Where Will You Be

“Two weeks,” Hakyeon had promised three days ago, sometime between wrestling a large dog bed into the apartment and then subsequently spending another twenty minutes making micro adjustments to its location by Wonshik’s radiator. “Two weeks, and then Jaehwan and I will be back. Trust me, you won’t even notice time going by.”

“I think it’d be a problem if I didn’t notice time passing,” Wonshik had retorted, carrying a huge box of doggie clothes and trying not to think about the duffle bag full of chew toys and squeaky things still sitting in the back of Hakyeon’s car. The counter was already half-buried under different types of dog food, the living room now officially ‘dog-proofed’ and temporarily taken over by various doggie cushions and blankets. There was even a mini-castle thing set up next to his keyboard; apparently that was a doggy favourite. Wonshik’s pretty sure the creature is spoiled rotten between Hakyeon and Jaehwan’s compulsive shopping habits.

“Two weeks,” Hakyeon said, patting him on the arm absent-mindedly. “You’ll love Biscuit, he’s a hit with everybody,” and then gestures to Wonshik’s meticulously-organized bookshelf of vintage records, “also, d’you mind if we move that? Jaehwan’s bringing over the rechargeable heat pad later...”

All that, and the dog hadn’t even arrived yet.

Wonshik wasn’t looking forwards to the next fourteen days.

+

With the dwindling days of autumn slowly giving way to the cooler temperatures of the upcoming winter, it is fast becoming apparent that fall’s last hurrah involved dumping every single leaf in existence onto the good earth. Wonshik usually doesn’t mind the mess, mostly because he isn’t required to sweep up a walkway in front of a house when he lives in a flat, but the problem is Biscuit’s enthusiasm for fallen leaves. Specifically, fallen leaves raked into a pile.

The tiny corgi’s love for dead sunlight receptors would be hilarious if Wonshik didn’t have to spend most of his time apologizing profusely to unamused individuals after the dog ruined their leaf piles, only to lose sight of the micro-sized bundle of excitement in another mountain of soggy, vaguely bad leaves.

Walks through the sleepy suburban neighbourhood beside his apartment complex is slowly becoming a bad idea, and he tells Jaehwan so the next time his friend texts him.

(220) Jaehwanie: o yea lmao biscuit loves leaves.

(741) Wonshik: y didn’t u tell me that beforehand??? what was that bs about ur dog being super well trained and didnt need a leash u filthy liar

He might feel bad about ragging on Biscuit like this, but Wonshik’s also pretty sure the dog is a lot more intelligent than his cute tongue-lolling expression lets on. His apartment is slowly being taken over and this dog knows it.

His phone buzzes again as he’s making scallion pancakes on the stove, drawing Wonshik away from a staring contest with said pet to open a different conversation.

(641) Hakyeonie: don’t call my significant other a filthy liar

Wonshik fires back: stop reading your significant other’s texts you nosy booger and opens Jaehwan’s next message.

(220) Jaehwanie: forgot it was gonna get cold back home; it’s thirty degrees daily here and the waves are spectacular

(741) Wonshik: bragging about your vacation perks is unbecoming and mean, Jaehwan

His phone pings again, with a message from a separate conversation again.

(641) Hakyeonie: my significant other is adorable and there is nothing unbecoming of him at all

(741) Wonshik: CAN U MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS

Biscuit is wagging his tail in excitement when Wonshik opens up a can of expensive meat and upends the entire thing into the dog bowl for lunch. There’s honestly only two things that really seem to make the dog perk— leaves and food. Otherwise, the corgi’s favourite pastime is to lie on any flat surface until he dozes off. Unsurprising, since he is Hakyeon and Jaehwan’s dog.

(220) Jaehwanie: u kno there’s a park like, five minutes away from ur building. u dont need to leash him in there there’s a fence

(741) Wonshik: what if he runs out of the entranceway?? im not chasing ur dog down the street his legs may be short but that thing sure can waddle

(220) Jaehwanie: LMAO WONSHIK chill he knows he has to behave in parks. he’s not gonna run out on u just bring a toy or something and he’ll be distracted for like half an hour

(741) Wonshik: ...that’s not a bad idea. ill do that tomorrow if the weather’s good

(220) Jaehwanie: dont forget to put a vest on biscuit!!

(741) Wonshik: k

There’s another buzz.

(641) Hakyeonie: my significant other always has good ideas, Wonshik

(741) Wonshik: sTOP

+

The park wasn’t a bad idea at all, since it wasn’t very busy during the day. People were at work and kids were stuck in school, so the only crowd loitering around are old people playing backgammon at the picnic tables under the trees and toddlers in strollers with their parents. There are a few joggers on the path as well, braving the diminishing temperatures in lightweight jackets and tights. Biscuit yapped around them and ran around in circles until he got dizzy, and then proceeded to amuse himself with the reeds by the waterside while Wonshik stood on the dock and shivered. He should’ve brought a warmer coat.

There’s something lovely and serene about the whole place, particularly when the city when it’s in a lull. It’s not quite the same as the stillness in the early hours of the morning when everybody is asleep, and Wonshik’s had his fair share of out-of-body experiences when he stumbles out of the party district in the dead of the night and is drunk off his ass in a silent neighbourhood illuminated by warm glow from street lamps.

The faint sounds of life in the backdrop with the crispness of the chilly air envelops him in a feeling that’s probably poetry-worthy. Wonshik closes his eyes and inhales, feeling the tugging on the retractable leash as Biscuit darts around. He smells freshly mowed grass, something clean that’s usually associated with water, and hears a soft panting sound somewhere behind him. It’s accompanied by the muffled patter of footsteps, a voice growing louder and louder, and— what?

Wonshik turns, and he sees a dog running right at him.

It is a big dog.

A big, big dog is running at him.

He drops Biscuit’s leash without meaning to; surprise overtakes him and he’s only vaguely aware of a man’s voice shouting look out! before Wonshik’s essentially tackled off his feet by the dog. He trips backwards with a sort of yelp and scream and the next thing he knows he’s knocked off the docks and into lake water.

It’s fucking freezing.

There’s a lot of water sloshing around him and Wonshik chokes when he surfaces, accidentally getting a mouthful. He hears Biscuit’s high-pitched yipping from above before a mass of wet fur and paws swims over to him and he’s got a faceful of that giant dog that knocked him over. The dog’s heavy black coat is soggy and straggly because of the water and there’s a large pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Intelligent black eyes meet Wonshik’s and then the dog’s mouth latches onto the collar of his jacket as the canine tries to tug him back to the shore.

Good god, the thing is trying to rescue him.

“Eva! Eva, let go!”

There’s a guy running up towards him, a leash dangling uselessly from the hand that isn’t holding a music player. He’s got a horrified expression on his face. Judging by his choice of attire— an ash-grey thermal sweater, black exercise pants and a pair of sleek running shoes— he’s one of those joggers that probably doesn’t let the fear of winter’s wrath stop him from his run. More surprising is the overlarge black glasses perched on his nose and the dyed, dark blue hair; the strands are sticking to the guy’s temple because of his sweat. He stumbles over to the edge of the dock, drops his music player onto the wood and flounders momentarily, staring at Wonshik in the water while Wonshik stares back up at him.

“Holy shit,” the guy starts. “I am so fucking sorry—”

And that’s when Biscuit rockets out of the reeds, barrels into the back of the jogger’s legs and sends the guy tumbling into the water as well.

+

“Nice place,” the jogger— Sanghyuk, Wonshik reminded himself, he’d do well to remember to guy’s name after what Biscuit did— says as they shuffled into Wonshik’s apartment. Water drips from the sleeves of Wonshik’s coat and from the ends of Sanghyuk’s hair as they shiver and feel their teeth clack together.

“T-thanks,” Wonshik answers, yanking off his shoes with a disgusting squelch. “Come on in, I’ll go grab some towels.”

Sanghyuk just nods in reply, following the motion with a quick sneeze that makes Biscuit bark and in turn sets off the giant dog, Eva.

Wonshik herds the corgi into the living room and lets Biscuit get comfortable on the heat pad before scouring the bathroom for towels. There’s a few small blue ones Hongbin made him buy (“These are socially presentable, Wonshik,”) and dug out a giant fluffy beach towel hidden in his closet. It’s the cleanest thing in there, mostly because Wonshik hasn’t been to a beach in years. When he returns, Sanghyuk’s standing barefoot in the entryway, still clutching Eva’s leash.

“Come in,” Wonshik stresses, gesturing the young man forward. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that. Here, towel.”

“Thank you,” Sanghyuk says, sheepish, and helpfully strips out of his jacket before he gets water everywhere. He’s only wearing a long-sleeved compression shirt underneath and if Wonshik wasn’t so distracted by Eva’s sniffing and general curiosity about a new place, he’d probably end up not-so-subtly eyeing the flex of Sanghyuk’s biceps or the broadness of his shoulders. Taekwoon’s the only one he’s ever known with shoulders that wide.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Sanghyuk asks, tilting his head towards the hallway.

“Yeah— sure, go ahead,” Wonshik says quickly. “I can grab you a change of clothes, I’m sure I have something that can fit you.”

“Oh, gee, you don’t have to,” Sanghyuk fumbles, but Wonshik’s already hurrying back into his room and unearthing everything inside of his closet that’s wearable. He finds an old shirt his sister got him and a pair of unused basketball shorts in his dresser, which are probably more likely to fit Sanghyuk than a pair of his sweats.

When he walks back into the living room, Sanghyuk’s managed to get his dog to sit. Biscuit is watching them from his lazy nap position on the head pad, tail thumping lethargically on the floor.

“Thanks so much,” Sanghyuk says, accepting the bundle of clothes with an awkward nod in Wonshik’s direction. “Eva knows she’s got to stay put until I get back, I promise she’ll behave herself here. If she barks, she just wants attention from me, don’t worry about it.”

“Sure thing,” Wonshik replies, managing to give the giant dog a pat on the head before Sanghyuk slips away to change. He momentarily considers waiting until his new houseguest returns before he gets changed, but the cling of cold, wet fabric against his legs and butt has bypassed uncomfortable and gone on to unacceptable, so Wonshik gives Biscuit a pointed stay before darting off into his room to tear off his disgustingly damp clothes as well.

He nearly collides into Sanghyuk as the man exits his bathroom, wearing the shorts comfortably and only stretching his shirt a bit. Wonshik steps to the right just as Sanghyuk dodges left, and for a second they’re stuck doing a weird impromptu dance until Sanghyuk bursts out laughing and lays a hand on Wonshik’s shoulder.

His palm is surprisingly warm, despite the frigid dive they’d just taken earlier.

“Sorry,” Sanghyuk grins, a mischievous gleam shining in his eye. Wonshik feels the awkward tension between them practically dissipate from the hall.

“I was thinking of making coffee,” he says, backing against the wall so Sanghyuk could squeeze past. “You want any?”

“I’d kill for a coffee,” Sanghyuk replies without hesitation, and Wonshik laughs.

“Bring the dogs over,” he offers. “I’m sure I can spare a bowl of kibble for her.”

Sanghyuk’s grin widens in response before he whistles for the pets. Eva comes charging down the hall a second later, closely followed by an excitable Biscuit. Wonshik nearly trips over the corgi as he hefts the large bag of kibble off the floor. There’s an old plastic container he could appropriate for Eva, and the dog is certainly not shy as she helps herself to the food afterwards.

Sanghyuk is leaning against the counter when he turns back around, silently watching the dogs eat as the pilp plip sounds from the coffee maker slowly comes to an end.

“So, new dog?”

“Well, sort of,” Wonshik hums, opening the cabinet for cups. He grabs his usual robot patterned mug, and after a moment’s deliberation he picks the neon green alien mug for Sanghyuk. The delighted grin he gets in response easily tells him it’s the right choice. “I’m dogsitting for my friends. They’re on vacation at a location closer to the equator.”

“Ah,” Sanghyuk nods sagely, holding out his mug as Wonshik pours the coffee in. “That’s why I haven’t seen you around before.”

“I’ll admit the park isn’t one of my known haunts,” Wonshik laughs. “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes please,” Sanghyuk says before he dumps in a liberal amount of sugar crystals and adds even more cream. Wonshik’s eyebrows go up when the cup fills to the brim and Sanghyuk pauses, grinning apologetically.

“Sorry, iced cappuccinos are my usual drinks... I can’t stand coffee otherwise.”

“Oh god, not you too,” Wonshik says without thinking, brain immediately swerving over to Taekwoon and his unbridled love for sickeningly sweet lattes. Sanghyuk laughs. “All that sugar’ll rot your teeth.”

“I contribute to the paycheques of all dentists in the city,” Sanghyuk answers solemnly, leaning over to take a slurp of coffee before either of them could spill it. They take the coffee to the kitchen table. Biscuit’s already eaten his fill so he’s sniffing around Sanghyuk’s bare feet as the man sits, making Sanghyuk snort at the ticklish sensations.

“So how long have you had Eva?” Wonshik asks, taking a sip of his own drink. He hadn’t expected to share a drink with a total stranger in his house today, but Sanghyuk’s both cute and good-natured, so it’s better than binge watching cooking shows all morning while Biscuit leaves dog hairs on the sofa.

“Three years now, I think,” Sanghyuk says, tracing a finger over the handle of his mug. “My sister got her when she was a puppy, but Eva grew so fast within the first few months that it became pretty obvious she wouldn’t fit in in my sister’s apartment. Her boyfriend’s place doesn’t allow pets and my parents didn’t want a dog, so naturally the honour was delegated to me.”

“She is a big dog,” Wonshik agrees readily, watching Eva’s tail bump into the corner of the fridge with each swish. “What breed?”

“Newfoundland,” Sanghyuk grins. “Natural swimmers, surprisingly good at keeping quiet when I have to make phone calls and basically giant cuddle machines. Do you like big dogs?”

“I think most big dogs happen to like me instead,” Wonshik laughs. “Small dogs tend to... bully me. Biscuit definitely does it, but that’s probably because Hakyeon won’t stop buying him toys. I don’t really do pets, but I don’t mind looking after them for a few weeks.”

“Hope your friend’s paying you well, then,” Sanghyuk jokes, lifting the mug to his lips. Wonshik rolls his eyes.

“They’ll probably bring me some shitty fridge magnet and pretend that’ll make up for all that poop retrieval I have to do.”

“All part of the job,” Sanghyuk says smoothly, and then they’re all distracted by Eva bounding over and nearly upending Wonshik’s shitty Ikea table with her nose.

To his surprise, Wonshik finds himself laughing throughout the morning.

+

He’s working in the office the next day when his phone buzzes, making his pen rattle across the desktop. Wonshik yawns and snatches his phone up, swiping the chat box open when he sees it’s Hakyeon texting him.

(641) Hakyeonie: how’s my adorable snuggly baby poo

(741) Wonshik: I rly hope ur referring to ur dog and not me

(641) Hakyeonie: for god’s sake Wonshik of course I was talking about my dog why would u ever think I’d address u like that

(741) Wonshik: you called me sweet bottoms that time u had too much tequila

(641) Hakyeonie: and it’s a moment I’ll regret long into the future, now give me an update on my Biscuit

(741) Wonshik: what is there even to update you on? he woke up, needed a walk, and then ate those canned monstrosities you left behind? do you need a play-by-play about how he chased his own tail this morning too??

(641) Hakyeonie: i would not be opposed to that

(741) Wonshik: i have a life outside of dog sitting u know

(641) Hakyeonie: hardly lmao anyway thanks for the update can u do me a favour and send me a pic of my dog jaehwan’s having withdrawals

(741) Wonshik: can’t, working in office. i can send u one later today

(641) Hakyeonie: YOU LEFT MY DOG ALONE WONSHIK HOW COULD YOU

(741) Wonshik: can u relax

(641) Hakyeonie: BISCUIT IS A VERY SOCIABLE CREATURE HE NEEDS LOTS OF LVOE AND ATTENTION

(741) Wonshik: and i need my paycheque too, bummer.

(641) Hakyeonie: i hate u

“Ahem.”

Hongbin’s slight cough in the cubicle beside his hardly stirs Wonshik from his heated texts with Hakyeon, but he does spare a second to give Hongbin the universal give me a minute gesture. He hears Hongbin huffing as he shoots off another message.

(741) Wonshik: now stop messaging me hongbin is giving me weird looks and i have to work, unlike some people

(641) Hakyeonie: jealousy is unattractive, wonshik

(741) Wonshik: kiss my ass

(641) Hakyeonie: yuk

His phone buzzes again, but it’s not another message from Hakyeon. Instead, Sanghyuk’s name pops up to the top of his text archives, and Wonshik’s heart leaps as he quickly opens the chat.

(902) Sanghyuk: hey

(902) Sanghyuk: did my laundry today and I have your clothes from last time. want to meet up and do an exchange?

Wonshik ponders his response for probably a moment too long before typing back, chewing on his lip.

(741) Wonshik: yeah for sure. we can find each other in the park again?

(902) Sanghyuk: sounds good! maybe not by the docks lol. there’s the hot dog cart by the children’s playground, how does that sound?

(741) Wonshik: great. see u then

(902) Sanghyuk: excellent, ttyl

“If you’re quite done,” Hongbin interrupts, prodding him in the side unexpectedly. Wonshik jumps and gives his friend an annoyed pout. “Do not look at me like that, Wonshik, you can’t be texting anybody important.”

“How would you know?” Wonshik asks, arching an eyebrow. Hongbin grins, showing all his teeth.

“Well, firstly, I’m not the one you’re messaging, so that’s proof enough.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Wonshik groans, and Hongbin looks immensely satisfied until the shit-eating grin drops off his face. Uh-oh. Wonshik doesn’t like that look.

“Unless you were messaging somebody important,” Hongbin says, narrowing his eyes. “Kim Wonshik, do you have a new texting buddy?”

“Go away,” Wonshik says at once, shifting his chair immediately to his left. It’s as good as an admission, so of course Hongbin doesn’t let up.

“You met someone! When! How! And where? Why wasn’t I present for this? All that time working from home, are you really just—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Wonshik splutters, blushing profusely. He’s eternally grateful that the open office is full of miscellaneous noise like telephones and photocopying machines and general chatter, so nobody is listening in on their conversation.

Hongbin squints at him even as he slaps a new pile of articles on Wonshik’s desk for copyediting. “You know, I’m starting to think this dog sitting thing might be a sham, too.”

“Oh yes, I totally made Hakyeon and Jaehwan go for a lovey-dovey vacation in the middle of print season just so I can hide behind the guise of dogsitting to go on dates,” Wonshik deadpans. “While I’m at it, I totally pulled some strings to make the two of them fall in love and start dating too so that they’d leave me with their dog eventually; that was all preparation for this plan that you’ve ultimately foiled.”

“You are so annoying when you’re being sarcastic,” Hongbin says, rolling his eyes. “Just get this shit down to Inguk before the end of the day, if you can spare some time for work in between all those steamy texts you’re sending.”

Wonshik resolutely ignores the smirk on Hongbin’s face as he spins around to his desk. “Do your homework, Lee.”

There’s another message waiting for him on his phone, but it’s not Sanghyuk or Hakyeon.

(220) Jaehwanie: wonshik pls send me a photo of my dog or im gonna be sad

(741) Wonshik: oh for christssake not u too

+

He was sort of worried he’d have to make up a new excuse to meet up with Sanghyuk once he got his clothes back, but it seemed like Sanghyuk had that part covered once Wonshik took the grocery bag of soft, clean clothes out of Sanghyuk’s hands (and it smelled wonderfully of fresh citrus detergent when he put it away afterwards). Instead of Wonshik fumbling through some excuse to stay, Sanghyuk had brought them both hot dogs and then suggested they take daily runs together in the park the next day.

Run being the operative word, of course.

“I think you’re trying to murder me,” Wonshik groans when he stumbles upon Sanghyuk, who’s graciously waiting for him beneath the shade of a poplar tree. Getting back into a daily habit of exercise always takes the life out of him; Wonshik had forgotten about the aching muscles and buckling knees that follows an attempt to drag himself back into a routine that involves physical movement.

“We’ve been at this for a week now,” Sanghyuk grins, slapping him on the back. “If I wanted to kill you I would’ve done it much earlier on in the game.”

“Unless this is a plan to lead me through a long, drawn-out death,” Wonshik pants, watching Biscuit wind the leash around his right leg. Even the dog is out to get him, damn it. “In which I believe your masterful plan is working spectacularly.”

“Running is good for building character,” Sanghyuk insists, bouncing cheerily on the balls of his feet. He looks perfectly amicable in his stupid, perfectly-coordinated running outfits and flashy running shoes; meanwhile, Wonshik had to dig out his old gym sweats and find a sweater warm enough to withstand the mid-morning chill. He hates feeling the cold and then hates feeling too warm once he works up a sweat.

“That sounds shady.”

“Wonshik,” Sanghyuk gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in mock horror. Eva barks and bumps her head into Sanghyuk’s hip, playful. “Are you saying I’m a shady person?”

“Well, you standing in the shade,” Wonshik jokes and Sanghyuk pulls off an eye roll so impressive it could give Hongbin a run for his money.

“I should sic Eva on you again.”

“You won’t get coffee this time around,” Wonshik warns, and that makes Sanghyuk laugh. He likes it when Sanghyuk laughs; the corners of his eyes crinkle and laugh lines appear on the sides of his face. It feels like genuine happiness and not like he’s laughing just to be polite.

“I don’t want your bitter coffee,” Sanghyuk replies, eyes dancing with amusement. “I want to get a sugar-loaded ice cap from Dynamite’s with a powdered jelly doughnut after this.”

“I think I know why you jog like crazy now,” Wonshik remarks, and then he and Biscuit has to take off on a sprint while Sanghyuk and Eva make a late start after him.

+

“You look happy,” is the first thing Taekwoon says to him after coming home from a week-long meeting at their sister branch.

“Are you saying I didn’t look happy before?” Wonshik asks at the same time Hongbin leaps out of his seat and says, “Yes! See! I’m not the only one who noticed it!”

“Noticed what,” Wonshik demands, whacking his friend on the butt with a rolled-up magazine. “It’s not like I’m expelling glitter and sparkles from my face right now. Maybe you guys just never appreciated my beauty.”

“No, but you do have a bit of a healthy glow,” Taekwoon answers, leaning over the top of his cubicle to peer into Wonshik’s face. “Weird.”

“I’m telling you,” Hongbin whispers between them, “Wonshik is definitely getting some— ow!”

“I am exercising,” Wonshik snaps, retracting his ruler as Hongbin collapsed into his chair, moaning about his ribs. “It’s a thing people do.”

“Hm. I was going to say you look like you went sunbathing,” Taekwoon hums, straightening. “Not that it’s a bad thing to have sex on a regular basis too.”

“Some people consider sex a form of exercise,” Hongbin adds.

“I am not having— why am I even having this conversation with you two?” Wonshik cries, throwing his hands up. “I have a dog that gets antsy when he’s cooped up in my apartment for more than four hours at a time. I have a park near my house. I go outside with said dog and do some running. That’s it!”

Some running with a cute guy and his giant Newfoundland companion, but that’s neither here nor there.

“You haven’t exercised since your sister said she was disappointed in your boring daily routine in college,” Hongbin snorts. “But whatever you say, Wonshikkie.”

“You are the worst deskmate I’ve ever had,” Wonshik replies, and the two of them end up in a rubber band fight that goes on until their editor (who is actually Hongbin’s older sister) comes out and tells them to knock it off.

+

“Did you friends name their dog Biscuit because he looks like a cookie?” Sanghyuk asks during a particular excursion in the busy downtown core. Wonshik raises his eyebrows.

“You think Biscuit looks like a cookie?”

“I’m just saying,” Sanghyuk grins, gesturing down at the corgi. Wonshik put a knitted plaid sweater on the dog today, because the temperatures dropped again and Hakyeon wouldn’t stop bothering him until Wonshik sent him photo evidence that his dog wasn’t cold. “The colour of his fur. Reminds me of a nice gingerbread cookie.”

“Hey, I didn’t choose it,” Wonshik snorts. “You can ask Hakyeon for yourself when he comes back.”

“I’m sure it’ll be an interesting conversation,” Sanghyuk muses, and then they paused by a lamppost because Eva was filled with the sudden desire to sniff everywhere around it.

“It’s not like you named your dog,” Wonshik muses, and Sanghyuk waggles his eyebrows at him. He’s got a rather endearing dorky side— one that’s a little more prominent today with his saggy red beanie, a Pacific Rim bomber jacket, and his usual glasses.

“Actually, I did. My sister let me.”

“Really?” Wonshik blinks in surprise. “Why Eva?”

Sanghyuk grins, two spots of red appearing on his cheekbones. “Well, Eva is actually short for something else.”

“Which is?” Wonshik prompts, and yup, Sanghyuk is definitely getting embarrassed. He winds Biscuit’s leash back so the corgi doesn’t bound headlong into a group of people walking down the sidewalk and waits for Sanghyuk to elaborate.

“Eva is short for Evangelion,” Sanghyuk finally says, laughing in a slightly depreciating manner as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “There you have it, I’m a big anime nerd. ‘Course, I didn’t tell my sister that when I named her dog.”

Wonshik’s heart swells unintentionally; Sanghyuk likes dogs and has cute nerd fashion and watches anime. He’s never been more thankful for Jaehwan’s never-ending obsession with animated Japanese films and the fact that nobody ever lasted long as Jaehwan’s friend if they didn’t have an initial appreciation of anime anyway.

“Get in the fucking robot, Biscuit,” Wonshik says instead, and he gets the wonderful satisfaction of watching Sanghyuk’s face light up with glee as Biscuit barks and barks around Wonshik’s ankle, trying to figure out why he’s been called upon.

+

(220) Jaehwanie: hey hey hey

(220) Jaehwanie: can u believe hakyeon and I will be home in less than two days

(220) Jaehwanie: times sure flies when ur having fun

(741) Wonshik: your dog demolished one of my slippers this morning

(220) Jaehwanie: i just want u to kno that hakyeon is dying laughing, and ill get u a new pair when i get back

(741) Wonshik: tell hakyeon i hope he chokes on his margarita

It’s actually a bit of a slow night— belated autumn rain and early evenings tend to make one lethargic. Biscuit is actually behaving himself, and Wonshik’s never managed to stay mad at those giant sad eyes anyway. The two of them are curled up on the sofa, watching a some music award show that’s happening tonight. His phone buzzes from time to time, welcoming new texts from his friends.

(641) Hakyeonie: stay salty honey

(741) Wonshik: i hate ur face

Biscuit yawns, tongue curling and showing his canines. Wonshik grins as he scratches the dog behind his ears. “I might actually miss you when you’re gone,” he hums, slumping down on the cushions.

There’s someone else he might miss when he won’t have Biscuit to take on morning jogs anymore, but Wonshik is trying very hard to keep those thoughts from his mind. It’s already rainy and dreary enough as it is outside, he doesn’t need melancholy on top of all that.

(220) Jaehwanie: we’ll see u soon, Wonshik

(741) Wonshik: yup

Biscuit nudges his hand with his head, perhaps demanding more ear scratches, but Wonshik has a sneaking suspicion that the dog’s trying to be comforting as well. Damn ball of fluff, trying to butter him up with his cuteness.

Sometime into the night, his phone vibrates again. This time, it’s Sanghyuk.

(902) Sanghyuk: can u believe they didn’t give justin beiber the best artist award of the year im fuming at this injustice

Wonshik grins.

(741) Wonshik: tell me about it

+

“It’s getting cold,” Sanghyuk hums, watching his breath puff up into the air. The ground is still damp from the rainfall last night, so the two of them have opted to stand on the pavement while their dogs run around the hill, chasing a bird that’s clearly too smart for the two of them. “It won’t be as much fun taking Eva out for walks anymore.”

“I’m almost free from walking duty too,” Wonshik admits. He jams his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. At Sanghyuk’s questioning look, he adds, “My friends— Biscuit’s owners— are coming back from their trip the day after tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Sanghyuk says, and he’s silent for a moment after that. “I keep forgetting he’s not actually your dog.”

“To be honest, me too,” Wonshik sighs. “I bitched my way through Hakyeon and Jaehwan moving all those dog toys in, but dog sitting wasn’t actually that bad. And if I hadn’t taken Biscuit out for a walk in the park that day, I wouldn’t have met you.” He shot Sanghyuk a grin, and was relieved to see the other man smile back.

“You also wouldn’t have gotten knocked into a freezing lake,” Sanghyuk points out cheekily, and Wonshik snorts unattractively with laughter.

“You got knocked in too. I think we’re fair.”

“You made me coffee afterwards,” Sanghyuk says. “And you loaned me your clothes.”

“I wasn’t going to let you actually freeze, you know,” Wonshik retorts, nudging the other with his elbow. Sanghyuk chuckles, nodding his head as he lets the banter drop. Silence fills the space between them again, slightly more awkward and loaded with a bit of tension. Wonshik chews on his lip and watches Biscuit try to run up a tree until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Do you want—”

“Even though—”

They both speak and then splutter to graceless stops. Wonshik feels the heat rush up to his cheeks and wonders why he was so cursed with the inability to make good conversations sometime.

“Sorry,” Sanghyuk says, blushing. “Go on.”

“No, you,” Wonshik replies, gesturing between them, and for a second Sanghyuk looks like he might deflect back to Wonshik. But then he straightens himself, fiddles with the edge of his sleeve and says, “Even though you won’t be taking care of Biscuit anymore, would you still come for walks with me and Eva?”

Wonshik sucks in a breath, hardly daring to believe those words as a bit of giddy joy rose in his chest. So Sanghyuk did enjoy his company.

“Yeah, for sure. I mean, it’s always good to exercise, right?”

Sanghyuk grins, but there’s that twinkle in his eye again. “Well, I was thinking of something more along the lines of a date.”

“A date,” Wonshik repeats, feeling a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He finds himself very disinclined to stop the massive grin spreading across his face right now.

“A date,” Sanghyuk confirms. He’s smiling too. “A date at a park with a giant furry Evangelion and maybe, possibly, if you’d like— coffee and lunch afterwards?”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” Wonshik beams. “I know a great noodle bar.”

“Can’t wait,” Sanghyuk laughs. “When do you want to do this?”

“Friday?” Wonshik offers. “I’ll have to help my friends more all of Biscuit’s stuff back to their apartment, but I’ll be free after that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sanghyuk nods, his voice warm, and they’re interrupted by a sharp bark. Eva skids across the grass and into Sanghyuk’s legs, panting around a giant stick in her mouth. Behind her, Biscuit running around in circles, barking excitedly up at Wonshik like he’s trying to say ‘stick! stick! big stick! play!’

“You know, I might end up asking my friends if I could occasionally take this silly corgi out for a walk sometime,” Wonshik muses, bending over to give the dog a pat.

“He’s grown on you, hasn’t he,” Sanghyuk says smugly.

“A miracle of the universe,” Wonshik shot back, and this time he doesn’t have to tuck his hands back into his pockets when he stands up again. That’s because Sanghyuk’s managed to snag one of his hands, easily folding Wonshik’s hand into a gentle hold with his palm.

“Ah, dogs,” Sanghyuk says cheerfully, launching the stick into the distance to the predictable sound of barks and yips of excitement. “Definitely a man’s best friend.”

+

Tonight was not a good night to be out and about.

Never mind that the weather was absolutely abysmal as it is, with the bucketloads of rainwater gushing down on them as they hurried into the little cottage by the riverside, but Taekwoon had caught a cold, of all things, and Hakyeon can already foresee just how much of a problem that could be.

Taekwoon has a very peculiar sense of smell. It’s saved his life more often than not; a fact that Hakyeon has brought up repeatedly as they packed their gear up for a house call tonight. No smell, no intuition. But he might as well have tried his luck coddling the little stone gremlin that sits at the corner of the local bakery— Taekwoon was more resilient to his nagging than he usually is (or maybe he just had a short temper tonight), and they’d trudged their way over to deal with a client. Hakyeon had grumbled the whole ride there, though the only one who heard him was probably Taekwoon and Jaehwan. Sanghyuk can pick up on his speech too, but only on days when his intuition is particularly sensitive.

The only thing anybody is sensitive to right now is probably the sheer amount of rainwater pouring onto them as they stumbled their way into the old couple’s cottage, where a skinny old lady stepped back to give them space with a lot of nose-wrinkling and tutting. A portly, older man stood quietly in the hall and watched them kick off their soggy boots and hang their drenched coats up on the hooks. Sanghyuk let out an almighty sneeze that nearly dislodged his obnoxiously large tortoise-shell glasses, and the lady shoots him a dirty look before they’re ushered into a cramped little lounge. A young couple is standing nervously by an ancient radiator that rattles like a mouse trapped in a button box, eyeing them as they walked past. Hakyeon sees Taekwoon sniff the air, but all he hears is the faint sounds of congestion and rolls his eyes, trying his hardest not to shout I told you so! to his companion.

Taekwoon seems to sense his disgruntlement anyway, and shoots Hakyeon one of his ‘I’ve got it under control’ looks before sitting down between Jaehwan and Sanghyuk on the tiny sofa, trying his best to fold his long legs up.

“Good evening,” Jaehwan begins, throwing the family a charming smile as he opens his notebook and pushes his hipster glasses up the bridge of his nose. “The Yang family, I presume?”

“Who else would we be?” the old lady snaps, and Hakyeon already doesn’t like her voice. “How careless of you lot to go around stumbling into people’s homes without knowing who they are.”

“Yet you opened the front door for us anyway,” Sanghyuk says cheerily, fiddling with the sleeves of his knitted sweater, and Taekwoon nudges him discreetly. The lady glares at him, and the old man coughs discreetly, touching his wife on the elbow. The lady huffs, and closes her eyes.

“Fix our house,” she says, sharp. “I’m sick of this ghost nonsense, or whatever it is my daughter-in-law claims it to be.”

“You’re the one who thinks there’s a ghost?” Jaehwan asks the woman, and she nods quickly, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“I know it,” she whispers, fear in her wide eyes as her gaze darts between Taekwoon, Jaehwan and Sanghyuk. “I can feel it.” Twice she passes over Hakyeon, leaning casually on the arm of the sofa, but fails to notice him entirely, and Hakyeon’s inclined to think that this whole ghost situation is starting to look a little fishy already.

Usually people that can sense a ghost will catch on to his existence in some ways, especially when his energy clashes quite strongly with the unsavoury types. But this girl didn’t even react— and furthermore, Hakyeon can’t really feel anything strange and Sanghyuk’s hidden tattoos aren’t itching up a storm, so that’s probably the more telling. Even if Taekwoon’s nose is out of commission, Sanghyuk’s tats aren’t affected by a common head cold.

“I’m gonna do a bit of exploring,” Hakyeon announces, giving Taekwoon’s shoulder a squeeze before he strides away, stepping over a truly hideous rug in the doorway before making his way into the other parts of the cottage. He can feel the air displacing around him as he walks, treading the odd space between existing and otherworldly. It’s a unique dimension that even supernatural creatures cannot carelessly traipse through; Hakyeon has what he has long since considered the greatest privilege of being Taekwoon’s imaginary friend-slash-guardian, and the bond that ties him to Taekwoon is what anchors him firmly in the free slivers between reality and the imaginary.

He hears a little meow by his ankles and looks down to see a pretty ginger cat circling his legs, sniffing curiously before turning fluidly and pattering away down the hall, lithe tail held jauntily-high. Hakyeon arches an eyebrow and follows, stepping into the darkness. A pet that doesn’t show signs of distress in a ‘haunted’ house? Suspicious.

“This story isn’t adding up,” he muses out loud to himself, and just as he turns the corner, he nearly walks into a house goblin. “Whoa!”

The tiny creature hisses at him, shooting Hakyeon a livid glare with blazing yellow eyes that shine vividly in the dark. The goblin’s paper-thin skin seems to glow eerily as it scrubs vigorously at what appears to be traces of footsteps on the ground— for a moment Hakyeon’s gut leaps, worried that there might actually be some kind of ghost they’d all failed to detect, but then the goblin smacks a dirty old rag into the print, and a little puff of powder rises from the floorboards.

The cat meows and scuttles over to stand next to him as Hakyeon crouches for a closer look. A delicate sniff, a prod of his fingers, and a little lick was more than enough to determine the outcome: talcum powder. He turns to the goblin, who is busy wiping down another print on the floor.

“Who put this here?” he asks out loud, and the goblin replies in a series of garbled grunts and hisses.

The answer is surprising, but not wholly unexpected.

Jaehwan is still busy scribbling down the young woman’s recollections of the haunting when Hakyeon bursts downstairs, drawing both Taekwoon and Sanghyuk’s attention. The old man looks curiously in Hakyeon’s direction when he sees Taekwoon and Sanghyuk’s heads turn in unison, but Hakyeon has already breezed by, unseen.

“I’ve already solved the case,” he announces at large, and Taekwoon twitches. Jaehwan’s writing falters momentarily, and Hakyeon grins. “I ran into a helpful little house goblin upstairs, who told me that the alleged ‘hauntings’ was actually the young wife and this old couple’s son’s attempts at scaring the two out of the house— apparently they’ve been making a mess around the cottage too, and faking these ghost incidents, which leaves a very annoyed goblin cleaning up after them both.”

Sanghyuk stifles a snort, and Taekwoon elbows him in the ribs, giving an almighty sniffle. He’s looking worse for wear already, with crumpled tissues hidden in his palm and red-rimmed eyes getting droopier by the minute. Hakyeon clucks his tongue and leans over the back of the sofa, brushing his hand against Taekwoon’s forehead.

“We should go,” he offers, wincing when he feels the burning heat against his palm. “You are definitely getting worse, Taekwoonie.”

Taekwoon nods, just a minute tip of his head, and he sits upright without warning, startling the woman into halting her story.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says, voice soft and rather nasally. “After sitting inside of your house for a period of time, I’m afraid I have to say that there’s nothing otherworldly I can feel in this location. I don’t believe my colleagues do either,” he adds, looking to both Jaehwan and Sanghyuk. They both shake their heads, and the old lady makes a loud tutting noise again. Taekwoon politely ignores her. 

“But—” the young woman says, stepping forwards with a look of distress on her face. Her husband catches her arm, and she looks back at him, eyebrow furrowed as he simply shakes his head.

“Maybe there’s a misunderstanding,” he offers meekly, and the old lady throws her hands up in the air.

“I’ll say!” she exclaims. “What is all this confusion about? Is there a ghost in this cottage or not?”

“There is nothing,” Taekwoon answers, straightforwards as always, and he offers the two couples a tired smile. “But I’m sure there’s other ways the uneasy feeling of being haunted can be... fabricated, let’s say, by an overactive imagination.”

Hakyeon has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Taekwoon looks pointedly at the young woman, who blanches so terribly Hakyeon thought she might faint. Her husband stiffens uncomfortably, staring slack-jawed at Taekwoon as they all pile out of the living room and out of the cottage, back into the deluge waiting for them outside. Sanghyuk scurries into the passenger’s seat with his large steps before they could even reach the car, shivering.

“God, the weather is ugly tonight.”

“Which is why I said we should’ve stayed in in the first place!” Hakyeon protests, and Taekwoon winces, rubbing at his temples as he slams the door shut behind him. The little light in the ceiling goes out, plunging them all into near-darkness.

“Yeah, yeah... we’re headed home now anyway.”

“Someone make him a lemon tea when we get back,” Hakyeon huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest as Jaehwan starts the car. “You are going to go right to bed and not get up until tomorrow morning, you hear?”

“Lemon tea, did you say?” Sanghyuk asks, peering into the rear view mirror, and this time he manages to make eye contact with Hakyeon. There are certain places they’ve managed to charm to make interacting with him easier— the car, the office and their flat, for example, host a jumble of complex little spells that weave in and out of the physical and imaginary structure of the world, giving Hakyeon little footholds he can connect to and reach out to the others. They might not be able to see him or touch him the way Taekwoon can (like Hakyeon is a real, living being), but they can at least catch a fuzzy glimpse of him in reflective surfaces or hear him talking. The glasses apparently help, and Jaehwan once likened the sound of Hakyeon speaking to hearing to someone talking through a really long toilet roll placed directly next to his ear.

The trip home was mostly uneventful, simply because it’s late and the rain is making them all melancholic, so Hakyeon lets the silence wash over them as he puts his arm around Taekwoon, rubbing soothing circles into his human’s shoulder and leaning their heads together as they bump their way across country roads back into the brilliantly lit city. It’s apparently a motion that’s always brought comfort to Taekwoon, which makes it one of Hakyeon’s favourite things to do by default.

When they make it back, Taekwoon all but staggers through the office and nearly trips over the threshold of their apartment, barely managing to catch himself on the umbrella stand with a weak grunt. Hakyeon yelps and fusses anxiously around him as Taekwoon straightens with a sigh, toeing his shoes off.

“Are you alright? You didn’t hurt anything, did you?”

“I’m fine, Hakyeon,” Taekwoon replies, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His skin is a sickly shade of green as Jaehwan helps him out of his damp coat. “I’ll go make tea and change and sleep, okay?”

“No, just go to bed,” Hakyeon interjects. “I’ll wake Hongbin.”

“Don’t wake Hongbin—”

“Too late,” another voice says from the end of the hall, and they all look over to see the fifth occupant of the flat and their last co-worker step out into the hall, yawning as he tucks his cardigan around him. “You guys took your time coming home.”

“Tell him to make you tea,” Hakyeon urges, but Taekwoon just waves him off and trudges past Hongbin towards his room. Hakyeon exhales sharply, crossing his arms again. Behind him, Sanghyuk snorts, side-stepping around.

“Taekwoon’s sick,” he says to Hongbin, who arches an eyebrow and looks behind him towards Taekwoon’s room. “Hakyeon wants you to make him tea.”

“Sure, but you can go bring it in,” Hongbin says, pushing his sleeves up his thin wrists. Delicate silver and onyx bracelets rattle as they fall into each other, glowing faintly beneath the warm light in the hall. “I won’t risk getting sick now, I have a test tomorrow morning.”

“Just tell him to hurry up with the tea!” Hakyeon interrupts impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looks between Sanghyuk and Hongbin. Hongbin is the only one in their group who simply cannot see or hear Hakyeon at all, despite all the charms and spells surrounding them, and generally relies on Hakyeon occasionally rearranging fridge magnets or writing on the condensation on the window to communicate with him. But in moments like these— when Taekwoon’s heath is at stake!— it’s faster to just make Sanghyuk or Jaehwan relay the message.

“He says to hurry up,” Sanghyuk snickers, and Hongbin makes a big show of rolling his eyes before walking into their kitchen. Hakyeon scowls at those who remain.

“See if I ever help you out when you lot ever get sick.”

“It’s not like you can do much anyway,” Jaehwan jokes, walking around him. “Besides, Taekwoon’s not gonna die, it’s just a little head cold. He gets one like, every time the weather makes a drastic change.”

“But his immune system is so weak,” Hakyeon protests, following Sanghyuk and Jaehwan into the kitchen. Hongbin is rummaging through the fruit basket, presumably looking for a lemon to cut up. “You should see him when he was younger, he had to miss school every other week during the winter! When he was in first grade, there was a time where he couldn’t leave his bed for three whole days!”

“Aw, poor six year old Taekwoonie,” Sanghyuk snorts. “It’s not like he’s a twenty-six year old man now or anything, eh?”

“This is no laughing matter,” Hakyeon grumbles, and Jaehwan finally takes pity on his poor soul.

“Okay, quit griping about Taekwoon’s apparent bad health in his youth, we all know he got better because, well, here he is now, chasing down ghosts and whatnot, so you can relax, okay? I’ll bring him his tea once Hongbin’s finished.”

“I got out of bed for this,” Hongbin tacks on helpfully, and Hakyeon sighs.

“Thank you, Lee Hongbin,” he says pointedly, and Sanghyuk turns to Hongbin.

“He says thank you, in that bitchy suburban mom tone.”

“You’re welcome, Hakyeon,” Hongbin replies with a good-natured huff, and sets a steaming mug full of tea down on the counter top for Jaehwan to take. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’m going back to bed.”

“Good luck with your test tomorrow,” Sanghyuk calls, already distracted by something on his phone as he munches on a bag of chips he’d pillaged from the cupboard. Hakyeon makes a mental note to tell Taekwoon someone needs to go shopping as Jaehwan picks the mug up.

“C’mon,” he says to Hakyeon, walking slowly out of the kitchen. “Let’s give Taekwoon his drink— Jesus, why does Hongbin always fill the mug to the brim?”

He gets a loud tut in response— but it’s all bark and no bite, and Jaehwan himself is grinning cheekily as he inches across the kitchen with maddening caution, watching steam rise from the mug. Hakyeon wants to push him.

“Hurry up,” he whines. “Taekwoon is waiting.”

Jaehwan shoots him a look. “Don’t rush me,” he warns. “You have no idea how hot this is.”

Hakyeon huffs, crossing his arms. “I have some idea,” he protests, but Jaehwan is right. Without a corporeal form, the only thing Hakyeon really does know about heat is how a kettle of boiling water once scalded Taekwoon’s hand when a spirit they were hunting knocked it off a stovetop. Everything around him is basically guesswork and definition by association, anyway.

He tries not to think about how often that bothers him.

Taekwoon’s room is dark when Jaehwan nudges the door open, whispering a name quietly into the dimness. Hakyeon slips inside, making a beeline for the bed, and to nobody’s surprise Taekwoon has already managed to burrow himself under the covers like some kind of mole.

“Taekwoon?” Hakyeon murmurs, touching the lump that might be the shoulder, and Taekwoon grumbles, shying away from the touch. “Taekwoon, get up, you should drink this.”

“Later,” Taekwoon’s voice garbles from under the covers, and Hakyeon sighs.

“I can leave it on the nightstand,” Jaehwan offers softly, managing to unearth a coaster from under a pile of unopened mail and printed emails stacked onto the small tabletop. “If he wakes up, or if you manage to dig him out of bed, he can get it himself.”

“Okay,” Hakyeon agrees, and Jaehwan gives him a little salute before he slips back out, footsteps padding lightly down the hall as he walks. Hakyeon frowns at the mounds on the bed and prods at the blanket a little more harshly.

“I told you we shouldn’t have gone out. You needed rest.”

The blanket wiggles and a moment later, Taekwoon’s head pops out. Even in the dark, Hakyeon can tell his eyes are red-rimmed and watery, and his nose is probably in the same condition.

“I don’t want the others to take a case alone,” he mutters, and Hakyeon crosses his arms, sitting firmly down on the edge of the bed.

“The others would’ve been fine. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk are smart enough to handle this, even if their common sense has a tendency to go down when they’re goofing off together.”

Taekwoon sounds like he might start laughing, but it’s interrupted by a hacking cough, followed by a tired groan. “Still. I’m older.”

“And sicker,” Hakyeon points out, watching Taekwoon push himself up on his elbows to reach for the mug. He can’t help but rub soft, soothing circles onto Taekwoon’s back as the man drinks the tea. He hopes it helps a little, and is pleased when Taekwoon finally sets the mug down and slides back under the covers, heaving a sigh. “Is it bad?” Hakyeon adds, unable to help himself.

Taekwoon shrugs, plumping a pillow so he could face Hakyeon. “It’s alright. Just feels like my head’s been stuffed up with cotton, or whatever. The back of my throat is kind of itchy too.”

Cotton. The softness of fabric, the puffy roundness of the white little balls from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, the swaying plants he’s seen in pictures. Hakyeon knows what it is, but at the same time, he doesn’t. He nods at Taekwoon’s description all the same, like he can relate.

Taekwoon’s eyes are already drifting shut, evidence of his exhaustion. Hakyeon smoothes his bangs back from a warm forehead, and offers Taekwoon a smile.

“Go sleep,” he nudges. “You need the rest.”

“Mmm,” Taekwoon mumbles, turning over. He squints at the pile of paper on the nightstand, momentarily sticking his hand out to trifle with it before selecting one of the printouts. “I was reading before you and Jaehwan came in... wake me if I’m not up by ten, will you? I wanted to go over this case with the others next.”

When Hakyeon nods in acknowledgement, Taekwoon finally slumps back down on his pillow, yawning widely. “You’ll be there tomorrow?” he adds belatedly, words slurring slightly, and Hakyeon inclines his head again, even when Taekwoon can’t see him anymore.

“Of course,” he says. “You know I will be.”

Taekwoon’s answer is a slightly congested snore, and Hakyeon slides off the mattress so he could scoot over to the head of Taekwoon’s bed, choosing to lean against the nightstand while he watches his human sleep. Taekwoon’s sleeping habits hadn’t changed in the slightest since he was little; he still like sleeping on his right side, still tucked a hand under his chin, and still got that funny little furrow in his brow until he was in deep sleep. He also liked asking Hakyeon if he’d be there tomorrow— a cute little question he used to inquire each night before he slept when he was younger. And Hakyeon would always answer, just like any imaginary friend would. Of course! Sure! Goodnight, Taekwoon.

There was one time, the night before seven year old Taekwoon’s family moved into their new house, that Hakyeon had prepared to say goodbye instead of saying yes. I might not be there, he’d whispered in the dark as a much younger Taekwoon drifted off to sleep. But don’t worry. You’ll do fine. I know it.

But with the events that transpired afterwards, it was the first and only time Hakyeon had ever failed to promise to see Taekwoon in the morning again.

+

Even though Taekwoon said to wake him at ten, Hakyeon deliberately lets him sleep until noon, choosing instead to watch the others slowly rouse themselves in the morning, with Hongbin headed off early in the day to do his exam. Hakyeon spills some rice and spells out ‘GOOD LUCK’, to which Hongbin responds with a slightly pained expression as he cleaned the rice up and tried to wave goodbye to Hakyeon (he faced the wrong direction) before leaving the flat. Sanghyuk walks in a little later, bleary eyed as he made noodles for himself and Jaehwan. He scratches absentmindedly at all the runes on his forearms as they slowly wake with him, and manages to chat with Hakyeon without his glasses.

Sometimes, when the others’ guards are still low in the morning, they’re able to perceive him better; it’s one of the small gaps between the here, there, then and now that Hakyeon slips through without reservations. Jaehwan joins them sometime later, his bedhead an incredible sight to behold, and they bustle and bump around in the kitchen until Taekwoon wakes up.

“You didn’t wake me,” he says at once, a slight accusation in his voice as he points at Hakyeon, but it’s mostly resignation. He knows what Hakyeon’s like when he’s worried.

“You’re welcome,” Hakyeon says smoothly, grinning. “You look a whole lot better after all that rest already.”

Taekwoon snorts, plodding over to the pot on the stove to inspect its contents. When he deems Sanghyuk’s noodles edible, he takes a bowl out of the cabinet and grabs a pair of chopsticks for himself.

“So, what’s on the schedule today?” Jaehwan asks, sliding his glasses onto his nose as Taekwoon joins the table with his food. The printout from yesterday is set on top of the morning’s paper, and everybody leans in to take a look.

“A request to banish a menacing spirit,” Sanghyuk reads, chin propped up on his hand. “From a college student, who’s renting out an attic in a cabin by the river.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Jaehwan comments. “Also, who lives in an attic nowadays?”

“You lived in your brother’s storage room for two months after you got evicted from your old place before,” Taekwoon says, and Sanghyuk laughs as Jaehwan shoots Taekwoon a glare.

“Why this case?” Hakyeon interrupts, eyes roaming over the address on the paper. “It sounds kinda vague.”

Taekwoon shrugs, hefting up a gigantic clump of noodles in his chopsticks. “Just a feeling,” he says, and Hakyeon sees Sanghyuk slanting him a curious look. There’s something Taekwoon’s not saying.

None of them pry, because whatever it is Taekwoon is bound to tell them sooner or later; he’s terrible at keeping secrets. But Hakyeon’s still got a weird feeling of anticipation in the pits of his stomach as they go about their daily business, waiting for Hongbin to return before they all head out.

+

“Holy shit,” Sanghyuk says, staring up at the cabin. “This place isn’t creepy, it’s hella freaky.”

“Creepy freaky,” Jaehwan chimes in, shivering as a cold gust of autumn air blows by. Hakyeon chews his lip as he watches the energy crackle around the house, hostile and sinister.

Hongbin rubs at his bracelets uncomfortably. “Do we have to go in?” he whispers, and Taekwoon nods as best he could when his neck is bundled up in a thickest scarf Hakyeon could find in the closet.

“I promised I’d help out.”

“Promised?” Hongbin echoes, giving Taekwoon a shrewd look. “This is starting to sound less and less like a job, Taekwoon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taekwoon asks, playing dumb, but they can all tell he’s bluffing. The redness at the tips of his ears has nothing to do with the cold.

“We don’t get personal with cases,” Hongbin points out. His voice is a little softer this time. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, but I just wanna know what we’re getting ourselves into, because I’m sure we all feel just how weird that house is. Sanghyuk’s practically rashing by now.”

“I am indeed,” Sanghyuk agrees solemnly, itching feverishly at his forearms.

“Taekwoon?” Hakyeon asks, touching Taekwoon’s elbow, and Taekwoon seems to deflate a little.

“The guy,” he mumbles. “He’s a friend of mine. From school.”

“A friend?” Jaehwan repeats in surprise.

“The guy from my six o’clock lecture,” Taekwoon says, jerking his chin towards the cabin. “You know, Wonshik?”

Hongbin nearly spits. “Wonshik? Y-you’re friends with Wonshik?”

“Yeah?” Taekwoon blinks, and Sanghyuk lets out a little snicker that turns into a grunt when Hongbin digs the heel into Sanghyuk’s foot. Hakyeon looks between them, confusion and a smidgen of frustration building in him. Who is Wonshik? Why is Hongbin so flustered? And who is he to Taekwoon, who’d tread the line of being so-called ‘personal’?

“Someone explain to me,” Hakyeon complains, trying to hit Jaehwan on the shoulder. “Why are we all suddenly getting all tense? Who’s Wonshik?”

“Hakyeon wants to know who Wonshik is,” Sanghyuk says, waggling his eyebrows, and Hongbin turns redder.

“He’s just Taekwoon’s classmate,” he says, maybe a little too loudly, because there’s a sudden chorus of chips as a few birds leave a nearby tree in a rush. They all freeze, watching the animals take flight, and the silence that follows is a little more serious.

“Well,” Jaehwan says slowly, glancing around cautiously. “You’re the one who said we should refer clients that we know to other ghost hunters to minimize risks. Are you sure we should take this case?”

“We should,” Taekwoon says firmly. “It’s just... a feeling. Let’s go and get it over with.”

Hakyeon glances at his friend, pouting and pushing down the doubts in his chest, but Taekwoon just gives him a reassuring look before wiping his nose. “C’mon, guys.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanghyuk hums. “We’re right behind you.”

“Oh my god,” Hongbin whispers, covering his face so that his voice is muffled. “I’m going inside Wonshik’s house. Or his attic. Why the heck does he live in an attic?”

“Don’t freak out,” Jaehwan says wisely, giving Hongbin a friendly nudge as they make it up to the porch, only to squawk as Hongbin punches him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, you’re definitely freaking out.”

“I’m not!” Hongbin hisses just as Taekwoon knocks, and the sounds of glass breaking echoes from inside.

“What was that?” Sanghyuk asks, frozen, and Taekwoon immediately hammers hard on the poor door.

“Wonshik? Wonshik, are you there?”

“I’m gonna go inside and check!” Hakyeon says hurriedly, and the words of caution are barely out of Taekwoon’s mouth before he’s phasing through the wall. It’s a little trick he can pull off every once in a while, but it always makes Hakyeon feel queasy. Walking through a whole bunch of animate objects, all of which are made up of their own particles and takes up their own space in existence just feels like it dispels him, a little.

Once again, it feels like he’s only managing to tread on the outside of all the planes of existence.

Shaking the fog from his mind, Hakyeon barely has time to register the inside of a dim living room, broken glass and spilled water on the floor before a blood curdling scream sounds from the other end of the room.

Hakyeon screams back, startled, and from the outside, Taekwoon’s pounding is joined by three other people.

“Hakyeon! What’s going on?”

“What’s happening in there?”

“Hakyeon, answer!”

The young man cowering in the doorway of the living room can’t be any older than Hongbin. He’s got a smattering of regular tattoos on his arms and shoulders, visible under the thin tank top he’s wearing, and Hakyeon can’t sense any magical traces on them. A normal guy, then. A normal guy who’s somehow managing to look straight at Hakyeon.

“Go away!” the man cries, holding his arms over his head. “D-don’t hurt me!”

“I’m not gonna!” Hakyeon cries, taking a stuttering breath. God, the air inside was heavy. “I’m a friend— a friend of Taekwoon’s— are you Wonshik? Can you see me?”

The why is bouncing around his brain, but he has a feeling it’s because of the weird energy trapped inside this cabin, more potent than ever.

The man’s terrified shaking finally lessens into little trembles, and he peers up at Hakyeon with watery eyes. “O-only a little,” he admits in a tiny voice. “You’re kinda— kinda h-hazy looking— wait, why are you transparent—”

“Good enough,” Hakyeon huffs, cutting Wonshik off before he could scare himself into a fit again. He clutched at his chest; if he had a physical heart, he was certain the organ would be beating out of his ribcage. “Go and get the door, we’re here to solve your ghost problem.”

Wonshik doesn’t answer; he scrambles over and unlocks the door with shaky hands, apparently deciding to follow Hakyeon’s instructions instead of questioning his state of existence. A moment later, Taekwoon, Sanghyuk, Hongbin and Jaehwan all spill inside with frenzied looks on their faces.

“Are you alright?” Taekwoon asks immediately, and Wonshik looks like he might sob with relief.

“I’m o-okay, the knocking just scared me— thank god you guys are here, I swear this house is gonna drive me insane.”

“What was the glass then?” Sanghyuk asks, looking around, and Wonshik glances back into the hall, sheepishly.

“Um. I dropped my mug when I startled.”

“Oh. Oops, our bad,” Sanghyuk says, scratching furiously at his wrists until Jaehwan grabs his hands to stop him.

“It’s alright,” Wonshik assures through chattering teeth, wringing his hands anxiously. “I’m just— well, just jumpy, like always.” His gaze slides over each of them, passing over Sanghyuk and Jaehwan until it settles on Hongbin. He looks surprised. “You’re.... you’re the guy who works at the front desk at the recreation centre on campus.”

“Uh,” Hongbin says articulately, blushing up to the roots of his hair, and Jaehwan grins.

“I’m sure you guys are gonna get along well,” he teases, somehow managing not to wilt under Hongbin’s laser glare, and Taekwoon clears his throat.

“I got your email,” he tells Wonshik, rubbing at his red nose. “We’re here to help you.”

“R-right,” Wonshik says, and his entire frame seems to droop with wariness. “It’s. Things are... getting worse.”

Hakyeon glances around the ground floor of the house, thrown into semi-darkness. There’s a chill in the air that’s obviously affecting the others, and even he can feel like there’s something crawling up his skin. The wind outside howls, and the house moans. Jaehwan pushes his glasses back up his nose, no longer smiling, and Hongbin rubs at his bracelets absent-mindedly.

“C’mon, let’s go upstairs and check the place out,” Taekwoon mutters, sharp eyes glancing around. His gaze lands on Hakyeon and Hakyeon immediately moves closer, seeing the way Wonshik’s eyes trail after his movement. He bites his lip, worry settling inside him.

“This way,” Wonshik says eventually, and they move towards the stairs.

+

It’s definitely the weird energy in the house that’s bringing Hakyeon into view.

Jaehwan and Sanghyuk proclaim that they can see him even better now, and Wonshik keeps cowering away from his ‘ghost-like’ form, and Taekwoon is squinting at him every once in a while, mumbling about disturbances in the air. Hongbin is still the only one who can’t see him, but the energy must be strong, because Hakyeon catches sight of Hongbin’s eyes trailing unconciously after him as he moves somewhere in the room.

Wonshik leads them up to his attic he’s renting out, explaining his housing situation as he goes.

“I’ve been living here ever since I moved out of residence a year ago. The place was perfectly normal before; it belongs to this old couple who only use it during the summer and they’re cool with me living here during the school year. But sometime during the spring, right before I went back home, I started noticing things.”

“Like what?” Jaehwan asks as the wooden stairs creak and moan under their combined weight. Wonshik shakes his head, cheeks pale and complexion awful.

“It seemed so... insignificant at first, but I then I noticed some of my things were being moved around. My notes, books, and food. Then the doors would start closing on their own, windows would open without meaning to, and I’d hear sounds from the piano downstairs, even when I was the only one in the house. It wasn’t ‘till all my cups and plates started breaking that I got worried.”

Sanghyuk lets out a low whistle when they arrive in Wonshik’s room. The curtains are pulled back, and the lamp is on, but even the sunlight coming in through the glass feels filtered and smothered. There’s a keyboard set up on the desk, some books lying stacked on the ground, and a rug is rolled up and pushed against the corner of the room. The strangest thing, though, is a large sheet draped over the vanity at the end of the room. An oppressive force seems to emit from it, poisonous and foul.

“What’s that?” Taekwoon asks, pointing, and Sanghyuk is scratching all the way up to his elbows now. Hakyeon shivers, rubbing his palms up and down his arms too.

“There’s a mirror there,” Wonshik whispers, shuddering. “It was the old couple’s— they store some of their stuff here— but ever since I came back to live here I’ve been seeing— things.”

“Things,” Taekwoon repeats, brushing his fingers along the edge of the sheet, and Wonshik yelps, leaping forwards to grab Taekwoon’s wrist. Everybody freezes.

“I saw— I keep seeing something behind me,” Wonshik chokes out. “A shadow, reflected in the glass. Sometimes there’s a face, but it never stays long enough for me to focus. It’s always in my peripherals. I hate seeing mirrors in this house because there’s always something there. That’s when I also started finding my books knocked over, things thrown about the room, and these dusty footprints left in the rug after each night. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I put all those things away.”

Taekwoon steps back from the mirror thoughtfully.

“I’m thinking,” he says, slowly. “Of a poltergeist.”

“A what?” Wonshik squeaks, and Hongbin clears his throat.

“It’s a type of ghost,” he explains, sounding shaken. “They’re usually the biggest troublemakers, because with them it’s less of a haunting than it is... deliberate mischief?”

“I’d say this one is more malicious,” Taekwoon mutters, and ignores Jaehwan’s curse.

“What’s gonna happen then?” Wonshik asks, unconciously grabbing Hongbin’s arm. Hongbin goes red, but he pats the other man’s hand in an awkwardly comforting manner.

“We should try and lure it out, at least,” Taekwoon says. Hakyeon flinches at the sound of that, feeling awfully displaced.

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” he says, before he can stop himself. Taekwoon looks his way, initially surprised, but then he offers a grim shake of his head.

“Best to get it done and over with. Can’t let it take root more than it’s already done in this house.”

“Still,” Hakyeon protests, and Taekwoon shoots him a wry smile.

“Relax, Hakyeon, it’ll be fine.”

“And those words have never backfired terribly in a ghost busting session before,” Jaehwan jokes, but he’s retrieving a pouch of rock salt from his bag anyway. They all fall into familiar action, quickly pushing furniture and books aside as they work. Hakyeon gets shepherded off to the side with a petrified Wonshik, and they watch as Jaehwan lines salt at the windows and at the bottom of the door and Hongbin pulls one of this bracelets off his wrist. He and Taekwoon carefully position it in front of the mirror, but it’s not until Sanghyuk stands over it, murmuring a trap incantation that the entire vanity rattles with a vicious bang.

“What was that?!” Wonshik chokes, hands flying up to cover his face, and Hakyeon shushes him quickly.

“Get under your desk,” he says, herding Wonshik towards his workspace. “Wait there.”

“Hongbin, get ready to pull the sheet off,” Taekwoon says, exuding an incredible picture of calm despite the rattling and shaking growing more intense. Sanghyuk’s whispers become faster and more urgent, and the tattoos on his arm are turning blacker, darker. Jaehwan stands by, a handful of salt in his palm, and Hakyeon moves forwards cautiously. The last time he’d dealt with a poltergeist was nearly nineteen years ago, and it hadn’t been pretty.

But he’d been successful, and he really wants this case to end the same way.

“Alright,” Hongbin mutters, grabbing a handful of cloth. “Let’s make this count, guys.”

Sanghyuk grunts, palms forcefully pressing against the shaking vanity, and Taekwoon’s eyes narrow.

“Now!” he shouts, and Hongbin rips the sheet off.

The vanity is a beautiful piece of work— old polished wood, decorated carvings lining the frame, and it’s got a very antique quality to it. Hakyeon personally wouldn’t mind its design, but at the moment it’s currently oozing black liquid from the edges of the mirror, and it looks awful.

Sanghyuk makes a noise of disgust, and Taekwoon inhales sharply just as the glass cracks, spiderwebbing right in the middle like an invisible fist had punched it, and a shadow looms into view from behind them.

Wonshik’s warning shout comes a second too late, and then Jaehwan is thrown across the room, yelping as he falls into an empty bookcase. Taekwon whirls around, throwing his scarf at the shadow. The runes on the cloth flash brilliantly for a moment, blocking the shape for a moment, but then the scart bursts into flames, turning into little flakes of ash that whirl aside as the poltergeist smashes into Hongbin next. Hongbin gets knocked into the laundry basket with a grunt, sprawling painfully onto his side.

The shadow whirls over the ceiling, down the wall, and accidentally treads on the salt at the doorway. There’s a vicious hissing noise and the salt suddenly cracks and pops, sounding like little fireworks going off. The walls rattles ominously as the poltergeist bounces off, spins through the air, and dives right at Taekwoon.

“Don’t you dare!” Hakeyon shouts, and leaps into its path.

He barely hears Taekwoon’s shout of alarm before he collides with the malicious spirit, and everything explodes into dust and confusion.

+

He didn’t know where the Jung family’s new house was at, but Hakyeon knew were Taekwoon was. He always did, given his responsibility over the young boy, and where Taekwoon was, the rest of the family would be.

He spends a portion of his time wandering through a recently vacated house— the house Taekwoon and his family used to live in before his father received a promotion at his job, and the entire household could move to a different city. He’s heard their family talking about it, sometimes sat in on those little chats too, if Taekwoon was present. The new house is half a day’s drive away, in the suburbs of a busier city, and Taekwoon and his sisters would attend a new school downtown. It’s got a good music and science program, which is what the children (Taekwoon in particular) liked.

Hakyeon smiles wistfully as he stares around the empty bedroom. He can still see the elaborate train track set Taekwoon had set up across the floor for most of his time as a five-year-old, excitedly constructing stories for the electronic trains with Hakyeon as they laid on the bellies to watch the little cars chug by. Next came the dinosaur obsession, and the room turned into a jungle where natural predators with sharp claws lurked in the shadows, behind the trees and chairs and in the blanket cave. Spaceships followed the great dinosaur escapades, and the ceiling became emblazoned with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars. They made a model of the solar system together, and Taekwoon’s mother helped them hang it up over his desk. When the window was open, the breeze would make the planets turn in lazy circles.

It had been a natural segue into the sciences, and once Taekwoon got his hands on books there had been no turning back. He checked out stacks of books from the library, piled his desk with video cassette tapes, and read to Hakyeon until the lure of the unknown became something Taekwoon fell in love with. Slowly, his attention turned to the next unread book, and Hakyeon would read over the boy’s shoulder silently instead, watching Taekwoon grow up.

There’s no rule that says he has to go if Taekwoon outgrew an imaginary child, but it’s always good to let children transition into a the next stage of their life. Hakyeon doesn’t age in this form; he only reflects the age of the child he’s with. He’ll grow as they do, and once they’re ready to walk on their own, he’ll find the next child to take care of. The Jung family’s move to a brand new house felt like a good time to let Taekwoon transition away from childish thoughts and move on with his life anyway.

But that doesn’t mean Hakyeon isn’t allowed to make one last visit to his favourite companion, just to make sure he’s settle in nicely. That’s why he’s roaming through the human world as night is falling, letting his internal compass (which is always pointed towards Taekwoon) guide his way. He lets everything blur by him until he arrives at an unfamiliar neighbourhood. The houses are a bit bigger, the driveways a little longer, but it lacks the familiarity that came with Taekwoon’s old house. Hakyeon frowns as he treks down the sidewalk, sniffing the air. There’s an energy here that he can’t quite place, but it makes something creep up his arms and prickle at the little hairs at the base of his neck. It doesn’t go away when he reaches Taekwoon’s new house— if anything, it grows stronger, much to Hakyeon’s alarm.

He stands at the end of the driveway, staring up at the darkened windows of the house. A cold wind blows by, and it howls down the street. The light from a streetlamp flickers pitifully, and Hakyeon bites his lip. He’s not sure if he should go in to check; maybe he’s just being paranoid? Maybe he’s just overly worried for Taekwoon, still caught up in his duties as an imaginary friend. Because no matter what, he’d promised he’d always be there for Taekwoon, to take care of and protect his best friend.

The feeling of something heavy and awful pressing down on his chest comes first, and then the alarming realization that something has gone horribly wrong.

The glass in the windows on the second floor suddenly breaks, raining down onto the pavement, and Hakyeon looks up in horror as a scream sounds from inside the house.

He bolts for the Jung’s household with only one thing on his mind.

“Taekwoon!”

+

There is a curious sensation at his fingertips when he comes to. It’s soft, thready, and slightly warm. Hakyeon turns his head, and to his surprise the same feeling meets his cheek. A quick assessment of his surroundings leads him to realize the same sensation is covering his chest and arms, all the way down his torso to his legs. He wiggles his bare toes, and there’s that same soft-thready-warm feeling again, and that’s when Hakyeon realizes what this is.

He can feel things.

His eyes flies open, and he almost yells when sunlight shines right into his eyes. Since when did the sun become so bright?!

“Hakyeon!”

Hakyeon’s breath catches in his throat and he turns over so fast he thinks his neck cricks; Taekwoon is sitting at the edge of a bed. His bed, Hakyeon realizes belatedly. Taekwoon’s bed, in Taekwoon’s room, with Taekwoon’s nightstand and Taekwoon’s mug sitting on top of it. The colours are a little odd, but a bit richer, sharper, and Hakyeon can’t say it’s a terrible view.

“How are you feeling?” Taekwoon asks urgently, touching his wrist, and Hakyeon nearly jerks his hand back in shock. Holy shit, he can feel Taekwoon’s touch.

“What’s going on?” he asks, voice shaking with shock. “What happened— where am I? Are we back home? What’s happened to me?”

“Easy,” Taekwoon soothes, and he carefully doesn’t touch Hakyeon again as Hakyeon slowly pushes himself upright on the bed. His palms are practically tingling with the sensations he can feel. “What do you remember?”

“The poltergeist,” Hakyeon blurts out, and Taekwoon grins, shaking his bangs out of his tired eyes. He looks like he’s barely slept. Had he been waiting for Hakyeon to wake up this whole time? “I jumped in front of it, and then...”

“You collided,” Taekwoon nods. “It was like someone set off an explosion. We got knocked aside, but it seems like the poltergeist’s energy couldn’t counter or corrupt yours, like it could with the various household objects in the cottage. From what we could see, you absorbed the malicious energy, purified it, and then... turned it into your own, in some way.”

“Whoa,” Hakyeon blinks. “I... I did not know I could do that?”

“Me neither,” Taekwoon admits. “But then again, nobody really knows how to categorize the powers of an imaginary friend anyway, but you’ve always existed in some kind of in-between, didn’t you? And you’re clearly stronger than you’ve let on, because you just sucked the damn thing dry and took its powers for your own.”

“I think it’s because I’ve faced one before,” Hakyeon whispers, and Taekwoon looks up to him with realization.

“Yeah,” Taekwoon says, a soft smile on his face. “And you won.”

“Of course I did,” Hakyeon huffs, running his fingers over the edge of the blanket. “You were in trouble. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”

His fingers brush up against Taekwoon’s, and both of them go still. Hakyeon bites his lip, staring down at their hands in awe, and then Taekwoon reaches over. He laces their fingers together slowly, letting Hakyeon take the feeling in, and once all five fingers are linked, he lets out a giddy breath.

“You’re— you’re here,” Taekwoon stammers, like he couldn’t believe it himself. “I can feel your hand.”

“So can I,” Hakyeon nods, tentative excitement coursing in his veins. “Do you think— does this mean—?”

“You’re human,” Taekwoon breathes, eyes wide. “You turned yourself into a human, brought existence into yourself, with the energy you took from the poltergeist you defeated.”

“Holy shit,” Hakyeon blurts out, and Taekwoon bursts into peels of laughter. They sit together, holding hands and laughing, until Hakyeon feels his lungs burn for air and the happiness rise in his chest. He thinks he might bubble up and float away.

“The others are gonna love this,” Taekwoon says, his excitement evident as he squeezes Hakyeon’s hand. “Hongbin almost passed out when you appeared, and when we realized you had a body— this is amazing. I’m so happy you’re awake and you’re— you’re still you. You’re still my best friend, and I love you.” Taekwoon stutters to the end of his confession with a blush, and Hakyeon’s breath hitches.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks without preamble, managing to shock Taekwoon’s cheeks grow even darker. “Is that— would that be— okay?”

“Oh my god,” Taekwoon says, and he’s no longer holding Hakyeon’s hand. Instead, he’s cupping Hakyeon’s cheeks, thumbs brushing against the curve of his cheekbones, and Hakyeon’s heart hammers away in his chest as they lean into each other. “Of course. Of course you can, Hakyeon.”

Hakyeon wastes no time pressing their lips together after that.

+

[Five Years Prior]

His name is Lee Hongbin, he’s only three years younger than Taekwoon, and the first thing he has to do after the boy’s father asked him to watch over his son is drag the kid’s drunk, giggly ass out of a house party off campus at two in the morning.

“Hongbin, is that your babysitter?” someone shouts from the doorway of the house, where disgustingly loud party music spills out and rattles the loose floorboards on the patio.

“Eh?” Hongbin says, swaying drunkenly on his feet. He slumps against Taekwoon’s side, dragging his feet into the pavement, and giggles nonsensically. “Who is this? Who... who... oh! Jung! Nah!” he hollers over his shoulder, surprisingly loud. Taekwoon winces and hoists the younger man back up against him, feeling his jacket bunch up on his side as Hongbin trips on his next step. “Just my ride home!”

“He’s hot!” someone else hollers at them, and Taekwoon’s frown turns further downwards when Hongbin laughs and hoots sound from the porch. “Have a good night, Lee, if you know what I mean!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongbin laughs, almost falling over his untied laces when Taekwoon tips him against the side of the car. He opens the back door and pushes Hongbin in, a little rougher than he’d intended, but it was the dead of night and he definitely didn’t want to be here. “Night, guuuys.”

His new charge must be popular, because there’s a chorus of replies as he slams the car door shut climbs into the driver’s seat. He grimaces when he has to fold his long legs up, and the annoyance only intensifies when Hongbin’s incapability of controlling his own limbs results in repeated kicks to the back of the driver’s seat as he gets comfortable.

“Is your seatbelt on?” Taekwoon asks, and Hongbin groans.

“Yeah,” he says, flicking at the stripe across his chest. “All set, cap’n.”

“I’m not your captain,” Taekwoon replies, irritated, and puts the car in drive as he pulls quickly away from the curb. The faster he gets his boss’ kid back to his own apartment, the sooner he can go back to sleep and not listen to the disgusting dubstep flooding out of the house.

Meanwhile, Hongbin has begun to amuse himself with opening and closing the automatic window, a huge, silly grin on his face each time he opens it wide enough to let the cool night air blast his bangs back. Taekwoon pinches the bridge of his nose as they pull up at an empty intersection, stopping for the red light. He considers locking the windows just so he doesn’t have to put up with the whir, whir each time Hongbin presses down on the button, but he doesn’t want to deal with any complaints. This is, technically, just his first night on the job.

“Hey,” Hongbin says suddenly, shifting forwards in his seat. He sticks his head out over the console and stares wonderingly up at Taekwoon. “You are Jung. What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the Daejeon penthouse?”

“What? Who did you think I was?” Taekwoon asks incredulously, and Hongbin shrugs indifferently.

“Well, I thought you looked like Jung, but I wasn’t a hundred percent sure since you were, I dunno, in another city? But now I do— there’s only one person in the world who has a frown like that.” Then he grins, giggly again, and Taekwoon can feel his temper mounting.

“You’d weren’t sure who I was but you still let me pull you out of the party and put you inside a car?” Taekwoon demands, unable to keep his anger in check. “What if I wasn’t one of your father’s employed bodyguards?”

Hongbin stares. “Okay, I wouldn’t have got into the car then, y’know.”

“And if the situation escalated?”

“What, I could’ve fought them off— oops, ah shit—”

There’s the sound of something hitting the carpeted floor of the car, then sloshing, and Hongbin’s grumbles. Taekwoon glances behind him and sees water all over the seat, and an empty bottle in Hongbin’s wet hand.

This is why you shouldn’t have drank so much, Taekwoon thinks, but he reigns himself in as the pedestrian light starts to flicker to the hand symbol. Taking a deep breath, he gives Hongbin the blandest look he could muster. “You have to be careful around you, Mister Lee. There are many more people who would like to see harm come from you, just because of your family.”

“I know that,” Hongbin replies, a little snappishly. That might’ve been because the whole side of his jeans were drenched. “I’m just saying— I did know it was you; I’m not an idiot, I haven’t gotten totally smashed yet. But I was just surprised because you came to find me tonight.”

“Yes,” Taekwoon grits out. “Because your father requested it of me.”

“Oh,” Hongbin says, eyebrows knitting together. “Wait, wasn’t... what’s his name? That Cho guy supposed to the one popping in every once in a while to check up on me?”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Taekwoon sighs, watching the red light fick to green. He switches pedals and presses down on the gas, urging the car smoothly forwards. “Cho won’t be coming in to check up on you anymore. Instead, I’ve been reassigned to move in and watch over you.”

“What?” Hongbin says, and the sudden change in his tone indicates that he was probably very much awake right now. If anything, the expression on his face was definitely wasn’t a happy one. “When did this happen? Why didn’t dad tell me?”

“He said he called,” Taekwoon shrugs, and Hongbin groans, flopping back against the seat with a deep frown on his face.

“God damn it,” he grits out, and chucks the plastic bottle into the side of the car door in annoyance. “Not again.”

:::

When Hongbin was eight, he fell out of a tree he was climbing and nearly broke his elbow.

As it stands, he was damn lucky he fell into the only patch of green grass underneath the wizened old tree instead of the rocky pathway literally two feet from where he’d kissed the lumpy earth. As a result, he only ended up with some terribly scraped-up palms and knees.

His grandmother tutted at him the whole time she washed his hands out from beneath an old-fashioned water pump, gently rubbing away the blood and dirt and sand stuck to the cuts while his older sisters watched from the deck and ate their ice cream cones.

“Oh, my poor baby,” the old woman chuckled when she placed the plasters all over the cuts. “You should’ve known better, silly duckling.”

Eight-year-old Hongbin sniffled, letting his grandmother wipe away his tears with stiff fingers. He couldn’t help but look back over at the oak tree, with its swaying leaves and low-hanging branches, and silently bemoan the fact that he’d only been a hair’s breadth away from grabbing onto one of the gnarly limbs. If he’d made it, he could’ve swung himself back up and landed on his feet rather his his hands.

“Hongbin,” his grandmother said, drawing Hongbin’s attention back to her. There was something akin to mischievous wisdom in her eyes, and he’ll never forget what she says afterwards. “If you’re going to try and become a bird, perhaps you should learn how to fly first.”

Sixteen years later, Hongbin still can’t fly— but he’s definitely found something that’s a close second.

+

The sun had just begun to peak over the rooftops at this hour, but sweat was already dripping down Hongbin’s chin, temples, and neck. The sleeves of his thick hoodie were pushed up, revealing forearms that tense with each pull and push he made as his body launched over a variety of objects scattered in the area: benches, flowerbeds, parked cars, railings.

Parallel to him and a little ways ahead, Wonshik is vaulting over a low wall, roughly four feet high, and his long legs arc through the air with practiced ease and powerful grace that Hongbin feels like he’s yet to achieve. But that’s alright, because his thighs are built and compacted with well-trained muscles after years of being a traceur, so he easily clears the entire block of concrete with a running jump.

The children’s park is empty and quiet, but so is the rest of the world at 6:45 in the god damn morning. Only things that fly are up and about at this time; birds, bees, and humans doing parkour.

The toys scattered around them is a perfect way to finish off the morning’s practice, since everything is nailed down and Hongbin won’t have to worry about something breaking on him as he uses it to anchor himself, like that rusted pipe he was swinging off of a few weeks back. The bruise he got had smarted for days.

He launches himself at the monkey bars and swing through a few before pulling himself up through the rungs, popping up on top like a piece of toast. The thin rubber soles of his runners are worn and soft with use, letting his feet flex and latch onto the plastic parts of the jungle gym with ease. It’s almost like he’s not wearing shoes, and it took a hell of a long time for him to fully break his runners into something this comfortable. The strings from his hood fly into his face as Hongbin swings left, right, and leaps across one platform onto a wall.

His feet smack into the flat, horizontal surface, and he pushes off, arching his back until he can bring his legs over his head and flip onto the ground. The squishy red rubber flooring actually sinks under the impact, and Hongbin lets out a breath of air as he steps back, satisfied with his landing.

The park is a nice place, full of little obstacles and objects for them to use, but Hongbin’s sights are set bigger than that. He’s tasted the sky so many times already, and the entire city is an urban playground.

Footsteps sound, and a moment later Wonshik leaps off one of the lower platforms and tucks into a smooth, tight roll. It looks great until he comes back up and momentum spurs him forwards, making him trip and run smack into the edge of the slide.

“Ow!”

“Watch it,” Hongbin laughs, doubling over as Wonshik stumbles to his feet like a newborn deer, rubbing his knees with a gigantic pout. “You shouldn’t have jumped that far, idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Wonshik groans, inspecting the bit of scraped skin before brushing it off. You don’t get far in the game if you’re squeamish over something a little as a skinned knee; blotchy bruises, swollen joints, rolled ankles and broken bones are all part of the packaged deal.

“Anyway, good run,” Hongbin says, striding over to the bench. There’s two unopened water bottles under the seat, right where they’d left it earlier on in the morning, and he tosses one to Wonshik. He catches it, and they take a moment to refresh themselves.

“Feels good to be back,” Wonshik sighs happily, giving Hongbin a lopsided grin as he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his mouth. “Not gonna lie, I’m feeling a little out of sorts after midterms. That modern architecture test was was brutal.”

“Can’t relate,” Hongbin says breezily, yanking his hoodie over his head. It’s drenched in his sweat, and he wrinkles his nose as he tugs his damp t-shirt back down. Looks like it’s gonna be laundry day today.

Wonshik scoffs playfully at him before leaning over and dumping the remainder of his water over his hair and shaking it out like a wet dog. “Yeah, okay, mister I-only-have-cumulative-end-of-year-exams. Since you’ve obviously been keeping up with practice and all, you should be totally okay meeting the crew, right?”

Hongbin doesn’t even bother disguising his groan, flopping over the cool metal of the park bench. “I knew you’d bring that up.”

“That’s cause you keep on bailing on me,” Wonshik complains, capping his empty bottle before lobbing it in the direction of the garbage bins. It sails in, unobstructed. “C’mon, I told you they’re all great people. Great traceurs as well. Nobody’s gonna rail on you for your technique. Which is perfectly fine, by the way. You’re a natural.”

“There’s no need to butter me up like that, cause I’m not going,” Hongbin says pointedly, and gets another eyeful of Wonshik’s sad-puppy pout. “What’s wrong with just going out and practicing on my own!”

“Nothing, other than it’s hella boring,” Wonshik replies, sweeping his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Me, myself, and a brick wall to bounce off. Not depressing at all.”

Hongbin flicks his bottle cap at Wonshik, who dodges it before ploughing on. “I’m being serious! You’d love some of the other routes those guys are familiar with too. It’s always nice to try something new, with new people.”

Hongbin squints at his friend as he bundles his hoodie under his arm. This has been a recurring discussion that he’d tried to stamp out a while back; when Wonshik met a bunch of local traceurs by coincidence one day, he’d made friends with them and now was adamant that Hongbin joined in. Which isn’t a bad thing, really, because Wonshik usually has a pretty good judge of character. But Hongbin feels so awkward around new people sometimes, and he honestly doesn’t know how he’ll hold up around them. He puffs out a breath and folds his sweater up in his arms.

“You just want to go and moon Taekwoon’s ass while he’s jumping,” Hongbin accuses, and feels wholly satisfied when Wonshik goes crimson and chokes on his own spit.

“I do not want to m-moon Taekwoon’s a-ass! Don’t be vulgar!”

“Wonshik, you are the worst liar I’ve ever met. You couldn’t even look me in the eye while you were saying that.”

“My pure, strictly innocent attraction to Taekwoon is not the only reason why I’m hanging out with them,” Wonshik sniffs, indignant, and Hongbin snickers to himself as the two of them head off towards the sidewalk, leaving the playground behind. The sun has risen higher, and the sounds of traffic is increasing as other people begin their day. “I’m not kidding, Kong, you’ll like hanging out with those guys. They’re fun and you’ll get used to them in no time. Also, Taekwoon broke his arm, like, ages ago, so he hasn’t been doing much. If you’re bored of them, you can just sit and chat him up, I’m sure he won’t mind the company.”

“I’ll tell him all your embarrassing middle school moments,” Hongbin vows, and gets a shove, a distressed groan, and more pouty wheedling. Fuck, it’s seriously too much for a Thursday morning. “Okay! Okay, fine. If I come hang out one time, will you stop giving me those ridiculous sad eyes?”

“You’re gonna come?!” Wonshik gasps, jaw dropping as he excitedly latches onto Hongbin’s arm. Hongbin grimaces as they come to their fork in the road, cursing himself for giving in after holding out for so long.

“Just this once. If I don’t like it, I’m out.”

“Next Monday at five, at Hurtsman Park, next to that giant statue of that bird smelling its own butt, you know the one. Don’t be late!” Wonshik says immediately, grinning and clapping him brightly on the back. “I’ll be there too!”

“You better be,” Hongbin warns, jabbing a finger at Wonshik, who’s already making a tactical retreat across the street before Hongbin could grab him, smile brighter than the sun. “Wonshik! Seriously, don’t let me go alone!”

The response he gets his a cheerful wave before his best friend is swallowed up by the sea of people swarming out of the subway entranceway, and he’s forced to hurry the other way before he’s crushed by the oncoming pedestrians. His watch blips at him, reminding him of the hour, and Hongbin quickens his pace back to his apartment.

Time to wash up, grab some cereal to go, and hopefully not have to scale up the side of the South Building to beat his professor to class.

+

Monday comes way faster than Hongbin would’ve liked, and in between an assignment on Friday and his part-time job over the weekend, he almost forgets his promise to Wonshik.

Fortunately, Wonshik is one of those friends that’ll never forget a birthday or a special date, and sends approximately seven messages to Hongbin at varying points in time on Monday to remind him of their meeting. Which leads to his grumbling his whole way out of his 4pm class, the whole subway ride across the city, and the entire trek up the trail behind a monstrous building in the Finance district to reach his destination. The park is a quiet area located on top of a hill and is only accessible through a shaded, winding path through a small forest, and it’s definitely somewhere that shouldn’t be frequented after dark. It’s okay during the day time, but Hongbin doesn’t have much of a reason to hang around this side of town, so it’s not a frequent haunt of his.

Besides, the place is called Hurtsman Park, and they’re here to do parkour. The irony doesn’t escape him.

The children’s playground is a lot smaller here, but there’s a lot of sculptures, walls, rails, and descending steps. It’s not a bad place for practice, Hongbin has to admit.

Wonshik isn’t here yet, and there’s only a few people milling about, but Hongbin can definitely see this is the group he’s meant to hang out with. There’s two guys at the base of the questionable bird statue, and one of them is sitting and fiddling with a set of speakers while the other is bouncing up and down like he’s got springs attached to the balls of his feet. They’re young, probably around Hongbin’s age, and as he hovers awkwardly at the entranceway of the park, he watches the one bouncing up and down do a sudden back flip, landing solidly on the soles of his feet with a whoop.

“So, d’you see the bird sniffing its own butt, or the dog trying to pee on a bush?”

Hongbin jumps a foot into the air, yelping as he whirls around. There’s a guy standing next to him, wearing a red sweater and baggy sweatpants, and he’s got a grin on his face. He looks young but he’s ridiculously tall, and Hongbin has to stare up at the him, utterly perplexed, until the guy nods towards the statue again.

“Well? Which one do you see?”

“The... bird?” Hongbin says, eyebrow twitching, and the guy clucks his tongue, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Seriously? All you people have no imagination. This bird-dog statue discourse isn’t over, but let’s touch on that later. Are you warmed up?”

“W-What?” Hongbin asks, and the guy jerks his head towards the two sitting at the base, already walking towards them.

“Sweatpants, loose shirt, short legs. You’re Wonshik’s friend, right? And you’re here to practice with us?”

“Yeah, I guess I am— wait, what do you mean, short legs?” Hongbin splutters indignantly, almost tripping over an unevenly paved part of the walkway as he hastens to follow. The guy laughs.

“Hey, that’s just how Wonshik described you! I’m Sanghyuk, by the way,” he adds, sticking a gigantic hand out for a shake. “I actually attend the college division on your university’s campus.”

“O-Oh, really?” Hongbin asks, dropping his bag onto the ground. He’s aware of the other two watching them now, and he wants to shy away from their looks. Meeting new people just wasn’t his thing, and he’s bound to say something awkward and embarrass himself later. “What do you study?”

“Korean literature,” Sanghyuk says cheerfully, chucking his bag against the bottom of the statue. “Anyway! This is Jaehwan, and that’s Taekwoon. They’re part of our crew.”

Jaehwan pumps his arm up and down, vigorously cheerful, but Taekwoon only offers a little wave. Which is understandable, because the entirety of his right arm is stuck in a white plaster cast, completely with what appears to be a bright pink sleeve fitted over top. Hongbin’s not even sure he can wrap his hand around all that.

“Wonshik’s friend, right?” Jaehwan beams, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “What did you say your name was?”

Belatedly, Hongbin realizes he didn’t introduce himself, and mentally groans.

“Hongbin,” he says, and is fortunately saved by the timely arrival of his said best friend.

“Wonshikkie!” Jaehwan shouts in greeting, waving so wildly Hongbin’s terrified the guy might throw his shoulder. But then he hears an unfamiliar voice shout, “What, no hello for me?!” and he realizes there’s someone else with Wonshik.

He turns to look, and Hongbin promptly loses his breath.

Wonshik is making his way up the path with his usual workout garb, but the man walking next to him is wearing some very neat, pressed slacks and has a silky, burgundy-coloured shirt tucked into the waistband of said fitting pants. He’s carrying a messenger bag on his side, bouncing across firm-looking thighs. His hair is cropped short, but there’s still a fringe that ruffles in the breeze, and Hongbin swears he can see a little halo of light reflect off the guy’s head. He seriously looks like he just walked out of a shampoo commercial.

“Oh, you’re here already!” Wonshik says brightly, running up to Hongbin. “Aw, I knew you’d keep our promise! I was half-expecting you to bail last minute.”

“Glad to see you have so much faith in me,” Hongbin deadpans, and his answer elicits a soft, amused laughed from the man next to Wonshik. Hongbin flushes, giving him a quick look, and is rewarded with the sight of two pretty eyes looking curiously at him.

“Your friend, Wonshik?”

“Did you not tell any of these people my name?” Hongbin demands, and Wonshik scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

“Uh, might’ve slipped my mind,” he says, and Hongbin rolls his eyes.

“It’s never too late for a formal introduction,” the man interrupts smoothly, and he holds out a hand for Hongbin. “I’m Hakyeon, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“H-Hongbin,” Hongbin replies weakly, and he has his hand grasped in an unexpectedly firm shake. For such a lithe, slender guy, Hakyeon had a hell of a grip.

“Hurry up and change!” Sanghyuk shouts, interrupting them. “We don’t have all evening.”

“Right you are,” Hakyeon laughs, and gives Hongbin a wink as he lets go. Hongbin swears his legs might’ve turned into jelly at that point. “See you guys in a few!”

“Don’t take too long, grandpa,” Sanghyuk says, and gets a swift kick to the butt as Hakyeon passes him. The tension coiled inside his stomach snaps, and Hongbin quickly looks away, busying himself with answering Wonshik’s question about his his day had been. He takes a gulp of water, and resolves to remain calm when Hakyeon returns dressed in a much more comfortable set of clothes. There’s no need to get worked up; he’s just met these people, for god’s sake.

“Alright,” Sanghyuk hums, scrolling through his phone. “I was thinking we could go down the trail and then branch off towards the parking garage next to that cluster of buildings, get warmed up, and then we can either stay there if you guys want or we can move onto the street. Thoughts?”

“Sounds good,” Jaehwan grins, cracking his knuckles. Wonshik nods his assent, and Taekwoon ignores them because he’s too busy playing with an old lady’s excitable chihuahua.

“You okay with that, Hongbin?” Hakyeon asks, and Hongbin jumps.

“Yeah, I’m cool with anything,” he says quickly, and Hakyeon pats his shoulder.

“We’ll take the lead,” he smiles, cheerful. “Don’t be afraid to yell if you need anything!”

“Okay,” Hongbin croaks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, and then they’re off.

+

Wonshik was right. These guys are good, and Hongbin isn’t feeling like he’s left behind.

Maybe it’s because their styles are all so diverse; there’s Jaehwan, feather-light on his feet and effortless in his motions, who enjoys singing at the top of his voice when they’re dashing through the streets, showing off some impressive lung capacity. Then there’s Sanghyuk, a former gymnast, who tumbles like he’s born for it and likes to throw in a few flips and kicks for giggles. His flexibility is nothing to sneeze at either. He already knows Wonshik’s style, which is always cautious of where his long legs go, but full of sharp, snappy power moves that take him from one side of a ramp to the other in a blink of an eye. Hongbin can’t stop the excitement from mounting within him as they go, thinking to himself these guys are amazing and I’m actually having fun—

And then he sees Hakyeon, and he feels his heart stutter each time.

Hakyeon is stunning.

Looking at him in the nice shirt and pants, Hongbin would’ve never guessed the amount of power Hakyeon had. But like the rest of them, he’d vault and climb, long fingers latching onto thin, cylindrical structures that he’d then use to launch himself forwards, never staying still for longer than a second. There’s a touch of softness in the moves that Hongbin hadn’t expected to see, but beneath that were tense muscles, coiled and ready to spring, and everything felt like one compressed packaged of carefully controlled moves. Hongbin had no doubt that Hakyeon only did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted it. It was a kind of graceful command over his body and surroundings, and Hongbin felt something akin to admiration by the time they’d cycled around the block and came back to the park.

He’s sweating and panting hard, muscles aching pleasantly and palms dusty and grimy. Taekwoon was feeding birds when they returned, and they all retrieved water and snacks from him to cool down.

“Hey man,” Jaehwan says, jumping over to Hongbin. He gets a companionable arm slung over his shoulder, and a wide grin. “You’re good! Wonshik really wasn’t exaggerating.”

“I’m not that good,” Hongbin protests, blushing, but he’s drowned out by Wonshik’s I told you so! and Sanghyuk’s laugh.

“You should come to the gym with us sometime too,” Jaehwan says, winking as he releases Hongbin, letting him grab his water bottle. “Wednesday night drop-ins at V Fitness!”

“Ah,” Hongbin says, blinking. “Uh, I’ll think about it?”

Jaehwan looks like he might start whining at him too, and thankfully, Sanghyuk swoops by to snatch one of Jaehwan’s gummy bears and roast his friend at the same time. “You know, you keep on inviting people to join in, but when will you actually show up and work out for real?”

Wonshik chokes on his drink and Hakyeon bursts out laughing, holding his sides, and Hongbin’s breath hitches in his throat. It’s a wonderful sound.

“How dare you,” Jaehwan thunders, throwing his towel at Sanghyuk. It lands on a very unamused Taekwoon instead. “Not all of us here can do thirty sit ups in under a minute, you walking beanpole!”

Hongbin snorts, and shrugs his sweater back on. The sun is starting to dip low into the buildings, casting a warm orange glow over the city, and they’ll have to disperse soon. He almost doesn’t want to leave; these guys are a great crowd to practice with.

“Well?” Wonshik asks, when they’re sitting together on the subway, watching the handles sway above them and brief flashes of lights zoom by in the tunnels. “What did you think? They’re cool, aren’t they?”

“They’re nice,” Hongbin admits, and Wonshik’s eyes light up.

“You’re gonna come back to the next meet up then, right?” he says, grinning and clinging onto Hongbin’s arm until Hongbin pinches his nose.

“Maybe,” he replies, stressing the word to drive his point home, and Wonshik squirms away from him, sticking his tongue out.

“Let me know if you want to come next time,” he says brightly. “The others like you already, I could tell.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hongbin hums, leaning back onto the deflated backing of the seat. He can’t stop thinking of the adrenaline rush and the elation he felt with five other people, all active and reaching for the stars like him, but most of all, he can’t stop thinking about a certain man who can don two completely different styles of living, and still pull each one flawlessly off.

He waves goodbye to Wonshik at their usual intersection, trudges home, and makes himself dinner. He does his homework, skims through the last chapter of the novel he has on his eReader, and finally hunkers down for bed, already tired at the thought of his 8am class tomorrow.

He stares at the ceiling for a fifteen minutes before letting out a long, exhausted groan of defeat. Hongbin grabs his phone from where it’s charging on his nightstand, opens his message folder, and searches up Wonshik’s name.

When is the next meet up?

+

He didn’t think he’d want to stay.

But three days later, this time on a Thursday evening before sunset, Hongbin finds himself back to where he’d started.

+

They spend some days in a single location at times, usually a quiet area in the industrial part of town, and spend their time polishing their moves. That’s usually when Wonshik gets all puppy-like with Taekwoon, trailing after the older man with such enthusiasm Hongbin’s sure he can see a tail wagging back and forth. And while it might look like Taekwoon is merely tolerating Wonshik’s presence, there’s also something endearing about the way Taekwoon lets Wonshik cling to him, then pats him on the head, and then scolds Wonshik for not eating enough before he comes to their meet-ups. It’s hilarious, and fascinating, to watch.

“How much do you wanna bet they’ll start dating soon?” Jaehwan whispers suddenly, like the conspiring sneak he is sometimes, and Hongbin exhales before he lowers himself from his handstand.

“I dunno, is that Taekwoon showing interest?”

Jaehwan waggles his eyebrows, and they watch as, with some of Sanghyuk’s cheeky probing, Taekwoon finally shows Wonshik a perfect aerial and is then the receiving end of a lot of gushing and praise. Hongbin laughs when he sees Taekwoon blushing at Wonshik’s honest admiration.

“Well. He risked his bum arm for Wonshik. I’d say there’s something there.”

“Wise words,” Jaehwan says, and then turns to Hongbin with a sly grin. “Anybody here catch your eye too, Kong?”

“Uh,” Hongbin fumbles, blanking out in shock, but Jaehwan saves him from stumbling over his own words when he elbows Hongbin.

“Are you like those notoriously picky types? Or do you prefer someone who doesn’t have a breakneck hobby like ours? Or... someone cute and adorable like me?” he adds, batting his eyelashes, and Hongbin splutters, shoving Jaehwan in the shoulder in amusement.

“No,” he snorts, ignoring Jaehwan’s exaggerated pout. “Just... anyone who’s nice, really.”

“Boooring,” Jaehwan proclaims, rolling his eyes. “Live a little! Date an alligator wrestler, or something.”

“I fail to see how that’s not more high-risk than what we do for fun.”

“Touché.”

“Hey!”

They both turn, and Sanghyuk is staring at them, hands on his hips. “Quit yabbering and come over. Hakyeon is gonna do a jump.”

“I am not,” Hakyeon shouts back as he lowers his water bottle, but he’s interrupted by Jaehwan’s excited yell.

“Is he really? You gotta watch, Kong, Hakyeon is, like, the god of long jumps.”

“I am not,” Hakyeon complains, actually looking shy. “Don’t give him the wrong idea, Jaehwan.”

“I’d... like to see it,” Hongbin admits, rubbing his arm and hoping it’ll dispel his own internal anxiety of appearing too eager. 

“Oh my god, really? I haven’t actually done it in forever,” Hakeyon laughs, but there’s something a little reserved in the way he does it. It looks like he’s a little nervous, almost, and he’s picking at the new callouses on his hand. It’s a habit that Hongbin has, embarrassingly enough, also managed to pick up after staring at Hakyeon for too long.

“No time like the present then,” Jaehwan grins, and gets a smack upside the head. “We should do it like the old times; Minhyuk was always the one Hakyeon did his jump over. It was like a circus act.”

“Nobody’s gonna volunteer to lie down for me,” Hakyeon scoffs, smoothing the sleeves of his shirt down.

“What about Taekwoon?” Jaehwan asks, nodding towards Taekwoon’s form, now reclining lazily on the lawn next to a stretching Wonshik. “He’s just lying around anyway.”

Hakyeon frowns. “You want me to jump over a guy with a broken arm? He’ll kill me.”

Jaehwan laughs, and Hongbin joins in too, until Sanghyuk turns to him with the devil’s gleam in his eye and says, “How about Hongbin then?”

Hongbin’s mouth snaps shut, flushing fiercely. “Uh-uh. No way.”

“Oh, shush, you’ll be fine! Besides, you have cute short legs,” Jaehwan says brightly, apparently agreeing with the idea, because the next thing Hongbin knows he’s being manhandled with surprising strength into lying down on the bumpy concrete floor beneath a short ledge, with all his protests and grumbles ignored. But then again, it’s also possible that Jaehwan already knows Hongbin will give in, because let’s face it, he can be such a pushover when it comes to Hakyeon sometimes.

“Fine, fine,” he grunts eventually, wiggling until he finds a slightly more comfortable spot on the ground. The back of his head aches already, so he lifts his arms, laces his fingers together and pillows his head on the flat of his palms, squinting up at Hakyeon while the breeze lifts the hem of his shirt. “Please don’t break my arm either.”

Hakyeon doesn’t respond immediately— for a moment, he just stands and stares down at Hongbin, something unreadable on his normally cheerful face. He doesn’t look upset, but all he does is look down at Hongbin with the most peculiar expression until Jaehwan whistles and Hakyeon shakes himself out of his stupor.

“You won’t get out of your training regime that easily,” he replies, grinning, and Hongbin smirks even as he wonders what that was all about.

“Damn, foiled again.”

Hakyeon snorts, the sound surprisingly cute and sudden, but before Hongbin could say anything else he’s already disappeared from sight. For a moment, all he can do is lie still and pray internally that Hakyeon can still make the leap. Not that Hongbin doubts it, really, he’s fallen so hard by now Hakyeon could walk in wearing socks with Crocs and he’ll believe the man was pioneering a new fashion trend.

There’s some hollering, the sound of pounding footsteps, and then a figure launches into view.

Hongbin tilts his head back a little, watching, and his breath gets stuck in his throat as Hakyeon soars overhead.

His knees tuck in to his chest, his arms spread slightly out to help balance, and Hongbin’s mouth goes dry as he watches the thin silver bracelet on Hakyeon’s wrist glitter in the sunlight as the man rotates through the air. He shows off a neat, clean, and high arc above Hongbin’s body, and lands back down onto the concrete with more than enough space to spare. There’s a few whoops and claps, and Hakyeon does a mock bow while Hongbin struggles to push himself back up, head still spinning at the image of Hakyeon flying above him.

God damn, that had been a sight.

“You okay?”

Hongbin looks up, and swallows around a scratchy throat as Hakyeon extends a hand to him. He takes it, and lets Hakyeon haul him to his feet.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

He’s more than okay.

+

That night, he wakes up without warning, and in his confusion the residual images of Hakyeon leaping over him burn into the recess of his mind. He feels his face heat up when he wonders if he’s dreaming about Hakyeon of all things, and sighs before he turns over and tries to fall back asleep.

Except, his brain then decides it’s a good idea to turn it into slow motion and put it on repeat, so Hongbin can lie back down and watch the image of Hakyeon’s perfect form and elegant jump again, and again, and again.

+

He likes Hakyeon.

There wasn’t even a soul-shattering kind of revelation for him to cling to, or pinpoint as a turning moment. All Hongbin can think of is weeks of seeing each other, sharing water bottles and joking around, taking breaks on the bumpy curb and watching the others practice their moves in hypnotic, repetitive motions at a certain spot they’re camped out at for the day. They vented about school and work, argued about which Alien film is the best, and played the most intense game of ‘the floor is lava’ Hongbin has ever seen. It was a feeling that sort of blanketed over Hongbin, and anything from a smile to Hakyeon to seeing him take a running leap at the wall and haul himself right over the top light he weighed nothing— it was everything, and Hongbin thinks he might be drowning a little.

+

It’s a particularly hot day today, sort of like a combination of summer’s last hurrah and a dying fuck you before fall season took over, and Hongbin feels absolutely disgusting. It’s muggy, the air is thick and heavy, making the lightweight fabric of his pants cling to his shins and his shirt stick to his chest. They’re all sweating, even in the shade, as they warm up and prepare for the day’s run. Sanghyuk douses an entire bottle of water over his head, picking up Wonshik’s terrible habits as usual, and just when they’re about to head off—

“Ah, wait, gimmie a second,” Hakyeon calls from the back, and when Hongbin turns around he almost falls off the wall he’s standing on because Hakyeon has just pulled off his hoodie, and underneath it he’s wearing a crop top.

An honest to god, midriff-baring, tiny piece of black material. It’s short-sleeved and floaty around the middle and Hongbin is a hundred percent sure that once Hakyeon starts vaulting and tumbling, that little thing is going to fly up and Hakyeon might as well be shirtless.

“Let’s goooo,” Sanghyuk boos, and Hakyeon actually gives the younger man the finger as he pulls himself up onto the wall, right next to Hongbin. Skin, there’s so much flawless skin on display. Hongbin’s brain is sounding all the alarms, and when he notices Sanghyuk giving him a curious look, he tries to school his expression into something calmer. He’s not sure if he succeeds.

“Ready?” Hakyeon asks, shooting Hongbin a roguish smirk as he raises his arms over his head, stretching, and Hongbin nearly passes out on the spot. Who is this Hakyeon, and why is he like this? Is this what happens when Hakyeon lets loose on the weekends?

Hongbin gulps, nods because he’s certain his voice would crack embarrassingly, and tries desperately not to let that heat sink any lower in his body. Fuck, think of anything else other than the smooth line of Hakyeon’s hip— the mystery meat in the cafeteria, the mould growing in Wonshik’s bathtub, the people he sees finish using the bathroom in the subway and don’t wash their hands—

He’s finally jolted out of his unnoticed internal conflicts when Jaehwan lets out an excited whoop and leaps off the wall, going for the rails a few feet down, and is literally hopping towards the next set the moment his feet touch down, full of pent-up energy and ready to release it on an unsuspecting world.

Normally, he’d follow near the end of the pack, mostly because he’s not as familiar with the area and because he likes a bit of breathing space, but this time, Hongbin launches himself right after Jaehwan, clearing the railings with ease and immediately going for a pop vault at the next wall.

If he has to stare at the bare skin above Hakyeon’s waistband, or watch the flex of his abdominal muscles with the glistening sweat as he lifts his feet over the obstacles, Hongbin is certain he’s going to crash right into the concrete instead of climbing over it.

+

He wakes again.

The fan is on, the window is open, and even then the early summer heat still clings to the nape of his neck. Hongbin rolls over, groaning quietly, and tries not to think about how this feeling is very much like the one he gets whenever Hakyeon stands too close, or smiles his way, or adds a cheeky little pirouette once he lands a jump.

His traitorous brain swerves back to the crop top from the afternoon, and Hongbin flushes horribly even though there’s nobody in the room but himself. He sort of wants to leap into a river and just sink to the bottom, and what is it with Hakyeon that messes with him so bad?

He thinks about Sanghyuk’s lifted eyebrows, Wonshik’s harmless comment of you’re really getting along with Hakyeon, aren’tcha? without knowing just how true the statement is.

Hongbin buries his face into his pillow, and resists the urge to yell into it.

Oh, he’s hopeless.

+

Sanghyuk proudly announces that he’s landed an internship position at one of their meet ups about a week ago, and they’d all tackled the boy down, giving him noogies and clapping him on the back in congratulations till they all tipped over onto the lawn. Then, Hakyeon had proposed they all have dinner together, to celebrate, and nobody objected.

It took a bit of wrangling, but they finally managed to settle on a proper day, and Wonshik mentioned a sushi place his cousin worked at, so they all piled into the little restaurant sandwiched between a barber shop and a music store that rainy night, ordering as much as their bellies could hold and even more liquor to go around.

Hongbin laughs, eats, and drinks, and for once he doesn’t feel so tense around people. Maybe it’s because he’s gotten to know these guys so well now, or maybe it’s just because they’re all so infectious with their happiness, but he feels warm.

It feels like belonging.

Hakyeon’s hand lands on his thigh at one point, when they were trying to coerce a stubborn Taekwoon into joining their wasabi roulette challenge, and Hakyeon had given him a weak little grin, patting his leg good-naturally.

“My bad,” he’d said, colour high on his cheeks because of the alcohol, and Hongbin grins back, warmth in his chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, choosing to pour Hakyeon a bit more sake instead, and Hakyeon grins at him before tossing everything back.

His hand didn’t leave Hongbin’s thigh for the rest of the night, and Hongbin really, really didn’t mind it at all.

The rain hadn’t let up yet by the time the left, stumbling out into the cool night air, and Hongbin wrinkles his nose when the droplets splash onto his nose. Wonshik is accompanying Taekwoon home, and Jaehwan and Sanghyuk are taking a cab together because they live further away. Hongbin contemplates getting a cab too, but his empty wallet is laughing at him from his back pocket, so he sighs and smoothes his jacket down his front.

“How’re you getting home?” Hakyeon asks, moving to stand next to him on the front steps of the restaurant. Hongbin tips his head into the watery darkness.

“I’ll walk. I don’t live very far.”

“By yourself?” Hakyeon asks, raising an eyebrow. “In this weather?”

“My apartment is less than half and hour away.”

“But it’s raining!”

“I’m waterproof,” Hongbin jokes, but Hakyeon is shaking his head adamantly, puffing his chest up like a little bird. He looks adorable.

“I’ve got an umbrella. I’ll take you home.”

“What? No way man, you live the other way.”

“It’s okay,” Hakyeon says cheerfully, opening up the umbrella between them. It’s a soft, pastel pink and there’s a little bit of gold thread stitched into the fabric. “I can walk you back.”

“You don’t have to,” Hongbin argues, neck and face burning, because it means standing under an umbrella with Hakyeon, and good god, if the rain hit his face it might actually turn into steam because of how warm his cheeks are.

“Nonsense,” Hakyeon insists, and he loops his arm through Hongbin’s tugging him away from the illuminated doorway of the sushi shop. “Let’s go!”

“I live in the opposite direction! And it’s raining like crazy!” Hongbin protests, but it sounds a little weak to his ears too.

“I’ll still have the umbrella when I go home. This is fine,” Hakyeon smiles, but just as Hongbin opens his mouth again, wanting to give one last attempt at raising his defences, so he at least say he tried, Hakyeon holds a finger, expression firm but kind. “Please. Let me do this.”

Hongbin opens his mouth, and closes it.

The metaphorical white flag flies.

Hakyeon is smiling. “Let’s get you home, pretty boy,” he teases, and they depart without further ado.

It’s actually really nice being around Hakyeon. Hongbin’s come to realize this in the past few weeks they’ve spent together, milling in and out of various parks and deserted locations all over the city. It’s nice seeing Hakyeon show up in his work outfit, only to strip down to slim joggers, ratty old tees and neon runners, sometimes with a beanie mashed onto his head or with a flappy sweater tossed over his shoulders.

It’s also nice chasing after Hakyeon while they leap and bound into the air, undaunted. There’s a thrill that shoots through him each time he sees Hakyeon vault over a wall, or twirl himself around a stop sign like he’s not supporting the entirety of his weight on just his arms. Hakyeon is constantly in motion, and even when it looks like there’s nowhere left to go, he’ll manage to squeeze one last flip in before landing with flourish, eyes crinkled and smile dazzling. He makes Hongbin want to run faster, jump higher, and reach further. That feeling— it’s wonderful.

They walk and talk and have no troubles hopping over the enormous puddles forming in the uneven, cracked pavement. Hakyeon even does a wonderful little rendition of ‘Singing in the Rain’, his English smooth and his voice warm, until his dancing takes the umbrella too far and Hongbin sneezes.

Hakyeon doesn’t stray far after that.

He’s almost regretful when they reach his building, because they’re not scheduled to meet up until Thursday the earliest. Taekwoon is going to the doctor’s for a check up and hopefully get his cast off, Sanghyuk has a project due, and Jaehwan picked up an extra shift at the café. So, they’re all busy.

“Thanks for walking me back,” Hongbin says, grinning when Hakyeon nudges him amicably.

“No problem. There’s no downsides for me tonight; I got my drinks and I love the rain and I had the company of a pretty boy for twenty minutes. I daresay it’s been a pretty chill night.”

Hongbin chokes back a sound, and the words tumble out before he could stop himself: “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Hakyeon pauses, eyes wide, and Hongbin bites his tongue. Damn it, damn it damn it damn it—

“Yeah,” Hakyeon says, and his voice is a little quieter. “Yeah, I do.”

Oh.

Hongbin thinks his cheeks are red again. “Um, thanks,” he offers, trying to sound upbeat, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when Hakyeon’s looking at him like that.

“I think you’re more than just pretty, to be honest,” he says, soft. His eyes meet Hongbin’s, and Hakyeon doesn’t look away. “I think you’re funny, and your deadpan humour is hilarious. Even when you argue with me about whether or not Prometheus was a necessary prequel. You’re cute when you watch house cats lounging around on people’s windowsills. And then when we’re practicing— when you tilt your head back after a particularly hard run and you’re out of breath, the line of your jaw is incredible. And when you are running out there—” he sucks in a breath, and Hongbin is suddenly aware that he’s stopped breathing too. Hakyeon exhales, stepping forwards. He places a warm hand on the side of Hongbin’s face, and Hongbin doesn’t move away.

“When you’re out there, jumping and climbing and vaulting like you’re meant to walk across the skies, you’re beautiful.”

Hongbin grabs the front of Hakyeon’s jacket, hauls him forwards, and presses their lips together.

It was impulsive and internally he’s shrieking and yanking his own hair out, heart hammering against his ribcage, but on the exterior his world has narrowed down to the way Hakyeon’s mouth opens slightly in surprise, the way his hand drops away from Hongbin’s face, and then the umbrella is falling onto the wet pavement as Hakyeon seizes him around the waist and drags him close.

Hongbin gasps, stomach melting from the heat, and Hakyeon kisses him back, a soft moan tumbling from his lips, and Hongbin wastes no time returning the favour tenfold.

They kiss and kiss until the rain becomes a little too much, and all that’s left when they part, arms still clinging around each other, is a punch-drunk giggle that slowly morphs into a full, happy laugh that echoes up and down the street.

+

When they meet again as a group on Thursday, Hakyeon walks up, gives Hongbin a peck on the cheek, and announces that he’s going to go change. Hongbin nods and continues to fiddle with the broken clasp of Sanghyuk’s water bottle, trying desperately to hide the flush heating up the back of his neck and cheeks while Taekwoon spits out his drink, Jaehwan falls flat on his face in shock, and Wonshik splutters utter incoherencies while Sanghyuk shrugs and says, “Called it.”

(But Hongbin doesn’t miss the how the tips of Hakyeon’s ears are looking adorably red too, and smiles giddily to himself.)

+

They start off a little slow, mostly because Hongbin is shy, but it turns out Hakyeon can get even shyer than him sometimes, which is probably the most delightful turn of events thus yet. Hongbin honestly can’t get enough of the way Hakyeon’s face will mirror his own bright red ones after they kiss, or how he’d touch his cheeks and lower his gaze bashfully after Hongbin compliments him on something. But he also doesn’t hold back on his affections either, and Hongbin quickly becomes accustomed to the sweet nicknames, the extra food and snacks Hakyeon insists on giving him, and no small amount of cuddles and smooches to his forehead, nose and lips.

They’re sitting together on the squashy sofa in Hakyeon’s apartment, marathoning some crime drama Hongbin’s been obsessed with, and Hakyeon doesn’t hesitate to pull Hongbin back against his chest and wrap his arms around his waist. The position is a little difficult on the couch, because they’re both so tall and bulky— and Hakyeon is bulky, just not in the way Hongbin’s biceps bulge or his thighs are literal hunks of solid meat. No, Hakyeon is long and wide-shouldered and his hips are also insanely strong too; he ran into the corner of one of Hongbin’s tables once and Hongbin swore the table was the one that dented instead.

“Hey,” Hakyeon murmurs, and Hongbin only manages a distracted hum in reply. The rookie detective Wang Chiang is on the verge of solving the case of the abducted pop singer, and he just knows it’ll have something to do with the detective’s allegedly deceased girlfriend. Who, as every diligent binge-watcher knows by now, isn’t actually dead.

“How long have we been dating?” Hakyeon asks, smoothing his thumb over the bit of skin underneath the hem of Hongbin’s shirt, and Hongbin shivers at the feeling.

“Um— three? Almost four weeks now?”

“So almost a month,” Hakyeon muses, kissing the back of Hongbin’s neck. “Wanna do something interesting to celebrate?”

“Celebrate? Y-Yeah, sure, I, uh,” he stammers, the line of his back tensing when Hakyeon’s hand slides further up, fingers tickling his stomach with their soft touch. Damn Hakyeon, Hongbin can feel him smiling against his neck. “W-whatever you want— Hakyeon—”

“Let’s go to the harbour,” Hakyeon suggests, finally easing up his teasing touches a little. Hongbin breathes a sigh of relief, staring at the television screen. Wang Chiang is running down some dark hallway, and he’s got no idea how the detective got there. “Nice view, fresh seafood, ice cream, and...” a kiss, right below his ear. “Plenty of space to jump around.”

Hongbin finally turns, grinning. He takes Hakyeon’s hand in his own, and pretends to consider it.

“Sounds like a plan.”

+

Their date is pleasant.

The weather is beautiful, and even though it’s sunny and bright outside, the breeze by the lake is fresh and the trail they jog down by is full of avid runners, parents with strollers, and little children running around. Said children also scream and gasp in delight as they watched Hongbin and Hakyeon hurdle over the railings, land on the rocks, and continue their way back up. The ice cream was a well-deserved treat after their practice.

“Hongbinnie,” Hakyeon says, nudging him, and Hongbin looks up, a smear of ice cream over his lips.

The screen of Hakyeon’s phone flashes, and Hongbin lets out a noise of indignant alarm.

“Cute,” Hakyeon coos, which is perfectly alright for him because he’s smiling like a champ and he’s shooting from his good angle. Meanwhile, Hongbin looks like a surprised toddler that’s just dropped food on themselves. So he spends a solid minute chasing Hakyeon around the pier until he latches on to his boyfriend, mashes their lips together, and makes Hakyeon take another picture of them with proper, gloriously messy ice cream moustaches.

+

They start hanging out together more often, aside from meeting up for practice or on dates. There’s weekends where Hakyeon would text Hongbin and drag him out of the apartment to go grocery shopping together, and after a bit of wheedling Hongbin also gains a new workout partner down at V Fitness (Jaehwan is still mysteriously absent). Hakyeon comes down to his campus one day, and Hongbin helps Hakyeon pick out a new dining table at Ikea another evening.

Hakyeon slips his hands into Hongbin’s each time they go out until Hongbin manages to scrape together enough confidence in his poor little heart and takes Hakyeon’s hand first. Hakyeon grins at him, squeezes back, and doesn’t let go.

Somehow, it’s like making that first jump. It’s daunting and scary and Hongbin feels like he might get blown off the building with one misstep, but once he leaps, he finds that the fall wasn’t so bad after all.

+

“Question?” Hakyeon says, and Hongbin looks up from the sink, the residual facewash foam dripping off his chin.

“Yeah?”

“What’s the worst injury you’ve gotten during parkour?” Hakyeon asks, leaning against the doorframe. He looks so comfortable in a faded grey shirt and dark pyjama bottoms that drag along the floor; Hongbin finds that he quite likes seeing Hakyeon comfortable in his home. They’ve been spending a lot more time at each other’s as of late, and there’s a little drawer in Hakyeon’s dresser thoughtfully cleared out for his stuff too.

“Hm,” Hongbin says, looking down at himself. There were scrapes that left faint scars on his hands, a lot of banged-up dents permanently left behind in his shins, and maybe a few bruises on his knees that turned every ugly colour under the sun before they healed. But there is one that he’s sort of proud of.

“I got this scar under my chin trying to jump across Satan’s Rift,” Hongbin says, tilting his head back, and Hakyeon makes a noise of surprise. Satan’s Rift is a crevice found near an abandoned bridge project north of the city, where construction companies had deemed the area unsuitable for work because of the loose rock. The little canyon became a popular spot for BMX bikers, rock climbers and some traceurs to take on the challenge. It seems like the divide only grows bigger with each passing winter, most likely a result of erosion, and ushers in a fresh crowd each time.

“Look at that,” Hakyeon clucks his tongue, gently tracing a calloused fingertip across the raised skin. “Let me guess, you fell.”

“I jumped three times, and fell twice,” Hongbin corrects, grinning. “I got it the second time when I missed the ledge and smashed my chin into the rock.”

“Urgh,” Hakyeon winces, withdrawing his hand and stepping out of the doorway so Hongbin could exit his bathroom. “And the third time?”

“I made it,” Hongbin smirks, liking the way Hakyeon’s eyebrows lift, impressed.

“Glad you did,” he purred, dragging his nails lightly down Hongbin’s neck, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

“And you? What was your worst injury?”

Hakyeon’s fingers vanish, and he lifts the hem of his shirt, showing an inch-long gouge on the left side of his hip.

“Misjudged a jump, fell, and landed on a pile of rubbish. The broken pipe hiding under a piece of cardboard was unexpected,” he says, sheepish. Hongbin chokes in disbelief, eyes widening.

“You what.”

“Got twelve stitches, got yelled at by all my siblings, and ended up with this wicked scar. Is that how kids say it nowadays?”

“Dunno,” Hongbin huffs, touching the line of Hakyeon’s hip. “How long ago was this?”

“Two years back, probably? It still aches a little, but only when it’s about to rain.”

“That’s weird,” Hongbin jokes, but he’s already moved to his knees. He presses a tentative kiss over the scar, feels Hakyeon suck in a breath, and then fingers carding through his hair. “How does it feel now?”

“... terribly achey,” Hakyeon says, chewing his lip as Hongbin’s hands trace the waistband of his pants. They’re loose around Hakyeon’s hips, and it’ll be so easy to give it a tug. “You should do something about it.”

“I should,” Hongbin agrees, wetting his lips, and Hakyeon turns red.

+

They fix up a time to really meet at V-Fitness, and sometimes the guys will drop in to chill with them. Well, as chill as they can possibly get when they’re sweating buckets as they work out. If Sanghyuk can goad Jaehwan enough, the two of them can usually be found sprinting around the track like wind-up toys until they collapse by the rowing machines, literally worn out. Hongbin has his own routine, like Hakyeon, but it’s still fun to jog on treadmills side by side or spotting the other as they lift weights.

It’s Friday night and nearly closing hour— there’s only a few people left at the gym. The hum of the water filter mixes with the constant whir of machinery and the occasional squeaks of shoes on the basketball court as a group of women play three-on-three. Hongbin lies on his back, the soft mat cushioning him from the ground, and tries to implement some cool-down meditation routine Hakyeon wanted to try out. His music sounds from his discarded headphones, tinny and small, and he feels Hakyeon’s pinky twitch against his from where their hands are lying very close to each other’s on the floor.

“Are you relaxing?” Hakyeon mumbles, and Hongbin cracks an eye open.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Obviously.”

Hongbin snorts, and it makes Hakyeon smile, puffing out a breath of air. He looks quite gorgeous like this, with his hair tousled and damp with sweat, scattered across his forehead because he’s on his back. A sudden idea hits Hongbin, and he sits up. Hakyeon opens his eyes.

“Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere,” Hongbin replies, standing with a grin. “Stay there, I have something I want to try on you.”

“Oooh,” Hakyeon smirks, giving him a suggestive eyebrow wiggle as he dodges away from Hongbin’s predictable smack. But he stays on his squashy purple mat anyway, hair fanning out around his head as Hongbin moves to stand above him. Hakyeon gives him an inquisitive look when he notices he’s lying right between Hongbin’s legs, but it quickly morphs into a mischievous one when Hongbin leans over, plants his hands on either side of Hakyeon’s head, and kicks him into a handstand.

“Want me to count for you?”

“Yes please,” Hongbin replies, feeling a sort of heat rise in his cheeks that really doesn’t have much to do with the blood rushing down into his head. Instead, he focuses on bending his elbows, controlling the balance of his handstand, and lowers himself.

Hakyeon closes his eyes, and Hongbin’s lips meets his boyfriends’.

“One,” Hakyeon says, as Hongbin pushes himself back up. He inhales, tightening his abdominal muscles, and goes back down. “Two.”

Push up. Back down.

“Three.”

Up. Down.

“Four.”

Again.

“Five.” There’s a hint of tongue this time.

“Six.” His arms shake slightly, but Hakyeon’s gaze is piercing. Hongbin’s muscles aren’t the only parts of him starting to feel the burn.

“Seven.”

Up.

“Eight.”

Down.

“Nine.”

Down, down, and down.

He hold this kiss a little longer, and feels Hakyeon’s soft exhale lightly against his mouth. Fingers trail up his arms, inducing goosebumps, and Hongbin’s focus zeroes in on the pounding of his heart, the tremble in his arms, and the feel of Hakyeon’s lips on his. He finally pushes back up, and lowers his feet.

Hakyeon sits up, eyes bright, and he lips his lips.

“Ten,” he breathes, and sits up so fast Hongbin almost falls over. He has to stifle a laugh when Hakyeon sweeps up their towels and water bottles in one swoop, hand tightening on Hongbin’s wrist before dragging them to the change rooms. He’s not really surprised when Hakyeon rounds on him in the shadowy corner just behind the entranceway, out of sight from anybody in the gym and anybody using the facilities.

Hakyeon kisses like he’s desperate, tugging at Hongbin’s hair and tilting his head back with the softest brush of his fingertips. He lets Hakyeon control it, thriving when he has to clench his hands into fists and refrain from touching. Later. It’ll be worth it later.

“Question,” Hakyeon says when he pulls back, voice rough.

“No, go back to kissing me.”

“Nah,” Hakyeon breathes, ragged. “Do you know how much of a tease you are sometimes?”

“A tease?” Hongbin repeats, blinking innocently as he lifts his hands, tugging up the hem of his shirt deliberately, and grins when Hakyeon’s eyes immediately look down at his abs and the V-line of his hips. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Fuck this,” Hakyeon intones, low and hot. “We’re going home.”

“Not gonna finish our routine today? How rare of you—”

“Fuck you,” Hakyeon growls, voice like sin. He palms the front of Hongbin’s pants without warning, and Hongbin’s hips twitch of their own accord as a gasp escapes from him. “You’d better put that smart mouth to proper use later on.”

“Sure,” Hongbin replies breathlessly, ignoring the wild feeling spreading throughout his chest. “If you think you can keep up, that is.” Hakyeon’s expression looks wrecked, and Hongbin feels like he’s just leapt off a building and he’s momentarily forgotten where it is he could land— or even if a landing is possible. All the possibilities swirl around in his brain for a tense second, and then it all boils down to a single answer, clear as day.

He’s gonna stick the landing.

He won’t stand for anything less.

+

“Question,” Hakyeon murmurs against his neck, and Hongbin shivers slightly at the ticklish sensation. He won’t admit it yet, because it’s fun watching Hakyeon pout at him when he’s playing hard to get, but he’s liking these little moments of discovery between the two of them.

“Answer,” he replies, reclining in the twisted sheets and blankets, and gets a pinch to the hip for his nonsense.

“Ow!”

“Why did you take up parkour?” Hakyeon asks, and Hongbin blinks.

“Um. It’s fun? It’s a good workout routine too.”

“What kind of an answer is that? This isn’t a job interview,” Hakyeon chides, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at Hongbin. Sex afterglow is truly a thing, and Hakyeon looks absolutely fantastic like this.

“I would hope not,” Hongbin deadpans. “I’m literally naked and just had sex with you, that would make our boss-employee relationship highly awkward.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” Hakyeon snarks back, flicking him in the forehead, and a quick bout of wrestling ensues until Hakyeon ends up resting his head on Hongbin’s chest, with Hongbin’s arms curled around his bare back.

“Dunno,” Hongbin admits. “I just remembered how much I liked climbing shit when I was young, but how I used to suck at getting down from high places.”

Hakyeon snorts. “I can see why you’re not a rock climber then.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin laughs, staring up at the ceiling. “And when I woke up late to classes, and I realized that running along the top of my neighbours’ backyard fences was a much quicker way to get to school on time than walking on the sidewalk. I used to get so many complaint calls from my principal.”

“Mm, a rebel,” Hakyeon says, eyes twinkling.

“Funny. But either way, when I found out there were ways to jump and leap and run like that... I just really got the hang of it, y’know?”

“Mmhm,” Hakyeon hums, tracing patterns onto Hongbin’s chest, and Hongbin cards his hands through Hakyeon’s soft, messy hair.

“And... I like the feeling of free falling,” he finishes. “The sensation just makes my heart jump. It feels cool.”

“God damn adrenaline junkie,” Hakyeon chuckles, and Hongbin pretends to roll his eyes.

“And what about you?” he asks. Hakyeon tilts his head so he could look up at Hongbin. He looks so kissable from this angle. “A businessman working for a popular clothing brand that jumps from buildings in his spare time. That’s some Spiderman shit right there.”

“No spiders, just me,” Hakyeon drawls. “Businessman by day, super cool traceur by night. You’ve just stumbled upon my dual identity, so now I must silence you.”

“Silence who— oomph—”

Hakyeon’s kisses right now are sweet, accompanied by little pecks at the corners of his mouth until he decides to give Hongbin a hickey on the inside of his lip. Which is, apparently, a thing, and it’s sort of hot.

“It’s as you said,” Hakyeon whispers, hand sneaking beneath the sheets. Hongbin groans when he feels Hakyeon’s fingers trace down his hips and between his legs. His body is wrung out, he can feel it, but there’s a warmth automatically spreading below his belly. God, Hakyeon has no idea what kind of an effect he can have.

“That feeling of free fall,” Hakyeon continues, kissing and biting along Hongbin’s collarbones. “And the good burn of a workout. The wind in my hair... and the world at my fingertips. It’s...”

His hand doesn’t stop, and Hongbin curses quietly and tugs at Hakyeon’s hair until Hakyeon moans with want.

“It’s great?” Hongbin pants, somehow managing to locate one of the condoms tossed somewhere over their blanket, and Hakyeon laughs breathlessly, smile wide and skin positively glowing.

“It’s phenomenal.”

+

“Aww,” Jaehwan coos, wiggling his sweater paws at them. Sanghyuk rolls his eyes good-naturally, Wonshik gives a half-hearted complaint, and Taekwoon, freshly free of his plaster, shakes his head with red cheeks and tries to hide behind Wonshik.

“Don’t be jealous,” Hakyeon calls, a huge grin on his face as he gives Hongbin’s nose an extra kiss. Hongbin splutters, but he’s got his arm wound around Hakyeon’s waist all the same, holding his boyfriend close. The camera captures the two of them, standing at the edge of an abandoned building on a hill with the beautiful city landscape on the verge of twilight as their backdrop. Hongbin’s never seen himself kiss Hakyeon before, but looking at the photo they took just now, he has to admit he likes it. He likes it a lot.

“We’re not getting any younger here, lovebirds!” Sanghyuk shouts, and Hakyeon huffs, stuffing his phone into the front pocket of his jacket. The weather’s getting colder, and the air is getting crisper.

“I’m off, babe,” he whispers, giving Hongbin a heart-melting smile. “Happy six months.”

“Yeah,” Hongbin smiles, and he lets go. Hakyeon fearlessly flips off the edge of the roof, aiming for the spacious terrace below them, and Hongbin watches on with warmth in his heart. A gust of wind blows past, ruffling his hair.

It’s an interesting feeling when he realizes that there is no fear to falling. Hongbin isn’t a whimsical dreamer, but sometimes, there are days where he feels like he can launch himself into the sky and stay there, where there is no longer a division between the horizontal and vertical.

The world becomes a runway, and he has his wings.

He leaps off the building after Hakyeon, spreads his arms, and flies.

+

It is a little embarrassing how Jaehwan, who is admittedly a full-fledged mage with decades of knowledge tucked away in his skull and has walked through the front lines of the Old Wars, still manages to beat him in a bout of friendly wrestling. Wonshik is the warrior; the one with field training and years of weapon mastery ingrained into his bones, but with Jaehwan the laws of the universe tended to bend and fold to his liking.

Wonshik spits out a mouthful of his own hair and grins sheepishly up at his partner, watching Jaehwan smile smugly down at him as he straddles Wonshik’s hips.

“I win,” the mage says, and Wonshik laughs.

“Yeah, you did.”

Jaehwan hums and lets go of his wrists, choosing to lift up the braid of hair resting on Wonshik’s shoulder. It’s become undone during their wild flailing and leaping, like a horrendously frayed rope. And it has been through a lot; there’s patches of white mixed with the black, a result of Wonshik not ducking quite fast enough when the enemy’s giant poison worms opened its fanged mouth took aim at him. Jaehwan doesn’t seem to mind the terrible mess though, and it only takes him a few seconds to charm the strands back together.

“Thanks,” Wonshik says, and Jaehwan shakes his head, smiling as he smoothes Wonshik’s hair out.

“Dunno why I bothered,” he says. “I’m just gonna mess it up again later.”

Wonshik raises his eyebrows. “Are you— oh. Oh,” he chokes out when Jaehwan rolls his hips, laughing softly. His hands, with the thin scars decorating the backs and the heavy, metal rings adorning thin digits, steadily undoes each button on Wonshik’s jacket, and Wonshik swallows with a hitch in his throat as Jaehwan urges him up, pushing the garment aside before placing his mouth over Wonshik’s.

He tastes like the cold of the night, the crisp air of a winter morning, and the clear water down by the fresh springs. It’s a reflection of the source Jaehwan draws his magic from— the moon that Wonshik’s always admired since he was a young boy peeking out of his cottage in the dead of night, gazing happily up at the darkened sky.

Jaehwan strips out of his shirt and trousers and nearly tosses them into the fire in his haste, and he’s got a wicked grin on his face when he undoes the drawstrings on Wonshik’s pants, hips never ceasing their movement. He moans and pants and laughs lightly against Wonshik’s cheek when he sits up, palms squeezing Jaehwan’s hips as he holds the mage steady, biting and sucking marks up and down Jaehwan’s neck with a growl.

“More,” Jaehwan gasps, hands buried in Wonshik’s hair. The sound of it alone makes Wonshik’s cock twitch, and he blushes, choosing to bit down on the soft spot underneath Jaehwan’s jaw instead of answering.

Jaehwan lets out a swear word in some dialect Wonshik can’t recognize, and just as he’s about to flip Jaehwan over, his partner tugs at the neckline of his shirt and whispers, “C’mon, get this off, I need to see you.”

Wonshik freezes.

“No—” he stammers out, and Jaehwan sits back so fast Wonshik nearly drops him. He’s frowning, and his eyebrows are knitted together.

“Why,” Jaehwan demands, and even though his hands don’t leave Wonshik’s collar, he doesn’t pull anymore. Wonshik inhales, and tries to formulate a response.

But nothing comes out.

Jaehwan exhales, frown softening slightly. “Wonshik,” he starts, like he’s talking to a spooked animal, “If you don’t want me to see your scar, I understand, but just remember what I said about it before—”

“That’s not it,” Wonshik interrupts, and he can feel his face flame even more. Jaehwan stares at him, confused. Wonshik feels his resolve weaken. “It’s… it’s something else.”

“What did you do to your chest?” Jaehwan asks, expression bordering concerned, and he seriously looks like he might up and leave right now, boner and all, to find Healer Sanghyuk and demand what kind of weird healing experiment he’s convinced Wonshik to try out this time.

“I got a tattoo,” Wonshik blurts out, and Jaehwan’s eyebrows arch.

“Uh. Okay? You’ve gotten plenty before? What, did Taekwoon mess it up or something?”

“No,” Wonshik admits, gulping. “It’s just. I just. Uhm.”

Jaehwan rolls his eyes, places his hands at the hem of Wonshik’s shirt, and looks him in the eye when Wonshik flinches.

“I’m gonna take a look. Wonshik, it’s okay. I’m not gonna judge. Is this why you’ve refused to take off your damn shirt every time we have sex for the past month?”

“Er,” Wonshik blushes, and Jaehwan gives him a dead look.

“Idiot,” he mumbles under his breath, without malice, and pulls Wonshik’s shirt off him. The fabric falls aside, and Jaehwan goes stock still above him.

The thing is, Wonshik’s chest is a mess. There’s only so much enchanted armour, shields and evasive maneuvers can do for him in battle. He’s taken hard hits before, but he’d dust himself off and get right back up. But once, when an enemy Necromancer had cut through his chest plate, dragged the cursed sword down from his collarbone to his stomach, through flesh and muscle, Wonshik had fallen. He didn’t stand up again.

And astoundingly, the greatest pain he felt that time was when Jaehwan’s bond mark, the one that took up the left side of his chest, has been there ever since he turned of age, started to fade as he died.

He was certain he’d crossed over. He knew he crossed over, because he saw his father in his warlock’s robes, saw his mother in her armour, saw an uncle that had gone missing decades ago, and he would’ve joined them. Except, he heard Jaehwan’s voice, felt a searing pain over his heart, and woke back up desperate for air and clutching blindly at a devastated Jaehwan in the heat of battle.

Wonshik had survived because of an incredible feat of Jaehwan’s magic. The bond mark, unfortunately, hadn’t. And even though he felt empty without it, felt like he’d lost a part of Jaehwan in some way, Jaehwan told him with unfailing calmness: “I need you in my life. With or without your bond mark, you’re still my Wonshik.”

There was none of that calmness now, because Jaehwan’s fingers are trembling as he touches the inscriptions on Wonshik’s chest, the same ancient runes of the mages he’d lost during the revival process. There was same the half moon, curved over his heart, where Jaehwan had once kissed reverently. Cutting through the blue ink is a jagged scar, thick and searing, marking the time Wonshik almost couldn’t hold Jaehwan in his arms anymore. The tattoo lacked the vibrance and the connection of a real bond mark, but Taekwoon’s work is immaculate. It breathes and lives, even if it’s different.

“You got this done?” Jaehwan asks, his voice startlingly small, and he places a hand over Wonshik’s heart. Wonshik mirrors him, pressing his chest over the sun and the solid lines of the warrior’s code running down Jaehwan’s skin. It warms under his touch, and he feels their hearts beat as one. They’re the sun and the moon.

“I know it’s not the same,” Wonshik whispers, tipping Jaehwan’s face back up with his other hand. Jaehwan is crying, but he’s smiling, watery and timid, and he leans into Wonshik’s touch. “But it’s for you. My life is yours.”

Jaehwan turns and kisses Wonshik’s hand, whispering something in the Old Language, but Wonshik could feel the emotion behind it.

He let Jaehwan push him backwards onto the pillows, the frenzied actions before replaced by a more intimate, gentle touch.

“Our lives are intertwined. I love you so much, Wonshik.”

As do I, Wonshik thinks, closing his eyes when Jaehwan’s lips meet his.

“Kid, I swear to all things unholy, if you don’t stop yanking on my fins I will toss you back into the ocean.”

“Good!” the boy shouts, wiping a string of snot from his nose with his sleeve— Jaehwan cringes at the sight, slimy stuff really shouldn’t be coming out of humans’ orifices like that, right?— and tries to knock the kid off his tail with a series of hefty flops. It doesn’t work.

“Take me with you,” the boy whines, huge eyes pleading with Jaehwan. “Please, I don’t wanna go back to the castle.”

“You swallowed a lot of seawater, didn’t you?” Jaehwan says in exasperation, clawing to the slippery rock in an attempt to keep himself from sliding back into the ocean. Seriously, if he knew saving kid off the cliffside would’ve been this much of a pain, he would’ve just let him drown. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but humans can’t breathe underwater.”

“I’ve noticed,” the kid snaps, clutching at a patch of seaweed. “But don’t merpeople have, like, magic, or whatever? Can’t you change me into a merman too?”

“Uh, no,” Jaehwan retorts, glowering. “Magic what? I’m not a sea witch, brat.”

“Okay, then can you take me to a sea witch?” the kid demands, and Jaehwan chokes.

“Absolutely not, unless you want them to turn the two of us into sea slugs for the rest of our lives.” The kid pouts, and Jaehwan rolls his eyes, a question popping up in his mind. “Also, why the hell do you want to stay in the ocean anyway? You nearly drowned just now.”

The kid scowls and looks away, finally relenting his hold on Jaehwan’s tail in favour of hefting himself higher up on the rock. They’re tucked away in the shadows of the cliff, and the boy is starting to shiver from the cold water. “I’m not going back,” he sniffs. “In case you didn’t notice, I was trying to escape the guards coming for me.”

That catches Jaehwan’s interest. He shifts and gives the kid a once over. “Why guards?”

“Because I’m the kingdom’s prince, and I ran away,” the boy replies dully. Jaehwan raises an eyebrow. Okay then.

“Why were you running?”

“Because I mouthed off to my da— the king,” the boy admits, rubbing his skinny arms. There’s a scar on the inside of his elbow, curved like the crescent moon. “And he’s gonna lock me in my room again.”

“I take it that’s a bad thing?” Jaehwan ventures, and the boy glares at the water lapping up against the rock, angry.

“It’s not the worst of it,” he mutters, and Jaehwan sighs, feeling a pang of sympathy in his chest.

“Look, kid, I’m sorry you have a crap dad. That’s not right, but… the sea can’t offer you the kind of comfort you’re looking for either.”

“Anywhere is better than the palace,” the boy complains, and Jaehwan shakes his head.

“Not for a youngling like you. The creatures in the deep, they’ll eat you alive. And I’m not just talking about big sharks or giant squids,” he adds, because the boy looks like he’ll wrestle one just to get his point across. “There’s things you shouldn’t mess with in the deep. Things you shouldn’t trespass. It’s a different realm, kiddo. The way I won’t survive living in your world is the same as you not being able to live in mine.”

The boy slumps, chin jutting out pitifully. “Then what do I do,” he moans, holding his head in his hands. “I don’t wanna go home.”

Jaehwan chews his lip, flapping his tail against the rock, and he heaves a sigh. “Okay, listen here, brat, you know the fishermen’s shack down by the beach?” he asks, and the boy nods at once. “There’s a one-eyed fisherman who frequents the shack once every evening to lock up. His name is Taekwoon. If you can sell your sob story to him, and if you’re willing to do some grunt work, he might take you in.”

“I’ll do it,” the boy says at once, sitting bolt upright. There’s a fierce sort of determination shining in his eyes, and Jaehwan can feel himself sweating at once. Fuck, this kid is nuts.

“Are you sure? Taekwoon won’t go easy on you just because you’re a prince. Hell, he won’t even care if you’re a prince—”

“I can do it,” the boy interrupts. “Point the way.”

Jaehwan groans, burying his head in his hands for a moment before slipping back into the water.

“C’mon,” he grunts, holding his arms out to the kid. After some hesitation, the boy splashes gracelessly into the water as well, immediately clinging to Jaehwan. He wraps his arms around the human child tightly, and propels them swiftly through the water with strong kicks of his tail until they reach the shore, where the shack Jaehwan spoke of is sitting alone in the dunes, practically disintegrating. He swims the boy up to the shore until it’s shallow enough for him to walk.

“Good luck,” Jaehwan grunts, watching the boy struggle up.

“Thanks,” he says, shooting Jaehwan a grin. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t make promises to magical creatures lightly,” Jaehwan warns, wagging a finger. The kid narrows his eyes.

“You said you didn’t have any magical powers!”

“Did I?” Jaehwan smirks, showing his fangs, and the kid rolls his eyes. “Keep your nose clean, brat.”

“Sanghyuk,” the boy says, and Jaehwan lifts an eyebrow. The boy flushes, fiddling with his wet shirt. “That’s my name,” he mumbles, and Jaehwan smiles.

“Good luck then, Sanghyuk,” he replies, and shimmies back into the sea.

The last thing he sees is Sanghyuk’s face, full of curiosity and interest before the waves smooth over him, and Jaehwan descends back into the water.

+

[Nineteen years later]

“Haul ‘im in!” the raspy, panting voice of the poacher roars, disgusting excitement in his tone as his workers stand at the edge of dock, grunting and sweating as they fought to pull a net up.

Inside of it, Jaehwan writhes and snarls, every curse he’s ever known tumbling from his lips as he thrashes against the thick ropes. It chips at his scales, burns his sides, and suffocates him. He’s rising out of the water, despite his best efforts (he’s already knocked three other men in, and the water around him are tainted red, just like his fangs), he’s not getting out of this one.

“Lookie ‘ere, boys,” the poacher chuckles, crouching down to look Jaehwan in the eye. Jaehwan hisses, swiping at the ugly man, who laughs. “This one’ll fetch a pretty penny, won’t he?”

A small crowd has gathered along the dock, and he can see a trader’s port some ways up the hill. Jaehwan flops all over the wood, terror curling in the pit of his stomach. Damn it, damn it, damn it—

“Let’s celebrate tonight!” the poacher shouts, waving a beefy hand into the air. “I’ll be a rich man after pawning this one off—!”

The flash comes before the bang, but the sound of the gunshot is so sharp everybody screams and leaps aside. Jaehwan twitches, clawing a the net tangled around him. What in the world?

“Or you might be dead,” a cheerful voice says conversationally, and gasps can be heard up and down the dock.

Oh my god, it’s him, how can this be?

Who?

It’s the captain of the Fantasia.

The demon of the sea himself.

A hand lands on the net, and Jaehwan jerks reflexively, snapping his teeth in anger, and a man’s voice says soothing, “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you. I know you, remember?”

Beneath the sleeve of rolled up shirt, there is a scar on the inside of his elbow, curved like the crescent moon. Jaehwan’s eyes widen, and the net is finally thrown off him.

By his side is a man, almost too well-dressed for a pirate, but undoubtably one who’s made himself comfortable at sea. The tanned, calloused skin of the pirate’s hands send jolts up Jaehwan’s spine as he helps him up, a bright look on his face.

“S-Sanghyuk?” Jaehwan splutters, hardly daring to believe his eyes, and Sanghyuk grins widely, delighted.