#implied relationships

After a struggle that seemed as if it would last a lifetime, the battle for Wano was won… Luffy and his crew, along with the samurai alliance, prevailed in their fight against Kaido and Orochi's army. With Wano free, Momonosuke rose to power and restored the Kozuki clan's honor, along with his country's hopes and dreams. Tonight, it seemed like the festivities would continue until everyone had their fill, free to do as they pleased.

What had been planned as a single-day fire festival soon expanded into a multi-day celebration, a joyous commemoration of Wano’s liberation from the tyrannical grip of suffering. The people of the island rejoiced in the streets, their laughter echoing through the air, lanterns glowing against the night sky like stars brought down to earth. The scent of grilled food, sweet sake, and burning incense permeated the air as Momonosuke, alongside the Straw Hat crew and his retainers, indulged in the freedom they had fought so hard to secure. It was a festival for the ages, meant to honor the fallen and the living, where the “heroes” of Wano could join in once their battered bodies allowed them to.

But while the island celebrated, reveling in their newfound freedom, there was one person who couldn’t quite join in, one whose chest still clenched tightly with lingering pain, her mind weighed down by memories that had not yet loosened their grip. Nico Robin had done her best to maintain her composure throughout the day, smiling when needed, offering polite conversations when approached. Yet, beneath the surface, the emotions she had bottled up were threatening to overflow.

As the merriment reached an all time high in the main dining area, Robin felt herself growing more and more detached from the festive atmosphere around her. The lively chatter and the constant movement became too much. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more oppressive than the last, and her chest tightened with an invisible weight she could no longer ignore.

She needed to get away.

In a moment of quiet resolve, she slipped from her seat, unnoticed by the others who were too engrossed in the party to see her go. Robin moved gracefully through the main dining hall area, her expression calm despite the inner turmoil she was trying so desperately to conceal. The clinking of cups, the hearty laughter, and the occasional bursts of music became distant as she retreated further and further from the crowd. The vibrant glow of lanterns faded as she made her way through the dim corridors of the hall, seeking refuge in the quieter corners of the building.

Finally, she found a small room tucked away from the celebrations. The door creaked softly as she pushed it open, stepping into the cool, shadowed space. It was dimly lit by a single paper lantern, its soft glow casting flickering shadows across the room’s sparse furnishings: a low table, a few cushions, and a screen door that led out to a quiet garden. The room had an air of serenity about it, a peaceful solitude that sharply contrasted the lively atmosphere just outside. But for Robin, it was a haven, a place where she could finally breathe.

She closed the door behind her, the muffled sounds of the festival in the distance. The silence of the room wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, but it also brought with it the thoughts she had been trying to escape. Her heart, which had been pounding all day with the weight of unprocessed fear and grief, now thudded heavily in her chest.

Robin moved slowly toward the center of the room, her knees feeling weak as she knelt on the floor. She placed a hand over her chest, as if trying to physically calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. The flickering lantern light reflected in her dark eyes as she stared at the floor, her thoughts once again drifting to Kaido’s burning castle, the suffocating heat of the flames, and the chilling moment when CP-0 had appeared from the smoke.

She was defenseless after her battle with Black Maria, her stamina drained to the very edge. And then they had come for her, the agents, faceless and merciless, determined to capture her. It had all happened so fast, her limbs heavy with exhaustion, her mind screaming at her to run, to fight, but her body had been paralyzed by fatigue. She would have been taken, dragged away into the clutches of the World Government, had it not been for Brook. He had protected her, his calm presence a lifeline amidst the chaos, guiding her to safety even as the castle crumbled around them.

But even now, safe from danger, the old wounds resurfaced. The terror of being hunted, the memories of CP-9, the despair she had felt during the Water 7/ Enies Lobby incident, and the haunting fear of losing everything and everyone all over again. Those scars were fresh, bleeding beneath the surface of her calm exterior. Her body trembled slightly as she knelt there, the room’s quiet stillness contrasting the storm brewing inside her.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if she could hold herself together through sheer willpower. She bent forward, her forehead nearly touching the floor as her sobs, so carefully suppressed, finally broke free. Her mind was a blur of memories, each one sharper than the last: her mother’s final words, Saul’s laughter before he was silenced forever, the cold, hollow feeling of losing everything.

But then, through the darkness of her thoughts, a voice echoed in her mind. A voice she had not expected to hear at such a moment.

"No matter how dangerous you may be, just being alive, being who you are, is never wrong!"

She clung to those words like a lifeline.

Franky's voice suddenly cutting through the haze of her distress. It was strange—his voice wasn’t actually in the room with her, yet it had settled at the very center of her thoughts, clear and reassuring.

Franky…

The mere thought of him brought a wave of warmth that dulled the sharp edges of her panic. Slowly, her mind shifted away from the pain and toward him. His vibrant blue hair—so unique, so utterly Franky—flashed in her memory, and she found herself smiling, despite everything. Then came the image of his physique, a striking mix of power and sleek engineering, and with it, the bold, larger-than-life personality that made him stand out in a world full of extraordinary people.

As she thought about him, the tightness in her chest began to ease. Her heart, which had been racing with anxiety moments ago, now pounded with something else entirely: excitement. It amazed her how just thinking about him could chase away the shadows, and could lift the crushing weight off her chest. Franky had always been different, a person who managed to make her feel grounded, even amidst the chaos.

While the entire crew had fought to save her, there was something about Franky that had carved out a special place in her heart. She remembered how he’d put himself on the line for her, taking bullets without a second thought, shielding her with his body as though it was the most natural thing in the world. His concern for her had been so genuine, so selfless, and though they hadn’t known each other long, she felt a connection to him that went deeper than she could explain. There was also his morality that stood out to her, back in Dressrosa he swore to fight alongside the Tontattas in their revolution against the Donquixote family no matter what. 

From that moment on, Franky stood out in ways she hadn’t fully acknowledged until now. She recalled the first time they brought him aboard the crew. She’d strong-armed him—literally—when the opportunity arose, grabbing him by the balls to force him to join. At the time, she hadn’t known why she felt so compelled to keep him close, but now it seemed obvious. Something inside her had known even then that she didn’t want him far from her.

As these thoughts caressed her, Robin could almost feel his presence beside her. She replayed the way his eyes had met hers in the past, the steady reassurance in his gaze before he snapped into his larger-than-life self. Her heart fluttered again, and she realized her hands were trembling slightly. What was this feeling? She couldn’t quite place it, but whatever it was, she didn’t want it to end.

Franky was rough around the edges, yes, but there was a warmth beneath the bravado that Robin had always sensed. His laughter was full-bodied, like he put his entire soul into it. He had a passion for everything he did, a reckless joy for life that she found intoxicating. Deep down, she had always cared for him, though she had never allowed herself to explore those feelings beyond the bounds of friendship. He was her crewmate, her friend. And yet, the way she felt about him was beginning to feel like so much more.

But that terrified her.

Robin had lost too much already: her mother, Saul, the island of Ohara. The fear of attachment had kept her guarded, she was a one point distant even from her crewmates. She had worn an air of aloofness, presenting herself as the mysterious scholar, the composed archaeologist. Inside however, she was anything but. The thought of getting too close to someone, of letting herself care—it filled her with a crippling anxiety. What if she lost him? What if Franky became another person she loved only to see ripped away? 

She had told herself for so long that it was better to keep her distance, to protect her heart from that kind of pain. But here she was, sitting in the dimly lit room, feeling her heart race not from fear, but from the rush of emotions she could no longer deny. She trusted her crewmates with all her being, every single one of them, she had for a while now, and just as she went running to help Sanji in need, she was going to have to do the same for herself: and trust in her feelings.

Robin slowly sat up, her body no longer hunched over in despair. She adjusted her position, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap. Her breathing was still a little shaky, her heart still thudding heavily in her chest, but it was no longer the suffocating panic from before. Her spirit felt lighter than air now as she finally let go of the small portion of fear she had been holding on to. 

Franky… What is it about you that makes me feel so strange?

Robin's thoughts swirled, trying to pin down exactly what it was about him that stirred this unfamiliar sensation inside her. Was it the way he carried himself, so confident? Or was it his genius, his knack for innovating everything around him? Or maybe it was that strange, boyish sense of wonder he seemed to carry, mixed with his occasional bursts of immaturity. She chuckled softly, her lips curling into a smirk as she fondly recalled the ridiculous moment when Franky had flown away using nothing but farts powered by cola. He could be so absurd—and yet, somehow, that only made him more endearing.

Memories began to flood her mind all at once, the small moments they had shared over time. The meals together, the way he’d playfully carry her like a queen without a second thought, the countless times he had shielded her from danger, guiding her to safety. A wave of warmth spread through her, washing away the last remnants of her earlier panic. In this quiet moment, she realized something that made her chest flutter—she wanted more. She wanted to be held by him again, to share more meals, more laughter, to be adored by him the way he always seemed to adore her.

"WOAH! Now who is that gorgeous lady!" His booming voice echoed in her head, filling her with a burst of joy. He had always seen her as beautiful, always accepted her for who she was. It wasn’t just the admiration in his words but the genuine warmth behind them. Franky wasn’t someone who said things lightly. When he called her beautiful, he meant it with his whole heart. And now, in this moment of clarity, Robin allowed herself to give in, to let her thoughts run wild with the possibilities.

For so long, she had carried the weight of her past, of loss and heartache. But now, as she let her mind linger on Franky, the pain of those old memories began to fade, replaced by a gentle, glowing hope.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, savoring the cool air as it filled her lungs. As she let it out, a sense of release washed over her. The tension she had been holding on to for so long finally began to melt away. And in that quiet moment, she came face-to-face with a truth she had been denying for far too long.

“I love him.”

The realization struck her like a tidal wave, overwhelming at first. She sat there for a moment, stunned, as the weight of it settled in. But as the words sank deeper, a smile crept across her face: wide, bright, and uncontainable. She tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but her joy bubbled up inside her, spilling out in soft giggles that soon grew louder.

"I... I’m in love with Franky," she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

The sheer abruptness of the realization left her speechless for a moment. Her usually fair complexion flushed with a deep rose tint, spreading quickly across her cheeks. She had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined falling in love. Love wasn’t something she had ever thought possible for her—not with her history, not with the walls she had built around herself. It had always felt like something distant, something meant for other people. But now, the undeniable truth of her feelings was staring her in the face, impossible to ignore.

Can we truly be together? she wondered, the question lingering in her mind like a half-formed dream. Could someone like her, with so much darkness in her past, really be with someone as bright and open as Franky?

Slowly, Robin rose from the cold floor, her movements deliberate and measured. The room around her felt smaller now, as if the space itself was shrinking beneath the weight of her new realization. She couldn’t stay hidden away any longer, not with this truth hanging in the air.

With a newfound resolve, she stepped toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest. The next move was hers to make. If she was going to let Franky into her life, into her heart, she needed to know more, needed to see how he felt, if there was a real future for them.

Robin stepped out of the secluded room, leaving behind the shadows of her past. She would find him, talk to him, because if anyone could help her navigate this new, strange feeling, it was the man with the bright blue hair and the even brighter heart.

Notes:

Thank you for reading chapter 1!! I plan for this fic to be a good length, I’m refining chapter 2, so it will be up soon!

Okay, so maybe hate was a strong word. Distrust was probably more accurate and Minho could understand - to a point - their reasoning. Hell, he hated magic too! Magic being ‘bad’ was the general consensus that was being drilled into their heads, which was fine. What Minho didn’t understand was why every course on magic - most required - had to repeat the same material, nearly word for word from each other. He thought that at least one course would touch on the subject of how to defend against magic, or how to protect against curses and hexes. 

But no. Every course simply taught about all the horrible and tyrannical magic users of olden days and the reasons why the enforcers were created, as well as how to overall avoid any magic user at all cost.

It was monotonous and boring and Minho couldn’t believe he was wasting his hard earned money on this bullshit.

‘Two more semesters and you can start fresh. Just two more semesters.’

It was a mantra he had to keep repeating to himself. He could do this!

“Tomorrow we’ll cover the Great Siege.”

Minho absolutely couldn’t stop the long groan of exasperation that escaped him. Thankfully, it was covered up by the sounds of chair legs scraping across linoleum floors as students started packing up and leaving. It took Minho a hot second before he started to follow, taking his time packing in order to let the room empty out. It wasn’t like he had anywhere important to be anyway. Tuesdays were his slow days. One class - which he absolutely despised - in the morning and the rest of the day was void of any socialization. 

Usually.

There are some days where Minho is feeling particularly masochistic and would visit the Maxident Cafe across the street from the campus. It was a bustling little homely establishment that always brought a sense of warmth and familiarity to him, but Minho could never figure out as to why. However, Minho had long since learned that questioning things were futile and to just accept things as they were. It caused less of a headache that way.

Today, Minho was feeling masochistic.

The fairy shaped wind chimes sounded as he pushed open the door to the cafe - face hit with the most delicious smells Minho ever had the pleasure of sniffing. ‘Felix must be working today.’

“Welcome in!”

Speaking of the devil, Minho smiled, a soft greeting falling from his lips as he stared at Felix. The brunette was carefully stocking their display shelves with freshly baked goods. “Hey Felix.”

“Hyung!” Felix shot up, nearly dropping his tray in the process. He fumbled with and luckily caught it before it could fall to the floor. He was so adorable. “You didn’t see that.” Felix shot him a pointed glare and Minho laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, I saw all of it.” he teased with a wink, approaching the counter. The flirtatious teasing had Felix flushing a pretty pink that accentuated the freckles that littered his round cheeks - adding to his beauty. Minho could honestly get lost staring at him.

“Dang it.” Felix pouted, setting his tray down on. He wiped his hands on his apron before turning his full attention to Minho. “Oh well.” he shrugged. “What can I get for you today?”

“A date.”

Felix blinked rapidly a few times, mimicking Minho’s own stare, as he processed the words that left the older male’s mouth. “Hyung!” he whined, another pout gracing his features. “Hyunjin isn’t here today.” he muttered almost sadly. Minho scoffed at the rebuttal. Not that he had anything against the male. Hyunjin was tall, gorgeous and a delight to be around - most of the time - but Felix was definitely more of Minho’s style. Small, cute and easily flustered. Felix also had this uncanny ability to just radiate sunshine and happiness and it was that pure goodness that attracted Minho to him. While the darkness inside him loved to hiss and writhe - like a dramatic diva - for being in the vicinity as Felix, the goodness in him scrambled to cling to the light - to draw from the energy he needed to keep going; to stay good.

He really was masochistic.

“You say that as if I care.” Minho smirked as he leaned against the counter, eyes locked with Felix’s pretty brown orbs - watching as they shook, unable to hold his gaze. “In which, I do not.” Felix cocked his head, batting his lashes in confusion and Minho just wanted to coo at him. A ridiculous notion. He reserved that type of behavior for his cats. Though, Felix could probably pass for a cat if he tried. “If I wanted to date Hyunjin, I would.” And he left it at that. He wasn't sure if Felix understood what he meant by that, but it didn’t matter really. Eventually he would, or least Minho hoped he would. “I’ll take my usual.”

Eyes brightening, Felix rang Minho up and after paying, the younger ran to get started on his drink, the two falling into the familiar pattern of barista/patron. AS he waited, Minho let his eyes wander over the crowded floors of the cafe, students happily chatting away or focused on their laptop screens, showing more dedication to their coursework than Minho had in his pinkie finger. It was a life Minho couldn’t get behind. Of course, it’s not like would purposefully fall behind on coursework or just fail his classes.

Absolutely not!

He had spent way too much money on his education to waste it. But that didn’t mean the thought of working didn’t disgust him. And perhaps he would have more motivation if the subject matter was more interesting. He took these magic courses because he wanted to learn more about magic. He wanted to learn about the history of it - where it came from,  or how it was passed down through the generations. He didn’t want to be put through the hell of hearing the same iterations of stories with only minor changes.

“Here you go hyung!” Minho stared at Felix, refusing to acknowledge how the other startled him. Felix stared at him expectantly and Minho glanced down at the cup between them - so innocuous. Taking the cup, he took a quick sip - face schooled but inside he was screaming as he burnt his tongue. A stupid mistake to make. Of course the drink would be hot, what else had he been expecting?  “Good?” Felix asked.

“Delicious.” Minho forced out, hoping his words weren’t as slurred as he thought they were as his tongue was numb. “Thanks for the drink, Lixie. I’ll see you later.” Making a not-so-grand exit, Minho headed back to his apartment, intent to spend the rest of his day curled up on the couch with his cats, watching whatever drama he could feasibly binge watch in an afternoon. It sounded like heaven and was probably the main reason the normally 10 minute commute only toko 5 minutes.

Upon entering his apartment, he was greeted to a chorus of meows as three furry bodies rubbed against his legs. “Hello babies. Did you miss me?” he asked, smiling as he received more meows in response. Minho was sure they weren’t actually talking to him, but it was fun to think that. Though if they could talk, he was sure he would hear nothing but complaints about how they wanted more food, even though he fed them before he left for class that morning. Shaking his head, he shuffled further inside, careful to not lift his feet fully off the floor in fear of stepping on one of his babies.

“You know.” he started, sending the three cats a frustrated glare. “This would go faster if you weren’t trying to trip me.” he huffed. Though he knew they weren’t trying to actually trip him, he did find it ironically hilarious that as soon as he made that comment, the three cats wandered off. Such a convenient coincidence. “Thank you.”

Unobstructed, Minho headed into the kitchen and against his better judgment, he fixed three bowls of cat food, setting them down in their normal spots by the fridge. “Soonie, Doongie, Dori!” It took a moment, but eventually two orange cats emerged, followed by a gray tabby that trotted over to their dishes and eagerly devoured their food. “So spoiled.” 

Cat dad duties finished, Minho headed back into the living room and plopped down on the couch with a heavy sigh. He wasn’t sure why he still felt so frustrated. He knew the feeling stemmed from the story covered in class but usually seeing Felix and getting his favorite coffee always made him feel better. Today it just didn’t seem to be working. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed once again. Grabbing the remote, he turned on the TV and scrolled through the channels until he landed on a drama that barely caught his interest, mind still a jumbled mess.

Lost in his thoughts, Minho jumped when his phone started ringing, eyes wide as he stared at the offending device. Quickly, his eyes scanned the room, landing on Doongie as the orange cat sat in the corner, watching him with an interested gaze. “You saw nothing.” he warned, the feline yawning in response before curling up and laying down. Talking to the cats was an odd habit surely, but it did help to keep Minho from feeling lonely. With a grunt, Minho grabbed his phone, which had started ringing for a second time. “Hello?”

“Minnie~” Minho cringed at the sickenly sweet coo, mentally kicking himself for taking the call. “What are you doing?”

“Watching TV.”

“So nothing then?” Jungkook.

“No, I’m watching TV.” he corrected with a scoff.

“Perfect! We’re having a gathering tonight and we would love it if you came.”

Minho mulled over the offering carefully. He really didn’t feel like going out and socializing, but he knew gatherings like these were usually fun and filled with people that Minho could tolerate for the most part. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Oh, you know…”

No, he in fact, didn’t know and Minho hated how vague Jungkook was being, but that was to be expected from the socialite. No information given, but he could surprisingly convince anyone to go anywhere and do just about anything. “I’ll be there, Seonghwa -” He started listing off names, but truth be told Minho tuned him out, not at all interested. At least, not until a specific name was listed. “Irene, Chan -”

“Chan’s going?” Minho straightened on the couch and if he were a cat, his ears would have twitched with interest. Jungkook laughed at that and a spike of embarrassment coursed through Minho. However, his curiosity was too great to let him dwell on that for very long.

“Of course that’s the only name you would care about.”

“Arguably the only one to care about.” Minho retorted with a shrug. He pointedly ignored teh scoff on the other end. “What time?”

“7pm.”

“Ugh, really?”

“What? Past your bedtime grandpa?” Minho snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Some of us have class in the morning, slacker.”

“Yeah, but Chan will be there.” And that was such a tempting offer, and Jungkook knew it. The self made Soundcloud producer was such eye candy and a sweetheart to boot. Even with the minimal interaction Minho had with Chan was enough to have him swooning and falling head over heels for the man. Hell, Minho practically tripped over himself once to try and get a moment alone with Chan. Could he really pass up another opportunity to see him?

No way in hell.

“I’ll come.”

“Great! So we’ll-” Minho ended the call mid sentence, knowing full well Jungkook would text him the info later. Dropping the phone on the couch, he let his head fall back, feeling so mentally drained from the call. There was something off about the day. His mood just didn’t feel right and it upset him as much as it concerned him. He normally had a steady plateau of emotion, fluctuating only occasionally and in short bursts. To ping pong between emotions and have none of his normal soothing items help calm him down, it was strange. Hopefully, seeing chan and being around others would fix whatever was broken.

-----------

The one thing Minho hated most about Jungkook and his “gatherings” was the fact they always included magic of some sort. Usually Jungkook or someone close to him would perform some childish magic trick that still enraptured everyone. And while all the magic users usually invited were white magic users, that never stopped Enforcers from showing up. The magic cops loved to show off their status at any given point - the white starburst badges pinned to their right shoulder sleeve. At least it made it easy for Minho to identify and steer clear of them. He had never had an actual encounter with an enforcer, other than a passing glance. Yet he had an instinctual fear of them and he did his best to avoid them like the plague. Parties were no different. 

After grabbing a drink from the kitchen, Minho made his way back into the living room and made himself comfy on one of the couches. He scanned the crowded room, watching bodies as they grinded together on the makeshift dance floor. Normally Minho would join in, letting the music take over his body - releasing all his worries and stress as he lost himself to the rhythm of the beat. But not today. Not when he knew Chan was going to be there. He would have ample enough time to dance, but the chance to talk with Chan was few and far between. Besides, if he was lucky, maybe he could convince Chan to have a dance… or five. It was a solid plan and all Minho had to do was be patient. 

But he was far from being a patient man.

As the night wore on, he was becoming extremely antsy for Chan’s arrival. His spot on the couch had the perfect view of the front door and anyone who walked in. At least a dozen or so people came and went, and with each new arrival, Minho’s hopes were crushed a little more.

Four drinks and two hours later, Minho wandered back into the kitchen, intent to get another drink. His mind was already feeling fuzzy, but thankfully the ground wasn’t moving yet. He could handle one or two more drinks before he needed to go home. The kitchen was a mess. Empty beer cans and soda bottles littered the floor. Half empty liquor bottles were scattered across various counters and the center island. The room itself was empty except for one person by the fridge. Minho had a witty comment on the tip of his tongue but it disappeared as he spotted the starburst patch on the right shirt sleeve. Every instinct in his body kicked in and his brain was screaming at him to turn tail and run away - which he did. But just as he was leaving, he heard an all too familiar voice.

“Minho, hey!”

Minho paused and against his better judgment, he turned around. His eyes landed on Chan’s beautiful face, a smile so wide and pure that this entire scenario seemed surreal. 

“Chan,” he breathed. “When did you get here?”

It was a stupid question. Or rather, the question wasn’t stupid, just the fact that Minho insisted on holding a conversation was stupid. It didn’t matter when Chan arrived, but when did he become an enforcer? Last he checked, enforcers had to have some sort of white magic in them and Chan was human! There was not an ounce of  white magic residing in him. Of course, it wasn’t unheard of that humans could be enforcers, but the humans tended to be part of archiving and trials. Their badges - according to historians - were different. The starbursts were only for enforcers who actively patrolled and enforced the laws. So why did Chan - pure, loving, kind hearted Chan - have the starburst?

“A bit ago. Jungkook had me held hostage out front.” he chuckled as if that explained everything.

It explained absolutely nothing!

In fact, it only added to Minho’s confusion. Had Jungkook known all along about Chan’s new position in life? It’s not like the older man wasn’t aware of Minho’s dislike for the enforcers.

“O-Oh.” How lame, but what else could he say? There were plenty of things Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure he could ask them without risk of giving away his secret. And he couldn’t do that, not now that he knew Chan was one of them. The silence between them felt weighted and awkward.

“Yeah.” Chan nodded and smiled. “As you can see, I was appointed as an enforcer today.” Chan turned to show off the badge, smiling so widely like he was ecstatic, and he probably was. Minho couldn’t blame him for that. 

“I didn’t know you could use magic.” It was the first thing to pop into his mind and honestly a question he wanted an answer to.

Chan frowned, cocking his head. “You didn’t? I thought for sure you knew. My dad is the current general.”

Minho’s eyes widened at the news, chest tightening with an indescribable feeling. He couldn’t believe this. Chan came from a long line of enforcers. He used magic. He was everything Minho had wanted in a partner and in a matter of seconds the perfect fantasy world he had created came crashing down around him.

Minho swallowed thickly, fighting back the urge to cry. “I didn’t know.” 

“Oh. Well now you do, I guess.” Chan shrugged. “Cool right? Also, thanks for coming to my celebration.”

“Y-Your celebration?!” As if this couldn’t get any worse. This entire party was to celebrate Chan becoming an enforcer. This was devastating. 

“Yeah! When I told Jungkook, he insisted on throwing-” Chan paused, eyeing Minho carefully. “Are you okay, Min?”

Minho felt like the world was spinning and he was going to pass out at any given moment. There was just too much information to process and it felt like the universe was out to get him. “I have to go.” Dropping his cup on the counter, Minho turned and made a hasty exit out of the kitchen and the house, ignoring Chan’s call for him to come back. There was no way Minho could go back and face him. He was nothing but a bundle of emotions now - a swirling mass of negativity the likes he had never felt before.

It was horrible. There was an icky heavy feeling washing over him - his limbs feeling heavy with each step he took. It almost felt like a pressure building and looking for a way to escape, and Minho would be more than happy to release it from his body. Glancing down at his hands - where were feeling a bit tingly - he stopped dead in his tracks, shocked at what he saw. The tips of his fingers were oozing an inky blackness that he had only seen happen  once before.

“Shit. Not now.” he whined, trying to wipe his hands clean, but of course that did nothing. He couldn’t just wipe away magic so easily. Worried, Minho looked around, taking in his surroundings. While it wasn’t busy out, the sidewalk was still occupied by a good number of passersby, all of which posed a threat to Minho. His heart raced as he tried to figure out what his next move should be, because there was no way he could stay out in the open with black magic oozing from his fingers.

Doing a once over again, Minho spotted and alley opening and quickly ducked inside. He needed to figure out a way to get home without being seen because he was absolutely sure he wouldn't be able to wrangle in his magic - not with the whirlwind of emotions currently coursing through him. The side of town he was currently on was one he was familiar with - thankfully - but he had never traversed the back alleys before. He had no idea which alley connected to the next or if any of them could lead him back to his apartment. But he had to try and figure it out. The longer he remained outside, the higher the risk of being caught became.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Minho started down the alleyway, vigilant of his surroundings. The further he moved in, the darker it became. It unnerved him how the light from the streets on either end couldn’t seem to penetrate the darkness of the place. It was quite eerie and if Minho wasn’t so worried about his life, he probably would have turned tail and ran.

“Get away from me! Stop!” Minho froze at the cry, blood running cold. It came from right in front of him and Minho was terrified to take another step forward. Yet something inside him was telling him that he needed to go investigate - to help whoever was in trouble. It was an absurd idea and yet his feet carried him onward as if on autopilot and the horrific scene he came across was sickening to bear witness to. There were two men, one on the ground - probably the man that had begged for his life. The other man hovered over the fallen man, a dark aura surrounding him. It had Minho shivering and he could feel the dark energy within him reaching out, trying to merge with it. 

Another dark magic user. 

A companion…

Minho shook his head, focusing on pulling his magic back. He couldn’t let them combine. He wasn’t like that - didn’t want to use his magic to hurt innocent people. That wasn’t the type of person he was! But he also wasn’t the type of person to stick his nose in situations that didn’t involve him. However, could he really turn the other cheek and just pretend that he hadn’t seen this? If this man died, mentally and emotionally his blood would be on Minho’s hands. And despite how strong he believed he was, Minho wasn’t sure he could live with that knowledge. In a split second decision Minoh thrust his hand forward, expelling the black magic that, up until now, had been dying to be set free. The force of the expulsion sent the attacker flying back - knocking him into the concrete wall a few feet away. A heavy tension filled the air as he waited for the man to get back up.

He didn’t. 

In fact, he didn’t move at all and Minho feared maybe he had somehow killed the guy. “Oh shit.” he whispered, already taking a few steps closer.

“Don’t!” The warning gave Minho pause and he turned his attention to the man he had just saved. In the dim lighting of the alleyway Minho couldn’t really make out any features, though he sounded young - probably around Minho’s  age or younger. The survivor’s attention was still focused on his attacker, however, and Minho turned back towards the fallen man, ready to go help despite the warning he had been given. But the man’s body was gone.

“What the hell?”

“Black magic.” Well yeah. Clearly the man had been a black magic user. But that honestly wasn’t a great excuse for the disappearance. Minho was pretty sure that all magic users had the ability to disappear - teleport in a way. It seemed a little stereotypical to just group that magical action with black magic users, even if he was correct about this particular situation. Minho wanted to be upset- outraged even, but as the anger was bubbling up inside him, the other man finally got up and walked over to him. “Thank you.”

It felt like a punch to the gut while simultaneously all the energy had been zapped out of his body. Now up close, Minho could out the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever had the pleasure of staring at. Adorable chubby cheeks also adorned his equally adorable looking face. Minho was sure he had been correct in his assumption that this guy was young. He was young and beautiful and Minho had the passing thought of wondering if he was single. 

“My name’s Jisung.” The handsome man - Jisung - introduced himself and Minho became extremely aware of the awkward staring he was doing. Blinking rapidly a few times, Minho cleared his throat, the tips of his ears heating up slightly. 

“Minho.” 

Jisung smiled. “Well Minho, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Wish it was under different circumstances.” 

“Likewise.” Minho looked Jisung over again, trying to get a better sense of the person standing before him, but could hardly make out anything in the dark alleyway. “So what exactly did I stumble upon?”

“Upset patron.” Jisung laughed as if he hadn’t just been moments away from dying. 

“That sucks. Guess he’ll be leaving a bad yelp review.” Minho joked and Jisung laughed once more. “Are you okay, though?” It was probably something that he should have asked earlier.

“Me?” Jisung asked and Minho wanted to roll his eyes. That was such a stupid question, but he held his tongue. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he confirmed with a shrug.

“Oh, good.” A blanket of awkwardness fell over them and Minho wasn’t sure what to do to fix it. It was a new situation that he never thought he would be in, so he was a little socially inapt with how to deal with it. It’s not like this was a movie and now that he saved someone’s life, they’re going to fall madly in love and live happily ever after. In fact, it was probably better that they parted ways and never see each other again. There was less of a risk of being found out that way. Minho was just thankful that Jisung hadn’t seemed to notice the type of magic he used.

“Well, this is awkward.”

Was this guy inside his head?! As far as Minho knew, there weren’t any minder readers. That wasn’t a power that even existed. Maybe it was just a coincidence? 

“Yeah.” Another lame answer, but words were failing him at the moment.

“Well, I hate to cut this short, but I should get going.” Jisung flashed him a smile. “Thank you again for saving me, Minho. Maybe one day I’ll be able to return the favor.”

“Yeah, hopefully not, but maybe.” Minho agreed. Taking a few steps back, Minho gave a slight bow and Jisung returned it. “Bye Jisung.”

“See ya.”

Minho took his heave first, exiting the alleyway only to realize how late it was. The streetlights were on and the road barren save for a random car passing every now and again. And despite the darkness, the air outside was hot and humid. 

Disgusting.

And the black magic still swirling inside him only added to that disgusted feeling. It was way too wound up and excited after coming across another black magic user. He hated how sick it made him feel and once more Minho was cursing his birth givers. He couldn’t even call them his parents because they gave him up at birth and cursed him with the life he had now. He hated it - hated them. Everything wrong in his life was their fault. He couldn’t only hope they were already dead, otherwise if he ever met them -

He paused, shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts. That was a dark train he went on and definitely not who he was. The influence of the black magic was starting to get to him. He needed to get home as soon as possible so he could safely expel it before he did something he’d regret. Minho had spent far too long concealing himself to let it all go to waste because of a heroic good deed.

-----

3 months, 15 days and 5 hours. That’s how long it’s been since the incident in the alleyway and since then, Minho has been constantly running into Jisung. It was strange, because he had never seen the squirely boy before and Minho liked to think that he was decently social. Sure he didn’t have many close friends - none really - but he knew a lot of people and got invited to a lot of events and parties and Jisung had never been someone he’d crossed paths with before. It was almost comical how frequently Minho saw the other, so it was only inevitable they started to hang out. Jisung was a decent guy and very easy to get along with. Dare he even think that Jisung was his “person”.

And maybe it was this blossoming friendship that distracted Minho. Kept him focused on a future he wanted and not the life he was living. Maybe he would have noticed sooner, the issue bubbling just under the surface. Maybe he could have prevented it from happening.

Maybe…

Stupid! He was so stupid! Minho should have known better than to stay out when he was feeling so bad. It wasn’t like this was the first time his powers got out of control, though maybe it would be his last. The thought terrified him, but not as much as the enforcers that were chasing him.

“Stop Minho!” Chan shouted from behind and Minho probably would have stopped if it weren’t for the beam of magic that went flying past him, just barely missing him. “Don’t make this harder for yourself!”

“Oh yea. Because giving up would be so much easier!” Minho sassed. He yelped as another beam was shot at him, nicking his calf and causing him to stumble. His legs gave out from under him, body collapsing as he tried to catch his breath. Everything hurt - his eyes were crossing and his ears were ringing as the world spun. A shadow loomed over him and panic coursed through his body. He tried to scramble to his feet, but pain shot up his leg, stopping him.

“I told you to just stop.” Chan’s once sweet voice was hardened, sharp. Minho held back the whimper that tried to crawl out of his throat. A foot pressed against his side and with a hard nudge he was unceremoniously kicked onto his back. “Tears won’t help an abomination like you.” Minho wasn’t even aware he had been crying. His heart shattered into pieces as the hurtful words washed over him. This wasn’t Chan. Chan was sweet and kind and wouldn’t hurt a fly. However, Chan was also an enforcer and as painful as it was to admit, Minho knew that there had to be a small piece of malice in him. It was the only reasoning he could come up with as to why Chan could be this mean and hateful to someone who was different.

“Please.” he whispered, almost begging, but all he was greeted with was a hateful stare and Chan’s glowing hand.

“You know how this has to end. I’m sorry.”

Minho didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. Chan wasn’t sorry because if he was, he would do this. Or at least that’s what Minho told himself. “Chan please!” he begged once more, the tears falling faster. And for a brief moment there was a sense of hesitation. And Mino seized the opportunity. Black smoke like tendrils crept forth from his fingers and he grabbed Chan’s ankle. His magic shot up through Chan’s leg, wrapping around his limbs and constricting. Chan shouted in pain and Minho watched as black veins began to spread over the pale skin, slowly taking over. The sight pained Minho, but nonetheless he climbed to his feet, calf throbbing in pain.

“M-Minho.”

“I’m sorry Chan. I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled as he fought back his sobs. He knew the magic wouldn’t kill Chan - he could never go that far - but it would keep him at bay for now. He turned and started running, though slowed down by his wounded leg. Every stretch of the muscle felt like searing hot iron was being pressed into his skin. It was horrible. But still he pressed on, knowing that if he stopped he would die. Sirens began to blare across the city, shivers rushing down his spine. Minho had only ever heard stories of those sirens being sounded. 

He knew what they meant.

Minho made a beeline for the nearest dense foliage. He wasn’t sure if it would lead out of the city or just provide a place to lay low for a while, but it didn’t matter. The longer he was out in the open, the more danger he was in. He got about half way there when he heard the shouts and the ball of magic began whizzing by him.

“Fuck, fuck.” he cursed, looking around for any sort of safety. He wasn’t sure what caught his attention, but for some reason he happened to look over at a store front and there, peeking out of the door was Jisung, waving to him. If this had been any other situation, maybe Minho would have second guessed the other’s appearance. As it was, this was a life or death situation and Minho preferred to live.

Changing course, Minho ran to Jisung, slipping through the open door and coming to a crashing halt against the front counter. Bent over, Minho panted as he watched with weary eyes as Jisung locked and secured the door. When he turned around, Minho’s entire world came crashing to the ground as his eyes landed on the starburst patch on his right shoulder sleeve. “No, no…God please no!” he begged, stumbling backwards as he tried to put more distance between himself and Jisung.

“Min, wait.” Jisung held up his hands in surrender, taking a step or two closer. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” Minho wanted to believe him, he really did, but there was just too much hurt and betrayal in his heart. He had thought he was friends enough with Chan that the other wouldn’t attack him like had. But he had been so clearly wrong. Their relationship had clearly meant nothing to the older man. And now he had discovered the one person he considered his best friend was also an enforcer, he just couldn’t take it. Everything was falling apart and Minho was powerless to stop it.

“Please, Jisung,” he whispered. “I can’t do this. Not with you. I trusted you.”

“And you can still trust me!” The sincere earnestness in his voice called to Minho and all he wanted to do was hug Jisung. He needed Jisung. Biting his bottom lip, Minho caved and walked closer. If this was a trick and he died, then so be it, but he just needed one last moment of happiness. Jisung smiled and closed the gap between, taking Minho into a tight hug. Minho broke down and buried his face into Jisung’s shoulder as he sobbed. “It’s gonna be alright, hyung.”

“How?” Minho pulled back and stared at Jisung - cheeks red and splotchy, stained with his tears. “They’re trying to kill me, Sungie! All because…because…” he trailed off, eyes going blank and unfocused as he stared off behind Jisung.

“You use black magic.” Jisung finished and Minho nodded numbly. “I never would have guessed.”

“I never wanted you or anyone else to know.” Minho whispered. “I hate this, curse to be hunted. I tried so hard to just use my white magic, but sometimes,” he sniffled and reached up to wipe away his tears. “Sometimes I just can’t control it.”

“You use both?” Jisung asked incredulously. Once again, Minho nodded solemnly. Jisung was silent for a moment, looking Minho over. It seemed whatever debate he was having internally, he came to a decision as he pulled back completely from Minho. He reached into his pocket and pulled his keys. “Here.” he said as he pressed them to Minho’s chest.

“What?” Minho frowned.

“My care is out back. Take it and leave this place.”

“Jisung? I can’t. They’ll see me and m-my cats!”

“I’ll distract them.” Jisung grabbed Minho’s arm and guided him to the back door. “And don’t worry about your cats, I’ll take care of them. Just go.”

Minho pulled his arm free and glared at the other. “Why are you doing this?”

Jisung could only smile as he opened the back door. “Returning the favor.” With that, he shoved Minho out the door and closed it, leaving him standing there stupefied. Only a few moments later he could hear Jisung out front, gathering the enforcers and leading them in the opposite direction. This was his chance and despite the craziness that just happened, he wasn’t going to lose it. Turning, Minho ran to the car and got in. Starting it, he carefully made his way out of the alley and to the back roads that would lead out of the city - his heart still racing and now full of hope.

Until we meet again. Thank you, Jisung.

Tags: @sauceracha @jisungsjheekies @luminouskalopsia @hanjisungismybaby @imbonibi @jiwlys @leafsmindpalace @army-of-carats @peachmilkcloud @letterstoskz @lauraneuuh @babyskz @stay-here-dont-stray @meen1ez @slinekyu @feedthefandoms995 @schokoshaker @rejemi @ahhhhhhhhhghh @thsrndkd @halotopicecream @skzmonster @jumunnaa @serendipityryn @yayaistime @sachifukyo @eastleighsblog @hydrawaterdragon @3rachasninja @haileybugulug @luvyev

With a weakened attempt to throw a punch at his attacker, Dave would find himself thrown to the ground just seconds later with a bone cluttering thump. 

"You don't have to do this. Please, I can save you" The man, Rupert, his old friend turned mortal enemy, pleads with him. 

"S-s… Save me from what?" Dave coughs in his hand. Cautiously, not bothering to get up yet. "I don't need saving" 

"Yes. You do. Please. Look at what they did to you" 

Of course, he did look different from the time his friend last saw him years ago but that can hardly be a bad thing here. In actuality, it was a good thing. He never felt more alive and for once, in his miserable life didn't express guilt over it. 

"I know what they did to me" Dave replies, as he regains the confidence in his words when he eyes the other man. "And for your record, I'm fine with it, happy as a clam actually. I agreed to join them" 

The hurt on Rupert's face would've made his will crumble apart however Dave stayed firm and adamant, continuing on, "How can I not when I was left behind. Forgotten about and told I was useless when I was there"  

Whatever snapped in Rupert got the soldier to focus directly on him, seething anger and pride getting the better of him. 

Like always the man doesn't know when to quit without fail, Dave silently mused. 

"I never forgot about you! I-I kept on fighting for you when no one else would!" Rupert argued. 

"You say that now. But where was that fight? The fire in your stomach back then? When I was being pushed around constantly on the force and where were you when I got fired? Then at that lousy job at the museum. You never bothered to contact me" 

As Dave picks himself up from the floor, he is finally able to speak his mind, it's clear, blunt, and it does the great trick, cutting through the unashamed bullshit. Despite the sharp turn in events, not the type to scold, or get ahead of himself, once more he finds enjoyment in the power given. If in his old friend's eyes he is a husk to who he once was that was quite fine by him. While he dusted off the musky grime got a better look at the man, furthermore he saw the regretful anguish. 

"... I tried…" 

"But it wasn't enough" Dave persists, taking a step forward, an urge he never experienced taking the lead. Smoothing out his fine, dark gray suit, afterwards he waves his hands in indignation. "You should've tried years ago. When I needed you the most. I cared about you yet you never said or did the same for me. Why should I hold onto that hope like you claim?" 

"Well, what do you think I'm trying to do now, then?!" Rupert hissed in reply, argumentative in the face of danger. "I tried, I really did and still do. That's why I'm here. To find you and now that I did. I'm taking you with me. They must've brainwashed you or something! I'm here to help" 

"They didn't do such a thing and I don't need your help. You can't and will not act out on a holier-than-thou savior complex either" 

Dave Panpa needed no saving by anyone; he was a grown man, truth be told, capable in making his own decisions, who somehow had the power all along to pave a road for him alone. He's more than happy with the Toppats, a place that he finally belongs in and brings comfort. Nothing was going to change that in the slightest.

Not even his best friend. The man is as stubborn as the first day they met. 

"... If you won't let me help you and you're going to be like this… Then I'll just have to arrest you…" 

Raised a brow in skepticism Dave shook his head until hand firmly stopped him, grabbing at his arm. "Go ahead, I want you to know it won't end well" Slowly he turned to face the other, a vague threatening suggestion slips out his thin lips. "Even if you had the guts to arrest me anyways" He won't back down nor does he think Rupert would neither. So he's quick to land a fist squarely at the soldier's jaw, causing the man to stumble backwards, nearly onto his ass. A rough hand clasped on a scruffy face, literal agony washes over the shorter man and had looked over in shock.

"Y-you... You!" 

Dave hadn't gone too far.

Soon they were fighting again, but this turned physical with no restraint. Unlike his past self, he now had plenty of experience. He won't let it slide, able to land a couple punches along in some kicks thrown in the mix. Until he got the upperhand where Rupert harshly landed on his back. The soldier's weapon is swept a few feet away from reach whereas his is tight in hand. 

Surprisingly, his hand began to shake, in a sudden unwilling to move and pull the fated trigger when aimed at the man. 

"You. Y-you won't shoot me, would you?" 

In his hot shame, a part in his heart couldn’t and longed to be what they once were that Dave acknowledges is long gone, "Yes. If it means getting to be free" 

"You can't. Like you said, I know you better then anyone" Rupert didn't move an inch, he instead deciding to stay put, using his arms to push up. Stern eyes glares into his soul, pratically begs for a second chance, it was yet another weak attempt to help, "Please... Let me help yo-"

Bang! 

Until his shame, as well, as other emotions like guilt dissipates. He witnessed the dusty ash stains his clammy hand holding the gun, rests at his side. Dave breaths in deep then exhales, his clean hand dutifully wipes away the beads of disgusting sweat. In his caution and curiosity, he stares at the blood pooling around the fallen man's head. 

He shouldn't feel remorse. Rather he cracked a broken smile, hand covered up his stricken face, and fresh tears drips. He already saved himself, didn't he? So why doesn't he feel good? 

“God…It’s really slow today.” Jared complained. 

Shaun looked in Jared’s general direction as if he had 3 heads. “I don’t understand what you mean.” Shaun admitted. 

“There’s no one here. It’s quiet.” Jared told him. “We are in the office. Of course it’s quiet.” Shaun added. 

“No no no…” Jared sighed and rubbed his nose. “I mean the hospital is emptier than usual. There aren’t many patients and our next surgery isn’t for another 2 hours.” Jared told him. 

Shaun went quiet as he listened to the hallways for any sound. The only thing he could hear was the occasional nurse walking by. There were no blaring machines, no wailing children, and no TV’s on. It was quite silent. 

“That’s odd.” Shawn told him. 

“It really is. I don’t know how much more of the silence I can take.” Jared admitted. 

Shawn listened for anything else coming from the hallways. He can’t really hear anything besides a couple footsteps far up the hallway. Shawn listened to the footsteps. “Have you seen Dr. Melendez?” Shawn asked. 

“Not since we came here.” Jared admitted. 

Shaun nodded and checked through the duotang of patient files. The medical history, the most recent test information, and the blood work results were in it. Shaun flipped through the patient files one by one. “Hey Jared, did-” Shaun gave Jared a poke. 

“oOHGOD-” 

Shaun paused his words and looked at Jared with confusion. Jared was holding the sides of his ribs as he looked at Shaun with slight embarrassment. 

“...Did you see she has an iron deficiency?” Shaun finished his sentence. 

“I-Yes. Yes, I did.” Jared replied. 

“And she is taking medication for the iron deficiency.” Shaun added, lowering his finger and hand down to his own lap.  

“She could just need the medication upped a bit. That’s all.” Jared replied. 

Shaun nodded. “I know. Why did you make that sound?” Shaun asked. 

“What sound?” Jared said, acting dumb. 

“You said ‘oh god’.” Shaun replied, using his normal voice to ‘imitate’ Jared. 

“I…Okay, yeah…I did. But for good reason.” Jared admitted. 

“Why?” Shaun asked. 

“Because you scared me.” Jared replied. 

Shaun blinked. “Does poking make someone say ‘Oh God’?” Shaun asked. 

“If they’re jumpscared, then yes.” Jared replied. 

Shaun looked down at his hands, and slowly made a fist with his index finger sticking out. He looked over to Jared straight on, and lifted up his finger. “Where did I poke you?” Shaun asked. 

Jared widened his eyes and covered his ribs again. “My ribs! All you did was poke my ribs.” Jared told him, blushing slightly. 

“Did I tickle you?” Shaun asked. 

“Why would I tell you that?” Jared asked back. 

“Because it would explain why you said ‘Oh god’.” Shaun told him. 

“No it wouldn’t. You’re just gonna tickle me if I say yes.” Jared replied. 

“So it did tickle.” Shaun replied. 

“Yes! Okay?! It tickled. Happy?” Jared finally replied. 

Shaun lowered his finger down, and looked back at the patient file. “Okay.” Shaun said before picking up the file. Jared visibly relaxed as Shaun focused more on the files than on his ticklishness. He did NOT want Shaun to find out how ticklish he was. Because if he did, who knows how many people he’ll blurt it out to! 

Jared sighed and closed his eyes. 

*poke* 

Jared just about jumped 20 feet in the air! “GAHA!” Jared fell right onto the floor in surprise. “Shahaun!” Jared yelled, grabbing the bottom of the chair. 

Shaun smiled a bit and lowered his index finger. “I scared you again.” He declared before turning back to the file. 

Jared got up and sat down on the seat. But Jared didn’t visibly relax this time. Because the last time he did, Shaun scared him again. And he did NOT want to be caught off guard again. 

“Hey Shaun-” 

*poke*

“OhGEEZ- Shaun!” Jared yelled, poking Shaun’s ribs right back with 2 fingers instead of 1. “How does that feel?” Jared reacted. 

Shaun was giggling and curling his body away from Jared’s fingers. “Hehehehehe- Jared.” Shaun said. 

“Doesn’t feel very good, does it?” Jared teased. 

Shaun started poking Jared back, making sure to poke in the belly and ribs. While he was, he was able to imagine the general human’s inner abdominal area, and zoom in to show the many nerve endings in those particular spots. 

Jared was snickering often and guffawing occasionally as he struggled to gain the upper hand. “Shahahaun! BAHAAA! HAHAHAHA! NOTFAHAIR!” Jared yelled. 

“You hahave mahany free nerve endings ohon yohour behehelly.” Shaun explained, still giggling from Jared’s pokes back. Shaun grabbed Jared’s wrists and held them together with his left hand in front of him, while his right hand tickled his lower ribs. “Your somatosensory receptors are reacting to every touch I create with my fingers against your ribs. And the free nerve endings on your ribs and skin are sending signals up your spine, to the somatosensory cortex located in the parietal lobe of your brain.” Shaun explained. 

“Ihihihi KNOHOHOHOW THAHAHAT!” Jared yelled. 

Shaun stopped tickling so he could poke the upper back area of Jared’s scalp. “It is roughly here.” Shaun told him. 

“IHIhihi knohow thahahat tohohohoo.” Jared replied, slowly calming down. 

Shaun looked at Jared, almost staring at his ribs for a few moments. It was like he was scanning Jared’s body for more ticklish spots. But, of course, Shaun can’t do that. He’s a human, not a robot.

Or…so he’s convinced us to believe…

Jared was breathing somewhat calmly as he watched Shaun stare at him. He looked at his own hands. “Shaun…are you going to let-” 

Shaun suddenly dropped Jared’s hands. 

Jared let out a sigh of relief and moved his hands behind himself to push himself up. “Thank you. Now we- WAH- HEHEHEHEY! WAHAHAIT, NOHOHOHOHOHO!” Jared yelled suddenly, interrupting himself and flopping onto his own back as he instinctively grabbed Shaun’s hands. “HAHAHAHAHAhahahaha!” 

Shaun was smiling with his teeth now, looking almost excited as he tickled him somewhat mercifully. “You’re ticklish. You’re ticklish. You’re very ticklish. You’re so ticklish. You’re ticklish. You’re ticklish. You’re ticklish. Jared’s ticklish.” Shaun kept repeating over and over again as he kept tickling his ribs and belly. 

“Stahahahap repeheheheating thahat! Ihihihi knohohow Ihi’m tihihicklihihish!” Jared admitted, now wrapping his arms around himself to hide his ribs. But this just encouraged Shaun to tickle his belly instead. 

“You’re ticklish. You’re ticklish. You’re ticklish. You’re really ticklish. You’re ticklish.” Shaun kept repeating. His hands were dancing all over Jared’s belly, unable to contain any of the excitement. 

It was hard to tell if this was just a burst of excitement, or if this was Shaun’s way of teasing him. And unfortunately for Dr. Kalu, the ‘teasing’ worked wonders on him. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOP! IHIHIHI’VE NEHEHEHEVER SEHEEN YOHOHOU LIHIHIKE THIHIS BEHEHEFOHOHORE!” Jared admitted. 

“You’re ticklish. He’s ticklish. Claire, look! He’s ticklish. Jared’s ticklish.” Shaun said, looking towards the door. 

Jared took a quick peek over to the person at the door, and just about died of embarrassment. Claire was standing right there, watching with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Apparently she was unable to fathom the reaction Shaun was giving him either. 

Jared moved his hands behind himself and tried to push himself up. “Lehet mehe-” 

“Jared is ticklish. See?” Shawn looked at Jared and tickled his now-vulnerable ribs. Jared’s balance completely broke and he flopped right onto his back again. “NOHOHOHOHOhohoho!” Jared laughed. 

“Oookay…Shaun.” Claire said. 

Shaun looked at Claire again, immediately stopping his tickle attack on Jared. “Yes?” Shaun replied, putting his hands together in front of his ab muscles like he usually does. “Maaaaybe this isn’t the place to be tickling people.” Claire explained. 

Shaun nodded as he stood up and walked a few feet away from Jared. “Okay.” He replied, sitting down on his chair again. 

Claire sighed and walked up to Jared. “Need some help up?” she asked. 

Jared nodded and took her hand. Claire, with quite a bit of strength, managed to pull Jared up onto his feet. But the moment Jared was on his feet, Claire started tickling his ribs. “Now don’t think you’re getting away without being tickled.” Claire teased. 

“BAHAHahahaha! Whahahat?! Clahahahaire! Hahahahaha- dohohon’t!” Jared reacted, struggling to once again cover up his ribs with his arms. 

Shaun looked at Claire with confusion. “You just said ‘maybe this isn’t the place to tickle people’.” Shaun told her. 

“That’s right.” Claire replied. 

“Then why are you tickling Jared?” Shaun asked. 

“Because I know Jared a lot better than you do, Shaun.” Claire replied. 

Shaun was confused as to what Claire meant by that, but decided to ignore it…for now. Maybe later he would ask Claire about their relationship. Shaun decided to look back at the patient files, and look for anything they may have missed before they do the surgery. 

“Shahahaun’s tihihicklihihish tohohoo.” Jared told her. 

“Oh reeeaaally?” She teased, looking at Shaun. 

Shaun widened his eyes for just a moment, and narrowed them together again as he went back to reading. 

[Family history: Diabetes, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Osteoarthritis, colitis, Crohn's disease-] 

“aaAACK!” Shaun shouted as he lost his focus and dropped the folder so he could hug his sides. 

Claire bursted out laughing at Shaun’s reaction almost right away, before turning Shaun’s chair. With Shaun’s body now facing her, Claire skittering her fingers all over Shaun’s sides again. “You ARE ticklish! Jared was right!” Claire reacted. 

Shaun doubled over and chuckled, trying to push Claire’s hands away. But everytime he pushed one hand away, the other hand would return to tickle him some more. It was a never ending battle between a determined surgical resident against a ticklish surgical resident. 

“Hahaha! Ohokay, ihi’m ticklihihish. Yohohou gohohot mehe to lahaugh. Tihihime to stohohop.” Shaun told her. 

Claire nodded and stopped her fingers. She sat down and watched as Shaun calmed down from the tickles. He shivered as the phantom tickles continued to plague him. “My nerves are tingly and…strange.” Shaun admitted. 

“It’s called phantom tickles, Shaun. It’s where your body feels phantom tickly sensations even after the fingers have been removed.” Claire explained. 

Shaun got up onto his feet, grabbed her hands, and placed them onto his own sides. “It felt nice. I like it.” Shaun told her. 

“You…You like it?” Claire gave his side a poke, and watched as Shaun jerked and giggled. 

“Hehehehe!” He started nodding his head as a blush showed up on his face. 

Claire was unsure what to do. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to tickle Shaun. She was too afraid to overdo it. She looked to Jared for guidance, but Jared just shrugged his shoulders and signaled for her to continue. “If he enjoys it, then why not?” Jared told her. 

Claire slowly started to tickle Shaun’s sides again. And naturally, Shaun reacted with wiggles and small fits of laughter. “Ihihi’m tihicklish! Ihihi’m tihihicklihihish! Ihi’m reheally ticklihihish!” Shaun started to repeat over and over again. 

“Here comes the excitement.” Jared warned with a smirk. “To think he’s been hiding this part of him from us for so long.” Jared added. 

“I can’t believe he has this much energy in him!” Claire admitted. 

Eventually, Jared walked up to the door and closed it. He locked it, closed the blinds and cracked his knuckles as he walked to Shaun. With everything all ready, Jared started tickling Shaun too. 

The two residents tickled him for about 10 minutes. Though, the residents kept on stopping in case any of those footsteps in the hallway were going to stop at their room. When the footsteps moved past the room, Jared and Claire would resume tickling once again. They knew it was somewhat risky of them to be doing this. But Shaun and Claire knew each other well. Claire and Jared knew each other too. And now, Jared and Shaun were getting to know each other better.