#pgohn

--

“Tell me what happened.”

Sehyuk stiffens, just a bit. “What do you mean?”

“Look, Sehyuk,” James says, sitting on the edge of Sehyuk’s desk, “I know something had to have happened. You haven’t told me anything at all about what you used to do, you just told me you were into some bad stuff and then moved over here. But, like… it had something to do with Dongsung, didn’t it?”

Sehyuk sighs, closing his textbook begrudgingly. “God. I didn’t want to tell you because I still have to spend two more years with you and I didn’t want you to think I was… I don’t know. A monster.”

James looks offended. “Do you think I’m that much of an ass that I’d write you off just on your past? Tell me what happened, I wanna know.”

Sehyuk takes a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. “There’s sects over here, right?”

“In some of the big cities, yeah.”

“I was the leader of one, one of the… not biggest, but most famous ones in Seoul.”

“Holy shit, dude.”

“And I was a shitty leader,” Sehyuk says, with the intent to squash down any awe James might be holding. “Dongsung… god, I don’t want to tell you what I did to Dongsung.”

“Well, better now than later. Might as well just say it.” James is quiet for a moment, then he sighs and says, “Come on, man, really. I’m not going to think less of you for anything you did like, what, fifty thousand years ago.”

Sehyuk smiles, barely. “I destroyed him. I did things to him that I shouldn’t have and stripped him down into the ideal person that I wanted at the time. He protected me, kept me safe. For a long while he was… all I had, and when he slipped away I panicked and ruined things even more. Sorry doesn’t cover anything I’ve ever done to him but he still accepts it, he still…” Sehyuk trails off, pressing his fingertips to his eyelids to ward off tears. “I ruined his fucking life and he still loves me.”

“Is that why you cried, then?” James ask, then clarifies. “I mean, when he texted you ‘I love you’ a couple months ago. You were a mess, dude.”

Sehyuk nods, laughing. “Yes, that’s why. I couldn’t believe it, I mean- I suspected, I suspected that he was still… not right. That’s the only reason why he feels like this, still, and I’m sure of it. Give him some years and he’ll be over it, he’ll- he’ll remember why he wanted to kill me in the first place and we’ll be done again.” Sehyuk lets his hands fall away from his face, staring up at the ceiling instead of at James. “Maybe that’s best.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but you’ve got this for now. You’re going back to Korea to see him next month, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I promised him I would, and I don’t want to disappoint him anymore than I already have throughout the years.”

James is silent, thoughtful. “Did you mean to?” He asks, eventually. “Did you mean to ruin him?”

“Oh, definitely, at the time.” Sehyuk replies, and the words seem far too casual to his ears. “I had unrealistic expectations of what my sect members should do and be for me. I shoved Dongsung into that mold and he filled it out perfectly within a few years. And I feel so fucking bad.”

“What was he like, before? Do you remember?”

“Mean.” Sehyuk taps his fingers on the edge of the desk, trying to remember, thinking back to the young man with the bright blonde hair, fire burning in his eyes. “Loud, and inappropriate. A good cook. He tried to kill me the second day he was there… I told him myself to kill me within the first month he was there. He didn’t do it either time, as you can see.”

“Mmhm. And… what is he like now? I mean, I’ve talked to him before when you’ve been on call with him, but I just… y’know.”

Sehyuk can’t even think of the words to describe it, too many he could say sitting in the back of his throat. “Sweet,” he settles on, at least for starters. “Devoted. To me, the wrong person. He’s… happy, he’s happy. And I don’t know how he is when I’m still here, in his life.”

“Maybe it’s time to stop wondering those kinds of things,” James offers. “Stop thinking you’re the worst person on planet earth. A man cannot become trash as long as he lives.”

“You stole that from a fucking manga.”

“It serves its purpose, Sehyuk.”

Sehyuk chuckles, holding up a fist. James bumps it with his own. “Thanks, for not killing me.”

“It seems like you got plenty of death threats in the past, you can do without my contribution.”

James goes back to his own work, which proves to actually be texting his girlfriend and not any real work. Sehyuk opens his textbook again, staring at the marked paragraphs that his professor said they all had to read. The ink has smudged into the yellow highlight a little bit.

“I wish I’d never turned out like this,” Sehyuk whispers to himself. James, thankfully, isn’t paying enough attention to hear.

During his flight, Sehyuk reads through his and Dongsung’s conversations.

Sehyuk deleted every single text from everyone when he moved. He kept his number the same but nobody bothered to text or call him, most likely figuring (correctly) that he wouldn’t answer. So, the first text from Dongsung is,

Dongsung: It was nice talking to you tonight I hope we can do it again soon

Sehyuk still remembers it, the awful burning in his chest when James tapped him on the shoulder and told him some dude named Dongsung called you. Beyond that, he remembers seeing Dongsung while he was browsing for a register to check out at, seeing Dongsung with newly cut and dyed hair hidden beneath a hat bearing his company’s name and resolving to talk to him, just once. Sehyuk knew it would have been better, in the end, if he had found another register and left the store without Dongsung ever knowing he’d been there, without him ever knowing that Sehyuk had even been back in Korea. But Sehyuk was very near desperate to know if Dongsung was doing okay, if he was healthy and safe and happy.

Once upon a time, Sehyuk didn’t care about any of that, not even for himself. Now, it’s all he wants for everyone around him. (But maybe still not for himself.)

Their conversations are awkward, clipped, single word responses most of the time. The majority of the messages from the past few months are asking nothing but ‘are you free?’ and ‘can I call you?’.

Conducting most of their conversations over video call is somehow harder for Sehyuk, because even through a grainy camera he can see the way Dongsung looks at him. It… complicates things, to say the least. Sehyuk had no problem with being friends with Dongsung, truly wanted to because he still wants to make sure Dongsung is doing well, but Dongsung loving him twists the knife in deeper for both of them. Even if Dongsung doesn’t know it yet, Sehyuk already does.

Sehyuk knows a lot about Dr. Lee Seoyoung, just from Dongsung. Dongsung goes to a therapist, because of Sehyuk. He tells Seoyoung about the things Sehyuk did to him and how Dongsung is moving on and coping with it. He tells Seoyoung about how him and Sehyuk are friends now. Seoyoung tells him it’s a bad idea. Seoyoung is right.

But Dongsung always did listen poorly before. Sehyuk shouldn’t have expected anything more from him now.

Sehyuk and Dongsung are friends. Sehyuk still has not told Dongsung that he loves him, even though as of recent that’s all Sehyuk can think about. He has always loved Dongsung, and always wanted Dongsung to love him back, but the shred of love that bloomed that night in the market is something Sehyuk put there himself a long time ago. There’s no way that it’s anything but that.

Or, maybe Sehyuk is still dwelling on the revelation that he had when his bravado first split. Stripping all the walls he’d put up to keep people out and to keep himself in check left him with only the fact that he was never deserving of what he thought he was and spent his whole life trying to prove to himself and everyone around him that he was.

Sehyuk almost chuckles when he thinks of what James told him. A man cannot be trash as long as he lives. It’s easier to tell himself that he is than to tell himself that he isn’t.

--

The first thing Dongsung does when he sees Sehyuk is pick him up, easily lifting him into his arms and kissing his cheek as fervently as he can. It honestly scares the shit out of Sehyuk and he scrambles to hold onto Dongsung’s shoulders, laughing nervously.

“I’m so glad you came,” Dongsung says, loud enough that Sehyuk can hear him over the din of the airport lobby.

Sehyuk waits to reply, Dongsung’s hold on him tightening slightly. “I am too,” Sehyuk says eventually. Dongsung’s face lights up with a smile.

Sehyuk is staying at Dongsung’s apartment because Dongsung told him not to bother finding someplace to stay for a month and a half when he could just as easily stay with Dongsung for free. Sehyuk was wary at first, but in the end decided he’d rather not spend his money on housing when he had an offer open for him right fucking there.

Dongsung catches Sehyuk up on what he’s been doing as they drive over, which ends up being not much. Dongsung still works at the same place after two years, he’s friends with Sehyuk’s old friends in the South Sect now due to Yoori, and he talked to Hansol the other day.

Sehyuk offers a briefing of his life in return, talking about tests he passed and failed and his new lab partner and how he’s on the dance team now. Dongsung is absolutely enthralled and calls it exciting. Sehyuk laughs.

Dongsung explains that he has no guest room once they get to his apartment and Sehyuk tells him it’s fine. He’s not opposed to living out of his suitcase for a month and a half, and also not opposed to the couch.

Despite it all, it feels familiar, even though Sehyuk’s never been in Dongsung’s apartment before now. Maybe it’s because of Dongsung himself: bangs grown too long and hanging in his eyes, fingers fidgeting with the edge of his coat, mouth quirking up like he’s about to say something.

They’re things Sehyuk remembers from before. He remembers cutting Dongsung’s hair so it wouldn’t block his view and remembers folding their hands together so Dongsung would stop moving them and remembers telling Dongsung go ahead, dear, say what you want.

It hurts.

--

“Can I…” Dongsung says, almost too quiet for Sehyuk to hear. They’re watching a movie together and Dongsung’s hand is hovering above Sehyuk’s head.

Sehyuk figures that Dongsung wants to pet his hair, so he nods. He was right, and Dongsung sets about stroking Sehyuk’s hair gently, pausing to pull through tangles or rearrange it slightly.

“Your hair is so long now,” Dongsung says simply, twisting a bit of it around his finger. “It looks good on you.”

Sehyuk smiles. “Thank you. James keeps telling me to get it cut.”

“Don’t,” Dongsung whispers.

Sehyuk stays silent, focusing his attention on the movie they managed to catch on TV. It’s some sort of horror flick that Sehyuk thinks he’s seen before. As the heroine is hiding in a closet from the killer, Sehyuk says quietly, “Why don’t you hate me?”

Things stay quiet, for a long while, as the heroine is injured badly and stumbles out of the room. She searches for her love interest, who was shown half-dead in the garage a few shots ago. Dongsung’s fingers pull stray hairs away from Sehyuk’s neck.

“I don’t know,” Dongsung replies eventually. “I- I was sitting here, trying to really think of a reason that would… make sense. … I guess my reason is that I don’t want to.”

The heroine finds her dying lover. She cries. “You should,” Sehyuk murmurs.

“I know.”

The love interest dies with final words on how to defeat the killer. “Why don’t you want to hate me?” Sehyuk asks. “Even- Even if you couldn’t, in any way, you should still want to, I think. So why?”

Dongsung gathers Sehyuk’s hair into his hands, like a ponytail. He holds it for a few moments, then drops it. The surviving characters band together again and work off of aforementioned dead lover’s dying sentiment on how to destroy the axe-wielding serial killer who’s been plaguing them. “Because I don’t have anyone else, Sehyuk. I mean… sure, I have friends, I talk to them and everything, but… even though the circumstances were worth hating, we’ve known each other for long enough that I can’t- I just can’t.”

Dongsung is quiet for a few beats. He starts fiddling with Sehyuk’s hair again. Sehyuk keeps his eyes on the screen. “You want me to hate you. Is that it?”

Sehyuk closes his eyes. They burn, and he’s not sure if it’s hot tears or from lack of blinking. “I do, yes. Not because I don’t want to deal with you, but because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Screaming from the surviving characters. Something that sounds like the rush of a fire. “You won’t.”

“I will.”

“You won’t,” Dongsung repeats firmly. Then, softer, “Were you always like this, on the inside?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sad. Small. Convinced you’re… I don’t know. Convinced you’re worthless.”

Sehyuk bites his bottom lip and wills himself not to tear up. “Yes. Yes, I was. Confidence was always an act, on my part.”

Dongsung seems to bypass everything else he wants to say and instead says, “I love you so much.”

“And that’s because I forced you to,” Sehyuk replies. Dongsung tugs at a bit of hair near the nape of his neck in response.

“Don’t say things like that. It’s because I want to. It’s- It’s because I always have.”

They’re speaking in circles. Sehyuk opens his eyes, and his vision swims, but he can still see the heroic death of one of the main character’s best friends. The serial killer’s house is up in flames. The heroine is still alive. “I’m sorry.”

Dongsung puts his arm around Sehyuk’s shoulders and pulls him closer, tucks him against his side. Sehyuk puts a hand over his face and chokes down a sob. “I’m sorry,” Sehyuk repeats, “for everything, for everything I’ve ever done. I wish I hadn’t, I wish I could take it all back and be- be something better.”

Dongsung kisses the top of Sehyuk’s head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me anymore. You won’t do it again, right?”

Sehyuk does sob, then, hand falling away from his face. He wipes it on his pants. “God, god no. I would never, you- you’re doing so- so well, even… even with me here, me still in your life. I feel so bad.”

Sehyuk curls in on himself, bringing his knees to his chest. “I can’t leave it behind, Dongsung, it’s been almost three years and I still- god, I think about it all every day, every single fucking day. I just want to get over it but I can’t, I’m so…” Sehyuk covers his face with his hands again, trying to stop the flow of tears and failing. “Shitty, I’m so shitty. I’ll never stop being shitty on the inside, Dongsung, I’m so horrible. I could do something horrible again at any moment because it’s what I’m still used to and I’m so scared of that. I’m so scared.”

Dongsung stays quiet, letting Sehyuk’s muffled rambling carry the conversation. He does, however, pull Sehyuk closer.

“I’m sorry,” Sehyuk says again, then adds, “for crying, this time. I’m a mess. Do you want to love a mess?”

“I already do,” Dongsung replies quietly.

Sehyuk takes a deep breath, resting his hands on his knees. The credits are rolling on-screen, names Sehyuk doesn’t recognize. “I love you too. So, so goddamn much.”

Dongsung brushes his hands through Sehyuk’s hair, then takes his face gently in his hands and wipes his eyes with his thumbs. “We’ll be okay,” Dongsung says softly, shifting so he can kiss Sehyuk’s forehead. “I love you.”

Sehyuk nods, snuggling into Dongsung’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh. Don’t be.”

Sehyuk’s not sure if he will feel any better in the long run, but for now, he does.

--

Sehyuk spends three weeks of his time getting over himself, and then he calls Sangdo.

He uses Dongsung’s phone because he’s not sure if Sangdo would pick up if he called from his. Sehyuk stares at the wall as the phone rings, and he kind of wishes Dongsung wasn’t at work right now. He could do with a hand hold, maybe.

“Hello?” Sangdo answers, eventually.

“Hi,” Sehyuk says, meek.

A long stretch of silence, then, “Sehyuk?”

“Surprise,” Sehyuk replies with a weak laugh. “I called from Dongsung’s phone because I didn’t know if you would answer if I called from mine.”

“Holy shit, alright. I- I mean, I would have, but I understand. Uh,” Sangdo is quiet for a moment, “how are you?”

How is he, indeed. “Fine, I suppose. How are you?”

“Alright. Dealing with my ungrateful kids that can’t even take out the trash.” Sangdo laughs, then inhales, shaky. “Where have you been?”

“Has Dongsung not told you?” Sehyuk asks.

“No, he hasn’t told me anything. He told me that he saw you, but that was last year… I didn’t know he kept in touch.”

“Ah, well. I’ve been in America, Sangdo, I- I’m one year away from graduating. From college, I mean.”

“Holy shit,” Sangdo says, and there’s an emotion in his voice that Sehyuk can’t quite place. “Wow, Sehyuk, that’s- god, I’m so proud of you.”

Ah, that’s what it was. “Really?” Sehyuk asks without thinking.

“Yeah! I’ve- I’ve been really worried about you, Sehyuk. I know that sounds silly, taking into account everything you’ve ever done to me, but I- I don’t want you to be unhappy, Sehyuk, I was really hoping you would… do exactly what you did. Clean yourself up and make something of yourself.”

Sehyuk feels a pleasant emotion settling in his chest. He’s not sure what it is. “Well, I’m getting there. I’m- I’m going to be a businessman. I’m doing well in college… I had a job but I lost it a couple months ago, n-not because of me! The diner went under.”

“Aw, man. I’m still- god, Sehyuk, I’m really just… so proud of you.” Sangdo sounds almost a little tearful. “I’d- uh, I’d really love to meet up with you, how long are you going to be in town?”

“For another week or so. Um… this weekend, maybe?”

“Sure! This weekend sounds good.”

--

So, this weekend it is.

Sehyuk asks Dongsung to put his hair up, and he’s surprisingly good at it. Sehyuk can see both his and Dongsung’s reflections in his phone screen and Dongsung looks very content, pulling Sehyuk’s hair up into an artful bun. It seems like Dongsung is going for messy-but-not-too-bad, and Sehyuk likes the way it looks on him.

“Thank you,” Sehyuk says once Dongsung is done. Dongsung leans over to kiss the top of his head and instead of a stab of hurt, Sehyuk feels only fondness.

For all Sehyuk looks nice, Sangdo looks nicer, dressed casually but elegant. After all these years, Sangdo is still better in the end. It’s stopped bothering Sehyuk at last.

Sangdo stands as Sehyuk approaches and, surprisingly, wraps him into a hug, holding him tight to his chest. Sehyuk, for once, hugs him back with just as much intensity.

They sit down and Sangdo looks so thrilled. Sehyuk feels almost the same.

Their conversation is much the same as the one they had the other day, a rehash of their individual lives over sandwiches, which both turn out to be fairly boring. Sehyuk eventually cuts away from the small talk and says, “I- I was wondering if you could pass on a message to your sect,  um- Hyosang, in particular.”

“Mmhm, what is it?”

“Uh… just an apology. Sorry will never suffice, so I’ve got… a lot more to say, but in the end…” Sehyuk looks down at the table. “Just, sorry.”

“Well, you could tell them- him- yourself.” Sangdo says, and Sehyuk feels his eyes grow wide.

“No, no, I- I would never do that to Hyosang, he-”

“He’s fine, Sehyuk.” Sangdo interrupts. “I would have to call ahead, but he- I’m certain he would be able to handle it. Maybe not without a few choice words, but he would.”

Sehyuk inhales. “Could we do it today?”

Sangdo shrugs. “Depends on who’s home. I know Hyosang will be, and chances are Jiho and Hojoon are as well, but Byungjoo is gone most of the time and I have no clue if I’ll be able to get Sanggyun over on such short notice. You know, since he got married, he’s gotten so damn dodgy of parties and dinners and the such.”

Sehyuk snorts. “Just like a young married couple, always absorbed in themselves.”

“Definitely.”

The joking reminds Sehyuk of a time long, long before, when they still talked to one another like this, all smiles and kind words. Sehyuk’s chest aches.

“I’ll call around, then, give me a few minutes.” Sangdo says, already digging his phone out of his pocket.

Sehyuk watches as Sangdo calls various sect members, confirming locations and giving a reason for congregation at the sect house. After a few minutes, Sangdo sets his phone down and sighs.

“Well. Byungjoo didn’t answer, but the rest did and agreed. Sanggyun seemed a little too excited, I think he might have plans to beat your ass.”

There’s a joking edge to Sangdo’s voice. Sehyuk shrugs. “It’s not like I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh, come on. You know he wouldn’t hurt you.”

Sehyuk’s not so sure, but he accepts it.

Thus, Sehyuk ends up sitting in the same place as the last time he was at Sangdo’s house, on the center cushion of the couch closest to the wall, except this time there’s significantly more people.

Sanggyun is the last to arrive, so he is doomed to sit beside Sehyuk. Sehyuk waves slightly at him as he walks in, and Sanggyun fixes him with an even stare. Then, “Will you kill me if I sit on you instead of beside you?”

“Depends on how heavy you are,” Sehyuk says easily, and Sanggyun sits on him. “Jesus. What has Yoonchul been feeding you?”

“Love and kindness,” Sanggyun shoots back. Sehyuk snorts.

“So,” Hojoon begins. Sehyuk leans so he can see around Sanggyun. “The fuck are you here for?”

“To apologize to all of you.” Sehyuk says. His voice echoes a bit in the large room. “I’ve apologized to Sangdo many, many times, but I’ve wronged many more than just him. You’ve all been hurt by either my… desperate acts, or repercussions from my decisions, or direct insults and remarks. And sorry will never cover it, not ever, but it’s better than trying to ignore it and pretend it never happened. So,” Sehyuk pauses to take a breath, “I would appreciate it if you would at least keep an open mind concerning me.”

Surprisingly, Hyosang is the first to speak. “Dude.”

“Yes, dude.” Sehyuk replies, to urge him gently.

Hyosang takes a deep breath. “You’re one of the most fuckin’ vile people I’ve ever met in my goddamn life and yet you’ve got the fuckin’ nerve to sit there and say all this shit. You’re damn fuckin’ right that sorry doesn’t cover it, if- if it hadn’t have been for you, I’d be married right now. I’d be able to get a decent night’s sleep. I’d be able to leave my damn house!”

Sehyuk can’t keep himself from flinching. It’s not like he expected anything but this, but it still settles a heavy, guilty feeling in his chest. Sanggyun moves out of his lap and sits beside him, instead.

“So, if you think,” Hyosang continues after a pause, “that I’m going to forgive you in a million goddamn years, you’ve got to be out of your mind.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” Sehyuk says, and he manages to keep his voice from wavering. “I’m doing this for myself. Like I said, if I had avoided doing this, it would have made me feel like I was pretending I had never done it.”

“You deserve to be reminded every single day just like I am.” Hyosang says darkly.

Sehyuk looks away from Hyosang’s eyes, instead at his cheeks, at the thick scars that creep back towards his ears. “I am.” He replies. “I don’t need your damning because I’ve already condemned myself. I’m never going to be happy.”

“And you don’t deserve to be.”

“Hyosang,” Sangdo says quietly.

“No, you know what? Fuck you, with your pacifist bullshit,” Hyosang says, and Sehyuk’s eyes jump to Sangdo, who looks rather shocked. “Do you know what the fuck he’s done to us? And yet you’re still going to treat him like he fucking matters, like you give a damn about him.”

“Because I do give a damn about him, I’m not going to make him feel even fucking worse when he does enough of that himself.” Sangdo replies, voice rising in volume. “He wanted to apologize and we don’t have to accept it but we can thank him for trying, can’t we?”

Hyosang stands up in response, walking swiftly to the stairs and taking them two at a time. Things grow silent. Sehyuk’s heart is pounding.

“It’s alright,” Sehyuk says after a few long moments. Sangdo looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. “He can be angry at me. I wasn’t expecting any different from any of you.” Sehyuk stands, scanning the room. “Thank you for listening to me, at least. Take care of yourselves.”

“You too, man,” Sanggyun says. “Heard you were going to college, that’s pretty neat.”

Sehyuk smiles. “It is pretty neat. I’ll be gone again in another week or so, however, and I’m not sure if I’ll be coming back. Does anyone else want to say something to me?”

“You look cool with long hair,” Jiho offers. Sehyuk nods in thanks. “And uh… yeah. Take care of yourself.”

Sehyuk waits a few more moments, then waves and starts for the door. Sangdo rises to see him out, smiling apologetically at him as he opens the door.

“Feel free to call me,” Sangdo says, after a moment of deliberation. “I- I promise I won’t let your call bounce.”

Sehyuk laughs slightly. “Thanks. You too, though. My schedule is weird when I’m in the States, but I promise I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“That’s not a problem. Have a good time for the rest of your stay. It was nice seeing you, really.”

Sehyuk nods. “You too.”

--

Sehyuk doesn’t sleep on the couch that night. He blames it on the cold, but really he just feels better in Dongsung’s bed on a rare night where he’s not scheduled for the night shift.

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” Sehyuk whispers as Dongsung rubs circles into his back, holding Sehyuk close to his chest.

“About what?” Dongsung asks.

“About… everything. Loving me, forgiving me, all the things you tell me… they’re not lies to just get me to feel better, are they?”

“I would never do that to you,” Dongsung says, kissing Sehyuk’s forehead gently. “I believe and mean everything I tell you. I love you very, very much.”

Sehyuk nods, pressing the side of his face against Dongsung’s chest. He can hear Dongsung’s heartbeat. “I love you too. I… thank you, for everything.”

“It’s not a problem. Go to sleep, Sehyuk.”

Sehyuk does.

--

It takes another year for Dongsung to move out, for him to feel okay, for him to stop searching, for him to get a job, and for him to remember that the code for a spill is not 546, it’s 564.

And then.

He’s looking down at his hands when someone comes to his register. He was hoping he could make it to break without another customer, but since he’s working the ‘20 items or less’ line tonight, it can’t be that bad.

“Good evening, how are you today?” Dongsung asks conversationally as he flicks the switch to get the conveyer belt to bring the bag of dog food and box of mac and cheese closer to him. He raises his eyes from the items to the person still unloading things from their cart. And his heart sinks.

“I’m fine,” Sehyuk says, after maintaining eye contact for a few beats, “and you look good in that hat.”

Dongsung scans the dog food, heart pounding in his chest. “Thanks. You look good with long hair.”

He catches a glimpse of Sehyuk’s smile as he turns to open up a bag from the carousel and place the dog food in it, putting the mac and cheese in as well. “Do you have a dog now?” Dongsung asks, and Sehyuk shakes his head.

“No, I’m just… in town, visiting Junhee. She asked if I would run some errands for her sect, which consisted of food for all the kids, human or otherwise.” Sehyuk tucks some hair that’s fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear. “Yoori has a daughter now, almost two years old. It’s amazing, it doesn’t feel like I’ve been gone that long.”

Dongsung’s throat feels dry. He’s not sure what to say. “You, uh, you look- ah. Are you, uh-”

He cuts himself off when Sehyuk starts laughing, reserved and behind his hand, but it’s so jarring because it’s genuine. He’s never heard Sehyuk laugh in anything more than scorn or spite, and it’s honestly cute. It brings something to the surface.

“I’m healthy and I’m doing well, if that’s what you were trying to go for.” Sehyuk says, a smile still on his face as Dongsung bags up the rest of his groceries. “How about you?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m… I’m fine, I guess. Uh, your total is 10.27.” Dongsung keeps his fingers from brushing Sehyuk’s when Sehyuk hands over the money.

“You guess?” Sehyuk asks once Dongsung has ripped the receipt free of the machine and handed it to him.

Dongsung nods. “I guess.”

Sehyuk smiles again, stunning. “It was nice seeing you again, Dongsung.” He says, voice soft, fond.

Dongsung bites his bottom lip hard, willing himself to stay silent as Sehyuk puts his bags in his cart. He can’t. “My break is in five minutes,” he breathes, and Sehyuk pauses. “Please, stick around.” Sehyuk opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but Dongsung presses on. “Just once. You said you’re in town, visiting Junhee, so you’ll be gone again soon, right? So just once.”

Sehyuk closes his mouth again, eyebrows coming together. He looks impossibly sad, and it breaks Dongsung’s heart. “Alright. I’ll wait at the front.”

Nobody else comes through his lane in those five minutes, but Dongsung still has to wait until midnight precisely before he can clock out for his fifteen minute break. As soon as he does, he practically runs to the front area, where there’s a couple benches and Sehyuk, sitting on one of them and staring down at his lap.

“Hey,” Dongsung says, mostly to get his attention. The look Sehyuk gives him is almost relieved. It hurts Dongsung to think that, maybe, Sehyuk thought he wouldn’t hold to his word. Dongsung sits down beside him, pushing his cart out of the way slightly so he can slide in behind it. “So… Sehyuk, where have you been?”

Sehyuk sighs, going back to staring at his lap. “America.”

“Really?”

Sehyuk nods. “I… I’m going to college, things are better. I have a job.” He brushes stray hair away from his face, and when his hand falls, Dongsung takes it in his. The weight is familiar, comforting.

Whatever rose earlier bubbles over in the form of tears. “I’ve missed you so much,” Dongsung whispers, holding onto Sehyuk’s hand tightly. “I don’t know why, I’ve just missed you so much.”

Sehyuk leans over onto Dongsung, resting his head on Dongsung’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you too, Dongsung. Despite everything, I feel so alone without you.”

Dongsung half-turns to face Sehyuk, kissing his temple first, then his cheek, then his lips when Sehyuk turns his head. He peppers kisses over as much of Sehyuk’s face as he can, drawing an elated giggle from Sehyuk as Dongsung moves down his neck, finding bumpy skin and kissing it.

“Did I do this, here?” Dongsung asks, sitting up so he can look at Sehyuk’s neck. Yes, there are scars there, lumpy and irregular. Dongsung drags his fingertips over them.

“Ah, yes, and this one too.” Sehyuk lifts his left arm and pushes up his sleeve, revealing a slightly indented portion of skin, a lighter color than the skin around it. “Always biting me. I miss it.”

Dongsung’s chest hurts. “I need to go soon, and you do too, right?” Sehyuk nods. “So. This time, you came to visit Junhee. Next time, come to visit me.”

Sehyuk’s agreement is wordless, a kiss to the corner of Dongsung’s mouth. Dongsung kisses him proper before he returns to work, whispering against his lips: “My number is still the same.”

Sehyuk shakes his head. “I won’t call you, you call me. My number is still the same too.”

--

Dongsung keeps it a secret.

He’s almost bursting with happiness, and if he knows well and truly that he shouldn’t be, then everyone else will too. He doesn’t want to hear everyone’s reasons for why this is a horrible decision. In the end, this is his mistake to make.

And make it he does. It takes him a week but he does.

It mostly takes him a week because it is so, so hard to remember Sehyuk’s cell phone number. He was told it when he first joined the East Sect and he only ever called it twice, so it occurs to him that maybe Sehyuk was banking on him being unable to remember his number and therefore being able to live his life in peace. But, not so lucky, because Dongsung ends up typing in the digits with next to no problem (the 6 is first, not the 1).

It’s half past midnight on a Tuesday and Dongsung has the night off from work, so he figures now’s the perfect time provided that Sehyuk doesn’t have morning classes.

The phone rings, and rings, and rings. Dongsung stares at the opals on his finger.

The light catches the opals, they sparkle. Someone picks up the phone, answering in English. “Hello?”

Dongsung feels his throat tighten. He can’t tell if it’s Sehyuk or not, and also wasn’t prepared to use his limited English, so, “Is- Is Sehyuk a… around?” Then, he adds quickly, “Do you s-speak… speak Korean?”

“Yes to both,” the stranger replies, switching to Korean. “Sehyuk’s studying so I was in charge of answering his phone, but uh, here.” There’s somewhat distant speaking, and then the person comes back on. “What’s your name?”

“Uh- Dongsung, tell him it’s Dongsung.”

The person does as instructed, and there’s an audible oh my god, then, “Dongsung?”

Dongsung hadn’t actually planned out what he was going to say, so he figures he should start from the basics. “Hey.”

“Oh my god, alright, hi. Let me, uh, let me-” There’s the squeak of what Dongsung thinks is a desk chair, the ruffle of clothing. “Okay, okay. I’m outside now, in the hall. That was my roommate James, by the way.”

Dongsung hums in response. “He sounds nice. Are you friends?”

“Yes, it’s- it’s very surprising, I wasn’t expecting to become friends with him but he’s liked me since day one.” Sehyuk sighs, and it sounds shaky. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Dongsung says, and he keeps himself from adding I guess. “How about you?”

“Oh god, I have a final this afternoon and I’m dying. I- I didn’t tell you because I didn’t get the chance to but I’m majoring in business, logistics, and this is a- it’s a big test. And I didn’t study for it.”

“Business,” Dongsung repeats, latching onto it. He wants Sehyuk to tell him about his life overseas, what he does, what he’s been doing, what he’s planning on doing. He wants to be friends so badly. “Why that?”

“Oh man, so many reasons!” Sehyuk says, and the pure excitement in his voice tugs at Dongsung’s heart so painfully. “I mostly just want to lead people, my end goal is to be the head of a department, but… you know, little steps. So my first little step is getting an internship with a logistics company and going from there! It sounds so boring but really it’s… it’s so exciting.”

“It’s not boring when you talk about it,” Dongsung says, rolling over so he’s laying on his back on the couch. “Tell me about logistics.”

So, Sehyuk does, detailing the basics and then delving more into what he’s planning on doing specifically, which is simply heading a logistics department within a company. Truthfully, it does sound like a hideously boring career, but Dongsung loves laying there listening to Sehyuk speaking to him, so thrilled that Dongsung would care enough about him to ask about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just- I’m going off on a tangent, I have so much I could say.” Sehyuk sighs, and there’s a stretch of silence. “It’s late over there, huh? You should probably go to bed.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Dongsung replies, and really he kind of isn’t. His eyelids are drooping and he knows he’s close to falling asleep, but he doesn’t want to stop talking to him.

“Dongsung,” Sehyuk says his name so softly that it almost makes tears rise to Dongsung’s eyes. “If you’re tired, you can go to sleep. Call me tomorrow, about the same time, I have no classes tomorrow.”

Dongsung thinks about it, staring up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll go to sleep. I- Good luck on your test, Sehyuk.” He tries his hardest to speak as fondly as he can, hoping to convey almost two years of tumultuous emotion in just a few moments.

“Thank you. Sleep well, Dongsung.” A pause. “Thank you for calling.”

“No problem.”

“Goodnight, Dongsung.”

Sehyuk hangs up and Dongsung lays there, phone still pressed to his face, mulling over everything. He knows he will be yelled at if he tells anyone, but he wants to, so badly. So badly.

--

So, he tells Taeyang.

It’s been quite a while since he’s spoken to Taeyang in person, so he takes him out to lunch.

“You look good,” he tells Taeyang quietly, and Taeyang smiles.

“Thanks, you do too. How are you holding up?”

Dongsung nods as he answers. “Good, good. But, uh, guess what happened last week.”

“Hm?”

Dongsung inhales, preparing himself for whatever Taeyang could have to say. “Sehyuk was in town.”

“I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” Taeyang repeats, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his chin in his hand. “He came to see Sangwon, and I was also there to see Sangwon.”

“For what?” Dongsung asks without thinking.

“For my shit,” Taeyang says, an edge of bitterness to his voice. “He kept everything of mine and I wanted it back. He sold most of it but I was able to get my books back, at least, and one of my guns. Good enough, I guess. Anyway. How did you know? Surely he didn’t come to see you.”

Dongsung shakes his head. “No, I work at the supermarket, you know. He came by to buy things for Junhee, he said, and we- we talked briefly. He told me his number was still the same so I called him last night.”

“Damn. Was it pleasant at least?”

Dongsung doesn’t know how to properly express just how pleasant it was, so he just nods. Taeyang smiles.

The rest of their time together proceeds mostly in silence, because they never had anything to say to one another before and they certainly don’t now. When they do speak, it’s mostly just small talk and Taeyang occasionally going off on a rant about how shitty Sangwon is (which Dongsung still doesn’t know the full details of).

They part amicably. Dongsung is almost glad Taeyang didn’t try to dig too deep, because Dongsung doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. He also doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk to Seoyoung this Saturday.

--

He was not.

“Dongsung,” Seoyoung says after he spills the beans, sounding like a disappointed mother.

“Okay, yes, yes, I know.” Dongsung says, feeling like a chastised child in turn. He repeats his resolve from earlier in the week. “It was my mistake to make, Seoyoung.”

“Yes, Dongsung, but it’s not one you’re going to benefit from.” Seoyoung says, the strictest Dongsung’s ever heard her sound. “You may feel happier now, Dongsung, but you’ll quickly find that things you never got over are going to come back, and they will come back with a vengeance. I told you before that you cannot possibly be friends with him in a way that will benefit both of you at the same time, it will end up uneven and most likely unhealthy.”

Seoyoung is right, as usual. Dongsung doesn’t want her to be. “Okay, Seoyoung, you’re right. You always are right. But it’s still my mistake to make, like I said, and all I can do is try. I want to try.”

Seoyoung takes a deep breath, raking her hand through her bangs. “This could end up undoing everything you’ve done, Dongsung, everything you’ve done to get to this point of stability-”

“And it’s this point of stability that’s helping me realize that it is a mistake, Seoyoung,” Dongsung interrupts, trying to keep his voice steady. He can’t afford to get mad, or even worse, cry. “If I was still- still like I was, I would see no risk in it, and you know that.”

Seoyoung licks her lips, fixing Dongsung with an even gaze. “Alright, Dongsung. Like you said, it is your mistake to make. Remember that you have my personal number. If something goes very wrong very quickly, call me as soon as possible.”

Dongsung doesn’t think they will, but he nods in agreement anyway. Maybe he’s just trying to desperately delude himself into thinking this is okay, into thinking he’s going to be able to protect himself and not get hurt.

Maybe he’s wrong, maybe he’s right, but either way, he’s going to find out.

--

A month of hour long conversations at midnight bring them to this- a video call, with flipped roles. This time it’s Sehyuk half asleep and Dongsung sitting at his kitchen table, sunlight streaming in through the window.

“Are you sure James is alright with this?” Dongsung asks, and Sehyuk nods.

“Yeah, he does this to me with his girlfriend sometimes, so he can deal.”

There’s a muffled shut up from the other side of the room and Sehyuk laughs, eyes crinkling up in the most beautiful way. Dongsung’s chest hurts.

Time passes mostly in silence for a while, the two of them content to simply look at one another and hear each other breathe. It makes Dongsung feel so warm.

Dongsung goes to scratch his cheek and Sehyuk says, “What’s that?”

Dongsung looks at his hand and sees it, the opal ring around his finger. “It’s- it’s your ring, the one you used to wear- you know. Sangwon was going to sell it.”

“Why are you wearing it?” Sehyuk asks, incredulous.

“I- it’s pretty, and…” Dongsung feels almost embarrassed. He could confess to Seoyoung why it mattered so much to him, but now that it’s Sehyuk asking, it feels so flimsy and almost pointless to say. “I- one of the only things I remember, you know, from then, is you holding my hand. I always liked it.”

“Oh, Dongsung…” Sehyuk says quietly, like he’s horribly endeared. “I’m just- Dongsung, I’m just worried. I don’t want us talking to dredge up things that should be left alone.”

Dongsung nods, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m- I’m kind of worried, too. I… I want to talk to you, though.”

Sehyuk smiles, seeming a little awkward. “I want to talk to you too. We’ll… just… play it safe, you know? Friends, Dongsung, we’re friends.”

Just those words are enough to kick Dongsung’s heart rate up, tears welling in his eyes. Friends.

“Friends,” Dongsung repeats, hoping his slightly pixelated camera is enough to keep Sehyuk from seeing the tears in his eyes. “Friends, okay.”

--

Dongsung doesn’t know what it is about his problems always finding him at work.

He’s checking out a lady (not that sort of checking out), making amicable chit-chat with her, when she suddenly says, “Oh, you’re Dongsung?”

Dongsung thinks that maybe he’s garnered a reputation for being the kindest employee or something, but then the lady taps her top lip and Dongsung tries to discreetly feel his own with his tongue. It’s the scar, the one he’s had for so long now, from where- well, he lets that die in his mind. “Um, yes? That’s me.”

The woman offers her hand, leaning across the conveyor belt to do so. “My name is Yoori, I’m part of the South Sect. Sehyuk is great friends with my sect leaders, I- he visited earlier this year and talked a lot about you.”

Dongsung’s heart still leaps at any mention of Sehyuk, but he keeps an even smile on his face and shakes her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Yoori. He mentioned you had a daughter, now, where is she?”

“Ah, she’s at home. When someone offers to watch your child for you, even if it’s just for a run to the store, you take it.” Yoori smiles, tucking some of her dark brown hair behind her ear. “It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve… I’ve really wondered about you.”

Dongsung tries to imagine what sorts of things Sehyuk could have said about him to make him so marvelous in Yoori’s eyes. Once he’s finished bagging the refrigerated things, he can’t keep his curiosities at bay anymore. “If you don’t mind me asking, I- What did he say that made you wonder so much about me?”

“Oh dear, all sorts of things…” Yoori digs her wallet out of her purse, swiping her card before Dongsung gets the chance to read her the total. “He talked a lot about how much you protected him, kept him safe. How much you made him feel safe. I know what he did to you is… well, you know, but-” Yoori pauses, fingers pressing keys on the keypad as she’s prompted to input her PIN. “He’s a good man, that Sehyuk. While he was driven by selfish desires, he certainly wasn’t, but… he’s so happy now.”

Yoori’s voice has gone fond, and it makes Dongsung feel awkward. “He kept saying,” Yoori continues as she loads her cart down, “that he didn’t deserve anything. None of the kindness we showed him, none of the mercy you did, it was… heartbreaking. I hope he’s well and truly doing better.”

Dongsung hopes the same. He hopes Sehyuk is doing as well as he claims to be.

--

“Did I ever tell you I loved you?”

The question is sudden and makes Sehyuk stop short, hand hovering in mid-air. (Dongsung has discovered that Sehyuk talks with his hands a lot. It’s adorable.) “Not… Not that I can remember, no, why?” Sehyuk’s stature is tense now, like he’s nervous. His camera goes fuzzy for a moment, and he rushes to fix it.

Dongsung shrugs. “I- I was curious. I couldn’t remember.” Things sit in the back of his throat, things he could say, caught somewhere between his head and his mouth. They’re uncalled for and maybe insincere, but he wants to say them. He sorts through them and says one that he thinks he might be ready to tackle. “It’s… It’s like we’re avoiding the camel in the room, right?”

Sehyuk snorts through his nose, eyes crinkling. “Camel? Dongsung, it’s supposed to be elephant.”

“Oh. Wait, really? I- Really?”

Sehyuk bites his lips, visibly trying to hold back laughter, and nods. “Yes, dear, it is.”

Hearing the petname fall from Sehyuk’s lips brings something crashing back into Dongsung’s head, snapshots of Sehyuk stroking his cheek and calling him all sorts of things. Dear, darling, sweetness, honey pie, buttercup. It’s so sudden that it almost hurts. “You used to call me things like that all the time,” Dongsung says quietly, almost sad.

“I did, didn’t I?” Sehyuk replies, raking a hand through his hair. He looks so beautiful with his hair down, almost long enough to touch his shoulders now. “I can start doing it again.” And then, he tacks on a, “Darling.”

Dongsung gets the feeling that Sehyuk only used them back then to be condescending, exerting force in every area he could. But now, his eyes are soft and he sounds so genuine, the words filled with affection. Dongsung could almost cry.

Dongsung decides to try it out. “Okay, dear.” He whispers, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

Sehyuk smiles, but the weight of these past years shows through. It makes him look exhausted in a way Dongsung’s never seen before. “But, back to your original sentiment,” Sehyuk says, pulling Dongsung out of his thoughts. “You’re right, we are trying to ignore it. It’s not like we haven’t addressed it already, but it’s certainly best to… either put it behind us for good or let it end us on good terms. Don’t you agree?”

Dongsung does agree. They’re silent for a few moments, looking at one another, and Dongsung can’t believe that this tired-eyed man is the one that pried him apart and pieced him back together like this. He looks far, far away from Park Sehyuk, the leader of the East Sect. Now he’s just Park Sehyuk, a logistics major, sitting up late on a Saturday night talking to one of his friends half a world away.

“I suppose there’s no explaining on my part that I can really give you,” Sehyuk says, propping his phone up on something so he can pull his hair up messily, smoothing it back as best he can. “Nothing that will be sufficient enough, anyway.”

“It was selfishness,” Dongsung says quietly, watching as Sehyuk redoes his hair, as it’s come out unsatisfactory. “It was selfishness on both our parts. I wanted the world and you did too, but instead of us both getting it, you got… a fractured part of it and I got nothing.”

Sehyuk rubs his eyes sleepily and it’s the cutest thing, alleviating some of the negative emotion brewing in Dongsung’s chest. “Yes, and like I said, there’s no explaining for that selfishness that I can give you.”

“You can try. I can try too.”

Sehyuk inhales deeply, looking away from the camera. “It was a desire to be the best, when I wouldn’t have been the best anyway. But, I really could have been something had I not fucked it up, fucked everything up.” Sehyuk returns his gaze to Dongsung. “I’m not sure if you know this or not, but Sangdo and I went to school together. He was well liked, successful, had lots of girl-and-boyfriends. And I was just… nothing. It killed me to not be the center of attention so I turned out like this.”

There’s heavy silence, Dongsung sorting through all the things he could say in response, the things he could say to explain his own reasons. In the end, he chooses, “That’s- That’s why I never killed you.”

“Hm?”

“I never killed you,” Dongsung says slowly, pausing to gather his words, “because I- I saw that. Before when you told me to kill you, it was- it was a test. Just to see if I would do it. But there at the end…”

Sehyuk looks supremely wounded and Dongsung wonders if he’s gone too far. But- “Yes, and I thank you for that. You’re a good man, Dongsung, and I have far too many regrets concerning you that I’m never, ever going to get over. I told you this two and a half years ago and I’m telling you again, there is no forgiving me.”

Dongsung doesn’t know how to tell Sehyuk that he already has. Every shred of his conscious mind, every part of him that he can control without any influence, all of it has already let go of the bitterness, the anger. And maybe it was too short of a time, after four years of abuse and that aforementioned prying apart. But the fact remains.

Dongsung’s chest is burning with things he could say, jumbled emotions that he can’t figure out. It ends in tears and a quivering voice. “S-Sehyuk, I- I already have.”

It looks like Sehyuk’s going to protest, argue with Dongsung about things he already knows, but in the end he just nods curtly, a soft movement. Everything about Sehyuk is so soft now, careful and measured.

“You’ve changed so much,” Dongsung whispers. His chest hurts when Sehyuk’s face lifts in a smile.

“Is that a good thing?”

Dongsung nods emphatically, holding his phone a little tighter. “It’s a very good thing.” I love you so much.

“You’ve changed as well.” Sehyuk adds, giving Dongsung that terribly fond look that Dongsung thinks can’t really be conveyed through cloudy lenses. “I’m glad of it. But, dearest, it’s almost three AM, I really need to go to sleep.”

“Oh, yes, please do,” Dongsung says, and then, “darling.”

Sehyuk just looks so thrilled. It’s adorable. “Sleep well. You have work tonight, correct? Good luck with that.”

“And you have class in the morning, so good luck with that,” Dongsung replies, and Sehyuk nods.

“Will do. Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight.”

--

Sehyuk asks for Dongsung’s address one week, and then in another couple Dongsung is getting a package.

Dongsung holds the brown box in his arms, warm because of the sunlight it had been sitting in. He’s so excited that he feels like a child again.

He gets a knife from the kitchen and slices the tape with it, laying the knife aside and opening up the flaps. Within, there are various well-packaged trinkets, a couple packages of hard candy that is no doubt half-melted, and a letter laying in the bottom.

Dongsung starts from the top, pulling at bubble wrap to reveal the things inside. These turn out to be very New-York-specific things, magnets and shot glasses and one adorable apple made of crystal. Dongsung pauses halfway through to text Sehyuk, letting him know that he got the package and that he loves everything in it.

He fishes the envelope out of the bottom of the box and pulls the flap up delicately, pulling out what appears to be a Christmas card. He snorts, knowing full well that Christmas is almost four months away, and opens the card.

An honest-to-god Polaroid picture falls out and Dongsung catches it before it hits the floor, peering at it. It seems to be Sehyuk and James, though Dongsung has only seen James clearly once in his life, in a clothing store. James’ smile is dazzling, but Dongsung is only interested in the way Sehyuk’s nose is curled up, peace sign pressed against his cheek.

Dongsung holds the picture to his chest for a few moments, then lays it on the table in favor of reading what’s in the card.

The pre-printed message reads, Wishing you a happy holiday season! The words that Sehyuk wrote himself in his swirling script, however, read, Christmas is four months away and I don’t care. It was glittery so I bought it. This thing cost me six dollars I hope you like it. (Seriously, wishing you all the best. I just wanted to send you something. Hope you like everything!) - Sehyuk

Dongsung feels like he could cry, but keeps himself together long enough to unlock his phone and type into the new message box on Sehyuk’s still-open chat window, I love you so much.

There’s time to backspace it, time to delete it, time to regret it. Instead, Dongsung locks his phone again and sets about finding a place to put his new crystal apple.

--

It’s a Tuesday.

It’s a Tuesday, and the sun is shining, and Dongsung is out with Taeyang at the store. Sehyuk said that he was just going to send Taeyang out, but he was afraid something would happen to him, so he wanted Dongsung to guard him.

Fine. Dongsung will do whatever Sehyuk tells him to. And for the time being, he’ll do anything Taeyang tells him to, except Taeyang doesn’t demand anything of Dongsung. Instead, he asks, asks what sort of spaghetti sauce he should buy and if Dongsung will go get the the toilet paper from the other side of the store. Dongsung says that he’s not sure what they should get and goes and gets the toilet paper, of course.

Dongsung isn’t accustomed to it, things being asked of him rather than demanded. Taeyang would have gladly taken no for an answer and just walked over to get the toilet paper himself. He puts credit to Dongsung’s opinion on the generic sauce (“Not the best, right?” “You’re right…”) and doesn’t get it. It’s strange.

--

Today they discovered that Taeyang forgot to get the biscuits. So, today, Dongsung is out with Hansol. He’s not sure why Sehyuk thinks he needs a babysitter.

On their way home, Dongsung with the bag in his hands and Hansol casting nervous glances back at him, Dongsung sees someone across the street. And he stops.

This someone is a man, looking to be around Dongsung’s age, talking to someone else- his friend, girlfriend, sister?

It’s the smile.

Dongsung hasn’t smiled in ages, but he recognizes it. He recognizes his own smile, his own smile on this other man, round and big and with the brightest teeth.

Pain. There’s pain in the back of Dongsung’s head, like a knife through flesh, and Dongsung can’t stop himself from gasping. Hansol flinches and turns back to look at Dongsung, looking panicked, and Dongsung motions for Hansol to keep going, so Hansol does.

Hansol might catch flack for getting home before Dongsung does, but whatever.

Dongsung raises his gaze back to the man across the street, watching as he talks. Hearing him laugh. Recognizing it in the back of his head.

Brother.

Dongsung keeps walking.

--

Dongsung asks. He is bold, and he asks.

“Who am I?”

Sehyuk looks up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. “You’re Dongsung, of course.”

“I- I mean, who- who am I?” Dongsung repeats, feeling strange, standing in front of Sehyuk. Standing in front of his master, asking such bold questions. Bold.

Sehyuk makes a disapproving noise, like a disappointed mother. Disappointed that Dongsung is asking such bold questions. “Darling, I can’t tell you anything about yourself. You’ve got to find that out yourself, shouldn’t you know?” Sehyuk smirks like he knows, he truly does know, of course he does.

Dongsung feels something akin to anger prick in his chest and it’s foreign, something he hasn’t felt towards Sehyuk in a long time.

I still want him dead. The realization hits him.

Dongsung nods and leaves the room.

--

It’s Tuesday again, and Dongsung cannot find anything.

He’s dug through his own closet. It contains nothing but his own clothes and books that Sehyuk’s allowed him to keep. He’s dug through Hansol’s closet. It contains nothing but Hansol’s clothes, books, electronics that have been long broken, and discarded band-aid boxes. He’s dug through Sangwon’s closet. It contains nothing but Sangwon’s clothes, medical texts, and jars of preserved body parts and small animals.

All that is left is Sehyuk’s room.

Sehyuk is asleep, and Dongsung knows personally that Sehyuk is a deep sleeper. Dongsung is also a quiet mover, knowing exactly which board in the floor creaks and stepping over it.

The closet door creaks when he opens it and he pauses, just long enough for Sehyuk to turn over and fall back into deep sleep. His mind lingers absently on what Sehyuk could be dreaming about while he looks through the boxes of files and flips through papers, until he finds a file of entry sheets.

Entry sheets. Dongsung remembers this, he had to fill it out, it must be in here somewhere. He flips through them, reading off names under his breath (Park Hyunho, Kim Hansol, Kwon Sohee, Woo Jiho, none of them are him) until he finds his.

He snatches it out of the file with little to no regard for keeping quiet and shuts the box and door as quietly as he can, then darts out of the room and up to his own.

He’s certain Hansol has heard him but he doesn’t care, he just cares about reading over these three pages and finding something, anything.

Kim Dongsung. Born on August 1st, 1992, one brother, from Seoul. His thumbprint is in black, on a little window printed specifically for the purpose. He thinks the picture must be old, because he looks a lot different now. His cheeks aren’t that round, his eyes aren’t that mean, that’s not him.

That is him.

Dongsung bites his lip, reading through the descriptions of his appearance and personality. It seems that it was written by Sehyuk, due to the reference to Dongsung’s first day (“he tried to kill me”). If Sehyuk was going to do this to Dongsung- wipe away his identity, form him into something he’s not- then he could have falsified it. He could have seen this coming, known that one day something might give.

The next page explains the initiation process taken and then the last one is a calendar spread, one of the ones with the months set side by side and days in small numbers. There’s a day circled, previously described as Dongsung’s entry date, and then another date, a week later, and then something four months beyond, and then eight months.

Four months. Four months after entry date, what happened, what happened-

Dongsung’s head hurts so badly. He can’t remember, no matter how hard he tries. He flips back to the front page, staring at the numbers bearing his entry date (8/2/12, a day after his 20th birthday).

What happened?

Sehyuk.

--

Dongsung is numb. He keeps catching himself muttering dates and numbers and names that don’t really make sense, even to himself.

He supposes someone talks to Sehyuk about it. Of course they do, because they’ve always been scared of him. But, shouldn’t they be scared of Sehyuk? Dongsung- Dongsung doesn’t think he’d do this if he was himself, who he thinks he used to be.

But really, who was he, in the first place?

“Dongsung,” Sehyuk says softly, and the name still brings Dongsung to attention, quieting his mumbling. “What have you been doing, dear?”

“I- I don’t understand the question.” Dongsung replies, politely, as he’s always been taught to do. Polite to those above you. Polite to those who broke you, lest they break you even more.

“My closet, Dongsung. What did you do with those files?” Sehyuk asks, and even though his voice holds little to no inflection, there’s something stirring beyond it. Fear. Dongsung thinks it’s fear.

Dongsung is bold. “I read them.”

Sehyuk is uninterested, as usual. “What did you find out?”

“Donghyun,” Dongsung says, licking his lips. Nervous. “I have a brother named Donghyun. I saw him.”

Sehyuk arches an eyebrow. “Really, now. How… nice.”

Anger. It’s hot, burning in Dongsung’s chest. He wants to tear Sehyuk apart. He is so bold. “What did you do to me?”

Sehyuk sees Dongsung’s fists ball up at his sides. He smiles. “Nothing, dear.”

Dongsung has visions of choking Sehyuk like he used to. He wants to kill him.

He turns around and leaves the room.

--

“Well. He knows.”

Sehyuk is met with confused stares.

“He knows what I did to him, now.” Sehyuk lights his third cigarette of the hour, taking the filter between his teeth and chewing idly. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I can’t let him out again, because he saw his brother sometime or another.”

Hansol’s face scrunches. “That’s what happened the other day.”

“Pardon?”

“He suddenly stopped, when we went out for uh… biscuits, yeah. I didn’t know what was wrong, but he told me to go ahead, so I did… I guess that’s when he saw him, or something.” Hansol shrugs, and Sehyuk sighs.

“This is truly a pity. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

--

I am not a thing.

Sehyuk does not own me. I am not to be had. He does not love me. But he tried to make me love him.

Maybe I do.

I am not a pet, I am not something that Sehyuk went and bought, I am a human being I am a fucking person and I joined this sect because I wanted to lead people I wanted people to respect me and love me and I got this instead, I AM NOT A THING

I am nothing.

--

Dongsung used to be quite the fighter. He used to hit, punch, kick, and bite whatever and whoever he could; he used to spit curses and seethe venom and hate everyone, everyone. He looks at the local sect and figures that it’d be too easy to take Sangdo down, so he comes for Sehyuk’s crown instead.

He decided that he was going to try and kill Sehyuk, naturally. He got Sehyuk on the ground, his hands clasped around his throat, and all he got in return was a grin and Sehyuk’s soft hands around his wrists.

When Dongsung can’t bear it anymore and eases up, Sehyuk holds one of his hands sweetly and tells him, “Don’t hesitate. If you’re going to kill me, do it right.” Dongsung is allowed to linger on the words for a bit before Sehyuk punches him, right in the face, breaking his nose and leaving the blood on his knuckles.

The force causes Dongsung to fall to the side and Sehyuk kneels on his chest, pressing his weight into Dongsung and making his breath wheeze out of him. “Listen, Dongsung,” Sehyuk says, sounding almost bored, face close to Dongsung’s. “You’re beneath me, and I expect you to start acting like it.”

“Fuck you,” Dongsung spits out, raising a hand to wipe the blood away from his mouth. “I didn’t come here to be- be one of your mindless goons, I came here to be in charge.”

“Well, you’ve already failed,” Sehyuk says simply, standing up, “because you could have killed me right then and there and I wouldn’t have done anything about it.” He straightens his shirt, wiping at a fleck of blood on it, before kicking Dongsung in the stomach. While Dongsung curls in on himself, wheezing and trying to protect himself from anymore kicks, Sehyuk laughs. “You aren’t going to be hard to break, not at all.”

And, well, Sehyuk isn’t wrong. He rarely is when it comes to deciding how much it’ll take for someone to snap- Hyunho took years, Hansol took a few days without food, Sangwon took a backhanded slap and some mean words. Dongsung… well, we’ll see.

--

“What’s your name?”

“Kim Dongsung.”

Sehyuk nods, twirling his cane around in his fingers, from one hand to the other, before poking at the cut on Dongsung’s cheek with the end. Dongsung hisses through his teeth, and when he looks up at Sehyuk his eyes are filled with hatred, defiance. Nothing Sehyuk wants. “So strong,” Sehyuk says, reaching over and brushing Dongsung’s hair away from his face, rubbing his thumb across his forehead. “Minds like yours crack the hardest.”

Dongsung, not to Sehyuk’s surprise, snaps at him, teeth going for his wrist, and this time Sehyuk lets him, instead of pulling away like he’s scared. Dongsung’s teeth latch onto a bit of skin on the side of Sehyuk’s wrist and bite down hard, Dongsung making eye contact the whole time.

“Go ahead,” Sehyuk says, making an effort to sound totally bored. “Do whatever, bite me, tear into my flesh. It’s not going to make a bit of difference in the end.”

Dongsung growls low in his throat and jerks his head back, and Sehyuk barely flinches when his skin rips and blood runs down his arm, dripping off his elbow. Sehyuk runs his finger up his arm, along the trail of blood, then across Dongsung’s lips.

“Ugh, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Dongsung asks, incredulous, as he desperately tries to get the blood off his lips without licking them.

“Well, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sehyuk leans in, touching his nose to Dongsung’s for a moment before Dongsung jerks away.

“I don’t want anything but for you to drop dead.” Dongsung grumbles, sounding very much like a grumpy child, and Sehyuk smiles.

“So cute. Come on, darling,” he holds out his uninjured arm, gently resting his fingers on Dongsung’s cheek. “Bite me again.”

Dongsung makes a face, as if he loathes the thought now that Sehyuk’s telling him to do it, but he turns his head to the side and grabs Sehyuk’s skin with his teeth anyway. It’s not as hard as it was before, not with the intent to injure but the intent to- to please, to pacify.

Sehyuk wonders briefly: if he told Dongsung to bite his neck, would he bite like this, gently holding Sehyuk’s flesh between his teeth? Or would he bite down with such ferocity as before, trying to rip Sehyuk’s throat out?

He wants to find out.

--

Sehyuk marks progression on his calendar, marks the days that it takes for Dongsung to go from a loose cannon to something quieter, something that still hates Sehyuk but that doesn’t complain about it every four seconds.

Sehyuk asks, as always, “What is your name?”

This time, he responds with, “D… Dongsung, it’s- it’s Dongsung,” almost as if he’s struggling to remember.

Sehyuk smiles, gently stroking Dongsung’s hair. “Good boy.”

Dongsung shoves Sehyuk’s hand away with his head, hands straining against his restraints. “Let me go.”

Sehyuk notices that, unlike the usual, it’s not some sort of command filled with hate, it’s a gentle plea. So Sehyuk nods, pulling out his pocketknife and cutting through the thick rope keeping Dongsung’s hands tied, taking Dongsung’s hands in his and kissing at the scabbing burns on his wrists. He expects Dongsung to take the obvious opportunity to wrap his hands around Sehyuk’s neck, or at least shove him away, but instead he just places his fingertips against Sehyuk’s cheeks, almost cautious. Sehyuk nuzzles his face into Dongsung’s palms, remaining there for a bit.

That second day that Dongsung was with them, the day he first tried to kill Sehyuk and hesitated- Sehyuk saw that look in his eye, the look that said he regarded Sehyuk something as, as fragile, or sweet, something that shouldn’t be killed. Sehyuk intends to strip Dongsung of everything but that part, and also intends to make that part flourish.

--

Sehyuk wrote on a date eight months from that particular day: “Dongsung is mine now”. Turns out, it only takes half that for Dongsung to be clay beneath his fingers, broken and malleable, something Sehyuk doesn’t mind dirtying his hands with.

Sehyuk knows this because of the look in Dongsung’s eyes, the way he regards Sehyuk with fear but reverence, the way he flinches when Sehyuk lifts a hand to stroke his hair, as has become a regular practice during his visits to Dongsung’s room.

“You’re a good boy, Dongsung,” Sehyuk says softly, leaning to kiss Dongsung’s forehead (he doesn’t know why Dongsung still insists upon residing in the floor), and Dongsung whines in the back of his throat. “What is it?”

Dongsung carefully reaches out, hands touching the backs of Sehyuk’s thighs, ghosting over them, eyes wide as he looks at Sehyuk. Sehyuk nods, so Dongsung’s hands slide up, first gently touching and then grabbing Sehyuk’s ass.

“Dongsung, dear,” Sehyuk begins, brushing Dongsung’s hair away from his face and kissing a healing cut at his temple. “Have I melted you so much that you won’t tear into me again?”

Dongsung’s voice cracks when he answers. “I still want you dead.”

Sehyuk nods. “I’d have it no other way.”

Dongsung lifts up slightly, catching Sehyuk’s bottom lip with his teeth and biting down hard, keeping his mouth sealed over Sehyuk’s so his blood drips into his mouth. Sehyuk makes a soft noise, licking into his mouth heatedly and whining when Dongsung holds his tongue in his teeth, biting down just hard enough so Sehyuk can’t move it.

Dongsung breaks away first, shrinking back away from Sehyuk as if he’s scared Sehyuk will punish him. But Sehyuk just grins, wiping at blood in the corner of Dongsung’s mouth and whispering, “Good boy.”

--

Sehyuk’s back connects with the wall hard enough that he knows he’s going to have bruises, and for a second he thinks maybe Dongsung has come back to bite, maybe he didn’t strip him down enough and he’s finally going to kill him-

There’s no hesitation, sure, but it’s to kiss Sehyuk and not strangle him. Dongsung’s hands are strong and warm against Sehyuk’s shoulders and they drop to Sehyuk’s waist when he wraps his arms around Dongsung’s neck.

“That’s what you’re after, huh?” Sehyuk whispers, pressing his forehead against Dongsung’s. “Fuck me, Dongsung.”

Sehyuk is used to Dongsung regarding him with caution and respect, asking to hold his hands and closing his own around Sehyuk’s softly, as if he’s a doll. Sehyuk likes that, likes the sort of familiar warmness that burns in his chest when he comes to visit Dongsung- nothing like love, more like obsession.

He’s used to gentle touches and Dongsung looking at him with a gleam of adoration in his eyes, because that’s what he wanted. But it’s not to the point where Dongsung still doesn’t want him dead, and Sehyuk isn’t sure if he wants to take that away, because-

“Ah, be gentle,” Sehyuk breathes as the side of his face makes contact with the wall harshly, causing him to bite the inside of his cheek.

Dongsung leans over, putting his mouth near Sehyuk’s ear and laughing low. “You don’t deserve it.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

After Dongsung’s hands leave bruises on Sehyuk’s hips, and shoulders, and neck, when Sehyuk guides them there, Sehyuk decides that he quite likes this.

--

It’s that one day, the day that Sangwon stands up and flips out his knife, coming for Sehyuk, that Sehyuk knows he’s not vulnerable anymore, because-

“Holy shit!” Hansol yells as Sangwon is sent flying, hitting the wall and taking a vintage painting down with him when he falls to the floor with a mighty wheeze. He turns his eyes to Dongsung, standing in the middle of the room staring at Sangwon’s crumpled form, before he turns on Hansol. “Oh no, oh no no no, I didn’t do anything-”

“Dongsung.” Sehyuk says calmly, resting his chin in his hand. Dongsung freezes, turning his head to look at Sehyuk, and Sehyuk points to the floor at his feet. Dongsung hurriedly falls to the floor, crawling to Sehyuk and laying his head on his thigh.

“Jesus fuck,” Hansol breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “That thing is fucking terrifying, Sehyuk, what did you do?”

“Did what I couldn’t manage with you or Sangwon, my dear,” Sehyuk says, smiling as he strokes Dongsung’s hair. “He cracked like an egg, Hansol, and he’s frying in my skillet.”

Hansol opens his mouth to speak but seems to reconsider, then goes ahead. “You’re fucking sick.”

“And you just now came to that conclusion?” Sehyuk asks, sounding utterly bored and reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. He pauses for a moment, tapping the end of the filter on his bottom lip, looking over to where Sangwon is still curled up along the wall. “Get up, Sangwon, you’ve had worse. Don’t sulk over it.”

“Fuck off,” Sangwon groans, and Hansol sees Dongsung tense up at Sehyuk’s feet. Sehyuk tugs gently on his hair and he relaxes once more, snuggling his face into Sehyuk’s thigh.

“Don’t be so rude, Sangwon,” Sehyuk says, putting his cigarette between his lips and reaching back into his pocket for his lighter. He looks to Hansol as he lights it, taking a drag off of it and exhaling slowly. “And sit back down, Hansol, nothing’s going to happen to you.” Hansol does as he’s told, chewing his lip nervously, and Sehyuk smiles. “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about…”

--

“Hyosang, my dear,” Sehyuk says, beaming when Hansol and Sangwon haul him in. “So nice to see you.”

“Fuck you,” Hyosang spits, face twisting, and Sehyuk mocks offense.

“Is that any way to treat your host, Hyosang? You’d better be nice to me, because if not…” He stands up, walking to Hyosang leisurely and grabbing his chin. “It’s going to be a very unpleasant few days for you.”

“What the hell do you want?” Hyosang growls, struggling against his captors’ grip on his arms and going to kick at Sehyuk. His boot makes contact with Sehyuk’s shin and Sehyuk winces even though he barely felt it.

“No, no, no, this just won’t do…” Sehyuk takes a few steps back, turning to where Dongsung is huddled up beside his armchair. “Dongsung, darling, I can trust you to correct him, right?”

Dongsung nods, standing up and approaching Hyosang slowly, and Hyosang slowly begins to panic- Sehyuk can see it in his eyes, in the sweat building up on his face and neck, and it’s a lovely sight.

Afterwards, Sehyuk kisses Dongsung’s bloody cheeks and tells him he did a good, good job.

--

sehyuk doesn’t like parties. he hates the looks he gets, the things he hears (“such a failure”; “when is he going to settle down with someone?”, “i never thought his father would raise a boy like that”; “i heard he doesn’t-”

he tunes it out, eventually, learns to let it wash over him. infamy is better than being a nobody, he supposes.

his father likes to drag him from place to place. he doesn’t know why his father is still so proud of him, he’s a washed up twenty-five year old with nothing going for him. he doesn’t even have a girlfriend, just barely has a job within his father’s company.

pathetic.

“waiter,” sehyuk calls, and the waiter leans toward him to let him know that he’s listening, “can i get some more champagne?”

the waiter nods curtly and walks away swiftly, returning a few minutes later with not one but two glasses of champagne on his tray. sehyuk takes both with a thank you and the waiter leaves him alone.

sehyuk sips at the glass in his right hand, sets the other one down on the table. flat, old, not the best champagne he’s ever had. not that champagne was that great in the first place, but still.

“two glasses?”

sehyuk raises his eyes from the tile floor of the ballroom to the face of the one who’s approached him. wide jaw, big mouth curved up in a smile, eyes drawn up into slits. sehyuk supposes the smile’s supposed to be friendly, but it just looks goofy, overbearing. so he nods, and the man takes that as his cue to sit down opposite sehyuk.

“hello, you’re park sehyuk, right?” the man asks, voice low and smooth like honey. sehyuk gives him the time of day.

“indeed. and you are?”

“kim dongsung,” and the man extends a hand. sehyuk shakes it, and notices that his fingernails are painted gold. he doesn’t mention it.

“nice to meet you, kim dongsung. why are you over here?”

“you looked like you needed some company. i noticed everyone else giving you quite a wide berth- what’s wrong?”

sehyuk thinks for a moment. what should he pick out of his life to tell dongsung, an excuse for why nobody’s sitting with him, an excuse for why he doesn’t have a woman clinging to his side? “i’m a loner,” he decides, then repeats it just to convince himself.

dongsung makes a noise of acknowledgement, accepting it. “that’s fine. do you not want me to sit here?”

sehyuk looks at dongsung for a few moments, then smiles. “stay, you’re fine.”

--

dongsung smells like cologne and tastes like something fruity- a daiquiri, sehyuk realizes the next time dongsung’s tongue glides past his lips. tastes like strawberry and rum, sickly sweet. sehyuk wants more.

sehyuk bites at dongsung’s top lip and shifts so his arm isn’t caught between him and the wall and dongsung exhales into his mouth, hot and rushed. sehyuk catches a whiff of liquor and mint, mouthwash maybe? interesting.

sehyuk still wants more.

he hears someone outside the kitchen, possibly a waiter returning for more bottles of alcohol. he’s scared for a moment, then thrilled, because if someone caught him with dongsung (who, he found out, is the son of one of his father’s top executives- he believes dongsung said the marketing manager?) would be just fantastic.

so he pushes. jacket off, buttons slipping out of their holes, mouth on dongsung’s neck, teeth against flesh-

“ah, sehyuk-”

perfect.

sehyuk leaves a mark on dongsung, physically this time. the hickey blooms dark purple and red on dongsung’s tan skin and sehyuk kisses over it, kisses away his own spit and then passes it to dongsung. dongsung is at his mercy, hands gripping sehyuk’s hips as sehyuk tries to get every bit of clothing he can off of him before someone finds them or before sehyuk has to leave with his father.

then again, he could always leave with dongsung.

a few shifts of clothing later and sehyuk finds that dongsung has a happy trail, thick and coarse and enticing. dongsung is breathless, from kissing and from exhilaration. then sehyuk finds out that he can still take dongsung’s breath away even when he’s not near his mouth.

--

sehyuk tries to leave early in the morning, not wanting to stay to suffer dongsung’s hospitality. he seems the type to make breakfast for his one night stands, and sehyuk’s afraid that he might cling to that gesture of kindness.

he’s half dressed and half out of the bedroom when dongsung rouses, sitting upright, and sehyuk turns to look. two-tone hair mussed up, hickies and bite marks scattered across his neck and torso, drool dried on the side of his mouth.

cute.

“are you leaving?” dongsung asks, and sehyuk suddenly feels bad. “i- you can leave, if you want,” dongsung continues, shifting so he’s sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, “but, can you give me your phone number?”

sehyuk pauses, fingers playing with the top button on his shirt. then he smiles and nods. “sure.”

dongsung looks for a pen and paper and finds the former, so he offers his hand. sehyuk writes his phone number on the back of dongsung’s hand and kisses over top of it and the noise dongsung makes is something like a squeak.

“can i call you later?” dongsung asks, and there’s something hopeful in his voice, so sehyuk says yes.

dongsung kisses him before he goes, short and sweet, and sehyuk can still taste that daiquiri on his tongue.

--

Honestly, Sehyuk’s never been quite sure how he feels about this. When he first saw Dongsung, he always imagined soft touches and chaste kisses, paired up with home-cooked meals and movie nights. Instead, he got teeth and claws and pure fire, flames around him and on him and inside him.

It’s better than nothing.

“Ah, Dongsung-” Sehyuk reaches between his legs, grasping at Dongsung’s wrist. “Please- that’s good.”

Dongsung crooks his fingers so that his fingernails drag as he pulls his hand away, and Sehyuk gasps. Dongsung places his hands in the bend of Sehyuk’s knees, pushing back his legs in a way that’d be almost painful if Sehyuk wasn’t so used to it. Sehyuk gets only a moment to relax before Dongsung is pushing inside him, altogether too fast and sudden, and Sehyuk groans. He never cries- he knows Dongsung would like it too much, would make fun of him for ages if he did- but every time it’s almost enough. He tries to turn his head, just in case the tears welling up in his eyes flow, but Dongsung releases one of his legs to grab his chin.

“Don’t look away from me,” Dongsung almost growls in Sehyuk’s face, and Sehyuk’s cock twitches despite it all. Even though Sehyuk isn’t a big fan of any of this, he can’t help it- Dongsung is fucking erotic when he’s like this, sweat coating his body and canines visible when he grins at Sehyuk, grins at the few tears that escape Sehyuk’s eyes.

Sehyuk doesn’t like that, feels almost insulted because he’s still used to being the leader, being the best. Dongsung makes him feel like anything but the best- he makes him feel small and used. But, maybe it’s best that way.

Dongsung grows bored of watching Sehyuk’s face and, once it becomes apparent that Sehyuk isn’t going to cry anymore, shifts a bit on the bed and then rocks his hips, sliding out and then back in again. Sehyuk inhales, sliding his hands up Dongsung’s back and digging his fingernails into his shoulders. Dongsung grins again and noses at Sehyuk’s neck and Sehyuk tenses slightly, prepared for Dongsung to sink his teeth into his flesh. Instead, Dongsung moves to Sehyuk’s face and licks sweat off of his cheek.

“I- would you hurry up?” Sehyuk breathes out, hooking the leg that Dongsung’s hand left a few minutes prior around Dongsung’s waist.

“If you insist, princess.” Dongsung responds, kissing Sehyuk hard as he starts moving again, rhythm hard and fast- the way Dongsung likes it, and the way Sehyuk’s started to like. If anything, Dongsung obeyed him, and Sehyuk can’t help but smile. That is, until Dongsung sees, and moves away from Sehyuk’s mouth to bite at his neck.

“Ah- Dongsung- ah!” Sehyuk’s back arches off the bed as Dongsung tilts his hips just so, and Dongsung chuckles.

“I knew you’d like that, princess.” Dongsung whispers in Sehyuk’s ear, and Sehyuk whines.

“Touch me.” Sehyuk says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. In reality, Sehyuk feels like he’s melting, which is really nothing new. He’d rather be on the receiving end of Dongsung’s kindness and sweet smiles instead of this, but it’s satisfying, if anything.

Surprisingly, Dongsung complies, sliding his hand between their bodies and wrapping his fingers around Sehyuk’s cock. He jerks him off in time with his thrusts, and Sehyuk drags his fingernails down Dongsung’s back, breaths erratic.

“Ah- Dongsung- please-”

“Cum for me, darling,” Dongsung whispers in Sehyuk’s ear, and it takes only a moment for Sehyuk’s hips to jerk upwards into Dongsung’s hand, cries muffled by Dongsung’s mouth over his. Dongsung bites Sehyuk’s shoulder, sounding wet and almost horrific, as he cums inside Sehyuk. Sehyuk shudders as Dongsung pulls away, kissing him almost sweetly, if not for the metallic taste of blood and Dongsung nipping at Sehyuk’s lips.

Dongsung pulls out, crawling off the bed and then standing up to stretch. Sehyuk looks over, eyes roaming Dongsung’s body, and Dongsung turns to smile and offer a hand.

“Come take a bath with me,” Dongsung says, voice soft, and Sehyuk’s sure it’s a joke but takes Dongsung’s hand anyway. Dongsung helps him to his feet and puts an arm around his waist as they walk to the bathroom, making a face at the sight of blood dripping onto the floor.

He flips the toilet lid down and sits on it when they reach the bathroom and Dongsung kneels in the floor to run the bath. As Sehyuk watches, he can’t help but think what it’d be like if Dongsung was this vaguely-sweet to him all the time, and his heart lurches a bit in his chest. He certainly wouldn’t miss the feeling of blood drying on his skin, or the feeling of being torn apart from the inside out, but-

Dongsung turns to him once he’s got the temperature of the water right and kisses at the wounds on Sehyuk’s neck and shoulder, and Sehyuk smiles. It’s not an apology, but it’s close enough.