  wed,  and  Yi-joon  would  be  going  back  to  his  own  miserable,  forced  marriage.  Neither  of  them  wanted  that  for  themselves  —  neither  rid  them  wanted  anyone  but  eachother  ;  and  the  anger  within  Yi-joon  scratched  at  the  back  of  his  mind  and  clawed  at  his  chest  like  a  hungry  animal  —  angry  and  rabid  with  a  need  for  what  it  wanted  —  not  what  it  had  to  go  back  to.

                         Beyond  everything  logic  ;  Everything  is  turned  upside  down.

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐘𝐈-𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍’𝐒  𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒  𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐀𝐍𝐘  𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐄  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐈𝐒  𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄   ;  it  so  different  from  his  usual  rough  behaviour.  That  night  a  week  ago  —  he  tried  so  hard  to  push  it  to  the  back  of  his  mind  and  tell  himself  that  it  was  unattainable  —  that  none  of  it  mattered  and  that  they  were  destined  to  not  be  together  —  and  yet  part  of  him  cling  onto  the  hope  that  they  could  more  than  what  they  currently  were.  That  one  of  these  days  he  wouldn’t  leave  a  trashed  hotel  room  in  his  wake  because  Hyeon  couldn’t  stay  with  him.   For  what  were  their  marriages  if  not  a  prison?  And  they,  two  prisoners at  birth,  Unable  to  live  the  life  they  wanted  if  only  to  appease  their  families.

                 You  better  watch  it  —  The  more  I  look,  the  more  amazing  ...

𝐘𝐈-𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍  𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒  𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍  𝐀𝐓  𝐇𝐈𝐌  ;  looks  down  at  the  man  who  had  consumed  his  every  thought  each  and  every  moment  of  every  single  day  ;  whose  very  presence  always  managed  to  sink  deep  into  his  bones  and  settle  within  the  marrow,  calling  it  his  home.  The  man  who  Yi-joon  never  expected  to  fall  so  deeply  in  love  with,  the  man  who  he  craved  from  the  time  he  woke  up  to  the  time  he  went  to  bed,  and  even  in  his  dreams.  Hyeon  was  like  an  all  consuming  entity  ;  making  his  mark  on  Yi-joon  and  consuming  him  fully.  He  stares,  perhaps  a  little  too  long,  gaze  fixated  on  blonde  hair  splayed  out  on  the  car  seat  underneath  Hyeon’s  head  as  if  it  were  some  magnificent,  glowing  halo  —  for  Chen  Hyeon’s  body  was  a  temple  ;  and  for  tonight  (  like  that  night  last  week  ),  Yi-joon  was  going  to  worship  it,  rather  then  hide  behind  those  rough  exterior  walls  that  he  always  seemed  to  hide  behind.

                                          I  cannot  stop  it  —  It's  like  a  ritual.

moments like this were never meant to happen ; neither of them were meant to get this close. regardless of whether it remained unspoken or not, it was only ever meant to be sex ; an outlet, an escape from the lives that they'd been forced to live with no true hope of things ever changing. in each other, they'd found some twisted sense of comfort, relief even, from the pressures of their families, of the expectations that weighed heavily on their shoulders. when it was just the two of them there was never a need to be anyone other than themselves, but that, in itself, had only been a recent development.

yi-joon's words reach his ears and for a moment it's like he can pretend that they're something more. it's a dangerous fantasy to play into, hyeon knows this, but it's a tempting one all the same.

because in his dreams they don't have to hide, they don't have to leave ━━━ content as they are to be with each other without fear of being caught. in his dreams he falls asleep night after night in yi-joon's arms and it's the most peaceful sleep he's ever had. they talk into the early hours of the morning and they say that they love each other, freely and often. his heart aches for what could have been if only they were given the chance, but his mind tells him to settle for moments like this because it's all he'll ever get.

@bitchscoped  :  ❝  you  don’t  have  to  prove  anything  to  me.  i’m  already  proud  of  you.  ❞

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐍𝐄𝐖  𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐀𝐍  𝐀𝐃𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.  𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐉𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐀  𝐁𝐈𝐆  𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐘𝐈-𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍  ;  who  had  grown  up  hating  him  for  most  of  his  life  and  not  remembering  just  how  close  they  used  to  be  before  their  parents  decided  that  they  needed  to  be  separated  so  Jiyong  wouldn’t  influence  the  younger  in  a  way  that  their  parents  didn’t  want.  And  what  the  hell  was  the  point?  Regardless  of  influences,  Yi-joon  still  became  an  angry,  resentful  little  brat  —  and  part  of  him  figured  that  it  was  because  he  had  finally  realized  that  everything  they  gave  him  —  the  wealth,  the  company,  the  luxuries  —  wasn’t  what  he  wanted.

What  he  wanted  this  entire  time,  more  than  anything,  was leaning  against  the  kitchen  counter  …  talking  to  him.

𝐈𝐅  𝐈𝐓  𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐉𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐋-𝐌𝐈𝐍,  they  wouldn’t  be  here  in  this  house,  together  and  away  from  it  all.  Cheol-min  had  given  Hyeon  a  job  that  paid  well,  so  eventually  they’d  get  their  own  place.   But  this  was  …  still  fine.  Yi-joon  was  trying  to  unlearn  everything  his  parents  had  ingrained  into  his  brain  :  how  to  act,  how  to  treat  people  —  his  inflated  ego.  But  Hyeon  tells  Yi-joon  that  he’s  proud  of  him  and  he  can’t  help  the  twist  of  confusion  upon  his  features  ;  as  if  words  were  so  horribly  foreign  to  him  (  they  were,  because  it  always  seemed  that  growing  up,  whatever  he  did  was  never  enough  ).

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐎  𝐁𝐄  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃  𝐎𝐅?  Yi-joon  was  nothing  but  an  angry  disaster  ;  still  fighting  with  his  brother  despite  being  grateful,  still  a  loose  canon  —  Hyeon  was  the  one  providing  for  the  both  of  them  while  Yi-joon  spent  his  time  at  home,  pursuing  his  hobby  (  despite  the  art  shows  he  attended  bringing  in  quite  the  pretty  penny  now  and  then  ),  or  continued  to  spend  his  free  time  illegally  fighting  in  the  underground.  The  gears  within  his  mind  turned  as  he  tried  to  have  everything  make  sense  …  but  he  couldn’t.

“  …  Why?  What  the  hell  have  I  done  to  make  you  proud  of  me? ” 

if he were to write a list of things about yi-joon that made pride swell within his heart, he's sure the list would be a mile long at least. things that were often overlooked in the eyes of the one that he loved, but hyeon noticed. he always had. it was in the way that yi-joon had taken the first step to securing their freedom, the way he was trying to work things out with his brother ( despite the unique difficulties that came with such a task ) for the sake of their new life together. it's in the way that yi-joon feels comfortable enough now, secure enough, to pursue passions that had once been shunned.

it's hard to articulate such things sometimes ; kindness, was not something that either of them had been born with, it was something that they'd had to learn together. neither man was perfect, neither man was particularly good at talking either ━━━ but for yi-joon, hyeon would be willing to try just about anything.

for yi-joon, he'd set the world on fire, if that was what he asked. for yi-joon, he'd left his entire life behind, starting with nothing but the clothes he'd had on his back, all for the sake of happiness. and he'd do it again in a heartbeat, if he knew this was the outcome they'd have together.

" everything. " he shifts against the kitchen counter, gaze flickering away for just a moment before he's looking at yi-joon again. "you've . . . come a long way, you know. " and he knows that doesn't really answer the question ; too vague, but it's only because hyeon doesn't know how to say it. how do you tell the person you've loved for years that just being themselves is enough ? that it's always been enough. it doesn't matter if yi-joon was prone to outbursts, if he was a bit rough around the edges, any of that. none of that mattered, because when you love someone, you don't just love them in parts. you love . . . all of them. the good, the bad, and everything in between.

" god this is ━━━ i don't know why it's so hard to say i just . . . since we came to seoul, you've let your guard down a little bit and it's . . . mm, it's nice to see you smiling. i'm proud of that, i guess. that you're . . . letting yourself be happy. even if there are moments when you're still arguing with your brother, even when there's moments where things get too much, you're trying. i suppose it's just . . . one of the many reasons i'm proud of you. proud that i'm yours. . . proud that you're mine. "

Don’t mind him, just shuffling through @bitchscoped ‘s giant ass walk in closet to find something to wear —

" what do you think you're doing ? " don't pay any mind to the fact that he's wearing yi-joon's clothes. that's entirely beside the point.

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the sentence starters are being sent for .

who . . .

“ Who are you? ”

“ Who do you serve? ”

“ Who taught you that? ”

“ Who’s really in control here? ”

“ Who are you running from? ”

“ Who did this to you? ”

“ Who’s coming for us? ”

“ Who do you think I am? ”

“ Who else knows about this? ”

“ Who are you trying to protect? ”

what . . .

“ What are you? ”

“ What do you want from me? ”

“ What are you hiding? ”

“ What were you planning to do? ”

“ What just happened? ”

“ What did you see back there? ”

“ What did you promise them? ”

“ What happens if I don’t let you go? ”

“ What are the rules I’m not supposed to break? ”

“ What happens after the portal closes? ”

where . . .

“ Where did you come from? ”

“ Where are we? ”

“ Where are you going? ”

“ Where were you when it happened? ”

“ Where does this path lead? ”

“ Where did you get that scar? ”

“ Where is everyone else? ”

“ Where should I stand? ”

“ Where did you put the body? ”

“ Where were you hiding all this time? ”

when . . .

“ When did this start? ”

“ When were you going to tell me? ”

“ When was the last time you felt safe? ”

“ When do we leave? ”

“ When did you stop trusting me? ”

“ When does this end? ”

“ When did you realise the truth? ”

“ When do things go wrong? ”

“ When did you choose this path? ”

“ When will you look at me and be honest? ”

how . . .

“ How long have you been watching me? ”

“ How did you survive? ”

“ How much do you remember? ”

“ How are you this calm right now? ”

“ How bad is it? ”

“ How did you know my name? ”

“ How far are you willing to go? ”

“ How many lies have you told me? ”

“ How do you live with this? ”

“ How are we supposed to fix this? ”

are . . .

“ Are you human? ”

“ Are you okay? ”

“ Are you lying to me right now? ”

“ Are you scared? ”

“ Are you tired? ”

“ Are you hiding something? ”

“ Are you bound by oath or by magic? ”

“ Are you trying to start a fight? ”

“ Are you always this dramatic? ”

“ Are you going to explain or just stare? ”

do . . .

“ Do you trust me? ”

“ Do you remember your name? ”

“ Do you remember me? ”

“ Do you miss them? ”

“ Do you always talk this much? ”

“ Do you have any idea what you just did? ”

“ Do you ever sleep? ”

“ Do you want me to stay? ”

“ Do you think I’m stupid? ”

“ Do you believe in fate? ”

have . . .

“ Have you eaten yet? ”

“ Have we met before? ”

“ Have you been here long? ”

“ Have you done this before? ”

“ Have you ever killed someone? ”

“ Have you been lying to me? ”

“ Have you lost anyone? ”

“ Have you forgiven yourself? ”

“ Have you always been like this? ”

“ Have you already chosen a side? ”

is . . .

“ Is this place real? ”

“ Is something bothering you? ”

“ Is that weapon even legal here? ”

“ Is this your idea of a joke? ”

“ Is this your way of flirting? ”

“ Is someone watching us? ”

“ Is it supposed to hurt like this? ”

“ Is there a way out? ”

“ Is this what you wanted? ”

“ Is it too late to turn back? ”

can . . .

“ Can I ask you a weird question? ”

“ Can you hear that? ”

“ Can I trust you? ”

“ Can you keep a secret? ”

“ Can we slow down? ”

“ Can you help me bury a body? ”

“ Can you look at me? ”

“ Can we talk about what happened? ”

“ Can you stop pretending? ”

“ Can you promise me something? ”

will . . .

“ Will you stay with me? ”

“ Will you tell me the truth? ”

“ Will this ever end? ”

“ Will you protect me? ”

“ Will they come back for us? ”

“ Will you remember me? ”

“ Will you choose a side? ”

“ Will you regret this? ”

“ Will you still look at me the same way? ”

“ Will you stop me if I’m wrong? ”

should . . .

“ Should I be worried? ”

“ Should we be running? ”

“ Should I follow you? ”

“ Should I be afraid of you? ”

“ Should we pretend this never happened? ”

“ Should I stay or go? ”

“ Should I believe you? ”

“ Should I be honest with you? ”

“ Should we trust them? ”

“ Should I have come here? ”

would . . .

“ Would you do it again? ”

“ Would you lie to protect me? ”

“ Would this have been different if I had stayed? ”

“ Would you really let me die? ”

“ Would you have saved them instead? ”

“ Would you still care if you knew the truth? ”

“ Would you leave if I asked? ”

“ Would this hurt less if I understood? ”

“ Would you forgive me? ”

“ Would you choose me this time? ”

could . . .

“ Could you survive without me? ”

“ Could this world exist without you? ”

“ Could this get any worse? ”

“ Could you teach me how to do that? ”

“ Could you be wrong? ”

“ Could you be lying to yourself? ”

“ Could you forgive them? ”

“ Could this be a trap? ”

“ Could you handle the truth if I told you? ”