vixx: The Family Business
Title: The Family Business
Pairing: Leo/Hyuk
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8.6k
Warnings: blood, violence, age gap
Summary: Even under Sanghyuk's expensive clothes and newly chiseled features, Taekwoon knows something's wrong.
Sanghyuk never expected himself to be the type to fall in love with his eyes, laying sight on someone and becoming so entranced that they’re the one and only priority. He never expected to see a face so compelling that he now has to know the person underneath. He blinks, trying to make sure he’s seeing right, but the man is real; the man is beautiful. Sanghyuk’s in trouble.
Hongbin nudges him as the cars fly past on the busy street. “You okay?”
Sanghyuk blinks again, and real life seeps into his dreamlike state. He watches the man walk from his car into the high school but now with the roar of traffic in his ears. “Yeah.” But Sanghyuk needs a name to match the face. He can feel the pull in his heart. Ridiculous. Hongbin’s still staring at him, so he clears his throat and tears his eyes away from the school. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Hongbin follows him down the street, but Sanghyuk has his thoughts elsewhere. He thinks he needs a tutor.
----
Taekwoon ends a hectic day by walking quickly down hallways, weaving through waves of students and dialing Jaehwan’s number faster than he can pass the science department. He didn’t sleep well last night so there’s an ache between his shoulders, and his head hurts; this all is fodder for an excuse to not meet Jaehwan tonight. Taekwoon doesn’t feel like driving to Jaehwan’s house to just meet new people. Tomorrow will be a rough day anyway because he has bus duty. He needs as much sleep as he can get, and hopefully Jaehwan will understand that.
Jaehwan picks up after the first ring like he was expecting the call. “You’re not coming tonight.”
Taekwoon blinks and quickens his pace. “Right, but I was also going to say--”
“It’s something every time,” Jaehwan whines through the phone’s crackle. “You know one of these days I’ll just kidnap you, and that way you’ll have to come.”
Taekwoon sighs. He’s come out of the school now, walking to his car, and…. His footsteps slow down considerably as he sees that there’s a someone leaning on his car. He squints his eyes in the bright sun.
“Taekwoon?” Jaehwan asks, checking to make sure he’s there.
He doesn’t stop walking, and his stomach twists when he realizes that he knows this someone. “Hey, Jaehwan, I’m gonna call you back. Something’s come up.” Jaehwan starts to protest but Taekwoon ends the call anyway, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“I couldn’t remember when school ended,” the person says when Taekwoon draws close enough.
Taekwoon sucks in a breath, trying to mask his surprise. “Sanghyuk?”
Han Sanghyuk smiles, his old bleached blond hair gone into a dark and swept back style -- he’s all around a physically different person. Taekwoon remembers him being shorter than this, not so much leg, and there’s the issue of his face. He looks older, and that’s a bad thing.
Sanghyuk tilts his head, looking pleased by Taekwoon’s reaction. “Let’s go somewhere. My treat.”
Taekwoon somehow ends up in a pet store on the opposite side of town. Sanghyuk’s looking at the kittens, and Taekwoon’s looking at Sanghyuk. If he seems apprehensive to hanging out with a former student then that observation would be right. Their last session together went horribly wrong, and Taekwoon can’t get that out of his head; it’s been muted with time but now that he’s staring down at Sanghyuk’s back, the boy crouched over kittens, it’s begging for attention.
Sanghyuk of the now steals that attention. “Do you want a kitten?”
Taekwoon shakes his head. He remembers vast, deep conversations they’ve had about the pros and cons of owning cats although both are cat lovers. He may have let it slip more than once he wanted a kitten but not knowing if he’d be able to take care of one with his work schedule; Sanghyuk obviously remembers. Taekwoon wants to change the subject. “Where’s Hongbin?”
Sanghyuk’s hands clench even though his eyes smile. “Somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care. Hey, that’s a rhyme.”
Taekwoon decides Hongbin is a bad place to direct the conversation. Safer, maybe for Taekwoon, but there’s tension in that direction as well, and the last thing he wants to do is upset Sanghyuk. Again. Taekwoon clears his throat. “I should really be going home. I’ve had a long day--”
“Sure. We can go back to your house.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
Sanghyuk stands up and turns and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing black trousers, a long-sleeved white button up shirt, but no tie to finish off the professional look. He looks like he was all buttoned in at one point, but Sanghyuk’s rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and sunglasses tucked into the V of his shirt. He looks so different from the teenager Taekwoon used to tutor, who would wear over-sized foreign band shirts and skinny jeans and ask about cats and offer him lunch.
Three years hasn’t changed Taekwoon as much.
Sanghyuk keeps staring at Taekwoon, and he feels like he’s been put under a spotlight. Taekwoon can’t hold his gaze, Sanghyuk peering down at him, but he won’t be the first one to look away. The younger finally blinks and says, “Fine. I’ll get the cat and it’ll live at my house.” He turns away once more, cooing at a little black cat, and Taekwoon's not sure what has happened.
They get back into Taekwoon's car, and Sanghyuk has two cats. The all black one and an orange one with white paws. “They were litter mates,” Sanghyuk explains. “I couldn’t leave the other one.”
Taekwoon grips his steering wheel tighter. They’re still sitting in the parking lot, and he can’t wait to tell Jaehwan about this, about how a certain former student has reappeared and they both went to the pet store. “Do you have someone to pick you up?”
Sanghyuk blinks at him, tearing his eyes away from his box of kittens. “Huh?”
“Or,” Taekwoon mashes his face with his hands. Sanghyuk probably has his license by now -- what’s he thinking? “Where did you leave your car? Or however you got to the school; I’ll drop you off.”
“Can we go to your house first?” Sanghyuk says it with a slight pleading tone, and that makes Taekwoon’s ears perk up. “Please?”
“Since when are you this desperate to come over?” Taekwoon says it before he can stop himself, and he instantly regrets everything.
“Since forever. Please, hyung?”
Taekwoon’s on the way to his house before he can change his mind. Once there he sends Jaehwan a text, and he stuffs the phone into his pocket before he realizes Sanghyuk's been watching him. “Boyfriend?” There’s suspicion on Sanghyuk’s face, and Taekwoon orders him out of the car. “Just asking.”
Taekwoon slams his car door shut. “It’s just Jaehwan.” He doesn’t have to explain anything to Sanghyuk, but here he is. “I was letting him know that I wasn’t coming over tonight.”
Sanghyuk’s got the box of kittens in his arms and both walk up to the apartment complex. He follows in silence as Taekwoon climbs the stairs all the way up to his floor, but he protests when Taekwoon stops outside his door but won’t go inside.
“What’s this about, Sanghyuk?” Taekwoon’s leaning against his door with his back to it, and he’s aware of just how much taller the younger is than him now.
The kittens in the box mewl, but this time Sanghyuk’s paying no mind to them. “Can we just go inside?”
“If we do, will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t lie.”
Sanghyuk shifts the box and the mewls slip through the cardboard flaps. He looks down, noticing their distress, and sticks his hand back inside the box, petting the kittens and cooing soft words at them. Taekwoon frowns and opens his door.
Five minutes later, they’re seated on the kitchen floor, the kittens roaming around them. Maybe Sanghyuk hasn’t changed much at all, Taekwoon thinks. He has the same smile, the same laugh -- he uses both while playing with the kittens. “Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon directs at him. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Sanghyuk sits back on his heels, black slacks creasing. He’s close to Taekwoon, and Taekwoon keeps watching their distance, but Sanghyuk seems oblivious to it. “Nothing’s going on. Do I need an excuse to want to see you?”
Taekwoon’s face gets hot, and he buries it in his hands. He’s too tired for this. He loosens his tie and then runs his hands through his hair, taking it out of its neatly arranged state. “Sanghyuk, I don’t--”
Taekwoon’s chin is titled up, and Sanghyuk’s lips meet his quickly, urgently. Something’s wrong, Taekwoon knows, but what’s even more concerning is that this time Taekwoon doesn’t pull away. Their last kiss ended their tutoring sessions together, Taekwoon not coming back and Sanghyuk never begged for him to, but this…this is different.
Taekwoon finally pulls away a bit for breath and the oxygen gives him enough mental power to push Sanghyuk away. Not hard, not like he did those years ago, but gently. “Sanghyuk, no, I-- You need,” Taekwoon takes in another breath, “to talk to me.”
Sanghyuk’s still close enough for Taekwoon to smell -- expensive cologne and his own natural scent -- and Taekwoon just wants Sanghyuk to talk to him. He used to. Sanghyuk looks him in the eyes, and his eyes ask Taekwoon to not speak of anything else, pupils blown wide.
“Please,” Taekwoon staring to beg, but as the word escapes him, Sanghyuk stands up, straightening his shirt.
“I’ll be back. Later.” Sanghyuk walks to the door, his shoes squeaking on the floor, and says over his shoulder, “Watch out for strangers.” With that, Sanghyuk’s gone, and Taekwoon’s left sitting on his kitchen floor. His phone vibrates on the counter, probably Jaehwan, and when he gets up to answer it he realizes he has two kittens romping around his feet.
Taekwoon has kittens.
The kittens adjust faster than Taekwoon does. He buys food and little bowls for them, a placemat so said food doesn’t spill all over his floor (it still does), and he even starts thinking of names for them. He can’t keep calling them One and Two, but he doesn’t want to name Sanghyuk’s cats for him. He calls Sanghyuk before getting ready for work on the morning after, but the young man never picked up his phone.
Taekwoon leaves a message, strictly on business of the kittens. He doesn’t mention the kiss, or how he feels about it, or how he imagines Sanghyuk feels about it. He doesn’t want to think about how Sanghyuk feels, least of all how he does.
The kittens take up his life in the space of a week, and Taekwoon really hates Sanghyuk.
Speaking of.
“Isn’t that the kid who molested your lips that other time?” Jaehwan garbles the words around his spoonful of ice-cream. Both men are seated at Jaehwan’s kitchen counter, each with a pint of their favorite flavor, as Jaehwan listens to his friend’s woes.
“Yeah.”
Jaehwan makes a face. “He grew up?” More ice-cream goes into his mouth. “Poor kid. He finds you kissable. Very much so.”
Taekwoon doesn’t react to Jaehwan’s words. “He needs to come back and get his cats.”
“Good luck with that,” Jaehwan snorts.
Taekwoon stabs his ice-cream with his spoon. Repeatedly. “I just wanna know what’s wrong.” He bites his lip. “He seemed odd. I don’t know. Maybe his family--”
Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “This is exactly what happened last time. You got too involved with him, you wanted to get to know him, you felt bad for him, and he took it the wrong way. This kid is just very attached.”
Sanghyuk in fancy clothes, browsing a pet store, doesn’t seem too attached. Taekwoon letting Sanghyuk kiss him -- kissing Sanghyuk back -- seems too attached.
“You’re too nice,” Jaehwan goes on, waving his spoon around. “You let people get away with murder around you.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Taekwoon digs his spoon into his ice-cream, barely aware of it anymore. “He needs someone to reach out to him, I think. He really is nice, and he just needs a little structure.” Taekwoon finally takes a bite. It’s cold, but the sweetness lingers in his mouth long after he swallows.
Jaehwan’s watching him carefully, like Taekwoon might say that he’s kidding any second, but he doesn’t. Jaehwan gets a fraction more serious. “You can’t be his structure, Taekwoon.”
Taekwoon pretends that doesn’t sting something inside him. “That’s not what I’m saying.” But that almost sounds like a lie.
“What you just described,” Jaehwan goes on, “is a parent. He needs his parents. You’re not it.”
“Well, he needs someone.”
Jaehwan gives Taekwoon a look. “Does he?” His eyebrows are raised, and those eyes pierce Taekwoon like a territorial dog with its hackles standing straight up. “Or are you talking about yourself--”
Taekwoon kicks Jaehwan’s shin as he spins on the barstool toward him. “Don’t get jealous,” he mumbles.
“The boy’s kissed you twice; he’s a repeat offender. Number three is coming.”
Taekwoon’s insides melt to nothing at the statement. “And what makes you so sure? He won’t even come back to my apartment.”
“Do you want him to?”
Taekwoon puts his spoon down and says very seriously, “He left two cats at my house; I hope to god he’s coming back.”
“You’re not giving up the cats,” Jaehwan scoffs. “I’m not saying you do like him--” Jaehwan throws his hands up to halt Taekwoon's protests, “--or that you don’t, but can you seriously sit here, at my counter, in my home, eating my ice-cream--”
“I paid for mine.”
“--and tell me that you can see yourself in a relationship with this guy, this kid. Someone who’s been described to me as ‘needy’ and at times ‘stubborn.’”
“He’s grown up since then; maybe it’s different.”
Jaehwan’s mouth falls open, and his spoon slips through his fingers and to the floor. He retrieves his contaminated spoon and makes the trip to the sink, all while spluttering out half-responses. “You- you’re considering this?”
“I never said I was. And it’s been three years, Jaehwan; some people grow out of old habits and behaviors.”
“They also develop new ones.”
Taekwoon sighs. It’s obvious where Jaehwan’s going to stand on the Sanghyuk issue, and this is a little more upsetting than he first pictured. He knew Jaehwan was going to react this way -- Taekwoon can see why -- so why does he feel disappointed?
Taekwoon comes home that night to Sanghyuk sitting outside his apartment door. It’s not the return Taekwoon expected (he barely expected him to return at all), but he falls onto the floor beside Sanghyuk anyway.
“Hey,” Taekwoon says tentatively. Sanghyuk's staring at his own lap, fingers knitted together there, and his dark bangs are long, a curtain over his eyes. No gel today. He’s come dressed similar to the last time, like he’s important, a somebody, but here he is. Sitting outside Taekwoon’s door.
“I’m sorry,” Sanghyuk murmurs, leaving a lengthy pause between his and Taekwoon’s words. “I didn’t mean to.”
Taekwoon wonders if he means the kiss or the cats, because both seem like accidents. He doesn’t ask. “What are you doing here?”
Sanghyuk’s phone is in front of his crisscrossed legs, and it keeps lighting up and flashing with new notifications but no sound comes from it. It must be on silent, but that doesn’t stop the income of missed calls and messages. Taekwoon glances over and thinks he sees Hongbin’s name come up as an incoming call, but Sanghyuk just watches it come and go.
And come again. Because Hongbin keeps calling.
“I think Hongbin’s looking for you,” Taekwoon laughs a little, and Sanghyuk finally turns to him.
“How are the kitties?”
“Uh, fine. They’re inside--”
“Can I play with them?”
Taekwoon doesn’t know how he’s going to break it to Sanghyuk that he is the one who bought them, that they’re his, but he also doesn’t know what this means if they’ve stayed at Taekwoon’s house a week and Sanghyuk doesn’t seem to be here to take them home with him.
Taekwoon lets them into the apartment, and he pulls the black kitten out from under the couch, where it’s curled around one of the legs, and hands him off to Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk’s face lights up. Taekwoon looks away. “And the other one likes to sleep on my work.” He points to the orange one, who’s curled up on the kitchen table, on Taekwoon's papers to grade, and he snatches her up as well.
Sanghyuk’s expression brightens to an almost unmeasurable amount, much better than how he looked in the hallway, as he takes both into his arms and hugs them to his chest. He kisses their heads and then sets them down on the floor, more interested in seeing them play, and finds an old shoelace to entertain them with.
The evening is spent with Taekwoon grading papers at the kitchen table (a.k.a his desk), and Sanghyuk playing with the kittens as background noise. At some point, a time between the sun going down and the moon coming up, Taekwoon realizes the apartment’s gotten quiet. Very quiet. “Hey, Sanghyuk,” he calls as he’s halfway through a stack of Chinese vocabulary sheets. There’s no answer, and this prompts Taekwoon to view a heart-warming sight.
The young man’s asleep on his side, on the floor with his back to the couch, with a sleeping cat on his hip and at his chin. Taekwoon doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, but the time is getting close to much too late. Taekwoon gets up and walks over to the couch to wake Sanghyuk.
Taekwoon is nearly shaking Sanghyuk into a conscious state by the time the younger comes to, the kittens scared and long gone from their resting spots. “Hey, it’s getting late.” You can’t spend the night; you have to go home.
“That’s fine,” Sanghyuk yawns. His eyelids droop, and Taekwoon’s hands are on him to keep him from falling back asleep.
“I mean, do you need a ride home? How’d you get here?”
Sanghyuk’s expression turns petulant, and he jerks his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it, sighs, and rubs at his face before lurching into a sitting position. Taekwoon gets out of the way. Sanghyuk sits there for a moment, hair ruffled and eyes bleary, and Taekwoon watches as the gears start to turn in the younger’s head.
“I’ll see you later.” Sanghyuk stands up, dwarfing Taekwoon’s height easily, and Taekwoon trails behind him, trying not to think about their height differences and how broad he now is.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” It’s almost ten at night, and, even though Sanghyuk's now an adult, Taekwoon has hesitations about letting him walk all the way to his car alone. Nowhere in the city is safe at night.
“Don’t,” Sanghyuk says shortly. “Stay inside.”
“No, I can--”
Sanghyuk heaves a sigh -- takes it from the depths of his soul, it sounds like -- and turns around to peer down at his former tutor. “I walked here,” he admits. “You can’t walk with me.”
“I can drive you.” Taekwoon is adamant on that point. Even more so now. There’s no way Sanghyuk’s walking all the way home at this hour and without a car and-- no. Taekwoon snatches up his keys before Sanghyuk can sigh again. “Alright, go.”
Taekwoon locks his apartment behind him, and Sanghyuk doesn’t say a word. Taekwoon waits for him to protest, but he doesn’t, and maybe this is a sign that he does want to be driven. The walk to Taekwoon’s car seems longer than usual thanks to the terse silence that follows, but Taekwoon’s okay with uncomfortable silences. He’s endured many of them.
But this one is different.
“I think you should tell me what’s going on,” Taekwoon brings up. “You haven’t said one word about what you’re doing now.” He gestures at Sanghyuk’s clothes. “You could be a stock market guy, entrepreneur, or a boss of a drug cartel -- I have no idea.” This gets no response from Sanghyuk. Taekwoon goes on. “Talk of Hongbin isn’t okay, and it’s apparent that you’re avoiding him. I haven’t seen you at all in thee years -- why now?”
“Don’t talk about Hongbin.” Sanghyuk shoves his hands into his pockets. “Please.” Taekwoon waits for something more than that, for Sanghyuk to finish his thought, to unlock the secrets inside and share them with Taekwoon, but Sanghyuk doesn’t. Taekwoon feels the frustration build.
They reach his car and get inside. Taekwoon buckles himself in, starting to feel sorry for snooping where he’s obviously not wanted. Sanghyuk doesn’t want to talk. Maybe he’s only around again to play with cats and just be in Taekwoon’s presence; it’s an odd thing to ask for, but Taekwoon feels bad for diving headfirst into Sanghyuk’s obvious turmoil when he’s the one who pushed him away first. He sighs.
Before Taekwoon starts the engine, he asks in a voice not loud enough even in the small space of the car, “So you’re not taking the cats with you?”
And this gets Sanghyuk to finally crack a smile.
Taekwoon met Sanghyuk when he used to dress like his life was falling apart -- skinny jeans and baggy shirts, shoes that claimed he didn’t belong to the upper class but a hair cut that said he did. He was Sanghyuk’s tutor. Taekwoon made daily visits to the Han household, helping with Chinese, but every time he visited, he felt like he wasn’t just helping with language.
“What’s the matter?” Taekwoon would ask.
Sanghyuk would bite on his lip -- he always had chapped lips -- and mutter, “Nothing.”
He would distract Taekwoon with manga and this or that character and describe plot lines and back stories, and Taekwoon would listen. He would listen because Sanghyuk would finally stop biting his lips, lose the worry in his forehead, and come out to be talkative and engaging. Taekwoon felt bad for him.
He would come over to Taekwoon’s apartment at times and make food on the stove, trying out his skills, and this would lead to lots of burned dinners they both choked down. Sanghyuk was eager as anything to prove himself. After they would finish studying, Sanghyuk would sometimes turn on an anime -- (“Taekwoon-hyung, watch this one; you’ll like it.”) -- and they’d eat on the couch.
But one thing led to another, and it wasn’t until Sanghyuk pressed shy lips to Taekwoon’s that he realized that he dug too deep into Sanghyuk’s heart, and Sanghyuk decided to keep him there.
“I’m your tutor, Sanghyuk. I-- We can’t.”
It was too late, though. Sanghyuk’s walls flew back up, and Taekwoon was never invited back.
Taekwoon leaves school to find Hongbin on his car, sitting on the hood. There’s a cigarette dangling between his lips, shoulders slack, and he’s staring Taekwoon down as he approaches.
“What’s Sanghyuk told you?”
“He hasn’t told me anything.” This is the first time he’s seen Hongbin in three years, and even back then he only got minutes of time around the boy. Hongbin never seemed to like him much. “Why?”
“Keep to yourself.” Hongbin takes the cigarette out of his mouth, smoke stream curling into the air, and pulls his fingers through his hair. He has one of those faces that speaks of good intentions but belies the assumption.
Taekwoon readjusts his stance. There’s people watching; someone’s going to tell Hongbin off for smoking on school property -- Taekwoon should be the one. “Sanghyuk doesn’t seem keen on talking to you.”
“Sanghyuk doesn’t know what’s good for him.” Hongbin takes one last drag and chucks the cigarette butt to the pavement. Smoke puffs into the air. “What I’ve been telling him for months is finally happening, and he doesn’t get it. Or he does but won’t accept it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good.” Hongbin hops off the hood and dusts of his pants. He’s dressed similar to how Sanghyuk does now. “It’s better that way, and if you see Sanghyuk, tell him to call me.”
With that, Hongbin turns and stalks away, content to walk, and Taekwoon stares at the still-burning cigarette long after everyone leaves the parking lot.
So he tells Sanghyuk. His chance arises two days later when Sanghyuk rings the buzzer and slides into Taekwoon’s apartment, wearing visible irritation. Now might not be the best time, but Taekwoon’s had enough of secrets.
Sanghyuk reacts minimally. He sits down on the couch, knees spread wide and elbows poised on his thighs with shoulders hunched. He runs his teeth over his lower lip. It’s gradual but his brows bend more and more to soon his irritation morphs to anger, slow-burning.
“What’s he talking about?”
“Don’t talk to him,” Sanghyuk orders. His fiery eyes turn to Taekwoon, and the teacher’s never seen him this enraged before. “Please, just-- If he comes back, don’t talk to him.”
“Sanghyuk, if you don’t tell me--”
“I’m telling you to not speak to him; he’s a jack-ass.”
Today, Sanghyuk’s hair is back to being swept off his forehead. A golden watch adorns his wrist, and Taekwoon bets he smells like the cologne he wore the night they kissed. The black kitten has found a spot by his hip, and Taekwoon can see that he’s trying to ignore the cat, but his attention keeps straying there, to where the purrs are coming from.
Taekwoon unclenches his fists. “Sanghyuk, what happened?” It’s little more than a whisper, but Sanghyuk hears him, avoiding Taekwoon’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you like this?”
Sanghyuk scratches the spot behind the kitten’s ears, chewing on his lower lip, and he’s quiet for so long that Taekwoon knows he won’t get an answer. But he does. “Three years is a long time.”
“What happened?”
“You find things out….” Sanghyuk’s shoulders are tight, and if he would stop moving his hands for one second, Taekwoon would notice the quiver in them. “It’s just family business,” Sanghyuk says.
He doesn’t say anything more.
It doesn’t become serious until one day Sanghyuk stumbles into the apartment, hand pressed to his bicep and sweat layered to his face. Taekwoon left the door unlocked because he just came in; he was about to lock it, but then Sanghyuk was pounding and tried the doorknob before Taekwoon could get to it.
The door swings inward to show a bloody boy that has Taekwoon’s heart racing. Tears leak out of the corners of Sanghyuk’s eyes, cheeks wet, and his hand is clamped over the bloody shreds of his sleeve. Sanghyuk stumbles to the couch, kittens racing out of his path, and collapses in a heap. His breaths are quick. He’s unable to calm himself down.
“What happened?” Taekwoon’s demand isn’t strong; it’s broken by the choke of fear that has him by the throat. “Sanghyuk, tell me.”
Sanghyuk has an iron grip on his arm, seething through his teeth. Those teeth are tinged red thanks to the split in his lip, and he’s decorated in dozens of other cuts. The worst is his arm, blood oozing through his fingers.
Taekwoon peels the hand away to see ripped flesh. There’s a chunk of skin missing on the outside of his arm, too deep to be okay, and Taekwoon tries to smash the gasp that works its way up. Sanghyuk’s moaning and crying, and blood is seeping into the couch cushions, and Taekwoon doesn’t know what to do.
There’s ringing that has to be Sanghyuk’s cellphone.
“Answer it,” he chokes out, face screwed into something awful. “Pl- please.” Taekwoon reaches into the pocket of Sanghyuk’s once-nice pants and fiddles with the lock screen, Sanghyuk grunting out his password. “Speaker. P- put it on speaker.”
Taekwoon does so, and Hongbin’s anger fizzles through.
“What the hell happened? Where are you?”
Taekwoon puts the phone on Sanghyuk’s chest as both his hands are occupied. Taekwoon jumps up, straight to the linens closet to find a towel to wrap around Sanghyuk’s arm. It’s better than nothing, and he can use that in the car. Taekwoon thinks his keys are on the kitchen table; he’ll grab those and shuttle Sanghyuk out the door.
The hospital is only ten minutes up the road; if Taekwoon abuses the gas pedal he can--
“Hongbin, just l- listen; come get me.”
“Well, where the fuck are you?”
Taekwoon re-enters with the towel. He stares intently at Sanghyuk as he presses it to younger’s arm. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” he whispers. He’s not sure why he’s whispering.
“No,” Sanghyuk moans, long and drawn out. His hair is tangled and has fallen out of his gelled million-dollar look. Sanghyuk has reverted back into vulnerability. “You stay here.”
“Sanghyuk,” Hongbin’s voice hisses. “You’re with him?”
Taekwoon eases Sanghyuk into a sitting position, but he fights him the whole way. “Stop, Taekwoon…please. Stop.”
“Sanghyuk, I swear to god. I told you not to fucking do this, and here you are -- fuck it.”
“Hyung,” Sanghyuk pants, fingers twisted in the front Taekwoon’s button-up shirt. “Please, just wait for Hongbin. He’s on his w- way.”
“To take you where, Sanghyuk?” Taekwoon’s grip is firm on the towel, and Sanghyuk’s tears aren’t ceasing. “You need a hospital.”
“Trust me. Hongbin will take care of it….” Sanghyuk’s eyes screw shut. “I can’t go. Don’t take me. My- my dad--”
Hongbin makes a noise in the phone, where it’s fallen into Sanghyuk’s lap by now, and Taekwoon snatches it up. He growls into the receiver, “You have five minutes. Hurry up.”
“Bring him to the complex entrance in three. No less. Don’t wait around.”
Hongbin hangs up.
Taekwoon presses harder on the towel, smashing his anger. “What’s this about your dad?”
Sanghyuk looks to be in no shape to talk, but his defenses are down; his teary eyes and pink cheeks are the perfect excuse for answers. “He can’t…see me like- like this.” He grunts, a choked sob working its way up.
“Steady your breathing,” Taekwoon instructs, tongue heavy in his mouth. Panic rips around inside him, but he can’t let Sanghyuk know that. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Look at me -- there.” He starts to breath in the same way, long and even breaths. “Stitches will fix you.”
Sanghyuk’s lips tremble and fresh tears slip down the slopes of his face, clinging around his wide nose, over the shape of his lips, trickling down the angle of his jaw. “No, hyung,” he whimpers. His fist is still tight in Taekwoon’s shirt. “They can’t fix it. I can’t fix it.”
Taekwoon shushes him. He fluffs Sanghyuk’s sweaty bangs off his forehead before returning both hands to his bleeding arm. The blood soaks through the towel. It paints Taekwoon’s hands. “Sanghyuk,” he says in a tight voice. “You need to tell me about your dad; you need to tell me. You can’t keep me in the dark.”
Sanghyuk finally breaks eye contact. “Hongbin will be here soon. We need to go….” Taekwoon makes to argue, but Sanghyuk says, “And I- I’ll tell you. Not now. Later.”
And that’s as good as he’s going to get.
Taekwoon helps Sanghyuk to his feet, keeping the towel in place, and the younger wobbles. He’s light-headed from the blood loss. Taekwoon feels a burning regret for not taking him to the hospital -- damn Sanghyuk and his father -- but the fear in Sanghyuk’s eyes wasn’t something to question.
“You’re sure this’ll get properly treated?”
Sanghyuk nods, face ashen. He looks terrible, and Taekwoon feels so wrong sending him off like this. He slips Sanghyuk’s phone back into his pocket.
“Call me later.”
Sanghyuk is surprised at the words but nods. “O- okay, hyung.”
Right as they reach double doors of the complex, a dark car peels into the parking lot, screeching on the brakes. Hongbin. Taekwoon’s about to help Sanghyuk out when Sanghyuk pushes at him, making a noise of disapproval. “Stay…here.”
Taekwoon latches on harder.
Hongbin rolls down the driver’s window, motioning furiously with a hand, and Sanghyuk utters a small, “Go. Now.” They exit the building, Sanghyuk walking fast and unbalanced, leaned against Taekwoon. They get to the car, and Taekwoon ushers Sanghyuk inside with Hongbin cursing in the background.
“How could you, you fucking idiot; we almost got killed, and you wind up here? Next time you pull a shit stunt like this I’m gonna leave your ass.”
Sanghyuk ignores him and looks up at Taekwoon with red eyes. “Go inside. We won’t leave until you do.”
Taekwoon blinks at him and looks at Hongbin, who’s fuming at the wheel. Hongbin doesn’t like the lingering. “You heard him; go.”
They’re serious even though Sanghyuk’s bleeding all over the upholstery, and Taekwoon backs away from the car that carries his former student. His worry is escalating now that Sanghyuk’s out of his arms, about to be driven to who-knows-where, all of this under questionable circumstances.
Only when Taekwoon disappears back into the building does the black car lurch into movement, speeding out and onto the road. Taekwoon watches them go.
This is absurd, he thinks. Sanghyuk’s being cryptic, and whatever he’s not being told, Hongbin doesn’t have any wish for it to include Taekwoon. Sanghyuk’s father is part of it; was he the one who hurt Sanghyuk?
Taekwoon steps inside his apartment, locking it behind him, and slides down the shut door to his floor. There’s a fire inside that burns hotter at the thought of Sanghyuk’s parents. If they’re the ones who hurt him…. Taekwoon crumples his hands to fists.
What’s happening to Sanghyuk?
A kitten nudges at the toe of Taekwoon’s shoe. He’s still dressed in work attire and covered in Sanghyuk’s blood, and he needs to change, take a shower, but his nerves and worries have him so tightly wound that all he can do is sit and stare at his floor, at the kitten pawing at his pant leg.
He doesn’t move from the spot until Sanghyuk texts him at ten after eight.
I’m alright.
And Taekwoon can finally breathe.
Taekwoon skips Jaehwan’s next get-together although Jaehwan is threatening to break up with him. He jokes because he knows Taekwoon’s stressed about Sanghyuk -- he’s been filled in on the problem -- and neither of them know what to do about it. So even if Jaehwan wants Taekwoon over, he understands.
Taekwoon sits at his kitchen table, eating the leftovers he reheated in the microwave. There’s a second plate on the table, right now empty, but he’s expecting for any second--
A soft knock on Taekwoon’s door makes him pause.
There it is.
Sanghyuk texted him five minutes ago, letting Taekwoon know he was in the area and stopping by. This came at the end of a slew of reminders for Taekwoon to not open his door for anyone -- no one. don’t answer it for anyone but me. He’s sent these out over the past few days, ever since he arrived with the bloody arm, and Taekwoon is hoping to get a fulfillment of Sanghyuk’s promise tonight.
Taekwoon peers through the hole, and it is Sanghyuk. He unlocks his door and lets him brush inside, immediately taking note that Sanghyuk’s out of his normal, expensive taste. He’s wearing sweatpants and a thin sweat-jacket with the hood pulled over his head.
“Hiding?”
Sanghyuk turns back to look at Taekwoon, eyes wide. “Wh- what?”
It was a joke aimed at Sanghyuk’s hood, but Sanghyuk’s not laughing. And now neither is Taekwoon. “Sit,” he says, clearing his throat. He points at the table.
Sanghyuk does as he’s told.
Taekwoon takes the empty plate and fills it with things from the near-empty containers on the counter, making sure there’s more than enough for him to eat.
Sanghyuk chuckles softly. “I guess you remember what I like.”
Taekwoon flushes as he sticks the plate in the microwave. “Coincidence,” he mutters, but the slight pink on his cheeks says enough. He sits back down at the table and stares across at Sanghyuk. He tries to manage his expression. “How’s your arm?” He asks every time Sanghyuk texts, but he’s never gotten a real answer.
“It’s fine. I got all sewn up, and it’ll be okay as long as I don’t reopen it.”
Taekwoon beats a tune into the tabletop, knowing intuitively that Sanghyuk knows what his unspoken question is. He gets his answer.
“It was a bullet.” Sanghyuk sort of mumbles the words, looking pointedly behind Taekwoon’s head at the microwave’s countdown. “It grazed me pretty bad.”
“Hell, Sanghyuk.” Taekwoon feels dizzy at the confession, trying to imagine Sanghyuk in a bullet’s path. “Why?”
Sanghyuk’s jostling his knee, and it shakes the table, but Taekwoon’s not going to tell him to stop. “Well, uh, what do you want to know?”
Everything. “Just tell me what your life’s like right now.” The beep of the microwave calls Taekwoon out of his seat faster than Sanghyuk. He stirs the rice and fried vegetables and plops the plate in front of younger.
Sanghyuk dives into the food. “Well, uh, I work for my family,” he says between mouthfuls. “My dad owns one of the biggest crime syndicates here in the city. And I’m his only child.”
Taekwoon feels as if someone’s compressing his chest; he sinks back into his seat, linking his fingers before him.
“Hongbin’s parents were offed by him; Hongbin wants revenge.” Sanghyuk shovels more rice into his mouth; Taekwoon’s afraid he’ll choke if he goes any faster. “He needs to be stopped. My, uh, dad, I mean.”
Sanghyuk says it so simply, but Taekwoon can read the tension in him. “How does that make you feel?”
“Awful. Terrible? He’s my dad, and you know he’s been a piece of shit, but….”
“Murder isn’t easy.”
“Not like you’d know.” Sanghyuk’s eyes flash, voice defensive, and oh. He knows. Taekwoon wonders who Sanghyuk’s had to kill. “Besides, he’s suspicious. That’s how I--” his voice falters, and he ceases, using the silence left in his wake to eat.
Taekwoon observes him. “Sanghyuk, who’ve you killed?”
He shrugs, but the bouncing of Sanghyuk’s knee grows more erratic, and Taekwoon doesn’t care if it’s been one or however many -- it’s too much. He looks at Sanghyuk’s arm, hidden by his sweat-jacket sleeve. “So that’s what that is?”
“He…set up a trap for me and Hongbin. We went into the western end to get,” he looks at Taekwoon, “stuff, but he must’ve known somehow because there were all these guys waiting for our car to pull through. They shot me through the window.” Sanghyuk rubs at his hurt bicep. “It’s my left hand, though, so I can still shoot. Small blessings.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I didn’t even know you could shoot a gun.”
“Yeah, well three years is a long time.” Sanghyuk sighs through his nose and finishes off the rest of the plate. “Thanks,” he mumbles.
Taekwoon hasn’t touched his own food in awhile. “Is that why Hongbin doesn’t want me involved? Does he think I’ll…tell someone?”
“Hongbin doesn’t trust anyone.” Sanghyuk states it like that should console Taekwoon, like Hongbin’s lack of trust would offend him. “He doesn’t get why I’m around you so much.”
“But you’re only telling me all this now.”
“Right.” Sanghyuk’s focus is down on his plate. “I- I guess he thinks this is reckless. My dad’s really,” Sanghyuk’s face twists, “ruthless. I’ve been careful to make sure I haven’t been tailed when I come here, but….”
Taekwoon swallows. His life could be in danger all because of Sanghyuk. “You’re so far safe here,” he says after a moment. “It’s alright.”
“I’m sorry, hyung.”
Taekwoon feigns a smile that he doesn’t feel. “You only call me that when it suits you.” Sanghyuk ducks his head, hiding embarrassment, and Taekwoon’s affection swells up inside him.
He shouldn’t entertain thoughts of him and Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk may be older now, but there’s no way they could ever work. There’s seven years between them that Taekwoon’s counted, over and over, and he’s not really sure how Sanghyuk would even pick him out of all the people he could have. This brings up something in Taekwoon, and he looks at the young man sitting across from him. “Why me?”
Sanghyuk shifts in his seat. “What do you mean?”
“Three years is a long time -- why’d you come to me after everything?” Taekwoon braces himself for the answer, trying to latch down his feelings inside, but knows there’s no way that he can.
Sanghyuk looks like the answer is obvious. “Taekwoon, I missed you.” He flips down his hood and runs his wide hands through his hair. “I shouldn’t have- have kissed you. Not the first time, not the last time. I like you a lot -- I always have -- but it wasn’t right. I just needed to talk to someone outside my life, and I was so happy to see you; this shit is really….” He buries his head into his arms, and Taekwoon can visibly see how much the stress is affecting him.
“Sanghyuk.” Sanghyuk doesn’t look up, just a grunt from his arms to tell Taekwoon he’s listening. “Do you like me?”
The young man goes still and then makes a small nod.
Then that settles it. Taekwoon lets out a slow breath. Sanghyuk’s twenty years old, and there’s no more excuses for Taekwoon to push this away. Past inhibitions of liking Sanghyuk have completely fled; he embraces it now.
“That’s alright,” Taekwoon says, marveling that he’s able to get the words out. “I like you, too.”
Sanghyuk’s head pops up, eyes wide, and he looks stunned. Like he never thought Taekwoon would say yes to him, almost like he expected to be laughed at. He looks like he wants to say so many things, but all he can ask is, “Can I stay the night? I just…. I can’t go home.”
“Stay as long as you like.”
Kindness is extended toward Sanghyuk, and the look in his eyes tells Taekwoon that he’s grasping onto it.
Sanghyuk takes to staying at Taekwoon’s apartment. While Taekwoon goes to teach, Sanghyuk will leave, meet up with Hongbin (what they do is always under wraps, avoided in mumbled excuses), and always be home in time for Taekwoon. He doesn’t stop sending the texts. Reminders to tell Taekwoon to say he doesn’t know Sanghyuk, to not believe strangers if they talk to him, to not talk to strangers, to call him if something comes up, to always text before he leaves school.
It’s like having a very over-protective parent, but Taekwoon does as he’s asked because the fear in Sanghyuk’s eyes never goes away.
Sanghyuk will wait at the complex’s entrance for him, surveying the parking lot, and Taekwoon knows he’s watching out for him, but there’s no way no one couldn’t know where Sanghyuk lays his head down at night. If this is as serious as Sanghyuk says, then someone’s had to see him disappear into the complex day after day. Taekwoon brings this up, but Sanghyuk doesn’t respond. He either is confident in himself, or he just doesn’t know what to do about it.
Taekwoon’s suspecting the latter.
Living with Sanghyuk, despite everything, adds something extra to Taekwoon’s daily life. He’s missed Sanghyuk’s slightly sarcastic humor, the faint traces of silliness under this new version, and there’s nothing better than waking up to a sleep-ruffled Sanghyuk. The first two nights Sanghyuk sleeps on the couch. The rest of them he slips into Taekwoon’s bed, curling up and throwing an arm around the older’s waist, fingers digging into Taekwoon’s hip even in sleep.
It reminds Taekwoon of back when he’d try to get Sanghyuk to practice Chinese vocabulary sheets, and while the boy was distracted, he’d browse around the bedroom, looking at this or that. It would never fail for Sanghyuk to follow him, pulling things out of his hands and holding them close. His stuff.
When he became more familiar with Taekwoon he would let him look at anything he wanted, but now, as Taekwoon stays awake at night with Sanghyuk’s body so close, he knows that he’ll never give this up.
In the quiet one night, Sanghyuk whispers into the top of Taekwoon’s head, into his hair, “I don’t want to kill my dad.” His thumb is rubbing at the back of Taekwoon’s neck, and the older has his face pressed into Sanghyuk’s chest. He was on the verge of sleep, but the rumbles of Sanghyuk’s voice have his attention. “If I do,” he continues, “I’ll have to take his place.”
“Give it to someone else, then.”
Sanghyuk doesn’t answer, instead choosing to comb through the hair at Taekwoon’s neck. They fall asleep like this.
Their third kiss comes on the second morning after Sanghyuk starts to sleep in the same bed. Sanghyuk’s more sure now, more brazen since learning what Taekwoon feels for him, and Taekwoon sinks against his headboard as Sanghyuk pushes their lips together. He manages to work out, “I love you,” between their moving lips, and Taekwoon grips Sanghyuk’s shoulders the tightest he’s ever dared.
He won’t be giving this up either.
It’s a full month and a half before reality fractures their time.
The knock on the door seems to be Sanghyuk’s. Taekwoon shifts the kittens off his lap -- Sanghyuk hasn’t gotten to naming either one -- and pads to the door. It’s a Saturday morning, and Sanghyuk left despite Taekwoon’s plead for him not to. “Just real quick. I need to talk to Hongbin.” And Taekwoon had returned Sanghyuk’s kiss goodbye a little more bitterly to hope that Sanghyuk would feel just how much he disapproves of this.
But the knock on the door remains, and Sanghyuk didn’t text that he was home. Taekwoon, now at the door, is suspicious. He looks through the peephole to see two men, unfamiliar, and before he can back away bullets shatter the doorway. Wood splinters everywhere, and Taekwoon feels the blunt force of bullets hit his body once, twice, three times, and he goes down in a pool of his own blood.
He lays there, feeling everything sap out of him, and he’s not sure how long it is before the neighbors fearfully check, seeing Taekwoon shot up, and he’s not sure how long it is before he’s being moved onto a stretcher, wheeled from his apartment.
He’s in the back of an ambulance, and he’s not sure how long it will be before Sanghyuk realizes something’s wrong.
Swirls of lights and colors drown Taekwoon’s vision, and he slips into darkness. It happens several times. There’s lights then nothing, and Taekwoon is always in a different place each time he comes to. Once, he opens his eyes to Sanghyuk standing over him, eyes wet and breathing hard.
Taekwoon tries to talk to him, to let him know he’s here, but he can’t. The crescents of his eyelids shut before he wants them to, blinking Sanghyuk out.
“I’ll be back.”
Taekwoon knows where he’s going.
A lot of times, Taekwoon doesn’t even fully wake up. It’s this half sort of conscious state, but everything’s still dark; it’s just Taekwoon and his thoughts. He thinks about Sanghyuk a lot, hoping he’s alright, hoping Jaehwan’s not worried, hoping the kittens at home are being taken care of. He so desperately wants to be awake, wants to know if Sanghyuk’s fine. He wants to hold onto his hand and give him strength; he wants to tell Jaehwan how he’s in love with Sanghyuk, that he’s finally surrendered to that.
He wants to wake up.
Taekwoon gets his wish after what seems like an eternity.
A ceiling that’s too white, appliances too stark, and a smell of antiseptic overwhelms Taekwoon, and he whines in response. There’s a touch on the back of his hand and a soft voice. “Hey, you’re awake.”
It’s a bit before Taekwoon can properly look at Sanghyuk, their fingers tangling together around Taekwoon’s I.V. “How do you feel?”
“Awful,” Taekwoon croaks.
Sanghyuk smiles and for the first time in a long time, it looks relieved.
A movement in the corner shows Hongbin, glaring at them, arms crossed, and by the door are two men in suits. People Taekwoon’s never seen. And, the more Taekwoon looks at Sanghyuk, the more he realizes there’s something different about him.
It’s another collection of moments before Taekwoon sees the blood spatters. His skin is scrubbed clean, but his clothes are soaked in dried blood; he smells like death. The shock hits Taekwoon hard. He’s not sure what he expected, but seeing Sanghyuk like this isn’t something he wanted at all.
“It’s okay,” Sanghyuk whispers, bringing the back of Taekwoon’s hand to his lips. He brushes the stray tear that falls from the older’s eye, smiling in all his bloody glory. “I fixed it.”
Taekwoon limps around Jaehwan’s kitchen, heading for the bar stool. Out of the three bullets to hit him, the only one to make permanent damage was the one to his thigh. The nerve suffered for it.
Sanghyuk says he likes Taekwoon’s limp, that it makes him look like the beginnings of a stereotypical wise figure in cartoons -- “You just need gray hair and a beard now.” Taekwoon always smacks him with the nearest available object.
Jaehwan places a pint of ice-cream before him, and neither says a word until Taekwoon’s cellphone buzzes, no doubt that it’s Sanghyuk.
“So he’s the big guy now, is he?”
“Something like that.”
Jaehwan plays with his ice-cream, scooping some and knocking it off and then scooping more and repeating the process. “You got lucky once, Taekwoon; I don’t know if that’ll happen again.”
“I know.”
It’s been three months Taekwoon’s hospitalization, and Sanghyuk still sits on his couch to watch cartoons, and he still burns food on the stove. Taekwoon still chokes it down.
Jaehwan can’t leave the subject alone, though; it’s hard to. “He’s a- a mob boss, and you’re a school teacher -- this is bizarre.” He makes a face. “You can say he’s cute or whatever, but I haven’t fallen completely in love with the whole idea yet.”
“That’s fine.”
Jaehwan frowns.
“He might pass it off to someone else,” Taekwoon shares, thinking about Sanghyuk’s long phone conversations with Hongbin. (“Just do something; I don’t want it.”) “I hope he does.”
Sanghyuk still kisses Taekwoon like he’s the only one -- the most important person to him. “Thank you,” he whispered into the crook between Taekwoon’s neck and shoulder just that morning. “For everything -- thank you so much.” Taekwoon was right; he won’t be letting him go.
The two friends sit together for a long time, and it’s when they’re nearing the end of their pints when Jaehwan says the last thing Taekwoon expected out of all this. “I wonder how Sanghyuk would feel about sharing you,” he muses, slight smile coming back.
With his good leg, Taekwoon kicks Jaehwan in the shin.
-*finger snaps away* B-)
Pairing: Leo/Hyuk
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8.6k
Warnings: blood, violence, age gap
Summary: Even under Sanghyuk's expensive clothes and newly chiseled features, Taekwoon knows something's wrong.
Sanghyuk never expected himself to be the type to fall in love with his eyes, laying sight on someone and becoming so entranced that they’re the one and only priority. He never expected to see a face so compelling that he now has to know the person underneath. He blinks, trying to make sure he’s seeing right, but the man is real; the man is beautiful. Sanghyuk’s in trouble.
Hongbin nudges him as the cars fly past on the busy street. “You okay?”
Sanghyuk blinks again, and real life seeps into his dreamlike state. He watches the man walk from his car into the high school but now with the roar of traffic in his ears. “Yeah.” But Sanghyuk needs a name to match the face. He can feel the pull in his heart. Ridiculous. Hongbin’s still staring at him, so he clears his throat and tears his eyes away from the school. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Hongbin follows him down the street, but Sanghyuk has his thoughts elsewhere. He thinks he needs a tutor.
----
Taekwoon ends a hectic day by walking quickly down hallways, weaving through waves of students and dialing Jaehwan’s number faster than he can pass the science department. He didn’t sleep well last night so there’s an ache between his shoulders, and his head hurts; this all is fodder for an excuse to not meet Jaehwan tonight. Taekwoon doesn’t feel like driving to Jaehwan’s house to just meet new people. Tomorrow will be a rough day anyway because he has bus duty. He needs as much sleep as he can get, and hopefully Jaehwan will understand that.
Jaehwan picks up after the first ring like he was expecting the call. “You’re not coming tonight.”
Taekwoon blinks and quickens his pace. “Right, but I was also going to say--”
“It’s something every time,” Jaehwan whines through the phone’s crackle. “You know one of these days I’ll just kidnap you, and that way you’ll have to come.”
Taekwoon sighs. He’s come out of the school now, walking to his car, and…. His footsteps slow down considerably as he sees that there’s a someone leaning on his car. He squints his eyes in the bright sun.
“Taekwoon?” Jaehwan asks, checking to make sure he’s there.
He doesn’t stop walking, and his stomach twists when he realizes that he knows this someone. “Hey, Jaehwan, I’m gonna call you back. Something’s come up.” Jaehwan starts to protest but Taekwoon ends the call anyway, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“I couldn’t remember when school ended,” the person says when Taekwoon draws close enough.
Taekwoon sucks in a breath, trying to mask his surprise. “Sanghyuk?”
Han Sanghyuk smiles, his old bleached blond hair gone into a dark and swept back style -- he’s all around a physically different person. Taekwoon remembers him being shorter than this, not so much leg, and there’s the issue of his face. He looks older, and that’s a bad thing.
Sanghyuk tilts his head, looking pleased by Taekwoon’s reaction. “Let’s go somewhere. My treat.”
Taekwoon somehow ends up in a pet store on the opposite side of town. Sanghyuk’s looking at the kittens, and Taekwoon’s looking at Sanghyuk. If he seems apprehensive to hanging out with a former student then that observation would be right. Their last session together went horribly wrong, and Taekwoon can’t get that out of his head; it’s been muted with time but now that he’s staring down at Sanghyuk’s back, the boy crouched over kittens, it’s begging for attention.
Sanghyuk of the now steals that attention. “Do you want a kitten?”
Taekwoon shakes his head. He remembers vast, deep conversations they’ve had about the pros and cons of owning cats although both are cat lovers. He may have let it slip more than once he wanted a kitten but not knowing if he’d be able to take care of one with his work schedule; Sanghyuk obviously remembers. Taekwoon wants to change the subject. “Where’s Hongbin?”
Sanghyuk’s hands clench even though his eyes smile. “Somewhere, anywhere. I don’t care. Hey, that’s a rhyme.”
Taekwoon decides Hongbin is a bad place to direct the conversation. Safer, maybe for Taekwoon, but there’s tension in that direction as well, and the last thing he wants to do is upset Sanghyuk. Again. Taekwoon clears his throat. “I should really be going home. I’ve had a long day--”
“Sure. We can go back to your house.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
Sanghyuk stands up and turns and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s wearing black trousers, a long-sleeved white button up shirt, but no tie to finish off the professional look. He looks like he was all buttoned in at one point, but Sanghyuk’s rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and sunglasses tucked into the V of his shirt. He looks so different from the teenager Taekwoon used to tutor, who would wear over-sized foreign band shirts and skinny jeans and ask about cats and offer him lunch.
Three years hasn’t changed Taekwoon as much.
Sanghyuk keeps staring at Taekwoon, and he feels like he’s been put under a spotlight. Taekwoon can’t hold his gaze, Sanghyuk peering down at him, but he won’t be the first one to look away. The younger finally blinks and says, “Fine. I’ll get the cat and it’ll live at my house.” He turns away once more, cooing at a little black cat, and Taekwoon's not sure what has happened.
They get back into Taekwoon's car, and Sanghyuk has two cats. The all black one and an orange one with white paws. “They were litter mates,” Sanghyuk explains. “I couldn’t leave the other one.”
Taekwoon grips his steering wheel tighter. They’re still sitting in the parking lot, and he can’t wait to tell Jaehwan about this, about how a certain former student has reappeared and they both went to the pet store. “Do you have someone to pick you up?”
Sanghyuk blinks at him, tearing his eyes away from his box of kittens. “Huh?”
“Or,” Taekwoon mashes his face with his hands. Sanghyuk probably has his license by now -- what’s he thinking? “Where did you leave your car? Or however you got to the school; I’ll drop you off.”
“Can we go to your house first?” Sanghyuk says it with a slight pleading tone, and that makes Taekwoon’s ears perk up. “Please?”
“Since when are you this desperate to come over?” Taekwoon says it before he can stop himself, and he instantly regrets everything.
“Since forever. Please, hyung?”
Taekwoon’s on the way to his house before he can change his mind. Once there he sends Jaehwan a text, and he stuffs the phone into his pocket before he realizes Sanghyuk's been watching him. “Boyfriend?” There’s suspicion on Sanghyuk’s face, and Taekwoon orders him out of the car. “Just asking.”
Taekwoon slams his car door shut. “It’s just Jaehwan.” He doesn’t have to explain anything to Sanghyuk, but here he is. “I was letting him know that I wasn’t coming over tonight.”
Sanghyuk’s got the box of kittens in his arms and both walk up to the apartment complex. He follows in silence as Taekwoon climbs the stairs all the way up to his floor, but he protests when Taekwoon stops outside his door but won’t go inside.
“What’s this about, Sanghyuk?” Taekwoon’s leaning against his door with his back to it, and he’s aware of just how much taller the younger is than him now.
The kittens in the box mewl, but this time Sanghyuk’s paying no mind to them. “Can we just go inside?”
“If we do, will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t lie.”
Sanghyuk shifts the box and the mewls slip through the cardboard flaps. He looks down, noticing their distress, and sticks his hand back inside the box, petting the kittens and cooing soft words at them. Taekwoon frowns and opens his door.
Five minutes later, they’re seated on the kitchen floor, the kittens roaming around them. Maybe Sanghyuk hasn’t changed much at all, Taekwoon thinks. He has the same smile, the same laugh -- he uses both while playing with the kittens. “Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon directs at him. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Sanghyuk sits back on his heels, black slacks creasing. He’s close to Taekwoon, and Taekwoon keeps watching their distance, but Sanghyuk seems oblivious to it. “Nothing’s going on. Do I need an excuse to want to see you?”
Taekwoon’s face gets hot, and he buries it in his hands. He’s too tired for this. He loosens his tie and then runs his hands through his hair, taking it out of its neatly arranged state. “Sanghyuk, I don’t--”
Taekwoon’s chin is titled up, and Sanghyuk’s lips meet his quickly, urgently. Something’s wrong, Taekwoon knows, but what’s even more concerning is that this time Taekwoon doesn’t pull away. Their last kiss ended their tutoring sessions together, Taekwoon not coming back and Sanghyuk never begged for him to, but this…this is different.
Taekwoon finally pulls away a bit for breath and the oxygen gives him enough mental power to push Sanghyuk away. Not hard, not like he did those years ago, but gently. “Sanghyuk, no, I-- You need,” Taekwoon takes in another breath, “to talk to me.”
Sanghyuk’s still close enough for Taekwoon to smell -- expensive cologne and his own natural scent -- and Taekwoon just wants Sanghyuk to talk to him. He used to. Sanghyuk looks him in the eyes, and his eyes ask Taekwoon to not speak of anything else, pupils blown wide.
“Please,” Taekwoon staring to beg, but as the word escapes him, Sanghyuk stands up, straightening his shirt.
“I’ll be back. Later.” Sanghyuk walks to the door, his shoes squeaking on the floor, and says over his shoulder, “Watch out for strangers.” With that, Sanghyuk’s gone, and Taekwoon’s left sitting on his kitchen floor. His phone vibrates on the counter, probably Jaehwan, and when he gets up to answer it he realizes he has two kittens romping around his feet.
Taekwoon has kittens.
The kittens adjust faster than Taekwoon does. He buys food and little bowls for them, a placemat so said food doesn’t spill all over his floor (it still does), and he even starts thinking of names for them. He can’t keep calling them One and Two, but he doesn’t want to name Sanghyuk’s cats for him. He calls Sanghyuk before getting ready for work on the morning after, but the young man never picked up his phone.
Taekwoon leaves a message, strictly on business of the kittens. He doesn’t mention the kiss, or how he feels about it, or how he imagines Sanghyuk feels about it. He doesn’t want to think about how Sanghyuk feels, least of all how he does.
The kittens take up his life in the space of a week, and Taekwoon really hates Sanghyuk.
Speaking of.
“Isn’t that the kid who molested your lips that other time?” Jaehwan garbles the words around his spoonful of ice-cream. Both men are seated at Jaehwan’s kitchen counter, each with a pint of their favorite flavor, as Jaehwan listens to his friend’s woes.
“Yeah.”
Jaehwan makes a face. “He grew up?” More ice-cream goes into his mouth. “Poor kid. He finds you kissable. Very much so.”
Taekwoon doesn’t react to Jaehwan’s words. “He needs to come back and get his cats.”
“Good luck with that,” Jaehwan snorts.
Taekwoon stabs his ice-cream with his spoon. Repeatedly. “I just wanna know what’s wrong.” He bites his lip. “He seemed odd. I don’t know. Maybe his family--”
Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “This is exactly what happened last time. You got too involved with him, you wanted to get to know him, you felt bad for him, and he took it the wrong way. This kid is just very attached.”
Sanghyuk in fancy clothes, browsing a pet store, doesn’t seem too attached. Taekwoon letting Sanghyuk kiss him -- kissing Sanghyuk back -- seems too attached.
“You’re too nice,” Jaehwan goes on, waving his spoon around. “You let people get away with murder around you.”
“What’s that mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Taekwoon digs his spoon into his ice-cream, barely aware of it anymore. “He needs someone to reach out to him, I think. He really is nice, and he just needs a little structure.” Taekwoon finally takes a bite. It’s cold, but the sweetness lingers in his mouth long after he swallows.
Jaehwan’s watching him carefully, like Taekwoon might say that he’s kidding any second, but he doesn’t. Jaehwan gets a fraction more serious. “You can’t be his structure, Taekwoon.”
Taekwoon pretends that doesn’t sting something inside him. “That’s not what I’m saying.” But that almost sounds like a lie.
“What you just described,” Jaehwan goes on, “is a parent. He needs his parents. You’re not it.”
“Well, he needs someone.”
Jaehwan gives Taekwoon a look. “Does he?” His eyebrows are raised, and those eyes pierce Taekwoon like a territorial dog with its hackles standing straight up. “Or are you talking about yourself--”
Taekwoon kicks Jaehwan’s shin as he spins on the barstool toward him. “Don’t get jealous,” he mumbles.
“The boy’s kissed you twice; he’s a repeat offender. Number three is coming.”
Taekwoon’s insides melt to nothing at the statement. “And what makes you so sure? He won’t even come back to my apartment.”
“Do you want him to?”
Taekwoon puts his spoon down and says very seriously, “He left two cats at my house; I hope to god he’s coming back.”
“You’re not giving up the cats,” Jaehwan scoffs. “I’m not saying you do like him--” Jaehwan throws his hands up to halt Taekwoon's protests, “--or that you don’t, but can you seriously sit here, at my counter, in my home, eating my ice-cream--”
“I paid for mine.”
“--and tell me that you can see yourself in a relationship with this guy, this kid. Someone who’s been described to me as ‘needy’ and at times ‘stubborn.’”
“He’s grown up since then; maybe it’s different.”
Jaehwan’s mouth falls open, and his spoon slips through his fingers and to the floor. He retrieves his contaminated spoon and makes the trip to the sink, all while spluttering out half-responses. “You- you’re considering this?”
“I never said I was. And it’s been three years, Jaehwan; some people grow out of old habits and behaviors.”
“They also develop new ones.”
Taekwoon sighs. It’s obvious where Jaehwan’s going to stand on the Sanghyuk issue, and this is a little more upsetting than he first pictured. He knew Jaehwan was going to react this way -- Taekwoon can see why -- so why does he feel disappointed?
Taekwoon comes home that night to Sanghyuk sitting outside his apartment door. It’s not the return Taekwoon expected (he barely expected him to return at all), but he falls onto the floor beside Sanghyuk anyway.
“Hey,” Taekwoon says tentatively. Sanghyuk's staring at his own lap, fingers knitted together there, and his dark bangs are long, a curtain over his eyes. No gel today. He’s come dressed similar to the last time, like he’s important, a somebody, but here he is. Sitting outside Taekwoon’s door.
“I’m sorry,” Sanghyuk murmurs, leaving a lengthy pause between his and Taekwoon’s words. “I didn’t mean to.”
Taekwoon wonders if he means the kiss or the cats, because both seem like accidents. He doesn’t ask. “What are you doing here?”
Sanghyuk’s phone is in front of his crisscrossed legs, and it keeps lighting up and flashing with new notifications but no sound comes from it. It must be on silent, but that doesn’t stop the income of missed calls and messages. Taekwoon glances over and thinks he sees Hongbin’s name come up as an incoming call, but Sanghyuk just watches it come and go.
And come again. Because Hongbin keeps calling.
“I think Hongbin’s looking for you,” Taekwoon laughs a little, and Sanghyuk finally turns to him.
“How are the kitties?”
“Uh, fine. They’re inside--”
“Can I play with them?”
Taekwoon doesn’t know how he’s going to break it to Sanghyuk that he is the one who bought them, that they’re his, but he also doesn’t know what this means if they’ve stayed at Taekwoon’s house a week and Sanghyuk doesn’t seem to be here to take them home with him.
Taekwoon lets them into the apartment, and he pulls the black kitten out from under the couch, where it’s curled around one of the legs, and hands him off to Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk’s face lights up. Taekwoon looks away. “And the other one likes to sleep on my work.” He points to the orange one, who’s curled up on the kitchen table, on Taekwoon's papers to grade, and he snatches her up as well.
Sanghyuk’s expression brightens to an almost unmeasurable amount, much better than how he looked in the hallway, as he takes both into his arms and hugs them to his chest. He kisses their heads and then sets them down on the floor, more interested in seeing them play, and finds an old shoelace to entertain them with.
The evening is spent with Taekwoon grading papers at the kitchen table (a.k.a his desk), and Sanghyuk playing with the kittens as background noise. At some point, a time between the sun going down and the moon coming up, Taekwoon realizes the apartment’s gotten quiet. Very quiet. “Hey, Sanghyuk,” he calls as he’s halfway through a stack of Chinese vocabulary sheets. There’s no answer, and this prompts Taekwoon to view a heart-warming sight.
The young man’s asleep on his side, on the floor with his back to the couch, with a sleeping cat on his hip and at his chin. Taekwoon doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, but the time is getting close to much too late. Taekwoon gets up and walks over to the couch to wake Sanghyuk.
Taekwoon is nearly shaking Sanghyuk into a conscious state by the time the younger comes to, the kittens scared and long gone from their resting spots. “Hey, it’s getting late.” You can’t spend the night; you have to go home.
“That’s fine,” Sanghyuk yawns. His eyelids droop, and Taekwoon’s hands are on him to keep him from falling back asleep.
“I mean, do you need a ride home? How’d you get here?”
Sanghyuk’s expression turns petulant, and he jerks his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few things on it, sighs, and rubs at his face before lurching into a sitting position. Taekwoon gets out of the way. Sanghyuk sits there for a moment, hair ruffled and eyes bleary, and Taekwoon watches as the gears start to turn in the younger’s head.
“I’ll see you later.” Sanghyuk stands up, dwarfing Taekwoon’s height easily, and Taekwoon trails behind him, trying not to think about their height differences and how broad he now is.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” It’s almost ten at night, and, even though Sanghyuk's now an adult, Taekwoon has hesitations about letting him walk all the way to his car alone. Nowhere in the city is safe at night.
“Don’t,” Sanghyuk says shortly. “Stay inside.”
“No, I can--”
Sanghyuk heaves a sigh -- takes it from the depths of his soul, it sounds like -- and turns around to peer down at his former tutor. “I walked here,” he admits. “You can’t walk with me.”
“I can drive you.” Taekwoon is adamant on that point. Even more so now. There’s no way Sanghyuk’s walking all the way home at this hour and without a car and-- no. Taekwoon snatches up his keys before Sanghyuk can sigh again. “Alright, go.”
Taekwoon locks his apartment behind him, and Sanghyuk doesn’t say a word. Taekwoon waits for him to protest, but he doesn’t, and maybe this is a sign that he does want to be driven. The walk to Taekwoon’s car seems longer than usual thanks to the terse silence that follows, but Taekwoon’s okay with uncomfortable silences. He’s endured many of them.
But this one is different.
“I think you should tell me what’s going on,” Taekwoon brings up. “You haven’t said one word about what you’re doing now.” He gestures at Sanghyuk’s clothes. “You could be a stock market guy, entrepreneur, or a boss of a drug cartel -- I have no idea.” This gets no response from Sanghyuk. Taekwoon goes on. “Talk of Hongbin isn’t okay, and it’s apparent that you’re avoiding him. I haven’t seen you at all in thee years -- why now?”
“Don’t talk about Hongbin.” Sanghyuk shoves his hands into his pockets. “Please.” Taekwoon waits for something more than that, for Sanghyuk to finish his thought, to unlock the secrets inside and share them with Taekwoon, but Sanghyuk doesn’t. Taekwoon feels the frustration build.
They reach his car and get inside. Taekwoon buckles himself in, starting to feel sorry for snooping where he’s obviously not wanted. Sanghyuk doesn’t want to talk. Maybe he’s only around again to play with cats and just be in Taekwoon’s presence; it’s an odd thing to ask for, but Taekwoon feels bad for diving headfirst into Sanghyuk’s obvious turmoil when he’s the one who pushed him away first. He sighs.
Before Taekwoon starts the engine, he asks in a voice not loud enough even in the small space of the car, “So you’re not taking the cats with you?”
And this gets Sanghyuk to finally crack a smile.
Taekwoon met Sanghyuk when he used to dress like his life was falling apart -- skinny jeans and baggy shirts, shoes that claimed he didn’t belong to the upper class but a hair cut that said he did. He was Sanghyuk’s tutor. Taekwoon made daily visits to the Han household, helping with Chinese, but every time he visited, he felt like he wasn’t just helping with language.
“What’s the matter?” Taekwoon would ask.
Sanghyuk would bite on his lip -- he always had chapped lips -- and mutter, “Nothing.”
He would distract Taekwoon with manga and this or that character and describe plot lines and back stories, and Taekwoon would listen. He would listen because Sanghyuk would finally stop biting his lips, lose the worry in his forehead, and come out to be talkative and engaging. Taekwoon felt bad for him.
He would come over to Taekwoon’s apartment at times and make food on the stove, trying out his skills, and this would lead to lots of burned dinners they both choked down. Sanghyuk was eager as anything to prove himself. After they would finish studying, Sanghyuk would sometimes turn on an anime -- (“Taekwoon-hyung, watch this one; you’ll like it.”) -- and they’d eat on the couch.
But one thing led to another, and it wasn’t until Sanghyuk pressed shy lips to Taekwoon’s that he realized that he dug too deep into Sanghyuk’s heart, and Sanghyuk decided to keep him there.
“I’m your tutor, Sanghyuk. I-- We can’t.”
It was too late, though. Sanghyuk’s walls flew back up, and Taekwoon was never invited back.
Taekwoon leaves school to find Hongbin on his car, sitting on the hood. There’s a cigarette dangling between his lips, shoulders slack, and he’s staring Taekwoon down as he approaches.
“What’s Sanghyuk told you?”
“He hasn’t told me anything.” This is the first time he’s seen Hongbin in three years, and even back then he only got minutes of time around the boy. Hongbin never seemed to like him much. “Why?”
“Keep to yourself.” Hongbin takes the cigarette out of his mouth, smoke stream curling into the air, and pulls his fingers through his hair. He has one of those faces that speaks of good intentions but belies the assumption.
Taekwoon readjusts his stance. There’s people watching; someone’s going to tell Hongbin off for smoking on school property -- Taekwoon should be the one. “Sanghyuk doesn’t seem keen on talking to you.”
“Sanghyuk doesn’t know what’s good for him.” Hongbin takes one last drag and chucks the cigarette butt to the pavement. Smoke puffs into the air. “What I’ve been telling him for months is finally happening, and he doesn’t get it. Or he does but won’t accept it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good.” Hongbin hops off the hood and dusts of his pants. He’s dressed similar to how Sanghyuk does now. “It’s better that way, and if you see Sanghyuk, tell him to call me.”
With that, Hongbin turns and stalks away, content to walk, and Taekwoon stares at the still-burning cigarette long after everyone leaves the parking lot.
So he tells Sanghyuk. His chance arises two days later when Sanghyuk rings the buzzer and slides into Taekwoon’s apartment, wearing visible irritation. Now might not be the best time, but Taekwoon’s had enough of secrets.
Sanghyuk reacts minimally. He sits down on the couch, knees spread wide and elbows poised on his thighs with shoulders hunched. He runs his teeth over his lower lip. It’s gradual but his brows bend more and more to soon his irritation morphs to anger, slow-burning.
“What’s he talking about?”
“Don’t talk to him,” Sanghyuk orders. His fiery eyes turn to Taekwoon, and the teacher’s never seen him this enraged before. “Please, just-- If he comes back, don’t talk to him.”
“Sanghyuk, if you don’t tell me--”
“I’m telling you to not speak to him; he’s a jack-ass.”
Today, Sanghyuk’s hair is back to being swept off his forehead. A golden watch adorns his wrist, and Taekwoon bets he smells like the cologne he wore the night they kissed. The black kitten has found a spot by his hip, and Taekwoon can see that he’s trying to ignore the cat, but his attention keeps straying there, to where the purrs are coming from.
Taekwoon unclenches his fists. “Sanghyuk, what happened?” It’s little more than a whisper, but Sanghyuk hears him, avoiding Taekwoon’s eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you like this?”
Sanghyuk scratches the spot behind the kitten’s ears, chewing on his lower lip, and he’s quiet for so long that Taekwoon knows he won’t get an answer. But he does. “Three years is a long time.”
“What happened?”
“You find things out….” Sanghyuk’s shoulders are tight, and if he would stop moving his hands for one second, Taekwoon would notice the quiver in them. “It’s just family business,” Sanghyuk says.
He doesn’t say anything more.
It doesn’t become serious until one day Sanghyuk stumbles into the apartment, hand pressed to his bicep and sweat layered to his face. Taekwoon left the door unlocked because he just came in; he was about to lock it, but then Sanghyuk was pounding and tried the doorknob before Taekwoon could get to it.
The door swings inward to show a bloody boy that has Taekwoon’s heart racing. Tears leak out of the corners of Sanghyuk’s eyes, cheeks wet, and his hand is clamped over the bloody shreds of his sleeve. Sanghyuk stumbles to the couch, kittens racing out of his path, and collapses in a heap. His breaths are quick. He’s unable to calm himself down.
“What happened?” Taekwoon’s demand isn’t strong; it’s broken by the choke of fear that has him by the throat. “Sanghyuk, tell me.”
Sanghyuk has an iron grip on his arm, seething through his teeth. Those teeth are tinged red thanks to the split in his lip, and he’s decorated in dozens of other cuts. The worst is his arm, blood oozing through his fingers.
Taekwoon peels the hand away to see ripped flesh. There’s a chunk of skin missing on the outside of his arm, too deep to be okay, and Taekwoon tries to smash the gasp that works its way up. Sanghyuk’s moaning and crying, and blood is seeping into the couch cushions, and Taekwoon doesn’t know what to do.
There’s ringing that has to be Sanghyuk’s cellphone.
“Answer it,” he chokes out, face screwed into something awful. “Pl- please.” Taekwoon reaches into the pocket of Sanghyuk’s once-nice pants and fiddles with the lock screen, Sanghyuk grunting out his password. “Speaker. P- put it on speaker.”
Taekwoon does so, and Hongbin’s anger fizzles through.
“What the hell happened? Where are you?”
Taekwoon puts the phone on Sanghyuk’s chest as both his hands are occupied. Taekwoon jumps up, straight to the linens closet to find a towel to wrap around Sanghyuk’s arm. It’s better than nothing, and he can use that in the car. Taekwoon thinks his keys are on the kitchen table; he’ll grab those and shuttle Sanghyuk out the door.
The hospital is only ten minutes up the road; if Taekwoon abuses the gas pedal he can--
“Hongbin, just l- listen; come get me.”
“Well, where the fuck are you?”
Taekwoon re-enters with the towel. He stares intently at Sanghyuk as he presses it to younger’s arm. “I’m taking you to the hospital,” he whispers. He’s not sure why he’s whispering.
“No,” Sanghyuk moans, long and drawn out. His hair is tangled and has fallen out of his gelled million-dollar look. Sanghyuk has reverted back into vulnerability. “You stay here.”
“Sanghyuk,” Hongbin’s voice hisses. “You’re with him?”
Taekwoon eases Sanghyuk into a sitting position, but he fights him the whole way. “Stop, Taekwoon…please. Stop.”
“Sanghyuk, I swear to god. I told you not to fucking do this, and here you are -- fuck it.”
“Hyung,” Sanghyuk pants, fingers twisted in the front Taekwoon’s button-up shirt. “Please, just wait for Hongbin. He’s on his w- way.”
“To take you where, Sanghyuk?” Taekwoon’s grip is firm on the towel, and Sanghyuk’s tears aren’t ceasing. “You need a hospital.”
“Trust me. Hongbin will take care of it….” Sanghyuk’s eyes screw shut. “I can’t go. Don’t take me. My- my dad--”
Hongbin makes a noise in the phone, where it’s fallen into Sanghyuk’s lap by now, and Taekwoon snatches it up. He growls into the receiver, “You have five minutes. Hurry up.”
“Bring him to the complex entrance in three. No less. Don’t wait around.”
Hongbin hangs up.
Taekwoon presses harder on the towel, smashing his anger. “What’s this about your dad?”
Sanghyuk looks to be in no shape to talk, but his defenses are down; his teary eyes and pink cheeks are the perfect excuse for answers. “He can’t…see me like- like this.” He grunts, a choked sob working its way up.
“Steady your breathing,” Taekwoon instructs, tongue heavy in his mouth. Panic rips around inside him, but he can’t let Sanghyuk know that. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Look at me -- there.” He starts to breath in the same way, long and even breaths. “Stitches will fix you.”
Sanghyuk’s lips tremble and fresh tears slip down the slopes of his face, clinging around his wide nose, over the shape of his lips, trickling down the angle of his jaw. “No, hyung,” he whimpers. His fist is still tight in Taekwoon’s shirt. “They can’t fix it. I can’t fix it.”
Taekwoon shushes him. He fluffs Sanghyuk’s sweaty bangs off his forehead before returning both hands to his bleeding arm. The blood soaks through the towel. It paints Taekwoon’s hands. “Sanghyuk,” he says in a tight voice. “You need to tell me about your dad; you need to tell me. You can’t keep me in the dark.”
Sanghyuk finally breaks eye contact. “Hongbin will be here soon. We need to go….” Taekwoon makes to argue, but Sanghyuk says, “And I- I’ll tell you. Not now. Later.”
And that’s as good as he’s going to get.
Taekwoon helps Sanghyuk to his feet, keeping the towel in place, and the younger wobbles. He’s light-headed from the blood loss. Taekwoon feels a burning regret for not taking him to the hospital -- damn Sanghyuk and his father -- but the fear in Sanghyuk’s eyes wasn’t something to question.
“You’re sure this’ll get properly treated?”
Sanghyuk nods, face ashen. He looks terrible, and Taekwoon feels so wrong sending him off like this. He slips Sanghyuk’s phone back into his pocket.
“Call me later.”
Sanghyuk is surprised at the words but nods. “O- okay, hyung.”
Right as they reach double doors of the complex, a dark car peels into the parking lot, screeching on the brakes. Hongbin. Taekwoon’s about to help Sanghyuk out when Sanghyuk pushes at him, making a noise of disapproval. “Stay…here.”
Taekwoon latches on harder.
Hongbin rolls down the driver’s window, motioning furiously with a hand, and Sanghyuk utters a small, “Go. Now.” They exit the building, Sanghyuk walking fast and unbalanced, leaned against Taekwoon. They get to the car, and Taekwoon ushers Sanghyuk inside with Hongbin cursing in the background.
“How could you, you fucking idiot; we almost got killed, and you wind up here? Next time you pull a shit stunt like this I’m gonna leave your ass.”
Sanghyuk ignores him and looks up at Taekwoon with red eyes. “Go inside. We won’t leave until you do.”
Taekwoon blinks at him and looks at Hongbin, who’s fuming at the wheel. Hongbin doesn’t like the lingering. “You heard him; go.”
They’re serious even though Sanghyuk’s bleeding all over the upholstery, and Taekwoon backs away from the car that carries his former student. His worry is escalating now that Sanghyuk’s out of his arms, about to be driven to who-knows-where, all of this under questionable circumstances.
Only when Taekwoon disappears back into the building does the black car lurch into movement, speeding out and onto the road. Taekwoon watches them go.
This is absurd, he thinks. Sanghyuk’s being cryptic, and whatever he’s not being told, Hongbin doesn’t have any wish for it to include Taekwoon. Sanghyuk’s father is part of it; was he the one who hurt Sanghyuk?
Taekwoon steps inside his apartment, locking it behind him, and slides down the shut door to his floor. There’s a fire inside that burns hotter at the thought of Sanghyuk’s parents. If they’re the ones who hurt him…. Taekwoon crumples his hands to fists.
What’s happening to Sanghyuk?
A kitten nudges at the toe of Taekwoon’s shoe. He’s still dressed in work attire and covered in Sanghyuk’s blood, and he needs to change, take a shower, but his nerves and worries have him so tightly wound that all he can do is sit and stare at his floor, at the kitten pawing at his pant leg.
He doesn’t move from the spot until Sanghyuk texts him at ten after eight.
I’m alright.
And Taekwoon can finally breathe.
Taekwoon skips Jaehwan’s next get-together although Jaehwan is threatening to break up with him. He jokes because he knows Taekwoon’s stressed about Sanghyuk -- he’s been filled in on the problem -- and neither of them know what to do about it. So even if Jaehwan wants Taekwoon over, he understands.
Taekwoon sits at his kitchen table, eating the leftovers he reheated in the microwave. There’s a second plate on the table, right now empty, but he’s expecting for any second--
A soft knock on Taekwoon’s door makes him pause.
There it is.
Sanghyuk texted him five minutes ago, letting Taekwoon know he was in the area and stopping by. This came at the end of a slew of reminders for Taekwoon to not open his door for anyone -- no one. don’t answer it for anyone but me. He’s sent these out over the past few days, ever since he arrived with the bloody arm, and Taekwoon is hoping to get a fulfillment of Sanghyuk’s promise tonight.
Taekwoon peers through the hole, and it is Sanghyuk. He unlocks his door and lets him brush inside, immediately taking note that Sanghyuk’s out of his normal, expensive taste. He’s wearing sweatpants and a thin sweat-jacket with the hood pulled over his head.
“Hiding?”
Sanghyuk turns back to look at Taekwoon, eyes wide. “Wh- what?”
It was a joke aimed at Sanghyuk’s hood, but Sanghyuk’s not laughing. And now neither is Taekwoon. “Sit,” he says, clearing his throat. He points at the table.
Sanghyuk does as he’s told.
Taekwoon takes the empty plate and fills it with things from the near-empty containers on the counter, making sure there’s more than enough for him to eat.
Sanghyuk chuckles softly. “I guess you remember what I like.”
Taekwoon flushes as he sticks the plate in the microwave. “Coincidence,” he mutters, but the slight pink on his cheeks says enough. He sits back down at the table and stares across at Sanghyuk. He tries to manage his expression. “How’s your arm?” He asks every time Sanghyuk texts, but he’s never gotten a real answer.
“It’s fine. I got all sewn up, and it’ll be okay as long as I don’t reopen it.”
Taekwoon beats a tune into the tabletop, knowing intuitively that Sanghyuk knows what his unspoken question is. He gets his answer.
“It was a bullet.” Sanghyuk sort of mumbles the words, looking pointedly behind Taekwoon’s head at the microwave’s countdown. “It grazed me pretty bad.”
“Hell, Sanghyuk.” Taekwoon feels dizzy at the confession, trying to imagine Sanghyuk in a bullet’s path. “Why?”
Sanghyuk’s jostling his knee, and it shakes the table, but Taekwoon’s not going to tell him to stop. “Well, uh, what do you want to know?”
Everything. “Just tell me what your life’s like right now.” The beep of the microwave calls Taekwoon out of his seat faster than Sanghyuk. He stirs the rice and fried vegetables and plops the plate in front of younger.
Sanghyuk dives into the food. “Well, uh, I work for my family,” he says between mouthfuls. “My dad owns one of the biggest crime syndicates here in the city. And I’m his only child.”
Taekwoon feels as if someone’s compressing his chest; he sinks back into his seat, linking his fingers before him.
“Hongbin’s parents were offed by him; Hongbin wants revenge.” Sanghyuk shovels more rice into his mouth; Taekwoon’s afraid he’ll choke if he goes any faster. “He needs to be stopped. My, uh, dad, I mean.”
Sanghyuk says it so simply, but Taekwoon can read the tension in him. “How does that make you feel?”
“Awful. Terrible? He’s my dad, and you know he’s been a piece of shit, but….”
“Murder isn’t easy.”
“Not like you’d know.” Sanghyuk’s eyes flash, voice defensive, and oh. He knows. Taekwoon wonders who Sanghyuk’s had to kill. “Besides, he’s suspicious. That’s how I--” his voice falters, and he ceases, using the silence left in his wake to eat.
Taekwoon observes him. “Sanghyuk, who’ve you killed?”
He shrugs, but the bouncing of Sanghyuk’s knee grows more erratic, and Taekwoon doesn’t care if it’s been one or however many -- it’s too much. He looks at Sanghyuk’s arm, hidden by his sweat-jacket sleeve. “So that’s what that is?”
“He…set up a trap for me and Hongbin. We went into the western end to get,” he looks at Taekwoon, “stuff, but he must’ve known somehow because there were all these guys waiting for our car to pull through. They shot me through the window.” Sanghyuk rubs at his hurt bicep. “It’s my left hand, though, so I can still shoot. Small blessings.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“I didn’t even know you could shoot a gun.”
“Yeah, well three years is a long time.” Sanghyuk sighs through his nose and finishes off the rest of the plate. “Thanks,” he mumbles.
Taekwoon hasn’t touched his own food in awhile. “Is that why Hongbin doesn’t want me involved? Does he think I’ll…tell someone?”
“Hongbin doesn’t trust anyone.” Sanghyuk states it like that should console Taekwoon, like Hongbin’s lack of trust would offend him. “He doesn’t get why I’m around you so much.”
“But you’re only telling me all this now.”
“Right.” Sanghyuk’s focus is down on his plate. “I- I guess he thinks this is reckless. My dad’s really,” Sanghyuk’s face twists, “ruthless. I’ve been careful to make sure I haven’t been tailed when I come here, but….”
Taekwoon swallows. His life could be in danger all because of Sanghyuk. “You’re so far safe here,” he says after a moment. “It’s alright.”
“I’m sorry, hyung.”
Taekwoon feigns a smile that he doesn’t feel. “You only call me that when it suits you.” Sanghyuk ducks his head, hiding embarrassment, and Taekwoon’s affection swells up inside him.
He shouldn’t entertain thoughts of him and Sanghyuk. Sanghyuk may be older now, but there’s no way they could ever work. There’s seven years between them that Taekwoon’s counted, over and over, and he’s not really sure how Sanghyuk would even pick him out of all the people he could have. This brings up something in Taekwoon, and he looks at the young man sitting across from him. “Why me?”
Sanghyuk shifts in his seat. “What do you mean?”
“Three years is a long time -- why’d you come to me after everything?” Taekwoon braces himself for the answer, trying to latch down his feelings inside, but knows there’s no way that he can.
Sanghyuk looks like the answer is obvious. “Taekwoon, I missed you.” He flips down his hood and runs his wide hands through his hair. “I shouldn’t have- have kissed you. Not the first time, not the last time. I like you a lot -- I always have -- but it wasn’t right. I just needed to talk to someone outside my life, and I was so happy to see you; this shit is really….” He buries his head into his arms, and Taekwoon can visibly see how much the stress is affecting him.
“Sanghyuk.” Sanghyuk doesn’t look up, just a grunt from his arms to tell Taekwoon he’s listening. “Do you like me?”
The young man goes still and then makes a small nod.
Then that settles it. Taekwoon lets out a slow breath. Sanghyuk’s twenty years old, and there’s no more excuses for Taekwoon to push this away. Past inhibitions of liking Sanghyuk have completely fled; he embraces it now.
“That’s alright,” Taekwoon says, marveling that he’s able to get the words out. “I like you, too.”
Sanghyuk’s head pops up, eyes wide, and he looks stunned. Like he never thought Taekwoon would say yes to him, almost like he expected to be laughed at. He looks like he wants to say so many things, but all he can ask is, “Can I stay the night? I just…. I can’t go home.”
“Stay as long as you like.”
Kindness is extended toward Sanghyuk, and the look in his eyes tells Taekwoon that he’s grasping onto it.
Sanghyuk takes to staying at Taekwoon’s apartment. While Taekwoon goes to teach, Sanghyuk will leave, meet up with Hongbin (what they do is always under wraps, avoided in mumbled excuses), and always be home in time for Taekwoon. He doesn’t stop sending the texts. Reminders to tell Taekwoon to say he doesn’t know Sanghyuk, to not believe strangers if they talk to him, to not talk to strangers, to call him if something comes up, to always text before he leaves school.
It’s like having a very over-protective parent, but Taekwoon does as he’s asked because the fear in Sanghyuk’s eyes never goes away.
Sanghyuk will wait at the complex’s entrance for him, surveying the parking lot, and Taekwoon knows he’s watching out for him, but there’s no way no one couldn’t know where Sanghyuk lays his head down at night. If this is as serious as Sanghyuk says, then someone’s had to see him disappear into the complex day after day. Taekwoon brings this up, but Sanghyuk doesn’t respond. He either is confident in himself, or he just doesn’t know what to do about it.
Taekwoon’s suspecting the latter.
Living with Sanghyuk, despite everything, adds something extra to Taekwoon’s daily life. He’s missed Sanghyuk’s slightly sarcastic humor, the faint traces of silliness under this new version, and there’s nothing better than waking up to a sleep-ruffled Sanghyuk. The first two nights Sanghyuk sleeps on the couch. The rest of them he slips into Taekwoon’s bed, curling up and throwing an arm around the older’s waist, fingers digging into Taekwoon’s hip even in sleep.
It reminds Taekwoon of back when he’d try to get Sanghyuk to practice Chinese vocabulary sheets, and while the boy was distracted, he’d browse around the bedroom, looking at this or that. It would never fail for Sanghyuk to follow him, pulling things out of his hands and holding them close. His stuff.
When he became more familiar with Taekwoon he would let him look at anything he wanted, but now, as Taekwoon stays awake at night with Sanghyuk’s body so close, he knows that he’ll never give this up.
In the quiet one night, Sanghyuk whispers into the top of Taekwoon’s head, into his hair, “I don’t want to kill my dad.” His thumb is rubbing at the back of Taekwoon’s neck, and the older has his face pressed into Sanghyuk’s chest. He was on the verge of sleep, but the rumbles of Sanghyuk’s voice have his attention. “If I do,” he continues, “I’ll have to take his place.”
“Give it to someone else, then.”
Sanghyuk doesn’t answer, instead choosing to comb through the hair at Taekwoon’s neck. They fall asleep like this.
Their third kiss comes on the second morning after Sanghyuk starts to sleep in the same bed. Sanghyuk’s more sure now, more brazen since learning what Taekwoon feels for him, and Taekwoon sinks against his headboard as Sanghyuk pushes their lips together. He manages to work out, “I love you,” between their moving lips, and Taekwoon grips Sanghyuk’s shoulders the tightest he’s ever dared.
He won’t be giving this up either.
It’s a full month and a half before reality fractures their time.
The knock on the door seems to be Sanghyuk’s. Taekwoon shifts the kittens off his lap -- Sanghyuk hasn’t gotten to naming either one -- and pads to the door. It’s a Saturday morning, and Sanghyuk left despite Taekwoon’s plead for him not to. “Just real quick. I need to talk to Hongbin.” And Taekwoon had returned Sanghyuk’s kiss goodbye a little more bitterly to hope that Sanghyuk would feel just how much he disapproves of this.
But the knock on the door remains, and Sanghyuk didn’t text that he was home. Taekwoon, now at the door, is suspicious. He looks through the peephole to see two men, unfamiliar, and before he can back away bullets shatter the doorway. Wood splinters everywhere, and Taekwoon feels the blunt force of bullets hit his body once, twice, three times, and he goes down in a pool of his own blood.
He lays there, feeling everything sap out of him, and he’s not sure how long it is before the neighbors fearfully check, seeing Taekwoon shot up, and he’s not sure how long it is before he’s being moved onto a stretcher, wheeled from his apartment.
He’s in the back of an ambulance, and he’s not sure how long it will be before Sanghyuk realizes something’s wrong.
Swirls of lights and colors drown Taekwoon’s vision, and he slips into darkness. It happens several times. There’s lights then nothing, and Taekwoon is always in a different place each time he comes to. Once, he opens his eyes to Sanghyuk standing over him, eyes wet and breathing hard.
Taekwoon tries to talk to him, to let him know he’s here, but he can’t. The crescents of his eyelids shut before he wants them to, blinking Sanghyuk out.
“I’ll be back.”
Taekwoon knows where he’s going.
A lot of times, Taekwoon doesn’t even fully wake up. It’s this half sort of conscious state, but everything’s still dark; it’s just Taekwoon and his thoughts. He thinks about Sanghyuk a lot, hoping he’s alright, hoping Jaehwan’s not worried, hoping the kittens at home are being taken care of. He so desperately wants to be awake, wants to know if Sanghyuk’s fine. He wants to hold onto his hand and give him strength; he wants to tell Jaehwan how he’s in love with Sanghyuk, that he’s finally surrendered to that.
He wants to wake up.
Taekwoon gets his wish after what seems like an eternity.
A ceiling that’s too white, appliances too stark, and a smell of antiseptic overwhelms Taekwoon, and he whines in response. There’s a touch on the back of his hand and a soft voice. “Hey, you’re awake.”
It’s a bit before Taekwoon can properly look at Sanghyuk, their fingers tangling together around Taekwoon’s I.V. “How do you feel?”
“Awful,” Taekwoon croaks.
Sanghyuk smiles and for the first time in a long time, it looks relieved.
A movement in the corner shows Hongbin, glaring at them, arms crossed, and by the door are two men in suits. People Taekwoon’s never seen. And, the more Taekwoon looks at Sanghyuk, the more he realizes there’s something different about him.
It’s another collection of moments before Taekwoon sees the blood spatters. His skin is scrubbed clean, but his clothes are soaked in dried blood; he smells like death. The shock hits Taekwoon hard. He’s not sure what he expected, but seeing Sanghyuk like this isn’t something he wanted at all.
“It’s okay,” Sanghyuk whispers, bringing the back of Taekwoon’s hand to his lips. He brushes the stray tear that falls from the older’s eye, smiling in all his bloody glory. “I fixed it.”
Taekwoon limps around Jaehwan’s kitchen, heading for the bar stool. Out of the three bullets to hit him, the only one to make permanent damage was the one to his thigh. The nerve suffered for it.
Sanghyuk says he likes Taekwoon’s limp, that it makes him look like the beginnings of a stereotypical wise figure in cartoons -- “You just need gray hair and a beard now.” Taekwoon always smacks him with the nearest available object.
Jaehwan places a pint of ice-cream before him, and neither says a word until Taekwoon’s cellphone buzzes, no doubt that it’s Sanghyuk.
“So he’s the big guy now, is he?”
“Something like that.”
Jaehwan plays with his ice-cream, scooping some and knocking it off and then scooping more and repeating the process. “You got lucky once, Taekwoon; I don’t know if that’ll happen again.”
“I know.”
It’s been three months Taekwoon’s hospitalization, and Sanghyuk still sits on his couch to watch cartoons, and he still burns food on the stove. Taekwoon still chokes it down.
Jaehwan can’t leave the subject alone, though; it’s hard to. “He’s a- a mob boss, and you’re a school teacher -- this is bizarre.” He makes a face. “You can say he’s cute or whatever, but I haven’t fallen completely in love with the whole idea yet.”
“That’s fine.”
Jaehwan frowns.
“He might pass it off to someone else,” Taekwoon shares, thinking about Sanghyuk’s long phone conversations with Hongbin. (“Just do something; I don’t want it.”) “I hope he does.”
Sanghyuk still kisses Taekwoon like he’s the only one -- the most important person to him. “Thank you,” he whispered into the crook between Taekwoon’s neck and shoulder just that morning. “For everything -- thank you so much.” Taekwoon was right; he won’t be letting him go.
The two friends sit together for a long time, and it’s when they’re nearing the end of their pints when Jaehwan says the last thing Taekwoon expected out of all this. “I wonder how Sanghyuk would feel about sharing you,” he muses, slight smile coming back.
With his good leg, Taekwoon kicks Jaehwan in the shin.
-*finger snaps away* B-)