Archive of Our Own

Five minutes past three in the morning, Lee Do's phone buzzes. The person on the other end says a man named Moon Baek just got into a car accident and is now unconscious at the hospital. He doesn't waste time with questions, aside from the name of the hospital, before he's already cutting through the relatively empty streets of Seoul on his motorcycle.

On the ride there, his mind keeps replaying their last interaction from only a few days ago. It was when they were waiting for Mrs. Oh's surgery, and to fill the silence, somehow, Moon Baek started asking him personal questions. He also shared his past with Lee Do, saying that he had been abandoned since he was a baby and his life wasn't a walk in the park ever since.

From what Moon Baek had told him, Lee Do noticed he didn't have any relatives or anyone close at all. So maybe that's why the hospital called him, because his name is simply at the top of Moon Baek's call log.

Frankly, Lee Do still hasn't made up his mind about Moon Baek. There's something about him that keeps Lee Do on edge. Yes, his record—according to Detective Seo—is clean, and where he lives matches with Jeongu's quick research. But something about Moon Baek seems distrustful, still. Maybe it's the way he talks that gets on his nerves, or the way his exuberance sometimes causes chaos at bad times. Moon Baek is everything Lee Do isn't. He's lively, loud, and mischievous.

He hasn't even known Moon Baek for more than two months. Yet, here he is, racing through the night for someone who might not even matter to him.

Lee Do could easily say to the hospital staff that he's unrelated to the man and let them find another person to be contacted as Moon Baek's next closest kin. With Moon Baek being in a hospital doesn't mean it's going to hinder Lee Do from solving this case. He can do the investigation all alone. But the thought of Moon Baek lying limp on a hospital bed lodged itself in Lee Do's chest like a splinter.

He barrels through the hospital corridors when he arrives there. His black leather jacket and worn jeans stark against the sterile white walls and the blur of nurses' scrubs. His body protests every step after a day with barely a moment's rest, but his legs still manage to carry him up the stairs two at a time.

Once he reaches the room and pushes the door open, he freezes. His eyes immediately zero in on the man sitting upright on the bed. Lee Do exhales a sharp, relieved sigh seeing Moon Baek already gained his consciousness.

Lee Do isn't sure what he expects Moon Baek's injuries to look like, but it's nowhere near his assumptions. A thick gauze is wrapped around his forehead and an IV line is taped to his hand. But despite all of that, Moon Baek's eyes are alight when they meet Lee Do's—he looks… okay. The man grins bubbly as if he hadn't just danced with death just an hour ago.

The doctor glances up from her clipboard and greets him curtly when he enters the room. "You must be the one we called. His relative?" she says before returning her attention fully to Moon Baek.

"No, but I'm here for him."

She continues to examine the man on the bed. Starting with checking his blood pressure, flashes a light across his pupils, and then, she proceeds by asking him simple questions like his name and age, where he is, what year it is, and what just happened.

Moon Baek answers almost every single question perfectly without hesitation—except the last one, saying he doesn't remember anything about that.

"I'm fine, doc, I swear!" Moon Baek insists, hand trying to tug the IV out. "Really, I can go home now."

"Leave that in," she says, slapping his hand away with a frown, Moon Baek groans dramatically. "One more question. Who is this?" the doctor asks, pointing at Lee Do.

Lee Do crosses his arms over his chest, shoes squeaking on the ceramic tiles when he shifts his weight. He unconsciously holds his breath, waiting for Moon Baek's answer.

If the same question is asked to Lee Do, he would, ultimately, scramble to look for an appropriate answer. Because among all types of relationships he has with the people in his life, his relationship with Moon Baek must be the one that's most confusing to him. They're not even colleagues, let alone friends. But, at the same time, they had shared some vulnerable moments to be called only acquaintances. So it's only natural if Moon Baek, too, is looking for the right word for it.

The man, however, gazes up at him with too much fondness in his eyes. Moon Baek grins, wide and unrestrained, just like he always does. At nearly half past four in the morning, Moon Baek's voice rings through the quiet hospital room.

"Lee Do. My boyfriend."

To say that he's surprised by the sudden development they got with their relationship is an understatement. He had expected an answer like buddies or situational working partners, but never boyfriend.

He quickly glances at the doctor—who looks entirely unfazed by that answer—and wants to deny that claim, but she cuts in, "Can I have a word with you, Lee Do-ssi?"

He composes himself once again—not that his expression dramatically changed to begin with. "Of course."

So they step out of the room and shut the door behind them.

The doctor folds her arms behind her back. "Overall, Moon Baek-ssi is stable. His scans are clear—of course, this doesn't include his cancer," Lee Do sucks his breath at that. So he was telling the truth when he said he has cancer, Lee Do thinks. The doctor continues, "But he has no internal bleeding or fracture. We stitched the laceration on his temple, and that's it." She pauses, glancing at Moon Baek from the window by the door briefly before staring back at Lee Do. "However, it seems that he hit his head so hard. I'm just making sure, are you–"

"I'm not his boyfriend." Lee Do quickly finishes. "Just working partners."

"Understood," she writes something on her clipboard, hands not stopping while she explains, "He has retrograde amnesia. It's nothing life-threatening. Different parts of his brain are damaged, which is why he lost his most recent memories, but not the old ones. So he might be confused about some things or believe the things that aren't true."

"Like me being his lover." Lee Do mumbles, the word making him tingle.

"Yes," she nods. "His vitals are stable, so we're preparing for discharge. But since he has no immediate family listed, are you willing to be responsible for him once he leaves the hospital? Or would you prefer that we keep him here under our observation a little longer until he's back to normal?"

This is a tricky question. He doesn't know in which unit number does Moon Baek live—doesn't even know if Moon Baek remembers his address at all. The only viable option there is, is that bringing Moon Baek to his place. But that also means he's letting someone he barely knows steps into his territory. He can't do that.

Lee Do turns his head, looking through the window of that room. His eyes immediately meet Moon Baek's. The man beams at Lee Do, comically waving his hand that's not attached to the IV.

For someone who has a death sentence looming over his head, Moon Baek looks infuriatingly alive.

And before his mind can catch up, his mouth already forms an answer. "He's coming home with me."

"Wonderful," her lips curve in the slightest. "And because you're going to take care of him, my advice is that you play along with him for a while. If he says you're his boyfriend, then pretend that you are."

Lee Do blinks, "Why?"

"If he's trying to reach the right information too hard, it can cause a strain in his brain and potentially make his condition worse. Also, Moon Baek-ssi shouldn't be left alone, so please make sure of it. He should also take a rest from heavy activities for the next twenty-four hours. No driving, no alcohol, and avoid sudden exertion. I'll prescribe acetaminophen for any headache. And if he experiences nausea, vomiting, worsening headache, blurred vision, or confusion, please bring him straight back to the ER."

That is, undeniably, a lot of information to take in for someone who barely winked a sleep, but Lee Do quickly jots those down in his head.

"May I know how long until he's himself again?"

"It varies," she replies, smiling and politely nodding when another attending doctor passes in the corridor. "Some people recover in hours, but some can take days."

"Whoa," Moon Baek tilts his head back, eyes roaming the apartment's ceiling before trailing across the room. "This is where we live?"

Lee Do's ears perk up at the word we. But he nods, playing along with whatever delusions Moon Baek's brain conjures up—just like how the doctor instructed.

"Kinda. Make yourself comfortable." He shrugs off his jacket and neatly places his shoes by the door. "You wanna wash up?"

Moon Baek raises his eyebrow, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

"Is this your way of asking for shower sex?" If looks could kill, Moon Baek would've been butchered, put in a bag, and tossed into the ocean by now. Sure, Lee Do had volunteered to take care of him while he recovered, but that didn't mean he had all the patience in the world to deal with Moon Baek's bullshit at almost five in the morning. "Ah, okay okay. I was just joking, jeez."

"I'll set up the bed while you wash up. Bathroom's the second door on the left."

"Got it!"

As soon as the bathroom door clicks shut, leaving the apartment in a heavy hush, Lee Do lets out a long sigh he didn't realize he was holding. He questions himself whether this is the best decision he can make at the moment. Normal Moon Baek was already insufferable, now add a concussion to the mix.

For the next ten minutes, he rummages through his wardrobe, searching for the biggest shirt and sweatpants he owns. Lee Do isn't exactly small himself. He's considerably taller than most of his colleagues at the station. But Moon Baek is built like a bear, towering over everyone else, including Lee Do. He even thinks Moon Baek is the tallest man he has ever met so far. So Lee Do's not sure if his clothes would fit—especially since most of his clothes aren't the baggy, oversized ones like Moon Baek likes to wear.

When he finally finds the seemingly perfect set and lays it on the bed, he gathers a pillow and a blanket for himself, resigned to the couch for as long as Moon Baek stays here. But before he make his way out of the room, Moon Baek appears in the doorway. His skin is damp, and that ocean blue towel—Lee Do's towel—is slung dangerously low on his hips, showing every tattoo he has on his arms and torso. Lee Do instantly looks away, clearing his throat.

"Where are you going?" Moon Baek asks, eyes fixating on the pillow in Lee Do's arm.

"The couch."

"Why? I thought we'd sleep together?" Lee Do opens his mouth, trying to come up with an excuse, but Moon Baek's already snatched the pillow and blanket from his arm and tossed them back onto the bed. Lee Do blinks, looking between the bed and Moon Baek. "Aish, whyyy? You don't wanna sleep with me?" The younger pouts. Then, the next second, he gasps, his eyes widening. "Don't tell me– did we fight? Is that why I left the house alone?"

Now, what should Lee Do say at times like this? He doesn't even know why Moon Baek was driving so late at night and got into a single accident. But he has to say something so that Moon Baek won't be suspicious of him, right? (How the tables have turned. It should've been Moon Baek who's worried about being suspicious in front of him, the police officer.)

"No. We were alright. You even told me to rest well before you left."

Was that believable enough? Lee Do wonders.

What he said is partially true, though. Moon Baek did say that before they parted ways, just… not here in his apartment, and definitely not earlier today. He had said it after they had their fill at a gukbap restaurant, and that was three days ago.

Yet, he's sure Moon Baek seems convinced otherwise by that explanation, thinking that they have a wonderful domestic life together.

"Okay, that's a relief. Can't imagine I left you just because of an argument. I would rather shoot myself in the chest and die."

What a drama queen.

Lee Do resists rolling his eyes.

"You can wear this." Lee Do says, completely ignoring the topic. He gestures toward the clothes on the bed.

Moon Baek's eyes narrow at the clothes—specifically the t-shirt. "Is this mine? This looks too small on me, don't you think? Also, why is there only one toothbrush in the bathroom? I had to open a new one from the vanity."

That's because I live alone and you're not supposed to be here, is what Lee Do supposed to say, if he's being blunt.

But instead, he responds him with, "Because I'm the one who usually stays at your place. Not the other way around."

"Then why didn't you take us there?"

"Because it's five in the morning, Moon Baek. I barely got any sleep and I assume you did too, and my place is much closer to the hospital than yours." Lee Do explains, lies forming after one another so easily. Moon Baek's lips forms an O at the answer. "I'm gonna wash up," he quickly finishes, not wanting to elaborate any further of why Moon Baek doesn't have a single thing possession of himself here.

"Come back quickly, I miss you!"

Lee Do suppresses the cringe crawling up his spine.

☾

When he returns from the bathroom, Moon Baek is already asleep. He only wears the sweatpants, while the t-shirt is still folded neatly on the nightstand.

Looking at Moon Baek taking up the space in his bed that's usually empty, tattoos all across his body exposed, somehow makes Lee Do think this feels more intimate than it should've.

He walks back out of the room to drink some water and pace in the kitchen for a minute.

It's fine. It's just Moon Baek. He convinces himself.

When he trudges back into his bedroom, he's trying to walk around the bed quietly, careful not to wake him.

The man has been through enough. Moon Baek was tagging along in the investigation, brawling with those thugs the other day, waiting for him at the hospital for hours on end, getting into a car accident, and now he's grappling with holes in his memory. A good rest is the least he deserves.

Lee Do climbs into bed, his back facing the man.

This feels so foreign to him, having someone this close. He hasn't shared a bed in years, probably way before he got into the police academy—Lee Do himself isn't sure. So when the mattress dips with Moon Baek's weight shifting closer, he stiffens and forces himself to stay still.

Lee Do catches the smell of lavender and honey of his shower gel, wafting from behind him before he can register the warmth of Moon Baek's body against his back and his arm around his waist.

"Good night, love," Moon Baek murmurs. His breath fanning against his nape and his long hair is tickling his ear.

Lee Do tries so hard not to think about it.

He slept horribly.

Lee Do tried several times to untangle himself from Moon Baek's hold, but each attempt failed. So, when the grip finally loosened at some point, he seized the chance, slipping out of bed and retreating to the couch.

Not that it made much difference. The moment his eyes fluttered shut, the sunlight was already creeping through the curtains.

And now here he is, half-awake, making breakfast for two.

His movements are a bit sluggish since he hasn't had his caffeine yet. The faint noise of the morning news drifts from the TV, doing little to fill the quiet as he busies himself in the kitchen.

Ah, right. He should call the station and tell them he can't go to work today or tomorrow.

Well, not that it matters anyway, he's still suspended from duty. But he still feels like he needs to inform the captain.

He's in the middle of pouring beaten eggs into the pan when tattooed arms suddenly come into view and snake around his waist.

"Morning, honey." Lee Do freezes. His voice is somehow huskier in the morning, he notices. "Mm… that smells good." Moon Baek plants a kiss on his cheek, then rests his chin on the crown of his head. "You should've woken me up, I wanna make you breakfast."

Calm down, he thinks to himself.

This is considerably normal for couples—except, of course, they're not a couple. But Moon Baek thinks they are. So he should let him do all of these gestures to him, right?

Lee Do is trying to think of anything to say, but his throat feels dry. He flips the omelette with practiced ease.

"Next time," he manages at last. "Did you sleep well?"

"Kind of. But I woke up with a headache."

His hands pause mid-motion. He turns around, only to instantly regret it because Moon Baek is standing way too close. The younger, however, seems surprised, like he didn't expect Lee Do to face him from that distance. Lee Do tries to ignore the way his eyes light up.

"Is it still bad? You should take your meds."

"You're worried?" Moon Baek's grip around his body tightens, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe this is him being sleep deprived, but the sight of Moon Baek standing in his kitchen in his clothes, which, looks tightly fit on him, or maybe too tight in some areas. With the morning sun spilling across his features, and that infuriating little smirk, it all makes him think Moon Baek looks unfairly stunning.

Lee Do tears his gaze away. He definitely needs his caffeine.

Then, before he can gather a proper retort, the taller one leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of his lips, lingering for maybe a second longer than it should. It is just a peck, but that's enough to fry every working neuron in his brain.

Lee Do's breath catches in his throat.

"Relax! Moon Baeki took the meds already." He says, grinning.

He shoves his chest, not enough to break the hold, but enough to put a space between them.

"Go sit down, breakfast's almost ready."

Moon Baek only chuckles, "Okay, okay."

Soon enough, the omelette's ready, and the two of them eat in silence.

He can feel the weight of Moon Baek's gaze on him from time to time, but Lee Do pretends not to catch on that.

"I'm sorry." Moon Baek starts.

"Hm?" Lee Do's brows furrow. He doesn't understand why Moon Baek suddenly apologized.

The younger bites his lip, he continues, "I made you worry last night and you had to fetch me from the hospital. And worse of all…" he frowns, hand scratching his forehead that's still wrapped with a bandage. "I forgot everything about us."

Lee Do's eyes soften at the younger. He sounded so earnest for someone whom Lee Do still can't fully trust yet.

"That's fine." In his head, he adds, because there's no us to begin with. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"But you're not!" He exclaims. Lee Do is startled by the sudden rise of his voice. "I imagine it must've been hard for you when you found out I don't remember anything. Well, I mean, I do remember you when you showed up... I saw you, and immediately knew we spent so much time together. And I remember I love you a lot—"

Lee Do coughs, a grain of rice enters the wrong pipe, his throat stings, and his eyes water.

"Water! Water!" Moon Baek scrambles to give him a glass of water and quickly runs to his side, rubbing his back in a circular motion. Lee Do gulps it down in one go, trying to even out his breath. His brain is still trying to catch up with what Moon Baek had said.

"You…" Lee Do wipes his mouth with a napkin. His heart hammered inside his ribcage, and he didn't know if it was because he was coughing violently, or it was because of Moon Baek. "Love me?"

"Of course. Why would Moon Baeki forget about that?"

He looks back down at the half-eaten omelette.

This must've been a mistake. There's no way Moon Baek—

The taller then squats, so he can see the look on Lee Do's face, his big hand holding his. There are callouses on his fingers, and the warmth feels grounding.

"I might forget about our memories," he starts, finger tracing his palm. When Lee Do raises his gaze, he meets those eyes that are staring at him with too much softness in them. Has Moon Baek always been looking at me like that? "But I'll never forget the feeling. I loved you then before I lost my memories, and I love you now. My heart knows you."

Lee Do gapes at him, waiting for a 'Haha I'm joking! You seriously believed that?' But nothing comes out of Moon Baek's mouth. If anything, this is probably one of the rare moments when Moon Baek gets serious. The hold on his hand tighten up.

"Trust me."

He doesn't mean that. That's just him being confused. His mind tries to remind him.

"Alright."

"You don't go to work today?" Moon Baek questions.

His back is facing him, doing the dishes while Lee Do lounges on the couch, watching the news on television.

"I'm suspended from work."

"Ah, so I'm dating a troublemaker," Moon Baek jokes, which results in Lee Do throwing him a cold stare but that doesn't stop him at all from smirking slyly. "You're gonna be home all day, then?"

"Yes. The doctor told me to keep an eye on you."

Moon Baek scoffs, trudging towards him, around the couch and sitting next to him. "I'm not made of glass."

Lee Do knows Moon Baek can be really stubborn, so he chooses not to respond anything. He's not going to leave Moon Baek alone in his house, and that's final. Because first, the doctor had said so. He's not risking a man, who just got into a car accident, needing a sudden medical assistance in his living room if he decides to leave Moon Baek alone. And second, he can't trust Moon Baek yet.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he barely recognize Moon Baek already flops his head on his lap.

He stills, hand hovering above his back like he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Do you have another headache?"

"No."

"Then why…"

The younger pouts, "God forbid a grown man wants to be spoiled by his boyfriend."

The word makes his stomach flip. Right. They're supposed to be boyfriends. These kinds of things are normal.

Hesitantly, Lee Do then lays his hand on his head. His long hair feels coarse against his skin, but he still runs his fingers through it gently.

"Do-yah," he calls.

The older hums in response even though he's a bit annoyed realizing that Moon Baek is the kind of person who won't call someone Hyung just because they're older.

"Could you tell me about us?" He shifts, now fully facing him, and Lee Do forces himself not to look away. "I really feel bad about not remembering anything. I wanna know more about you—about us. How we met, what we usually do on weekends, where's our favorite date spot, anything."

He inhales slowly, turning the TV off.

What should he even say? He barely even knows Moon Baek himself. Just his name and his former workplace, and even those need to be investigated further. Trusting him blindly would be reckless.

The only thing he's truly certain about Moon Baek is that the man is dying, cancer quietly gnawing at his body.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Should he lie? How far should he let this pretend play go? Lee Do isn't sure anymore.

He tilts his head, eyes tracing the golden specks of morning light on his ceiling.

"We… actually met not too long ago. Unfortunately, work's been eating up most of my time, so we never really got the chance to go on a proper date." His lips press into a tight line. Does that sound too cold for someone who's supposed to love each other? A beat passes, then he adds, "But you're always there to help when I need it, so everything's a lot easier when I'm with you."

Yet even as the words leave his mouth, doubt lingers like a bad perfume.

Is this really okay, to be alone with a man whose background he barely knows? This is the same man he asked Jeongu to investigate just a few weeks ago, after all. The man who, for some reason, was skittering in Jeon Wonseong's house that night, looking for a gun. And yet, here he is, sitting on his couch, with Moon Baek lying on his lap and his fingers running through his hair.

Lee Do supposes that, after that night at the hospital, when they were waiting for Mrs. Oh's surgery and Moon Baek shared his rough past, it's getting harder to separate sympathy from caution when it comes to him.

Compared to the night they met, Moon Baek looks more fragile now. Thin wrists, tired eyes, gray strands spilling from his scalp, and six months left on his clock—maybe even less.

But beneath that frail skin, who is he, really?

"Something on your mind, sweet thing?" Calloused hand comes into contact with his cheek.

Warm.

Summoning the courage and willing away the damning redness on the tips of his ears, Lee Do looks back at him. "Don't call me that."

Moon Baek's smile slips when their eyes meet. He shifts, elbow propped on the couch, pushing himself into Lee Do's space. "Why? You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

Lee Do's forehead twitches, averting his gaze, never wanting to reply to anything to that because, obviously, that was just a mockery.

He's been called a lot of things—hard-working by his colleagues, cheapskate by Seyoung, worrywart by Captain Cho. But never pretty. So when that word came out of his mouth, Lee Do pursed his lips, keeping a low scoff from escaping.

"You don't trust me." Moon Baek prods.

And he's completely right. Lee Do doesn't trust him, especially coming from a man who'd usually say something mischievous every time with a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

Moon Baek, however, doesn't retreat. He keeps inching closer to the older. "Should I try harder so that you'd listen to me?"

"What are you—" his sentence abruptly stops when a hand slips behind his neck. Those rough, warm fingers are curling just below his hair, and suddenly, the air feels too heavy.

"You flinch every time I get close," his voice rumbles low. He comes close enough to Lee Do that their noses brush together. His breath falls hot on Lee Do's lips. "Do I scare you?"

Lee Do's hand shoots up, meaning to push him away, but the younger catches it midair and, without breaking eye contact, Moon Baek presses a soft, maddening kiss to his inner wrist, teeth nibbling at the skin lightly.

"As if," he whispers, stiff and breathless.

Moon Baek hums with amusement. His eyes fleet to his lips for a second before staring back at the older. "Good."

The next thing he knows is that a pair of warm lips is on his. Moon Baek's lips are, unexpectedly, soft. So soft, velvety, and wet. Moon Baek's warm hand cups his cheek, angling his face better, causing their lips to slide together. The kiss is almost strangely feverish, sending a shiver down his spine and his skin is electrified.

His thoughts keep racing, moving from one place to the other, like pulsars rotating so rapidly in the sky they're almost mistaken as flickering lights. All while the world around him moves in a languid pace, as if his body is succumbing in a pot of warm, slippery honey. The contrast makes his head spin.

He shouldn't be doing this. Not with Moon Baek.

Lee Do doesn't know how to deal with the warmth of Moon Baek's tongue against the roof of his mouth. He grabs a fistful of his long hair, not enough to break the kiss, but enough to make the younger hiss and smirk against his mouth. A low guttural noise threatens to escape from his throat when one of his big hands slips inside his shirt, fingers tentatively curling around his bare waist, pulling him impossibly closer against his body.

He's the one to break the kiss first, gasping for air.

"Moon Baek-ah, wait—" he croaks out, hand trying to push him away.

But the taller lunges forward, chasing him. With his love-drunk eyes, he presses their lips together again like a starved man. Moon Baek bares his teeth, ready to bite and suck his lower lip so hard until it's swollen—and he does. And when Lee Do parts his mouth in a gasp, he sweeps his tongue along Lee Do's, as if he's apologizing.

"You're so pretty, Do-yah," he breathes out between the kisses. "Makes me wonder how you'll look like when you're falling apart beneath me."

He dips in again, pushing Lee Do until he lies on the couch while he's straddling in between his thighs. The older hums against his mouth, their lips slick with saliva. Moon Baek's hand inches higher underneath his shirt, his thumb traces a warm path across his chest, and Lee Do has to tighten his grip on his broad shoulder to suppress any unholy noises escaping from his mouth.

"Wait—"

Every inch of Moon Baek's body feels scalding against his, making him feel lightweight and his gut tighten. Lee Do whimpers when the younger rolls his hips experimentally, causing his lips to part wider. Moon Baek uses that chance to take control over the man, lapping at his inner walls.

It's a heady feeling, having Moon Baek's weight flushed against his and the room filled with the obscene sound of them. But it's getting more and more difficult for him to catch his breath, and since he knows Moon Baek won't listen to him anyway, the only way to break this is—

"Ouch!" Moon Baek puts distance between them. For a split second there, Lee Do can taste the warm tang of copper on his tongue. "You bit me!"

The older licks the trail of blood on his lips, tasting Moon Baek once again. "I told you to wait, and you didn't listen."

Moon Baek pouts, sputtering how much it hurts.

"Take it easy," he creates a distance between him and the younger by pressing his palm against his chest. "You just got out of the hospital."

There are, Lee Do believes, at least three things he should've done by now. Four, including dinner prep. But after he deep-cleaned his apartment and made lunch, Lee Do ended up stretched out on the couch to continue reading the novel he put down last week. It was probably on the third paragraph of the second chapter when he let an oomph sound because there was a sudden weight pressing him down. Moon Baek had draped himself over him like a human blanket, mumbling that his body was killing him and he needed to rest.

In any other situation, Lee Do would've tried to push him off with an exasperated sigh and told him to go sleep in the bedroom if he was really that tired. But he noticed the way Moon Baek's breath was haggard and short, his forehead damp, and one of his hands clutching his side as though trying to keep the pain from spilling out.

"Let's go to the hospital." Lee Do whispers at some point.

But Moon Baek only let out a soft, crooked laugh, "Nah, don't worry. It'll pass. I'm familiar with this."

Lee Do is not sure that Moon Baek takes it as some kind of normalcy to him. Moon Baek is a lot of things. He's extremely childish, weird, chaotic, and every other aspect that Lee Do might not like in a person. But never this, pale and trembling. Moon Baek is never weak. He knew Moon Baek took down at least a dozen men by himself with his bare hands the other night, so seeing him in pain and vulnerable makes his stomach churn in a way he can't even begin to explain.

He could only rub Moon Baek's back in a soothing circular motion and bury his nose on the crown of his head, hoping it would lull him to rest.

It takes almost half an hour before his breath evens out, Moon Baek's weight sinking heavier against him as sleep claimed him. An hour for Lee Do's limbs to start to go numb because, apparently, the man weighs more than his wiry frame suggested. And two and a half hours more until Moon Baek stirs, eyelids fluttering open.

"Crap, did I sleep that long?"

"Yes," he responds. "Does it still hurt?"

"Nope," he enunciates the smack of his lips at the end of the word. "Told ya it'll pass."

Moon Baek peels himself off with a stretch, arms reaching up, and back arching until Lee Do's shirt is riding up his stomach, revealing the dark edges of his tattoo and his surgery scars. Lee Do averts his gaze.

"That's great. But if the pain comes back, we're going to the hospital."

"Aww, you care about me." Moon Baek coos.

"Aren't I your boyfriend?" he mutters under his breath, but it seems that the younger catches it because the next thing he knows, is that he's once again being pinned down against the couch. Those arms grip his middle so tight Lee Do can't pry them off even if he tries.

"Do you know you're cute, being a tsundere like this?"

Being a what?

"Moon Baek, please, you're heavy."

"Oh," the taller quickly releases him, rising from his position. "Sorry."

Lee Do follows suit, but before he can even fully stand up, his legs give up on him.

"Whoa," Moon Baek catches him, hands gripping his waist. Once again, Lee Do is surrounded by that familiar warmth. "Easy, love."

Lee Do attempts to straighten his body, but the blood hasn't rushed to his limbs yet, causing him fall back onto the couch.

"Want me to carry you?" The younger offers.

"No, I can—wait!" Moon Baek doesn't wait for a response because now, all Lee Do can do, is hook his legs around his hips and his hands gripping those broad shoulders. The taller has his hands supporting the back of his thighs and gazes up at him.

"Wow, I didn't know you have plumpy thighs, Do-yah." Lee Do scowls as he feels those big hands squeeze his thighs, fingers dangerously close to his ass. "Should we do it while standing up? I haven't forgotten how to do that." he teases, lips forming a Cheshire cat smile.

"Put me down," he croaks out, sounding more like a threat than a command.

Moon Baek hums, then he singsongs, "Don't wanna~"

Lee Do ignores the heat on his nape, starting to get really annoyed at the younger. "Put me down or I'll handcuff you again."

Putting on a salacious smile, Moon Baek purrs. "Ooh kinky, aren't we? By all means, Officer, you can cuff me to your bed and I'll let you use me for as long as you— AH! Why do you like biting me that much?!"

Doing groceries together with your (supposed) lover is not romantic, Lee Do has decided this. Because what do you mean Lee Do has to put back things that mysteriously appeared in the cart because someone takes whatever that looks interesting to him?

"We're not buying one kilo of yogurt." Lee Do says, returning the jar to the cool shelf.

"But it's on sale! And I like yogurt—specifically the strawberry one."

"We don't need that much yogurt, Moon Baek." He replies, face as impassive as ever. Looking at the younger's pouting face, Lee Do then sighs. "Take the single packs if you want."

"Yes!"

He pushes the cart further to the dairy products area while Moon Baek lingers behind, still picking and comparing different brands of yogurt. After picking the usual carton of milk, Lee Do glances at the latter.

The LED light from the fridge casts a cold glow over the taller's face, softening the sharpness of his features, making him look almost too gentle. He shouldn't be noticing things like that. Lee Do shouldn't be wondering why the corners of Moon Baek's mouth twitch when he's concentrating, or the way his hair almost immediately falls back right over his eyebrows as he swipes it back.

A low irritation stirs in his chest, at how every small, ridiculous thing this man does has started to pull him in, and that's dangerous, Lee Do noted. Moon Baek has a way of slipping past his defenses with that infuriating sweetness, and Lee Do doesn't know when he stopped resisting it.

"Officer Lee?" He turns and finds Jeongu there. "Didn't expect to see you here," The young officer greets, smiling as he bows.

"I live around the block, just doing my weekly grocery. Do you live nearby too?"

"No, no. I'm visiting a friend from college. I figured I need to buy some beers to his place. Are you alone?"

"Uh, no. Actually–" his sentence dies the second he feels a feathery kiss on his cheek and four packs of strawberry yogurt—all of different brands—being added to the cart.

"Lee Do, can I get potato chips too?" Moon Baek chirps, already halfway gone. Lee Do, however, stands frozen. His brain is short-circuited and his throat feels dry. He only manages a stiff nod, not daring himself to look at Jeongu because the man must be twice as shocked. "Nice!" And off Moon Baek goes, his long legs taking him to the snacks aisle.

Jeongu's eyes widen, watching all that happened in front of him, he gasps.

"Isn't that the guy you asked me to investigate? Moon Baek, right?" he questions, trying to contain his voice to a whisper.

Lee Do scrubs a hand down his face in embarrassment. "Yes."

Jeongu's brows shoot up. "You're joking…"

Lee Do mumbles, "It's a long story. But I need you to keep looking into him."

The newly recruited officer sneaks another glance toward the man. Lee Do follows his line of sight. There he is, standing, reaching for the highest shelf. He grins widely as he secures the chips, and in that same moment, Moon Baek turns and catches Lee Do's gaze. His expression is coy, and he dares to blow him a kiss and wink at him. Clearing his throat, Lee Do looks away like it didn't just actually happen.

"No way…" Jeongu hisses, eyes back on Lee Do. "Are you going out with him?"

"It's not like that."

"Then why does he act so sweetly toward you?" Jeongu probes.

"He only does it to annoy me."

"You wound me, my love." His sudden presence jolts him in surprise. Moon Baek looms both of them, a bag of chips in one hand, lower lip jutting out in theatrical heartbreak. With his loud voice, he starts, "I'm showing you my affection, and you call it annoying? Do you not love me anymore?!"

Heads are turning now. An old lady by the refrigerator pauses mid-reach for a butter. A kid in a Superman shirt whispers something to his mom. And of course, Jeongu, who covers half of his face with his hand in shock.

The alarms in his brain are going off. Lee Do feels as though his soul leaves his body. With the heat flooding his ears, he grabs the cart handle like a lifeline and hisses through clenched teeth, "For god's sake, don't say stuff like that in public."

"But I'm your boyfriend. Why can't I say I love you in public?"

"You're not—" Lee Do aborts the sentence halfway as soon as he remembers what the doctor said. So he pushes the cart forward and tugs Moon Baek by the elbow, pulling him away from there. "See you around, Jeongu."

Moon Baek, despite that, doesn't resist. He lets himself be dragged down the aisle, muttering something under his breath.

"So you hate me."

Lee Do's step stops once they reach the meat and seafood section, hand releasing Moon Baek.

"I don't know where you got that conclusion." He doesn't even spare him a glance, hands busy picking out good meat for dinner.

"You were hiding the fact that we're boyfriends from your coworker or whoever the fuck he is. You even said I'm being annoying," Moon Baek sulks. His arms are crossed, eyes glued somewhere on the linoleum floor. Then, his voice dips quieter. "Are you ashamed to have a boyfriend like me?"

There's nothing nonchalant about the question. For some reason, it even sounds almost too vulnerable, and he only saw vulnerability with Moon Baek only twice before this, so this still startles him. It's like there's a twist somewhere beneath his ribs.

He knows this is supposed to be a simple, temporary arrangement—a secret, from his side, to keep things calm while the younger recovers from his concussion. And yet, it's hard not to break his walls down when Moon Baek sounds like that.

Lee Do finally turns around, staring at the taller. His eyes soften. "I'm not ashamed of you," he utters. "I'm just… not used to this."

Moon Baek looks up, the sulk is still there but less sharp. "Not used to what?"

The man sighs, placing the meat pack in the cart. "Not used to having anyone at all."

Silence falls between them, and as if to lighten the mood, Moon Baek tries to joke, though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Ah, it seems like Lee Do has ruined his mood.

"It's a good thing fate brought you to me, then. You'll have me forever."

Lee Do blinks, then he smiles weakly, barely raising the corners of his lips.

"Right."

I don't think you're gonna stay once you regain your memories.

That thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Something about Moon Baek reminds him of a supernova. A tremendously bright, powerful cataclysmic stellar explosion before it dims away slowly and ends its lifetime. He's destructive and maddening, ripping away Lee Do's personal space every time he has the chance, and volatile in showing his emotions, too—one second he's all grin and clingy, the next he's sulky and pouty.

But then again, if you look at him from a different perspective, Lee Do thinks Moon Baek is also exorbitantly beautiful.

That thought has been dormant in the back of his mind for a while, and Lee Do thought he wouldn't have to worry about it creeping in and occupying his brain.

And yet, something lurches beneath his ribs when he sees Moon Baek, quietly absorbed as he leans over the turntable, fingertips hovering above one of his 33 rpm records with a sort of reverence, curiosity painting his face. He wears one of Lee Do's sweatshirt—the one that's too big on him because he bought the wrong size and left it in one of his suitcases and never touched it again until he forgot he had this sweatshirt. It looks better on Moon Baek now.

Lee Do watches as Moon Baek sweeps his eyes over every album name in his collection. The light from the city's skyscrapers peeks through the gap of the curtains, illuminating his face in a soft cast. He observes the way Moon Baek's lashes brush against the high points of his cheeks whenever he blinks, and for a flicker of moment, Lee Do has the absurd urge to reach out.

"I rarely play it," Lee Do states, more to distract himself from the thoughts rather than opening a conversation between them. His hand is wiping the sauce that spattered on the kitchen counter with a napkin.

"Should we?" Moon Baek asks, hand already deciding which album are they going to play.

Tossing the napkin into the bin, Lee Do shrugs. "Sure."

Moon Baek then places the record on the player and lowers the needle. The record starts spinning and soon enough, a song that he was once familiar with fills the air. It is an old R&B song with lyrics Lee Do can't quite catch since it's in a language he barely speaks, but he hums to the melody nonetheless.

His gaze moves from looking for another dirty spot in his kitchen, to the artificial plants on the corner, and ends up at Moon Baek who's sauntering toward his direction.

Having Moon Baek exist within the same walls makes him realize that the younger has this habit of blinking twice quickly when he starts smiling. The kind of smile that's widely stretched on his face without raising the corners of his lips. It's endearing to see, though Lee Do will never admit it.

"Dance with me?" Moon Baek asks once he's in front of him.

Lee Do's silent for a few seconds, but he doesn't stop Moon Baek's fingers from entwining his. "Where does this come from?"

Moon Baek's eyes are crinkling, their shape akin to a crescent moon. "Thought I could create new memories with you since I can't remember anything. I mean I've tried, but all I got was a headache."

With the tip of his finger, he taps Moon Baek's forehead lightly. Not enough to make the stitches on his temple sting, but enough to tell the younger that he's reprimanding him. "The doctor told you not to force yourself to remember things, you know?" Moon Baek frowns. "Also, sorry to disappoint you but I can't dance."

"It's okay. You can step on my feet and hold onto me."

Moon Baek doesn't wait for an answer, going in closer and placing his free hand on the dip of Lee Do's waist. It surprises Lee Do, too, to find himself so willingly being pulled and doing just as Moon Baek told him to.

This is awkward, Lee Do thinks to himself as he stands on Moon Baek's feet, hands resting firmly on his broad shoulders. When Moon Baek thinks the latter has found a comfortable position, he starts to move.

I'll make love to you, like you want me to
And I'll hold you tight, baby all through the night I'll make love to you

Their bodies move clockwise around the kitchen counter and through the living room, and Moon Baek has the gall to laugh whenever Lee Do grimaces if he steps back a bit too wide or spins too fast, forcing Lee Do to tighten his grip on his shoulders. It's a miracle his footing doesn't slip yet.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna catch you if you fall," he whispers in his ear.

That got him raising his gaze, eyes looking for Moon Baek's without having to create distance. His heart leaps, falls flat on the ground, gets bruised, and dies.

It's almost ten o'clock at night and in mid-May when the air of Seoul starts to cool and Lee Do can feel the goosebumps on his skin since he left the windows by the kitchen open. But Moon Baek's body is warm against his, attached to his bones like flesh, running through his veins like blood, and he stands close enough for Lee Do to make out what shade of brown Moon Baek's eyes are—and why is it so disparaging to reduce those spellbinding hues to just one word.

He takes another inhale, thinking of saying something right now—anything—to ask if he's too heavy, or should they stop what they're doing. Because this is something he's not used to, sharing minimal space, fingers tingling in anticipation, eyes tracing every curve and line on his features, every wall of his heart bleeding from the constant chant of Moon Baek, Moon Baek, Moon Baek. But forming a word might shatter this moment and Lee Do doesn't know if he's going to have another blessing in his life like this again.

But one way or another, the silence between them is bound to end, though it's not him who breaks it—of course, it's not Lee Do, especially if it's accompanied by a coy expression.

"You're staring." Moon Baek's lips curved, amused.

Moon Baek smiles a lot, Lee Do noticed that from the very beginning, and he doesn't know why Moon Baek keeps doing that. Sometimes, through a long hard look, Lee Do can see his smiles are dishonest—pretentious, the stretch is too wide and his eyes barely crinkle. It almost seems like he wants to taunt people with that facet he creates.

He, however, never faked his smile in front of Lee Do. But what does that mean?

Opening his mouth, Lee Do tries to make a sound, but asphyxiation holds him down by the throat. The words dwindle before they even form and spill, and he finds himself grappling for an explanation he can't give. How does he admit that sometimes Moon Baek is too much to look at directly, like staring into the sunlight?

And this, is where Lee Do realized he's starting to fall, for Lee Do begins to feel the fear that he will never be able to let go of him. And he doesn't know if he wants that to happen—falling for Moon Baek.

It reminds him of something he once heard from someone, that every person carries one particular emotion like it's their second skin. Anger, contentedness, longing—whatever it is, it shapes the weight of their choices. He never thought much about it then, but now that he thinks about it, it makes sense. Some people were born out of joy and kept chasing it their whole life. Others seem to move with grief pressing into their marrow.

For him, though, it had always been fear. Fear of losing what little he holds close—like his family, or rather, his found family now. Fear of picking up guns again. Fear of that one recurring dream he has—of scorching sun and dusty expansive fields of golden brown, with corpses scattered around and their bodies bloodied by his own hands.

Now, in this specific moment, Lee Do fears of baring his heart just for Moon Baek to see.

And perhaps that's why Moon Baek unsettles him so much. Because where Lee Do measures everything against the pulse of his fear, Moon Baek seems to live in defiance of it, like he doesn't recognize the word at all, dauntless for all he is. Sweetness, affection, the reckless way he reaches for Lee Do without hesitation—it all feel foreign, and yet Lee Do keeps letting him. And every time he does, Lee Do's fear only sharpens, because he can't tell if what he dreads more is losing Moon Baek, or the terrifying thought of being allowed to keep him close.

But also, maybe Lee Do takes too little credit for how sensitive Moon Baek can be, because the taller one nudges him again when he doesn't get any answers from Lee Do.

"What's on your mind?"

Lee Do shakes his head weakly, "You won't like it."

"Tell me anyway."

So he takes a deep breath, slow and reluctant, composing himself because he'll never know what kind of answer he'd get.

"What if you regret it?" Lee Do asks finally. He's not sure if Moon Baek understands what he means, because he intended to leave the question that way, lack of context.

"Why would I?" a beat passes, then, "Are you scared?"

Lee Do doesn't answer, only grants him a look.

Moon Baek's voice lowers, almost like a quiet vow. "As long as it is you, Lee Do, I will never regret it."

Oh.

He feels the waves flood over his chest. In the next instant, Lee Do let himself be drowned and consumed by Moon Baek.

It starts with an innocent kiss, then a more suffocating one a few moments later. Every lick and every bite the man leaves on his lips feel voracious and insatiable, and Lee Do doesn't remember how long his feet have been dangling in the air as Moon Baek carries him to the bedroom. He groans when the younger tosses him onto his bed, the creaking of the bed sounds sinister in the late spring night.

"Off." Moon Baek says in between their kisses while tugging at his shirt.

He doesn't waste another second to discard it along with his pants, Moon Baek mirrors him. With his half-lidded eyes, he let his gaze wander over his body.

Lee Do can't breathe, his chest feels too tight, like saltwater has filled his lungs from the inside. He's seen men before, beautiful men, but never like him. The way Moon Baek hovers above him, the curve of his smirk, or even those somber eyes that are staring back at him. Lee Do genuinely has never seen someone as breathtaking as the man in front of him. For a moment there, Lee Do wonders if Moon Baek knows he has him moonstruck. But it seems that Moon Baek is aware of what's on his mind, because the next thing he does is that he catches Lee Do's hand and kisses his palm.

"Like what you see, Officer Lee?" The younger probes, his voice saccharine.

"Stop teasing me."

Moon Baek hums an apology as he surges forward once more, capturing Lee Do's lips in the most obscene kiss. He sucks Lee Do's bottom lip and slips his velvety tongue into his cavernous mouth, sending pressure down his core. With his hand, Lee Do finds home in his long hair, keeping him as close as possible. A suppressed moan catches in his throat when Moon Baek decides to rub his naked thigh, inching higher to the curves of his hip bones and waist. His nails are grazing against his skin, and Lee Do can't help but to spill his whimper against his mouth.

Kissing Moon Baek, Lee Do realized, doesn't feel like the flutter of butterflies in his stomach or fireworks exploding in his chest just like how those authors portray in the books. Kissing Moon Baek feels like fear, confusion, joy, and hunger at the same time. It feels intoxicating and Lee Do wants to feel more of it.

Moon Baek is the first to break apart and he can practically see the glint in those eyes when Lee Do unconsciously chases his mouth. But the younger doesn't relent. He dives lower, kissing, biting, and sucking at his neck down to his chest until his skin is blooming with reds and purples. It's like Moon Baek is trying to tell him that Lee Do is his, and this is the proof.

With the pressure of Moon Baek's hot tongue on his collarbone and the teeth that are occasionally pulling at his skin, Lee Do is too hazy to notice the big hand that is reaching out to his nether area. He only lets out a desperate mewl once the fingers almost wrap themselves around his hardened cock. On sheer instinct, he pushes his hips forward, trying to create more friction.

The younger chuckles, "So needy. Use your words."

Lee Do tries, really, but it's so hard when Moon Baek's hardly even making any contact, only resting his calloused thumb against the underside of his cock. Even so, the touch sends electricity down to his spine and Lee Do can't stop himself from gasping.

But Lee Do isn't going to beg, especially to someone like Moon Baek. So he cups each side of Moon Baek's face instead, bringing him closer, and kisses him again ravenously.

"How sly." Moon Baek rasps, but he obliges anyway.

There's nothing soft or gentle about their kiss. It is more like a battle of dominance, all tongue and teeth and heat. Lee Do can't help the embarrassing whimper that claws its way out of his throat when Moon Baek drags his hot tongue over the roof of his mouth.

Moon Baek is leaning over him, fingers buried in Lee Do's hair while his other hand finally starts to stroke him at a languid pace. Lee Do's cock slides in the hollow of his thick fingers with the movement, and he refuses to whine when Moon Baek's hand moves too slowly for him who's impatient. He tries to jerk his hips, meeting Moon Baek halfway, but the tightening grip of his fingers in his strands stops him.

"Patience, baby." Moon Baek whispers before tightening his fist around him. Lee Do shivers as a result.

He shuts his eyes and his thighs quiver, accidentally biting Moon Baek's lip a bit too hard in the process when the younger collects precum from his tip and uses it as lubrication to move his hand more easily. Moon Baek strokes him fully, from the very base all the way up to his tip, then back down with every twitch. Lee Do can't even tell anymore if the wet squelching sound comes from Moon Baek's tongue fucking his mouth or it's the hand on his dripping cock, everything sounds muffled over the blood rushing in his ears. His eyes are rolling back in bliss when Moon Baek twists his wrist and rubs his palm over Lee Do's slit.

"A-ah!" Lee Do moans shamelessly, hips bucking up.

Moon Baek leans back, marveling at how debauched Lee Do looked right now—the hickeys adorning his neck down to his sternum, the swollen lips that are still glossy with their spit, and his sorry attempt at hiding his face that flushes red behind his hands.

"Don't cover yourself, I wanna see you." Moon Baek protests, his big hand reaching both of Lee Do's wrists and holding them above his head while his other hand is still working his wet fist up and down his cock.

Pounding rapidly behind his ribcage is his erratic heart, trying to hold himself from spilling too soon. But the ache between his legs grows more and more unbearable every second from the stimulation, and Moon Baek's fingers are unrelenting. The younger strokes down as far as the middle of his cock and up again, really focusing the pumps on the area under the reddening tip, using Lee Do's fluid to keep the motion smooth.

Lee Do knows Moon Baek is just as affected as he is, judging by the hot, hard cock that's brushing against his thigh. There's a clear string sopping from the tip, dripping onto Lee Do's inner thigh. It's warm and slick, and Lee Do burns with want.

"You look so beautiful, Do-yah." Moon Baek's eyes track every twitch and quiver on Lee Do's body, watching him with intent, his gaze cloudy with lust.

Moon Baek is thumbing at his leaking slit, smearing his precum everywhere. It's messy and Lee Do feels his hips involuntarily shaking, fucking himself into the tightness of his rough, calloused hand.

They've been at it for such a short time, and yet, Lee Do is already feeling that familiar heat in his gut, the one that tells him he's nearly there.

"I'm– hah, close," he heaves, something warm pooling in his gut. "Don't stop."

The older can barely process what's happening with all the heat in his groin, so he lets out a desperate wail when Moon Baek suddenly releases him all at once.

"Not so fast, angel."

Lee Do tries to scowl, berating him for stopping, but he cannot as he suddenly feels something cold and gooey touch his entrance.

"What the–"

"Relax, love, I'm just trying to prepare you."

"No, that's not–" Lee Do raises his upper body, elbows propping on the bed, looking at Moon Baek's hand that's holding a bottle of lube—a box of condoms also lies somewhere near his knee. "Where did you get those?"

"Huh?"

"I don't have lube and condoms,"

"Damn, we've been doing it raw all this time?"

Lee Do wants to smack his oblivious face, but he chooses to ignore the urge. "That's not the point. Where did you get it?" He repeats, enunciating every syllable. "Did you steal from the supermarket? Was that why you went back and told me to wait on the side of the road?"

"Oh, great moral compass!" The younger scoffs, "I'm so close to fucking you and all you can think about is me stealing…" He gestures at the things sprawled on Lee Do's bed. "These?!"

"You didn't?"

"No!" Moon Baek huffs out of exasperation, ears tinged with pink. "Now, would you please spread your legs wider for me, Officer Lee?"

Lee Do looks away at the nickname, but he does what Moon Baek told him to. He relaxes once again, lying on his back while Moon Baek guides him to open his legs further, positioning himself in between.

He feels Moon Baek's gaze on him as he hears the sound of a tube being squeezed. Inching closer to Lee Do's fluttering hole. Anticipation leaves Lee Do's skin buzzing, his cock bobbing helplessly. The older lets out a hiss when the coldness hits his skin, but Moon Baek shushes him by rubbing his thigh in a comforting manner.

Moon Baek traces circles around his ring, caressing his tense muscle over and over again. When Moon Baek finally pushes his finger in, slowly at first, then breaching all the way into his deepness, Lee Do jostles, thighs almost snapping back shut if it's not for Moon Baek's knees that are keeping them apart. The stretch and burn are unfamiliar, but Moon Baek is patient enough to wait until his breathing evens out before he starts moving.

"Hurt?" Moon Baek asks, his finger dragging excruciatingly slow and steady against his walls.

"No."

Lee Do wanted to say it feels weird, especially because he's never done this before—being the one who receives. Of course he has experience in bed. A few, actually, even though the last one was probably three years ago. All of them were always a one-time thing, never the same person, and he never stayed, too. But it felt good, nonetheless, seeing someone becomes undone before him. Now, however, he's experiencing something completely new. Part of him feels uneasy, and yet, at the same time, his body shivers in eagerness.

But if he says any of that—if he says the sensation is nothing like he ever imagined, that'd be too suspicious because, well, they're supposed to be a couple, right? And doing this with your lover should be considered normal.

Moon Baek's movement is too slow, too gentle, as if he's afraid he's going to break Lee Do, and Lee Do's patience is getting thinner. He wriggles around under his touch, his body needs more. His hands dart up to grab a fistful of Moon Baek's hair, the other one ends up on the blade of his shoulder.

"You don't have to be so gentle with me. I can take it."

Moon Baek sucks his breath. His cock twitching upon hearing that, drooling more precum onto his thick thigh. For a second, he thinks he sees Moon Baek's gaze darkening—like a predator looking at his prey, the desire he has for Lee Do is so obvious in his eyes, and Lee Do should be scared, but he rolls his hips forward, grinding himself against Moon Baek's finger.

The younger groans, "Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me, Do-yah."

So he listens to Lee Do, starting to move his finger faster, deeper.

Having Moon Baek's digit inside him makes him realize that Moon Baek has bigger hands than him. His palm is warm against the curve of his waist and his finger is long and slick against his walls. It takes Lee Do's breath away when the younger twists and flicks his digit inside, blood rushing to his face as his arousal throbs.

Moon Baek moves his finger back and forth repeatedly, making sure the tense muscle eases before plunging the second one straight to the deepest knuckle. The officer hisses from the sudden intrusion, gasping and scratching Moon Baek's skin when he starts scissoring him open. Those thick fingers are stretching his inner walls, rubbing, pushing into him all the way to the knuckles. The whimper that is leaving his mouth is downright embarrassing, Lee Do wishes he could turn around and muffle himself into the pillow.

Moon Baek pulls his fingers completely out, only to shove them back in one go and curl them, searching for something, and when the pads of his fingers brush that bundle of nerves, the moan Lee Do releases is broken and high. His eyes are rolling to the back of his head as the raw, mind-numbing pleasure takes over his body.

"Fuck, you're so tight," the younger chokes out, his eyes never leaving his ravaged, pink rim. "You'd take my cock so well, wouldn't you?"

A shudder coursed over his entire body with those words, his already burning skin now even more aflame. He never thought of himself being needy, but Moon Baek has made himself incredibly sensitive, and his desire flares. Lee Do bites his lip, unable to respond to him when his body feels like it has a mind of its own, chasing the pleasure by driving his hips down to meet Moon Baek's probing hand.

The older mewls wantonly as Moon Baek fits the third finger, adding burn to his ring. His cock is painfully rigid and drenched from the denied ejaculation earlier, but the fullness makes him writhe. His legs are jerking as if they want to close, nails leaving red trails in their wake on that tanned skin every time Moon Baek brushes his most sensitive spot.

Moon Baek is not being as merciful as he was before, for the touch on his prostate becomes incessant and more brutal with every thrust. While Lee Do is, basically, dying. It feels like Moon Baek knows exactly where and how to steal his breath away. The way his fingers explore his body is so much better than Lee Do probably ever could. Biting his lower lip, he's trying to hold back the lewd noises that threaten to spill out of his mouth, his back arching off the bed like a bowstring being pulled.

The younger raises Lee Do's leg and hooks the knee on his shoulder, his teeth and tongue grazing the skin on his thigh as he sets an even faster pace with his hand—this time, he angles it better.

Those fingers flex, still buried inside him, thrusting into Lee Do's wet, tight entrance with reckless abandon. Moon Baek doesn't settle for a rhythm, he keeps changing how fast he's moving. Everything feels hot—too hot, his nerves burning every time those calloused pads ram into his prostate. Lee Do thinks he's going to lose his mind if Moon Baek stops now.

"Moon Baek, nghhh… ah! P-please," he tilts his head back. It feels like Moon Baek has stolen the air from his lungs he can't even form a full sentence.

"What is it, love?" The older whines when Moon Baek bites the skin on his thigh so hard that Lee Do's sure it's going to leave a nasty mark on the following day.

"Touch me. Please," he pleads.

The grin that surfaces on Moon Baek's face is so wide it almost looks scary. It's like he's beyond ecstatic from seeing Lee Do finally beg for him.

But the next word that comes out of his mouth is, "No," he kisses his supple thigh. "I wanna make you cum with just my fingers only."

And Lee Do wants to curse the man, really, for denying his orgasm twice in a row. But his mouth is betraying him, spilling out garbled noises when Moon Baek continues to move his digits in circles, massaging his insides in maddening touch. His cock is like a faucet at this point, constantly twitching and dripping clear fluids onto his stomach with every press and pull of Moon Baek's fingers.

The slick sound from down there along with Lee Do's gasps and the rustling of the bed sheets is like a cacophony in his room. Every rub Moon Baek does to his prostate, another sob Lee Do fails trying to swallow. It feels even more intense now as the younger fucks him harder and faster with only his fingers, his body clenching tightly around them and his muscles are impossibly tense.

The continuous shocks of pleasure consume him as Moon Baek keeps moving his fingers in volatile and uneven thrusts. Lee Do is close—so close. He shudders harshly beneath him, his cock pulsating, bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. And soon enough, a broken moan spills out of his mouth as he shoots his load in intense gushes, soiling his stomach and chest in white.

Lee Do takes a moment to regain his breath, barely capable of thinking about anything. A sigh escapes his lips when the younger pulls out his fingers all at once, the emptiness making him quiver.

There's a beat of silence throughout the apartment, only the static low murmur from the turntable in the living room. With the stars flickering behind his eyelids and his consciousness still scattered, Lee Do gasps in surprise when he feels something warm and wet running along his abdomen. As soon as he opens his eyes, Lee Do chokes on his breath. The sight of Moon Baek licking clean every single drop of his fluid greets him.

Moon Baek holds his eye contact with the older as he drags his hot appendage over Lee Do's stomach, lapping eagerly at his spend until nothing remains. Lee Do exhales, barely containing a low groan from his mouth from seeing how utterly depraved Moon Baek looks right now. His cock twitches in interest even though he's still tingling from the last orgasm.

Moon Baek keeps trailing wet kisses all across his body, from the flat of his stomach to his chest. He takes Lee Do's nipple into his mouth, playfully biting and sucking the nub before releasing it with a loud pop. The older whines, fist tugging at Moon Baek's hair, unsure if he's pulling him closer or pushing him away.

"You're so sensitive, Do-yah." He smirks into his skin before leaning further to capture his lips in another open-mouthed kiss. Lee Do whimpers into his mouth when he picks up the taste of himself on the younger's tongue and the corners of his lips. "Can you continue?" Moon Baek whispers next to his ear when their kiss parts, his husky voice sending goosebumps all over his skin.

And he can still feel it, how hard Moon Baek is against his thigh. The thought of letting himself once again do something obscene with the younger makes his cheeks and ears warm, but he can't deny that he's still raring to go.

"Yes," he answers quietly.

Moon Baek manhandles him easily, turning him over so that his face is down and pulling the older by the knees until his hips are raised in the air. There's a ripping sound from behind and the sound of lube being squeezed out.

"You're red all over, Officer Lee," he grunts hearing the nickname again, but makes no retort against it. Moon Baek traces his clean fingers from his nape, down to his arching back, and ends on his bottom. He gives it a firm squeeze before slapping it so hard it leaves his skin stings. A surprised yelp escapes from the older. "So cute."

Moon Baek shifts and rolls his hips, grinding the cleft between his cheeks with his achingly hot flesh. He's sliding it up and down in slow, drawing a gasp from the older. Lee Do might not be as big or thick as Moon Baek, but he's nowhere near small. And feeling how big Moon Baek's cock is against his skin, his heartbeat is picking up its rate just by imagining Moon Baek fitting that inside him.

Lee Do can feel himself fully harden, cock throbbing, precum making a mess on his sheets. And when the younger finally slides in—pausing at the head first before slipping deeper, Lee Do sucks the air sharply because nothing, and he means nothing, can ever prepare him for the thickness of Moon Baek's girth. Not even those three fingers that were stretching him just a couple of minutes ago.

He shuts his eyes, his brain short-circuiting, and Moon Baek groans under his breath as he sinks himself even further into Lee Do's welcoming heat. The younger's grip on his hip firms as he continues to stretch his walls, his breathing heavy against Lee Do's shoulder. He pulls back ever so slightly only to thrust again, lodging himself past that fluttering ring. Gasping sobs leave Lee Do's mouth with every new inch being plunged. Lee Do's knees and hands are trembling from the pain, trying so hard not to dip lower onto the bed, and the younger has to snake his arm around his waist to keep him in place.

Soon enough, he fully sheathes himself to the hilt. His hole feels hot and swollen from the stretch, sweat covering his back, and he's drooling on his pillowcase. Moon Baek peppers kisses all across the places he can reach—his nape, his shoulders, his dark hair. With his thumb rubbing small circles on his skin, he's whispering to Lee Do that he's taking him so well and all kinds of praises about how pretty Lee Do is. He's patiently waiting for the older to adjust to his size before he moves.

When Lee Do thinks it doesn't hurt anymore—or it still does, but the pain feels good, somehow—he tells Moon Baek to move. The younger pulls back his cock only to press again, splitting him open with every thrust. It feels so hot, so wet, lube dripping from his entrance down to his thighs. Moon Baek grunts hungrily behind him, his cock pulsating inside him.

"Oh, f-fuck, you're so tight," he shudders, increasing his pace when he hears Lee Do moan in between his gasps.

Soon, Moon Baek picks up the pace. Lee Do's hips are pushed further against the bed, his thighs flexing wider with each movement. The tip of Lee Do's cock is practically humping the damp sheets from how hard Moon Baek is thrusting into him, waves of violent heat drowning him like a riptide. The officer closes his eyes tightly, senses collapsing with pleasure, mouth hanging open as drawled out voices escape him. But everything goes unrecognizable when all he can focus on is how deep Moon Baek's cock is grinding him, molding his walls to his shape and size.

"Ngh! Ha… M-Moon Baek-ah, slow down," Lee Do pleads. His toes curl and he arches at each tender stroke. "You're gonna… make me– a-ah!"

The length inside him hits his sensitive prostate over and over again he starts seeing stars behind his eyelids. His elbows can't support his upper body anymore, causing him to slump onto the bed, fingers clenching the pillow so tight to ground him. Moon Baek keeps his pace, his heavy balls hitting Lee Do's taint every time he rolls those unforgiving hips eagerly. The grip on his waist is gonna leave a bruise as the morning comes, Lee Do's sure, but he doesn't have the voice to tell him to slow down. Not when his own heartbeat is competing with Moon Baek's hoarse breathing and the euphoria leaves his skin tingling and his vision unfocused.

"So good…" Moon Baek moans, thrusting with enough force to slightly rock the bed. "You're so good for me, Lee Do."

The younger drags his hand across his abs to his chest, fondling the muscle with fervor. Lee Do wants to swat his hand away because the stimulation is too much. But Moon Baek doesn't care either way, he pinches his nipple, rolling it between his thumb and pointer, pulling on it until the skin is red.

"Moon Baek, I– Mmh!" he whimpers, feeling Moon Baek's cock plunging so deep in his gut, sending a strained ecstasy through him. "I'm c-close."

Moon Baek draws back and shoves back in hard, hips flush against him, and Lee Do's legs visibly tremble when the man's hips lurch forward. It is so good he's almost crying out at the pleasure.

"Come on my cock, baby."

With a broken gasp, Lee Do does, spilling his thick liquid onto the sheets.

A surge of bliss hits him harder than he thinks, body quivering with an orgasm that steals his breath away. The sensation of Moon Baek's hot, pulsating cock in him is too overpowering to let him think. He can hear the younger is saying something, but none of the words make any sense, drowned out by the slick sound, their erratic moans, and the loud smacking of their skin reverberating in the night. Lee Do is all wet, the sheets wet beneath him and his semen still spurting as the younger keeps fucking into his sweet heat at a brutal pace.

"Wait! Moon Baek-ah, uh—" he begs, voice surges high and drags low under the force of his orgasm. His head is floating and his body faltering, heaving forward as the younger carves his insides ruthlessly. "I'm still sensitive."

"Just a bit more, sweet thing."

Lee Do gasps and opens his eyes when he feels Moon Baek slipping out without warning. His inside is hot and tingling, ring clenching down at the emptiness.

"W-wha—" he's heaving out, blinking quickly, almost missing the fullness in him despite being overwhelmed.

"I wanna see you," Moon Baek replies, hands guiding Lee Do to lie on his back.

Lee Do gulps, the skin on his face and neck getting even warmer at how debauched the younger looks right now. Moon Baek lifts the older's legs and hooks them on his shoulders. The heated head of his cock rubs against his entrance, and once again, he thrusts into that tight heat with fervor.

Neither him or Moon Baek have the patience to start slowly. The younger fucks Lee Do's ass, fingers sinking into bruises on his thighs. His cock is pulsing hungrily inside him, putting a tautness on every drag, and a sudden pressure at the bottom of every grind. He's chanting Lee Do's name again and again like a prayer, desperation and hunger cracking his voice.

Lee Do groans underneath him, breath catching on his throat every time the younger plunders his depth with that thickness. Hot tears blur his vision as he feels his swollen cock aching with need, uncaring of the soreness on every part of his body each time his muscles spasm. He tangles his fingers in Moon Baek's hair, causing the younger to hiss when he slightly pulls it. But Moon Baek doesn't relent, if anything, it spurs him on. Moon Baek snaps his hips right back into Lee Do in a sharp, deep thrust, almost folding his body in half with how rough he rocks.

The officer claws at his back as the mounting feverish pleasure drowns him, nails probably leaving more angry red marks on that tattooed back. He gasps out barely coherent sentences about how he's asking for something—for more, for less, for mercy, Lee Do isn't sure himself. But the way Moon Baek grunts and bites his neck hard, Lee Do knows he's also close.

"Moon Baek-ah, please, mmh—!" he pleads. Wet tears flow from his eyes, painting new streaks down his cheeks and into his ears, onto the fabric of his pillow and soaking it. Moon Baek complies, fucking into him roughly, skin slapping against him with every sharp thrust, sending electric jolts to his spine.

"Eyes on me, angel." Moon Baek rasps, fingers marking the dips of Lee Do's waist as he tightens his grip to a point that it's painful.

It makes Lee Do jolt in ache and pleasure. As he opens his eyes, his gaze falls straight to the dark and piercing set of browns. Lee Do fumbles, his legs pressing the taller impossibly closer against his body, barely stopping a moan from the overwhelming sensation. Moon Baek once again gravitates down Lee Do's neck, practically folding his body in half in the process. He sucks the skin on the crook of his neck hard between bites and the unforgiving pace of his hips. Then, at the very next moment, he melts into a sobbing mess as the younger splays his wide palm across his lower stomach, pressing it, and Lee Do can feel how far up Moon Baek is in him.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well." Moon Baek gasps, marveling at each drag and grind of his cock in Lee Do's tight heat.

Soon enough, Lee Do feels his orgasm building again, trembling coils squeezing tightly in his groin, his breath catches. The final stroke claps piercingly through the room, bed rattling and hitting the wall behind them. But everything sounds like muffled noises to him—Moon Baek's rapturous moan, his jagged breathing, and his own drumming heartbeat in his ears. Creamy liquid pleasure is coating his chest, mixing along with his sweat. The look on Moon Baek's face when he comes with a guttural moan and slightly trembling as he empties himself will be forever etched in Lee Do's brain.

Lee Do emits a great shuddering sigh as the younger releases the grip on his body and pulls his softening cock out of his abused hole. He lets his legs fall to the bed. Moon Baek relaxes his body, at last, though he's still hovering above him, leaving soft kisses on the crown of his head and temple.

There's a silence that falls between them, only their labored breaths filling the air. He blinks, trying to focus his gaze on Moon Baek. Beneath the light of a fluorescent moon in his room, from this angle, Moon Baek looks like he's growing a halo. His tanned skin is rosy and shiny from the sweat, and his eyes are closed, unaware of Lee Do's stare. Lee Do's heart tightens in his chest once more.

What a beautiful sight.

He runs his fingers along his cheek then down to the surgical scar on his torso, feeling the uneven bumps on his skin while his eyes map out every tattoo the man has on his body. When he flicks his gaze back up, his eyes meet with Moon Baek's who has been watching him silently.

"I love you, Lee Do."

The older hums.

Throughout his life, Lee Do's idea of love kept shifting repeatedly. It was love when he was seven, when he saw his family sitting in the front row before the school play began. He can't quite remember what his role was, whether he was a tree or a townsperson. But he still vividly remembers his little brother waving and smiling at him as their eyes met.

It was also love back then when he was ten, when Mr. Cho took him in after he'd lost all of his family members in a tragedy, treating him like his own son, unchanging even now. And with Seyoung who is still the spoiled, nagging little sister she's always been.

Then, somewhere along his thirty-seven, too, when the universe he'd well-constructed into his own worldview suddenly had sent him Moon Baek—someone who, for reasons he can't quite grasp, unsettled every foundation he had built, swayed him from his rationality when Lee Do's very bane of existence depends on it above anything else.

However, the thing he has for Moon Baek is not love. Not even close. Or at least, not the kind he's ever understood. It's definitely not something he feels toward his late family, nor toward Mr. Cho or Seyoung.

But the kind of love he's read about in the romance novels also doesn't accurately describe what Lee Do feels toward the younger—he can't imagine himself waking up next to Moon Baek every morning, wearing matching rings on their fingers. He never dreamed about spending the rest of his life, being loyal and deeply in love with him, or maybe coddling him on good days too.

Simply put, Lee Do never thought he is the kind of person who'd let himself be consumed by the thing as cliché and as reckless as love, like they described in the… well, love stories.

And along his teenage years, he'd also been learning that love doesn't essentially soften the blow of hardships and difficulties in life. He could be grateful and cherish Mr. Cho and Seyoung to limitless bits, yet he still ached for his parents and his brother's death even until today. He could be as compassionate and as righteous as he wanted in doing his job, but he still deeply mourned those lives he took away back in his mercenary days. Love might ease the pain, might take the sting out, but it doesn't necessarily turn him into being invulnerable to heartbreaks and sufferings in life.

But then again, before yesterday, Lee Do had never gotten the taste of sleeping with the weight and heat pressed so close to him. He never has laid himself bare and naked to the first person who has ever tugged his heart. Never thought Moon Baek's voice or even his smallest gestures could leave Lee Do heady-drunk with it. So what is it, then?

"At least say it back instead of just staring at me. Seriously," Moon Baek lightly scoffs, playful tone hiding behind those words. He grazes Lee Do's cheek with his thumb, and the older lets him, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his cheek heavily into Moon Baek's palm. "Or else I'm gonna assume you're truly, madly in love with me that even words can't fully express it."

He opens his eyes again, meeting Moon Baek's crinkly ones. His next inhale leaves him lightheaded. Lee Do doesn't know the answer to that. He's barely even familiar with the concept of love.

Lee Do, with thick callouses on both of his palms and on his trigger finger because of his bloody past. Lee Do, who believes he does not deserve happiness because he has killed more people than all of his fingers combined could count. Lee Do, who had thought he must be a living proof of calamity because he would only hurt everyone he touches.

So how can he answer if he's in love with Moon Baek when until now he doesn't quite get the idea of love?

But it has also still been startling, when he realizes Moon Baek easily slips past his all defenses. Maybe it's his pair of big brown eyes that are staring at him with so much curiosity and fondness, or maybe it's his equally rough hands that, surprisingly, have the capacity to hold him so tenderly and warmly, or maybe it's the way he kisses him until he feels the built-up stress leaves his body.

"You can't, though." Moon Baek adds.

Dipping lower, the man settles his lips on Lee Do's forehead before pressing their lips in a slow kiss. Lee Do only raises his eyebrows in response, but he doesn't pull away. He shuts his eyes, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, his hands roaming the younger's broad back. And it all feels right.

He used to think being with Moon Baek feels like he's walking on a tightrope sixty meters off the ground with all of his senses dulled. And Lee Do keeps asking himself if this is okay—should he try to walk the tightrope or should he let himself free fall? But it seems like Moon Baek knows Lee Do is hesitant, with every look Lee Do gave him, with every word lost in the stretched silence between them. He knows. Because that's why he said it, right? That he'd catch him if he fell.

So, if this is love, if letting Moon Baek wandering around in his apartment as if Lee Do had neatly prepared this place only for the two of them, if letting Moon Baek sleep next to him tonight and maybe also every following night that's yet to come, enveloping Lee Do in a warmth he's barely familiar with but it still feels like home somehow. If this is what it means to love, then maybe, yes, Lee Do knows what and how it feels to be in love.

Or maybe he doesn't really have a clue what love is, but it's something unexpected, raw, and warm at the same time. And if Lee Do can't fathom love the way he wants to, then he just has to gather this room and everything it shelters into the folds of his mind to symbolize his idea of love. The dark painted walls, the lack of personal items on his desk, the light pooling across the floor, the Moon that's looming over him, watching Lee Do in silence as if he really likes him as he is. He's letting this moment fill the crevice of his chest, so that one day, if someone asks him something about love, Lee Do would close his eyes and remember this day he spent with Moon Baek.

Though Lee Do realizes, if he says any of these out loud, he would sound so embarrassing and awfully lovesick. So Lee Do only scoffs once they part, letting a small smile creep up on the corners of his mouth.

"Why do you laugh?"

"Hm?" Lee Do can almost see the sparks in Moon Baek's eyes. "Nothing. I just find it ridiculous, for you to dictate to me like that."

"But I'm serious. You can't be the one who loves more in this relationship. Not as long as I live." Moon Baek presses, a pout adorning his lips, a clear notion that he's slightly annoyed.

This time, a faint laughter bubbles from his chest. Hitting Moon Baek's shoulder lightly, he voices, "Stop being so sappy. We should clean up."

But Moon Baek does the opposite by falling to his side, body lax and eyes closed. "Gimme ten. I'm tired," he states curtly. With his stretched arms, he pulls Lee Do into his embrace. Their bodies are sticky, the air still smells like sex, and Lee Do has to change his bedding, but he couldn't care less. At least not in this particular moment. He turns around and scoots even closer, his hand and cheek already finding their place against Moon Baek's chest, listening to the slow thumping of his heart. "Or, you could carry me to the bathroom and clean us up."

"How spoiled, Moon Baek-ah," he responses, but there's no bite behind his words.

The younger chuckles, his voice reverberates from his ear, to his head, down to his spine. Moon Baek's skin is warm, but it's not as warm as the blood that now colors Lee Do's cheeks in dusty rose.

"You know you'd do it for me."

Lee Do starts his day by shivering all over his skin. The blanket that was draping his body at night, now only covers his waist down to his calves. The morning light barely peeks from behind the blinds and Lee Do has to squint his eyes to look at the time on his too-bright phone screen. It's not even six yet. With a frown and bleary eyes, he sits up, noticing Moon Baek's spot next to him is empty and the sheets are no longer warm.

His throat is parched from dehydration, every inch of his body is sore and Lee Do doesn't need to walk up to the standing mirror in the corner of his room to know his skin is littered with bite marks and bruises.

Stumbling into the kitchen, he finds Moon Baek standing by the window. His eyes are empty, staring blankly at the city landscape in the early daylight. It's disorienting, still, to see Moon Baek at his place, breathing the same air as him, as if this is where he should be, where he belongs.

Lee Do is not the type of person who'd let anyone step into his organized space, let alone leave a mess. But there's a red stain from the night before on the kitchen counter he forgot to wipe from when Moon Baek spilled his pomegranate juice, an empty medication packaging lying on the coffee table along with an empty glass, and a new freebie magnet from their grocery errand Lee Do wanted to throw away but now ended up on his refrigerator just because Moon Baek had insisted so. Lee Do never believed his life had room for someone else, but then came Moon Baek, with his loud laughter, his callous banter, and the way he misplaces things in Lee Do's apartment, and it all starts to feel like it's proof that something living has entered Lee Do's life. Against every instinct he's ever had, Moon Baek makes him want to build a home inside the walls of his heart.

"You're up early today."

Moon Baek is too preoccupied by his own thoughts to notice him, slightly flinching when Lee Do hugs him from behind, his chin resting against the younger's shoulder. The taller quickly looks at him, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times as if he wants to say something but loses his breath.

"Uh, yeah," Moon Baek finally answers, voice a bit stammering at the start. He touches Lee Do's hands on his waist, untangling them before he turns around and wrapping his arms around the older's shoulders. "Couldn't go back to sleep because of the headache."

And maybe Lee Do lets his worry bleed into his face, because the next thing Moon Baek does is squeeze his cheeks and say, "No need to worry your pretty little head for me. I took the medicine already."

There's no way Lee Do would win in an argument like this with Moon Baek, so he relents, pulling away from the younger, "Fine. I'll make breakfast."

"Oh, actually, I wanted to make breakfast for you. I just didn't expect you're gonna be up before six."

"It's okay, I can—"

"No, no. Yesterday you said I can cook for breakfast next time," the taller stops him from stepping closer to the kitchen. "Let Moon Baeki handle this," Lee Do's eyebrows crinkle at the childish nickname that's made a comeback. Moon Baek adds, "Trust me, I make great pancakes!"

Lee Do looks at him questioningly. "You're not gonna burn my kitchen down, right?"

Now, it's Moon Baek who gapes at the older. "You surely have so little faith in me, huh…"

He sighs, feeling bad for Moon Baek, "Fine, go ahead. I'll be waiting here." Lee Do's hand is picking up the novel on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch.

So Moon Baek starts to work in the kitchen, laying out all the ingredients on the counter before mixing the batter. From time to time, Lee Do would raise his gaze from the book to Moon Baek whose back is facing him. Sometimes Moon Baek would hum a melody of a song he's never heard before, the next second he's snacking on the banana he had thinly sliced. With the sound of him flipping the pancake, and the rustling of the page being turned, he lets his shoulders relax.

It takes another fifteen minutes for Moon Baek to finish the plating and serve them on the dining table. With a far too wide grin, he chimes, "Ta-da! It's done, let's eat!"

Lee Do slips in a bookmark between those pages and closes the book before making his way toward the younger. He looks at the pancakes that are stacked so high on both plates and then at Moon Baek. It's not like Lee Do wants to tell him he's not going to finish all of it, but the smile on Moon Baek's face falters for a second.

"What? Don't tell me you're allergic to blueberries," his eyes flicker at the blueberries in the pancake.

"I wouldn't buy blueberries if I'm allergic to them," he simply replies. Though, again, it wasn't Lee Do who tossed a pack of blueberries into the cart when they were doing grocery shopping, but he's not going into the details. What he was trying to convey was that he didn't expect Moon Baek can really make something edible-looking without having to burn his entire kitchen down, let alone beautifully plating the pancake. This exceeds his expectations, and Lee Do is impressed, to say the least. He takes a seat across the taller, grabbing a fork, and says, "Thanks for the food."

He drinks the cold lemon juice Moon Baek had poured for him, face grimacing at how overly bitter and sour it tastes on his empty stomach, but then it quickly dissolves once he eats the pancake. His eyebrows raised as he shoves another cut of pancake into his mouth.

"How is it?" Moon Baek tilts his head, waiting for his approval. "Good, right?"

Lee Do agrees. The pancake does taste good. It's a mixture of sweet and slightly tart from the mashed blueberries. It would've been better if Moon Baek had drizzled some honey on top of the piles, but he ran out of honey and didn't buy it again. So Lee Do nods at the question, receiving a lopsided smile from the younger as if he's so pleased and proud of himself for impressing Lee Do with his cooking skill.

The second time he gulps down the juice, it doesn't get better, it still tastes as bitter and as sour as the first time he drank it. Lee Do doesn't know why Moon Baek chose juice instead of black coffee in the morning, but he's not going to complain. And this, Lee Do learns to anticipate when he raises his face, the younger is staring at him intently all while chewing his food.

"What?" he mutters. There's a dizzy sensation he's feeling when he blinks up at Moon Baek who's leaning closer, unsure why his eyelids start to feel heavy.

"You see, I woke up this morning with a terrible headache, and everything came back to me." Moon Baek starts, his hand trailing Lee Do's nape then brushing his short bangs to the side. He's sweating. "I don't understand why you lied to me, Lee Do."

Again, there's a throbbing pain in the back of his skull, like someone's pounding a sledgehammer and try to crack his head open. He slightly jerks away from the touch when he realizes he's been drugged, but his body feels sluggish and he loses his coordination. His hand limply falls to his side when he tries to stab Moon Baek with the fork he's holding. The sound of metal clattering on the linoleum floor sounds awfully piercing in his ear.

"Was it fun, to play around while I was being clueless?"

"You… Fuck, Moon Baek, it's nothing like that." His vision is getting more and more blurry he barely recognizes Moon Baek's expression.

Lee Do wants to say a lot of things. That he planned to tell Moon Baek the truth someday, that he never meant to lie, or that, in fact, it wasn't all a lie—his feelings, it was real. It is real. But he can't, it feels like there's so much sand filling his mouth. Heavy. Scratchy.

"Forget it. I don't wanna hear anything from you."

Moon Baek rises from his seat, inching closer to the older, staring down at him with so much indifference it makes Lee Do feel powerless. Lee Do has completely lost his balance, crashing to the floor the moment Moon Baek stands next to him, gasping because something feels like it's blocking his airway.

He knew something had changed in Moon Baek. It's like he's seeing a completely different person now. There's no longer fondness pouring from his eyes, his voice sounds detached and cold when he talks to him, he no longer smiles. His Moon Baek is far from this person. His Moon Baek is sweet and a bit clumsy but he's gentle and Lee Do never gets tired of watching him. But maybe this is where the world reminds him, that that Moon Baek, too, was never his to begin with.

Everything is spinning in his peripheral and the words coming out of Moon Baek's mouth sound muffled and unrecognizable. He's talking about lies, betrayals, and feelings of disgust. Yet nothing makes sense when his limbs and brain are under exertion. There's this inexplicable urge to reach Moon Baek, to hug his legs, to stop him from leaving—because that's what's about to happen, right? Moon Baek is going to leave him. Lee Do is at the mouth of his own doom, and yet he's too unsteady to grasp at something that might prevent him from getting pulled by the force, to help himself.

"No, please don't go yet, I'm not done loving you," he pleads, not sure if he voices it out or he's just shouting into the void in his head. But it seems like it's the latter because Moon Baek spares him no glance. Something in his chest burns, and Lee Do doesn't know—or doesn't care enough—to determine if it's because of the drugs or the aftereffect of him tearing off his own heart and giving it to someone who, in reality, does not care about him. He barely grasps a semblance of consciousness as he watches the younger walking away, leaving him sprawling on the cold floor without any sign of returning.

The last thing he hears before everything goes dark is, "Farewell, Lee Do."

Three days after Moon Baek left him, he heard there was a commotion several kilometers away from Gangnam. They said it was a group of college students who were brawling against each other because of a sports match. But the ruckus didn't last long, for a man suddenly came and shot them all with an airsoft gun he stole from a shooting cafe. According to the witnesses, the man wore a gray hoodie, stature taller than most, and he looked like he was having fun while fighting them all.

"We have several recorded videos from the bystanders," Captain Cho starts in his call, retelling Lee Do what happened for the past few days in the office since Lee Do's been busy with his investigation on Gong Seokho. Captain Cho sucks his breath before he adds his sentence. "And in one of the videos, they caught the moment when that person said his name. His name is—"

"Moon Baek," he finished.

"Oh, how did you know?"

Lee Do pretends he didn't hear Mr. Cho. It's easier for him to ignore the spreading pain in his chest if he doesn't answer that question, he just tells Mr. Cho to proceed with the story. But it still hurts either way, and Lee Do is glad they're talking over the phone and not in person because he doesn't want Mr. Cho to look at him in this state, red-rimmed eyes and sleepless. It feels like he's chucked into the time machine and sent to thirty years ago when he was just a little kid who could only cry and rub his eyes raw in Mr. Cho's tight embrace.

Lee Do thought he was never going to feel helpless again now that he's an adult. But looking around, it seems like sadness has been quietly piling up in every corner of his life. It's in every bite mark and every bruise that have yet to heal on his skin, three packs of strawberry yogurts that are still untouched in his refrigerator, his black shirt that's now stretched around the shoulders, and the extra toothbrush that'd lost its owner in his bathroom.

Of all the things his late father had tried to teach him, only one has clung to him through the years—that everything in this world demands a Price. But Lee Do had been too young then, too dumb to comprehend the meaning of those words. And it wasn't until he hit his twenty, that he began to understand his father's lesson. His unparalleled knowledge about weaponry and skills comes with the Price of his grueling days in the Middle East.

There was also a time, when someone reached out to stop him from his blinding rage. Mr. Cho, who saw him shaking with a gun in his small hands, had taken that moment and turned it into mercy. He didn't let Lee Do pull the trigger. Instead, he showed him another way to survive, another way to see the world. From him, Lee Do learned that revenge wasn't worth the destruction it demanded, that kindness could exist even in the ruins of a life. But he also knew, even then, that such mercy came at a cost. Because to learn compassion, he first had to lose everything. That, too, was the Price.

But perhaps this explanation doesn't apply to everything. Because how could the price of lying be this cruel? Lee Do believes the price of his lying should not be equal to parting, loving Moon Baek, and all those endless nights he spends tending his heart. The Price is too expensive, far beyond what his small deceit could ever warrant. So he wonders, shouldn't the universe, in its infinite fairness, turn back time and return Moon Baek back to his arms to repay all the time that piles on top of his love?

Lee Do forgets, that sometimes, the universe is not built to grant wishes. It doesn't care for timing, or fairness, or the small desperate prayers whispered into the night sky. It simply takes and gives as it pleases, and the world keeps spinning without mercy.

He saw Moon Baek again, just when he had finally accepted his defeat, convinced he had to let him go. And for a moment, Lee Do believed it was a sign, that maybe the world had bent in his favor. That love, after all its delays and detours, had found its way back into his embrace.

But the universe doesn't bargain, it turns out. It doesn't wait for people to be ready. Because just before he could reach Moon Baek within his grasp, the world pulled Moon Baek away from him again, and this time, Lee Do doesn't know if there will ever be another day when Moon Baek opens his eyes.

To think he's hoping he'll see that day someday is farcical. They did not have a great story, nothing worthy of celebration should Moon Baek ever rise from his long and deep sleep. After all, they're only two people whose red strings of fate happened to tangle for a moment before slipping loose. And that's that.

Ironically, even after all that ruin, it is impossible to resent Moon Baek, even if Lee Do wants to try. Because every night, he'd lie awake in the dead of the night, thinking that he misses Moon Baek—like the sun misses the moon—cursed to exist in opposite skies, always arriving just as the other disappears, always present only long enough to be mourned again.

So every Tuesday and Friday, once his shift ends, he stops by the little bakery down the street and buys the same anpan he has been buying for the last few days, before making his way to the hospital. He spends his entire evening there, sometimes reading a book while listening to the beeping monotonous sound from the heart monitor in the background, sometimes just simply watching the fragile rise and fall of the man's chest who is lying on the hospital bed with so much equipment attached to his body.

It's almost paradoxical, to see Moon Baek who used to be so full of life, now having one foot dipped in the realm of the Dead. His body is withering, his cheeks have sunken, his hands are more bony, Lee Do can even trace the protruding veins from the knuckles of his fingers to his forearms easily.

By the end of the first week, one of the nurses recognizes him by name. She tries to keep things light while checking on Moon Baek's vitals, but Lee Do doesn't have the strength to pretend anymore. He answers her mundane questions politely but faintly—almost unemotional, leaving her to her work while his eyes never leave the bed.

He's blaming all his indifference on himself. The piles of dead bodies under his feet keep reminding him that no matter how hard he deceives the world by being empathetic, it won't bury them for good. His sins are still there, ready to greet him at the gate of hell once he runs out of time. And with Moon Baek lying unconscious in front of him, he wonders if the younger's also going to greet him and throw him to the deep end of it.

☾

In the second week, he gets a call when he's at work. The nurse's voice is careful and practiced, unlike the racing heartbeat in his chest when he saw the caller ID. She says they found signs of an infection in his lungs in his morning tests today. The doctor suspects it's pneumonia.

"Then… what—" Lee Do can't even finish his sentence, voice stuck in his throat.

"We've already started stronger antibiotics on Moon Baek-ssi and increased his oxygen support. The doctor will run further tests to make sure it hasn't spread."

He swallows, "Is he… gonna be alright?"

There's a soft pause there. "For someone in his weakened state, we have to be very careful. But he's being treated immediately."

As soon as his shift ends, he's on his motorcycle, cutting through traffic to the hospital.

☾

The calls begin to come more frequently. The first unexpected one is at midnight. They say the infection is spreading faster than they'd expected. The bacteria are resistant to the antibiotics, making it harder to treat on top of his worsened condition. But, as always, they assure him they're doing everything they can.

The very next day, another call while he's writing a report. This time, they inform him that Moon Baek's lungs are filled with so much liquid. They need to perform a drainage procedure. A surgery would be extremely risky, Moon Baek's body is too weak to survive the strain.

It's weird, Lee Do thinks, how it's Moon Baek's lungs that are filled with liquid but Lee Do is the one who feels like drowning.

☾

Lee Do visits more often. Every time the phone rings, he goes. The muted beeping of the machines, the hospital's distant announcement chimes, the dull sweetness of anpan on his tongue while he's sitting in the waiting room, all of it blurs into routine, and Lee Do hates himself for getting used to it.

Lee Do always hated hospitals, too many memories have bled into their walls. It reminds him of those days when he had to get treated for bullet injuries, the night he almost lost Mrs. Oh, the morning he woke to the news of Mr. Cho's death just a month ago.

But it's still better than going home, where the deafening silence consumes him. Within the four walls of his room, all that remains are fragments—the echo of Moon Baek's laughter in the back of his mind, the ghost of his touch against his spine, and the cruel memory of what could've been if only he'd realized sooner.

☾

By the end of the week, he received another call in the late afternoon. The nurse's tone is firm, no longer light. There's no pleasantries.

"Lee Do-ssi," she says gently, "We need to inform you that the infection has entered his bloodstream."

For a fleeting moment, he forgets how to breathe. His fingers are cold despite the summer.

She continues, "The doctor has confirmed the onset of sepsis. His blood pressure is unstable, and his body is showing signs of systemic inflammatory response. We've started vasopressors and fluids to stabilize him."

Lee Do opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He hates his brain for supplying hundreds of worse scenarios in his head.

"Please tell me there's a chance for him to survive," he chokes out.

"I'm… sorry, but the chances are slim. In cases like this, there's a risk of multi-organ failure. We're monitoring his kidney and liver functions closely," she adds, and that feels like he just took a punch to his gut. If his hand is trembling around the phone, Jeongu doesn't mention it. "He's in the ICU now. We wanted to let you know immediately, in case you wanna come."

Lee Do clears his throat, before responding. "I see. Thank you for telling me."

He heads there once he's done with his report. His body moves on its own, slipping through the hospital entrance, striding into the corridors he could navigate blindly by now. His footsteps are quick, taking him to the ICU room.

The hospital is busy that evening, with doctors running to the ER, nurses rushing carts, the sharp smell of antiseptic clinging to the air, and a distant wailing of an ambulance, bleeding through the automatic doors before they hiss shut again. Everything is deafening and muffled at the same time, and it doesn't stop until he sees Moon Baek. He needs to breathe.

He stops at the threshold, heart stuttering as he stands by the glass doors. Under the harsh fluorescent lights lies Moon Baek, cold to the world because of sedatives. The erratic hum of the ventilator and the sterile beep of a monitor climbing and dipping almost sound like an eerie music to his ears.

He's already intubated. With a tube taped to his mouth, Moon Baek's chest only rises in stiff and controlled motions because it's a machine doing it for him. It is as if Moon Baek's body doesn't resist getting pulled deeper into the land of death—can barely fight for his life. The thought leaves an acidic taste in his mouth.

For a moment, Lee Do's hands tremble. It's difficult to breathe. Just then, two nurses rush past him with an IV pump, muttering something about lactate levels. It took him longer to realize there were two other people in that room, a resident calling out vitals, and the other adjusting the ventilator settings. One of them mentions medical instructions Lee Do could barely catch, and he feels as if the world has tilted its axis, shifting the direction of gravity.

"Are you his closest of kin?" A nurse's voice drags him out of his distraction.

"Uh–"

"Could you please wait in the waiting room? The doctor wants to speak to you once he's finished checking his vitals."

Lee Do nods, slowly grasping his clarity back, walking away from the ICU glass door to the waiting area. A long sigh escapes from his lips once he sits down on a vacant chair.

If Lee Do was an honest man, he would probably go back to the ICU room and beg the medic team to save the man lying on the bed. Because the truth is, Lee Do is scared of death. He knows death is an unavoidable constant, one he has seen and faced throughout his life for so many times. But death also had encountered the people he loves far sooner than they should've. It took away his parents and his younger brother, it also stole Mr. Cho and Seyoung from him. None of them deserved such tragic endings. But they did, somehow. And Lee Do is left here, outliving all of them even though he was the one who painted his canvas black and red, while theirs were mostly clean.

"Officer Lee?"

A familiar voice cuts the train of his thoughts. He raises his face, surprised to see her. "Mrs. Oh," Lee Do stands on his feet, bowing politely to the old woman, who quickly ushers him to sit back down. She takes the empty seat next to him. "I didn't expect to meet you here."

"I just had my last physiotherapy appointment. They say everything works out nicely," she smiles warmly, and for a second, Lee Do's relieved. Mrs. Oh then continues, "What brought you here?"

"I'm visiting someone," Lee Do faces down, his voice coming out hoarse. He wanted to add that that someone's condition has worsened. That he might not be able to survive for another week. But his throat feels like it's burning, and his eyes sting. So Lee Do keeps it to himself.

"Who is?"

His next inhale lodges itself into the ache in his chest when he says, "Moon Baek."

Mrs. Oh gasps. From the reaction, Lee Do is sure she remembers who he's talking about. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Officer Lee."

"It's fine." It's not. Lee Do is a liar, and he will die a liar. He offers a tiny smile, not sure if it's for Mrs. Oh or to deceive himself. "He said don't pity him too much. He told me once he doesn't want anyone to feel sorry for him."

Lee Do doesn't know what kind of expression he has right there. Everything hurts. But the next thing he hears from Mrs. Oh is,

"Oh, dear, love got you, didn't it?"

It's a blur after that—or every following day afterwards. Lee Do buries himself in lots of workload, accepting every task, every field request, thinking that it might take his mind off Moon Baek. But his body betrays him, his legs restless under the desk, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of his phone inside his pocket, grasping on that sliver of hope that the doctor might give him some good news this time around.

Today is no different. The moment his shift ends, he's already moving, his hand closing around his motorcycle key before his mind even forms the thought of leaving.

"Lee Do-sunbae!" Jeongu calls, stepping out of the police vehicle, probably just finished his patrol round. "You going to the hospital again?"

"Yes."

He expects Jeongu's done with the small talk and he's raring to take another step to where he parked his motorcycle, that is until the younger blurts again, "I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but I've been wondering about this," A sheepish smile stretched across his face, and Lee Do tries so hard not to fidget in front of him. He needs to go to see Moon Baek now. "Why do you go to such lengths for him? He's a criminal, anyway. And I heard he cannot be saved."

For a moment, Lee Do does not answer. It would be easier if he said nothing, to let pretense protect him and leave Jeongu there to ponder his answer, or maybe he should scold Jeongu because the question is too presumptuous. But something inside him flinches in defiance.

"Yes, but he can be loved, still."

His alarm goes off at six, and while his body protests from the lack of rest he's been getting, Lee Do sits up in his bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor while he listens to the sound of the ticking clock and the low hum of the heater in his room. The wet trails that stain his cheeks along with the damp spot on his pillow cover tell Lee Do enough clues that he has dreamed something again, just like every so often. It's interesting that he never really remembers what kind of dream he must have had, but the feeling that he has lost something haunts him for some time after he wakes up.

Wiping the tears streaks on his face with the back of his hand, his legs bring him to the bathroom, skin shivering when the white tiles there are a lot colder against the soles of his feet. Lee Do takes a quick shower, washes his face, and shaves.

The world outside is pretty much still dead, and if Lee Do closes his eyes and listens, he can almost hear the rustling leaves from the trees and the wind that greets the windows. Lee Do puts on his best clothes, and before he heads down, he stares at the white envelope on his table, contemplating whether to bring it along with him or not. His next inhale feels constricted.

In the end, he takes the envelope.

Winter in Seoul shouldn't be pathetic. The sunrise should be beautiful, a technicolor of amber mixing with bright blue on the horizon along with whites from the thin cloud, the air crisp and clean, the kind that jolts you up in the morning. But this one's different. The sky is a tired gray, sunrise obscured by dark clouds. The air is heavy and damp. Even the snow on the roadside has slightly melted, turning its color into yellowish light brown because it lumps on muddy ground.

The whole ride is engulfed in silence save for the roaring of his engine in the empty dark street, each intersection another memory waiting to be ignored. The harsh cold of morning air in January slips past his visor helmet, almost causing the skin of his cheeks to sting. Lee Do tries to brush it off, some destinations don't need warmth to find them.

He rides through the streets without rush, as if he's afraid that arriving too soon might shatter the thin calm he built over time. The city is slowly waking, lights flickering from the windows of those tall buildings against a pale winter sky.

Lee Do has always disliked this part of the city. It is a big jumble of chaos and order, a restless tangle of triumph and decay, a beacon and demon. A place that is alive only because it refuses to die. It is as if the place has been punished by someone's absence. But maybe Lee Do is also a masochist, because he chose to stay in this city forevermore. There's no use in moving to another part of the country anyway, this city will haunt him in his sleep just like their deaths.

He thought he was prepared, building his courage up so high until it crumbled down at the last minute as he parked his motorcycle. The place is bare of visitors and Lee Do is grateful for that, it's giving him more space to himself. The soles of his feet are going numb as he makes his way down, Lee Do is not sure whether it's from the cold or the lack of rest that has been piling over the years that is now taking toll on him.

At the west-most section of the columbarium, his steps halt, eyes bore at the name plate there. And all of a sudden, it's difficult to breathe, the air tastes stale in his throat, and his eyes begin to water. He clenches his fists inside the pockets of his jacket, anything to stop him from breaking down there.

Moon Baek (93-11-01 – 25-07-17)

It's been seven winters, five months, and two weeks since he's gone, and this is the first time Lee Do visits him after the funeral.

Maybe Lee Do is a coward for that. But sorrow had stolen his years ever since his departure, grief had shaped the arch of his ribcage shallower, causing his breath shorter, harder. And every decision he made, every step he took to get to this point almost drove him lose his balance.

But even though he's been stalling for this moment for so long, it doesn't mean Lee Do has made peace with the sadness that etched deeply in his memories of Moon Baek. Lee Do doesn't have to keep Moon Baek's photograph in his wallet or have it framed on the nightstand by his bed, for the sight of Moon Baek is a thing Lee Do keeps orbiting every day and night, and he's sure it's not going to end anytime soon.

Now, with him standing in front of his ashes, this seems like a cruel joke to him, this closeness, equally absurd that in the biting cold January morning, Lee Do imagines him holding Moon Baek's head against his chest, his long torso drapes across his lap.

In the end, Lee Do can't decide which one broke him to tears first—the reality, or his imagination. Both hurt him all the same. Both will have him left behind when he's still very much in love, and Moon Baek will never wake up again to take responsibility for that.

Six years after Moon Baek left him, Lee Do had had to learn how to sleep in the cold, ice creeping under his skin and bones. No matter how thick his blanket is, he still shivers in his sleep, and he doesn't know if it's because of the absence of someone or if his blood has simply forgotten to regulate itself in his body to keep him warm.

It becomes harder for him to sleep every night as well. He would often find himself standing on the balcony in the dead of night, watching the city lights flicker like ghosts that do not belong to him. And Lee Do is left alone with his thoughts again.

On paper, it is depression. His therapist told him to let go of his past gradually, to forgive himself, perhaps find a new hobby. He also gave Lee Do sleeping medication, though, it doesn't work. It never did. Lee Do is still shaking in his sleep, and his pillowcase is still wet from the tears when he wakes up in the morning more often than not. It is as if grief has learned how to find him wherever he goes, both in reality or in his dreams.

But outside of paperwork, everyone in the office knows, even Mrs. Oh too, that Lee Do has been deeply mourning ever since they heard that Moon Baek, someone who smuggled thousands of guns and left anarchism as his legacy, was pronounced dead on a Thursday night. Some of his colleagues can't even begin to understand how a police officer like Lee Do could ever grieve someone like Moon Baek. To them, Moon Baek is nothing but a conman and a murderer. Unlike Lee Do who is admired and virtuous among others.

But perhaps grief doesn't care for moral logic, for it clings to affection and love, not righteousness.

And some time around last week, Mrs. Oh asked him—Lee Do isn't sure if it was out of curiosity or she finally cracked him underneath that thick facade. Her tone wasn't prying, just soft and gentle.

"Have you said everything you wanted to say to him back then, Officer Lee?"

The question stayed with him longer than he'd like to admit. It wasn't something he could shrug off. For a man who has seen countless of deaths, one might think loss would grow lighter with repetition, that grief would dull like an old blade along with his age. But it doesn't.

The answer is obvious. Lee Do is not a man of words. He never was. His emotions live in gestures, in his silence, the way he lingers in an empty funeral room save from the portrait and the flowers arrangement far too long. He has always kept them trapped in his head, where they stay unspoken and safe. But the longer he keeps them there, the louder they echo.

Lee Do didn't want to think about Mrs. Oh's question—was about to leave the question like a passing wind. But it followed him home, kept him awake at night. It haunted the space between his routines, the emptiness beside him on the bed, the faint trace of Moon Baek's voice that sometimes flickers in memory like a dying ember.

So that's why, when the city fell asleep, he stayed up at three in the morning, sleepless and wrecked, to write the letter in his hand now. As he wrote it, the paper trembled under his fingertips, the pen felt too heavy. It took him hours to write a few simple lines, because every word felt like tearing open a wound he spent years pretending had healed.

He takes a deep breath, quickly wiping the tears on his face before opening the letter and reading it aloud in front of him.

"To my dear Moon Baek,

Unbeknownst to you I tried to take this chance a long time ago. The message never reached you because I couldn't bring myself to send it. And honestly, I'm glad I didn't. Because since then, my feelings have significantly changed. They have intensified with every passing day.

For the past six years, it's been a life that's given me a deep understanding of letting go and a brokenness that's found a way to engrave itself in my life, because you left me, shattered me into scattered little pieces.

Moon Baek, my darling, I have never believed in love. But this piercing cold in my chest refuses any warmth if it's not from you. Even if I'm nearly frozen and my fingers are all blue and purple, I won't allow any heat to melt me if it's not you.

So maybe Mrs. Oh was right—love got me. It caught me by my ankles and dragged me down into my own delirium of you ever since.

I should've gotten used to the silence that seeped into the cracks of my apartment walls, but it feels jarring, still. This place is so lonely, Moon Baek. So lonely without you. I think I created more loss where I meant to give love.

At some point, I believed that loving you was an act of offering, that love was something that could fill the separation left between my understanding and your presence. I never anticipated that loving someone could also mean quietly undoing yourself in their absence. That devotion could also be a kind of erosion.

Hence, I wrote this letter to you—my first and last, because I have nothing left to give aside from the sorrow that is breathing inside my empty husk. I know it seems laughable because you're not even here anymore to read this, and I'm tearing my heart out just to pour my feelings onto this paper, and this action, too, appears to be futile.

But I want you to know that I love you so much, Moon Baek. Every time that I saw you, I still had so much to say, and yet I didn't. See, I was afraid of saying it. I'm a liar, if that's what you wanted me to say, and I get why you despised me so much.

The truth is, the day that you left, I wished you had stayed. I wish you had said that it was all a lie that you somehow orchestrated and then slipped yourself into the shortest amount of time I have ever experienced in my life. I wished you had said you'd never even loved me in the slightest, so that I could finally quell these feelings down and willingly let you go.

But you did not, did you?

You told me that you were disgusted by me, and that you were disappointed because I lack the capability to accept you wholly.

But what I have not heard is that you did not love me.

For the longest time, I thought what we had was just an illusion, or it was just a part of your grand plan. It was a fool of me for not realizing sooner that you, too, loved me and probably also hurt in the process of accepting that I didn't understand you. And I will forever regret that.

I want to turn back time and meet you way earlier than I should have. So I can hold you a little tighter, kiss your lips a bit softer, and be with you longer. I want to know everything about you, Moon Baek. Your favorite sad song, your comfort food, your most pleasant memory. I want to make sure you are understood and loved.

I know the universe wouldn't let me, the world doesn't work that way. But if there's the slightest chance of me going back in time; if there's a world where I could do it all over again, I would. Even if I could not change a single thing in it—for you, I would. And you don't have to be perfectly healed for me to choose to stay with you in that universe.

I'm exhausted, Moon Baek, but never of loving you. Today, I love you more than yesterday, and I miss you more than ever.

But despite all of that, loving you has also brought me an immense amount of ache. Each day it's just me trying so hard to stay afloat, stuffing my lungs with air despite the currents of my own feelings that are trying to drown me alive.

In one of the books Seyoung gave me, it is written that love is supposed to be easy. I have to disagree with that—if she was still here I knew she would've made me listen to her for an hour of why the book is true and I'm wrong.

But, I'm gonna stand my ground anyway, because love, as it turns out, is more torturous than one could ever imagine. Love had become utterly painful and unbearable to me because I couldn't protect you. Oh, my dearest Moon Baek, I loved you quietly, and now I must pay the Price by grieving you loudly.

You used to tell me I wasn't allowed to love you more than you loved me for as long as you lived. You said it like a promise, and I used to find you ridiculous for saying such nonsensical thing. But now you're gone, and someone has to keep what's left of us alive. So I'll carry your share too, your love and mine, until my heart wears thin from the weight of both and my body decays.

I'll find you again one day, my love. But to get there, I'm gonna have to torture myself in this world that is full of atrocities and suffering. I'll crawl my way towards you with the help of an outstretched constellation of sadness. And I will sink deep into the sea of sorrow, waiting for the water to fill my lungs—just like it did to you back then—and I'll suffocate again. But that's nothing, for losing you has already killed me.

In your absence, Moon Baek, I'll head there blindly. And until I can kiss you again, I will continue to grieve you.

All my love,
Lee Do"

By the time he reaches the end of the letter, his tears have dried in uneven streaks along on his cheeks, leaving behind the faint sting of salt against the cold winter air. His voice has maybe given out somewhere between the second and third paragraph, fraying under the weight of all the words he never got to say. Still, he forces himself to finish, because this, at least, he can do.

Silence settles in the place when he's done. It feels almost sacred, that he barely hears anything except his breathing. For a long while, he just stands there, eyes tracing the familiar curve of Moon Baek's name. His thumb brushes away the thin film of frost gathered on the surface.

Then, with shaky hands, he folds the papers again, slides them into the envelope, and clips it next to Moon Baek's name. There's a strange calm in the act, like laying down a burden that's been gnawing at his ribs for years.

His feelings are out there now, carried by the wind to wherever Moon Baek might be. Maybe they'll find him, and maybe they'll guide Lee Do's path too one day.

But for today, under the same gray sky, Lee Do lift his face and he will long for the Moon once again.