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free (heart) property

Summary:

Hyunwoo and Kihyun have been roommates for a long while, and even though the whole world (and their hearts) tell them otherwise, they're certain they're just roommates.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

The sun is rising from the horizon when Kihyun exits the hospital, his body feeling like lead, his bones heavy and tired. The rays blind him, forcing his eyes into a squint. He sighs outwardly, a pounding in the side of his skull that has been persistent for the past five hours.

He trudges to his car lethargically, breath coming out in laboured puffs, and he wants nothing more than a quick shower, then hit the sack. At least he’ll have the next two days off to be completely knocked out.

Starting his car’s engine, Kihyun takes a short look at his reflection in the rearview mirror, and scowls. He looks like shit. Well, reasonable for a resident who’s been on a fifteen-hour shift.

He feels this pressure in his body, begging to be dispelled, like a frustrating weight in his gut. He needs release, but what he needs is impossible to quell, not when the priority is rest.

The car roars to a start and he jumps a little at the cacophony, and relaxes when it dulls.

*****

“Hey.”

Kihyun blinks, and Hyunwoo is looking at him with sleep still attached to his bleary eyes, and the black-haired man tips his chin. “‘Sup.”

Hyunwoo cringes at the greeting and Kihyun grins like the fool he is. The taller man is in a singlet and boxers and rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes.

“You look horrible,” he comments lightly, the tip of his index finger gesturing carelessly at Kihyun’s whole frame, and the black-haired man is surprised that he has the energy to look affronted.

“I’m tired.” Is the response he offers. Hyunwoo chuckles. “I know, I was just joking. Do you want breakfast?”

Kihyun shakes his head. “Food is the last thing on my mind right now,” he answers, and follows it up with a yawn, and feels the heat of Hyunwoo’s piteous gaze.

“Go to bed.”

Kihyun nods without much strength and Hyunwoo looks concerned, like he’s afraid Kihyun might fall over in the next few seconds. But the black-haired man seems to have more in him than Hyunwoo gives him credit for, and drags his feet as he walks into his room.

The door clicks behind him softly, and Hyunwoo begins his morning routine by washing his face, and with a sharp clip on his belt, Hyunwoo is loaded and ready to go.

He says hi to the middle-aged ahjumma living on their floor, who never fails to fawn over his good looks (much to his embarrassment), pets the dog of the old man down the corridor, greets the little boy on his way to school in the lift.

It all feels normal. Good. Like any other day. And Hyunwoo likes normal. Likes routine. Everything feels nice.

*****

Jooheon is perched on the arm of the sofa as he watches Hoseok play (and fail miserably) at Mario Kart in his valiant battle up against Changkyun. Hyunwoo is grabbing at the neck of a beer, taking in a large gulp at once.

“So. What’s happening with you?” Jooheon asks, desperate to make small talk, because if he has to hear Hoseok and Changkyun squabble one more time about one of them being a ‘cheat’ and ‘stop fucking throwing turtle shells, I swear to God’, he might just lose it.

Hyunwoo looks up at the blonde man, and shrugs. “Nothing much. Same old in, same old out.”

Jooheon deadpans. “No funky business going on for you?” he asks, obviously disappointed that he doesn’t have any saucy or scandalous content, and Hyunwoo laughs, his soft brown hair shifting as he does.

“I wish,” he drawls as he takes another chug from the bottle. “But I’m so busy, and it’s difficult to find someone lately. They’re all so…” he waves a nonchalant arm in the space before him, “mundane.”

Jooheon guffaws. “Right. Coming from you.”

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes and curbs the need to throw a pillow at Jooheon’s face. Just because he gets to have regular sex doesn’t mean he has to hold everyone else to the same standard.

“I just want something like a connection, you know.” Hyunwoo sighs into the mouth of his beer bottle. “Not like a quick fuck. Just… something that means something.”

The blonde leans back, and almost falls off the sofa. He catches himself in time. “Now you’re sounding like Hoseok hyung,” he replies with a scowl, and Hyunwoo shrugs again. Hoseok is too absorbed in trying to kick Changkyun in the side to distract him from the game to pay attention to their conversation.

“And who knows, maybe Hoseok is the smartest one out of us after all. He knows what he’s about,” Hyunwoo notes endearingly, and Jooheon plops himself into the square pillows of the sofa, letting out a groan.

“All of you are so fucking boring, I hate you all.”

And Hoseok seems to have found the best time to tune in (or maybe he’s about to lose to Changkyun and needs an excuse to not have his ass handed back to him), because he puts down his controller and proceeds to throw himself onto Jooheon’s limp frame, squashing the younger man with a grunt, oblivious to Jooheon’s pained cries.

Changkyun screams out a ‘hey!’ when he realises that Hoseok is no longer participating in the game, but pauses the machine, and joins him in torturing Jooheon anyway.

Hyunwoo sits there, beer in hand, and laughs, because his friends are all stupid, and maybe he’s a little boring, a little lonely, but he thinks he’s happy with how things are for now.

*****

“How is it that you manage to look increasingly terrible as the days go by?” Hyunwoo notes casually as Kihyun pulls himself into the flat with dark bags under his eyes. He can barely keep his eyes open, but does bother to frown at Hyunwoo’s poke.

“I didn’t survive a sixteen-hour shift only to be insulted in my own apartment,” he grumbles under his breath, and Hyunwoo laughs. He likes to see Kihyun’s reaction when he makes fun of him. His expressions are amusing despite his fatigue, though he’s always quick to feel bad for the doctor.

“Sorry. You’re funny when you’re mad, that’s all.”

Kihyun rolls his eyes so hard they might roll into the back of his skull. “Well, can you choose a better time to be amused?” he asks, his words slurring together, and today is just one of those shit shifts where there was a code blue on the night where he’s in charge of the entire hospital. The adrenaline only lasted him for so long, and now his bones and muscles feel like they aren’t even attached anymore.

Hyunwoo looks away from the television screen, the umpteenth replay of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and regards Kihyun with slight worry.

“You don’t look so well, Kihyun.”

The younger boy sulks. “You’ve already said that.”

“No, I mean you look like you’re about to pass out.” Sitting upright on the sofa, Hyunwoo makes a move to get up. “Are you fine?”

Kihyun frowns, his pallid skin clammy and cold, and he feels perspiration on his back. He gulps. “I…” he tilts his head to the side, and with a look of bewilderment, shakes his head.

“I don’t… know?”

The movement from his negative response kickstarts a shot of dizziness, and Kihyun holds onto one of their dining chairs for balance. Hyunwoo is up in a split second, and taking long strides across the living room to get to Kihyun.

“Hyunwoo hyung?” It is a small, pitiful sound, and in Kihyun’s head, the world seeming to be thrown onto a merry-go-round, minus the laughter and glee. The shorter man feels his knees give way. He wants to throw up. Or sleep. Or both. He doesn’t know.

When Hyunwoo reaches him in what seems to be about four whole days, when it’s really just about four seconds in their unbelievably affordable and slightly cramped apartment, Kihyun falls.

“Kihyun! Holy shit.” Hyunwoo catches him when he collapses, going straight to pillow his neck first with his arm, and the younger man sinks into it completely, his body heavy and unresponsive.

“Kihyun!” Hyunwoo shakes him by the shoulders, the younger man not twitching his eyelids by even a little bit, and Hyunwoo breathes harsh. Fuck. It’s Saturday night; he really didn’t expect to be spending it nursing his unconscious flatmate back to health because he doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

He pauses, recounting the steps to CPR. The man is still breathing, thankfully, as he can tell from the rise and fall of his chest, and Hyunwoo finds his answer half a minute later when Kihyun begins to snore. Deafeningly.

The brunette sighs, and is tempted to wake Kihyun up if only to give him a beating for being so stupid, but instead he picks the man up in his arms (Kihyun really needs to eat as much as he needs the rest) and stalks over to his room.

The door is ajar, and Hyunwoo kicks it open. It smells like Kihyun. A little woody, mildly spicy, but clean. Hyunwoo thinks the fragrance complements Kihyun perfectly. Letting out a groan, Hyunwoo wobbles as he places the man on his bed softly, the man who now has his mouth wide open as the walls tremor at the increasing decibels.

Wincing, Hyunwoo puts his face away from Kihyun’s, the snores growing louder. It then comes with a sudden stunted snort, an almost-cough, and the snoring returns.

The brunette sighs, pulling the sheets under Kihyun and dropping them on the black-haired man gently, even going as far as to tuck them under his chin.

Hyunwoo wonders if he should try to find out if Kihyun needs to wake up at a certain time tomorrow morning, but deciding that he’s already helped him out in more ways that he’d ever imagined his Saturday to go, he turns around and leaves the room.

The older man flicks the switch, and darkness swallows Kihyun whole.

*****

He wouldn’t really call them friends. Him and Hyunwoo. Their relationship was more of a supply-and-demand, where Hyunwoo’s mother owned the apartment, and thought she was being too nice to Hyunwoo (her own son) for letting him stay in it for free.

Kihyun was a budding resident at the nearby hospital, and while he was perfectly capable of renting an apartment himself, he preferred the proximity of Hyunwoo’s place: a mere four minutes’ walk to the main hospital building.

He also considered the cost efficiency of renting a whole apartment when he does 10-hour shifts at work, where the most important thing he needs at home is a good bed, and decided that a room was good enough for him.

And a room was what he got. He joined a Facebook group for people looking for roommates, and Hyunwoo’s apartment (not Hyunwoo) fit the bill perfectly. He couldn’t care less about the person he was sharing his living space with — he had little intention of becoming chummy with them.

And Hyunwoo is alright, he thinks. He’s reasonably tidy, cleans after himself, stays out of Kihyun’s business, occasionally offers him food, smiles at him really sweetly. And while Kihyun had no initial thoughts of becoming besties with his new roommate, he thinks Hyunwoo is acceptable company, and he’s not too mad at flashing him a short grin from time to time, or sitting at the dining table eating together, because he gets to pay only half of the delivery fee.

So living with Hyunwoo isn’t all that bad, after all.

But he wouldn’t really call them friends, which is why the next morning, after a whopping 12-hour sleep, Kihyun is mildly surprised to find out that Hyunwoo has prepared some sandwiches on the dining table with a sticky note:

Made you some food. Eat.

And Kihyun stares at it again and again. Then he realises why he’s staring and not eating; he hates peanut butter.

Rolling his eyes, he internally thanks Hyunwoo for his kind gesture, but also that he’d unfortunately have to give the sandwiches a pass, because kind gesture or not, Kihyun is not putting peanut butter anywhere near his lips.

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

You made me breakfast?
That’s so sweet
One might even think you were interested in me

 

From: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

Yes
It’s just breakfast, Kihyun
It’s not so deep
Also the next time you decide to pass out, some warning would be nice

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

What does that even mean????
You’re at the station?

 

From: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

Yeah
Eat the food?

 

Sure, Kihyun is a doctor and he’s compassionate and empathetic, but this is also Hyunwoo who deals with crooks on a daily basis, a man who’s more than capable of tolerating Kihyun and his frequent lack of tact.

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

I don’t eat peanut butter

 

From: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

Oh
Allergic?

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

No I just don’t eat it
Tastes like the creamier version of a nut

 

From: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

That’s… literally what it is

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

It tastes ugh

 

From: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

Anyone ever told you you were an ungrateful brat?

 

To: Son Hyunwoo Flatmate

:)
More often than you would think

 

Hyunwoo takes another brief look at his screen and snorts, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. His partner emerges from the bathroom and with a hike of his brow, they’re on their way to do their morning patrol around the neighbourhood.

It’s not Hyunwoo’s favourite thing to do, but it’s that or sticking around at the station filing complaints from old ladies about their noisy neighbours, and he’d rather take the exercise.

As he ducks into the passenger seat, he finds himself thinking of Kihyun in his arms last night. He looked so… frail. Which was a strange concept, considering Kihyun is potentially the strongest person Hyunwoo has ever known.

Not physically, of course; the man was small and slim and looked like the wind could blow him away in the next instant. No, Kihyun was a man of resilience. He had high EQ, a logical intellect, a keen eye for detail and just an immense amount of grit and passion in what he did, and Hyunwoo finds that commendable.

Yet in all his strength, Kihyun finds the time and effort to also be caring (though not directed towards Hyunwoo, because God knows Kihyun doesn’t mingle with folks like Hyunwoo) and understanding, and he just seemed to possess all the elements Hyunwoo had always wished his personality encapsulated.

So for the person that Kihyun is, to see him looking so vulnerable and defenceless, Hyunwoo suddenly realises that he’s unsure as to how he should approach it. Him.

He doesn’t even know why he’d thought to prepare another serving of his own breakfast for Kihyun. They obviously don’t know each other well enough, as evident from his food choice, and Kihyun’s temperamental behaviour normally didn’t warrant Hyunwoo’s kindness.

So Hyunwoo tries to muster some lousy excuse. He is a police officer — his role is to protect and defend, right? So he sweeps his abnormal act of goodwill under the carpet, calls it an occupational hazard, as an instinct, his need to take care of people his overarching argument.

Doesn’t help explain the little ache in his chest, but that one’s been there ever since he’s set eyes on Kihyun, so he disregards it, as usual.

*****

“It’s nice to see you not on the brink of exhaustion for once,” Hyunwoo says as he walks down the hallway, and Kihyun stares up at him from a bag of potato chips.

“Good evening to you, too.”

The older man stares at the screen, and of course it’s a marathon — Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is on, and Kihyun’s eyes are glued to the telly.

“Did you have good rest?” Hyunwoo asks, even though he doesn’t know why. Kihyun snarfs the crisps down and nods, humming something like a ‘yeah man’.

“You literally passed out on me yesterday,” the brunette comments, removing his backpack and pulling out his uniform to throw into the laundry.

Kihyun sits back up on the sofa and tucks his legs to his front, taking a small look at Hyunwoo from the corner of his eye. His cheeks are stuffed with the snack, and blinks.

“Oops?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know why he tolerates him. Kihyun is self-righteous and unapologetic, and apparently very, very shameless.

The older man sniffs and pushes his fringe back. He doesn’t really know what is an appropriate response to that, so he just blurts out an ‘uh’ and ducks back into the laundry room, wondering if he should be loading the clothes.

Eh, it can wait for another day or two, he thinks as he takes a sniff of his uniform and decides to wear it for another day before washing. Kihyun’s eyes are trained on him instead of the movie, and he feels the laser-like burn on his skin. Clearing his throat, he straightens back up and makes his way to his room.

“Uh,” Kihyun says as Hyunwoo is almost at his door, the older man spinning around to look at the younger, and there is a smidgen of redness on the tips of his cheeks. He wonders if the both of them will stop acting all awkward and stiff around each other.

From the looks of it, it doesn’t seem all that optimistic.

“I made some marinated crab. It’s in the fridge. You can have some, if you want.” Kihyun is looking but not really looking at Hyunwoo, and the policeman blinks a couple of times to digest the new information.

He seems embarrassed, for some reason. Which is silly, because Hyunwoo isn’t the kind to say no to food, and he’d appreciate the gesture more than anything else.

“Wow. That’s… nice. Thanks for offering. I’ll have some in a bit.”

The both of them don’t state the obvious — that this is perhaps the longest conversation they’ve shared in the past couple of months living together. (And this is perhaps Kihyun’s first time initiating anything more than a ‘you ordering Chinese?’. The embarrassment seems well-founded now.)

“Sure.” Kihyun turns and plops back onto the sofa, folding his legs together and grabbing another handful of crisps. Sirius Black is having an impassioned speech in the movie and Hyunwoo is not sticking around to watch it (because then he’d need to stay up till it ends, and then watch the next ones playing in the coming few nights for some proper closure).

When Hyunwoo closes the door behind him, Kihyun lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his face still burning a bright red. Thank God Hyunwoo isn’t allergic to seafood or crustaceans.

He’s spent the whole afternoon slogging over those crabs as thanks for Hyunwoo not leaving him in the middle of the freezing hallway (they may not be strangers, but they aren’t exactly friends, either, and if Hyunwoo had chosen to do that, Kihyun wouldn’t have had a problem with it), but of course he will be the last person to know of Kihyun’s struggles wrestling with the ten-legged creature. He’s playing it cool. It’s his approach.

Though with the way his cheeks are blazing a fiery red, he’s unsure of how realistic this approach is, after all.

It’s just his body reacting, he tells himself. After all, days and nights at the hospital have successfully drained out every bit of free time he had to get laid, and Hyunwoo is an attractive man with muscles in all the right places.

He returns to the movie and blocks out images of his flatmate naked.

*****

Perhaps the marinated crabs were just that good, or perhaps the wall between them was properly pulled apart with the excuse of food.

They still talk about dinner and takeouts, and conversations are still somehow limited to the mundane, but sometimes Kihyun compliments Hyunwoo on a new shirt he’s bought, and Hyunwoo sometimes grabs the plates in the top cupboard for Kihyun when he has the day off and has decided to cook.

Kihyun is a good cook, and anyone who knows Hyunwoo knows that the way to his heart is most certainly through his stomach, and something tells him that Kihyun enjoys preparing dinner for the both of them.

He’s a doctor, right? He likes taking care of people, doesn’t he? Hyunwoo doesn’t read too much into his change in behaviour because it’s easier to pretend that Kihyun is doing this out of professionalism, as an occupational hazard, the same way Hyunwoo finds himself caring a little too much for Kihyun in that regard.

He receives a text from Kihyun asking if he’ll be home for dinner, and Hyunwoo says no — he’s going to one of Jooheon’s gigs today and is looking to fill his gut with booze and snack nuts from the bar.

Kihyun replies with an ‘oh ok’ with no ‘kkk’ or ‘hhh’ or emoticons in his message, and Hyunwoo frowns a little. But he promises to not read into his behaviour, so he stuffs his phone back into his pocket, and shrugs before leaving for his patrol.

*****

The apartment is entirely bathed in darkness when he returns, and Hyunwoo turns on a light, squinting as his eyes adjust to the brightness. His limbs feel like lead. Jooheon’s gig was a huge success, and he’d gone home with a very gorgeous lady. Hyunwoo, on the other hand, can only think about burying himself head first into his mattress and snooze the night away.

As he looks around the living area tiredly, Hyunwoo jumps and lets out a squeak when he sees a smaller figure hunched over the coffee table, a head of black hair messy.

The policeman clicks his tongue as he approaches, and realises Kihyun has his laptop in front of him, a sea of words of what appears to be a clinical research study report, and his cheek is mushed against his forearm, his glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose.

He’s breathing evenly, eyes closed, eyelashes long and fanned over his skin. Hyunwoo turns to look at the clock in the living room — 2:35AM. A completely unreasonable time for him to still be awake, considering he has a morning shift coming up, and needs to be up at 5AM.

(One of the things about making more conversation with the resident is that he now has a good idea of his schedule.)

And Hyunwoo may be tired, but Kihyun is most certainly going to strain his neck if he sleeps in this position, so he nudges him lightly, careful to not scare him.

“Kihyun. Kihyun?”

It’s 2:30 — Hyunwoo is a state of delirium, but Kihyun’s lips are cherry red and thin and soft, and Hyunwoo finds blood pumping through him in a frantic beat, his heart hammering against his chest in strange palpitations. It’s stupid — it’s just Kihyun.

“Kihyun?” Hyunwoo calls again, and the next idea that pops into his mind is so stupid : if he doesn’t wake up, maybe I could get away with kissing him and him not knowing?

There is a groggy ‘huh’, and Kihyun’s eyelids flitter open a couple of times, Hyunwoo mentally berating himself for even considering that and how utterly inappropriate and impolite that would have been.

“Go back to bed. Why are you even up?” Hyunwoo’s voice is gentle, the kind that sounds soothing and caring at the wee hours of the morning, and Kihyun properly looks at him with sleepy eyes.

“Dunno. Reading up. Fell asleep. Thought you were gonna be back sooner.” It’s 2:30 — Kihyun is in a deeper state of delirium than Hyunwoo is, and he knows he’s told himself to not read too much into it, but it sounds almost like Kihyun had been waiting up for him, which is a ludicrous concept.

“Sorry, Jooheon did encore after encore, and I couldn’t not stay.”

Why is he sorry? He’s a grown man; he’s allowed to come home as and when he prefers, and he doesn’t have to answer anything to Kihyun.

The question branches out: what would Kihyun have done if Hyunwoo had found someone to go home with? Would he have been sleeping on his arm, pulling on all his muscles, waiting for Hyunwoo to return, only to be disappointed when he wakes up in the morning?

It’s too many questions to deal with at this time, so Hyunwoo pushes them to the back of his mind aggressively.

“Iz ok,” Kihyun says, his syllables slurring together, and his fingers go to his laptop automatically, sliding across the touchpad as he turns it off. He stretches out his limbs like a kitten as Hyunwoo watches, and smiles as he looks up at Hyunwoo with his eyes almost closing. “You sound like you had fun.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. “I did.” And it was fun. It’s been awhile since Hyunwoo let himself loose, and soaked in the atmosphere of bodies gyrating against his on the sweaty dancefloor.

“Come on now. Let’s get you into bed.” Hyunwoo stretches out a hand, and Kihyun stares at it for a long second. “I’m not a child,” he rebukes, but puts his hand in Hyunwoo’s anyway, lets the brunette pull him to his feet.

Silence encapsulates them, and there is a buzz between them, electricity coursing through all of Hyunwoo, his lips tingling. He looks so pretty under the fluorescent light, casting harsh iridescence on his skin, and his almond eyes are half their regular size, soft and sleepy.

It breaks when Kihyun’s pink lips start to move. “I have to be up early tomorrow,” he whispers, and Hyunwoo blinks a few times before nodding. “Of course!” A little too loud. “Of course,” he replies in lower decibels, and Kihyun nods along.

“Uh.” His hand is still in Hyunwoo’s, and their bodies are still painfully close to each other’s, prompting a tight ache in Hyunwoo’s torso, numbness radiating to his fingers. “Sorry,” he pulls away, and Kihyun smiles, shoulders moving up and down.

“It’s okay. I… uh. Goodnight, I guess?” Kihyun suggests, bending down to pick up his laptop and tucks it under his arm, and Hyunwoo doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he stuffs them into his pocket.

“Yeah. Yeah. Goodnight, Kihyun.”

When Hyunwoo returns to his room smelling like cigarettes, vodka, and the cologne of a man he’d made out with briefly in the restroom, Hyunwoo wonders how none of the events of the night have made him feel as exhilarated as the moment he’d shared with Kihyun just then.

*****

Minhyuk is humming some song that has been an earworm for the past week, and Kihyun has barely just gotten it out of his head, only to be forced to welcome it back with Minhyuk’s singing.

He groans. Hyungwon snickers next to them, his hands busy as well. The three high school friends have an alumni meeting in the coming week, and they have been tasked with preparing the table gifts for the event.

(Volunteered by artist Lee Minhyuk who had seen it as a free marketing ploy for his artworks, only he hadn’t considered the sheer enormity of the dinner, and how they now have more than a few hundred bobs and bits to paste on other bits and bobs.)

“You have such steady hands, Ki,” Minhyuk says, supposedly as a compliment, but Kihyun doesn’t really take it gracefully, the way he never does.

“I’m planning to be a surgeon. It’s a given.”

Hyungwon clicks his tongue. “Just take the damn compliment, asshole.”

He sulks, but does return to the work wordlessly, and it’s peaceful and quiet, until Minhyuk pipes up. Why can’t people have nice things, such as proper silence without the intrusion of a Lee Minhyuk’s mouth?

“So. You’ve been staying at home a lot lately,” Minhyuk says, like it’s a normal observation, and Kihyun rolls his eyes.

“What are you trying to say?” The sequin is pressed into the mould and the shiny object glimmers.

“Nothing. Just that you used to go out a lot. You know, clubbing, sleeping in different beds. That kind of stuff,” Minhyuk replies.

“Why are you talking about my lack of promiscuity like it’s a bad thing?”

“It’s not a bad thing!” He flails, and stabs the tiny jewel a little too hard, “I’m just curious what prompted the change.”

Kihyun sighs. “Life? When you become a resident all you have time for is work and arts and crafts with your 26-year-old friends.”

Hyungwon guffaws at the response, and Kihyun finds the ends of his lips pulling up. They’re stupid, but he loves them a lot, and when Minhyuk pouts in indignation, he and Hyungwon laugh again.

“Plus, even if I had the time, I don’t think I’ll have the energy.”

Minhyuk frowns. “Are you experiencing a dip? Couldn’t you just smuggle some pills from the hospital?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes so hard his sockets hurt. “I’m not experiencing a dip. I am also not a drug peddler, and certainly not for aphrodisiacs.” He lets out an exasperated breath. “Jesus, Minhyuk, what goes on in that head of yours?”

“Just a suggestion,” he says quietly, then, “are you sure it’s not because of your hot roommate?”

Kihyun’s brows furrow, and kneads the mould gently in his hands. “What.”

“Hyungwoo, or something?” he thinks about it for a second, and says, “he’s smoking, that one,” following it up with a low whistle.

Hyungwon barks out his laughter, and Kihyun is growingly annoyed at his friend. “It’s Hyunwoo, and you’ve barely even seen him.”

Minhyuk cocks up a brow. “I’ll remember a hottie when I see one.” A pause. “So you’re not interested in him?”

“No I’m —”

“You’re not sleeping with him?”

“Lee. Min. Hyuk.” He spits out the name between gritted teeth, and the blonde puts both his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, sorry, sorry. I didn’t know it was gonna piss you off.”

The atmosphere turns a little cold from there, and Kihyun is silent throughout. Hyungwon pipes up from time to time, but they don’t talk about Hyunwoo anymore.

His steady hands slip and he ruins one of the pieces, and Minhyuk tells him it’s okay, that he can just start over again.

If only he could just start over again with all things and relationships with people.

*****

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” Jooheon asks, resting his chin in his hands, elbows on the counter. Hyunwoo is typing his report into the computer, flipping through his notes from time to time.

“Nah. I think I’ll give it a pass,” Hyunwoo says, his index finger tracing the lines of the paperwork to make sure he doesn’t miss one, and Jooheon frowns.

“Why? Plans?”

The police officer shrugs. “Yeah, guess you could say that.” He’s distracted, so the truth comes out in a spill, “I told Kihyun I would be back for dinner.”

Jooheon makes a face, his lower lip curling down. “Huh.”

Hyunwoo hums an approval, and Jooheon lets out a small huff of confusion. “Do you… are you chummy with him now?”

The brunette looks up at him, and considers the question for half a minute. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

“I thought you said you weren’t exactly the kind of person he’d want to hang out with.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. “It sure came off that way. He’s a little cold with strangers, but apparently I was wrong. Dunno. I just thought I was very different as compared to his friend who came to visit once.”

Realising that he’s stopped typing altogether, Hyunwoo returns to his report, and Jooheon’s questions don’t seem to stop there. “And you guys make plans to have dinner together? He cooks?”

Hyunwoo nods, his brain having a little trouble with comprehending the words on the screen.

“You do realise how weird that sounded, right? That you couldn’t grab some food because you told him you were going to be back for dinner.”

“What —”

“It’s almost like he’s your mum. Or your… partner.”

His eyes flutter open and shut uneasily, and lines form on his forehead, report forgotten once more.

“That’s ridiculous,” he finally settles on, but he knows Jooheon is right, and he’s struggling to convince anyone otherwise.

Jooheon seems to realise the exact same thing, so he doesn’t push, just snorts and replies with an ‘alright then, I’ll see you around’ before leaving the precinct, and Hyunwoo is left with his own thoughts spiralling in uneasy circles.

He’s not really spared much thought about how much closer he and Kihyun have become, almost like a domesticated kind of affection boiling between the two where he slots himself easily into a living situation with Kihyun and melds into his environment.

He’s been living with Kihyun for months now, contented with being civil with each other and not bothering him with his own likes and dislikes, never once considering how easy it would be for him to not just live around him, but with him.

The intimacy doesn’t bother him, but how naturally he manages to fit into it does, just a teeny tiny bit.

He still returns to dinner with Kihyun that evening, and Kihyun makes his favourite stewed beef ribs. They’re seated before a table of scrumptious food, and when Kihyun scoops gravy into his bowl of rice, he wonders about the small ball of warmth at the pit of his stomach rising to his chest.

*****

Being a resident means Kihyun earns a reasonable wage. It’s not a lot, not enough for him to buy a BMW, but enough for him to rent an entire apartment on his own without sharing a space with someone else.

It’s nearing the end of his lease, and Hyunwoo is normally not the kind to keep an eye on things like that, especially since Kihyun is more a tenant of his mother’s apartment than his, but he’s suddenly acutely aware of there being less than two months till the end of his rental agreement.

What is the emotion that strikes him so suddenly? He can’t pinpoint it, but it may be what he considers the closest to disappointment. And maybe he thinks it’s a pity that he and Kihyun hadn’t made the best of their first few months as flatmates.

Now that his lease is ending, surely he must be looking to move to another place, one where he doesn’t need to cook dinner for another person, or have Hyunwoo leave his socks in the living room.

They’re friends. The least he can do is to offer him a drink and wish him the best. He has a feeling he won’t be seeing Kihyun after all of this, and it brings a little sting to his heart that he promptly ignores.

*****

“Hey, isn’t your lease ending?” Minhyuk questions, lounging on Hyungwon’s sofa lazily, flipping through the channels thoughtlessly.

“Yeah,” Kihyun says, busying himself with his laptop, “next month.”

“Have you started looking for other places?” Hyungwon is at the foot of the sofa, browsing through his phone tiredly, and Minhyuk kicks him softly, just because he can. Hyungwon glares at him, but is otherwise silent.

Kihyun shakes his head. “Not really. I don’t think I want to move just yet.”

His phone vibrates, and it’s a text message from Hyunwoo, telling him about an old man that was dancing enthusiastically to a trot song in the middle of the park, which was all fine until he started to strip his clothes off.

Kihyun muffles a laugh, and replies ‘LOL that’s hilarious’ before putting his phone down.

The next message was ‘do you want a picture’, and Kihyun quickly replies with a ‘do u even need to ask’, and Minhyuk is looking at all of this with his eagle eyes.

“Why?”

Kihyun presses his lips together. “What do you mean why? I’m happy with the status quo; the hospital is minutes away, there’s a convenience store round the corner, the place has a huge kitchen, and I have my own toilet.” As an afterthought, “and the rent is pretty decent.”

Minhyuk nods, but something tells Kihyun he isn’t convinced. “So you’re going to keep living with someone else?”

“What’s wrong with Hyunwoo?” Kihyun asks, though he’s aware that that’s not the question. “He’s nice,” he adds, and Minhyuk blinks a couple of times before staring at him again. Hyungwon, as he always does, is listening in to their conversation all while looking absolutely uninterested.

“My parents are nice, but I would never want to live with them longer than I absolutely need to,” Minhyuk retorts, and then his face lights up. “Unless, of course, you want to keep living with Hyunwoo because you see him as more than a roommate or a friend, in that case I totally called it!” He wedges his toes in Hyungwon’s side and clicks his tongue in annoyance when Hyungwon ignores him entirely.

“I’m just being practical,” Kihyun retaliates, and Minhyuk makes mocking ‘blah blah blah’ sounds and rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you say, Ki.”

*****

The Emergency Department is busy, but not as busy as Friday nights filled with drunk drivers and druggies.

Kihyun is tending to a man complaining of a severe migraine when there is a scurry of footsteps whooshing into Resus, and Kihyun doesn’t think much of it.

It isn’t until a nurse ushers him to the newbie with an urgent voice, a constant ‘sorry Dr Yoo, we really need you here for a moment’ does he find himself at the foot of the hospital bed, and there he is, the familiar face of a Son Hyunwoo in his uniform, his eyes shut tight and his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s balling his hands into fists.

“This is Officer Son Hyunwoo, 26, male, police officer of the Gangnam City Local Police Station. He was on patrol in the district when he caught sight of a robber and gave chase. There is a laceration of approximately 10 cm on his abdomen from a knife the robber was carrying, and he was stabbed in the lower abdomen multiple times…”

The paramedic’s voice fades slowly into a whisper, and the resident struggles to listen. It’s not easy; Kihyun’s heart is in his throat, hammering violently, blocking off most of his ability to speak. Hyunwoo’s lips are pale, redness seemingly vanished, perspiration dotting his hairline. His skin is cold and clammy to the touch, and the younger man’s hands begin to tremble.

Keeping his cool, Kihyun uses his calmest voice to ask for the nurses to fetch him several things, and orders for a blood test and imaging scans to be done stat.

He flits around busily, making sure that the blood is no longer gushing out in volumes and that there is no urgent need for a surgery, and allows himself two seconds to breathe.

It’s all he lets himself take before he tends to Hyunwoo again, and feels all the air leave him when his lips start to move.

The resident stands next to him and looks over the bed. His breathing comes out in short puffs, and Kihyun frowns. Hyunwoo knits his eyebrows together in obvious discomfort, and Kihyun leans over to hear what he has to say.

Instead, the patient opens his eyes just slightly, light washing into his sight, and his voice is paper-thin, like if he breathed any louder, it’ll cover up the sound of his talking.

“Kihyun?”

The doctor presses his lips together. “Hey, hyung. How are you feeling?”

His whole head is filled with beeps and zaps and the sound of feet and people running around, but he sucks in a deep breath again, and Hyunwoo is barely looking at him with his eyes half-closed.

“Dizzy. Hurts.”

Kihyun swallows. “Mmm. Your blood pressure is very low. We’re putting you on some fluids. I’ll have a blood test in a bit to determine if you need any bloods. Where does it hurt?”

“Tummy,” he replies softly, but his eyelashes are quivering, and Kihyun thinks he might lose him to unconsciousness in just a bit, so he shakes him by the shoulder gently, and the officer opens his eyes in surprise.

“Sorry. Please try to stay awake for me? I’ll get you something for the pain.”

He mouths “okay” weakly, but Kihyun knows he’s struggling, his forehead creasing tightly. His thumb rubs circles in Hyunwoo’s shoulder, and he orders for painkillers on IV.

People rush in and out. Hyunwoo has his bloods taken, nurses scampering to make sure he’s okay, requesting for his scans to be done as soon as possible. The registrar from Emergency arrives and Kihyun listens as he speaks, nodding his head from time to time, but his gut twists.

He’s seen plenty of these cases — the Emergency Department is laden with them, but the fact that his flatmate is the one sleeping on that bed makes him squirm.

He’s never seen Hyunwoo like this. He looks tiny beneath the white sheets, his whole frame seemingly engulfed by the fabric. Kihyun doesn’t know what to think — he’s never even imagined Hyunwoo in this situation, even though he’s aware that Hyunwoo’s occupation puts him in the way of a constant crossfire.

And sure, he and Hyunwoo are friends, the loosest definition of that word — Kihyun can only be narrowly described as ‘the man who makes dinner for his flatmate because he likes taking care of people and Hyunwoo likes having home-cooked food’, and maybe they talk about their work and text often, and perhaps Kihyun refuses invitations for drinks on evenings where he and Hyunwoo have a movie marathon scheduled, but that’s it.

They’re not any more than that, that friendliness, that slowly warming up from being so impossibly awkward with each other. Friends care for each other.

They do. And Kihyun obviously cares for Hyunwoo, as a friend. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

(So why does his stomach flip at the sheer thought of Hyunwoo not being around anymore?)

This is not the time for him to be all up in his head, wondering what sort of significance they’ve started to sprout in each other’s lives. Today, he isn’t Kihyun the Flatmate. Today he’s Dr Yoo, his doctor, and he may be just a measly resident, but still the first contact to saving his life.

So he braces himself and tries to think of Hyunwoo as just another one of his patients.

But he can’t help holding Hyunwoo’s cold hand by his bedside, and looks as the police officer mumbles his name in a feverish state, so earnestly, as if it were a plea, as if Kihyun did in fact hold his life in his hands.

And perhaps he did, and when Hyunwoo wraps his large hand around Kihyun’s smaller one, his entire body relaxes, sinks back into the bed. Kihyun places the boulder that’s been on his shoulders since Hyunwoo entered on the ground.

*****

“How are you doing?” Hoseok’s voice is laced with worry, Changkyun and Jooheon in tow, sticking their tiny heads into the ward even before entering.

“Hyung!” Jooheon exclaims, like he might burst into tears the next second. Hoseok is silent; Hyunwoo has always been Jooheon’s favourite hyung, after all. They huddle around his bedside and looks as Hyunwoo smiles weakly.

“Still alive,” says it like a joke, though no one appreciates the humour. “Apparently there’s a fair bit of internal bleeding so they fixed me up in surgery. I haven’t been awake for long.”

Jooheon looks worried. “Surgery? Must have hurt.”

Changkyun presses his lips together, part annoyance, part worry. “There’s anaesthesia, hyung.”

The blonde looks up at him and pulls a face, and the atmosphere seems to lighten by a notch. Hoseok laughs, and ruffles Jooheon’s messy locks, and even Changkyun breaks into a small smile, shaking his head. Trust Jooheon to always be the energiser in trying times.

“But how are you feeling?” Hoseok asks, eyebrows knitted together, and Hyunwoo doesn’t know why the emotion overwhelms him so suddenly, but he thinks about how lucky he is.

His long-time friend wears concern all over his face, as is with every feeling his big heart has the ability to feel, and Hyunwoo grins. It’s tight, because his abdomen still hurts, but he can tell the way Hoseok eases up immediately upon seeing his smile.

“Just a little groggy. And it still hurts a bit, but otherwise, tip-top.”

Changkyun rolls his eyes. “You got stabbed multiple times. Tip-top is not really an acceptable word choice right now.”

Jooheon snorts. “Sorry, Changkyun gets pedantic when he’s upset or stressed.”

“I’m not being pedantic.”

“He’s gotten a few stabs in his stomach and you want to debate on word choice. Give the man a break.”

Changkyun huffs but otherwise stays silent, because he does have the tendency to be sensitive when his worry runs an all-time high. They stay for a while longer as they stare at Hyunwoo’s heavy eyelids start to fall on their own, and Jooheon is still letting his thumb run over his hyung’s knuckles.

It’s comforting and soothing and lulling him into sleep, so he lets slumber drag him down, slinking into unconsciousness. Just as he’s about to take the plunge, the door swings open, and Jooheon pulls his hand away from Hyunwoo in surprise.

The brunette frowns at the sudden movement and cracks open an eye to see a flustered Kihyun by the door in his scrubs, his almond eyes blinking once, twice, owlish and curious, and maybe even a little scared.

“H-hi, sorry, I’m just here to make sure everything’s okay. I’m a resident, my name is Kihyun, nice to meet you all.” The looks of utter disbelief are still directed towards him, so he laughs awkwardly and wriggles his toes in his shoes uneasily. “Are you his family?”

Hoseok seems to be the only adult in the room capable of holding proper conversations that don’t just consist of opening their mouths wide like they’ve just seen an extraterrestrial creature.

“Oh, no, no, we’re just his friends. Kihyun, was it? We hear a lot about you. You’re his flatmate, aren’t you?”

Oh, so that’s why they look like Kihyun just grew a second head. “Ah, yes, hello. You must be…” “Hoseok.”

“Hoseok, right.”

He reaches out to shake his hand, and the taller man nods, lips pulling up as he shakes his hand firmly. The two younger men continue to stare at Kihyun until Hoseok clears his throat, and Changkyun stands up straight.

“I’m Changkyun.”

“And I’m Jooheon.”

Kihyun bows again, mouthing a soft hi as they do the same. The room freezes for an entire two seconds before Kihyun mutters a right under his breath, and takes a pump from the hand sanitiser by the door before walking towards the bed.

“Hey Kihyun.” Colour seeps back into his cheeks, rosy and warm, but his lips are still a tad paler than usual, and Kihyun relaxes into a smile, a soft, concerned one. “Hey hyung,” he says on an exhale, voice strained from his hectic work schedule, his eyes tired and droopy. “Are you feeling alright?”

The older man’s hair shuffles against the white pillow. “The stitches still hurt.”

Kihyun nods, his expression morphing into a serious one. “Okay. I think I’ve charted you for some painkillers, but I’ll check with the nurses to see if they’ve administered a dose recently. If it’s not doing much I might consider increasing the dose or changing the medication, okay?”

The breath that exits his lips is a little huffy, and Hyunwoo strains all the muscles in his face to chuckle. “Just go ahead and do your doctor stuff.”

Kihyun resists the urge to scowl, but the warmth sloshing in Hyunwoo’s eyes makes him break into a small smile. “Okay,” he whispers, chewing on his lower lip. He wants so painfully to run his fingers through his brown hair, but his friends are here, and Kihyun is Dr Yoo, Hyunwoo’s doctor and flatmate.

“I’ll come back to see you in a bit, if you want?” Kihyun asks, and it’s unlike him to question his own actions repeatedly, but he’s also treading on thin ice around Hyunwoo for some reason, like they’ve returned to being flatmates, not friends.

Does a friendship hierarchy exist, where friends of a single person are categorised into ranks depending on the times they’ve appeared in their life?

“Okay.”

Kihyun flashes him a tiny smile, one where he shows his teeth, and he lifts his head to look at Hyunwoo’s guests, nodding slightly. “I’ll be back in the evening. Get some rest.”

He exits the ward, feeling a little better knowing that Hyunwoo is well, and denies the possibility that he’s been on tenterhooks his entire shift worrying about how he is.

Because they’re just friends. And now before his friends, he’s just his flatmate, and flatmates don’t care for each other in such a way that makes his gut twist at work and makes him snap at everyone who’s had more questions to ask than necessary.

*****

Hyunwoo assures Kihyun that he’s fine and that he can go back to the apartment himself, but Kihyun is having none of it, even taking a day off (he never takes a day off) just to accompany him on his discharge, since his friends are busy, and his parents…

Kihyun doesn’t know about Hyunwoo in that way. He cooks for him and cleans up after him occasionally, but they don’t talk about their family like that. He doesn’t know if Hyunwoo has any siblings, if his parents live nearby, if Hyunwoo has even told them about his hospital admission. He knows that Hyunwoo is the son of the owner of the flat, and that’s about it.

It’s fine; they’re flatmates. This isn’t pivotal to their daily lives; why should Kihyun have privy to information like this about Hyunwoo?

When he finally tucks Hyunwoo back into bed despite the older man’s constant refusal, Kihyun sits on the side of his bed and looks at him, the brunette still fidgeting under his sheets.

“Please just sleep.”

“Kihyun. I’ve done nothing but sleep all day in the hospital. Those drugs make me drowsy. Now I can do a bunch of stuff I’ve been putting off.”

The doctor crosses his arms. “Like what?”

“Like do the laundry.”

“Nope.”

“Like sweep the floor.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Maybe like, I don’t know, clean my table.”

“It’s clean.”

Hyunwoo frowns. “What do you mean it’s clean? It’s never clean.”

And when he turns his head to the side, he realises that the documents he’s had scattered all over his table and floor are in a neat pile on the side. The floor is squeaky clean, and his laundry is sitting in a folded stack by his door.

His eyes widen, then he turns back round slowly with a crease between his brows. “Kihyun…”

“Sorry, I know this is your space. I shouldn’t have come in, but you were going to come back from the hospital and there was a ton of stuff on the ground so I wanted to make sure it was, you know, accessible.”

There is a small moment of silence.

“And also I clean up a lot when I’m stressed. It’s like —”

“A thing you do, I know.”

Kihyun lifts his eyes to look at him, then back down. He seems surprised that Hyunwoo has caught on to his little habit.

Hyunwoo sighs, Kihyun kneading his fingers. “I’m not mad that you cleaned up my room. It’s — it’s nice, really. It’s just. You’re so busy at work as it is. You don’t need to do this for me.”

Kihyun’s heart drops a little. The words ‘I didn’t need to, I wanted to’ linger on his lips, but he doesn’t say them.

“Okay. I’ll, uh, keep that in mind,” is what he goes for instead. He presses on the back of his hand gently. “And for someone who actually keeps the common spaces tidy and cleans up after himself, your room was like a hurricane went through it.”

Hyunwoo snickers. “You win some, you lose some. I just didn’t think it was polite to have you deal with my messy self in our shared areas, but my own cave? All hell breaks loose here.”

Kihyun chuckles, shaking his head slowly. “Tell me about it,” he mutters softly, and when Hyunwoo lifts his gaze to look at Kihyun’s cheeks turning pink, he finds himself unable to look away.

They stay there looking at each other for another long second, the sounds of their breathing exchanged between them, before Kihyun clears his throat and stands up abruptly, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Anyway, uh, get some rest.”

Hyunwoo makes a move to push himself away from his pillows. “Kihyun —”

“I’ll order something soupy for you. Just, uh, try not to move around too much.”

“Ki —”

He exits the room with a click of the bedroom door, Hyunwoo’s lingering gaze stagnant on the empty space that he occupied just a second ago. The sigh he lets out is deafening, and he lets out all the pressure tightening his shoulders.

What was Hyunwoo thinking? Just because he’d gone ahead and got himself hurt, and just because Kihyun was nothing but the word ‘caring’ over the past week didn’t mean anything.

He’s a doctor; he’s as prone to occupational hazards as Hyunwoo is. Maybe caring for the sick is just a thing he does, like how Hyunwoo is attuned to look out for those who don’t or can’t look out for themselves.

Silly thoughts, Hyunwoo admits, and when he slinks back into his bed, throwing the duvet over his head, he knows he’s invested way too many emotions into someone like Kihyun.

Someone who’s just a friend (barely even one), someone who doesn’t care for him in that way.

He groans and tries to think of a time where Kihyun was just a flatmate to him, and he realises he can’t remember so far back.

Maybe it’s because it never happened; maybe the first time he set eyes on Kihyun, he had realise he’d fallen for him. He’s an idiot.

*****

Hyunwoo is going back to work. He’s spent way too many weeks lying in bed that he’s certain his muscles have started to shrivel.

Today is the day. He makes sure to do his morning stretches, and before he pulls his singlet over his torso, he traces his index finger over the small scar on his skin.

Battle wounds, huh? Hyunwoo pats his old injury with his right palm and presses his lips together as he looks himself in the mirror.

He’s ready for this, right? Being a police officer was far from an easy job, but it’s the job he excelled in, and one that he felt strongly about.

Hyunwoo’s mind welcomes the stark memory of blurring lights and grogginess, his partner calling out for him in a flustered voice, the siren of the ambulance ringing in his ears. He tries to shake the thought out, but it persists, and Hyunwoo has to remind himself to breathe.

It keeps going, like a scrolling image carousel, blasts of light invading his sight despite his eyes being closed.

Three knocks on the door, and Hyunwoo is thrown out of his reverie, blinking his eyes open as he heaves loudly. He’s here again, in the comfort of his bedroom, in the household objects that bring him peace, and he swallows as he looks at his door.

It must have been too long a wait, because the rapping on the wood happens again, this time sounding a little more frantic. “Hey, Hyunwoo, you okay in there?”

He doesn’t know how he still manages to find the ability to smile, but he does, and strides over to the exit, ignoring his senses warning him of the dangers lurking outside the cradle of his bedroom.

He twists the doorknob and flings the door open, Kihyun’s arm hanging in mid-air, his knuckles ready for another attack.

“Oh! Hey.” He takes a step back almost immediately, his eyes shooting open in surprise as Hyunwoo stares at him.

“Good morning, you.” Deciding that he could get used to this image, Hyunwoo leans casually by the doorframe. A 360 from when they were just flatmates and the door would click behind Kihyun leaving the house just as Hyunwoo emerged from his cave.

(If he didn’t know any better, Hyunwoo would’ve assumed that Kihyun calculated the time of Hyunwoo’s exit from his bedroom to make sure that he didn’t need to greet him in the mornings.)

“Hey, uh, I’ve got to dash in a bit, but I made breakfast and maybe cooked a little more than I should’ve. You’re free to grab a serving.” He rubs at the back of his hand. Hyunwoo eyes it cautiously, then back at Kihyun.

He masks his concern very well; Hyunwoo can’t say he’s surprised.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.”

A jest. “Hopefully we’ve evolved enough for me to not prepare you anything you wouldn’t eat.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. “Like peanut butter sandwich.”

Kihyun nods, laughing breathily. “Like peanut butter sandwich,” he nods, looking down at Hyunwoo’s socked feet.

“So, uh, I should go.”

Hyunwoo shrugs, lifting his arms halfway and with a grin still on his face, “Have a nice day at work.”

Kihyun inhales, then nods slowly. “Right.”

His toes are in the direction of the hallway with Hyunwoo’s gaze boring holes into his back. The older man can see the way he’s taking in a deep breath from how his entire frame seems to elevate, and then sink.

“Hyunwoo —” He spins around and adjusts the strap to his bag on his shoulder, chewing on his lower lip.

A frown. “What is it?”

His tongue sticks out to wet his lips, and he looks at the planked floor. “I know — I know this isn’t my place to speak, but uh…”

His adam’s apple bobs. “Do you think it’s a little early for you to go back to work?”

Hyunwoo looks at him with a crease between his brow. “What? Why? I got the clearance from the docs.”

Kihyun looks like his breath is choking him as he tries to speak. “I know. Physically. But that must have been difficult. Traumatising, even.” And like a tap that’s been wrung off the basin, Kihyun spills. “You were stabbed multiple times. You had internal bleeding. You had to lie in a hospital bed for weeks.”

The police officer pushes himself away from the door frame. “Yes, and that’s exactly why I need to go back to work. There are crooks like my assailant out there. It’s my job to protect the civilians.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to protect you?”

Kihyun says this with such a wistful voice, raw emotion scratching at every syllable, and Hyunwoo lifts his head to look at him with a hike of his left brow. It’s probably just the way the light is bouncing off his eyes, but he thinks he sees a glimpse of moisture at their corners.

He clears his throat and stands back up straight. “Sure as hell not me,” he whispers in the same beat of a chuckle, and blinks a few times to find his bearings.

“Anyway. I’ve said my bit. It’s your choice. Hope you have a good day at work too.” Pressing his lips together, Kihyun turns to walk away, and only when the lock clicks into place does Hyunwoo let out a huge breath he didn’t know he was holding.

*****

“Hey hyung, good to see you in something that isn’t your hospital gown,” Jooheon greets him with a punch on his arm, and the older man captures him in a headlock.

“You rascal. Good to see you didn’t burn the station down.”

Jooheon rolls his eyes. “I’m the damn clerk, not one of you meaty knuckleheads. If anyone’s capable of burning down a police station, it’ll be Kim right over there.”

“Hey!” Kim shouts out, and they both share a laugh. Jooheon keeps eyeing at Hyunwoo in a way that makes him uncomfortable, and he hates being handled with kid gloves. It’s stupid, because he is Officer Son, he’s the one looking over everyone, not being looked over.

“You feeling okay?” Jooheon blurts out finally, like he’s been holding the words in for a while, and Hyunwoo sighs, laughing a little exasperatedly. “Yes. Now will you stop looking at me like I’m some kind of mutant?”

Jooheon’s eyes widen by a fraction, then he rubs at his nape, embarrassed. “I dunno, it just feels weird. Seeing you ill and stuff.”

Hyunwoo narrows his eyes. “Not exactly your reaction as you burst into my hospital ward screaming ‘hyung!’ and plopping on your knees next to my bed.”

The blonde male stretches his eyes wide slowly. “Wow. This is what I get for worrying about you.”

Hyunwoo chuckles, throws his arm over Jooheon’s shoulder, just finding his sulking adorable. “I’m just teasing. It’s nice to feel like my absence would be missed.”

Jooheon frowns, pinching Hyunwoo’s forearm that’s looped around him, eliciting a yelp from the older man. “Stop saying stuff like that,” he says in a softer tone, and Hyunwoo just ruffles his hair. Jooheon is only a few years younger than him, but sometimes so unbelievably child-like.

The younger man offers to buy him a cup of ‘celebratory coffee’, a proposal Hyunwoo can hardly refuse, and they walk to the cafe in comfortable silence. Hyunwoo takes in the environment around the precinct, and realises that the grass field next to the station seems to be a lot greener than what it’s like in his memory. He’s never noticed something like this before.

“I know it’s a bit of an awkward question — don’t answer it if you don’t want to — but what went through your head when you were attacked?” Jooheon buries his hands in his front pockets, and Hyunwoo adjusts the cap on his head.

“Uh. Mostly white spaces, I think. Phasing between black and white nothingness. Blurry images.” Hyunwoo presses his lips together as he tries to remember, and then to not remember.

“Of?”

“People. Memories. The toy dinosaur my mum bought for me as a kid that I still have on my bed in my childhood house. The swing near my apartment where kids hang out all the time.”

Jooheon smiles at the seemingly lovely memories, then his expression turns serious again. “Did you think you were going to die?”

Hyunwoo exhales softly. “In that moment? Yeah.”

“Did it hurt?”

Shakes his head. “Mostly just the feeling of losing control. It’s terrifying. It’s like my limbs and brain don’t listen to me anymore, and it just sort of gets all jumbled together with bits of emptiness in between.”

“That sounds horrifying,” Jooheon decidedly concludes, and Hyunwoo laughs again, this time on an exhale, one that sounds suspiciously like a sigh. He picks up the coffee that’s now ready for him, and takes a daring sip of the scalding beverage.

“Lucky you, you’re just a clerk, not one of us meaty knuckleheads.”

Jooheon guffaws in response, and the ends of the older man’s lips pull up gently. He doesn’t tell Jooheon how his mother’s image lingered in his mind, how Hoseok, Changkyun, and Jooheon’s own face flashed past his eyes.

Most strangely, how he had, for a microsecond, welcomed a ludicrous possibility that Kihyun — Yoo Kihyun — would swoop in like a hero in a cape to help him.  And how some figure bearing an uncanny likeness to his flatmate had been the last thing he remembers seeing before his world turned completely black.

*****

It’s supposed to be an uneventful day, but Hyunwoo and his partner receive a call for a break-in happening near them. He radios back to Control Centre to confirm that they are both heading towards the venue where the report was made.

The adrenaline rushes through his veins as the siren atop the police car wails deafeningly, and his partner is weaving through traffic expertly. They’re used to this, a good team, Hyunwoo pointing out directions as Lee controls the wheels. His biceps tense as he grabs onto the handle by the side of the door. There is a strain in his back that he can’t pinpoint how or why, and he becomes a little jittery, his insides slushing from side to side.

Tyres screeching to a stop, the doors swing open on Lee’s side. “Son, what are you doing? Come on, we don’t have forever.”

The crease between Hyunwoo’s brows deepens, but he does throw the passenger door open and walk out to the allegedly robbed house. Trying his best to anchor the unsettling sensation bubbling in him, Hyunwoo takes his time to cross the lawn, eyes trained on his own feet when there is a holler of his name from the distance.

Lifting his head, his gaze lands on a swift shadow dashing past him and Lee, a man with an average build, carrying a backpack, a ski mask over his head. Lee gives chase almost immediately, and Hyunwoo is still recovering from his episode in the car, but when he finally comes back to himself, his legs start moving before his brain does.

He doesn’t have time to think — nabbing this crook is more important than his split moment of a mental breakdown in a police car — and his lungs feel like they’re about to give out.

The suspect is quick, but Hyunwoo is quicker, using his whole body to fling himself forward. His only thought is to catch the man, but a wave of what appears to be a memory washes itself onto the recesses of his mind.

His wound from surgery stings a little. Hyunwoo frowns — surely it’s not going to tear itself open, is it? The doctors knew he was a police officer and knew how strenuous his work was going to be, yet they gave him the green light. It should be alright, right?

His breathing is cut short with every leap, but the lack of oxygen to his brain doesn’t seem to deter his thoughts from running wild. He imagines the stitches tearing themselves apart slowly, feels his torso throbbing the same way it did when he was waning off the effects of the painkillers. Remembers Kihyun asking him if he was ready.

And Hyunwoo wants to say yes. He’s ready. He’s ready?

But in this moment, Hyunwoo only runs, because the target is just in sight, and he could prevent someone else’s house from being broken in.

Too absorbed in his thoughts, Hyunwoo only focusses on the left-right movement of his feet touching and leaving the ground.

When he looks up, Hyunwoo is in the middle of an intersection, and there is a vehicle heading straight for him. The driver sounds his horn, and he can see the shock on his face as he steps on the brakes as hard as he can. It’s too fast — perhaps this is how Hyunwoo dies, on the job, brutal and ugly under the tyres of a Toyota sedan.

Unable to move, Hyunwoo finds that the only thing he’s capable of doing right now is to squeeze his eyes shut really tight and hope for this to be as painless as possible. His thoughts are rattling in his head and threatening to explode in all directions, and Hyunwoo finds it morbid that that would be a reality way too soon.

But it never comes. There is a harsh tug on his arm and Hyunwoo falls on his side, his cheek scratching across the asphalt ground, grazing off a patch of skin. But the trembling doesn’t stop, his entire frame still waiting for the impact of the car, his eyes still wide from fear.

He’s helped up by Lee who has the most worried expression on his face, and guilt gnaws endlessly at Hyunwoo. “Son fucking Hyunwoo, Jesus fucking Christ! What the hell were you thinking, running onto that busy road like that?”

Hyunwoo doesn’t know what to reply with, so he doesn’t, still feeling the residual tremors in his nerves.

And Lee seems to see that, so instead of yelling more expletives at the younger officer, he helps him to a nearby bench and sits him down, gauging Hyunwoo’s reaction every couple of seconds. It takes them both three minutes of silence before Hyunwoo mutters an ‘I’m okay’ that has Lee letting out a sigh of relief.

“What the fuck was that, man?” Blood trickles slowly from where Hyunwoo’s skin had peeled off, the man dabbing at it softly, surprised to find that it’s blood when he looks at the back of his hand.

“I dunno. I was preoccupied with thinking as I started to run, and —”

“You could have died, Hyunwoo.”

“I wanted to catch the man, sunbae. But I —”

Lee shakes his head. “You’re a police officer. You’re not Superman. You can’t help everyone or catch every crook in this town. How can you uphold the safety of the neighbourhood when you can’t look out for yourself?”

Silence.

“Anyway let’s get you back to the station to get that treated,” Lee points at his cheek with another disapproving look.

“What about the perp?”

“I’ll have the guys at the station go down to the crime scene to collect clues. We’ll trace the guy down. Don’t worry about that, just worry about yourself.”

Hyunwoo is about to argue, but Lee just shoots him a look that suggests that it’s the end of the conversation, so he nods slowly, the load in his chest weighing him down.

*****

When Hyunwoo enters the thresholds of his own apartment, he can’t help but feel a strong sense of foreboding. Like a storm is brewing, uneasiness setting home in his chest. He wonders why that is, until Kihyun walks out of his room with his phone in his hands.

Sensing another person’s presence, Kihyun looks away from his device to find Hyunwoo. “Oh you’re home early tod —”

Hyunwoo straightens back up from dropping his bag by the doorway, his gauze-covered cheek in full view. The shorter man frowns, his eyes narrowing into a line.

“What’s that?” His pitch goes a little higher whenever he’s questioning (or in this case, interrogative), his index finger pointing at Hyunwoo’s new injury.

“What’s what?” Hyunwoo plays dumb, because he feels like Kihyun is about to be really angry for some reason, and while he knows it’s mean and childish to make a fool of Kihyun in this way, he feels like maybe this is the chance to have some of his questions answered.

“That.”

Kihyun takes a few large strides forward and finds himself so impossibly close to Hyunwoo’s face that it’s impossible to do anything but breathe in the scent of his soap and his freshly washed hair from a shower at the precinct before his return.

Hyunwoo flinches slightly when Kihyun ignores the sirens going off at the back of his head and reaches out to touch the gauze.

“It’s bleeding through,” he says, a sight he’s all too familiar with, and he raises his gaze to look at Hyunwoo. There is a fold between his brows and Hyunwoo can feel the warm breath of his exasperated huff.

“I’ll have to fix it.” Kihyun takes a step backwards, his head shaking slowly, lips pursed in a tight line. Hyunwoo knows this Kihyun, the Kihyun who needs to fix everything. He wonders if he tells Dr Yoo his symptoms: about the suffocating pressure on his chest blooming into an ache whenever he looks at Kihyun, if he’d find him a cure, too.

Hyunwoo blinks a couple of times and shrugs nonchalantly as Kihyun begins to move.

“I can’t believe you’ve gone and injured yourself again,” he hisses the words as he drags a stool from the utility room to the kitchen, Hyunwoo following him like a little puppy.

He is seething, that much is clear. He’s just missing some smoke coming out from his ears.

And as Hyunwoo is the person that he is, the first thing he does is apologise, which seems to douse Kihyun’s anger some more.

“Sorry? You’re —” he spits, frustrated, slamming the stool on the marbled ground and spinning around to glare fiercely at Hyunwoo, alarmed to find him looking calm and collected, and even a grin at the ends of his lips. Oh God, he wishes he could punch his stupid face right now.

“You’re a grown man, hyung. Like. How do you keep doing this?” Gesticulates wildly with his two arms, at the brink of a mental breakdown at how unbelievably idiotic this man is.

“It’s my job,” Hyunwoo says quietly, and nothing else, and Kihyun is not sated with the reply.

“Yeah? How can you claim to take care of others when you can’t even look out for yourself, Officer Son?”

Deja vu. Hyunwoo thinks he’s heard this statement before fairly recently, and it takes him a good half minute before he remembers that Kihyun had said this, too.

He presses his lips together, wondering if he’s the only idiot around.

Kihyun stares up at the first-aid kit sitting atop the fridge and places a foot on the stool, steadies himself to climb on it when Hyunwoo goes on his tiptoes and barely drags the box down. It hangs loosely by his fingers, and Kihyun looks at him with a scowl on his face.

“You’re injured. Stop straining your muscles.”

“My injury’s on my face. What’s that gotta do with my calf muscles?”

Kihyun knows he’s right, and his face is turning a light shade of pink, but he mutters a shut up under his breath and comes back down from the stool.

“Why are you so angry anyway? I’m sorry I got hurt. You don’t have to take care of me, you know that, right?” Hyunwoo is so unaware of how his words seem to rub salt into Kihyun’s wound, and with a snarl, Kihyun retaliates, “I’m a doctor.”

Hyunwoo nods slowly. “Yes. But you’re also off duty. We’re in our apartment. It’s just a scratch. You don’t have to do any of this for me. I know how to perform first aid on myself.”

Pettiness grows in Kihyun like a wildfire, and he looks like he might blow. “Okay. Then do it yourself, it’s not like I give a shit.”

“Kihyun. Kihyun!” Hyunwoo grabs onto his arm gently and Kihyun thankfully doesn’t resist. He lets him go slowly. “I just want to talk. I — I want to know why this bothers you so much.”

Kihyun looks at his feet. “What does what bother me?”

“Me. Being hurt. Why does it bother you so much?”

Kihyun is unwilling to meet his gaze, and Hyunwoo would be the last person to admit that it strikes a dull ache in his chest.

“Because I warned you, Officer Son. I told you that maybe you weren’t ready for all of this. That maybe you needed some time.”

Hyunwoo falls silent. He’s right. Hyunwoo isn’t ready for it, and despite the facade he’s made himself wear, it’s clear with how the events of the day unfolded that Hyunwoo has some issues other than his physical recovery to worry about.

But swallowing a bitter pill known as Pride is difficult, even for Hyunwoo, and he chooses to redirect the focus.

“Then tell me ‘I told you so’. Tell me I deserve it. Tell me I was an idiot for not listening to you. But why are you angry?” He doesn’t mean to, but he raises his voice, and he regrets it almost immediately when Kihyun flinches at his volume.

With gritted teeth, “You didn’t take what I said seriously; why should I not be angry?”

“Why did you even care in the first place?” Both of them are blazing fire, like they’re enshrouded in flames, only the kind that burns in Hyunwoo is drastically different from the fury in Kihyun’s. “Huh? Why do you care if I go out and get myself killed in the field?”

“I’m not here to entertain your childish questions,” Kihyun says, and he’s perfectly able to pull away from the heat of Hyunwoo’s fingers around his wrist, but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t know how to answer to either of those questions. He’s friends with Hyunwoo, right? It shouldn’t be so damn difficult to admit to them being friends. (Only Kihyun is morbidly afraid of rejection, and what if he’s the only one who thought they were a little more than amicable acquaintances-slash-flatmates that occasionally eat and watch movies together?)

“Is it only childish because you’re refusing to face the truth?”

Kihyun scowls. “What truth?’ he spits, and Hyunwoo narrows his eyes.

“You know better than I do. What truth, Kihyun?”

Kihyun digs his fingernails into the flesh of his palm, and Hyunwoo grabs at his fingers desperately to stop them from biting into his skin. Kihyun looks up at the older man momentarily, only to drop his gaze back onto the marbled ground.

Between the both of them, only the quiet humming of refrigerator is sustained, and Kihyun’s hesitation.

“Why. Do. You. Care.” Hyunwoo minces his words, and hung on his face is a mask of such ferocity, only ferocity in what, Kihyun doesn’t know (or doesn’t want to know).

“You’re my…” Eyes wide, the ringing in his ears deafening, his toes curling in his socks. “Friend. You’re my friend.” He sounds so defeated, because being rejected as a friend beats confessing to another emotion that’s way more dangerous than he should be allowed to have.

Even the admission of something so simple (and perhaps so horribly untrue) makes him all jittery, and Hyunwoo only understands the weight it bears on Kihyun when he sees his shoulders shivering.

“Kihyun — hey, Kihyun?”

Blinking. “Yes?”

“It’s okay, I just —” A big gulp of his saliva, guilt traced in every last line of his features. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Nibbles on the skin of his lower lip. “No. No, it’s okay. I — I care about you. Maybe it’s just difficult to admit to that.”

A quirk of Hyunwoo’s right brow. “And why is that?”

The lip is overturned quickly, and Kihyun shrugs, his breathing growing even. “Dunno. Maybe the more people you let into your life, the easier things get to you.”

Hyunwoo’s eyes are soft when he says his next words.

“Then let things get to you. It’s okay. We’re human.”

Perhaps Hyunwoo is right. Perhaps the speck of gold dancing in his eyes is right. Perhaps the little pout of his lips as he speaks is right. Perhaps Kihyun gives in to his humanity as he lets Hyunwoo in, and perhaps that’s alright.

*****

Hyunwoo is silent. Obedient and pliant when Kihyun peels off the blood-soaked gauze, cringing a little at the bare flesh underneath.

He’s careful, dabbing softly at the wound with cotton balls dipped in antiseptic. Hyunwoo doesn’t even hiss, not even when Kihyun jabs at it a little too harshly, apologies spilling from his lips.

He glances at the patient from time to time, but is otherwise pleased at his lack of reaction.

The pad goes over the scratch, then a gauze, and Kihyun tapes the sides down, his thumb smoothing over it softly as he ensures that it won’t fall off.

Hyunwoo inhales deeply, so comfortable with the fresh, tender touch of someone else that he almost leans into Kihyun’s hand. Then he remembers that Kihyun’s doing him a favour by tending to his injury. He shouldn’t take advantage of his kindness like this.

(But God, does Kihyun smell amazing — zesty and soothing with a ting of spice — and Hyunwoo has been without the gentle physical contact of another human being for way too long.)

His eyelids fall shut on their own, Kihyun’s scent surrounding him like billows of smoke, and Hyunwoo would gladly find himself engulfed.

The younger man seems to find out that Hyunwoo is on the edge of sleep and he doesn’t have the heart to pull away, not when Hyunwoo looks like an angel when he sleeps, his breathing a slow and steady pace, his lips pouting subconsciously. Kihyun looks at him and the hand that was just resting on his cheek starts to roam, his thumb wiping across Hyunwoo’s cheekbone, his dark eyebags, his Cupid’s bow, the tip of his nose.

Kihyun gulps when his finger is painfully close to Hyunwoo’s cherry lips, the plushness to them so hypnotising, Kihyun wonders what it’ll feel like to just touch them. For just a second.

Hyunwoo is fast asleep, a soft snore leaving him. The temptation runs wild, spiked in his brain, flowing through his nerves. Kihyun’s hand is trembling.

And perhaps it’s just not meant to be, because Hyunwoo seems to rouse from the shiver in his touch, his eyes pull open tiredly, and he backs away instantly when he realises how he’s had his whole face leaned into Kihyun’s palm.

“Oh shit, sorry, Kihyun, I guess I’ve just had a long day.”

Kihyun looks at him with a cocked brow, but there is a tug at the end of his lip before he chuckles and tells Hyunwoo that it’s okay.

(And really, it’s okay, Kihyun tells himself, ignoring the sinking disappointment within.)

*****

Hyunwoo knocks on Kihyun’s ajar door, offering a tight smile and a small wave when the doctor looks up at him from his laptop screen.

He peels the glasses off the bridge of his nose and glances at his flatmate.

“You should have an early night,” he reminds gently, and Hyunwoo just shrugs again, his signature move, as Kihyun is made to realise.

“It’s okay. I asked for the day off tomorrow. I’ll be on desk duty for the next couple of weeks.”

Kihyun’s eyes widen, unsure as to how to react to the sudden information. “Okay?”

Hyunwoo chortles before his expression morphs into something more serious. “You’re right. I was rushing into things, about wanting to go back onto the field. I never considered how I was feeling.” At Kihyun staring at him with a blank expression, Hyunwoo adds, “emotionally, I mean. I was reminded, in the police car on the way to the scene, of that despair I felt after I was stabbed. It made me think about how I might get into something similar on this mission, too, and I got —“

He massages the back of his neck, his head hanging low.

“I got scared, I guess. It was a terrifying sensation. Both the despair and the shame from feeling something like that. I was paralysed on the spot, and I was so ashamed I tried to push it aside, but instead of cowardice I dealt with recklessness. I — sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He lets out an unamused chuckle, and Kihyun’s gaze turns soft immediately. Hyunwoo knows it’s pity, but maybe he doesn’t mind it so much right now.

Kihyun pushes his laptop off of himself and lets out a sigh, his gaze still slightly narrowed, but he seems to be happy with Hyunwoo’s admission of his weakness.

Getting up from his bed, Kihyun covers the small space between them and meets Hyunwoo’s eyes. “I’m glad. Not at desk duty, or that you were feeling horrible, but that you acknowledged that physical health isn’t all there is to it.” His eyelashes fan over the base of his eyes softly, so painfully gentle, and Hyunwoo feels something in him crack.

Kihyun truly is such a gorgeous person. Hyunwoo wonders how he’s never looked at him up close like this, so close he could count the number of moles decorating his skin, recognise the topography of his facial features.

And when Kihyun’s eyelashes spread out as he glances upwards, Hyunwoo’s heart properly breaks. Evenly, in a clean and direct shatter, Hyunwoo realises just how smitten he’s allowed himself to be, and how much of his emotions he’s managed to suppress.

This little outpour, a small emotional spill, seems to have lured out something way larger and tucked farther away, and Hyunwoo wants it to crash down on him like an avalanche, only that takes guts he doesn’t have.

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo’s mouth runs dry, his heart stuck in his throat, and he’s so tempted to say something the both of them will regret. He doesn’t know why he’s so afraid. Perhaps it’s the fact that they haven’t even properly established the existence of a friendship.

Perhaps it’s because if Hyunwoo were to screw this up, things would be awkward since they live together.

(Perhaps the last thing Hyunwoo wants to see is disgust marring Kihyun’s beautiful face, and Hyunwoo would remember nothing but the disdain Kihyun had worn.)

Kihyun seems to be equally nervous, for some reason. There is a light imprint of the silicon nose pads where his glasses sat by the bridge of his nose, and Hyunwoo doesn’t know why he finds that so endearing.

The shorter man is fidgeting, kneading his hands together as he shuffles his weight from one side to the other. Hyunwoo looks at him with curiosity swimming in his eyes, and Kihyun feels like his chest might explode.

He wants to reassure him, tell him that it’s okay to need time to recover mentally, but all he can think of are the other things his mind has been trying to get him to admit to for months.

What is he supposed to say? That he likes when Hyunwoo falls asleep against his hand; that he likes having Hyunwoo around because although he’s quiet, he’s good company; that Hyunwoo’s tanned skin and him in a white singlet are images that appear in his dreams way too frequently to be normal?

Hyunwoo stares down at him, like he has something to say, almost like he’s shy, even, and Kihyun feels his fingertips turning numb. Hyunwoo really has made him feel this warm, soft embrace-like feeling he’s never felt before.

He doesn’t know how to label it, but he knows he wants more of it, and preferably for as long as possible.

Perhaps he’s ready to deal with the truth he never gave himself the chance to face.

“Your question just now.” Kihyun picks at dead skin by the side of his nails and his foot taps against the ground in a stuttered beat. “About why I was so concerned. Or angry.”

Hyunwoo huffs out a small smile. “I realise you’re constantly riled up about something anyway.”

Kihyun glares at him, but upon discovering that Hyunwoo’s eyes are thinned into a straight line, his cheekbones pulled upwards and basically looking adorable as hell, he returns his gaze to the ground.

“It’s a good thing to live passionately is how I’ll phrase it.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. “Sure. Whatever phrasing your heart desires.”

The tension in the air seems to relax for a millisecond when Kihyun laughs breathily, then it returns tenfold.

This isn’t like Kihyun. But then again, Hyunwoo has made him develop feelings that are unlike him, too. “I was scared of…” He looks around furtively, and realising there is no refuge and that he is laid bare for Hyunwoo to read, he shuns away instinctively. “Sorry, this is stupid, I never should’ve —”

“Don’t. Please, Kihyun, you’ve run away from me enough. Please, just —” The whole room seems to suck in a deep breath along with Hyunwoo. The police officer presses his fingers against his temple, and lifts his head to look at Kihyun, blinking a few times, lips tight. “I need this. To hear this. I want to know.”

Kihyun’s breath is shaky. He can feel his lower lip trembling, and he chews on the insides of his cheeks, gaze darting from one corner of the room to the other.

“But if you aren’t ready that’s —”

“I was scared of losing you,” he mumbles quickly in a single beat, and when Hyunwoo opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, Kihyun chases and catches it. “And not in like a ‘I’m worried that my flatmate is going to die and I’m going to have to find a new place’ kind of scared, though that’s another fear altogether.”

Hyunwoo laughs, and Kihyun breaks into a small chuckle he didn’t know he could muster from all the pressure building in his chest. The stress releases by a tiniest bit, but at this stage, even a little something is a blessing.

Hyunwoo doesn’t know if he wants to hear the answer to the question, but he asks it anyway. “Then why were you scared? Of losing me?”

He takes the tiniest step forward, and now he can properly see Kihyun’s pores, the bit of his lip he’s been chewing at turning a slight pink, and the young doctor gasps at the proximity, but he doesn’t move away.

He gulps, this close to just running out of the apartment, move to a different country, take up a new identity and never come back. But if the signals he’s been trying to pick up have been any accurate, Kihyun knows he has no reason to run.

In an exhale, “I just was. I was scared you won’t be here to eat the meals I cook. That I won’t have someone pull down the blinds on my days off. That I won’t find aspirin left out for me after a shower, when I come home complaining of a headache. That I — That I won’t feel this again, this feeling of being in constant protection and warmth, this knowledge that someone out there believes in me, or maybe this stupid throbbing in my chest that happens whenever you smile or laugh or whenever you do anything. It’s stupid, but — but I was scared of losing that.”

It falls silent, the kind that a bark from their neighbour’s dog makes them jump out of their skin. Kihyun’s eyes are still trained on the ground, his fingers still tangled, his foot still tapping against the floor.

“And you, I guess. Of losing you, because you’re important, or something.”

The police officer looks at Kihyun, but he doesn’t exchange glances with him, considering the shorter man is still staring at his feet. He doesn’t know what to say, how to beat that confession monologue, how to sound as poetic as Kihyun had made their interactions sound. He knows what he wants to do, though, so he voices it, because he’s been wanting to do it for God knows how long.

“Hey Kihyun.”

An embarrassed gaze is returned, and Hyunwoo’s eyes are soft and filled with honey, and Kihyun feels his shoulders sag from relief.

“Mm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

The younger man splutters, eyes shooting wide open. He almost chokes on his breath, but Hyunwoo seems unaffected, like he didn’t just ask Kihyun such a shameless question, still standing there with a grin on his face, anticipatory.

A pink tint finds its way up Kihyun’s neck, then his ears, and his cheeks, and he shrugs as nonchalantly as he allows himself to. “Sure, I guess.”

“Fair warning, it’s going to last for a while,” Hyunwoo jokes as he inches closer to Kihyun, his hands coming around his face, the other sitting firmly at the back of his head, and he can feel the Kihyun-patented zesty and intoxicating scent on the tip of his nose when the doctor laughs.

“I think I’m up for that,” is all he says before closing the distance between the both of them, thin lips against cherry plush. It’s soft, supple, and sweet, the way Kihyun has always imagined it to be, while Kihyun’s fevered skin burns beneath Hyunwoo’s fingers.

They spend moments just finding the right tilt of the head to accede Kihyun’s tall nose, and Kihyun presses himself against Hyunwoo, his arms thrown over his shoulders and circles him in a loop.

Hyunwoo’s hands move down to the younger man’s waist, resting comfortably, and he kisses him so hard his head is spinning. The older man sucks on his lower lip, tugs at it gently with his teeth, feels the thin layer of skin give, and he captures them again, deeper, stronger, messier.

Kihyun is bold now that he’s engorged in flames, slipping his tongue into Hyunwoo’s cavity, letting his fat, thick tongue touch the roof of Hyunwoo’s mouth, run across Hyunwoo’s tongue, savouring every bit of him he’s been aching to taste.

Kihyun lets himself drown, along with the countless times he’s denied feeling anything out of the ordinary for Hyunwoo, berating himself for having such indecent thoughts, when he could have had this.

This, Hyunwoo switching their positions and cornering Kihyun so that his back hits the wall, kissing him like his life depended on it: demanding, giving, burning.

And Hyunwoo was right; the kiss ends after a long while (neither of them are keeping count of the minutes), and when they finally end it, an arm’s length away from each other, they break into throes of laughter neither of them can control.

But Hyunwoo’s arms are still around Kihyun, and when Kihyun tilts his chin up to look at Hyunwoo once more, the older man doesn’t resist the need to kiss him gently on his nose, giggling when the doctor scrunches it up.

“Wow,” is all Hyunwoo manages to muster, and Kihyun’s face is a dark pink to match with his well-kissed lips.

And perhaps the eyes of infatuation have given Hyunwoo some rose-tinted lenses, but in this moment, Kihyun is stunning. His chest moves up and down as he tries to catch his breath, red staining his cheeks and neck, and the smallest smile gracing his swollen lips, lips that Hyunwoo had ravaged so mercilessly, its sweetness still lingering in his mouth.

When Hyunwoo kisses Kihyun on his forehead, the smaller man shaking in his hold as he laughs, he wonders if he’ll quit himself of the addictive feeling of being around Kihyun, kissing him, touching him, making him laugh so hard his sides hurt.

*****

It’s Movie Night. Kihyun has just played Inception on their Smart TV and returns to the sofa where Hyunwoo’s arm is laid ready for him to curl into.

They’ve watched this movie multiple times, but Kihyun is a big fan, and obsesses over every small detail of the movie to analyse, and Hyunwoo has stopped questioning his quirky behaviour when Kihyun pulls out a pen and paper to jot down the clues.

They watch it for a while, Kihyun watches the film intently while Hyunwoo watches Kihyun carefully, shaking his head from time to time when Kihyun jabs desperately at the Pause button because he’s not writing as quickly as the next clue is appearing.

When Kihyun leaves for a toilet break, Hyunwoo picks up a bag of crisps and starts eating. The younger man returns from his break, hiking up a brow at Hyunwoo eating chips at this time of the night even though he’s made a vow to get fitter, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Hyunwoo has the remote out, ready to press Play, when Kihyun speaks up.

“When did you realise you liked me?”

Hyunwoo’s surprised, laughs, looks away as he grabs a handful of crisps from the bag and stuffs it into his mouth. It crunches deafeningly, and Kihyun is waiting patiently for his answer. The older man swallows, downing some water that Kihyun conveniently passes over.

“Is it tacky to say that it was love at first sight?”

Kihyun shakes his head, chuckling. “Not tacky as much as it’s unlikely.”

Hyunwoo shrugs, and the ends of his lips pull up. “Actually, I think I remember what it was. You were at the apartment doing a first inspection for Expressions of Interest, and I remember you saying ‘wow, okay, the toilet is pretty impressive’, and then I fell heads over heels in love with you.”

“You’re an asshole,” Kihyun scowls when Hyunwoo throws his head back as he guffaws, putting his arm around Kihyun, ignoring his boyfriend’s indignant little huff.

“No, I’m serious. I thought it was so special that you found the washroom impressive instead of like, the bedroom. It was cute.”

The scowl doesn’t leave Kihyun’s face. “Your mother told me that you were living alone in an apartment with the toilet to yourself. You can’t blame me for thinking that a washroom belonging to a single, eligible police officer like yourself was going to be a disaster.”

Hyunwoo hikes up a brow. “You thought I was single and eligible?”

The doctor rolls his eyes. “Not the damn point, Hyunwoo.”

The older man laughs again, just finding angry Kihyun terribly adorable, and he leans back into the sofa. Nonchalantly, “yeah, of course I liked you from Day 1. Why else did you think I told my mum to rent it to you when there were plenty of other offers with higher rent?”

Kihyun almost screeches. “You what?”

Nodding, like it doesn’t really matter. “Yeah. I told my mum I thought you were interesting, and told her to rent it to you, even though there was another dude — who seriously looked a little creepy — who offered almost more than a hundred than you.”

Kihyun frowns. “And your mum agreed?”

“Between you and me, I think she thought he was a little creepy, too.”

They both share a laugh, even though there is something that neither of them are willing to address — that Hyunwoo found Kihyun attractive from Day One, and that this attraction was strong enough for him to convince his mother to let him stay despite it being highly insensible.

It’s Hyunwoo’s turn. “Me? What about me? When did you start liking me?”

This seems to tick off something in Kihyun because he reddens a little. “You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

Hyunwoo laughs. “After my story? I highly doubt so.”

Kihyun’s fingers run over the buttons on the remote. With a sigh, “when you made me a peanut butter sandwich.”

Hyunwoo frowns, entertained. “Why, I thought you didn’t like them?”

“I didn’t. Still don’t. But. How should I say it. The fact that you looked out for me like that. For the first time, openly, it was just… nice.”

Hyunwoo grins. “Aw, Kihyunnie likes being taken care of,” he sing-songs, and Kihyun cannot suppress the blush forming quickly on his face. He doesn’t deny the claim, however.

They share another moment of silence before Kihyun looks up at Hyunwoo, who now is looking at him with the gentlest gaze, and with a small push, Kihyun kisses him softly on the lips.

“Now be a good boy and finish the movie with me,” Kihyun scolds, and Hyunwoo’s lips pull up before tugging his boyfriend into his arms, snuggling his nose into the crook of his neck.

“Okay.”

They play the movie again, Kihyun taking occasional glances in his direction, and being contented with the large, warm boulder around him holding him together, he lets out of sigh of relaxation, easing himself into Hyunwoo’s arms.

Kihyun sets up home in the only place he knows — in Hyunwoo’s heart, and Kihyun’s lease with Hyunwoo doesn’t end for a very, very long time.

Notes:

first of all, i'm extremely sorry for coming back after such a long time. i wish i had a better excuse than writer's block to offer, but it has really just been writer's block.
secondly, i'm also sorry that this fic is just Not That Good. It's been in my drafts for a while and i wanted to write it and to force myself back into writing i had to have this posted. so if it's not that good, it's just... not that good.
nonetheless, if you liked it even just a little bit, a comment would be really really appreciated! not being able to write is such a pain, and hopefully i'll be able to get back into the flow again. thank you all <3

as usual, not beta-ed

twt: @kihyunghyuks