♔

They went out drinking and eating at the butcher restaurant, consuming more alcohol and grilled meat than originally planned. When they were sitting with the Manyang family in a convivial gathering, there was no easy way out of silly jokes, entertaining Manyang-centric stories and countless anecdotes.

Juwon and Dongsik stayed late into the night, chatting, laughing, indulging, until they slowly got lost in their own world. Eventually, Dongsik managed to convince Juwon to stay with him at his house for the night when they walked out of the butcher shop. 

"Yah, you can't drive back like that…lit up like a damn Christmas tree, Juwon-ah. How ‘bout you stay at my place for the night? I have a spare room upstairs."

He knew and expected Juwon to just rent a nice room at the most expensive hotel nearby somewhere in Munju city, but…there was no argument, no objection when Dongsik suggested he stay with him.

Stay with Dongsik without arguing, without hesitation, without fear of being an annoying disturbance in Dongsik’s life. The soju probably helped Juwon with blending out these self-destructive thoughts that came up again and again, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them - and it made his decision easy to commit.

They walked back a bit wonky on foot, a twenty minute walk from the restaurant to the village outskirts, Dongsik holding Juwon’s arm to guide him over the pedestrian crosswalk - the same crosswalk Dongsik had crossed more than a few hundred times in his life, the same crosswalk Juwon had sped up his sportscar on after they first met in this very town.

And then the Lee family-house came into sight - the building of a forgotten restaurant his parents ran such a long time ago. It stood still messy and hidden behind the tender blooming trees and greening bushes peeking off the fenced backyard and it looked fairly different in spring, more alive and revived, even at night. Dongsik said he had done much garden grooming the last months, including trimming and renovation work on the house here and there since he knew how important the place was for his mother and with the newfound energy and the healing phase he went through, he decided to take care of the house as long as his mother lived. 

After all, this is still our home…

Dongsik showed Juwon the attic room on the third floor of the house, small, with simple wooden furniture from the 70s and a single bed in the dormer. The place was smaller than it looked from the outside, the ceiling slopes low on one side, following the roof, and the single bed was tucked neatly in the roof top corner near the window as if it had always been meant to stay there for watching the moon and stars.

The sheets were clean yet a bit messy, used obviously, but everything else - the small table, the huge oak closet, the cork chair in the corner - carried a trace of time. An empty water bottle stood on the windowsill. Someone must have slept here recently?

“Yeah…I know, it’s not exactly five-star…”, Dongsik admitted in defeat, stepping in halfway, following Juwon inside. “Didn’t think you’d actually really…end up staying.”

Han Juwon didn’t answer right away, measuring the room with the judging gaze of his but he expected no less than what he saw. After all, he had been in this house many times before, as an invader first, then as a guest, then as a saviour. Even if it wasn’t for staying overnight, he didn’t expect the guest room to differ from the other areas. The house was still old-fashioned, yet cozy and depressingly nostalgic.

“The room was barely used. Mostly by my parent’s friends passing through who’d stay a night or two to save hotel costs back in the days, ages ago... Jihun used to sleep here more on the weekend when he was younger, and…well, Minjung slept here too.”

Of course. Minjung stayed here every time she felt dissociated with her “father”.

Juwon stood and listened, not bothered by the fact that this bed had been used by several people throughout the years. Not anymore.

“Mom liked having people around. She said an empty house was bad luck, hah...”

Obviously the room hadn’t really been touched in months, with only Jihun staying over for a few nights here to keep Dongsik company after the Manyang murder cases got solved and justice returned to the Lee-house and family - and to assist him with work around the house.

“It’s a bit cramped, but the window’s good. Gets nice air in the morning.”

It’s fine, Juwon thought quietly for himself.

“If it’s uncomfortable, you can just say so. We can switch places and you can use my bed and there is still the couch downstairs if nothing helps but you know-”

My bed?

“It’s fine.”, Juwon answered him, still somewhat high on soju running through his system, already halfway to the bed as he slumped down, toes gently brushing the soft carpet beneath his feet. 

My bed…Dongsik’s bed?

For a moment he considered-

No. No way. “Wait. What is it with…your bed?”

Dongsik blinked at him in confusion, not ready for this conversation but he joked along, because the situation had gone into an awkward direction the moment Juwon took a step into this house.

“My bed? You want to sleep there? I can tell you a goodnight bedtime story, too…”

“No. Uh…No need…”, Juwon reiterated with a shy glance towards the older man across the room. I’ll be okay.

They both smiled at each other for a moment from sheer late night chagrin and fatigue. Dongsik who stood near the door, Juwon who sat on the smooth mattress of the creaky bed, the roof slope above him almost touching his head when he sat right up.

“There is just one thing…”, Dongsik pointed a finger at the bed.

“What is it?”

“The sheets and linen…I didn’t change them. I’ll get some fresh ones.”

The bed, being thoroughly treated with care, definitely showed signs that someone had been here very recently, yet Juwon cared less about this than he expected to.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Well, as I said, people have stayed overnight up here…” 

Dongsik shuffled over to the small closet in the corner. From the top shelf, he tore out a pair of clean linen he couldn’t remember when he had ever stuffed them in here.

“Jihun crashed the place just a few days ago and y’know... I didn't change the sheets afterward because I wasn't expecting any other spontaneous visitors."

“It’s okay…I’ll survive it.”, Juwon had answered before Dongsik could bring the linen to him. He was too tired to change sheets now, even knowing Jihun had slept in those he was currently sitting on.

I’ve survived worse than a pair of used sheets, haven't I?

“Here, change the pillow at least.”

Dongsik smiled up to Juwon, eyes glistening with fondness and silent care as he grabbed the cushion from the headrest to pull off the used pillowcase and wrap around a new, fresh linen - all while Juwon was watching. Watching how someone else changed the pillowcase for him, for his bed…it made him feel small and young and genuinely cared for.

When Dongsik was done, he patted the pillow once, like he was sealing the late night effort he put into it. 

There was something so disarmingly simple about Dongsik changing a pillowcase. As someone who had always changed his own linen several times, Juwon realized there was a missing memory in his life he never experienced, or maybe one he never got to keep.

Just some distant echo of the past when he was a child; when his nanny would fluff up his pillow every once in a while.

This was the same warmth, the same fondness engulfing him.

It was not the action itself but the ease, the assumption that it should’ve been done. That someone would notice, would fix it, would make something just a little more comfortable for him without asking and yet, he couldn’t take such easy fondness for granted. It felt like he didn’t deserve it at all, yet Dongsik was here and…

“There is a new toothbrush and a fresh towel in the bathroom…if you need anything, though I probably don’t have to say this: make yourself at home...”

Yeah. Already have.

“Thank you.”

“Sleep well, Juwon-ah.”

“You too. See you in the morning…”

Eventually, Dongsik’s gentle, caring smile disappeared behind the closing door with a careful click.

“Thank you, Dongsik-ssi…”, Juwon repeated in a tender whisper, alone but not lonely in the room, half-lidded eyes focused on the made pillow, on Dongsik’s hands that had lingered on it seconds ago, on the soft flannel sheet with its hardly visible, washed out flower pattern, wondering whose heads had slept on these before; maybe Dongsik’s sister and his parents. Maybe Minjung. Maybe even Dongsik himself…

“Thank you…”

It was one of his strongest disciplinary traits that he couldn’t shake off so easily, not even on a quiet weekend; Juwon waking up before the alarm, like he always did - and not only for work - as his internal clock was programmed to tick until a certain threshold that would shift his body and mind into the “useful”-mode after a specific amount of sleep so that he basically didn’t even need a real clock.

But a real clock was a safety net. Sleeping too long, especially when it turned into an oversleeping-on-accident, and being useless to the world, was a flaw he could’ve neither accepted for himself, nor for others.

The room he lay in was painted in dim blue, sleepy and calm, the mattress and pillows warm and cozy, the window with the old wooden frame slightly ajar to let the first morning light slip inside from behind the long curtain in thin, pale lines that spread across the floor and the messy bed.

Their bed. It had become their bed for a while after a night of soju, unprovoked handholding and unexpected, silent confessions sticking to their lips with the taste of alcohol and unconditional devotion. 

For a moment, Juwon didn’t move while allowing himself to relieve the memory, although his conditioned body registered the time before his mind did; a steady habit, ingrained into his very being, and so eerily precise.

As expected, his eyes opened slowly when the digital clock on the bedside table read 05:58.

Of course. As expected.

On point and unmisseable, his inner clock being trustworthy enough to synchronize with the real time flow.

Resting on his back, Juwon exhaled slowly, staring up at the grey ceiling and his hand moved to the side tapping the button on the device, cancelling the upcoming melodic alarm. The familiar urge to move settled in his chest immediately; get up, get a shower, get coffee, start the day with grabbing your running shoes and finish your morning exercise, don’t waste time, don’t break your routine, don’t betray your inner clock that accompanied you for two decades like the only reliable company you could ever call your own. 

Two minutes was nothing, but two minutes were still time, and time shouldn’t be squandered lying in bed being lazy.

He waited, almost mechanical, the way he started counting; tick, tack, tick, tack…down the seconds without looking again, listening to the silent, imaginative ticking of the digital blue numbers to his right, measuring his breathing and the gentle chirping of birds outside in the waking spring against it. His body was already preparing to move, muscles subtly tightening, ready to sit up like a soldier the second the clock turned.

Beside him, Dongsik was still, warm, relaxed and heavy with sweet sleep. One of his arms was loosely thrown across the small mattress space that was left when they both lay on it, breathing slowly and even, as expected, completely unconcerned with time, schedules and efficiency.

With a quick blink, Juwon threw a side-glance at his partner’s peaceful face framed by unkempt dark locks and that perfect morning rawness, the vulnerability he adored more than anything, then forced himself to look away because...this man was the only distraction that could've possibly betrayed his perfectly aligned clockwork.

Focus. Don't let it get to you.

05:59.

Juwon could already taste the coffee on his tongue.

And he shifted, causing the mattress to dip from the weight as he started to sit up, careful, controlled, not to startle the still sleeping Dongsik; because despite everything, despite his strict wakeup routine, even on a Sunday morning, he did not want to wake and bother him.

But oh, Dongsik surely was awake, though he didn’t open his eyes when the warmth at his back pulled away and let an unpleasant coolness creep over his shoulders, quietly and careful like someone trying not to be caught and distracted in their morning routine.

Before Juwon could slip away, sudden warm, familiar fingers wrapped around his wrist, calloused from yesterday’s gardening work in the yard, rough enough to keep, gentle in a grounding hold, stopping him mid-motion.

06:00.

Juwon felt his body locking down into a stasis for a second. 6:00…! Time to get up, time to prove yourself, time to make yourself useful, time to-

His surprised eyes darted to the clock, nervousity pooling in his head, then he turned away and stared at the physical bond between them - Dongsik’s right hand was grabbing him tightly enough not to let him escape under any circumstance.

“...Dongsik-ssi?”

The touch was firm, but it kept Juwon in his place, pressing down his urge to escape. For a second, he just listened to the rustle of fabric and his own pulse between his ears, and a rosy blush around his cheeks had started to dance to the rhythmic beat.

Dongsik hid a smile in the dark behind his eyelids, because he knew Juwon’s daily rhythm by now and the exact second Juwon’s body decided it was time to get up since he felt the hesitation next to him - Juwon hovering between staying and leaving, a chronotopic limbo.

It was almost cute, yet remarkable, that unshaken persistence; the way Juwon waited, like there was some invisible line he had to cross at the right moment or else his day would be ruined, and his inner clockwork irritated, scared to waste time if he didn’t follow the uptight conditioning.

It’s Sunday and still the damn clock mattered to him so much?

For another second, nothing happened, just the warm grip on his wrist kept lodging Juwon into that stasis when the clock turned 6:01. 

And then Dongsik tugged. Not a strong pull, as it didn’t need to be because Juwon followed without much trouble.

He didn’t even realize he was back on the mattress, stuffed between the pillows, until he was already being guided back down, his balance shifting, his carefully planned movement to get out of bed dissolving into nothing but a deliberate collapse. The bed welcomed him again, and suddenly he was close…closer than before, and with the closeness came the yearning. 

06:02. And Juwon ended up behind Dongsik again. This was progression, a battle against time itself.

His arm, still caught, got draped over Dongsik’s waist, curled up towards his chest, pressed there where it belonged - his hand resting right over his beating heart. Dongsik only tugged gently, like he was still half-asleep, guided more by instinct than rational decision. And Juwon followed, of course. He always did - following Dongsik - even when he didn't realize it. 

The coffee machine can wait today…

Dongsik’s own warm hand slid down to hold Juwon’s, their fingers loosely interlacing which took Juwon a second to process along with his fluttering heart.

“…I need to get up.”, he murmured, but it lacked serious conviction and protest, and the way he spoke was much quieter than he intended.

Dongsik only gave a hum, entirely noncommittal. He loved the way the protective weight returned behind him, so familiar and warm, even with that pinch of unrest caused by Juwon’s inner clock surrounding them that he, for once, considered the real enemy on a Sunday morning in Manyang.

“It’s Sunday. And you’re free, are you not?…”, Dongsik whispered, hand tightening around long, strong fingers, back pressed closer to Juwon’s broad chest.

“...just a few more minutes.”

You’re allowed to be useless around me, Juwon-ah…

“Please…”

Juwon gave in, quicker than expected and without a single glimpse of protest. What Dongsik asked wasn’t an order, not even really a request. Just…one of the options Juwon never learned he had before.

Being useless. Hah.

His body slowly gave in, tension easing out of Juwon piece by piece, second by second in sync with the protesting clock thrashing until the turmoil finally died off.

The arm around Dongsik’s waist settled properly, no longer hovering, their bodies and fingers pressing together, more certain now.

Just a few more minutes…

06:03.

A quiet exhale against his neck made Dongsik’s mouth curve into another sleepy smile. Finally. 

Time had taken too much from him already, and he wouldn’t let time take Juwon from him. 

Not Juwon. Of all people. Not Juwon.

Juwon didn’t move, didn’t resist. He blinked, gaze drifting, unfocused, until it settled at the curve of Dongsik’s neck, just inches away, already feeling the salty heat there, the downy brush of dark hair against his skin.

The clock ticked away. And Juwon let his forehead dip forward, hesitantly so, until the cool tip of his nose met warm, soothing skin, until his full lips rested against his partner’s neck, placing a seal of commitment. The urge to move faded entirely and got replaced by peaceful solace.

06:05…