Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The sun hangs high in the sky, brilliant and beaming with no clouds to obstruct it. Below, Jun walks the busy Seoul streets. He jumps over each crack in the sidewalk, humming to himself. When he bumps into someone, he quickly bows his head and mumbles an apology.

He’s about to turn a corner, passing by a white and green restaurant with “Wannabe box” written across the side, when there are sudden screams from behind him. He whips his head in the direction of the noise to see the crowds of people rushing forward in a frenzy, the entire throng of people moving forward like a crashing wave.

“Magic! Magic user!” someone cries.

The crowds move even faster, squeezing in between the buildings, running over each other in their haste to get away from—

The shadows.

They crawl out from the restaurants on the opposite side of the street, growing out from the shadows of the buildings until they stretch impossibly long. They writhe in between bodies, climbing up legs, sending people to the ground with sharp cries and screams and yells. The smell of smoke is overpowering as they suffocate the people who fall.

Immediately, Jun runs forward with the crowds, trying to shove between people even as he apologizes. He keeps looking back, watching the shadows, and he stumbles over a foot before he catches himself and continues running. He readies himself to jump up one of the fire escapes of the apartment building up ahead, but he pauses when he sees a child fall to the ground, hand outstretched.

“Mom!” the child cries, sniveling and snotty as the waves of people continue to crash around her. “Mom! Where are you?”

Jun hesitates, looking between her and the fire escape, before he huffs and forces his way through the crowds to get to her, grabbing her hand.

“Come on,” he tells her. “We have to go.”

She sobs louder. “Where’s my mom?”

“We’ll find her, okay? Let’s go, sweetie.” Jun looks behind them, the shadows creeping closer, closer.

He pulls her forward and starts running, but she stumbles every other step, her short legs unable to keep up. She wipes her face with her other hand and she keeps crying.

Jun suddenly stops and crouches down to face her. “What’s your name, aegi?”

She sniffles. “Lee Hwayoung.”

“Okay, Hwayoungie, listen to me, hm? Your mother is probably over there-” He points to where the crowds are running to, where there are apartment buildings and a street that leads to a park. “So run really fast and try to catch up to her, all right?”

“But- but I’m scared.”

“Me, too, but we have to be really, really brave. Do you think you can be brave?”

Slowly, Hwayoung nods, wiping the snot from her nose. “I can do it.”

“Yes, you can.” Jun smiles, but it’s strained. He glances behind him—the shadows are close, close, the smell of smoke unbearable—before he grabs Hwayoung’s hand and runs. It is a second too late.

The shadow reaches Hwayoung first, curling up her leg, making her shriek and burst into a new bout of tears. Jun turns to her instantly, pulling her forward out of the shadow’s grip, nearly shoving her away in his desperation. The shadow turns its attention to him instead, slithering up to his arm. It flickers, though, and it shrinks back before it dissolves into nothing. The bracelet on Jun’s wrist snaps and falls to the ground, beads and charms scattering across the pavement.

He bends down to pick up Hwayoung from where she’d fallen in her terror, carrying her in his arms as the shadows continue to multiply and chase after them. Hwayoung keeps crying and Jun breathes more and more heavily with each step, sweat pouring down his face, but inevitably, inevitably, inevitably—

Two shadows are faster, whirling up and around his legs, forcing him to the ground. Instinctively, his arms raise to protect Hwayoung from the fall, pushing her into his chest as he leans over her. He squeezes his eyes shut, whispers, “It’s okay, nuòmǐ, it’s all right.”

His breath shudders when the shadows crawl over his body. His whispers become more shaky, and more Mandarin blends with Korean before no words make it past his lips at all. Still, he stays bent over Hwayoung, squeezing her so tightly that his body hides her completely. She can only sob.

The shadows circle around Jun’s throat, growing darker and darker until they infect his veins, turning them black and making them bulge from his neck. He chokes on his own breath, black liquid dripping from his mouth, smoke leaking out, before his body slumps over Hwayoung, lifeless.

Wonwoo bolts up, his stomach churning as tears drip down his face. It takes a second for him to remember that he stayed the night at the hyungs’ apartment with Mingyu. A good thing, then, because Jun lives here, and Wonwoo can look for him to see if he’s all right.

Every one of his limbs is shaking, though, painfully evident when Wonwoo rises from the sofa and his legs nearly buckle. He clenches his fists, shakes his head, tries to convince himself he shouldn’t be bothered by these premonitions anymore. It’s been ten years, and yet…

“Wonwoo hyung?” Mingyu asks, voice sleepy, clearly only half-conscious. He sits up from where he’d laid out a pillow and blanket on the floor, rubbing his eyes.

He’s cute, but Wonwoo can’t waste time on that. He feels sick to his stomach, and there’s an itch at the back of his throat that makes him want to cough.

“Jun-ssi,” he mumbles, almost losing his balance when he takes a step forward. “Where is he?”

“Oh, are you two awake?” Jeonghan asks from the kitchen. “Jun-ah went to try out a new place in Dongsan-ro. Did you-?”

Wonwoo barely has time to shove his glasses onto his face and pull on his shoes before he’s out the door.

His phone says Dongsan-ro is ten minutes away. Wonwoo manages to make it five, sprinting down the streets and cutting through alleys with that same certainty simmering in his blood. After the first minute, he stops looking at his phone for directions since his intuition seems to know short-cuts.

As soon as he gets to the street where Wannabe Box sits, a scream pierces the air.

“Magic! Magic user!”

Wonwoo spots Jun’s face right as the crowds start running. He keeps his eyes on him, forces his way through, ignoring all the sharp shoulders and elbows and curses until he grips Jun’s wrist, fingers digging into his skin.

“Wonwoo-ssi?” Jun’s eyes go wide, mouth gaping. “What are-?”

“Let’s go,” Wonwoo says, pulling Jun forward with probably way too much force. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask anything else.

Jun keeps looking back, watching the shadows, and he stumbles over a foot before he catches himself and continues running. He and Wonwoo ready themselves to jump up one of the fire escapes of the apartment building up ahead, but they pause when they see a child fall to the ground, hand outstretched.

“Mom!” the child cries, sniveling and snotty as the waves of people continue to crash around her. “Mom! Where are you?”

Jun hesitates, but Wonwoo pushes him forward. “I’ll get her.”

“What? But-”

“Just go. I’ll be right behind you.”

Jun stares at him, frowning, before he sighs and nods. He jumps up to the fire escape, ignoring how it creaks and how rust and dirt fall when he settles on it. He glances down at Wonwoo before he continues climbing.

“Hwayoung-ah!” Wonwoo calls to the girl, shouldering past the crowds of people.

She turns towards him, still sobbing. “Do you know where my mom is?”

“Yes, just come with me, all right? I’m going to pick you up.”

“I’m scared,” she whines, but she wraps her arms around Wonwoo’s neck without fuss. He grunts as he tests her weight, still feeling shaky and weak, but he’ll have to put up with it. Besides, she’s tiny. She can’t be more than six years old.

“I’m scared, too,” he mumbles. He looks back and almost flinches when he sees how close the shadows are, creeping up the streets and slinking behind restaurants.

What had Jun said? “We have to be really, really brave”? Wonwoo kind of wants to throw up, honestly. He’s not good with children or stressful situations.

He sprints forward anyway, ignoring how his arms are already aching, how Hwayoung pulls on his neck, how the sun is making him sweat even more. But inevitably, inevitably, inevitably—

The icy feeling of a shadow crawling up his leg is unfortunately familiar. His breath leaves him in a gasp, and, more by reflex than anything else, he shakes his leg and holds Hwayoung closer to his chest. Oddly, the shadow is successfully shaken off, and in the glance Wonwoo sends it, he realizes it’s not as dark as the others.

“Wonwoo-yah!”

He looks up to see Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol on top of the roof of a restaurant. It’s a small building, not very tall, and a plan is already forming in the mess that is Wonwoo’s brain.

“Is that a child? What-?”

“Catch her!” Wonwoo yells. He ignores Hwayoung’s questioning hum and his friends’ what did you just say’s to toss her towards them. He sees Seungcheol’s eyes flash indigo, ensuring that the child falls safely into his arms, but she still screams the whole way. Fortunately, from their height, no one seems to have noticed the show of magic.

Now much lighter, Wonwoo forces his legs to go faster. He stumbles, legs threatening to buckle now more than ever, but he pushes and pushes and pushes until he spots a staircase winding up the side of a building. He doesn’t dare look behind him before he climbs up two steps at a time, heart hammering in his chest, lungs aching for breath. He doesn’t stop until he gets to the top.

He must’ve run further than he thought because he is unable to see any shadows from the view he has. He scans the rooftops and sprawling streets for any recognizable buildings, but his vision is blurry and he’s so lightheaded and—

He half-collapses to the ground, leaning against the railing of the rooftop. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes with clenched fists, trying to see clearly, but it does nothing. He huffs and tilts his head back, shutting his eyes. He’s unbearably hot, the sun still high overhead, and he’s wearing a sweater, but it’s safer like this when his arms are hidden. He wipes the sweat off his brow with his sleeve.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there catching his breath, but it’s long enough for someone to find him. He tenses when he hears footsteps approaching, sliding his glasses back on, eyes narrowed as he watches the staircase. He blinks when he realizes it’s Jun. He blinks again when he sees that his eyes are an obnoxiously bright green.

“Wonwoo!” Jun says, running towards him. Minghao is close behind, and a small bluebird chitters from above.

“How did you run all the way here?” Minghao asks, awe in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jun asks, crouching beside him, worry clear in the lines of his face. “We were only able to find you because of Blueberry.”

“Why do you always name them?” Minghao mumbles.

Wonwoo stares at them, confused. When he sees the bluebird settle on Jun’s shoulder, he thinks, Ah. Of course. That’s Blueberry.

“I might pass out,” Wonwoo says, still lightheaded. He blinks slowly, not quite able to see Jun and Minghao in focus.

“You’ve been running for thirty minutes without a break,” Minghao says. “And you’re wearing a sweater. I’m surprised you haven’t passed out already.”

“Did everyone get away?”

“Yeah, they all texted us. And they said you threw a child at them?” Jun raises his eyebrows. “What’s that about?”

Wonwoo sighs. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Well, the kid is fine, too. I think they found her mom.”

“Seriously, though, are you okay?” Minghao asks, leaning towards him with a frown. “You don’t look so good.”

Wonwoo tries to reply, tries to assure them that he just needs a moment to recuperate, but black spots bloom across his vision despite his best attempts to ward them off. His eyelids feel uncomfortably heavy, and his limbs feel like they’re made of lead, and he thinks he hears something like “Yah, Jun hyung, call Mingyu” before he can’t see or hear or feel anything at all.

When his senses return, the first thing he feels is warm. It’s not sweltering; instead, it’s cozy and comforting, and before he hears him he already knows it’s Mingyu (because no one else is warm, warm, warm, like him, like his entire body carries the sun, and Wonwoo is weak, weak, weak for it, orbiting him around and around and—)

“-telling you, he always does this! He’s perfectly fine one second, and then next thing you know, he’s running out to save someone. He’s the smartest guy in my class, but I swear, he doesn’t think at all.”

“He didn’t even tell you guys what was happening?” Jun asks, only to be met with a chorus of no’s. “He showed up out of nowhere. It kind of scared me.”

Wonwoo curls into Mingyu a little more, wanting to hide from the familiar chill that creeps over him. He doesn’t want to cause fear. He doesn’t want to bring doom, or terror, or catastrophe, but it seems that’s all he’ll ever do.

“Hyung? Are you awake?” Mingyu asks. Wonwoo feels a hand card through his hair and hums. Mingyu snorts. “Okay, yes, you are, stop pretending.”

Wonwoo huffs and sits up, only to realize he’d been laying on Mingyu’s lap. His cheeks flush pink, and he quickly looks away, but then he sees his sweater is gone.

The bandages are still on his arms, but they’re more to hide what’s underneath than to be of any medical use. The marks are healed now, but they are slow to fade and the doctor had warned him that those types of scars don’t go away so easily. Just looking at the bandages makes Wonwoo queasy, injecting ice into his veins as he realizes that the others saw, and they’ll ask questions and—

“Mingyu-yah said you had a mix of dehydration and overexertion,” Minghao says.

“Have you been drinking water?” Mingyu asks, narrowing his eyes. “Actually, don’t answer that. I already know the answer.”

Wonwoo blinks, bewildered and overwhelmed. He looks between Mingyu, Minghao, and Jun, trying to read them, but they all only seem concerned. Jun looks guilty as he fiddles with his bracelet, running his thumb over a cat charm.

“We match,” Wonwoo mumbles, barely audible. He lifts his arm to show Jun his own bracelet, and he feels a swell of warmth when the man brightens and doesn’t comment on the bandage underneath it.

“Mine is an orange tabby! Shua hyung gave it to me last night.”

“Mingyu said I’m a black cat.”

“Am I wrong? Look at you!” Mingyu ruffles his hair. Wonwoo glares at him, which only seems to prove Mingyu’s point because he grins. “See? Same temperament, too.”

“I guess you have nine lives, then,” Minghao says with a small smile.

“Come on, hyung, you’re probably still exhausted. We should get going.” Mingyu rises to his feet, helping Wonwoo up by grabbing his elbow instead of his arm.

“Wait, are you not going to tell us what happened?” Minghao asks, looking between them.

Mingyu glances at Wonwoo the same time he glances at him. They both turn to Minghao, awkward and quiet.

“It’s just- uh, it’s a lot,” Mingyu says. “And I don’t know if hyung is up for it. He did just pass out.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Minghao says. “If you send it to my brain, I’ll get it.”

Wonwoo can read between the lines. To a stranger, it might sound like some sort of weird joke, but it’s a simple confession: his magic is telepathy. Ironic, considering Wonwoo almost thought that that was Jeonghan’s magic.

Wonwoo shuffles his feet, considering. “I don’t know if you want to see it.”

“It can just be words.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “It can’t. Are you sure you want to see?”

“It can be pretty gruesome, Hao,” Mingyu says.

Minghao looks helplessly confused. Jun isn’t much better.

“Whatever I send you, it’s the reason this all happened.” Wonwoo stares at Minghao, hoping he understands. It’s hard to be vague, but they’re still in a public place, and they don’t know who might be around to hear them.

“I want to see it, then.”

Wonwoo stalls for a second longer before he sighs and nods. He distances himself from the premonition, tries to act like it’s only a dream and holds no bearing on reality, and he lets it resurface to the front of his mind.

Minghao’s eyes turn wine red, piercing into Wonwoo’s as he suddenly feels a strange presence in his head, a gentle tug that spurs the dream forward. It only takes a moment, but by the end, Minghao’s mouth is open in shock. He covers his mouth and glances at Jun and then back at Wonwoo.

“What?” Jun asks. “What happened?”

“You- you died,” Minghao says, eyes dropping to the ground. “You died protecting a little girl.”

“But I’m right here?”

“Thanks to Wonwoo hyung, you are,” Mingyu says. “Did Seokmin-ah not tell you to steer clear of Dongsan-ro?”

“He said he’d go with me another time,” Jun says with a frown. “And he told me not to go there without him, but I wanted to try a different restaurant today. They had good deals.”

Mingyu snorts and shakes his head. “Wonwoo hyung had a dream that you and Seokmin-ah died there. And then he had another one today and he ran here.” He looks around before lowering his voice. “You can always tell because his eyes glow dark blue.”

“Oh.” Jun blinks. He looks at Wonwoo. “So that’s how you’ve been protecting us. Thank you.” He bows his head.

“Wonwoo-ssi,” Minghao starts, “I would’ve cried my eyes out if I had that dream. How did you not freak out?”

“I do,” Wonwoo mumbles, fidgeting with his hands. “I do freak out. But I’ve been having dreams for a while now.”

He wants to say he’s used to them. He wants to say he found a tried-and-true method that staves off panic attacks and migraines and a lethargy that burrows so deep inside him that he feels like it’s a part of him, but then he’d only be a liar. Ten years is a long time, but he remembers every dream he’s ever had, even for the schoolmates he saw across the hallways and the teachers he passed on his way to lunch.

The only thing he’s picked up is how to be quiet. How to silence his tears, his sobs, how to breathe in a way that won’t get eyes directed towards him. Maybe that’s how he scared people, too—always silent and watching, a voiceless figure in the classroom to look at but never truly acknowledge. A ghost with human skin and a human heart.

(And Wonwoo’s heart has always been loud, the most human thing he has to his name. It sings and dances in his chest, so lively and so red, and it continues to pump and pump and pump despite the body it lives in.)

His friends’ faces are sullen, their concern as prominent as ever, and Wonwoo just feels sorry.

“It ended well this time, though,” he says with a hesitant smile.

“Right!” Mingyu says with a too-wide grin, wrapping his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. “No one got hurt.” He glances at him. “Well, mostly. But we’re all fine now!”

“But- ah, can I call you hyung? I’m sorry,” Minghao says with an embarrassed chuckle. “It feels weird to talk to you so formally after you just saved our Jun hyung.”

“It’s all right, go ahead.” Wonwoo nods.

“Hyung, how do you- you know, how do you control it?” Quieter, he adds, “The dreams.”

Wonwoo nearly laughs.

“You don’t,” he says.

“What?” Minghao blinks.

“But it’s-” Jun stutters, catches himself. “How can you not?”

“Fate is not something you can control.”

“But I’m still here,” Mingyu says. “And so is Seungkwan-ah and Seokmin-ah and Jun hyung. You controlled fate for the four of us, didn’t you?”

Wonwoo is quiet. He doesn’t want to say that it’s just like that for now. He doesn’t want to tell them that all he did was buy them time, because then what? What was all of this for? He will see them dead again, inevitably, and yet here he is, talking with ghosts.

He always tells himself it’s not worth it. He tells himself he’ll pull away and stop orbiting around Mingyu, but he keeps leaning into him, anyway, because his heart sings too loudly for him to ignore it.

“We’ll see,” is all he says, not meeting anyone’s eyes. He steps away from Mingyu and heads for the staircase with a wave. “I’m going.”

“Don’t leave without me!” Mingyu calls, quickly giving Minghao and Jun his goodbyes before he catches up with Wonwoo. “You’re leaving so suddenly? The dorms are twenty minutes away! We should wait for the hyungs.”

“I’ll walk.”

“You- what? Hyung!” Mingyu hurries down the stairs. “What’s wrong?”

Wonwoo doesn’t turn to look at him, keeping his gaze straight ahead. There are only a couple of people walking down this street, but the tension in the air remains. If he listens hard enough, he can hear police sirens in the distance.

He’s about to pull up the directions on his phone when it’s suddenly taken from his hands. He looks up at Mingyu with a frown.

“Hyung, come on, what’s up?” Mingyu asks, brow furrowed, lips almost pouting. “You’re acting all sulky.”

Wonwoo huffs and snatches his phone back. “No, I’m not.”

“You so are! You’re making the annoyed don’t-talk-to-me face!”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because we’re best friends and I want to!” He pauses. “Unless you actually don’t want me to?”

Wonwoo stares at him. Instinctually, he wants to say yes, but that isn’t true. And if he says yes, then Mingyu will keep silent, and Wonwoo hates when he’s silent because Mingyu is not Mingyu if he’s not smiling and laughing and talking.

“I never said that,” Wonwoo says, continuing forward with his eyes on his phone.

Mingyu laughs, bright and loud, and it’s enough to clear some of the storm clouds over Wonwoo’s head.

“You agree that we’re best friends, then?” Mingyu asks, and he sounds entirely too happy about it.

Wonwoo hums affirmatively, ignoring how the tips of his ears burn. He doesn’t know why being best friends of all things should fluster him. He had best friends when he was a kid and he never struggled with confirming that with them.

“Wow, I can’t believe you agree!” Mingyu laughs, and Wonwoo doesn’t have to look to know he’s grinning with his snaggletooth on full display. “Jeon Wonwoo is my best friend! The Jeon Wonwoo! The cool, mysterious, handsome nerd in the back of the class-”

Wonwoo snorts and shakes his head. He can’t help but smile. “Yah, you didn’t even recognize me when we first met.”

“That’s part of the mysterious bit, hyung! And you weren’t wearing your glasses, so it was harder to recognize you.”

Mingyu continues to talk for the rest of the trek back to campus, content with Wonwoo’s hums and nods and little laughs. Wonwoo doesn’t understand how he can be fulfilled with such a lackluster audience, but Mingyu never seems bothered. He has other things to complain about, like how he’ll have to get used to the dining hall food again after the blessing that was Minghao and Jun’s cooking.

By the time they get to the dorm courtyards, Mingyu has given Wonwoo his sweater back and has listed eight different dishes Minghao and Jun have made, all of which he claims are his favorite. He keeps thinking of others until he can’t choose, stuck between shabu shabu and braised beef stew. Wonwoo is unfamiliar with most of the dishes, but he finds them all interesting and agrees that they sound delicious.

“I’ll have to cook you something,” Mingyu says as they pass through the courtyard. “What do you like? Actually, no, what don’t you like?”

“Seafood, I guess. I don’t like the smell.” He hesitates, remembers a distant, faded memory. “Spicy seafood jjigae is good, though.”

He had it a long, long time ago, back before he knew he had magic and before his parents had passed. His grandmother was still alive, then, too, but her health was always unsteady so when she died in her sleep, no one was surprised. But before then, back when Wonwoo was only about six or seven years old, he had gone fishing with his father and returned to his grandmother’s house with only a small, yellow wildflower to show for it.

He didn’t like fishing. He still doesn’t. But the wildflowers were pretty, and he wanted to bring something back to his grandmother. Her face had lit up, and she told him something about buttercups bringing happiness, and she refused to let his bowl remain empty that night, refilling it and refilling it until Wonwoo had felt like he was about to burst.

“Really? It’s funny you like that but not- huh?” Mingyu pauses, making Wonwoo look up. “Why is there a cop in our dorm building?”

Sure enough, there is a man in uniform inside, visible through the windows. He’s standing by—

“Wait, isn’t that your room?”

Wonwoo stops breathing. He stops thinking. The man isn’t turned towards them, but Wonwoo recognizes his stature and the way his hair curls around his ears, fading from a bald spot that Wonwoo knows is under his hat.

“Mingyu,” he says, voice strained, eyes locked onto the man. “Go to your room and act like you don’t know me.”

“What? Hyung-”

“Mingyu, please.” Wonwoo turns to him and grips his shoulders. “Just listen to me, okay?”

“But- but what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Wonwoo steps away, breathes shakily. “I know him.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better.”

“Just go.”

Mingyu worries his lip between his teeth, looking between Wonwoo and the man before finally, he walks ahead and opens the door to the building, keeping his eyes on the ground. He bows to the cop and hurries up the stairs.

Wonwoo waits a few moments before he goes inside, trying to quell the rush of panic that surges through him just at being near Nam Youngho.

Technically, he’s his uncle-in-law, confirmed by Wonwoo’s aunt’s Kakao profile picture of an engagement ring. He doesn’t talk to her often. He has mixed feelings of gratitude and resentment towards her, but now, he can only feel betrayed, because the only one who could’ve told Youngho where Wonwoo lives is her.

As soon as Wonwoo enters, Youngho turns around. He tenses, eyes narrowing, frown sharp on his thin face.

“Wonwoo-yah,” he says, stern, cold, just as he always is.

Wonwoo bows his head, keeps his eyes low, tries not to shake, fails.

“There was an incident on Dongsan-ro involving a magic user. That doesn’t have anything to do with you, does it?” It seems like he already has his answer if he’s at Wonwoo’s door.

“No, sir.”

“Wonwoo-yah,” Youngho says again, like the name is its own kind of joke. He puts his hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder and doesn’t seem to notice his flinch. “I know you do, so just say it, yeah?”

Always paranoid, always suspicious, because his fiancée is afraid of Wonwoo and Youngho loves playing savior. Wonwoo has never been able to convince the both of them that he’s not a monster. Some days, he believes them.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Wonwoo says, looking to the side of Youngho’s jaw. It’s clenched, as it often is. “I had nothing to do with-”

When Youngho slaps him, it reverberates through Wonwoo’s skull. His neck cracks with the force of it, and his cheek burns red hot, and he thinks he might’ve been cut, too, because he feels the tickle of something dripping. The only ring Youngho wears is his engagement ring, and that alone almost makes Wonwoo laugh.

“You’re still acting innocent after all these years? I know what you are, little demon,” Youngho hisses into his ear, gripping Wonwoo’s jaw so hard that he knows it will bruise. “It’s only a matter of time. There’s evil inside you. It’s my duty to put you where you belong.”

He lets go and pulls away. He straightens his tie and adjusts the cuffs of his uniform. Wonwoo realizes why when he sees a student pass by in his periphery. The person doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn to look. A door closes a few seconds later.

“I won’t let you roam free,” Youngho continues, voice low. “I won’t. Not after what you did to Eunjeongie and Daeyang-ah, your own parents.” His hands curl into fists and Wonwoo tenses. “I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t care.”

Youngho reaches out to force Wonwoo to look at him, his thumb digging into the cut on Wonwoo’s cheek. Youngho’s eyes are dark, the lines of his face deep. Every time Wonwoo sees Youngho’s eyes, he feels like he can’t breathe.

“If I had it my way, I would’ve left you to die. You’re lucky my fiancée is kind.” He squeezes tighter. “You won’t have her protection forever, rat. You’ll die, and it will be by either my hand or yours.”

His radio suddenly crackles to life with a beep, a voice mumbling numbers and a street name. Youngho pulls away with a sigh, lips twisted with contempt. He stares at Wonwoo for a moment, eyes hard.

“I’ll be back,” he says, hand on the radio. “Don’t be stupid enough to try and get away. I’ll find you.”

Wonwoo stands still, eyes glued to the floor, listening to Youngho’s footsteps until a door shuts. He flinches at the noise, unable to relax the tension in his muscles even though he knows Youngho is gone.

The silence is deafening.

He knows he should head inside. He still feels blood dripping down his cheek, down his chin and the corner of his lips, but he can’t bring himself to move. His breath shakes with every exhale, and his heart pounds, and he feels so weak that he might just collapse for the second time today.

It isn’t until he feels something else fall down his cheek that he realizes he’s crying. He presses his lips together to stifle a sob and shuts his eyes, leaning back against the wall, the thump of his head grounding him just slightly.

“Wonwoo hyung?”

He stiffens. He ducks his head, tries to make himself smaller, hoping that maybe Mingyu won’t—

“Hyung?” Mingyu’s voice is closer now, followed by footsteps that stop just in front of Wonwoo. He sees Mingyu’s obnoxious red shoes.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, and—

Something about the way he says it shatters Wonwoo into millions of pieces. It’s gentle, warm, kind, everything Mingyu is, and everything Wonwoo is not, because he’s evil, he’s the worst—

Wonwoo falls to his knees with a strangled sob, crying and crying and crying, and his head pounds and his throat hurts—

“Hyung!” Mingyu panics, going to the floor with him. “Hey, hey, it’s just me here. It’s just me. Can I touch you? Would that be okay? Do you want a hug?”

Wonwoo falls into Mingyu’s chest, desperate for his familiar warmth, desperate to get away from the ice under his skin that threatens to take over him completely.

Mingyu wraps his arms around him, squeezes him so tightly that they almost meld together into one being. He moves Wonwoo’s head under his chin, and his legs trap Wonwoo’s thighs on either side, caging him in, acting as a fortress, and finally, finally, finally, Wonwoo is safe.

He hides in Mingyu’s neck, lets the tears flow because it’s no use trying to stop them. Usually, he stops them before they can start, but he wasn’t prepared to see Youngho. He wasn’t prepared to run across Seoul until he passed out, and now, his energy is depleted. All he can think about is Youngho and his words, the way he looked at him with such vitriol, as if Wonwoo had crawled out of the depths of hell and was baring his teeth at him.

Distantly, he feels Mingyu’s fingers running through his hair, and he thinks he hears Mingyu’s voice softly mumbling things to him, but Wonwoo is so out of it that he can only really feel guilt weighing down on his chest. Is he corrupting Mingyu? Is he corrupting Mingyu’s friends? Is he the real reason why the shadows are after them?

“Mingyu-yah,” he whispers, only audible because the hall is so silent. “I don’t want to be evil.”

Mingyu pauses for several seconds before he says, “What? What did that guy say to you? Yah, hyung, you’re the furthest thing from evil, okay? You’re the kindest person in the world, and you- you’re just good. The goodest. The best, even. Not evil. Never evil.”

“Then why do I see death? Why does it only happen to me?” Wonwoo holds onto Mingyu a little tighter. “I don’t- I don’t want your friends to die. I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m not going anywhere, hyung, and neither are they,” Mingyu says firmly. “I’m not leaving you. Ever. I promise. No matter what.” Mingyu’s breath catches. “Even in death, I’d come back. I owe you that much, don’t I?”

Wonwoo laughs, but it sounds closer to a sob. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then I’ll come back just because I want to.”

He pulls away to wrap his hands around Wonwoo’s face, tilting his head up. Mingyu frowns when he sees his injured cheek, fingers gentle as they flutter across Wonwoo’s skin to wipe away his tears.

“I know your dreams are hard, hyung.” Mingyu’s gaze trails over Wonwoo’s face. “But after you saved me and told me about them, I found it so easy to understand why you, out of everyone on earth, would be the one to have them.”

Wonwoo blinks at him.

Mingyu smiles, small but soft. “You care too much to just let things be, y’know? If you think you can save someone, then you don’t think about anything else until that person is safe, even if you put yourself in danger.” He meets Wonwoo’s eyes. “How could you ever think that that’s evil?”

Wonwoo looks away. “People die,” he whispers. “Inevitably. You were the first one to live. But I don’t know how long you’ll be here. I don’t know how long the others-”

“Right now, I’m here.” Mingyu rubs away the dried blood on Wonwoo’s chin. “I won’t act like your dreams are easy, hyung, but I don’t think you’re evil for having them. Honestly, I think they’re really cool.”

Wonwoo scoffs, almost laughs. “Cool?”

“Hey, don’t laugh!” Mingyu grins. “It’s just- well- have you ever thought that maybe…” He hums, trying to find his words. “Maybe you and fate are friends and not enemies?”

Wonwoo tilts his head.

“Maybe, I don’t know, the dreams are to warn you. And sometimes you can reverse what happens but sometimes you can’t. Death is inevitable, but murder isn’t, right?” Mingyu taps his finger on the side of Wonwoo’s jaw as he thinks. “Does that make sense? What I’m trying to say is that if someone takes someone’s life, they’re robbing them of their original fate. You have the power to restore it. I think that’s cool.”

Restoring has a good ring to it. It’s warm, light, almost tangible enough to hold. When Wonwoo thinks about it, he supposes Mingyu would be the first murder he’s dreamed of. Accidents are much more common, purely up to fate and fate alone, and even though Wonwoo wishes his mother and father were still here, he feels a little less burdened by their deaths if he blames them on that instead.

“So it’s not my fault?” Wonwoo murmurs, more to himself than to Mingyu, but he’s quick to respond.

“It’s never your fault. Don’t ever think that.” His smile turns sad. “Sometimes, people are just mean. And sometimes, mean people do bad things. You, little star, are not mean and you don’t do bad things.”

Wonwoo’s face burns. “Little star?”

Mingyu blinks, like he just realized what he said. He sputters, face flushing pink. “I just- okay- I didn’t mean to say that! But you’re- ah, you know, your color is the same as the night sky, and- and when you smile, you, like, light up and it’s- hey, stop laughing at me!”

Wonwoo pulls away to cover his mouth as he laughs, eyes squeezing shut from the force of it. He subconsciously leans forward, bumping into Mingyu’s shoulder, and he stays there as he continues to laugh. From here, he feels Mingyu’s embarrassed giggle more than he hears it.

“Hyung,” Mingyu whines, “come on, it’s not even that funny.”

When Wonwoo calms down, he grins up at Mingyu and says, “Sorry, little sun, but it is-”

“That sounds like a cartoon character!”

“Okay, okay, how about…” Wonwoo hums, rocking a bit before his eyes light up. “Little flower? Your color reminds me of buttercups.”

Mingyu flushes darker, the color spreading down to his neck, and when he lowers his head, Wonwoo already knows he loves the name.

“You look a little too happy about that one. Maybe I should change it.”

“Don’t you dare,” Mingyu says, glaring half-heartedly. He suddenly frowns when he spots something on Wonwoo’s face. “That cut is starting to bleed again. We should head inside.”

Wonwoo flusters, remembering that they’re sitting—cuddling, really—on the floor in the hallway of their very public dorm building. He quickly gets to his feet, sliding his student ID through his door’s keypad to hide his pink cheeks.

Wonwoo’s room is simple. The walls are blank, save for a window that looks out into the courtyard and two huge bookcases that stand on either side like guardians. He makes it a point to keep his bed neatly made, all of his books neatly organized, and all of his school supplies neatly sorted on his desk under the window. There are a couple of books on his bedside table that he’s been trying to finish, and hidden in his drawers are stickers and figurines for games that he likes.

The doors to his closet are always closed, but at the very top where the cubbies are, he’s stashed away his mother’s (unfinished) scrapbook and her last skein of yarn. Beside it sits his father’s camera and a few pictures that Wonwoo’s aunt gave him after she’d looked through the apartment. Wonwoo can’t knit and he can’t take pictures, but he wants to, some day. Maybe Mingyu could teach him photography.

“Wow, your room is…” Mingyu pauses. “Clean. Do you actually live here?”

Wonwoo scoffs and nudges him further inside so he can shut the door. “Yes, but I’m usually at the library.”

“Right. Do you- uh, you have a first aid kit, right? Somewhere?”

Wonwoo finds it for him, fetching it from under his bed. It was the first thing his aunt gave him when he moved in. He finds it ironic that he has to use it because of her fiance, but he also isn’t all that surprised.

Mingyu makes him sit on his desk as he rifles through the kit. Wonwoo watches him curiously.

“You’re not going to use your magic this time?” he asks.

“I already had to use it once today,” Mingyu says, giving Wonwoo a meaningful look before he returns his attention to the kit. “Jeonghannie hyung is making me limit myself as my core heals.” He hesitates. “Before I transferred here, I went through magic exhaustion a lot. Like, once a week. So my magic isn’t as strong as it used to be. Hyung said I have to limit it so I can build it back up.”

Wonwoo frowns but says nothing. After a moment, Mingyu looks back up at him. “Does your cheek hurt a lot? If it’s really bad, then I don’t mind-”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, it’s all right. You should only use your magic when you need to.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m not taking your injury seriously-”

“Gyu-yah,” Wonwoo says gently, “it’s okay. A band-aid works fine.”

Mingyu still looks unsure, but he relents in favor of focusing on the different antiseptics. He eventually picks out an ointment and a band-aid, and after spraying a cotton pad, he reaches out to hold Wonwoo’s jaw.

Wonwoo freezes but relaxes just as quickly, keeping his eyes on Mingyu’s face as he wipes off dried blood. He’s gentle but insistent, and his brow pinches as he focuses, mouth open slightly, his tongue barely visible. The natural light from the window bathes him in a bright glow, his eyes appearing golden, his bangs casting scattered shadows over his face. There’s a mole near the bottom of his left cheek, Wonwoo notes a little dazedly, and there’s a small cut in his bottom lip that’s scabbed over.

Mingyu’s voice is soft when he says, “I didn’t see these before.” His thumb brushes over Wonwoo’s jaw, light enough not to trigger the pain of the bruises. They still ache, but Wonwoo is quickly distracted by how beautiful Mingyu looks when he bites his lip as he considers how to treat them.

“It’s not bad,” Wonwoo says, just as soft. He’s not sure why they’re being quiet.

“He shouldn’t have touched you at all,” Mingyu replies, meeting Wonwoo’s eyes. A second passes before he sighs and pulls away to grab the ointment. “I should’ve been there.”

“No. I’m glad you weren’t.”

Mingyu chuckles and smiles at him, and Wonwoo’s heart sings and he can’t even hush it this time, helplessly endeared by how gently Mingyu’s hand returns to his jaw.

“I want to protect you sometimes, too, you know,” Mingyu says, still smiling, snaggletooth peeking out for barely a second but Wonwoo sees it. “You can’t do it every time, hyung.”

“Why not?” He barely feels it when Mingyu lays the band-aid out across his cheek.

“It’s not fair.”

Wonwoo laughs, caught off-guard. It tapers off when he realizes Mingyu is watching him, his eyes soft, his smile softer, something in his face that Wonwoo can’t read. Whatever it is, it sends a flurry of butterflies skittering up between his ribs, leaving him a little breathless.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He lowers his eyes, his cheeks burning.

“Why can’t I?” Mingyu asks, tone teasing. “You’re cute.”

Wonwoo’s cheeks burn hotter. He wants to turn away and hide his face, but Mingyu reaches out for him again to apply some kind of bruise cream to his jaw. Wonwoo settles with staring at Mingyu’s mole.

“You always say embarrassing things,” Wonwoo mumbles.

Mingyu laughs, his mole raising as he smiles. “Am I not allowed to call my hyung cute? Anyone would agree with me. I know Jeonghannie hyung and Seungcheollie hyung do. After you fell asleep last night, they told me to bring you to their apartment more often.”

Wonwoo looks up to meet Mingyu’s eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah! Everyone thought you were super nice. Seokmin-ah asked about you the other day, too. I think it was right after we hung out? I’m not sure. But he wanted to know when he’d see you again.”

“Your friends are all very kind.”

“They are.” Mingyu’s smile softens.

He’s stopped rubbing in the burn cream, but his hand stays where it is. His thumb brushes against Wonwoo’s uninjured cheek, and instinctually, Wonwoo leans into it, a soft exhale leaving his nose. It’s nice. Mingyu is nice.

“Hyung,” Mingyu says, quiet, hesitant, “do you- do you need me to look at your arms?”

When Wonwoo tenses, Mingyu quickly adds, “It’s okay if you don’t! I know you don’t like talking about them. But if you’re still using bandages-”

“They’ve healed,” Wonwoo murmurs, unable to look up. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Oh. Why are you using those bandages, then? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

Wonwoo pulls away from Mingyu’s hold. “It’s fine. I just- I prefer it that way.”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment. “Okay. But hyung, you know I wouldn’t judge you for whatever happened, right? Or what your arms look like.”

Wonwoo shuts his eyes, ignores how his heart feels like it’s being torn and put back together at the same time. He’s too emotionally exhausted for all of this. Too exhausted in general.

“It has nothing to do with you, Gyu-yah. It’s just something I struggle with.”

His eyes snap open when Mingyu suddenly brings him into a hug, warm and safe as they always are. It’s a quick one this time, but it still leaves Wonwoo feeling fuzzy.

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” Mingyu says with a grin. “I know I talk a lot, but I swear I’m a good listener.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Wonwoo teases.

“Yah! Hyung!” Mingyu whines, but his face is bright. “I swear I’m-” His phone interrupts him, vibrating loudly from his pocket. He shoots Wonwoo an apologetic look as he puts it to his ear.

“Kim Mingyu!”

Mingyu winces and scowls from the volume. He sighs. “Yes, Soonyoung hyung?” He looks at Wonwoo and points to his phone, mouthing, He’s crazy. Wonwoo struggles to stifle a laugh.

“You’re coming for dinner, right? And you’re bringing your camera?”

Mingyu pulls away from his phone to look at the time, blinking in surprise. When he puts his phone back to his ear, he says, “I didn’t realize it was getting so late. When do you need me?”

“I told Channie five o’clock, but I’m telling you four. You’re always late!”

Mingyu laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, hyung. I swear I’ll be there, but-” He puts his hand over his phone and looks at Wonwoo. “Do you want to come?”

Wonwoo stares at him with raised eyebrows. “Me?”

Mingyu grins. “Yes, you. Who else?”

“Uh- I don’t know. Would that be okay?”

“Hyung won’t mind. But you don’t have work tonight, right?”

As soon as Wonwoo shakes his head no, Mingyu uncovers his phone and says, “I’m bringing a friend. Will there be enough food?”

“Jihoonie hyung is cooking tonight, and he always makes too much. Channie might be bringing something, too. We’re thinking kimchi fried rice and dakgaejang. I encourage you to bring your friend, actually.”

“What? Dakgaejang? Is Jihoonie hyung planning on leaving you with that as leftovers for a week?”

The person on the phone laughs. “Right? Honestly, I think it’s because he hasn’t seen Channie in a while and he wants to spoil him. But you know how hyung is. He’d never say it.” The line crackles for a second, as if there’s a muffled voice in the background. “Oh, shit, he might’ve heard me. Get here safely, okay, Gyu-yah? Love you!”

“Love you, too, hy-” Mingyu blinks when the phone beeps before he finishes. Wonwoo snorts.

“Was that Jihoon-ah’s friend?” he asks. “I remember him mentioning a Soonyoung.”

“Boyfriend, actually,” Mingyu says as he puts his phone back in his pocket. “They’re roommates- or, well, housemates, I guess. Jihoonie hyung rented an apartment this semester and invited him. I don’t know how they survive, to be honest. They’re both workaholics and they don’t like to cook.”

Wonwoo hums and leans back on his hands. “Is tonight’s dinner a special occasion, then?”

Mingyu’s face lights up. “Oh, yes! Our friend Chan got accepted into this really fancy dance program. I don’t remember the name, but Soonyoungie hyung is in the program, too, and he says it’s a big deal. Something about getting more opportunities for scholarships and internships? I don’t know, he said it in the group chat and things tend to get buried in there.”

“Is it really okay for me to just, like, show up?”

Mingyu waves a dismissive hand. “It’ll be fine! Jihoonie hyung knows you already, anyway. And both Soonyoungie hyung and Channie-yah are really friendly. Trust me, hyung, it’s impossible not to like you.”

Wonwoo’s face blooms pink, and he’s getting really sick and tired of Mingyu spouting such lovely words expecting no consequences. (He isn’t tired of it. He doesn’t think he ever will be.)

“There you go again,” Wonwoo says, lightly hitting Mingyu’s arm. “Saying weird things. Do you hear yourself?”

“Loud and clear.” Mingyu grins, reaching up to fix Wonwoo’s bangs so they don’t hang in his eyes anymore. Wonwoo blinks as Mingyu starts cleaning up the first aid kit as if nothing happened. “I know this is all sudden, though. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot about going.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll just have to wear a face mask.”

Mingyu looks up with a frown. He studies Wonwoo’s face for a moment then sighs. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t think Jihoonie hyung or Chan-ah would ask you about it, but Soonyoungie hyung is kind of nosy.” Mingyu pauses, still looking at Wonwoo, before he says, “Hyung, do you- do you mind telling me what happened? Or just, like, who that man was? I know it’s-”

“His name is Nam Youngho,” Wonwoo says easily, because he was waiting for Mingyu to ask, and he figures he owes him an explanation. “He’s my uncle-in-law and he hates me.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen. “Your uncle?”

“In-law,” Wonwoo adds. “He hates that I’m a magic user. He thinks-” he falters, eyes falling. He clears his throat. “He thinks I killed my parents—his fiancée’s little sister and her husband.”

“Oh.” Mingyu’s eyes harden. “So he blames you for something you couldn’t control?”

Wonwoo is still reeling from that kind of mindset. Part of him still thinks he could’ve changed their fates, even after all these years. That part of him is insistent, present for every dream he’s ever had. But maybe- just maybe, Wonwoo was never able to change them at all.

“I guess so,” he mumbles.

“You guess so? Were your parents murdered?” Mingyu pauses, horrified. “Oh, my god, wait, that was so insensitive, hyung, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo says with a small smile. “My mother died in a car accident. The other driver fell asleep at the wheel, so it really was an accident. And my father died falling down the stairs.”

“Both of those things were out of your control! No guessing, hyung!” Mingyu narrows his eyes at him. “You weren’t at fault at all. He just wants someone to blame.”

“He wants to put me in jail.”

“How?” Mingyu’s eyes flash dangerously. “There’s no way he can do that! There’s no evidence for it! He just has his own prejudice! There’s no way that you, the nicest person I’ve ever met, could possibly be a murderer! Does he not know you at all? Has he ever actually investigated it? God, it’s so stupid that he’s a police officer! He shouldn’t be in that position!”

Warmth settles in Wonwoo’s chest as he watches Mingyu rant. He uses his hands as he talks, and the more he goes on, the faster he gets, his lisp becoming more and more prominent.

“Seriously, hyung, don’t believe anything that man says! He just wants to scare you. If he could actually arrest you, he would’ve done it already. All he can do is make empty threats that he’ll never actually follow through with. Just because you’re ‘family’-” Mingyu uses air quotes and a funny voice, “-doesn’t mean anything! Family members can still be assholes to you, and you don’t owe them shit! Not your forgiveness, not your kindness, not anything! And if they-”

Wonwoo reaches out to stop Mingyu’s hands from moving, effectively cutting him off. “Okay, Gyu-yah, okay. I understand.”

Mingyu’s shoulders drop as he catches his breath. He intertwines his fingers with Wonwoo’s and squeezes. “Sorry, I just- I don’t want him to hurt you again.”

Wonwoo falters, unsure how to respond. He isn’t able to promise that it won’t happen again. He isn’t able to promise that he’s safe, that Youngho is gone for good. And honestly, now that the excitement from the day has dissipated, he feels exhaustion weighing down on his bones, stealing the words from his brain as soon as they form.

“But it’s okay, because I’m here now!” Mingyu grins, grabbing Wonwoo’s other hand to hold it. “I’m not much of a fighter, but I can throw a punch if I need to! If he tries- hyung?”

Wonwoo freezes mid-yawn. He blinks. “Sorry.”

“Are you sleepy?” Mingyu laughs, squeezing Wonwoo’s hands again.”It’s only two o’clock. Why don’t you rest and I’ll wake you up when it’s time to go?”

“You’re not tired?”

“Well, a little, but-”

Wonwoo takes off his glasses and slides off the desk, tugging Mingyu with him towards his bed. He ignores Mingyu’s confused laughter in favor of dropping on top of the blankets. He pulls Mingyu down with him, grinning when he yelps in surprise, and pulls the comforter over their bodies as he tries not to impale himself on Mingyu’s elbow.

“Hyung? Is this you asking to cuddle?” Mingyu looks down at him with a certain glint in his eye, as if proud of this development.

“I’m not asking.” Wonwoo turns on his side to get more comfortable, wall cold against his back from where he’s squished up against it. “‘S nap time.”

Mingyu snorts. “Okay. Nap time it is, then. I’ll set an alarm.”

After a bit of maneuvering, he slides his arm underneath Wonwoo’s head to move him closer, sighing contentedly when he lays against his chest. Mingyu’s other arm sits across Wonwoo’s waist, not quite holding him, instead acting as a grounding weight. Their legs get tangled somewhere in the process, and as soon as Mingyu’s fingers start threading through Wonwoo’s hair, he’s fully melted into him.

“Rest well, little star hyung,” Mingyu whispers, teasing.

Wonwoo only hums, digging his nose into Mingyu’s neck in a feeble attempt at retaliation. The last thing he hears is Mingyu’s giggle.

They end up getting to Jihoon and Soonyoung’s apartment late. By the time Mingyu wakes Wonwoo up, it’s already past four o’clock, and when Wonwoo sends him a withering look, Mingyu just smiles and says he wanted Wonwoo to get more sleep.

“I’ll get more sleep later. Didn’t your hyung tell you off for being late before?”

“It’s fine! He doesn’t actually get mad!”

In the end, Wonwoo just sighs, because Mingyu doesn’t look guilty at all and honestly, that was the best sleep Wonwoo has ever had. He’d never admit that, of course. Mingyu’s ego is big enough.

Before Mingyu knocks on the door to his hyungs’ apartment, he tells Wonwoo, “Be prepared for the mess and try to ignore all the soda cans.”

Wonwoo is still processing when the door suddenly opens.

“Wow, hyung, you made it!” the man at the door says, eyes as sharp as his grin. His expression is bright even though Mingyu is late. “You were really starting to push it this time.”

“Ey, of course not,” Mingyu says, grinning back at him. “I had to wrangle this hyung-” It takes one glare from Wonwoo for him to backtrack. “Okay, fine, it was my fault.”

“Oh! Soonyoungie hyung mentioned you’d bring a friend.” The man turns to Wonwoo with a bow, his smile brightening. “I’m Chan!”

Wonwoo blinks, surprised by the enthusiasm. He awkwardly bows his head. “Wonwoo.”

“Ooh, your voice is really deep!”

“Chan-ah! Is that Mingyu and his friend?” Jihoon calls, prompting Chan to open the door wider to let Wonwoo and Mingyu inside.

The apartment is small, and like Mingyu had said, there are random soda cans scattered throughout on tables and countertops. Oddly, the space in the living room is free of furniture, but as they walk into the kitchen, Wonwoo sees a quaint dinner table in the corner that looks like it could seat up to six people. It’s already filled with food, and seeing it reminds Wonwoo how hungry he is, distracting him from all the clothes strewn across the apartment and the ukulele that lays haphazardly on top of the fridge.

“I knew it’d be you, Wonwoo-yah,” Jihoon says with a smile as he places the last bowl of banchan on the table. “Mingyu follows you around everywhere these days.”

“Isn’t he the one that follows me?” Mingyu huffs.

“No, you drag him around.”

“You know Wonwoo-ssi, hyung?” Chan asks Jihoon, stealing a bite of shredded squid from one of the bowls.

“Seokmin and I met him a few days ago.” Jihoon narrows his eyes at Chan. “Isn’t the youngest supposed to start eating last?”

Chan’s chewing slows. “Uh- I didn’t know Wonwoo-ssi was older than me.”

“Yah, don’t lie to your hyung.”

“Is Mingyu finally here?” Soonyoung asks as he walks into the kitchen. “It took him long enough.”

When Wonwoo turns to greet him, he pauses.

The last thing he expected today was to meet not one, but two familiar faces. It takes him a moment to realize that Mingyu’s Soonyoung is also his Soonyoung—the Soonyoung he hasn’t seen in almost a year.

He looks different with platinum dyed hair, but it’s nice. He might’ve lost a little weight, but even still, his cheeks are full and his eyes are sharp. He wears sweatpants and a jacket that hangs off his shoulders, the same as he always has, and it makes Wonwoo realize that it really hasn’t been that long at all.

“Wait-” Soonyoung blinks, processing Wonwoo’s presence for one, two, three, four- “Wonwoo? Jeon Wonwoo!”

Everyone looks between them, confused. Mingyu opens his mouth but before he can ask anything, Soonyoung runs towards Wonwoo to swallow him in a hug, somehow able to overwhelm his height through sheer force, almost knocking him down to the floor.

“Hello, Soonyoung-ah,” Wonwoo says softly, patting his back.

“You!” Soonyoung yells, pulling away to glare at him, pointing a finger in his face. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever! And you never answered my texts or my calls or-”

“Am I the only one who doesn’t know Wonwoo-ssi?” Chan asks, his brow furrowed.

“This!” Soonyoung starts, spinning around to face the others. “Is my long lost best friend! He is very smart and very nice and he’s the one that encouraged me to transfer here, but!” Soonyoung glares at Wonwoo. “The last I heard from you was when you mailed me an apology letter, which is just unacceptable!”

Wonwoo’s skin prickles. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “Um- I’m sorry-”

“No!” Soonyoung crosses his arms. “No apologizing! You did enough of that already.” Quieter, he asks, “Are you okay? That letter was-”

“I know,” Wonwoo says quickly, glancing at the others before he meets Soonyoung’s eyes again. “I’ll tell you later. But I’m doing better now.”

“Hold on, I’m confused.” Mingyu frowns. “How do you guys know each other?”

“We went to the same university. He saved my grade in physics,” Soonyoung replies with a grave nod. “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have passed.”

“You weren’t that bad. You just got mixed up sometimes,” Wonwoo says.

“You have the patience of a saint, you know that?” Soonyoung looks at him with a little smile before he turns back to Mingyu. “Anyway, we became friends like that. But then during my last semester there, he stopped coming to class and he wouldn’t reply to my texts anymore. There were-” He stops, looks down and then at Wonwoo. “There were rumors you died, Wonwoo-yah.”

Wonwoo can’t bring himself to look at anyone.

“I didn’t,” he says, like that will fix everything. “I transferred here. And then I met Mingyu and some of his friends and now I’m here.”

Soonyoung stares at him. “You do realize there’s eight months of time you’re missing, right?”

“Are we all going to stand here and let the food get cold, or what?” Jihoon asks, already starting to spoon some of the dakgaejang into his bowl. “I spent all day on this, you know.”

“I am starving!” Mingyu says with way too much excitement, dragging Wonwoo away from Soonyoung to sit next to him at the table. “It looks amazing, hyung, wow!”

“You’re so bad at acting,” Chan mumbles under his breath, but he doesn’t say anything else as he sits on Wonwoo’s other side.

“Soonyoung-ah, come on.” Jihoon gestures for him to come forward. “I made kimchi fried rice because you asked for it, so you better eat it.”

It takes a little more coaxing for Soonyoung to actually sit down—which includes Jihoon shoving a piece of chicken and daepa into his mouth—but once he does, he begrudgingly starts piling kimchi fried rice onto his plate. He steals glances at Wonwoo every other bite.

As soon as everyone has started, Chan stuffs food into his mouth, uncaring for the disgusted look Jihoon sends him. Wonwoo stifles a laugh.

“Thank you for the food, Jihoon-ah,” he says, avoiding Soonyoung’s piercing eyes.

“Don’t mention it,” Jihoon says, waving him off.

“What? Whenever I say thank-you, you say I don’t mean it!” Chan frowns.

“You’re fun to tease, maknae-yah.” Mingyu grins. “You always get so worked up.”

Chan continues to grumble as his hyungs tease him. Feeling a bit bad, Wonwoo sneaks more shredded squid and chicken into his bowl. The others are too busy talking to notice, but Chan’s eyes go wide when he looks down. He quickly turns to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo pulls his face mask up a little higher to hide his smile, putting a finger to his lips. Chan’s entire face lights up as he gives a small bow of his head before he starts eating.

“Yah, Wonwoo hyung, eat more, would you?” Mingyu piles a heaping portion of kimchi fried rice onto his plate. “You’re so thin. Seriously, I have to cook you something so you-”

“You always say this,” Wonwoo says, glaring at Mingyu without any real heat. “I’m just a slow eater. Not everyone bulldozes through food like you do.”

“Bulldozes? That’s a bit much-”

Chan laughs way too hard, to the point that Wonwoo suspects he’s been waiting for this moment all night.

“All right, Mingyu-yah, stop doting on your boyfriend and eat,” Jihoon says, ignoring the choked noise Mingyu makes in response. “Lord knows I need you to devour this. Soonyoung and I will be no match for the leftovers.”

Wonwoo flushes pink, his eyes stuck on his plate as he fidgets with his chopsticks. A beat of silence passes, only filled with the sounds of eating and chopsticks clanging against bowls, but neither he nor Mingyu correct Jihoon. Wonwoo flusters even more as the seconds pass, but before he can decide whether or not he should point out the misunderstanding, Soonyoung pipes up.

“So, Wonwoo-yah, how’d you meet Mingyu?”

As soon as Wonwoo looks up, he catches Mingyu’s eye.

Should we tell them? he seems to ask, an eyebrow raised.

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek before he replies with a silent I’ll say a little.

“At the library,” he says, turning his gaze to Soonyoung, ignoring the others’ confused glances. “I realized we were in the same class so I lent him a book.”

“Oh.” Soonyoung frowns. “That’s boring. I met Jihoon in a burning building, back when the registrar’s office was still standing. Well, it was burning at the time, but-”

“Soonyoung-ah,” Jihoon admonishes, “you’re saying this over dinner? Really? Isn’t this supposed to be to celebrate Chan or whatever?”

“Or whatever?” Chan scoffs. “Wow, just wow. I can’t believe it was Jihoon hyung that said it.”

“Congratulations on your acceptance,” Wonwoo says with an awkward smile.

“Thank you, Wonwoo hyung! Finally, someone here who has manners and basic human decency!” Chan leans back and crosses his arms with a huff.

“Careful, hyung, his ego is huge. You might inflate it to the point that it’s too late,” Mingyu says.

“He’s still young. I just have to worry about you.”

“See, this is why Wonwoo is my favorite hyung,” Chan says smugly. He tries to hang his arm off Wonwoo’s shoulders, but he’s too short, so he can only awkwardly lean against him.

“He didn’t say you could talk informally,” Mingyu says, trying to fight a smile.

“Wonwoo is too nice for everyone here.” Jihoon sighs. “I want to be there the day he snaps.”

Wonwoo laughs. “I really don’t mind.”

“It’s true,” Soonyoung says as he gulps down a bottle of cola. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him get angry, or even get loud.”

“Really? He’s gotten angry with me a few times,” Mingyu says. “Or just annoyed.”

“Because you’re annoying,” Wonwoo says, grinning when Mingyu glares at him. His glare drops when everyone starts laughing at him.

“Guys, come on,” he whines, pouting. “You shouldn’t be laughing this hard.”

“Wonwoo is keeping you in check,” Jihoon says. “It’s about time someone did. I was starting to get scared that we weren’t enough.”

“Oh! Wonwoo-yah, what happened to your cheek?” Soonyoung asks, eyes wide.

Wonwoo freezes, smile dropping from his face. His mask must have fallen while he was eating and laughing. He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling cold.

“It was just- uh-”

“It’s been a long day,” Mingyu says, hooking his pinky around Wonwoo’s under the table.

“I’ll tell you later,” Wonwoo mumbles, adjusting his mask.

“I already told Soonyoungie about the shadows,” Jihoon says. “And Chan-ah knows a little bit. Does it have something to do with that?”

“Um, not really,” Wonwoo says hesitantly.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “Is there someone else we need to take care of?”

“Wonwoo-yah,” Soonyoung calls, prompting him to look at him, “it’s him, right? The guy who’s obsessed with magic users?”

Wonwoo looks down, quiet. “I don’t think we should discuss this over dinner-”

“No, I think we should!” Chan says, with much more passion than Wonwoo was expecting. “It’s my celebratory dinner, and I say we should talk about it!”

“It wasn’t that bad-”

“Hyung, you cried for almost an hour after he left.” Mingyu looks at him, his brow pinched. “He told you you were evil! And he hit you! I know you like to keep stuff private, but seriously, this can’t happen again.”

“Is that why you transferred?” Soonyoung asks.

Wonwoo shrinks in on himself, tapping a chopstick against his thigh, unable to look at anyone. He can only manage a nod, because yes, that’s partly it. It’s three-fourths of the reason. The last fourth will remain close to his chest, wrapped in bandages and hidden under his sleeves.

“He showed up at our dorm building,” Mingyu says, squeezing Wonwoo’s finger. “I don’t think hyung was expecting him, either.”

“I wasn’t supposed to see him ever again. That’s what-” Aunt Eunkyung said. That’s what she promised.

“I don’t like that he knows where you live,” Soonyoung says. “You only ever mentioned snippets, but I was legitimately afraid he’d kill you one day.”

“We wouldn’t mind having you stay here, Wonwoo-yah,” Jihoon adds. “It’s kind of messy, but-”

“No, it’s okay.” Wonwoo shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude, and campus is twenty minutes away by bus. It would only be a hassle for all of us.”

“We’ll just have to employ the buddy system, right?” Mingyu wraps his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. “We live in the same dorm. I’ll stay with him until we get it cleared up.”

Wonwoo glares at him. Mingyu grins back.

“Jihoonie hyung, can you pass the kimchi?” Chan asks, chopsticks already prepared in his hand.

Jihoon stares at him, unimpressed. “Can you not read the room?” Despite his words, he slides the kimchi across the table.

“I can read the room and eat at the same time,” Chan retorts, glaring at Jihoon as he plops kimchi into his rice. “And I say the room is pretty bleak. Mingyu hyung, why don’t you take pictures?”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Yeah! Here, I’ll pose with Wonwoo hyung.” Chan pulls Wonwoo’s chair back until he can lean over his shoulder.

Wonwoo watches him curiously, letting Chan adjust their chairs and turn his head from side to side, changing his facial expression and hand gesture until he suddenly smacks Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“This! This is it, hyung. Just copy me,” he tells him, tilting his head with a cocky smirk on his face as Mingyu readies his camera. Chan raises an eyebrow, eyes trained on the lens, and holds the pose for so long that Wonwoo can’t help but burst into laughter. His eyes squeeze shut right as the camera clicks, and he can’t stop laughing even as Chan whines.

“Sorry, sorry, Chan-ah, I was just-”

“You were supposed to copy me! Now I’ll look weird!”

“I wasn’t expecting you to- to uh-” Wonwoo struggles to find his words, covering his mouth to hide his smile. “I wasn’t expecting you to go with that concept.”

“It’s okay, hyung. If you were able to do this on the first try, then you’d probably be the perfect human being.”

Wonwoo blinks. “What?”

“Hyungs, we need to pose all together. This is my night, remember?” Chan grins at the others.

“Look at our baby making demands,” Soonyoung coos. “All right, Channie, we’ll take a group picture. Jihoon, don’t make that face.”

“But Mingyu always takes a million pictures,” Jihoon mumbles.

“I don’t take that many,” Mingyu says, rolling his eyes. “Oh, Channie, could you stand up? Jihoonie hyung, don’t sit down yet. And if you could all scoot in a bit closer…”

It takes a few minutes to arrange all the plates and bowls in a way that Mingyu deems satisfactory, and it takes another few minutes for all of them to pose in a way that doesn’t have him calling out directions for someone to straighten their back, or for someone to lean in a little more, or for Chan to please stop eating for one second, I’m almost done!

Finally, after Wonwoo brings his mask up over his nose and adjusts his glasses, Mingyu gives them a thumbs up and his camera clicks, thankfully with no flash. More clicks follow as he squints behind the camera, hunching his shoulders and backing up a few steps before he takes more pictures from the ground. Wonwoo almost snorts.

“Yah, Mingyu-yah, come get in the shot with us. You can leave it on a timer, right?” Soonyoung asks.

“Sure, just give me a second.”

After Mingyu sets the camera on top of a tripod, he presses a couple of buttons and then runs over to Wonwoo’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist as he grins towards the camera. Wonwoo’s smile comes naturally as he rests his arm on Mingyu’s shoulder, but when the camera clicks, he realizes he forgot to look at the lens.

“Please tell me that’s all of them,” Jihoon says with a huff, leaning his head against Soonyoung as if his energy had been entirely drained.

“Yup! I’ll look through them, but that should be good.” Mingyu slips away from Wonwoo to retrieve the camera.

“It always feels like Christmas family photos or something,” Chan says, dropping into a chair.

“You were the one that wanted this.” Jihoon glares at him as he picks out a piece of chicken.

“Come on, guys! It’s to celebrate our Channie’s acceptance into the Seventeen Carat Dance Program!” Soonyoung beams so brightly that his eyes curl. “I’m so proud of our baby! Chan-ah, I’m so proud of you!” He reaches over the table to squeeze Chan’s cheeks, but he quickly leans away.

“You’re almost as bad as Jeonghannie hyung.” Chan scowls. “I’m not a baby!”

“Aigoo, look at our baby,” Mingyu says teasingly, flipping the viewfinder of his camera to show them a zoom-in of Chan smiling.

Wonwoo stifles a laugh as Soonyoung starts cooing over Chan even more. Jihoon joins in, too, speaking right into Chan’s ear, making him flinch in surprise. They only stop when Soonyoung tickles his sides, making him giggle to the point of tears. Then the adoring smiles turn real.

“Useless hyungs,” Chan says without any real bite. He turns his attention to Wonwoo. “Hyung, I thought I could trust you! I can’t believe you let them attack me.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Sorry.”

Chan sighs dramatically. “You’re not sorry at all!”

“Yah, be quiet and eat. It’s already starting to get cold after Mingyu made us take pictures for thirty minutes,” Jihoon says, pointing at Chan’s half-full plate with his chopsticks.

“It was maybe fifteen!” Mingyu says.

Wonwoo is already starting to get full, but Mingyu and Chan continue to slip more food onto his plate for the next hour. It’s not spicy seafood jjigae, and he’s not at his grandmother’s house, but he finds the same warmth swelling in his chest, anyway.

❦ ❦ ❦

Mingyu has been living with him for a little over two weeks, and it’s both worse and better than Wonwoo was expecting.

Certain things are inevitable—he’s walked in on Mingyu naked twice, barely catching a glimpse of flexed muscles as he changes before Wonwoo immediately walks back out. Mingyu made fun of him for that, teasing him for how red his face was, and Wonwoo could only glare.

Mingyu’s schedule was also something he had to get used to. Mingyu always sets a minimum of five alarms, starting at six o’clock in the morning and continuing for the next forty-five minutes. If he still isn’t up, Wonwoo pushes him off the bed.

Sharing a bed with someone is new, too, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind it. Sometimes, Mingyu snores, and sometimes, it’s so loud that it wakes Wonwoo up, but all it takes is a whispered Kim Mingyu, shut the fuck up right into his ear to silence him. Other than that, Wonwoo has no issues with their sleeping arrangement. Mingyu is a tall, squishy, human heater, and Wonwoo gets cold easily.

He thought he’d see Mingyu more, and while that is true, it’s not as often as Wonwoo was expecting (or hoping). The only days their schedules align at all is on Mondays and Wednesdays, but Mingyu’s stupid seven o’clock class is every weekday and ends right before their cinematography class with Seungkwan, so they only see each other in the classroom. They walk back to their dorm together and occasionally get lunch on the way, but Mingyu is busy with the photography club on Mondays and Thursdays and Wonwoo works almost every night at the library.

It’s frustrating and Wonwoo doesn’t quite know why. Whenever he sees Mingyu, he feels warmth twirl around his ribs, and the smile that comes to his face is automatic. He thought he’d get sick of seeing him, but the quick greetings and goodbyes every day only serve to make Wonwoo miss him more.

Fortunately, today is a Friday and Wonwoo has just finished his shift at the library. It’s been a long week of readings and essays and he feels oddly giddy about returning to his dorm, returning to Mingyu, where he’s probably already in bed. Wonwoo’s heart flutters at the thought; even though they hardly see each other throughout the week, the nights when Wonwoo returns never change.

He passes through the courtyard, humming under his breath as he sees all the familiar flowers that he can never name. When he rounds the corner to enter his dorm building, he freezes.

A wave of cold crashes over him as soon as he sees the police uniform through the windows. He feels a sense of déjà vu as he takes a step back, almost expecting Mingyu to be beside him. This time, he’s alone, and he tells himself that’s a good thing, that it’s—

Wait.

Through the windows, he realizes Youngho is talking, and the door to Wonwoo’s room is open just slightly. His heart thuds in his chest. Of course Mingyu would answer the door. Of course Mingyu would take it upon himself to get in an argument with Wonwoo’s uncle-in-law.

Pushing past the fear that threatens to swallow him whole, Wonwoo takes a deep breath and continues forward through the door.

“-not welcome here! What don’t you understand?” Mingyu isn’t yelling, but he’s not trying to be quiet, either.

“Wonwoo-yah!” Youngho turns towards him with a grin that shows too many teeth. “Thank goodness you’re here! Would you mind telling your friend that I’m only family visiting? I think he’s paranoid because of the incident down at Dongsan-ro.”

Wonwoo almost laughs at the irony.

“He knows why you’re here,” he says, surprising himself when he’s able to meet Youngho’s eyes. But when he sees them darken, sees how Youngho’s fists clench and how the tendons in his arms are pulled taut as if he’s holding himself back, Wonwoo’s gaze drops to the floor.

“Does he know what you are?” Youngho lowers his voice. “Does he know what you’ve done?”

“I- I’m not-”

“He hasn’t done anything,” Mingyu says firmly. “Stop lying to yourself, ahjussi.”

Mingyu reaches his hand out to Wonwoo, waiting, expectant. Wonwoo hesitates, still trying to fight through all the alarms ringing in his head, before he takes Mingyu’s hand. When he tugs Wonwoo closer to him, Youngho’s hand shoots out to grip Wonwoo’s arm, his fingers digging into his sleeve, into the bandage, into the—

“Wonwoo,” Youngho says slowly, “where do you think you’re going? Are you going to try and hide now that running hasn’t worked? Maybe you should give that first method another try, where you used that knife I gave you-”

In one swift movement, Mingyu yanks Wonwoo out of Youngho’s grip and steps in front of him. Mingyu stretches out his arm to keep Wonwoo behind him.

“Get out,” Mingyu says, voice heavy with an anger that Wonwoo has never heard.

“Excuse me?”

“Leave,” Mingyu says again. “You have no grounds to be here. You have no grounds to touch him or talk to him like that.”

Youngho laughs. “Son, I’m a police officer. I have every right to question a suspect-”

“I told you a million times. He hasn’t done anything. And if that’s how you question a suspect, then I’ll be sure to contact your superintendent.”

“You are obstructing-”

“If I see you again, I’m reporting you and I will get you fired. I don’t suppose Kim Miyeon rings any bells?”

Youngho goes quiet. “There’s no way you could know her. You have some nerve bluffing-”

“Do you want to test it?”

A beat of silence passes.

“Leave,” Mingyu says again, pushing Wonwoo behind him a little more. “And don’t ever come back.”

Youngho scoffs. “That little demon isn’t worth the trouble, anyway.”

It isn’t until his footsteps have faded that Mingyu shuts the door, immediately turning to Wonwoo with wide, worried eyes.

Wonwoo can only stare back at him, clutching the arm Youngho had grabbed close to his chest. He’s shaking, and his legs feel so fucking weak, and his heart is still pounding in his ears, and he can’t believe Mingyu actually did that—

“Hyung,” Mingyu murmurs, eyes softening, “it’s okay. He’s gone. I scared him away because I’m super scary.”

Wonwoo laughs, but it’s weak and he chokes on it halfway through. “You- you’re really amazing, Gyu-yah.”

Mingyu smiles at him, and it’s beautiful even though it’s sad. Slowly, he guides Wonwoo to the bed, hand on his elbow—soft, gentle, kind.

“Did he hurt you?” Mingyu asks quietly, looking at the arm Wonwoo is holding.

“I don’t know.”

Mingyu hesitates. “Can I- can I check it?”

Wonwoo shrinks back a bit, fingers curling protectively around his arm. “I- I don’t- it’s- it’s not nice, Mingyu. The- the scars are- it’s all really-”

“I don’t expect it to be pretty, hyung,” Mingyu says. He reaches out to squeeze one of Wonwoo’s hands. “I just want to take care of you. Is that okay?”

Wonwoo is quiet. He worries his lip between his teeth, holding Mingyu’s hand a little too tightly, trying to ignore how much he can’t stop shaking.

“I don’t want to force you-”

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo says, cutting Mingyu off before he can back out. “I- I’ll let you check it.”

Mingyu’s eyes light up in the same gentle way that the sun lights up the clouds. “Really? Are you sure?”

Wonwoo nods. “I trust you.”

Mingyu’s smile softens. “Thank you, hyung.”

Wonwoo looks away as Mingyu unwraps the bandages. Wonwoo focuses on his closet door instead, realizing only now that Mingyu must have stuck a cat sticker on it. He’s left his books and camera equipment beside the closet, and even though Wonwoo is a neat person, Mingyu is not. A pile of his clothes sit on the floor, and Wonwoo really hopes that they’re clean.

A gentle touch on his bare wrist catches his attention. He flinches, turning back to Mingyu.

“Won hyung,” he says, voice strained, looking down at Wonwoo’s arm, “you didn’t tell me you beat death before. I thought you were cool enough being friends with fate. Now I think you’re just trying to impress me.”

Wonwoo pauses, taking a moment to process the words, before he snorts and shakes his head.

The scars are gruesome. They’re messy and still tinged red, edges jagged from where they wrap around Wonwoo’s wrist. Some are vertical, just shy of the artery that rests underneath his skin. He hates looking at them because it’s all so chaotic, a clear representation of his mind back then, when all he wanted was to bleed out.

It’s impossible for Mingyu not to know what they’re from. The hasty directions of the marks and the distinct thoughtlessness indicate it was an attack of emotion rather than precision.

“My Won hyung,” Mingyu says again, quieter. His fingers trail over the scars, feather-light, almost ticklish, before he intertwines his fingers with Wonwoo’s. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It’s then that Wonwoo realizes Mingyu is crying.

“H-hey, Mingyu-” Wonwoo panics, brow furrowing as he leans closer. “It’s- it’s okay. They’re old. And I- I just did it the one time, I haven’t-”

Mingyu suddenly wraps him in a hug, practically suffocating him from how tightly he hangs onto him. Wonwoo isn’t sure who it’s meant to comfort more, but he relaxes into it regardless, wrapping his arms around Mingyu’s waist with a small squeeze.

“It’s okay,” he whispers into Mingyu’s hair, rocking them back and forth. “It’s okay, my light, your hyung is here. I’m here.”

Mingyu sobs into Wonwoo’s neck. It’s a heart-wrenching, guttural sound, raspy and brittle, and it brings Wonwoo to tears, too. He swallows thickly, exhales a shaky breath, and he tries to remember how Mingyu always comforts him.

“I’m- I’m not good at this sort of thing,” he says. “But just- just get it all out, okay? Cry it out. But also remember to breathe, please.”

He hesitantly raises his hand to Mingyu’s hair, tremors making it a bit more difficult for him to be as gentle as Mingyu is, but he runs his fingers through his hair, anyway. It’s soft. And fluffy. Wonwoo realizes why Mingyu likes to play with his hair so much.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Mingyu whispers, so quiet Wonwoo almost doesn’t hear him. “I should- I should be the one comforting you-”

“No. Don’t apologize for feeling things. That’s what you do best.”

Mingyu chuckles wryly. “I just- I don’t know. The thought of you- of you not being here-” He breaks down into sobs again, hiding deeper in Wonwoo’s neck.

Wonwoo stifles his own sob as tears fall down his cheeks. He’s never had someone react so strongly to his attempt before. He’d already passed out before his aunt found him, but when he was in the hospital, she was stiff and shaken, never meeting his eyes. He’s never blamed her for her reaction, and he still feels guilty for putting her through that, but this—

This is different.

“Gyu-yah,” he murmurs, losing the strength to hold up his head. He rests his cheek against Mingyu’s hair instead. “Even in death, I’d come back to you.”

Mingyu half-laughs, half-sobs, his entire body shaking. “You- you stole my line.”

Wonwoo laughs, too, sobbing into Mingyu’s hair, holding him closer than close, wanting to feel his heartbeat. “I still mean it.”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment. “You do?”

Wonwoo hums a yes, stroking the back of Mingyu’s head. “I’m just not very good with words like you are.”

Abruptly, Mingyu pulls away. Wonwoo pauses, confused, but calms when Mingyu meets his eyes as he blinks away tears. His face is flushed and the whites of his eyes are pink. His eyelashes are still heavy with tears and his hair is ruffled from Wonwoo’s hands. He looks beautiful.

“Your eyes still say enough for you,” he says with a fond smile, eyes crinkling. He wipes away Wonwoo’s tears, chuckling when he leans into his touch. “Thank you, my sweet hyung, my little star, my everything-”

“Okay, too much.” Wonwoo laughs softly, pulling away. He stops when Mingyu’s hands cup his cheeks, bringing him back down.

“One last one,” Mingyu says, grinning, his eyes almost seeming to sparkle. He presses a chaste kiss to Wonwoo’s nose. “My Wonwoo.”

Oh.

Wonwoo blinks.

Oh.

Belatedly, he remembers to close his mouth as his cheeks bloom pink. His heart sings and dances in his chest, bumping against his ribs, stealing the breath from his lungs. He can’t hush it, can’t ignore it, because he finally understands the melodies it’s been playing.

Wonwoo wants to say something, but he’s never been good at choosing his words. He wants to call Mingyu his, wants to call him his light and his little flower and all the other cheesy things Mingyu calls him with his teasing smile and soft eyes.

Instead, Wonwoo settles with hiding in Mingyu’s neck, content to focus on how he can feel the rumble of his laughter.

❦ ❦ ❦

A few days pass, and Wonwoo is starting to get suspicious about his lack of dreams.

He regularly checks the very big, very intimidating group chat Jeonghan added him to, but he only ends up scrolling for half an hour. The others talk a lot, some more than others, and it’s never about anything life-threatening. The closest thing was when Seokmin was cutting vegetables one night and managed to slice through his finger. He sent a picture and laughed about it and that was that.

On one hand, Wonwoo is relieved that everyone is safe (more or less). On the other hand, he finds himself always on edge as soon as he gets in bed. Mingyu has tried to assure him that if anything does happen, he’ll be prepared, and that their friends will be fine. His words aren’t really effective, but Wonwoo is not immune to Mingyu cuddles, so at the very least, he’s sleeping well.

Too well, he thinks, scanning the barcode of a new book. The library is quiet tonight, too, with only a handful of students scattered across the first floor. It’s peaceful hearing the fluttering of pages and the tapping of keyboard keys and the whispers between friends. Still, his nerves remain frayed.

The doors to the library open. Without looking, he gives a quiet greeting, still scanning barcodes for the new shipment of books.

“Wonwoo hyung!”

He looks up, surprised, and grins when he sees Seungkwan. There’s someone with him, too—a man with brown hair and sharp features. He looks around with a blank face, seeming both interested and uninterested. Odd.

“Seungkwan-ah, how are you?” Wonwoo says, smiling as he continues his work.

“You just saw me yesterday,” Seungkwan replies with a snort. “You know how it goes. School, work, school, work- hey, you haven’t met Vernonie, right?”

Wonwoo looks up again. The man gives a smile and a bow of his head. Wonwoo quickly returns it.

“He’s kind of shy,” Seungkwan says. “But he’s never been to the library before, which I thought was crazy. And then I realized he’s the only one who hasn’t met you, and now we’re here!”

Wonwoo tilts his head, amused. “Did you just come here to see me?”

Seungkwan crosses his arms defensively. “What’s wrong with that? I only see you in class!”

“We also came to give you this,” Vernon says. He slides over a smooth, black capsule no bigger than his thumb.

Wonwoo picks it up, squinting at it. He almost mistakes it for a flashdrive, but it’s too heavy and too square. There aren’t any markings or labels, either, and when he shakes it, it doesn’t sound hollow.

“It’s some new thing Channie made,” Seungkwan says. “We don’t know what it is, either. He just told us to give it to you today.”

Wonwoo frowns. “Why today?”

Seungkwan shrugs. “That kid is unpredictable. He did seem like he was in a rush, though. He also might have been running late for something. Who knows?”

“Isn’t he only a year younger than us?” Vernon scratches the back of his head. “He’s not really a kid.”

“He’s nineteen! A child!” Seungkwan says, glaring at him. “Nineteen is very different from twenty. Come on, Non-ah, keep up.”

Vernon chuckles, and that’s enough for Seungkwan’s glare to disappear.

“Hey, uh, sunbaenim-” Vernon starts, only to get interrupted by Seungkwan’s scoff.

“Sunbaenim? Yah, this is Jeon Wonwoo, I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone call him that. He’s just hyung.” He pauses and turns to Wonwoo. “Right?”

Wonwoo smiles and nods.

“Okay, well, uh- hyung,” Vernon says instead, “do you have this one book for Professor Song’s literature class? I have to take it for my general credits, and I plan on taking it over the summer.” When Seungkwan stares at him, he says, “What? I do need this book, you know.”

“Do you remember the title? Or the class number?” Wonwoo asks, setting down the book he was scanning to turn to the monitor.

Vernon keeps getting confused as Wonwoo asks him clarifying questions, but he’s earnest and apologetic when he tries to pull up a screenshot of the book on his phone only for it to instantly die. He looks embarrassed, too, but Wonwoo is nothing if not patient, and he has to admit it is a little funny.

“Oh! Hyung, someone is calling you!” Seungkwan says as soon as Wonwoo has turned the monitor towards Vernon. Seungkwan peeks over it at his buzzing phone and makes a puking noise. “It’s Kim Mingyu.”

Wonwoo glances at it. “You can answer it.” He turns his attention back to Vernon. “Now, here’s where you find the search bar…”

“Hello, Jeon Wonwoo speaking,” Seungkwan says into the phone, faking a deep voice. Wonwoo snorts.

“My Wonwoo doesn’t sound like that,” Mingyu says, laughing. “Did you steal his phone, Seungkwan-ah?”

Seungkwan frowns. “How’d you know it was me?”

“‘Hello, Jeon Wonwoo speaking,’” Mingyu replies, imitating Seungkwan imitating Wonwoo.

“Yah! That sounds nothing like me!”

“It was a little similar,” Vernon mumbles, too quiet for Seungkwan to hear. Wonwoo has to cover his mouth to hide his laugh.

“Where’s hyung? Does he know you have his phone?”

“What do you take me for? I’m not a thief! He told me to answer it! He’s helping Vernon with something.”

“Oh, that’s why he wasn’t answering my texts. He was working.” Mingyu sounds disgusted at the thought.

“Yeah, that’s what adults do, hyung. They work hard and earn money. It’s the fate of the world.”

“Sounds depressing. Can you tell him to get pizza on the way home? You know, the place by the music building-”

Seungkwan blinks. “Home? Do you mean his dorm?”

There’s silence for a long moment. “Yeah? Did you not know we’re living together?”

Seungkwan blinks again. “No? What? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?” He glares at Wonwoo. “You didn’t tell me, either!”

Wonwoo just shrugs, giving an apologetic smile. Seungkwan’s glare persists.

“Since, like, three weeks ago? I could’ve sworn I told you-”

“You most definitely did not! How could you-?”

Wonwoo tunes out the phone call, then, and it doesn’t take much longer for Vernon to point out the right book on the website. Unfortunately, it’s not available.

“I can send in an order for it. One of our affiliates will probably have it,” Wonwoo says. “I’m sorry you went through all this trouble, though.”

Vernon shakes his head with a cool smile. “That’s all right. Just let me know when you get it and I’ll swing by.”

Wonwoo nods and quickly goes about sending in the order. He pauses when he sees Vernon staring at him. Wonwoo raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“Oh! Sorry, I just-” Vernon flusters, laughing nervously as he scratches at his ear. “I didn’t know you and Mingyu were dating.”

Wonwoo stares at him.

“Not that that’s bad! I’m happy for both of you! You’re just really different from Mingyu. Like, really different. Well, you seem to be, anyway. I don’t really know you. But just based on first impressions, you seem super quiet and calm and he’s-”

“I can’t believe our school’s hottest losers are dating,” Seungkwan says with a long-suffering sigh as he walks over to them. “And I can’t believe they didn’t tell me! Hyung, how could you?”

Wonwoo blinks. He opens his mouth but—

“You know what? I don’t want to hear your excuses.” Seungkwan puts his hands on his hips. “Mingyu already tried to lie and say you weren’t even really dating.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. Who would believe that? Does he think I’m stupid? Non-ah, am I stupid?”

Vernon stares at him.

Seungkwan shoves his shoulder. “Aish! I can’t trust anyone here!” He storms out through the front doors.

After a second, he storms back in. He glares at Wonwoo and says, “Hyung, your boyfriend said he wants a large meat lovers pizza” before he grabs Vernon and leaves.

Wonwoo stares after the doors. He finally closes his mouth.

“Yujun, let him go.”

Chan is held up by two tall shadows, so dark that they’re opaque. He kicks and thrashes in their grip, hair whipping around his face as he tries to free himself. The duct-tape over his mouth muffles his yells.

A man stands a few feet away, a serene smile on his lips as he watches Mingyu approach. His hair is slicked back but messy, falling into his face. His eyes glow dark red, emitting such a piercing light that Mingyu is unable to look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, Mingyu?” he asks, voice smooth, rich, relaxed. “Are you scared now that your friend isn’t here to protect you? He got too involved, kept getting in between us.” His eyes narrow. “Finally, you’re here, and while I am happy to see you, I’ve grown sick of this game. I’m sure you have, too.”

Mingyu clenches his jaw, gaze darting between the man and Chan. “What do you want?”

The man’s smile widens. “You know I’m a simple man, Mingyu-yah. We’re friends!” His face darkens. “Well, we were.”

Mingyu watches him as the man walks closer, closer, closer, until he squeezes Mingyu’s shoulder, ignoring how he tenses.

“I just want you,” he says into Mingyu’s ear.

“Let my friend go. I’ll do what you want, just-”

The shadows dissipate in an instant. Chan falls to the ground from several feet in the air, yelping when he crashes onto the pavement. Tears stream from his eyes as he tries to sit up, wincing when he puts weight on his arm or his hip.

“Chan-ah!” Mingyu starts to run towards him, but the man holds him back, fingers digging into his shoulder.

“I’ve done what you’ve asked me to,” he says. “Now why don’t you watch the show? I think this scene will look familiar.”

As he walks away, a shadow grows out from behind him. It crawls up Mingyu’s leg but doesn’t move any higher. He tries to shake it off, but his leg doesn’t move. His eyes widen and he tries to shake his leg harder, panicking when it remains stuck in place.

“Yujun-” His voice dies in his throat when he looks up and sees the man brandish a knife from his pocket as he approaches Chan. “Yujun! Yujun, what are you doing? What-?”

Chan’s eyes widen as the man picks him up by his hair, unintelligible words spilling from his lips as he panics, trying to back away. He writhes in place, tries to throw himself down, but the grip on his hair is too strong.

“Yujun, Yujun, please, don’t- don’t do this!”

Mingyu struggles in place, chest heaving as he keeps shaking his leg, trying to fling himself forward. The shadow starts to grow more and more translucent, until finally, when the man brings down the knife, it disappears. Mingyu careens towards him, interrupting the path of the slash as he falls on top of Chan, completely covering him.

Mingyu gasps in pain, eyes wide. He chokes on his own breath when the man yanks the knife out of him, blood soaking his shirt as it pours out from his back. When he chokes again, blood drips from his mouth and splatters across the ground. He wobbles, trying to hold up his own weight, until he drops to the ground.

“-oo hyung! Wonwoo hyung, do you hear me?”

Wonwoo bolts up, tears already falling down his cheeks, chest already tight as if made up of knots. The glow of his eyes lights up the room, making Mingyu wince from where he sits beside him. He’s clutching Wonwoo’s upper arms, clearly desperate in trying to wake him. When Wonwoo looks at him, he immediately brings him into a hug.

“Oh, my god, my Wonwoo, my hyung, you’re back-”

“Mingyu-” Wonwoo whispers, voice breaking off into a pathetic whimper. He sobs and brings Mingyu closer into his chest, squeezing him so tightly that it must hurt, but he’s warm, and he’s breathing, and he’s alive—

“I’m here,” Mingyu murmurs, rubbing Wonwoo’s back. “I’m here, your light is here. I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

Mingyu repeats it a few more times as he rocks them back and forth, pressing himself up against Wonwoo as close as he can. He’s a grounding presence, his voice soft and reassuring, and Wonwoo can only cry because he doesn’t know what he’d do without Mingyu.

Before, Wonwoo didn’t have anything to lose. He had Soonyoung, maybe, but he already knew he’d be transferring, and Wonwoo was content to leave the world, leave Soonyoung, quietly, just as he’d lived. He thought that maybe because he lived as a ghost, he’d become human when he died.

It was stupid, looking back. It makes no sense. To live as though he was dead wasn’t living at all. He realizes that now, after meeting Mingyu, after meeting his friends who welcome Wonwoo so easily, so sweetly.

“You died,” Wonwoo says, when his tears have stopped and he can only stare at the wall.

“Won-”

“You can’t die.”

“I-”

“You can’t be stupid and selfless and-”

“Hyung, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Wonwoo looks up. Mingyu meets his eyes, smiling gently. He reaches out to hold Wonwoo’s cheek, his thumb wiping away remnants of tears.

“I’m right here,” he says, “and I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what happened so I don’t do what I did in the dream.”

Wonwoo’s headache is already starting to turn into a migraine, pulsing from the side of his skull. He’s grateful for the lack of light, but even when he grips the blanket, the sound it makes grates at his ears.

He takes a steadying breath. “It’s Yujun.”

The smile drops from Mingyu’s face. “You saw him? He’s the one that-?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” Mingyu sighs heavily, leaning his forehead against Wonwoo’s, eyelashes fluttering as his eyes shut and he’s so close—

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo asks, voice small.

Mingyu’s eyes open as he pulls away. “Yeah, sorry, I just-” He cuts himself off, looking lost.

“He was your friend, right? One of the ones that made you transfer?”

Mingyu chuckles, soft, weak. “Yeah, yeah he was. I shouldn’t be surprised that you know that.”

Wonwoo tries to smile but he doesn’t think he’s very successful. “He said that he wants you. And he- he tried to kill Chan, but you-”

“I stopped him.” Mingyu frowns. “That sounds like something I would do. And I got killed instead?”

Slowly, Wonwoo nods. Quietly, Mingyu looks down. For a long moment, there is only the cicadas singing and the bushes outside rustling in a breeze. No moonlight streams in from the window, the blinds shut tight. Wonwoo doesn’t know what the silence means.

Suddenly, Mingyu takes his hand, holding it between both of his. He runs his thumb across Wonwoo’s palm.

“Have you ever seen the sunrise at the Han river?” he asks.

Wonwoo’s brow furrows. “No.”

“I only saw it once, a long time ago. I was ten, I think, and my mom finally found the time to take me somewhere.” Mingyu smiles, soft and sad. “She said it’s where she met my dad. It’s always crowded during the day, but it’s almost completely empty in the early morning. It felt like it was just me and her.”

He pauses, takes another breath. Wonwoo pretends not to notice that it shakes. “It was really pretty. When the sun rose, it reflected across the water, and it looked like it was miles and miles of just- just sun.” He laughs, almost sobs. “I turned to her and I said, ‘Mom, I want to do this! I want to have light magic so I can put the sun wherever I want!’”

A tear drops on Wonwoo’s hand. He keeps quiet. “She laughed at me, but it- it wasn’t in a nice way.” Mingyu sniffles. “I never told her or my dad about my magic. It didn’t develop until a few years later. But somehow, this- this was all she needed. She was always- I don’t know, I think she just wanted a reason to hate me.”

Wonwoo uses his free hand to card his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, gently undoing the tangles. Mingyu leans towards him.

“She didn’t really want a kid, you know? She’s always been career driven. And my dad- he usually works overseas, so I-” His voice breaks. He clears his throat. “My point is that I don’t have a family, Wonwoo. Chan does. He has amazing parents who always come to his performances with flowers to give him, and if there comes a time where it’s me or him, the choice will be easy to make.”

He finally looks up to meet Wonwoo’s eyes. “I don’t want to lie to you and say I’d let him die-”

“I just don’t want you to leave me.” The words stumble from Wonwoo’s lips before he can stop them. He quickly averts his eyes. “I mean- it’s- I also don’t want Chan to die, I don’t want anyone to die-”

“I know,” Mingyu says softly, squeezing Wonwoo’s hand. “I don’t want to leave you, either. And I want everyone to be safe and alive and- and I hate that this is all happening because of me-”

“Mingyu-”

“Hyung, you know it is.” He looks at Wonwoo with a pained smile. “You stumbled into this, and then I dragged you deeper into it because I thought you were nice and cool and so fucking pretty-”

Wonwoo blinks, taken aback. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice.

“-and then I saw how pretty your smile is, too, and how your eyes close when you laugh really hard, and how you genuinely care so much, expecting nothing in return, and fuck, I kept taking and taking and taking and now I’m realizing that I would put my life on the line for you no questions asked because I-”

He stops, breathing heavily, crushing Wonwoo’s hand. Wonwoo stares at him, and for some reason, his heart is pounding. He can feel Mingyu’s pulse racing under his palm.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says in an exhale, chuckling weakly. “My mind’s a mess. I- I want to stay with you, hyung, but I don’t know if I can, I don’t know if fate would allow-”

“It has to.”

Mingyu looks at him. Wonwoo looks down.

“If fate is my friend like you said, then- then it has to allow us to stay together,” he mumbles, ears burning.

“Hyung, seriously, you’re so fucking cute. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Yah, Kim Mingyu-”

“Don’t hit me!” Mingyu laughs, leaning away as Wonwoo reaches forward to smack his arm. “I know you get embarrassed when I say things like that, but it makes me want to say them more!”

“This is why our friends think we’re dating,” Wonwoo says, crossing his arms.

Mingyu’s laughter falters. “Does- does that make you uncomfortable?”

Wonwoo hesitates. Slowly, he shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

Mingyu grins, and that alone seems to light up the whole room. “I wouldn’t mind dating you, either.”

“O-oh, you-” Wonwoo feels lightheaded from too many emotions in such a short time. “Are you asking me out?”

Mingyu’s eyes go wide. “Was I not supposed to? Shit, I’m sorry, I just assumed-”

“No, it’s okay, I-” Wonwoo looks down at the blanket and then back up at Mingyu. “I’d say yes. If you were asking me out.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds before they laugh, embarrassed, shy. Wonwoo ducks his head, but he’s unable to stifle his smile or stamp down the butterflies swooping up and around inside his chest.

“Maybe, uh, maybe after this whole thing, though?” Mingyu offers. “When the shadows are behind us and stuff?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Wonwoo nods.

Mingyu laughs again, a little breathless. “I really didn’t expect tonight to go this way. We should- we should get some sleep.”

“As long as you don’t snore right into my ear again.”

Mingyu snorts as he pulls Wonwoo down, curling around him with practiced ease. “No promises.”

Every night, Mingyu curls around Wonwoo just like this, letting Wonwoo lean his head on his chest. Usually, they’re close—their legs intertwine and sometimes Mingyu holds Wonwoo’s waist a bit more securely. Tonight, there is no space between them, as Mingyu snuggles as close as possible into Wonwoo, setting his chin on top of his hair as they rest chest to chest.

Wonwoo still feels lightheaded, and his migraine doesn’t help, so he lies awake, content to listen to how Mingyu’s breathing and heartbeat slows. And from where Wonwoo is hidden away under Mingyu’s chin, he’s comfortably warm, as if laying in the direct path of the sun. Slowly, his eyelids get heavier and heavier, and in the back of his mind, he realizes his heartbeat is syncing up with Mingyu’s and—

Brr beep! Brr beep!

He blinks, suddenly more awake.

Brr beep! Brr beep!

Wonwoo carefully pulls away from Mingyu so he can lift his head. Mingyu only sighs in his sleep, completely unaware of the noise, head falling further down the pillow as Wonwoo sits up.

Brr beep! Brr beep!

He frowns when he realizes the sound is coming from the jacket he wore today. He’d tossed it over the back of his desk chair when he got home. Squinting, he thinks he sees a tiny light flashing from one of the pockets. He reaches over Mingyu to get his glasses.

Before the sound can go off again, Wonwoo silently slides off the bed, replacing himself with a pillow for Mingyu to hug. It’s fortunate he’s a heavy sleeper.

Wonwoo looks through the pockets and pulls out the weird capsule thing Chan had given him—or, well, the weird capsule thing Seungkwan and Vernon delivered on behalf of Chan. A small, white light blinks from the inside of it, covered by a transparent screen.

Brr beep! Brr—

He interrupts it when he presses the top of the capsule. He pauses, surprised. He didn’t think anything would actually happen.

The capsule vibrates in his hand, humming like an engine, before it suddenly jumps into the air. It shakes and then grows four inches longer, the light rippling across its surface until it lights up an entire screen. Wonwoo has to take a few steps back to realize it’s a map with a bright blue line marking the route.

His stomach drops when he sees a red “S.O.S.” flashing over the destination spot.

He wants to think this is just an absurd prank Chan pulled on him, but he’d probably want to see Wonwoo’s reaction and he wouldn’t have revealed his magic to do it. Besides, Wonwoo feels the certainty that something is wrong simmering in his blood, his intuition making his adrenaline spike. Chan is in trouble and he already has an idea of what that looks like, what it sounds like and smells like—

Mingyu’s snore interrupts the silence. Wonwoo stares at him, taking in his pretty, pretty face, and wonders if this will be the last time he sees it. He shakes his head, pulls on his shoes, and lets Chan’s weird gadget lead the way. (He makes sure to shut the door quietly behind him.)

The streets of Seoul are quiet. It’s impossible for the city to be completely empty or silent, though; there are still the distant thumps of music and honking of cars as Wonwoo creeps along back alleys to ensure no one sees him with a floating GPS system. While his anxiety isn’t completely unfounded, the district it’s directing him through isn’t as busy as some others are in the middle of the night, so he never sees anyone.

All the shops and restaurants are closed, and the deeper he goes, the less lights there are. The few streetlights he does see flicker ominously as moths flutter under their beams. Eventually, he has to depend on the light of the gadget’s screen to avoid breaking his ankle as he steps down curbs. When he looks up at the sky, the clouds block the moon, and even the stars are barely visible.

Even before the gadget pings, he knows he’s at the right place.

Trash litters the sides of the road. On one side, there are vacated apartment buildings that have already been gutted. Spray paint covers its brick walls and its wire fence, an abandoned fridge laying precariously against the door. On the other side, brown, wilted plants hang from the chain link fence that surrounds a construction site. Green metal hangs on the fence from the inside, blocking the area from view.

Wonwoo tries to peer over it, but it’s too dark to see much of anything. From what he can tell, the ground slopes down into some sort of shallow pit.

He freezes when he hears a grunt and a muffled voice coming from its direction. The hair on his arms raises, goosebumps spreading across his skin. He swallows.

Cautiously, he approaches the fence, crouching to stay behind the green metal. As he rounds the corner, the voice becomes close enough to make out.

“-on, I’m not a bad guy. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen Mingyu! It’s natural to miss your friend- no, your best friend! Especially when he disappears! You’d be pissed, too, wouldn’t you?”

He’s answered by angry muffled words.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t respond. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m sure your beloved hyung will save you soon, so sit tight. Really, this whole thing has been such a hassle. If he had just given me a call, none of this would have happened. I don’t want anything crazy. I just want my friend back.”

As he talks, Wonwoo creeps closer and closer, stopping when the fence changes into white aluminum where there is no more metal to hide him. From here, he can see Chan is held up by two tall shadows, so dark that they’re opaque. He’s glaring daggers at the man—Yujun, Wonwoo assumes—as he stands in front of him, his back to Wonwoo.

“And I mean, seriously, is that so bad? A bit pathetic, maybe, but I’m nothing if not loyal! My name means ‘courageous friend,’ you know! That’s what my mom wanted me to be: the boy who would do anything for his friends.”

Chan’s brow furrows as his nose wrinkles. He huffs and glances away, his eyes falling on Wonwoo. He blinks once, twice, before his eyes widen.

Wonwoo quickly puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head, but it’s too late.

“What are you looking at? Are you even listening to me?” Right when Yujun starts to turn towards him, Wonwoo ducks back behind the green metal of the chain link fence.

His heart pounds as he hears footsteps coming towards him. He glances at the gadget that still floats beside him, and without thinking too much about the repercussions, he pulls it out of the air and throws it in the opposite direction, the glow of its screen fading as it crashes into the ground about twenty yards away. He winces when he hears it crackle one last brr beep!

“What the hell?” Yujun mutters, footsteps stopping for a second before they continue in the direction of the crash.

Wonwoo breathes a silent sigh of relief. He waits until he can’t hear footsteps anymore, then he shuffles back towards the aluminum fence. He sees Yujun walking away, and he notices how the more distance he puts between them, the less opaque the shadows holding Chan become.

Keeping his eyes on Yujun (and ignoring Chan’s furious glares), Wonwoo hops over the fence, grateful that it’s shorter than the other one. As soon as he lands, he darts towards Chan, but he stops when he realizes he’s held up a few feet above him.

Biting his lip, Wonwo looks over at Yujun and then back at Chan (who is still furiously glaring at him). Chan shakes his head, but Wonwoo only frowns and reaches up to his ankles to pull him down. At first, the shadows hold strong, but the more he pulls, the more transparent they become, until Chan lets out a muffled yelp as he falls. Wonwoo barely manages to catch him.

Breathing heavily, Wonwoo rips the duct-tape off of Chan’s mouth. Tears spring to his eyes as his mouth opens in a silent scream of pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo murmurs, tugging him into his chest for a hug. “Are you okay? Can you move?”

“I can’t believe you tried to tear off my lips right after throwing away the gift I made you. What did I do to you?”

“Okay, you’re fine, let’s go.”

Wonwoo hurries Chan over to the fence, lifting his arm around his head when Chan mumbles that his legs had fallen asleep. Just as he gets him over the fence, Wonwoo feels the telltale chill of a shadow crawling up his leg.

“Chan-ah, go. Now.”

Chan frowns, looking lost, but he backs away, stumbling.

“Faster,” Wonwoo says.

When Chan glances behind Wonwoo, his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but Wonwoo jerks his head to the side, urging him to go. Chan hesitates for a second longer before he bolts. Wonwoo spots a shadow slithering behind him.

Wonwoo turns around. Unsurprisingly, Yujun is there, watching him with a curious smile on his face that doesn’t match the dark red glow of his eyes.

“Well, hello-”

Wonwoo tackles him.

The shadow dissipates from his leg, which must mean the other shadow stopped following Chan. Wonwoo lets those thoughts comfort him as Yujun shoves him off. Two new shadows creep up Wonwoo’s arms, so cold that it feels like they freeze his skin. They drag him up into the air, and Wonwoo has to shut his eyes to stave off the nausea it brings him.

“You’re even ruder than the other one,” Yujun says as he gets to his feet, brushing off his coat. “At least I didn’t have to hear him talk. Will you be chatty as well?”

Wonwoo glares at him.

“A man of few words, I see.” Yujun smiles. “That’s all right. You’ll work fine, perhaps even better. You’re the- the new one, right?” His smile drops. “I don’t care what your magic is, but you’ve been getting in my way since the day you showed up. Do you take joy in making me look like an idiot?”

Yes.

“Honestly, I get it. You want to impress Mingyu. I did, too! But then he disappeared one day and that’s when I realized…” He circles around Wonwoo with his arms crossed. “Even though I love Mingyu with all my heart, he doesn’t feel the same. I’d get hurt just so he could heal me, you know, so I could see how his eyes turn that pretty shade of yellow.”

He sighs, long and deep. “After he disappeared, I blamed him for everything. How could I not? The love of my life just-” He gestures with his hand. “Poof! Gone! You understand, don’t you? The anger I felt, the betrayal.”

Truthfully, Wonwoo cares very little for how Yujun feels about this, and he really doesn’t understand him at all. Wonwoo is familiar with betrayal, but he doesn’t linger on his anger. He’s had outbursts in the past, but they were short-lived and embarrassing. He doesn’t understand how Yujun isn’t embarrassed. He doesn’t understand how he can talk so much about so little for so long.

His monologue was funny for the first five seconds, but now Wonwoo’s arms and legs have fallen asleep and exhaustion gnaws at the back of his head, right next to where it continues to throb. He yawns as Yujun talks about how proud his mom was of him for making friends.

It’s unsettling how quickly Yujun’s expression changes. The wistful smile drops from his face as his head snaps towards Wonwoo, his eyes brightening.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I boring you?” The shadows grow a little colder. “Let’s not forget how expendable you are. Mingyu has plenty of other friends I can make into bait. You should be grateful that you’re still breathing, especially after that little stunt you pulled that made me lose the first one.”

He sighs for what may be the millionth time. “But what can I say? I’m generous. I’m kind. I’m exactly the kind of friend Mingyu needs. He doesn’t need…” He wrinkles his nose as he gestures at Wonwoo. “...you. I’ve seen the two of you together. You never say anything. You always look uninterested and like you’d rather die than be by his side. But Mingyu- oh, precious Mingyu, he’s too kind, you see, too pure. He takes what he can get.”

It’s not true. Yujun is talking out of his ass, he doesn’t know anything—

“He only hangs out with you because you’re available, you know. What do you offer him? Nothing! I offer him my loyalty, my kindness, my…”

Wonwoo zones out again, Yujun’s words fading into an unintelligible buzz. Mingyu had said Wonwoo was kind, that he was pretty, that he was cool. That must mean something, right? And he asked him out! Wonwoo knows he shouldn’t let Yujun get in his head, knows that that’s what he’s trying to do right now, but something in the back of Wonwoo’s mind agrees with him, at least partly.

Sans Soonyoung, Wonwoo hasn’t had friends since elementary school. His father moved them around a few times until they settled an hour outside of Seoul so that he could commute to work. Wonwoo was mute for a long few years, and he’s never been very talkative to begin with. He doesn’t know what to say sometimes. He’s accustomed to being present and little else.

But Mingyu wouldn’t hang out with him just because he was available, right? Mingyu has other friends—lovely, sweet friends who would definitely make time for him. Wonwoo isn’t very sure where he lands. Mingyu said he was his best friend, but what does that mean exactly?

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Yujun’s yell slams him back into the present moment, and the knife at his throat forces the breath from his lungs. Yujun is too close. He seems to have brought Wonwoo down just for this, his breath fanning across Wonwoo’s face, dark red eyes blinding.

“I’m sick and tired of being ignored!” Yujun hisses. The knife burns from where it digs into Wonwoo’s skin. “You need to fucking listen to me! I have your life in my hands, I have the power! I’m the one Mingyu wants! And you- you’re nothing!”

Wonwoo’s heart hammers against his ribs. He bites his lip, pointedly looking away from Yujun’s eyes, trying to ignore how familiar the pain of a knife is, trying to push back against the raucous noise that’s overcoming his head, the same noise that almost sent him out of this world—

“Park Yujun!”

Wonwoo doesn’t want to hear Mingyu’s voice, he doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want to—

“Let go of my best friend and face me, asshole!” Fuck, it is him.

Wonwoo already knows what Yujun is planning based on how the knife starts to drag and how he starts to press in more. Not having the time to consider alternatives, Wonwoo jerks his head back and kicks out his leg, not quite knowing where to aim, but he feels something solid connect and Yujun curses, so he must’ve done something.

In Yujun’s surprise, the shadows dissipate, dropping Wonwoo to the ground. He huffs from the impact, landing on his side, but the fall wasn’t nearly as bad as Chan’s had been—would’ve been.

He puts his hand to his neck, feeling blood drip. He finally looks up at Mingyu and sees him already looking at him, worried and tired and scared. His hair is a mess and his face is red from exertion. He must’ve run here.

“Mingyu,” Yujun says, breathing heavily. Wonwoo flinches when he picks him up by the collar of his shirt, the knife digging into his neck once more. “I’m glad you could make it. I was just about to finish this one off.”

“Yujun,” Mingyu says, voice losing its fire, eyes shaking. “Yujun, that’s my friend. Don’t do this. Please.”

“This is your friend?” Yujun scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even like you! I’m doing you a favor by-”

“No.” Wonwoo can see how Mingyu trembles, even from here. “No, he- we- we need each other, okay? He’s my everything, Yujun, don’t- don’t take him from me-”

“I was your everything, Mingyu.” Yujun lowers his voice, anger simmering just below the surface, barely restrained. “And you were my everything. And then you left me!” His scream echoes in the construction site.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for leaving you,” Mingyu says, slowly inching closer. “We can talk about this, okay? We don’t have to kill anyone-”

“I’m so tired of talking! When I talk, no one fucking listens!” The knife presses in a little more. Wonwoo gasps in pain. “Not even you listened to me, Mingyu! You said I was hurting you! What bullshit!” He laughs humorlessly. “You’re the one that pushed me to this. This is all your fault!”

Wonwoo keeps his eyes on Yujun as he tries to find somewhere to grab. He urges blood back into his numb fingers before he suddenly fumbles for the lapels of Yujun’s coat, dragging him down. He drops the knife and loses his grip on Wonwoo’s collar, sending both of them to the ground.

“You fucking rat!” Yujun seethes, reaching for the knife.

The name locks up Wonwoo’s muscles. He feels cold, cold, cold, and he feels the tickle of blood dripping from his neck, and he can only cower as Yujun approaches, because he looks awfully similar to Youngho from here, and he sounds similar, and—

Yujun raises the knife this time, eyes narrowed with hatred. Wonwoo is willing to accept the blow until he sees movement in the corner of his eye and he remembers where he is. He turns, tries to reach out, but he’s too slow.

Mingyu crashes into Yujun. They fall back with a heavy thump, and through vicious thrashing, Mingyu pins Yujun to the ground with his hands on his wrists. Wonwoo pales when he sees blood seep through Mingyu’s shirt.

“Mingyu-” Wonwoo whispers.

“Chan-ah!” Mingyu yells, not taking his eyes off of Yujun as he kicks and spits underneath him.

Something clicks. Then, there’s the rush of footsteps and the clanging of the chain link fence before Soonyoung and Jihoon, of all people, run towards them. Chan follows a few steps behind, hesitant.

“Gyu-yah! Gyu-yah, oh, my god, are you okay?” Soonyoung asks, brow furrowed. “Stupid question. Okay, don’t worry, we’ll take care of this asshole.” He nods at Yujun. “Everyone else has already been contacted. You did the hard part.”

“Get the fuck off of me!” Yujun says, baring his teeth like a feral dog. “Get away from me! Stop-”

When Jihoon aims a kick to his neck, his eyes roll back and his body goes lax.

“Holy shit, did you kill him?” Soonyoung asks in horror.

“I wish.” Jihoon snorts. “He’s just knocked out.”

Mingyu staggers as he gets to his feet. The bloodstain on his shirt is bigger now, oozing out from an area on the right of his lower stomach. He presses a hand to it with a low grunt.

“Shit, we need to get you out of here fast.” Jihoon frowns as he slings Mingyu’s arm over his shoulders. “Soonyoung-ah, call an ambulance. I think Shua hyung already called the police.”

“An ambulance is already on the way,” Soonyoung says. “One of the hyungs called for it. Actually- no, maybe it was Minghao-”

Wonwoo swallows, ignoring the burn of the two wounds on his neck. He trembles as he stands, the aches and pains of new bruises making themselves known. Something else aches as he watches Soonyoung and Jihoon dote over Mingyu. He still feels cold, still feels like there’s a knife at his throat.

“Hyung?”

He blinks, surprised when he turns around to find Chan looking at him.

“Shit, your neck-” Chan’s eyes widen as he reaches out, but Wonwoo quickly backs away.

“I’m okay,” he says, though his voice is hoarse and he can’t look Chan in the eye. “I- I have to go. You guys can take care of it from here.”

“What? Hyung, where are you going?”

Wonwoo is tired. He doesn’t know how to tell Chan that it’s better for them to care for Mingyu—Mingyu, who took a knife for him, as if he wanted to finally return the favor that Wonwoo never wanted. Guilt weighs heavy at the bottom of his chest, cold as ice to the point of burning.

He glances at Mingyu, sees him dazed and limp in Jihoon and Soonyoung’s arms, and he looks away. He starts walking, ignoring Chan’s confused-slash-worried-slash-annoyed calls, and he tries to quiet the noise that never left his brain.

He doesn’t know how long he walks. His legs feel numb, though they’re not quite asleep, and he doesn’t feel the cold. He keeps his eyes on the ground, blind to the occasional person that passes him. The world feels muted, desaturated, far away; the anxiety and fear and guilt never leave. Why won’t they leave?

The sound of waves breaks through his thoughts. He pauses, looks up.

Through the spindly trees that bracket the path he’s on, there is water. He blinks. He looks around and realizes, oh, it’s the river. The Han river.

It spans wider than he was expecting, the skyscrapers and office buildings on the other side appearing both too small and too big in the lightening sky. The waves of the river are calm, splashing lazily in the breeze that dances through the trees and his hair. The Yanghwa Bridge glitters, its orange lights and blinking cars reflecting across the water.

Wonwoo goes towards the riverbank, stopping a few feet away to avoid the mud. He sits down with a long sigh, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin atop them as he watches the water. Finally, his brain is quiet.

Gradually, the sky shifts to a lighter blue as wisps of orange and yellow kiss the horizon. Thin, purple clouds float past the slowly rising sun. Birds greet the day as they awaken, chirping and singing as they call to one another. Wonwoo shuts his eyes to listen.

Distant footsteps approach him. He can guess who they belong to.

“You can’t see the sunrise with your eyes closed, you know.”

Wonwoo chuckles as he hears Mingyu sit down beside him. He opens his eyes but doesn’t turn to look.

They sit in silence as the sun rises higher. It looks like a single beam of light as it reflects across the entire expanse of the river.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Wonwoo mumbles.

“Yeah, the doctors weren’t happy when I requested an early discharge. But Chan told the hyungs what happened, so Jeonghan told me he’d take care of the technicalities after I signed some paperwork.” In the corner of his eye, Wonwoo sees Mingyu face him. “They said I got lucky. It wasn’t that deep, and it was easy to stop the blood flow. You were worried, right?”

Wonwoo looks down.

Mingyu moves closer. “Hyung, I’m sorry. Are you mad at me? I know you didn’t want me to do anything stupid-”

Wonwoo throws his arms around Mingyu’s neck, leaning into him for a hug. As always, Mingyu is warm, and Wonwoo can hear his pulse—a comforting rhythm that assures him he’s alive.

Mingyu is quick to wrap his arms around Wonwoo’s waist and press a feather-light kiss to the bottom of his jaw. “I’m here now, hyung,” Mingyu whispers. “I’m safe. We’re okay.”

When he pulls away, his brow furrows as he gently touches the wounds on Wonwoo’s neck. Wonwoo shivers. “Let me take care of this, okay? Just like before.”

He presses his fingers against the injuries with a gentle firmness. The following sting hurts more, but the pain is quickly replaced by a fading warmth. Mingyu’s eyes shine pale yellow, and with the sun rising behind his head, Wonwoo can only stare.

“He didn’t hurt you anywhere else, right? I didn’t see anything, but-”

“I’m okay, Gyu-yah,” Wonwoo says. He tucks a strand of Mingyu’s hair behind his ear.

Mingyu’s hand travels up to the underside of Wonwoo’s jaw. He stares at him, gaze dropping to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried when Chan said you left.”

He glances at the sunrise but his eyes return to Wonwoo. “It’s so pretty here, isn’t it?”

Wonwoo’s face heats up. Of course Mingyu was referring to the sunrise, but he’s staring at him so intensely, and he keeps looking at Wonwoo’s lips—

“It is,” Wonwoo says, a little breathless. He doesn’t even bother to look at the sunrise.

Mingyu giggles, high-pitched and raspy and cute, his eyes crinkling as his cheeks tinge pink. “Hyung, can I- can I kiss you?”

Wonwoo swears his heart stops for a moment. He opens his mouth to answer, but his thoughts get too tangled in his head. He closes his mouth and settles for a nod.

“Are you sure?” Mingyu asks, and the glint in his eye confirms that he’s teasing.

“Yes,” Wonwoo says with a huff. “Please, kiss me, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s eyes soften. His other hand comes up to hold Wonwoo’s cheek, and when he starts leaning in, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter closed.

It’s a little awkward as Wonwoo’s glasses dig into the bridge of Mingyu’s nose, but they only laugh and change positions to accommodate it. Then, Mingyu’s lips are on Wonwoo’s, chapped and gentle and warm, stealing the breath from his lungs. Mingyu tilts his head, and his thumb caresses Wonwoo’s cheekbone, and that’s all it takes for Wonwoo to melt.

He’s never kissed someone before, and he can’t imagine doing it with anyone else. There are no fireworks or overwhelming flames in his chest, and surprisingly, his heart doesn’t threaten to break out of his chest. It still sings and dances its usual Mingyu routine, but as Mingyu leans further into him, it feels more like the comfort of returning to him after a long day.

They break apart, breathing heavily with pink cheeks and red ears. Mingyu laughs, eyes brighter than the sun as he squeezes Wonwoo’s face. He pecks the corner of his lips, and he pecks his nose, and he goes in to peck his cheek—

“Gyu-” Wonwoo says, embarrassed, shrinking away from the affection.

“Too much?” Mingyu pulls away with a worried frown.

“It’s- I- I don’t mind it-” Wonwoo looks down at his hands, looks back up at Mingyu. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Won hyung, you are seriously adorable,” Mingyu says with utmost seriousness. “You were so sexy earlier, and now you’re like this? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Are you going to say this type of stuff more now that we’re dating?”

Mingyu blinks. “We’re dating?”

Wonwoo pauses. “Are we not?”

“No, no, wait, because the shadow stuff is done with- okay-” Mingyu clears his throat and straightens his back. “Jeon Wonwoo, will you be my boyfriend?”

Wonwoo stares at him, unimpressed, though he can’t fight a smile. “You’re so stupid. Yes, fine, I’ll be your boyfriend or whatever.”

Mingyu beams, his entire face lighting up as he surges forward to wrap his arms around Wonwoo, knocking both of them down. Mingyu continues to grin on top of him, the sun shining behind his head, reflecting across the water for miles and miles. Wonwoo can’t take his eyes off of him.

He feels warm, warm, warm, laughing when Mingyu pecks his cheeks, his nose scrunching as he pecks his nose again. He feels alive.