No Strings Detached MM Zine

"But Koko, you're practically glowing.” He placed his hand over his heart and nodded seriously. “On my honor, you can trust me with this secret!”

“Oh hell,” she growled, shoveling more food into her mouth. “Lay off.”

Shou chuckled and with a sweeping glance, conceded the topic for the moment. Their dinner passed fairly peacefully afterwards. Her brother rewrapped himself in his blanket burrito, and by the end of the meal Komaru enjoyed the approaching food coma. It had taken a long time to reach this level of comfort with one another, much trust and bonds rebuilt to amend the tears from their younger years. But now, she could comfortably admit these quiet moments of company with her older brother. It was something she envied of others when she was little, and now she was finally able to relish them. 

For the most part.

Shou’s face peeked out from the hood he’d created with his blanket and he offered another sly smile. “So, our school is having this charity event—”

Her glower landed between nonplussed and caustic. 

“Don’t be like that,” he shooed her glare away nonchalantly. “Us teachers were given tickets to a baseball game the high school team is hosting for their annual charity run. Their proceeds go to the hospital in the main city. I thought it might be something you’d have fun attending.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Of course! I even bought an extra ticket for you to bring a friend! I had originally worried that you’d have trouble finding an extra body to tag along,” he laughed a borderline giggle. “But I shouldn’t have worried at all.”

Komaru was this close to taking back all the feel-good notions from earlier and opting to punt Shou across the room. Still...she supposed it wouldn’t be a bad idea. Yoosung hardly left the dorms, and it wouldn’t be entirely awful appreciating a sunny day together. 

~ 0 ~

Wednesday, 11:49pm

Yoosung watched the little text bubbles for the RFA messenger as they popped up within seconds of one another. This was the most talkative he’d seen Jumin outside of conversations about his illustrious cat.

Jumin Han: I wonder, what does one wear to a baseball game?

Jumin Han: Since it’s an excursion in the great outdoors

Jumin Han: Wearing one of my suits would probably be an inadequate form of attire, not to mention impractical.

Humming, the college student tapped his chin before returning to the phone. What were the odds?

Yoos☆ng: Whoaaaa Jumin! We’re baseball buddies =w= 

Jumin Han: Ah Yoosung, do you happen to be a spectator for the sport? I digress, I’ve yet to attend such a game—although during some business trips to Europe, I attended some badminton and tennis games.

Jumin Han: ^=0 - 0=^But my partner has assured me baseball is unlike either sport.

“Tch, then where are you going for this game Jumin?” Yoosung wondered aloud with a scoff. “New York City for the Yankees?”

Yoos☆ng: Ah, I’m not sure. But it’s supposed to be hot this weekend here in town. 

Yoos☆ng: My friend invited me to a game, but that's all I've got.

Jumin Han: I suppose we’ll both see the outcome of our invitations in due time.

[ZEN has entered the chatroom]

ZEN: Oi, trust fund kid. You’re makin it sound like you’re goin to a funeral. Just enjoy it! It’s practically a date since your partner invited you.

Jumin Han: Look what the cat dragged in. Say, Zen, would you happen to know anything about baseball?

ZEN: You just had to mention a damn cat, didn't you? Maybe I do know but now I’m not gonna tell you.

Yoos☆ng: Why don’t you just ask your partner Jumin??? Since they invited you and all.

ZEN: Yoosung strikes an EXCELLENT question.

Jumin Han: …

Jumin Han: …

Jumin Han: …He is the coach for the team. I do not wish to embarrass him with ignorance.

ZEN: … O-O

ZEN: OvO did I hear that right? Jumin doesn’t know something and he’s embarrassed to ask?????

Jumin Han: ^=ŏ -ŏ=^ I’m asking now am I not???

Yoos☆ng: That’s true. How long do you have to study up??

Jumin Han: The game is Friday.

Well...Now that certainly was a coincidence. Yoosung wondered if Fridays were common days for baseball games. Both he and Komaru would be attending a game for her brother’s school on a Friday.

Yoos☆ng: We really are baseball buddies Jumin! My game is also on Friday.

Yoos☆ng: C’mon Zen! Spare us some of your baseball knowledge!

ZEN: Yeesh. When did it become so popular??? But finee, since Yoosung asked n i c e l -

Jumin Han: I asked nicely. 

ZEN: - y

ZEN: dON’t interrupt!

ZEN: Anyways, I’ll share what I know...

Yoosung should’ve probably taken notes, Zen seemed confident in what he was talking about and some trivia about the sport would at least make Komaru smile. But somehow he was still stuck on the whole baseball-games-on-Friday thing. How weird would that be if everyone bumped into one another! He wasn’t quite sure how he’d explain his friends to each other. Not to mention, he'd been hoping for a little time together with just him and Komaru.

~ 0 ~

Friday, 11:31am

Jumin slung the varsity jacket over the crook of his arm while Jun gathered the extra bats and gear. Any moment now Emrys would be ready, and the three of them would head off to the school. As baseball coach, Emrys had to be onsite an hour early to prep the field house, the dugout pits, and pay the umpires. For being a volunteer outside of his already busy professor job, there was a lot of devotion that went into the extra curricular gig. It was a lot of preparation for just one man and his brother, so Jumin always enjoyed it when they asked him to help. And now it was the first game they asked him to attend alongside them.

"Catcher's mit? Extra baseballs? Ice packs in case of another black eye?" Jun listed off.

Jumin nodded, going through the mental list he'd made as they packed. "The catcher's glove is in the duffle bag with the bats and I've already loaded the bin of extra balls in the back of the car. The ice packs are in the cooler so they won't melt."

"Hoo-hoo, you impress me everytime, big bro." Jun nodded in approval. "You're gonna be running the team in no time."

"While efficiencies may increase with such a change, your brother will remain in charge," Jumin chuckled while handing the varsity jacket over to the boy.

Jun tied the long sleeves around his waist and wiggled his eyebrows. "I mean, Em is the coach, but nothing says you can't be his manager."

He couldn't quite oppose that idea, perhaps Emrys wouldn't mind... It would certainly allow for more time between them. And while Jumin did not pride himself for jumping the gun, so to speak, he did enjoy the idea of these being little family outings between the three of them. But perhaps he was getting too far ahead of himself.

"Are you two ready?" Emrys' voice flitted from his bedroom, followed by the padding of his feet along the wood floor. 

Jun shouted back, "Yup!" 

Jumin hoisted the duffle bag onto his shoulder. Turning around, he started to affirm to his boyfriend they'd made all necessary preparations when suddenly his voice clogged his throat. Sure, he'd seen the Welshman’s baseball attire a few times now. But every time Jumin always had the same reaction. His heart stuttered in his chest as he watched Emrys swing his cleats over his shoulder with a cocky smile, his jersey neatly tucked into jeans that hung low on his hips. 

A slow swallow made its way down Jumin's throat as he tried to compose himself. 

"Something catch your eye?" Emrys' tone almost leered, but his eyes shimmered with amusement and he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Guys, I'm leaving out the door. We're gonna be late." Jun shuffled out with an annoyed groan, sensing the air between the two adults.

Jumin cleared his throat and followed the boy. Everytime Emrys wore his coaching uniform, Jumin discovered something new about himself. "Your brother's right, we'll catch traffic."

Laughter followed after him as Emrys locked the door and tossed a smug grin over his shoulder. "Later, then."

Walking side by side, the two interlocked fingers as they made their way outside where Jun waited for them. Driver Kim was already out front, helping the high schooler pack supplies into the cab. Taking the duffle bag to go load into the car, Emrys placed a light peck on Jumin's cheek only to immediately chase it with a raspberry against his skin. Jumin huffed. This man was going to be the death of him.

Friday, 12:55pm

Yoosung and Komaru hopped off the bus, talking excitedly. They'd made the trek across Seoul to get to Shou's school. The game didn't start until one o'clock, and considering they'd missed their first bus, it was a win to have made it even a bit early. 

Komaru fished the game tickets from her pockets and led the two of them behind the main building to where the open field and baseball diamond were. Together they made their way up to where they could see plenty of parents and kids sitting on glistening bleachers. Between the teams warming up, the excited chatter of a decent crowd, along with eager sales from a little concession stand—it was a far better turnout for a meager high school game than either expected.

Swinging his arms excitedly, Yoosung continued to relay his enthusiasm for their not-date. He was eager to meet the notorious Shou and he was equally interested about his very first baseball game. If they weren't about to approach very normal and perfectly rational people, Komaru would've punched Yoosung for acting so cute. The warmth that swelled along the bridge of her nose and that caused her heart to skip a beat, she blamed it all on the overbearing summer sun that reigned in the sky.

"Where's your brother supposed to meet us?" Yoosung questioned, looking around with surprising attentiveness for someone who prefered living their life as a NEET.

With a gentle bite to her lip, Yoosung is excited about meeting Shou, she checked her phone before looking around again. "He said he'd wait by the snacks."

"Oh good!"

He took the lead this time, keeping an eye out for her brother. 

"Koko!"

It was a clear and crisp shout that carried over the outdoor din. The two teens turned to see a surprisingly similar figure to Komaru. He greeted his sister with a tight hug and a ruffle to her hair—which she promptly fixed. After a moment, he inspected Yoosung with a narrowed smile. 

"My name is Yoosung Kim," Yoosung chirped first despite the growing nerves that constricted his throat. "Thanks for letting me join you and Ko today!"

There was a widening of said-smile until it almost seemed slightly sinister. "Shou Sato. I've heard about you. Glad you could join us."

Shou grunted when Komaru dug her elbow into his side. "Aha, well that's over now! Let's go find our seats."

Yoosung felt his cheeks flush. "Right, we should look for good seats!"

Looking for open spots on the bleachers, Yoosung spotted a familiar head of raven hair, sitting calm-as-you-please beneath a beach umbrella. If it weren't for the light colored suit, he may have thought he was seeing things. But no one would have the sanity to wear semi-formal attire to a highschool baseball game during a peak summer afternoon.

"Hold on a sec," he muttered, rushing from his group to the man beneath the shade.

And sure enough, there was Jumin—sunglasses covering his eyes and hands folded neatly in his lap as he watched the warm-ups with far too much analytical intrigue.

"Jumin?" 

Said man looked up, no note of surprise in his expression or voice. "Yoosung. You'd mentioned your game was also today."

"Why are you here and not in New York?" The college student demanded.

"New York?" There was a hint of confusion before it disappeared. 

"You said your boyfriend was the coach!"

"He is."

"Yoosung?" Komaru and Shou approached, both equally perplexed. "Is this someone you know?"

Clearly kicking himself, he tried not to whine. "Yeah, he's a close friend."

It took about five seconds before Komaru double-took the new person. "Holy shi—"

"Well, another pleasure," Shou interrupted, offering a friendly wave. "What brings you to our school?"

"I came to support my partner, the coach, and his brother, a player."

"Oh? You're with Emrys?" 

Komaru stopped them both. "Wait, wait, wait. Emrys? Like Professor Emrys?"

Yoosung felt the world rock again. How small was their city? "Emrys Carew? Teaches astronomy?"

With a sigh Jumin gestured over to the field. 

Yoosung and Komaru erupted with so many questions. 

In the end, once the game had started and the shock had died down, they'd joined C&R's poster child. Shou had taken up chatting with Jumin, the two getting along surprisingly well. Komaru and Yoosung sat behind them, luckily able to converse on their own.

"On a level of one to wtf do you think all of this is?" Komaru hissed—the crowd had settled down for the most part, watching with anticipation as the first kid of the third inning went to bat.

"All of this?" Yoosung echoed. "If you mean our professor dating my friend, then yeah, wtf."

Komaru snorted before her vision snapped to the game. The player had tried to punt the ball but failed miserably, sending the baseball reeling directly into the face of the pitcher. The crowd roared with both laughter and outrage. A wince caused Yoosung to flinch back, and she couldn’t help but snort. That had been unexpectedly cute. Wait, cute—

Oh, now it looked like the umpires were subbing out pitchers. But the crowd had petered out again, like the ocean tide ebbing out to sea momentarily before it would rise up again. Little kids chimed in front and behind them, and the adults' chatter was no better. Even Jumin and Shou were talking relatively loud compared to their usual talking-voices, the racket of the onlookers sucking in their conversation to add to the rest of the cacophony.

"Y'know, I'm really glad you invited me." Yoosung scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Oho, getting sappy on me Yoosungie?" Komaru teased, watching as the first pitcher hobbled off the field. The player still at home plate grimaced and reset his stance, bat in hand ready for a real swing and not a fake-punt this time. The sub-in also readied himself.

"I wouldn't call it sappy," Yoosung chirped back, his glance sliding slowly to her. "I'm glad I got to meet Shou. You talk so much about him, and if he's important to you, then he's important to me."

That caught her attention. "Yoosung—"

"Listen, Ko," his face scrunched and his brow furrowed.

A sudden crack of metal distracted Komaru. Muddled heat rushed by her as children squealed excitedly and enthusiastic parents of both teams shouted encouragement for their players. On the field, boys scattered and shuffled hurriedly, their coaches yelling from the dugout pits.

“Hey, where did the…” Komaru searched around only to see a white blur blitz past the baseball diamond fence towards the crowd. 

Beside her the blond boy hesitated for a moment before steeling his eyes and reaching for her wrist. She felt her body go rigid. She and Yoosung spoke at the exact same time.

“The ball looks like it’s headed right for us.”

“I really really like you.”

Time broke in half, momentarily. Their gazes met and Komaru found herself incapable of uttering anything other than a strangled “ha?”. Yoosung likewise gave a dumb owlish gaze, his eyes blown wide like a deer in the headlights or a fish out of water. Together their vision traveled to the hand on her wrist, back to one another, and then finally to the speeding baseball that collided right smack-center of Yoosung’s nose.

Time sped up, and Yoosung yelped as his head jerked back with the impact of the hurtled projectile. 

“Yoosungie! Are you okay?” Komaru instantly reached behind him, cradling his head and preventing it from smacking into the knees of whoever sat behind them. 

The jumbled and dazed answer, hardly coherent, said he was probably not okay.

Jumin and Shou both instantly turned around. Her brother’s mouth wriggled into a strangled smirk as he tried his best to act serious. Jumin reached out and placed a consoling pat to the teen’s knee.

“Congratulations,” he gestured to the baseball now innocently resting in Yoosung’s lap. “They say when you catch a foul baseball, you get to keep it. A souvenir of your date with Ms. Sato.”

“Oh that’s true!” Shou piped up, giving Jumin an encouraging pat on the back. “What a great prize!”

“Really?” Komaru shot them both a sharp glance before focusing back on the disoriented blond. “Are you okay?”

“I think my nose is bleeding,” he warbled, hand going to cover his middle portion of his face. 

The laugh that broke past her lips really wasn’t intentional. But his voice was so stuffed-up due to his nasal passages being wrecked by a baseball going Mach 10. Pushing her fist against her mouth to try and stifle the giggles, Komaru scolded Shou into getting ice from the concession stand while Jumin handed over a handkerchief. What an afternoon. 

Friday, 4:25pm

 The last of the crowd and baseball players filtered to the parking lot. Jumin helped direct the assistant coach into packing away the equipment, only stopping when Jun hopped over to him—his former pristine uniform stained with grass and dirt.

"Did'ya see me?" Jun egged on. "If it hadn't been for second base, I would've made it safely to home in that last inning."

"With more training, you'll surely make it successfully." Jumin encouraged, "afterall you were already so close."

The assistant coach shouted goodbye and left as Jumin gave a dismissive wave. 

"You're right!" The boy enthused, "all I gotta do is train harder! Build up my speed, stamina, attention to where the basemen are, and..."

Jun's words fell on deaf ears as Jumin watched Emrys approach the field, toting the water jugs he'd emptied out behind the fence. A warmth bubbled in his chest along with a fondness. Emrys was drenched with perspiration and skin slightly sunburnt (and his uniform about as dirty as Jun’s due to pre-game practice). 

So hard working.

Emrys dropped the water jugs against the dugout benches and sauntered up to place a light kiss against Jumin's lips.

Jumin instantly cringed. Salty. He placed his hand between his and the other man's mouths. "You can negotiate for more kisses once you no longer smell of sweat and turf."

"I'm offended," Emrys snorted, pulling away. " If you don't want my smelly kisses, then you don't get my best kisses."

"Just one moment—" Jumin tried to amend.

Heading over to where Jun had smartly decided to gather the duffle bags, Emrys gave his brother a playful shove before hoisting both equipment bags. "You hungry? Big bro Jumin's paying for dinner."

Jun fistpumped the air, making his own way to the parking lot.

After a conceding sigh, Jumin trailed after Emrys and picked up the canister of baseballs. "Maybe we can negotiate now."

"Nuh-uh, you lost diplomatic rights," the other man laughed. "I deserve sweaty kisses and that's that."

Jumin would endure the teasing for now. Admittedly that was warranted. He huffed in amusement, content with slipping his hand in Emrys’.

Friday, 5:01pm 

Komaru and Yoosung stepped off at the bus stop right before the university exit. Not because either wanted to walk the extra block, but the convi was there and they both wanted dinner. So Yoosung agreed to walk back to his dorm—to set up for their usual game night and nurse the bruise brightly blooming in the middle of his face—while Komaru picked up their food. 

"Fried chicken?" She asked.

Yoosung nodded and added a congested "yeah”.

“Hey look on the bright side,” she snorted, running her fingers through her bangs, “No one’s gonna try and mug you with that third eye growing on your nose.”

“Ahaha, I forgot how to laugh,” Yoosung sniffled, rubbing his fist against the blue-green tip of his nose. “See you back on campus, Ko.”

She watched him turn around. His ears, even in the dim evening, were bright red. She wondered how embarrassed he was. The beating via baseball came at an inopportune time for him. For them. Her hand fisted in the hem of her skirt—had she been waiting for those words from him? They’d known each other for so long now, it seemed. From accidentally making enemies out of each other to forcing him out of his shell when his cousin passed, Komaru had seen many of her university days alongside Yoosung. And hearing his words, among the swell of a cheering crowd, his hair dazzling in the bright sunlight, his grasp fervent on her wrist…

“Yoosung!” She called out before she could think any further about it. 

He turned around with a surprised lift of his brows. “Ko? What’s up? Did I not give you enough change for the food? I don’t think I have any more spare won on me tho—”

“What you said, on the field. I didn’t get to answer you.” She didn’t know where to look. Her feet? His feet? His hands? The puppy-dog violet gaze searching her with confusion? “I like you. Too. I like you too. A lot.”

“Oh.” He stared at her, his mouth wide open.

The air hung tense between them and Komaru found she couldn’t take the suspenseful dizziness drumming in her heart. “Anyways, going for the food now! Later loser!”

As if by magic, the static popped as she started to sprint away, Yoosung shouted after her. “Wait! Komaru! Wait a sec!”

“Why are you chasing me?” She yelled at him, her heartbeat thundering threateningly loud against her ribcage. 

“Why are you running?” Yoosung yelled back as he raced after her, an ear to ear smile breaking past his lips.

Saeran was unhappy.

Though not an uncommon feeling for the other man after all he'd been through, being in the hospital evoked the feeling strongly. He was constantly feeling judged, being watched, and it felt suffocating. His lack of choice was all too obvious now. If having most of the control he had over his own body being taken away wasn't enough, being forced to see people he didn't want to deal with was the final nail in his coffin.

It was overwhelming, upsetting, and made him want to disappear more than ever before. Trying to shut out the rest of the world wasn't an option, as it only forced its way in. Unless he had to answer whoever stopped by, Saeran ignored their questions and small talk, and eventually they gave up. Everyone had, except for that boy.

Rowan had been easy enough to lure to the apartment. He obviously hadn't trusted Saeran, and was just as uneasy around the RFA at first. However, he stayed to work as their party coordinator simply because he "had nothing better to do". Of course, with the tense situation that developed, he became far from bored. "Terrified" was a better descriptor.

The guilt Saeran felt over that was overwhelming. He'd been the one to choose Rowan, to lure him in, to try to kidnap him. He killed a man right in front of him. Had it not been for him, the party coordinator wouldn't have ever been dragged into this. Which made it all the more confusing when he came to visit alongside his brother.

The ex-hacker had been so shocked at his appearance, he remained silent only because he wasn't sure what to say. His guest left defeated, but he returned alone the next day, and the next. In fact, despite Saeran's silence, Rowan kept showing up, coming by to ramble at him about his day-to-day life and eventually to sit quietly and read. The silence was a lot more comfortable.

He let the silence remain til the other man came to his defense from a rude nurse. After that, he hesitantly reached out, reigniting his guest's desire to speak to him. The ex-hacker barely replied, and his guest enthusiastically continued on like it was normal. It started off shakily, and he would cut short any inquiries on his wellbeing and brushed off Rowan's attempts at comfort on bad days, but it went well.

They had made a lot of progress since then.

The last time Rowan was here, he held his hand. The other man had sensed his upset and reached to comfort him. Despite his first instinct to push him away, he accepted it without argument, not returning the favor or rejecting it. It felt so warm. When was the last time he got to feel another’s touch without being hurt or manipulated in the process? A brief image of his brother’s arms wrapping around him flashes in his mind, and he scowls.

Saeyoung. Saeran still wasn’t alright with him, not fully, but he was trying. As much as he hated it, he was jealous of his twin. Not just for his carefree lifestyle all these years or the friends that supported him so steadfastly, but for his relationship with Rowan. When he saw them, they were laughing and falling over each other or comforting one another. There was always some physical contact, and so much trust.

Rowan had confirmed that no, they weren’t together like he had assumed, but the bond they shared was perfectly sweet. He felt starved watching them. It was then, when he deciphered what that tension he felt when he saw them together was, that he faced his feelings for the brunette.

He was smitten. Completely, utterly, sickeningly smitten; when he realized his feelings, he had grown so nauseated it made his head spin. He wasn’t entirely sure he was in that deep, but only such a dramatic word could describe the heaviness with which it weighed on him. Someone like him wasn't meant for feelings like this.

The next time Rowan visited, Saeran blamed his suddenly more reserved behavior on the medicine he was being given. He wasn’t questioned, but the guilt of lying stung.

Saeran couldn't let himself feel this. It was inevitable that he would prove himself yet again to be a monster. He would hurt Rowan and it was eating him alive, but he'd rather let the feeling fester inside of him than cause the man any more pain or stress. It was easier said than done.

Nothing had filled that deep, all-encompassing void of guilt inside of him but the other man's visits. Hiis quips and words of comfort provided some relief. It was barely making a change, but the air still felt lighter around him. There was no tension, no distrust, and he never felt cornered.

He could just exist, never feeling pressured to do any more than that.

These awful feelings threw a wrench into that, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Just like every other thought and feeling, he wanted to push it down in the hopes of suffocating it until it was quiet or died. Or until it explodes and destroys everyone around you, a small voice in the back of his mind whispers. That was just as likely, and the thought terrified him. His hands clench in the thin sheets of the bed, trying to ground himself the best he can.

Downstairs, Rowan worries his bottom lip between his teeth, tapping his boot nervously against the ground as he waits for his security escort. He knows his anxiety comes off as impatience to the staff, giving him more room than everyone else as he leans against the wall, and he lets it stay that way. With the feelings swarming in his mind, he was sure that any invasion of his space might set him off.

After countless visits, coming to see Saeran during his recovery became a routine he enjoyed greatly. It wasn't always this nice; the first few times, he came with Saeyoung, but after being met with silence, he persuaded the hacker to let him come on his own. Nothing changed at first, the room being filled with an awkward silence as Rowan attempted one-sided conversations. The man refused to respond, rarely even offering him a glance. It frustrated him to no end; even after dropping his own guard, he hadn't gotten anywhere.

Eventually he gave up on trying to communicate, simply coming to sit in the corner and read. It had to be lonely, being stuck there, so he figured having another heartbeat in the room that wasn't poking or prodding him or interrogating him on his mental state might help. The tension in the air had quickly faded into something more peaceful, and some of Saeran's guard visibly slipped away. That was good enough for Rowan; as long as he wasn't actively being shut out, it was still progress.

Surprisingly, Saeran was the one to break the silence, though not without good reason. Much to their annoyance, a nurse interrupted their visitation, disturbing the peaceful co-existence they had with each other. She was everything Rowan hated to see: pushy, unsympathetic, and completely uncaring about his mental wellbeing.

It made his heart hurt, seeing the other man flinch when she slammed her clipboard down on his bedside table. Every word out of her mouth was ridicule, and though he knew the ex-hacker was used to such talk, that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

When she left with one last comment on how scrawny he still was, Rowan didn't hesitate to jump up from his seat. Following behind, he proceeded to chew her out. For her complete lack of experience, for her apathy, for taking out whatever the hell was wrong with her on Saeran. It wasn't long before his voice raised, but he was careful not to start screaming. The last thing he wanted was to upset the already stressed man more.

It didn't surprise Rowan that his friendly feelings grew into something stronger, but that didn't make the realization any less terrifying. For the first few days, he struggled to reel himself back in, trying to shove his feelings to the back of his mind so he could be there for the other man without guilt eating away at him. Being so friendly to him only felt like he was taking advantage of the man's barely earned trust.

It didn't last, as he noticed Saeran growing increasingly tense at his less emotional, more closed-off responses. With a quick explanation, claiming he'd not been feeling like himself -- not a complete lie, as such a deep feeling had knocked him off his feet -- and that he was sorry, he mended the situation and forced himself to swallow his guilt.

He could tell Saeran didn't fully believe him, but the man was obviously relieved to have things back to normal the next visit, when Rowan came in grinning. It earned him a small smile in return, the first he'd seen from the man.

Rowan is torn from his reminiscing by a security guard clearing her throat. She nods towards an open elevator. "Come on, tough guy. I'll drop you off." Though he bristles at the obviously mocking title, he doesn't argue, not wanting to get kicked out. Instead, he trails after her and steps in, trying to calm the fluttering that starts up in his chest at the thought of seeing the other man.

The ride up is tense, the brunette almost lunging forward when the doors slide open. "Thanks," he calls over his shoulder with a scowl. Though he always looked forward to the visits, he hated dealing with the staff. Setting his eyes on Saeran's door, he picks up the pace, hurrying down the hall as fast as he can despite his slight nervousness.

Before Saeran's thoughts can spiral anymore out of control, the all-too-familiar sound of chains clinking together sounds down the hall, the thoughts slipping from his mind to let him focus. It was definitely him; despite the noisiness of his entrance, the steps sounded hesitant, stumbling over themselves. The awkwardness always manages to make his heart feel a bit lighter, some of the dread that had been bubbling up inside of him slipping away.

As expected, the footsteps come towards his room, stopping just outside for a moment. There's a pause, his guest taking a moment for a deep breath, before the door is cautiously pushed open. Rowan jumps a bit upon seeing him, obviously not expecting Saeran to be sat up waiting for him. The surprised look on his face quickly fades into a soft smile, some of the tension he entered with easing from his shoulders.

The man always put up a tough exterior, Saeran knew, but he trusted him enough to let that down. Whether that was because he wanted mutual trust or because he was just plain stupid, the ex-hacker wasn't quite sure, but it never bothered him, and he never bought up the subject.

The brunette shuffles his way over to him without a word, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. Everything about him is a contradiction: the gentle look on his face combined with his dark and intentionally rough exterior, the way he avoided eye contact despite his obvious distaste at being seen as a pushover, how he still wandered to his side like a clueless puppy despite all Saeran had done, as if he wasn't dangerous.

That frustrated him most of all. He was trying so hard to protect everyone for once after he had planned to destroy their lives. It was like the male could see right through him, but never saw what Saeran wanted him to.

As usual, Rowan slouches forward, giving him that stupid grin that made his stomach flutter and twist up all at the same time. "Sorry I'm late, but I'm sure you're used to it now. Have you eaten yet? I kinda had to skip lunch, didn't have time." He trips over his words mid-sentence, distracted by the way that his heavy jacket slips off his shoulder.

Every visit started the same, his visitor pitifully trying to disguise his fretting as small talk and him offering up muttered responses. It was still progress from how they started, but Saeran always felt some guilt seeing how much effort the other man put into trying to talk to him. Wanting to change that the best he could, he tries speaking up some, clearing his throat. ''No. I don't like the food."

Contradictory to the pout he usually gives at that response, Rowan's eyes light up. "Great! Um. Not that you haven't eaten because the food sucks. Just... gimme a second." With that, he hops up from his seat, scurrying back to the door, nearly forgetting to put up his facade before motioning for a nurse.

Saeran can't decipher much from his position, only picking up on the word "privacy" and the dirty look the man shoots the nurse when she shakes her head. Only a few more words are exchanged before his expression brightens, and he whirls back around.

To his surprise, the unusually peppy man closes the door. That had never been allowed before, both for Saeran's safety and his visitor's. But Rowan was always rather convincing, not to mention stubborn, so it wasn't too shocking that he was the one earning him that right.

The act now fully slipped away again, Rowan practically trips over his feet moving back, rummaging through the pockets of his oversized jacket for something. Had it been anyone else, he might've been paranoid or distrusting, but he knew the man in front of him wasn't a threat in the slightest.

Once again stunning Saeran, the man pulls out ice cream -- an entire tub of it. Mint chocolate, he noted, feeling his heart skip a beat at the realization that he had remembered his favorite flavor. Outside food was also previously off-limits, and guessing from the way he had asked for privacy, it still was.

Once again, the man isn't making sense. Not only has he gone out of his way to visit daily, staying even on Saeran's worst days until he's either asked to leave or is forced out by the staff, now he's breaking rules and risking trouble for himself all for his sake. Why? He was a monster and a murderer, and he's being smuggled in gifts?

All of the kindness he was offered was foreign to him, and perhaps that was for the best. He didn't deserve any of it. All he deserves is to rot in this awful place, his nose constantly stinging from the scent of medicine and his eyes burning under the blindingly bright fluorescent light.

"...Saeran?" Broken out of his trance, he shakes his head, feeling a tinge of annoyance seeing the red that reflects off the bedpost in his peripheral. His natural color hadn't grown back much, but it was enough to put a scowl on his face. Not once did he want to let the white fade, wanting to have some semblance of separation from his brother, but he didn't have a choice. Not here, not anywhere.

Only Rowan ever offered him control, and even he himself was limited in what he could allow. It wasn't fair. That, too, made him grateful for his stubborn visitor. It was rare for him to give up when he had his mind set on something, and that gave Saeran a lot more freedom than he would have without him.

"I'm fine," he reassures. Rowan doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't pry, instead placing the tub on the sheets between them before digging in his pocket for a packet of utensils, unmistakably snagged from the hospital's cafeteria. Placing it in his resting hand, the man gives a paranoid glance back towards the door before grinning widely.

"I don't think they're onto me, so go ahead and eat up." Though he hesitates a moment, Saeran reaches out to pull the ice cream into his lap, popping the lid and taking a scoop. It's slightly melted as expected; it couldn't have made the trip by motorcycle all the way over here and through the wait downstairs totally unscathed. It's tasty nonetheless, a huge relief from the blandness of the food he had to eat here. Before long, he's digging in, feeling starved despite having the three meals a day rule enforced on him.

After a couple of minutes, he glances up at his guest, perplexed to find him entertaining himself by winding a loose thread of the sheets around his finger. It was rare that Rowan was this quiet for so long, and even stranger that he wasn't busying himself the same way that Saeran was. Sinking his spoon into the cold mint, he hums to get the other man's attention. Immediately his eyes are on him, deep blue piercing into him and making him melt and tense up all at the same time.

"What are you doing?" He asks, eyes flitting between his face and the string half-wound around his finger. The other man glances away sheepishly, though he doesn't flinch at his blunt tone; yet another thing they were making progress on. Rowan pauses, searching for a good answer and sighing in defeat when he can't find one.

"...sitting here?" He answers quietly, giving Saeran an uncertain look. "I don't really have anything to do. I was already running late, so when I swung by the store, I just grabbed the ice cream and left."

"Didn't you say you didn't eat lunch?" The redhead questions with a raised brow. The silence lingering in the room tells him all he needs to know. Huffing, he shoves the tub towards him without a second thought, surprising the both of them. It was unusual for him to share anything, especially this, but he wasn't about to pull his foot back when he was already taking a step forward. "Go on. You'll make yourself sick if you don't."

Though he wouldn't admit it out loud -- he wasn't sure he could even if he really wanted to -- Saeran cared for the other man deeply. It wasn't just the budding feelings of affection. His worry for his wellbeing, though underlying, had lingered ever since the party coordinator had set foot in that apartment.

If he didn't care, he wouldn't have stopped him from stepping on the glass from the window. Of course he would've, the idiot, and back then he told himself it was because it'd be easier to transport him if he went uninjured. Now, the truth was obvious.

Reassured by his adamance, Rowan reaches out to take the tub. While keeping a close eye on Saeran's face to check for any signs that he might change his mind, he fails to notice how close their hands get, accidentally brushing their fingers together as he grabs it. The touch is minimal, lasting under a second, but it still startles them both. The brunette gasps, nearly dropping the ice cream as Saeran pulls back.

For a moment they're both silent, staring at each other with flushed cheeks and unreadable expressions. Saeran knows why he reacted that way, but… what about the other man? Was he afraid of him? He didn't look frightened, only embarrassed and a bit flustered. Though there was no reason for him to be flustered, right? Maybe he was just touch-repulsed. They had a lot in common, after all. It was obvious the party coordinator's mind was spiraling just as much as his, the panic in his eyes blindingly obvious.

Trying his best not to overthink and to diffuse the situation, Saeran grumbles and snatches up the spoon, getting another scoop and nudging it against the boy's lips. It smudges against his nose, making him blink in surprise. His fingers coming up to up to wipe away the small bit, he laughs, some of his nerves obviously soothed. Good, Saeran thinks; he can barely handle his own emotions, let alone someone else's.

Holding the spoon out like a threat, he stares blankly at him. "Take it. I'm not feeding you. And sit over here so you don't drop it; that's the last thing we need." He curls his legs in, giving the taller man more room.

The brunette sits on the edge of the bed and takes the spoon happily, fixing his attention on the ice cream as he… purposefully seeks out the chocolate chips, to the point where his spoonful is more chocolate than ice cream. Weird, but Saeran doesn't argue.

Some part of him finds it cute, and he shakes his head, desperately trying to swat the thought away. He had hoped that the feelings would fade, but they were blossoming into something far more dreadful with every visit. That wasn't Rowan's fault; it was his own for not keeping himself under control.

These feelings would have to die with him, he concludes, blinking rapidly to bring himself back. When those blue eyes turn upwards to glance at him, he knows he's been caught getting lost in his mind. Bracing himself for the obvious question, he accepts the tub pushed back to him, tensing when the other man speaks up just as he gets a mouthful.

"What's buggin' you?" Rowan asks, his brows furrowed with concern. Taking his time to let the ice cream melt in his mouth, Saeran answers with a shrug. Remembering his earlier attempt to be more open, he sighs, nudging around a chocolate chip as he tries to think of a good way to put his thoughts into words without exposing his feelings.

"...Is it okay for me to feel things?" It's a clumsy question, and he mentally kicks himself for a multitude of reasons: for how stupid he sounds, for burdening the other man when he'd already been through so much because of him, for the way he's just now noticed his hands shaking. But none of this seems to bother Rowan, who smiles gently and nods.

"It is. I promise." Saeran jumps when Rowan's hand seeks out his, giving it a light, comforting squeeze. He seems oblivious to his own actions, getting lost in thoughts of his own. "It feels… wrong, right? Like anything that isn't terrible isn't for you, and that you're meant to be miserable in silence. It's lonely."

The hand resting on his presses down slightly, and despite the conflicting feelings whirling in his mind, Saeran moves his hand, entwining their pinkies together. He isn't sure what feelings the other man is hiding, but it makes some part of his heart hurt knowing that he's suffering too.

"I've felt lonely a lot," He continues, staring out the window with a solemn expression. It's quiet for a while, Rowan staring at the clouds and Saeran staring at him. Finally, a soft smile tugs at the brunette's lips, and he turns his attention back to him. "I won't let you be lonely too. Not anymore. Okay?"

Saeran's face feels warmer, but he doesn't let himself turn away, fixing his eyes on one of the freckles dotting the other man's cheeks as he hums an acknowledgement and squeezes his hand. Only now does Rowan notice the way their pinkies are curled around each other, but before he can pull back, Saeran tightens his grip. Not enough to trap him, but enough to get across his message. He can't bring himself to say it out loud, but all he wants is for the other man to stay.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rowan's eyes are swimming with something he doesn't know how to define. It's sweet, warm, making him feel melted on the inside despite his uncertain exterior. As much as he hates being stared at, he isn't sure he wants the other man to look away. The ice cream was next to them, slowly melting in its container; at any point Rowan could remember and turn his attention away.

As if reading his mind, he doesn't. Instead he curls his knees up to his chest, gazing at him with all the affection in the world. It makes Saeran's mind wander, but for once, the thoughts are welcome. Being cared about like this… it makes him feel like maybe he isn't destined to die alone and unloved as he feared.

"Thank you," his visitor says, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll stay right here with you, as long as you'll have me."

"I will," Saeran manages. "You'll come around regardless."

"But do you mind?"

"...No." The corners of his lips twitch up into a weak smile. It's obvious he's unused to the expression, but he isn't thinking about how he might look strange. Around Rowan, his heart feels lighter.