Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju sat defeated amongst the other remaining players.

They had been herded to the sides by the guards, X and O players forming their own little factions opposite the room. Yong-sik was pressed into her left side, Geum-ja to her right. By unspoken agreement they had both locked arms with her, like a tether. As if they were scared she’d try anything, even now, as the guards did a methodical sweep of the barracks. Her rifle and the ammo had already been found and confiscated. One of the circle guards had brought in two buckets, one for bits of broken glass, another for forks. They didn’t bother cleaning up the beds.

The huddle kept glancing at the door to the corridors, Hyun-ju more than most, hoping to see more players appear, to be pushed back into the room. She knew it was a fools hope. That she should know better.

The circle workers brought in the coffins. Shut the dead players away. Carried the coffins out.

And then they brought in one more.

The room had already been quiet, but a hush fell as they put this particular coffin down, before retreating back to the elevator.

Only the squared commander remained standing right outside. "Your pitiful attempt at rigging the game is over," they spoke. "To avoid such preposterous outbursts in the future, we will leave you with a reminder of the price paid this night." All eyes in the room locked on the coffin. "As planned, voting will resume tomorrow morning. Should you vote to stay, the next game will be played immediately."

Across the room, the huddled O’s whispered fervently amongst themselves. With the accumulated losses suffered tonight, their victory in tomorrow’s vote was more than assured.

"We suggest you get some sleep," the commander finished, stepping backward. The elevator doors closed.

Hyun-ju was the first to move. She gently disentangled her arms, keeping an eye on the doors and the elevator while she walked over to the coffin, crouching at its head. She took a steadying breath, told herself to get it over with. Opened it up. And stared.

“Hyun-juna…” Geum-ja had tentatively followed her, Yong-sik in tow. “Who is it?”

Hyun-ju looked down at the dead man. “It’s Jung-bae.”

Somewhere in the huddle of X's, someone whimpered. Hyun-ju knew without looking it was Dae-ho.

Geum-ja shuffled close enough to look, her son following along. “That poor man… do you think… the others?”

“I don’t know,” Hyun-ju began, then wearily shook her head. What was the point of lying? “Probably.”

The door to the corridor opened. The players, some of which had inched closer, hastily shuffled back in between the bunks. Yong-sik pulled his mother behind him. Hyun-ju rose, but kept her ground.

Two triangle guards entered the room. Between them, they were holding Gi-hun. The players started murmuring, some of them looking at Gi-hun with clear disappointment, others, including Hyun-ju, looking at the door with rekindled hope. But nobody else was escorted in. The guards dragged Gi-hun to the nearest bunk bed, forcing him down without, Hyun-ju noticed, getting any resistance. After handcuffing him to the metal frame, the left the room again, without a single word of explanation, slamming the door behind them.

Hyun-ju was across the room to Gi-hun before the sound had fully dissipated. “What happened?”

Gi-hun didn’t respond. Didn’t look at her. Didn’t look at anything. Only that wasn’t true, Hyun-ju realized.

Whatever Gi-hun was seeing, it wasn’t in this room.

“Lights out will be in fifteen minutes,” the cheerful announcement sounded, making most of them jump. Hyun-ju looked around for someone with a plan, realized everyone else was doing the exact same thing, and sighed. She put Geum-ja on bunk bed duty, to arrange everyone on matrasses close together. She appointed watches for the remainder of the night. Not that she was expecting the O’s to try anything, but one could never be sure. Someone might get greedy. Greedier. She urged people to go to the bathroom now, in pairs, as the guards would probably be hard pressed to show mercy again during the night.

Then, with half a minute to spare, she went and got Dae-ho away from the coffin. It took some doing. She had to wrench his fingers loose where they were gripping the wood. Had to haul him up to his feet. Once she got him moving, he walked along meekly, like a lamb. Jun-hee helped in getting him to lie down, tucking him in. She was gently wiping down his wet face when the lights went out.

Hyun-ju double checked on Yong-sik, who was taking first watch, before finding her own mattress. She pulled the sheets over her head, and locked out the world.

The despair she had refused to give to the guards, had kept at bay for the benefit of the players, came to collect its due with a vengeance. She cried, stifling her sobs into her pillow, trembling with the effort of keeping still. They had been so close. So close. Until it turned out they hadn’t been close at all. There were no partial victories in war. In these games. Only losses, again and again. And again. The rebellious dead rose up in her mind. Trapped in that corridor. Looking to her for guidance.

She’d promised she’d be back.

Please do, he’d said. 246. The one Young-mi had named Prince charming, in her last act of ever smiling. New sobs racked Hyun-ju’s body. She’d been ready to die, on that platform. Felt like she should have, after failing Young-mi so utterly, so despicably. He had jolted her out of it. Literally. Dragged her into that room and held the door, bought her time for the clouds of grief to clear, to realize that she didn’t want to die, not yet, not like this. Not really at all.

Please. He’d sounded so desperate.

She didn’t even know his name.

She sat up abruptly. Yong-sik, from his guard post, nervously twitched. “Only me,” she whispered. He kept on looking nervous, glancing to the other side where the O’s slept, then back at her, scanning her wet face. She hastily wiped her cheeks. “I’m going to talk to Gi-hun.”

“I think he might be asleep,” Yong-sik whispered.

“I doubt that very much.”

Gi-hun was still sitting on the hard floor. Geum-ja had made them move a mattress to him, along with a pillow and some blankets. He had ignored all of it.

She crouched within his field of vision, giving him a few seconds to notice her presence. “Gi-hun-shi. Tell me what you know.”

He kept silent. Kept on staring at the floor, as if she wasn’t there. She gave him some time before repeating the question, voice level, but persistent.

After the third try, he finally twitched. “What’s the point.”

“The battle is lost, but there is still a fight to fight,” she said. He huffed in annoyance, which she ignored. “Talk to me. How come you were the only survivor?”

Gi-hun leaned his head back, switching out his grave staring at the floor with some staring at the ceiling. “Because he wants me to suffer.”

She followed his gaze upward. “Not now. Back then. You said you did this before. Nobody in that game voted to get out, even at the very end?”

“It was different then. ‘On a majority vote, the players are allowed to leave.’ But if we left before the end, without a single winner, we would get none of it. And so I went home alone.”

There was grief in there, bleeding so openly one could slip in it. She tread carefully. “What gave you the confidence you could stop these from the inside?”

“Stopping the games from inside was never the first plan. It wasn’t even plan B. It took me two years to find the recruiter. To get to the frontman. But he saw us coming. So I asked to be put back in the game. I had a tracker, hidden in a tooth. I’d be brought here, and the team could follow me, put an end to this before it even began.”

“But they found your tracker," she said.

He nodded grimly. “I’m a fool for thinking I could win this.” His stare traveled again, never reaching Hyun-ju. It pulled to the coffin instead. His face crumpled.

“There’s a rescue team out there?” she prompted, shifting to break his line of sight.

He evaded her, dropped his eyes to the floor. “They won’t find us.”

“They might.” It was something to latch on to. To hope for. To not overthink what she might have done if they had been rescued before the shooting started. Would she have thanked him? Cursed him? Both?

“Jung-ho had been looking for two years before we even tried this. There’s too many islands.”

A new name. A friend, she assumed. “But he’s still out there, yes? Trying?”

“You can’t get out. None of us can get out.” He rattled the shackles. “And I only made things worse." He hit his head back into the bed frame. "You should let them have me.”

“No.” She moved into his line of sight again. “Gi-hun-shi. Look at me.” He didn’t. She kept on talking anyway, low and stern. “We do not give up. Not until the end.”

“The end might come sooner for us than three games.”

“It might,” she agreed. “But then we fight for every game. For every day.”

“A fool’s hope.”

“And yet you made it to the end, once.”

He looked at her then, sudden and wild, and the outpouring of raw grief washed over her like a tidal pressure. A grief like that, it had no up or down, no way to breach through to a surface and gasp for relief. “I didn’t. Don’t you get that? I would have been dead the first game, the first game! I was frozen under a dead body until Sang-woo told me to move. At the finish line I tripped, and Ali grabbed me, holding me up, saving my life. Our third game was tug of war. I helped pull six people to their death by someone else’s strategy and quick thinking. When we played marbles…” he swallowed, a hard anger burning. “The glass bridge, I was too late in picking a number, and all that was left was first and last. I almost picked one. Only the last three of us survived. S—"

He choked off the name, swallowed thickly, sinking deeper into the abyss of his despair. For the space of a breath she carefully held, she thought she’d lost him to it.

When he started speaking again, it was barely a whisper. “I’d forgotten which way first, left or right. She didn’t have to tell me. And she still did. And she died. Survived all the way to the final only to die in her bed. Her last words were please sir, I want to go home.”

He looked at her, and she could see her own despair mirrored in his. Young-mi, crying, begging to go home. A man she had no name for, who had saved her,who had followed her like a shadow, looking at her across the gunfire. Please.

She pushed it aside. Reached out a hand. “And then you won.”

He shook his head violently. “I tried to stop it, there at the end. But he wouldn’t let me. He took the knife… It was all luck, don’t you see? Luck. Dumb, foolish, pitiful luck.”

“And people,” she said softly.

He tensed, looked away, locked his jaw. “People put us in here.”

“Then people can get us out.”

He shook his head, turned away from her again.

“Tell me what you know,” she persisted. “As much of it as you can.”

“What good will it do?” he snarled, poked beyond rawness. “You might die tomorrow.”

“I might,” she agreed, feeling probably calmer about this than she ought to. “But some of us might not. Whatever you can tell me, I’ll share with them. You're not alone, Gi-hun-shi.”

He snorted. “Give it one more game.” But he told her.

He told her everything he knew.

***

Gyeong-seok stared up at the triangle guard in breathless panic. It felt like his entire life had been reduced to white angles on black, intercut with moments of total dark. First in the hallway, surrounded by the dead, pleading for his life to a faceless shape. The shock of pain at getting shot, at crumpling to the ground. The nudge of the rifle against his chest. Waiting for the double tap. Na-yeon had burned bright in his mind. If he was forced to leave her, he’d hold her as long as he could.

“Play dead.” He’d had to be nudge twice, told twice, and he still didn’t understand. Kept his eyes closed and his breathing shallow as he was picked up, closed off to the world in a coffin he didn’t need to see to know, then picked up again. Play dead. As if that wasn’t the entirety of all that they’d been doing. Play the games or die. Play them and die anyway.

The staircase went on and on forever. The coffins hadn’t been designed to come this way. He pitched sideways, his wounded leg hitting wood. He swallowed his cry, braced himself with a pained grunt. It evened out sudden, the coffin coming to a rest. And then they were rolling. Contained in the dark, Gyeong-seok tried to listen, but could hear nothing but wheels, rattling on and on and on.

The coffin halted, jolted, rolled. And stopped. A metallic clang venerated through all. When it went, it took all other sound with. He had a sudden sense of clarity that he was being contained by something more than the coffin and that wall of silence. His panic spiked, and he pushed at the lid. It shifted up.

The whole of his contained world dropped.

Gyeong-seok screamed. Screamed again at the jolt of the landing, at the white hot pain lancing through his leg. The coffin was wrenched open. He flinched at the sudden light, at the sudden reappearance of that pink suit, that damned triangle, looking down at him like his last moment in life was caught in a sadistic spiral. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was clearly teetering at the edge, that triangle would haunt his dreams until the end of his days.

He raised up trembling hands. “Please…” He didn’t even know why he still tried.

But the guard wasn’t looking at him. They were looking off to the side, pointing the rifle elsewhere. Through his cloud of panic and pain, he was dimly aware there was the sound of talking. No. He breathed in slowly, forcing the cloud to part. Not just talking. An argument.

Never the agreement… wait until the boss… what have you done with… I won’t… can’t make…

The guard stepped out of his view, and the argument stopped. When they stepped back, a second guard appeared. Only this one didn’t have a mask on. Even in an apron smeared in blood, it made him look startingly human.

The doctor sneered down at him in open disgust. “I hate live ones.” He took a rough hold of the wounded leg.

Gyeong-seok cried out in agony, and slipped into darkness.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju had forced herself to sleep some, but she woke instantly when the buzzer sounded. She was on her feet before anyone else. Perks of military training.

The cheerful announcer gave them half an hour before the next vote would commence. Just enough time for her to ensure everyone had made it through the night, and to take a quick trip to the bathroom. She gave herself a quick wash at the sink, ignoring the few nasty looks she was given by some of the other women. One would think, here at the brink of desperation, they’d find better things to do with their time.

When she felt somewhat less grimy, she went to check on Gi-hun. “Are you here?” she asked him, nudging his foot with hers when he didn’t reply immediately. He couldn’t afford to go away again. “We have a game to play.”

He looked up at her with a scowl. She’d take it. Better him riding on anger than drowning in sorrow. When the the guards came in, they uncuffed him. If they were disappointed he’d survived the night, they didn’t show it.

Hyun-ju went through the motions of voting. The motions of the staircase. Up, and sideways, and up, and on. She tried not to replay yesterday’s story, step by painful step. Every camera she shot. Every corner they’d won. Around her, players gasped and stared at the walls riddled with bullet holes. At the blood they hadn’t deemed to clean. Hyun-ju tried not to step in it. Tried not to think who had fallen where.

His face came to her anyway.

The new area was a big square. Building-like shapes to the left and right, with a flat area in the middle, and a thick line in the middle of that. A huge gumball machine stood front and center, surrounded by more triangle guards. The soldier in her told her the number before she realized she’d been counting. A mere 72 players left. And yet the amount of guards numbered close to twenty.

They fear us, Hyun-ju thought. There were only eight of them at the last game. Eight as well at the six-legged race. They’d been over 250 strong then. They could have rushed them. Why had none of them even considered it? They wouldn’t all have made it, no. But more than 72, surely. Perhaps even Young-mi. Or Prince Ch— 246, with his kind eyes. Too late, she thought, and for a moment she too, like Gi-hun, drowned in despair. She forced herself to suffer through it. She still had people here. She had to focus on the now. Survive the game. Get as many out as you can.

They get divided into two at random. Hyun-ju ending up on the same team as Gi-hun, Jun-hee, and Yong-sik. They are herded off to one side of the room, then given five minutes to strategize.

She glanced at Gi-hun, but his gaze was distant again, seeing something none of them can. So she steps up. Goes into sergeant mode. “The goal is to end up in the team with the most people. Our enemy’s tactic will probably be to steal a few of us, then try to guard them as closely as possible.” She hesitated. “If we play by the same tactic, it’ll probably end in utter chaos, and with no way to keep proper count until the very end. I’m not going to lie about the odds. Your best bet would be to let yourself get taken.”

The players looked around at each other in confusion.

“That’s right,” someone spoke. She’s astounded to find it’s Gi-hun. “The team with the most people wins. This team or that one, it doesn’t matter. So you let yourself get taken, and fast. Before they realize they’re taking too many.”

“But what if they push us out again at the last moment?” Jun-hee asked.

“Once you’re taken, move to the center of the group,” Hyun-ju said. “Find your friends. Link up. Don’t let them divide you. They need some of us to win the game, they can’t risk abandoning the entire cluster.” She glanced at the timer. “We still have some time. Let me show you some grips that are hard to break. Who here has played human chain before?”

With one minute left on the clock, they spread out across the line. All aside from Gi-hun, who sits down where he was standing.

“I’m going to need you on your feet,” Hyun-ju said calmly, already knowing he’s going to refuse.

Gi-hun shook his head. “This team needs at least one person on it, for the game to conclude.”

“I’m not letting you give up,” she frowned. “Not now.”

“Someone is dying here,” he snapped. “And I am done looking on while it’s someone else.”

“I can’t convince you, can I.”

He glanced pointedly at the clock. “Not in twenty seconds.”

It goes about as well as expected. The other team catches on to their scheme quickly, but by then most of them are over the line, and with the help of friends from the other side, they’ve quickly woven themselves into a tight ball of defiance. After that, it’s only a manner of running out the time. Not of the game, even, but of the desperation of the O’s, who can see their cut dwindling, and quickly figure out their fellow teammates make for much easier targets.

Hyun-ju holds firm at the outer edge, shouting out encouragements, occasionally lashing out with a quick elbow. She’s fairly sure she managed to bruise some ribs, and has broken at least one nose. They quickly learn to leave her alone, which was perfect, concerning her plan.

She should have known she wouldn't’t be alone.

Dae-ho beat her to the punch right as she was bracing to go. She cursed, and flew after. She could understand it. Seeing Jun-bae’s body had broken something in him, or rather it had rebroken something. She should have recognized the signs, should never have given him a gun in the first place. Dae-ho had woken up from his stupor only when the game had started, practically hauling Jun-hee over the line and into Yong-sik’s waiting arms. She’d assumed them all safe. Now here he was, playing the hero. Well. Two could play at that game.

She legged it, gaining on him, arriving at the line at the same time. Gi-hun, still sitting where he’d sat down, looked downright perplexed at their arrival. A blessing. If he'd been given time to think, he might have tried fighting them. But there’s two of them and only one of him, with the added advantage of their age. They shoot over the line with 21 seconds to spare. They get him to the human chain with 17.

“Incoming!” Dae-ho cried. The group opened up like a flower, hands grappling.

The shaman came out of nowhere. With a cry of sheer lunacy, she tackled Hyun-ju before she could latch on.

They both go down. Hyun-ju is strong, but what her opponent lacks in training, she makes up for in hysterics. When Hyun-ju finally managed to refind her footing, she’s much too close to the line for comfort, and entirely out of reach of the group. She risked a glance at the clock. Ten seconds. The shaman pushed and screamed at her, some nonsense about gods and revenge and whatever else to justify killing someone who had once saved her. Hyun-ju kept herself braced against the onslaught, can’t risk fighting back and going down in a heap that might roll the wrong way. All she needed was to keep her footing for six more seconds… five… four..

And then suddenly, with a calm, almost dreamlike expression, the shaman let go, and stepped aside. Number 6, with a wailing run, slammed into Hyun-ju. They both toppled over, and down. And over the line. It took Hyun-ju only a second to shove the woman off, but it’s a second she didn’t have to spare.

The timer beeped.

Cries of relief went up, punctuated by cries of despair on this side of the line. There’s six of them, in total. Hyun-ju stood up as the guards approached. Around her, the betrayed O’s scrambled away, or pleaded, or both. She kept her ground. She won’t die lying down. At least she’s the only X they’ll lose today.

“Hyun-juna!!”

She flinched. Geum-ja. First to count survivors, the first to notice they were one short. Hyun-ju didn’t turn, didn’t want to give the guards the satisfaction of her back. More than that, she’s sure she’ll lose it if she looked at their faces now. More cries for her rose up, as they realized one after the other that she ended up on the wrong side. Yong-sik’s voice. Dae-ho’s. Jun-hee. And triumphantly woven in between, the shaman, loudly declaring Hyun-ju cursed and bound for the underworld. Hyun-ju tuned it out, focused on the voices of her friends. Around her, the other eliminated players are gunned down.

It's almost a cruel thing, to have found friends here, right at the end.

One guard ran up to Hyun-ju. She almost took a step back at the sudden burst of activity: they’ve always moved slow and calculated before. The rifle is lifting, and he’s in range, and all she can think of is Hells. One more.

He’s flat on his back before he could fire. She made a grab for the rifle and rolled, using the force to twist it out of his grip. Up on one knee. Aim at his head. He reached out to her in clear desperation, even under suit and behind mask. “Hyun-ju-shi!”

It's a mere flicker of a moment. But in combat, hesitation kills.

The bullet hit her in the left shoulder. She didn’t even see the shot. And then she’s down, the breath knocked out of her, but Hyun-hu’s used to pain, and still armed…

A boot kicked her back down. A rifle, aimed at her face. The shot is deafening.

It also missed.

Hyun-ju stared up in frozen disbelief.

“Play dead,” the guard said. The guard, who at the very last moment, had nudged their rifle to the side. They lowered it now, walking away to help the first downed guard, who, Hyun-ju is sure of it, looked at her before she was able to hastily shut her eyes. But that one too, didn’t move in for the kill. She felt them standing there, just standing there, while the telltale beeping of the forklift approached.

Her friends were still crying her name.

She risked letting her head lull to the side, peeking through her lashes. They were all clustered at the edge of the line. Dae-ho shivering, hands pressed against his eyes. Jun-hee hovering right behind. Yong-sik checking over his mother, Geum-ja, her face wet from crying and blood. Blood? Who else got hurt? They weren’t supposed to lose anyone. Hyun-ju’s eyes darted around before she could stop herself. No, Gi-hun made it as well. There, with that grim, deep lined frown on his face. Their gazes met, and something flickered in his eyes. If he could tell she’s alive, it didn’t appear to improve his mood. If anything, his graveness only deepened.

They steal organs from the dead, he’d said. For a moment, Hyun-ju's breath actually stopped.

It’s only after she’d been lifted in the coffin, fighting everything she is to keep limp, that she realized the shaman’s voice has gone still.

“Player 44. Eliminated.”

The coffin closed, and she opened her eyes. Inside her skull, the shaman’s voice gave one last echo. You will see each other again in the underworld.

***

“Put your mask back on,” No-eul snapped, hurrying down the stone steps to the operating lair.

Walking in front, Gyeong-seok turned, wincing with the movement. The bullet to his leg hadn’t hit anything vital, she’d made sure of that, but getting tackled obviously hadn’t done him any good. “Nobody else is here,” he snapped back. “Aside from that doctor, who has already seen my face.”

“It’s still risky,” she maintained, rushing him down the rest of the way a smidge too fast for his comfort. But she was angry. This wasn’t part of the plan. They weren’t supposed to be back down here. She had planned to get him out, and only him. Hide him in plain sight until the ships came back, until she could stuff him in her car and drop him off at the hospital. He never even needed to know who she was, or why. Not that he hadn’t asked. Repeatedly.

She hadn’t accounted for his damn stubbornness.

“If it’s too risky, then why did you even bother getting me out?”

She ignored that, pushing into the dim operating room. The doctor instantly rose to his feet, from where she’d chackled him to some pipes. “She almost shot you.”

Gyeong-seok at least had the common sense to look rattled at that. “I told you I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing.”

“Doesn’t make it any less stupid.” She pointedly looked at the doctor by way of nudging her rifle his way. “We got another one incoming that needs patching up. Are you going to behave?”

“Do I have a choice?” he growled.

“Not if you want off this island alive, no.” She undid his chackles.

There was a clunk up above, a pause, and then the slam of the coffin as it fell down into the room. Gyeong-seok rushed forward.

“Wait!” No-eul shouted, but he was already lifting the lid. It banged suddenly upwards, hitting him full in the face. No-eul swiftly pointed her rifle at the coffin as Gyeong-seok, for the second time today, went down. “Don’t move.”

“No offense,” Hyun-ju breezed angrily. She was sitting up, bracing her wounded shoulder with her other arm. “But I'll take the bullet now, rather than after you steal all of my insides.”

“No!” Gyeong-seok scrambled up, hurriedly tugging his black hood down. “Hyun-ju-shi, don’t!”

Hyun-ju reflexively turned to keep them both in her line of sight. And froze.

For a while, the only sounds in the room were those of Gyeong-seok’s pained breathing, and the clinking of surgical tools.

No-eul looked impatiently from one to the other, as neither of them seemed inclined to dislocate their ongoing staring. “Are we all good?” She asked snippily. “Or are you going to try and shoot him in the face again?” A part of her was vindicated at the flash of shock that provoked.

“That was you?” Hyun-ju whispered.

“It’s ok.” Gyeong-seok smiled, albeit shakily, approaching her with his hands out. “It’s ok. I’m ok.” When he got close enough, Hyun-ju grasped his arm, as if touching him was the only way she could be sure he was actually there. He patted her hand awkwardly. “They are here to help.”

***

“No,” the mysterious triangle guard told her flat out. The three of them were standing in another underground room, away from the doctor’s prying eyes and ears.

“But there are people in there that still need help,” Hyun-ju insisted. They’d been having this conversation since during the operation, since there was no anesthesia on site and Hyun-ju needed something to distract her from the pain. It was a clean shot, in and through, and the wound had been bandaged tight, but it still hurt something fierce. She was frustrated. It didn’t help that she was trying to heave herself into one of those damned pink onesies one armed.

“I didn’t come here to get you all out.”

“Don’t bother asking them why they are here,” 246 said. Hyun-ju felt she really ought to get around to asking for his name. “I’ve asked. They won’t even take off the mask.”

“Then why—” Hyun-ju began, then flinched. 246 had reached out to help her get her problematic shoulder into the sleeve. Which would have been really helpful, actually, only she hadn’t been expecting it.

“Sorry,” he winced, as she stumbled back. “I just wanted to… can I…”

“Sorry,” she mirrored. She awkwardly inched back into his personal space.

He gently lifted her arm so she could slip it into the offending sleeve. And then, without a flicker of hesitation, with a fluidity as if he did this every single day, he pulled up her zipper.

Hyun-ju’s mind went a bit fuzzy at the edges. It had been a long time since anyone but herself had touched her clothes. She caught his gaze as it flicked up from the zipper, his hands at her collar, and he started, stepping back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Force of habit.”

That, Hyun-ju decided, might have been the strangest thing she’d heard all day. And it had been a very strange day.

The triangle guard shoved a mask in Hyun-ju’s hands. “Your number is 5. Follow our lead, stay low. When the games end the day after tomorrow, we’ll be loaded onto ships. Once we’re back on the mainland, I will drop you off somewhere safe.”

Hyun-ju looked at the mask without taking it. “You would have me do nothing while my friends die?”

“You have known these people for all of three days. They are strangers.”

“Well at least I’ve seen their faces,” Hyun-ju pointedly said.

The guard grew silent. “What would you have me do, then?”

Hyun-ju breathed with rekindled hope. “Help us reach the command center. The VIP’s don’t arrive until tomorrow, yes? We can use the distraction of their preparation.”

“Too risky.”

Hyun-ju swiftly pivoted. “Then show us the way outside. There’s a rescue team out there looking for us. If I can send off a signal—”

“They block all signals.”

“Then we will start a fire.”

“They will find you before your team can get here,” the guard snapped. “They have the place rigged with bombs, ready to go up at a moments notice to bury the evidence. All the evidence. Do you understand? You can’t win this.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” 246 quietly interjected. “She’s special forces.”

“Ex-special forces,” Hyun-ju corrected, feeling a bit sidewinded by the sudden assist.

The guard seemed to consider her. For one hopeful heartbeat, Hyun-ju thought she had them. But then the guard turned to 246. “And you? Are you really willing to risk your own life for this?”

“I—” 246 began, but the guard cut him off, suddenly venomous.

“What of Na-yeon? You’d have her wake up in that hospital bed, calling out for a father who will never return?”

His face morphed into shocked despair. “How do you… who…” he staggered back as if shot, sagging against the wall.

“Take it from me,” the guard growled. “If you don’t do everything in your power to get back to her, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Whatever pathetic little of it remains.” They turned, abruptly, and stormed off.

In the sudden and perplexed vacuum of their leaving, only one sound remained.

246 was hyperventilating.

“Hey. Hey.” Hyun-ju took his hands, tried to catch his gaze. “Look at me.”

His eyes found hers. They were glazed with panic, his breath coming short, and much too fast.

“Lean against the wall for me. There. We’re going to breathe together, yes? In…” She breathed in, keeping hold of his hands to ground him. “Hold. A little longer. Out… slowly…. Hold again. Good. In… that’s ok, that’s ok, we’ll go again, shhh, you can do it… in… hold… good, you’re doing so good, now out again…” She offered up a little smile as his breath, eventually, finally, evened out. He tried to return it, hands shaky in hers.

And then, to her immense horror, he started crying.

Hyun-ju wasn’t any good with this. She hadn’t exactly been raised in an environment where emotions were so honestly displayed. Let alone dealt with in a healthy manner. Leading a military unit in comparison was easy. What did someone do in situations like these?

What would Geum-ja do?

She reached out and hugged him. It wasn’t the safest thing to do. Hyun-ju knew how people could react to her, to the idea of her. Especially men. It was a calculated risk, and she was fully prepared for him to flinch, perhaps even shove her away. Instead, he threw himself fully into her arms, hiding his face against her shoulder. He cried quietly, his body shaking against hers. She held him slightly awkwardly. Someone, somewhere, was making soft, soothing noises. She realized it was her. That she’d started stroking the nape of his neck. Wondered distantly how it would feel, to have someone out there to care about so deeply, to make one cry into a stranger's arms.

She rubbed soothing circles on his back. “Tell me about her.”

And he did. About his little girl. About her cancer. How it was just the two of them, how he was all she had, how he had left her all alone in a hospital, unable to pay for her treatment. How she loves drawing, and strawberries, and bunnies. How he’s afraid he’ll die here and leave her alone. How he’s afraid to return alive, only to find an emptied bed.

At the end of it he drew back, wrung out, his face a blotchy mess, but calmer than he was before. Hyun-ju thought of Jun-hee gently wiping Dae-ho’s face, and she tried it out as best she could. Wondered, not so distantly, that he probably didn’t know about her, seeing as he didn’t even flinch away from that.

It’s not important.

“Gyeong-seok,” he whispered.

Her hand stilled on his face. “Sorry?”

“My name. Park Gyeong-seok.” He chuckled. “If you’re going to let me cry all over you, you should at least know my name.”

She offered him a smile. “I’ve had worse. We’ve both had worse.”

They both rose when the guard returned. For a tense moment, they simply stare at the two ex-players. And then they reached up to remove the mask.

“My name is No-eul.” She gave Hyun-ju a calculated stare. “Are you really special forces?”

Hyun-ju nodded. “Sergeant first class. Dishonorably discharged.”

No-eul seemed to think it over, then nodded. “I’m ex-military as well. Defector of the North. You really think we can do this with just the two of us?”

“Three,” Gyeong-seok said.

“No,” both women chorused. Then looked at each other.

“You should get out,” Hyun-ju said. “There… there might not be another chance again.”

Gyeong-seok’s face, still puffy, set with grim determination. “Whatever the plan, it'll be easier with three, yes? Then I will stay.”

No-eul stared at him, as unreadable as if she still wore a mask. “Are you sure?”

“Nobody will think less of you,” Hyun-ju added.

“No?” He chuckled dryly. “I would. Those people in there have families too. They deserve a chance to return to them.”

Not me, Hyun-ju thought. Everyone I have is right in here.

And it was high time she got them out.

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok stared out over the water, his hands gripping the railing of the boat. It was a cramped affair; there had only been the two rescue boats, while the number of surviving players numbered, at the end of it all, 68.

Out. They’d made it out. The sky was overcast and the wind was tugging at his clothes and he was sure there was rain about to come blowing in, but they’d made it.

“Gyeong-seok-shi.”

Hyun-ju appeared next to him. She looked so different now, without the green player outfit. Softer. Perhaps it was the sweater, light purple, a color so different from the place they were leaving behind. Or perhaps it was simply because she was no longer holding a rifle, barking out commands. She held up a black square, and it took him a second to register it was a power bank. “Does your phone need charging? We’re trying to give everyone the opportunity to call home.”

Gyeong-seok pulled out his phone. Which was, indeed, after four days of being locked in a box, dead. He plugged it in and stared at the screen as it started charging. Kept staring as it lit back up.

“You alright?” she asked softly.

His fingers clenched around the phone. He didn’t look up. “If I call…” He started as her hand came to rest on his. Stared up into her kind eyes.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shook his head. “No. No, you’ve done enough. This is…” He yanked the phone out of the charger, dialed the number before he could change his mind. Waited, breathlessly, for the ringing to stop. “Good day, this is Park Gyeong-seok, calling about his daughter? Park Na-yeon. I’ve had… I’ve had an accident, and I was unable to make it to the hospital, but I am on my way now. Is she…” The answer took forever to come. When it finally did, he sagged with relief. “Thank… thank you. Please tell the doctor I apologize, and that I will be there as soon as possible. Thank you. Thank you.”

It's only when Hyun-ju gently squeezed his hand, that he realized he’d been holding on to her this entire time. He sheepishly let go, handing her back the power bank. “Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m glad she’s… I’m glad.” She held up the power bank. “I better keep going.”

“Can I help?” He’d just been standing around, staring at the ocean, being absolutely useless.

She gave him a look tinged with sternness. “Yes. You can allow yourself some rest, before the rest of your day catches up with you.”

So he did. Kept hold of the railing. Willed the wind to take away the tension. The threatening rain never came.

When they finally approached the shore, the players drummed together, eager to get back on land. Eager to put as much distance between them and the games as they could. Gyeong-seok could see Hyun-ju shoulder herself to the front, occasionally wincing as someone bumped into her wounded one.

She held up a clipboard. “People! I know you all have places you want to be, but let us get this done in an orderly fashion. I think we can all agree we’ve had enough chaos. Now, we have called in enough taxis for all of you, and you do not have to bother about paying them. Please line up when your name is called, so we can disembark orderly and safely. Once you do, take the first available taxi at the front. Understood?”

There were a few dissenting murmurs, but most of the players simply shuffled and nodded.

“Good." She looked at her clipboard. "Park Gyeong-seok.”

He started. Made his way through the crowd, muttering apologies along the way. Took up position at the front of the line. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Her eyes briefly flickered to him in between two names, in wordless acknowledgment. He was hit with the sudden realization that this, all of this, it was ending. That once he stepped off that plank, he wouldn’t be 246 anymore.

The outside world felt like a warped dream. None of it seemed real, after a lifetime of bunk beds and gun shots. Not the taxi, driving both too fast and too slow, not the pavement of the street as he finally stumbled out, not the hospital lights, stinging and bright. He paced impatiently inside the elevator, threw himself between the doors before they were halfway open. A nurse scolded him for running in the hallway, but he couldn’t stop, not even to apologize, because this was the room, this was the door…

“Appa!”

Gyeong-seok threw himself down next to the bed, looked into the face of his daughter, tired, weak, ill, alive. And cried.

***

“That’s the last of them.” Hyun-ju wedged the clip board under her arm. Aside from Geum-ja holding up the line with goodbyes, insisting they all meet up again later, it had all gone rather smoothly. She looked at what remained of the players. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were still here, along with a few others she hadn’t gotten to know during the games. Not all of them had anywhere safe to return to. But that was alright, because while other people had been calling home, bracing themselves to return to the real world, Hyun-ju had sat down with Gi-hun, and come up with a plan.

For starters, his place had plenty of vacancies.

She helped them all get installed into the tacky hotel rooms, claiming the closest one to the exit for herself. Not that anyone should be coming for them, but she’d need some time to start believing that properly. She had her own place she could have returned to, but it’s not like there was anyone waiting for her there. Nobody that needed her like these people did. She double checked on them, one by one, asking if they needed anything urgent, if they wanted any takeout, as none of them had eaten anything for half a day. A trembling leaf of a boy, Min-su, offered to go get it.

With that done, she went and knocked on Gi-hun’s door. He took a while to answer. Took a while longer for his eyes to really focus on her. “Ready to get to work?”

Gi-hun made a doctor’s appointment for Jun-hee. Another for a follow up on Hyun-ju’s shoulder. While he made phone call after phone call, Hyun-ju worked on the list. Jun-ho, the police officer who’d been part of the rescue operation, had given them the binder of this year’s players. She filtered out the survivors, along with their contact information, and what was known about their debt. Arranged them from top priority to lowest. The money on the island had been confiscated as evidence, but Gi-hun had readily offered up his own. She felt zero shame for moving Gyeong-seok all the way to the top. His was urgent, after all. She didn’t know a whole lot about cancer, but she knew it could be brutal. In comparison, Yon-sik still had a guaranteed month.

When Gi-hun looked over her work, he grunted. “Good. We’ll pay the red zone as soon as possible. Today, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m up for it,” she nodded.

“If you can double check where the money has to go, I’ll prepare the correct amounts.” He handed her back the list. “You forgot to add yourself.”

She penciled herself in at the bottom.

Plans were easy. Leading was easy. It was the emotions that were the hard part. She’d make room for those later. When she no longer had people to take care of.

***

It was all over the news. On all the socials. The games that shook the nation. The island that killed. And everyone seemed to have an opinion on it.

Gyeong-seok avoided it as best he could. Which wasn’t easy, as it was easily the talk of the year. He found himself weaving around clusters of shocked conversation, blocking off any queries as to his own opinion. At least the faces of all survivors, blessedly, were being omitted from the reports. Still, if Gyeong-seok had to overhear one more person declaring they would never be that stupid to sign up for games like these, and wasn’t it their own fault to begin with for getting into so much debt anyway, he might start chucking gonggi stones at someone. Then again, that would probably give him away. So better not.

“So,” the cancer specialist doctor said, motioning for Gyeong-seok to sit down in his office. “You survived those games.”

He tensed up in instant panic. “How did you…”

“You’ve been missing from your daughter’s side for exactly four days. Not exactly a hard guess.”

Gyeong-seok shrank down in his chair.

The doctor took off his glasses, and sighed. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s an incredibly brave thing you did.”

Gyeong-seok looked up in surprise.

“It’s a lottery, this life,” the doctor gravely went on. “Nobody knows this better than us that as deal with the faults in the human body.” He opened a folder on his desk. “They’re saying on the news that all that prize money got confiscated.”

His heart dropped. “Doctor, I promise I’ll get the money somehow. I—”

The doctor raised up a hand. “Na-yeon’s treatment has been paid for.”

Gyeong-seok heard that wrong. Surely he’d heard that wrong.

“It’s been paid for,” the doctor repeated. “In perpetuity.”

“Can you… can you say that one more time, please?” he weakly said.

The doctor slid over the file. “A beneficiary has paid for the first round of treatments, as well as signed an agreement to pay any other, should they become necessary.”

Gyeong-seok stared at the paperwork. At the names, signed at the bottom. Cho Hyun-ju, on the instructions of Seong Gi-hun. While they had all run back towards their lives, she was still out there, taking charge. Looking out for them all.

"We can start up treatment today, as soon as you sign off on it. Now, I can’t make any guarantees, but as we discussed before, the results of this new drug have been very promising. I truly believe this is Na-yeon’s best chance.”

Gyeong-seok had never signed anything so fast in his life.

***

Life had started to spin again, and Gyeong-seok was doing his best to catch up. When he called into work to apologize for his missed days, fully expecting to get fired, he was hit with a mere verbal warning, told to take the next week off, then come back in on Monday. Not very hard to connect the dots indeed.

He spent most of his days until then at the hospital, only really going home to sleep, eat at least one meal that didn’t come out of a vending machine, and shower. No matter how scalding hot he turned it, or how hard he scrubbed, it felt like he could never get the grubby feel of the games to entirely leave him. After two nights of fitful sleeping in an empty apartment, he gave up and requested a parental bed at the hospital. He knew they gently urged parents to not spent the entirety of their hours there, but he just couldn’t get himself to care. And if this ended up with Na-yeon returning home with a bad habit of expecting her appa to sleep in the same room as hers, he’d gladly fucking take it over leaving her behind, ever again.

It was on the second day of him practically living at the hospital like this, standing in front of the vending machines, debating how much sugar a body could take at his age, that he was tapped on the shoulder.

The face came as a shock to him.

“It’s Dae-ho,” the man grinned. “I’m sorry, but I only ever knew your number.”

“Gyeong-seok,” he finally managed. “I’m sorry, it’s…”

“It’s weird to see each other on the outside,” Dae-ho nodded. “I know. Did you come to visit?”

Gyeong-seok opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Visit who?”

***

“Oh my gosh look at the baby!” Gyeong-seok gushed. “Jun-hee-shi, congratulations!”

Jun-hee, propped up in the bed, holding the tiniest baby ever, shot him a tired smile. “Thank you.”

Gyeong-seok beamed down at the sleepy bundle. “Is it a boy or a girl? Did you pick a name?”

“It’s a girl. I didn’t decide on a name yet.”

“Did everything go ok? Any complications? Are you very sore? Tired? Is your milk coming in ok?”

Jun-hee blinked in stunned surprise.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gyeong-seok chuckled, self-consciously. “I didn’t mean to be rude. How are you?”

“I’m… tired,” she confessed, shifting somewhat uncomfortably. “Thank you,” she smiled at Dae-ho, who had rushed in to rearrange her pillows.

There was a knock at the door.

“Look who I found!” Dae-ho exclaimed, as Geum-ja and Yon-sik poured in, the latter carrying a huge box with a bow on it.

“Ahh, it’s prince charming!” Geum-ja waved at him excitedly, but completely bypassed him to go and hug Jun-hee.

Dae-ho hurriedly intercepted her. “Ah ah! Disinfect your hands first!”

“Ahh, of course, of course.” Geum-ja backed off and flailed at her son. “Yon-sikya, you too, put down that box and disinfect your hands, go on.”

“I’ll give you all some space,” Gyeong-seok smiled, moving towards the door. “It was very nice to see you Jun-hee-shi, congratulations again.”

“Stay!” Dae-ho protested. “Erm.” He sheepishly turned to Jun-hee. “That is. It’s your room. And your baby. Sorry.”

“That’s ok.” She smiled at Gyeong-seok. “Please stay. It’s good to see a familiar face. We can all catch up.”

“But do disinfect your hands,” Dae-ho seriously said.

***

Hyun-ju didn’t really like hospitals. They were a necessary means to an end, yes, and a good thing they had them too. But for her they always came with pain, and a letting go of control. Loneliness as well, as she lied there and recovered. It was the one part she was looking forward the least, once she’d manage to go back in. She shook the thoughts out of her head as she made for the room number Dae-ho had texted her. Today was about Jun-hee. She could smile for her friends. Celebrate the wins.

As she reached for the door, which had been left partly open, she paused as she recognized a voice.

“No, no, you can’t just say things like that and then not elaborate.”

Hyun-ju hesitated. That was Gyeong-seok. She wasn’t overly surprised he’d found his way here. After all, it was the same hospital. Only he sounded… upset?

“Just forget it, I really shouldn’t have said anything.” That was Yon-sik, and he sounded nervous. Granted, he often sounded nervous. It was sort of a baseline for him.

“Well, you did, and now I’d very much like an explanation.” There was a hint of anger underlining Gyeong-seok’s words. Not his usual baseline at all. Hyun-ju pressed her hand to the door, planning to walk in, to go and defuse whatever situation this was.

“Gyeong-seok-shi,” Dae-heo sighed. “Hyun-ju is trans.”

Hyun-ju froze.

“… What’s that?” Gyeong-seok said, confused.

He hadn’t known. He didn’t know.

“You know, when—" Geum-ja started up, only to be hastily cut off by her son.

“Omma, don’t make this weird! Trans, as in transgender. You know… Male to female?”

The room went silent. Hyun-ju shut her eyes. Braced herself.

“Oh thank fuck,” Gyeong-seok breathed.

Hyun-ju jolted, as if her entire body had missed a step. What?

“Gyeong-seokya, don’t swear in front of the baby!” Geum-ja scolded.

“Well then don’t scare me like that!” Gyeong-seok cried. “With your ‘Hyun-ju needed the prize money for surgeries’. Are you kidding me? I thought she was dying!” The room erupted into laughter. “Oh, sure, laugh, go ahead. I’m the weird one here. Talking about expensive surgeries, what else was I supposed to think?”

“Gyeong-seok-shi, either stop shouting or hand over the baby.” That was Jun-hee, polite to a fault, yet firm with motherly fire.

“Nooo I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll be quieter, I can be quiet.”

Hyun-ju stared at the door, the voices behind them quieting down into a comfortable murmur, punctuated with chuckles and cooing over the baby.

He didn’t care.

There was a room full of people behind this door that didn’t care.

She turned around and walked the length of the hallway, slowly, to the vending machines and back. To give the room enough time to reset. To give herself time to get her emotions in check.

“Do you have room for one more?” she smiled shily, poking her head past the door, smile broadening as they enthusiastically cheered her arrival.

Jun-hee beckoned her in from her place of honor in the bed, even though the room seemed already filled to bursting. Dae-ho was sitting cross legged on the foot end, relaxed and happy. Proud uncle looked good on him, Hyun-ju decided, so much better than—no. Leave the games where they lie. Only happiness allowed in here. She smiled a greeting at Geum-ja, who’d been given the best chair, and at Yon-sik, leaning on the windowsill. In hindsight, she should probably have realized she wouldn’t be able to avoid looking in Gyeong-seok’s direction. Seeing as he was still holding the baby. On the other hand, said baby gave her the perfect excuse not to face him just yet.

Hyun-ju stared down at the bright new person in his arms. So tiny. So sleepy. So absolutely perfect.

“Do you want to hold her?” Jun-hee asked.

Hyun-ju chuckled nervously. “I’m not… I’m not very good with babies.” It didn’t help that she had been raised to believe they would never be her problem. Didn’t help that they never would be. That a part of her would always ache, whenever she saw parents hugging their children. That she wasn’t sure she could take it, to hold something she could never have.

“Oh, it’s easy.” Gyeong-seok rose. She took a startled step back. “It’s ok, you got this.” He offered her the baby.

“HANDS!” Dae-ho bellowed.

Everyone jumped. Including the baby, who hickuped, and started crying. Hyun-ju hurried to disinfect her hands, while Gyeong-seok made soothing noises, softly rocking the baby like he’d done this a million times before. Which, of course, he probably had. The baby’s scrunched up face smoothed out as she drifted back off to sleep.

“You still want to try?”

Hyun-ju hesitantly raised her arms, then dropped them again. Up close, the baby looked even more perfect, and so incredibly fragile. Hyun-ju worriedly glanced up, forgetting for a moment that she was avoiding confronting whatever she would find in Gyeong-seok’s face. Found it alight with nothing but an encouraging smile.

He really didn’t care.

“You just have to make sure to support the head and neck, like this, see?” He showed her. “Here…” He placed the baby in her arms, gently dislodging himself. “There you go, well done.”

Hyun-ju looked down at the tiny bundle of new life in her arms. And promptly started crying.

“Oh, oh no,” Dae-ho jumped off the bed, “this was a bad idea, Hyun-juna, I’m sorry…”

“No!” Hyun-ju pulled back from Dae-heo’s intervening arms. “It’s… it’s ok. I’m ok.” She sniffled, before smiling up at Jun-hee. “She’s perfect.”

Gyeong-seok stepped in close to beam down at the baby. And then, as if he didn’t even think about it, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do, his hand came up to rub soothing circles on her back.

She did her very best not to cry on the baby.

Hyun-ju might not be perfect. But these people, right here. They didn’t care. And on the good days, such as this one, that could be enough.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju put down her phone and made a note on her list. It had taken her and Gi-hun less than a week to pay off everyone’s debts. But for most people, this had simply reset them to zero, with nothing to fall back on. Releasing them into the wild could easily lead to having them fall in between the cracks all over again. Building any foundation at all would take time. So they’d been working on getting people back into jobs, or getting them housing.

It wasn’t until Hyun-ju had asked Gi-hun to drive Min-su to a job interview, that she’d realized Gi-hun hadn’t left the hotel since… well, since they got here. So she’d all but punted him out the next day, with the aid of Dae-ho, to go and see the baby. None of them were in danger of slipping back into the cracks more than Gi-hun was.

It meant she was starting on the follow-ups all by herself, but that was alright. So far, two ex-players had lost their jobs on account of their inexplicable absence. Two others were struggling with catching up on rent. A few were simply happy to have her call, happy to talk to someone who had seen what they had seen. One had cried for ten minutes straight, while Hyun-ju made understanding noises, using her free hand and Gi-hun’s computer to find him a therapist in his neighborhood.

Not all of them were happy to talk. She’d been abruptly asked never to call again, screamed at, or hung up on without a word. She didn’t take it personal. She sent those people a closing message, ensuring this would be the last time they reached out, but leaving them with contact information should they ever change their mind. Should the games ever catch up with them in their dreams.

Her eyes flickered back to the top of the list. She’d skipped Gyeong-seok. She didn’t really know why. Every two other names or so she’d dial his number, only to undail it again. Which made no sense, yet she kept doing it anyway. Kept telling herself he was probably too busy listening to important doctor talk. Or that he wouldn’t be able to pick up his phone in a hospital. As if him not picking up the phone when she called was something to be nervous about. Somehow.

Making a decision, she typed him a text message. He could answer that whenever he had the time. Or ignore, if he so chose.

Unknown number: This is Hyun-ju, checking in. How are you and Na-yeon? Anything else you need?

Feeling silly for no rational reason at all, she got up to go make herself a coffee. When she came back to her phone, she had a reply. A warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee travelled through her.

He’d sent her a selfie of him and Na-yeon. Hyun-ju hadn’t fully realized just how young she was. She was sitting up in her hospital bed, pale, bald, with tubes running from her nose and arm. It didn’t seem to bother her much though, as the same arm was holding a crayon in her little fist, poised over a colorful drawing in progress. Na-yeon was looking up at the camera with a toothy grin, where her dad was pointing. She looked tired, but happy. They both did.

She stared at the picture for a long time.

Hyun-ju: So you need more paper, check.

The reply came immediately.

Gyeong-seok: Don’t tell on anyone, but the nurses steal it out of the printer for her.

Hyun-ju: With that face, I can believe it. How do you ever say no to that?

Gyeong-seok: With great difficulty.

She smiled at her phone.

Hyun-ju: She looks happy.

Gyeong-seok: You didn’t see her when they had to change her IV today. But yes, she’s doing… hopeful.
Gyeong-seok: Thank you for asking.

Hyun-ju: And how is her dad doing?

Three dots appeared. Vanished. Appeared again.

Gyeong-seok: That’s kind of a big question.

Wasn’t that the truth.

Hyun-ju: How about the basics? Do you still have a job? Place to stay?

Gyeong-seok: Yes, all good there. I think my boss knows. Only got a verbal warning. I’m going back tomorrow.

'That must get lonely for Na-yeon', she typed. Hurriedly untyped it. What was she doing? That was none of her business, and way over the line. Like he wouldn’t already be feeling like a heel for having to leave her tomorrow.

Hyun-ju: Let us know if you need anything. Anything at all.

Gyeong-seok: I will.

Gyeong-seok: Thank you for looking out for us.

***

Gyeong-seok walked up to the birth-ward desk of the hospital. “Good day. I don’t want to bother Kim Jun-hee outside of visiting hours, but I was wondering if she needed me to pick anything up while I was out today? I’m currently staying up with my daughter in the… on the third floor. Could I leave my number with you to pass along? It’s Park Gyeong-seok. She knows who I am.”

The nurse took the piece of paper. “I’ll pass it along. Thank you for not simply barging in.”

“Of course.” As a parent, he knew visiting hours were limited for the benefit of the patients as much as for hospital workings. How tiring those first few days with a newborn could be. Trying to find a rhythm that worked, trying to fit sleep and showering in between feedings and visits. To readjust your sense of family from two to three.

Jun-hee hadn’t said anything about a father, as far as he was aware. But he doubted she would ever be truly alone. Dae-ho didn’t look like the type to run out on her, no matter what it was they had going on between them. And Geum-ja seemed adamant to slot herself into the role of grandma. Still. It never hurt to have the extra help. He sure could have used some, once the curveballs had hit.

He remembered how proud he’d been, to step out of the hospital, like he was doing now, carrying Na-yeon to their car, to bring her home. How none of them had known how soon they would be back.

Becoming a parent had been hard. Becoming a single parent had been… well. It was what it was.

Stepping into work was strange. He’d made sure to arrive well on time, so he could check in with his boss. With the way she kept glancing at him it was doubly confirmed she knew why he’d been absent, but she didn’t bring it up. Simply asked him if he wanted to use vacation days to patch up the deficit, or if they were marking them as unpaid days. He chose the latter. He’d rather save the vacation days for if Na-yeon… when Na-yeon was allowed out the hospital. When he could bring her back home.

His colleagues didn’t ask him where he’d been. Probably they assumed it had something to do with Na-yeon; The fact that he wasn’t bringing her in wasn’t missed. They greeted him overly warmly, tinged with unspoken worry. He didn’t offer up any updates. He didn’t want to jinx it.

He set up his gear in his usual spot, finding comfort in the simple act of slotting his utensils into place. It was early still, but the sun was already warm, promising a hot and humid day. But he had his hat, and his water bottle. He’d been locked away from the sky, driven to the edge of hopelessness. He wasn’t going to complain.

The normalcy of it all hit him like a train. That none of these people, walking around the park, chatting about the weather and the rides and the possibility of a balloon, none of them knew. That he’d never be able to tell anyone, and even if he did, they would never understand. Could never understand, because they hadn’t been there. How deeply, absurdly lucky he was, to be sitting here, out in the sun, while he could just as easily have ended up dead, wrapped in a pink bow.

Gyeong-seok had lamented his luck plenty, over the last few years. Such a fickle thing it was, to have cursed his daughter, yet carried him safely out of the games to return him to her. Luck, he thought, and people. People who were still looking out for them even now.

He slid out his phone, and stared at yesterday’s message. But who was looking out for her?

***

Hyun-ju was looking at housing for Jun-hee. She was going to be discharged soon, and while it technically didn’t bother anyone that there would soon be a baby at the hotel, Jun-hee certainly deserved better. It was a frustrating affair, as housing was incredibly expensive. While Gi-hun’s prize money was not insubstantial, and he kept insisting he wanted none of it leftover for himself, it still felt wrong to be careless with money people had effectively died for. So she was crunching numbers. Jun-hee wouldn’t be able to work for a while still, and then once she did, there was day-care to consider. Hyun-ju had always sort of been aware it wasn’t easy to raise kids, but she hadn’t completely understood how horribly expensive it was as well.

She glanced up from her budgeting when her phone lighted up with a message.

Gyeong-seok: This is Gyeong-seok, checking in. How are you doing?

She stared at it. Hesitated. Typed ‘I’m fine’, deleted it again, typed ‘that’s kind of a big question,’, deleted it again, then glanced across the room. Gi-hun was quietly talking on his phone with Jun-ho, his table piled high with paperwork. They were trying to build a case against the VIPs, but it was slow going.

Hyun-ju: Gi-hun needs therapy but is refusing to go.

Gyeong-seok: Unsurprising. It’s good for him you are there. How are you?

She frowned at her phone. All things considered, she couldn’t exactly complain. She was back on a steady dose of estrogen. Surgery and Thailand were still the plan, but those could wait. She had people to look out for first. She had a purpose.

Hyun-ju: Frustrated. I’m looking into options for Jun-hee and the baby. How does a single parent afford daycare?

Gyeong-seok: I don’t. I usually take her to work with me. I know it’s not ideal.

She tried to picture him going into work. He didn’t strike her as the suit and tie type, but then nobody really did, if your first impression of them had been in a numbered track suit. What was his job again? She pulled up the binder, leafing through to his page.

“I’m going out,” Gi-hun said.

She blinked up in surprise. “Of your own volitation?”

“Jun-ho wants to show me some more paperwork. Said it would be easier over lunch.” He grabbed his keys, paused at the door. “You should get out too. It’s a nice day.”

She ponderously looked down at Gyeong-seok’s file. “I think I just might.”

***

It took a while for Hyun-ju to find him. The amusement park wasn’t that big, nor was it particularly crowded on a school day, but the park still had many nooks and crannies. Also, Gyeong-seok was wearing a disguise in the form of a sun hat.

It made him look adorably dorky.

Suddenly self-conscious, she slowed her walking, seeking cover behind some trees. Texting to checkup was one thing, but going over to someone’s work just like that? Surely that was a breach of privacy.

Hyun-ju was feeling silly. She didn’t like feeling silly. You shared a dormitory with this man, she told herself. You’ve been dragged and stuffed into a colored room by him, played dead next to him, gone through combat next to him, gone to the underworld and back. If that doesn’t make us friends, then I don’t know what does, and friends are allowed to visit friends at work…. right?

She pulled out her phone.

Hyun-ju: That hat certainly is a choice.

From her hiding spot, she could see him instantly reach for his phone. When he looked at the screen, his face lit up with a smile. The sight of it made something twinge, deep inside Hyun-ju’s chest. She chalked it up to nerves. Then his face scrunched up on confusion, before he sharply looked up, scanning around.

If she thought he’d looked happy before when he’d spotted her text, it was nothing compared to when his eyes found hers. The nervous twinge in her chest intensified. Didn’t let up as she shyly waved and walked over.

“I didn’t realize you did checkups in person,” he said, still smiling. It was the sort of smile that used his entire face. It gave him little crow feet. And dimples. And a sparkle in his eyes that left her just a little breathless.

Left her finally recognizing that tight feeling in her chest for what it was.

Hyun-ju wasn’t an idiot. She might have been late in figuring out certain aspects in her life. But she’d been in love before. Not often, but enough to recognize the shape of it. And she definitely had a type. Gyeong-seok was kind, and he was loyal, and warm, and alright, yes, he was incredibly good looking. Unfairly so. Even in a track suit. Or a floppy summer hat.

She focused on the hat now, using it as a lightning rod. “I’m sorry, I’m just momentarily speechless, seeing it up close.”

“I know,” he grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the brim. “But I’m out here all day, and it’s going to be a hot one.”

She carefully set aside this newly identified feeling. Returned to safer ground. “Is this a temporary gig? Your file didn’t say how long you’ve been working here.”

“It’s… an end to a means, yeah.” Gyeong-seok glanced around as a group of park visitors ambled by. “Could you… could you sit down, pretend you’re a customer? I’m not supposed to talk to people without working.”

“Ah, eh. Sure.” Hyun-ju sat down on the little stool, while Gyeong-seok settled himself behind his easel. “It can’t be easy, to work outside all day.”

“It’s alright,” he shrugged, picking up a pencil. “I used to work at an architect firm, but that became untenable once… well. I needed someplace that didn’t include taking work back home. And they let me bring Na-yeon along, even though it isn’t exactly ideal. She likes to run off. I can’t really blame her. It’s boring for her, sitting still all day.”

“Being bound to a hospital bed can’t be easy for her,” Hyun-ju said.

“She hates it,” he sighed, glancing up at her, then back at his paper. “But she’s a fighter. And we have hope now, thanks to you.”

He looked so honestly grateful, Hyun-ju had to tell the wiggly feeling to stay put all over again. “It wasn’t just me. It was all of us.”

“But you’re the one still putting in the work.” Insistent eyes flitted up at her. Dropped back down.

“Me and Gi-hun.” An unpleasant awareness was creeping over her. “Are you actually drawing me?”

Gyeong-seok tilted his head with a quirk to his mouth. “Might as well, no?”

“Waste of paper,” she muttered, shuffling uncomfortably.

He paused his sketching. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not a waste.” He looked legitimately confused, with a hint of upset. “Why would it be?”

“Because I’m not… exactly…” she stuttered to a stop. Anger had flashed through Gyeong-seok’s eyes.

“Not exactly what?” he said. He was looking at her in a way that communicated very clearly he wouldn’t let this go without an answer. It was probably a dad thing.

“… pretty,” she finished lamely.

He stared at her for a while longer, before huffing out a sad sigh. “I had a feeling you would say that.” He brought the pencil back up, eyes flitting from paper to her with an intensity that was making it hard to sit still.

“…What are you doing?”

“Proving you wrong.”

“That’s not…” she began, but he lifted up a stern finger, fixing her with an even firmer stare, and how, how had it taken her this long to realize how undeniably hot he was? It really was incredibly unfair. She closed her mouth.

“Good,” he muttered, returning to his work with a smile.

Hyun-ju, very carefully, did not squirm. She did however cross her legs. For reasons.

For a while they both sat in silence. Gyeong-seok worked, while she fixed her eyes on his hat, and focused on her breathing. If she willed herself to forget he was studying her features, it felt actually rather peaceful, to be sitting out here in the sun, with him.

“There.” He put the pencil down with a pleased smile. He took hold of the picture, and started turning it around.

She jolted up from her seat. “That’s alright, you can just… you can just keep that.”

“You don’t want to see it?” He pouted. Why was even that attractive on him?

“I don’t even have cash on me to pay you,” she babbled. “I shouldn’t have bothered you at your work.”

“You’re not a bother,” he kept on pouting. “I like your company.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” She shot him an apologetic smile. “I should get back to work myself. It was nice seeing… it was nice.” She briskly walked away, feeling decidedly hotter than she could blame on the sun.

It was nice? It was nice? How old was she? She needed to get a grip on things. She needed to chill. She needed a really long walk, followed by a really long shower.

Hyun-ju wasn’t an idiot. She knew that Gyeong-seok had other priorities in life. That she was lucky to have walked away from the games at all, luckier still to have walked away with friends. That it wouldn’t do to risk losing one. That she was going to Thailand. All of this she slotted in the column under ‘reasons she shouldn’t act on this, ever, at all.’

Most glaring on the list, there was no possible way Gyeong-seok had any sort of feelings for her. For one, knowing she was trans and not caring, and knowing she was trans and not caring, were not even remotely the same.

Surely.

***

Gyeong-seok felt absolutely wrung out at the end of the day. Being out in a place where everything was familiar and unchanged, except for himself, had been grinding. And being away from Na-yeon when she was in the hospital was never easy. She’d promptly started whining when he finally walked in the door, clinging to him as if he’d been gone four whole days all over again. And so he had spent the next three hours keeping her busy with games, and jokes, and trying to get her to eat more than three bites. When she finally drifted off after her bednight story, he almost dropped off right alongside. But he still had to eat something himself, and he could probably use a quick shower.

When he dropped down on his bed, freshly showered, with some instant noodles on his lap and the lights turned low so as not to wake Na-yeon, he checked his phone. His heart gave a little jolt at the sight of a new message.

Hyun-ju: I’m sorry about today.

He balanced the noodles on his lap to type back one handed.

Gyeong-seok: How so?

Hyun-ju: I don’t do well with images of myself.

He pondered that over. Put the noodles to the side, to pull the drawing out of his bag.

She looked beautiful. Soft at the edges, strong at her core. He tried to look at it as if he was her, looking in the mirror. Tried to see the flaws she was sure were there. He couldn’t see it. But just because he couldn’t see it, didn’t mean that to her, it wasn’t real.

Gyeong-seok: Then I apologize. I should have asked. I can destroy it, if you want.

He nervously put the phone on his thigh. He’d do it if she asked, but he really rather hoped she wouldn’t. He’d been taking it out to stare at, on an off throughout the day, and I doing so had come to a couple of conclusions. Firstly, that he wanted to draw her again. Secondly, that he wanted to touch that face with more than just a pencil. That he already knew what she looked like all sweaty, but that he didn’t yet know what she looked like, say, after a kiss. Or two. Three. What she would look like on top of him, holding him down, her hair and her breath brushing his face, the taste of her full in his mouth…

He hastily flipped the drawing over.

He needed to get a fucking grip. Hyun-ju was a friend. And she wasn’t interested. He was sure of it. Partly sure. About 50% sure. It could be equally possible he was just horrible at flirting.

Hyun-ju: That’s ok. It’s your drawing, not mine.

He huffed in quiet relief. Folded the drawing back up, carefuly, to tuck into his wallet.

Hyun-ju: Did Na-yeon miss you?

Change of subject. Good. Safer. He double checked to make sure his flash was off, then took a picture of his sleeping daughter. She looked so fragile, with all those tubes. But she’d been so active today, the nurses had assured him she'd had a great day, and while it was too early to tell, Gyeong-seok was going to live on hope as long as he could.

Hyun-ju: Poor girl. She looks tired.

Gyeong-seok: Don’t pity her too hard. She had me play ggongi for an hour straight.

Hyun-ju: Who’s better at it?

Gyeong-seok: Well, I’m still alive.

He hit send, cursed himself right after. Hurriedly typed on.

Gyeong-seok: She does a mean snail ggongi though.

Hyun-ju: What’s snail ggongi?

He blinked. He supposed she never must have played, as a kid. Feeling just a bit silly, but doing it anyway, he took the ggongi stones off of Na-yeon’s night stand. Seeing as snail ggongi was basically ggongi for beginners, no tossing involved, simply picking up the stones one by one in a circular motion, it wasn’t too hard to film it. He sent her the file. Picked up the noodles again for a bite, and grimaced. Cold.

Hyun-ju: I could do that.

Gyeong-seok: I believe in you.

Hyun-ju: Are those hospital sheets?

Ah. He glanced down. Busted. In which case. Might as well… He flipped the camera on his phone. Held it up. Grimaced at how tired he looked, but fuck it, she’d seen him in much worse condition. Snapped the selfie. Sent it.

Gyeong-seok: Behold. My sleeping arrangement.

Hyun-ju: That doesn’t look very comfortable.

Gyeong-seok: It’s not. But I don’t like leaving her alone.

He hesitated, then typed on.

Gyeong-seok: Truthfully, I don’t like being alone much either.

He drummed his leg, waiting for a reply. When it didn’t immediately come, he finished up his cold noodles. Went and brushed his teeth. When his phone pinged again, he almost dove back to the bed, toothbrush still in his mouth.

Hyunju has started up a group chat with Gyeong-seok, Gi-hun, Jun-hee, Dae-ho, Geum-ja, Yon-sik, Min-su.

Yon-sik:… what.

Gi-hun has left the group chat.

Min-su: I’m sorry, I think I might have been added by accident?

Hyun-ju: No you weren’t.

Dae-ho: I am going to drop SO MANY baby pictures in here

Jun-hee: Dae-hoya NO!

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju had always been strong. There hadn’t really been another option, growing up the way she had. To survive the loss of a career, of friends and family, of everything she had once believed to be enduring and true. She had weathered it all and then some, including the games. Only to now, at the end of it, perish under a different challenge entirely.

Because Gyeong-seok was surely going to be the end of her.

After an entire afternoon of agonizing, and a shower that had used up all the hot water on their floor, Hyun-ju had sat herself down to have a firm conversation. She knew all about losing friends. It hurt, and then you picked yourself back up. You kept going. But just because she knew about it, didn’t mean she wanted to go through it again. She’d walked away from the horrors of that island with so much more than she’d hoped, and she wasn’t going to risk any of it. She was going to keep healthy boundaries. She was going to behave.

It… wasn’t going well.

Mostly it wasn’t going well because Gyeong-seok wasn’t up to speed with the plan. Not only had this damned man sent her a gonggi video displaying his strong and capable artist hands. No, he just had to follow it up with a selfie in his bed. Wearing a button-up pajama. Which he hadn’t entirely buttoned up. By two buttons. Hyun-ju knew this, because she had counted. Repeatedly. And his hair had been all wet, and tousled, like maybe perhaps someone had taken a good grip, all the better to—

Nope. She was not going to go there.

She rolled out of bed, and forced herself into gear. Jun-hee was leaving the hospital today. Gi-hun and Dae-ho were picking her up, while Min-su was getting them some last minute baby things. Hyun-ju checked her phone, and groaned at the thirty-odd notifications. Maybe setting up a group chat had been a mistake. But Gyeong-seok had made a solid point, in between his bouts of being unfairly attractive. They were all lonely, in a sense. She scrolled through the chat, marveling at Dae-ho’s constraint; only about half of them were pictures of Jun-hee and the baby. She glanced at the last line.

Geum-ja: We should all meet up sometime!

She almost dropped the phone.

You can all come over. It’s a small place but we have room enough for four.

She slid down to the floor. Was distantly aware her breath was coming in short.

Unnie?

She’d been so scared. So scared. Hyun-ju dreamed about it. About Young-mi’s terrified eyes, her helpless cries, how the life drained out of her as Hyun-ju could do nothing, nothing at all, again and again, night after night. Hyun-ju would be old and grey and sleeping her last and she’d still dream about it. It’s worse while awake, to the point where she couldn’t get herself to stop gasping for breath, panic coiling tight around her chest, her throat. She couldn’t call out for help. And even if she could, there was nobody here. She was all alone.

She curled up in a tight ball of agony, and let the panic drown her.

***

“We’re home!”

Hyun-ju flinched from her spot on the floor. After the panic had thoroughly wrecked her, she hadn’t had the energy to get back up. She’d been lying there, with her knees pulled to her chest, dazed, without any sense of time.

“Hyun-juna, are you still sleeping?” Dae-ho knocked on the door and, with his usual level of social awareness, immediately barged in. “Come and say hi to… Hyun-juna!” He rushed to her side. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Panic attack,” she mumbled, pushing him away. She forced herself up in a sitting position, feeling sheepish, and foolish, and exposed. “Sorry.”

He worriedly checked her over, fetched her a glass of water. He stayed crouched down close as she gulped it, studying her. “You know… about that therapist you found me to talk about my… to talk about my things? Maybe you should go too.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think…” she stopped, startled when his hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“Hyun-juna,” he said sternly. “You told me there was no shame in traumatizing events leading to trauma. That there was no shame in accepting help. Was that a lie, then?”

“Since when are you the adult?” she grumbled. She was feeling put on the spot. And vulnerable. She didn’t too well with vulnerable. She tried to get up and he instantly helped her, supporting her until she found her footing.

“You’re not older than I am.” Dae-ho’s face scrunched up in thought. “Are you?”

“I’m 1985. I got 5 years on you.”

“Ahh,” he nodded thoughtfully. “So I should be calling you n—”

“Don’t!” she snapped.

He looked confused. “…Alright. I won’t? Come and greet the baby.”

“No thank you.”

“Yes thank you,” he insisted, hauling her towards the door. “You need to get out of this room. Cmon, you haven’t seen her yet.”

“Yes I have.”

“Tsh, that was three days ago. She grew.”

***

Group chat

Da-ho has shared a picture. It shows a tired but happy Jun-hee, putting the baby into a bassinet.

Dae-ho: The baby is home! Oh and Jun-hee too.

Geum-ja: Congratulations! Wait, are all of you living together?

Dae-ho: Us homeless rejects have been bunking together at Gi-hun’s place. It’s cool, if you don’t mind the weird wallpaper. Or the snoring. Min-su snores.

Hyun-ju: Wrong room. That’s Gi-hun.

Dae-ho has added Gi-hun to the chat.

Gyeong-seok: Welcome home Jun-hee and baby!

Gi-hun has left the chat.

Gyeong-seok: I’m assuming this means he’s also still not going to therapy.

Dae-ho: You know who else is refusing to go to therapy?

Hyun-ju: Dae-ho, may I remind you that I know where you sleep.

Dae-ho: You wouldn’t kill me in my sleep. You’re too honorable.

Dae-ho: Also, Jun-hee needs me.

Geum-ja: Hyun-juna, there is no shame in going to therapy! Yon-sik has also been going to talk about his gambling addiction.

Yon-sik: Omma! You don’t have to tell everyone!

Geum-ja: These people aren’t everyone, they’re family! Everyone, let’s meet up at our place this Friday evening, yes? I’ll make Kimchi for all of us.

Dae-ho: Sweet, I’m in. Jun-hee is taking a nap, but I’ll let her know.

Gyeong-seok: What time? I might be able to drop by. It would be nice to catch up.

Hyun-ju: I can’t. But you all have fun.

***

Gyeong-seok was stuck. More specifically, he was stuck holding Na-yeon’s hand. She was finally getting the long awaited and much needed bone marrow transplant. The good news was that it didn’t require surgery: it could simply be introduced into her bloodstream. The bad news was that Na-yeon had undergone chemotherapy the day before to make her body more receptive to the treatment, which had left her incredibly (and rightfully) cranky. She’d cried when they hooked her up to the new fluid bag, even though it required no new needle stabbing. She kept claiming it itched, kept trying to claw at the catheter. So Gyeong-seok had positioned himself on the bed with her, keeping her hand locked in his. It had helped. Eventually. She was currently partly zonked out against him, watching some funny video on his phone with glazy eyes. Every so often she’d let out a little whiny whimper, and he’d gently stroke her hand until she settled again. It looked so tiny in his. So fragile.

“Appa, who’s the pretty lady?”

He looked up from their intertwined hands to his phone. “Where?” Na-yeon wasn’t looking at the current video of cats taking funny tumbles, but at the sketch book on his lap. With his phone currently confiscated, he’d taken it to keep himself occupied, but he’d been doodling absent mindedly, without real thought. He looked down.

… Ah. Apparently not so thoughtless at all.

“That’s Hyun-ju.” He’d drawn her as he had known her in the games. Focused, with her hair tied back, bangs sticking to her forehead. Next to it, he’d drawn her again. This one more commanding, face set in concentration, bare lines hinting at a rifle in her hands. And under that, he’d drawn her again. Looking out of the page at him, as if he was standing right by her side. Smiling. “She’s a friend of appa.”

“From work?”

“No, not from work.”

“From where?”

He swallowed thickly. “Somewhere else.” He wasn’t telling her that. He was never telling her that.

Na-yeon blinked sleepily at the sketches. “She’s pretty.”

“She is,” he agreed.

“You should give her your drawing.”

“She wouldn’t like that very much.” He shouldn’t be drawing her at all. She’d made her thoughts on that very clear. He should probably rip out the page. Toss it. Instead, he penciled the date in the corner.

“Yes she will,” Na-yeon insisted, with the confidence that came natural at her age. “Everybody likes getting drawings. She can put it on her fridge.”

He chuckled and gave her a kiss. “I’ll think about it. Now.” He flipped to a new page. “What else should I draw?”

“A bunny.”

“What, again?”

“A bunny wearing a strawberry hat.”

***

Hyun-ju parked Gi-hun’s car a few blocks away from Geum-ja’s place and killed the engine. She really, really hadn’t wanted to go. But Gi-hun was also not going, and neither Dae-ho, Jun-hee or Min-su apparently had their driver’s license. Jun-hee had vehemently refused to take the baby anywhere near public transportation until her immune system was stronger. As such, Hyun-ju had found herself the designated driver.

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel while Dae-ho helped Jun-hee out of the passenger seat, Min-su unbuckling the baby carrier in the back. “If you text me when you get tired I can come pick you up,” she tried, only to be met with instant protest.

“Why would you drive all the way back now? You’re already here.” Dae-ho ducked his head back into the car. “I know it’s weird to see all of us together again, but it’ll be fun.”

“Hardly all of us,” she muttered, looking away. Her eyes landed on the rear-view mirror. In the back seat, Min-su had frozen. He was staring off into nothing, face twisted in pain.

He didn’t talk much, Min-su. Didn’t say much of anything aside from shy little sorrys, and thank yous, and hellos, and sorrys. He said sorry a lot. She’d tried to get him talking a few times, about the games. He always clamped up. Said thank you, no thank you, and sorry, and scampered off. But she heard him, at night. When he screamed in his sleep. Granted, most of them did. But he did it every night.

She took a steadying breath and nodded at Dae-ho. “Alright, I’ll come. You take the baby. I’ll take Min-su.”

Min-su jolted and all but scrambled out of the way when Dae-ho carefully nudged him. He jolted again when Hyun-ju hooked her arm in his.

“Hungry?”

Min-su looked up at her wide eyed, and shook his head no.

“Too bad.” She started walking, steering him along. “You’re going to go inside and eat what Geum-ja serves you.”

“Yes nuna,” he meekly said.

She stumbled a bit. Righted herself. Led the young ones to the correct address. When Yon-sik opened the door, she even managed not to cry.

***

Gyeong-seok looked up from the cutting board when the group came in. He’d wedged himself in Geum-ja’s kitchen instantly after arriving, cheerfully ignoring her claims that she didn’t need any help. He’d grown up with a mother much like her, and knew it was all for show. She had eventually stopped trying, tittering around him in mock protest. He grinned and waved at the new arrivals in greeting, his grin broadening when he spotted Hyun-ju. He hadn’t been sure she’d come.

“Ahhhh you all made it!” Geum-ja ran over to hug them all one by one, even Min-su, who looked incredibly startled at this. “Welcome, welcome! Give me the baby! Yon-sikya! Offer our guests something to drink!”

It wasn’t a big place by far, her apartment, but they’d been in tighter spots.

“Gyeong-seokya, get out of there and go say hi, go on,” Geum-ja waved him out of the kitchen. “I can finish up from here.”

“You are literally holding a baby,” he laughed.

“Ahh, this little angel…” Geum-ja looked from the baby to her cooking, momentarily torn, before handing her over to Gyeong-seok. “Go on, go on.”

He tucked her securely into his arms and went to say hello. “Did anybody lose a kid?” Jun-hee held out her hands in a weary way that made his senses tingle. He kept hold of the baby. “You alright there, Jun-heeya?”

“I’m ok,” she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

He gave her a look. “It’s ok if you’re not, you know.”

She hesitated. “I’m just… I’m really tired,” she said quietly, as if this was the worst thing you could possibly confess to as a parent to a newborn.

“It’s a lot,” he nodded. “You’re trying to learn how to parent, you’re sleep deprived, your body is still recovering… You’re not a bad mom for handing her over once in a while, you know. Taking care of a kid means you make sure her needs are met. Doesn’t mean you have to be the one always meeting them. The very best thing you can do for her is to make sure her mother recovers completely as well, yes?”

She nodded, somewhat taken back.

“You’re doing great,” he restated, shooting her a supportive smile. Gyeong-seok had only been here twenty minutes, but Geum-ja had a tendency to prattle. She’d told him how brave Jun-hee was for doing it all alone, seeing as there was no father, and she didn’t even have parents to help, being an orphan. Gyeong-seok had an inkling Jun-hee was probably being too hard on herself. He also had more than an inkling you should never tell Geum-ja any secrets.

“You just try and relax for a while,” he went on. “I’m sure there’s plenty of volunteers around to… oh.” Min-su had wordlessly reached out. “See?” Gyeong-seok handed him the baby. Min-su carefully took her, and went to sit on a chair, rocking her softly.

Hands free, Gyeong-seok turned to greet the rest of them. Dae-ho, who was closest, promptly hugged him. Caught a little of guard, Gyeong-seok patted him on the back with a chuckle. There was a straightforwardness to Dae-ho that flew in the face of conventional politeness, but Gyeong-seok was quickly learning he didn’t really mind. In a world where people lured desperate folks into death games to fight for their amusement, the formality of age suddenly seemed such a silly thing. Especially between people who had seen each other at their worst.

“Ay, Dae-hoya, that’s no way to behave towards your elders,” Geum-ja tisked, carrying in the food.

“It’s perfectly alright,” Gyeong-seok said, patting the man on the shoulder as they separated. They had to sidestep each other for him to get to Hyun-ju. He smiled at her, then scanned her face. Offered her a hug, which she accepted after a flicker of hesitation.

“You ok?” he murmured into her hair. “You look as tired as Jun-hee.”

She tensed. “Bit of a bad day.”

He tightened the hug in what he hoped was wordless comfort. Resisted the urge to just keep her there, in his arms, safe from the world, and alright, yes, holding her in a situation where he wasn’t crying his heart out was an incredible improvement. She smelled nice.

When they separated, Dae-ho was giving him a scrutinizing look. “How old are you?”

“1981. But please, we’re all friends here.”

Dae-ho turned to Hyun-ju. “Aeh, I knew you couldn’t be the oldest.” He pointed at Gyeong-seok with a sly grin. “You should call him oppa.”

Hyun-ju made an odd sound, and hurriedly reached for the drink that Yong-sik was offering her.

“I’d allow it,” Gyeong-seok said, with the wherewithal of a man who hadn’t flirted in over seven years and definitely should not have let that slip out so easily. But then Hyun-ju choked on her drink, fully spluttering, and part of him couldn’t help but feel incredibly vindicated. He offered her a napkin and a pleased grin. The things I would let you call me, he thought.

She took the napkin, fully avoiding his eyes.

“Everyone sit down, sit down!” Geum-ja flailed at them until they found a spot at the table.

Admittedly, it was a bit cramped. The table wasn’t really built to hold seven people and a baby. Some of the chairs had been pulled from another room. Yon-sik was sitting in what was clearly his desk chair. Unless Gyeong-seok kept his legs exactly in the middle of his chair, he’d press up against the people next to him. Which, to his left, just happened to be Hyun-ju. Since he didn’t want her to choke on her food, he made sure not to brush up against her.

The food, homecooked, was amazing. The company was even better. Gyeong-seok had almost forgotten what a full room of friends could feel like. How long it had been since he last held a conversation that involved anything other than work, or medical terms. Or gonggi stones and bunnies. He loved Na-yeon, he really did, he’d go to the underworld for her and back (and had). But the last couple of years had been… lonely.

It was while they were laughing at one of Yon-sik’s jokes, that it was suddenly Gyeong-seok’s turn to almost choke on his drink. Next to him, Hyun-ju was laughing along freely, in a deep and melodious way that lit up the room. Her leg had brushed up against his. And stayed.

He very carefully did not move.

***

Hyun-ju was standing on the tiny balcony of Geum-ja’s flat, looking out over the city by night. Behind her, kitchen sounds and laughter were spilling out of the place, still filled to the brim even without her. They sounded happy. Peaceful. She allowed herself to feel good about that.

She looked back when the door slid open. Gyeong-seok stepped out on the balcony, closing the door behind him. “Geum-ja chased me out of the kitchen,” he sheepishly said. “She’s making Dae-ho and Yon-sik do the dishes.”

“She chased me out as well,” Hyun-ju said, repositioning herself somewhat nervously as he joined her, resting his arms on the railing.

“As well she should, you’ve already done more than enough.” He gave her a smile, before looking out over the city as well.

He was close, close enough to touch if she wanted. Which, she did, but she wasn’t going to. Distance, she’d vowed to herself. “You’re the one who helped with the food,” she said.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” He turned his head towards her. “Thank you.”

She carefully kept looking straight. “For what?”

“For getting us out. Looking after us.” His voice was so soft, so sincere. “I don’t think we say it enough.”

Hyun-ju didn’t do too well with softness. Not when it came from other people. Not directed at her. She desperately grasped for anything to lighten the mood. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, oppa.”

Gyeong-seok stilled beside her.

She nervously twisted her fingers. She’d meant it as a joke. Surely he could tell she’d meant it as a joke. So what if part of her didn’t want her to mean it as a joke? It was still a joke. And even if it wasn’t, he was technically older than her, and oppa didn’t always have to mean anything other than that. Right?

He still hadn’t said anything.

She turned her head. When their eyes met she was almost knocked back by the intensity of his gaze. There was something open in there, and raw, and inviting, to the point that she almost swayed closer, almost put her hand on his arm, almost, almost…

She forced herself to freeze. Because surely she was reading this all wrong. Surely. Hyun-ju had never kissed a man before. She had tried to, exactly once, with disastrous results. She couldn’t afford disastrous here. Not with him.

He didn’t move either. Simply looked at her, with the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. She knew this, because she was apparently staring at his mouth. She flicked her eyes hastily back up. The smile followed along, and bloomed in his eyes.

“Oppa, is it? So what should I call you then?”

She unstuck her tongue. “…Dongsaeng?”

He pulled a face. “What are you, twelve, like Min-su?”

“…He’s from 1994.”

“Like I said,” he frowned. “You’re not a child. You’re a woman.”

She wrung her hands nervously as he contemplatively studied her face. Wondered if he even realized he had inched even closer. Found herself glancing at his lips again.

“How about.. Gonjunim?” He whispered.

She barked out a sudden and nervous laugh, jolting half a step back. “Don’t be absurd.”

He wasn’t laughing. If anything, he looked slightly affronted. “It’s not absurd.”

She chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Princess. Sure.” It was too hot out here. She needed a cool breeze. A cool drink. She needed him to stop looking at her like he meant what he was saying.

“It suits you," he insisted.

"Hardly."

"I’ll have you know Na-yeon called you a pretty lady today,” he countered.

“Easily said without proof to the contrary,” she countered right back.

“Ah…” he guiltily looked down. “Actually…I may have accidentally drawn you again.”

She stared at him. “How do you accidentally draw someone?”

“My, eh… my mind was wandering.” He looked up with such honesty it was almost painful. “I’m sorry. If you want me to stop. I’ll stop.”

“I didn’t say that,” she muttered, caught off guard.

Something settled in his eyes. “No?”

He slowly inched forward. Put a warm hand over hers, as if to anchor her in place. He was close. So close. “If you want me to stop,” he whispered. “I’ll stop.” So close she could feel the breath of it on her lips.

Hyun-ju had never kissed a man. And if she kept overthinking things, she probably never would.

She leaned in. He made up the difference.

It was… soft. Careful.

It wasn’t like any kiss she ever had before. Those had always felt forced, like she was pushing herself to try until something clicked. As if kissing was something you had to learn, like riding a bicycle, and it was always going to feel weird until you finally found your balance. Except she never had.

Kissing Gyeong-seok felt… normal. It felt nice. Warm.

And then he slightly tilted his head, flicked his tongue against her lips, and the warmth of it flooded her, shook her to her core. It was easy then, to slide a hand to his lower back, to place the other in his neck. So easy to open up for him, to allow him to explore her mouth, to explore his in return. A part of her was weeping with it, with how easy it was, with how wrong she’d been doing things for so much of her life.

She kissed him just like that. Like she had things to make up for. Like she had found her balance, and she wasn’t about to let go. Going by his little huffs in between one kiss and the next, it wasn’t too bad of a strategy.

When they finally pulled apart, she found she’d clung herself to him. Found she didn’t rightly mind.

He was smiling softly, dazedly, looking just a little bit wrecked. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she whispered back.

“Is this a good time to ask you out for coffee?”

She’d never been asked out for coffee. People like her didn’t get asked out. Then again, people like her also didn’t get kissed on the balcony of their friends like she was something to be desired. Hells, people like her rarely walked away with any friends at all.

It caught her off this newly found balance. What if things went badly and she lost him as a friend?

“Hyun-juna,” he whispered. Caught her gaze, and held it. “Gonjunim.”

A lifetime of better judgment screaming at her across the years, had nothing on those eyes. “Coffee,” she breathlessly agreed.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju stared at her reflection in her hotel bathroom mirror.

Gyeong-seok had kissed her.

She hadn’t been completely sure it had been anything but a hopeful dream, in those first few moments after waking. But the reality of it had settled in, and then it had been further confirmed by his first morning message, coming in while she was brushing her teeth.

He had kissed her. Her. And then he’d asked her out for coffee. Which was astounding, and wild, and just a little bit terrifying, because she hadn’t been out on a date since coming out.

Hyun-ju was used to people staring at her. She was good at ignoring it. Keeping her chin high. But being out on an obvious date? With an obvious man? That could get all sorts of attention. How would he feel about that? What would he do? He had enough on his plate—

She splashed some water into her face, gripped the sink, and gave herself a hard stare. “Alright Hyun-ju. Here’s the deal. We are not going to do this. Gyeong-seok is an adult, who can make adult decisions. He asked you out, and you know him well enough to know that he meant it.” She felt her cheeks heat a little at the thought. “So you are not going to self-sabotage.” She studied her reflection. Her jawline. Her throat.

But she was going to have to have a talk to him about… expectations. She picked up her phone. Reread his message.

Gyeong-seok: I had an amazing time last night, and would love the honor of taking you out for coffee.

A smile tugged at her lips. Honestly, who talked like that? He sounded like he learned how to romance out of K-dramas.

She typed out a message, retyped it, retyped it again, then hit sent before she lost her nerve. Cho Hyun-ju, ex special forces, trans and out, survivor of squid game, getting all flustered over a boy. Well, a man. A very handsome man. Who had kissed her.

Hyun-ju: Coffee sounds great. I do feel it’s only fair to warn you, that being seen with an openly trans person isn’t always without backlash. Especially on a date.

His answer didn’t take long.

Gyeong-seok: I don’t care.

Hyun-ju stared at the message with a sinking feeling. Sure, he didn’t care now. But would he still not care if people kept sneering at them? If they couldn’t even hold hands for fear of getting into a fight?

Gyeong-seok: But if it makes you more comfortable, we can always go somewhere more private? Like the hospital cafeteria. Mind you, they don’t have actual coffee there. Only abominations.

Hyun-ju snorted.

Hyun-ju: We have a fairly good coffee machine over here?

She jumped a little as her phone rang. She picked it up.

“A bit presumptuous to ask me back to your place already, no?”

She flushed. At the implication, at the teasing smile in his voice. “This is probably not the best time to tell you Gi-hun’s place of residence is a former love hotel, then.”

“What?” he laughed. “Oh no. Wait. And Jun-hee is staying there? With the baby?”

“I know,” she groaned, flopping down on the bed. “I’m working on it.”

“Hey.” His voice softened. “That wasn’t a commentary on you.”

“I know, I just…” She stared up at the pink ceiling. Everything was pink in here. “I don’t feel like I’m doing enough.”

“Sounds like you could use a break. With coffee,” he specified.

She laughed softly. “Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do? But where do we go?”

“I don’t care,” he said earnestly. “As long as it’s with you.”

She felt her cheeks flush. Cho Hyun-ju, blushing over a man. What even was her life right now. “Alright. How about this?”

***

Hyun-ju stuck her head into Gi-hun’s room. “I’m going out.”

Gi-hun looked up from his paperwork with a nod, then did a double take. “You're going out like that?”

Hyun-ju self-consciously fiddled with her bracelet. She’d agonized over what to wear for way too long, had settled on a simple summer dress, and was one solid hesitation away from going back on her choice. “What?”

“You dressed up. What’s the occasion?”

“Coffee, with… just coffee,” she said lamely.

“Huh,” he said, staring. “Good for you.”

She nervously drummed her fingers on the doorframe. “Did you need me to finish up anything urgent? Because if you need help—"

“Hyun-ju-shi, walk away and go get that coffee.”

“Right, yes, of course.”

***

Gyeong-seok went down to the hospital’s cafeteria way too early, and thus spent the next half hour shifting in his seat, changing his mind about which table to sit at twice, and nervously bouncing his leg. It had been Hyun-ju’s suggestion to meet up here after work. She was bringing them coffee from her favorite place, and he suddenly felt like a heel for going along with it. Not because they were bringing in outside drinks; while it was technically not allowed, not even the employees who made the coffee here dared to drink it, so the hospital turned a continuous blind eye. But it wasn’t really a best setting for a first date, was it? Meeting up in a hospital cafeteria so he wouldn’t have to go too far from his sick daughter, and also he wasn’t even providing the drinks. Pathetic.

When they went on their second date, he was going to have to step it up. That is, supposing she wanted to even go on a second date. Supposing he didn’t mess things up. He checked the time for the third time in the last minute.

And then Hyun-ju walked through the door, and all of his stress seemed to melt away. She looked amazing. That is, he always felt she looked amazing, but he’d never seen her in a dress before. He could see her strong calves. The muscles of her bare arms. He did his very polite best not to stare.

“Hi.” She put the coffees down on the table.

“Hi,” he smiled, springing up to pull out her chair.

She stared at it in a moment of confusion, before hesitantly sitting down.

He sat down opposite, waited for her to claim one of the coffees, then took the other. “Thank you for bringing these.”

“Thank you for…” she chuckled. “I’m sorry. This is awkward. I haven’t done this since…” she faltered. He waited politely for her to go on. “Before,” she finished lamely.

It took Gyeong-seok a while for it to click. Oh. That. “Ah… Don’t worry about it. Me neither. I mean, not that I’m… err…” he winced. Two sentences in, and he was already making this awkward. Great.

Hyun-ju, bless her, simply smiled at him, as if his stuttering was somehow endearing. “Not since Na-yeon’s mother?”

He tried to keep his face neutral. But she’d sort of surprised him, and he knew by the way confusion flashed across her face that he had failed. He didn’t like talking about it. Didn’t want to talk about it now. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because those were bad memories, and they had plenty of those already. He wanted good memories with Hyun-ju. She deserved that. They both did.

His silence had been going on for too long. Hyun-ju took a too large sip of her coffee, and chuckled nervously. “So… what do people usually talk about on these?”

What did people talk about on first dates? He’d had his fair share of those, but looking back on them, all those talks now seemed to shallow. “Work? Hobbies? Family?” She pulled a face, and he laughed suddenly. Reached out a hand over the table, palm up. After a hesitation, she put hers in his.

She was warm. Solid. When she looked up, her shy smile warmed him even more.

Emboldened, he squeezed her hand. “I think… that this is usually the part where we try and get to know each other. but I feel like we sort of speed ran that already when we were… ah… wearing matching outfits.” He was suddenly aware he’d absent mindedly started stroking his thumb over her hand, and made himself stop. “People date to see if they’re compatible, I guess. To learn about each other’s hopes, and fears.” Suddenly shy, he looked down at their hands. “Decide if we can trust each other.”

“With my life,” she softly said.

He snapped his gaze to hers. Damn those eyes. If it wasn’t for the table, and their coffees, and about a dozen people being in the same room, those eyes might have made him do something fairly foolish. Like kissing her senseless, or maybe ask her what she might be planning to do for the rest of her life— He stomped on the thought before it could go somewhere dangerous. Like out into the world, where he couldn't take it back. Where it could scare her off.

She cleared her throat. “We can skip ahead then, I guess.” Was it his imagination, or did she sound just a little bit breathless? “Tell me something I don’t know.”

It was… weird. To talk about things not related to the games. He talked about how he had always wanted to be an artist, growing up. That he was one of those kids that was always doodling on his school things, getting into trouble. That he’d always wanted children but had severely underestimated all of it even before things had gone horrible sideways. He sidestepped that last bit fairly quickly. He didn’t want to get too deep into the heavy stuff today.

She told him about her career. About bits and pieces of her life, hesitantly, as if she was surgically selecting those parts that wouldn’t scare him. He tried to ask questions without prying, sometimes simply holding her hand and waiting for her to go back to sentences she was leaving trailed off. And then suddenly she was talking fast, as if something had been shaken loose. About how she had always known she wasn’t exactly right. But that she had realized that she could be. That she deserved to be.

He was hit with the sudden reality of how brave she was. Which, he’d already known that. He’d known it from the moment she had dashed out of guaranteed safety to help Gi-hun drag that unfortunate player over the line. And the way she had led them all into battle… he’d had dreams about her in those moments, and only some of them had been nightmares.

He wished he could hug her. But they were still technically in public, so he made do with gently squeezing her hand.

Their coffees were long gone by the time Gyeong-seok noticed the time. “Ah, whoops. This was really fun, and I really don’t want to ditch you and run, but if I don’t get back up now, I’ll miss Na-yeon’s bedtime.”

“Of course. I understand.” She smiled at him. “Hospital beds can get so boring, she must miss you when you’re away.”

“Do you want to meet her?” he blurted.

She stared.

“Ah..” he faltered. Perhaps this was too much. Too fast. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know kids aren’t for everyone. But I told Na-yeon I was meeting a friend, and she got a bit jealous. She doesn’t get a lot of visitors. You don’t have to,” he restated, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal when it was, in fact, a very big deal.

For a while she simply kept staring, mouth slightly agape, as if he had asked her to return to the island with her and have another go at the games. “…Sure.”

He nervously took the two empty coffees. “If you don’t want to…”

“No!” She hastily got up. “I want to.”

***

“Appa, it’s the pretty lady!”

Hyun-ju hovered at the door while Gyeong-seok walked over to the hospital bed and hugged his daughter.

“It is, sweetie. Her name is Hyun-ju. Can you say hi?”

“Hi,” Na-yeon grinned at Hyun-ju. “Appa has been drawing you in his sketch book.”

“Ah, don’t tell on me like that!”

“It’s right over there,” Na-yeon pointed, completely unbothered by her appa’s clear unease. “I told him to give it to you so you can put it on your fridge.”

“Na-yeona!”

Flustered Gyeong-seok, Hyun-ju decided, was adorable. She slowly stepped further into the room.

“Do you want to play gonggi?” Na-yeon asked her.

“I…” she smiled apologetically. ”I don’t know how to play.”

“That’s ok! I can teach you!” Na-yeon swiftly cleared her little table, then made little grabby hand motions to the stones on her nightstand.

“And how do we ask for that, Na-yeona?” Gyeong-seok said sternly.

She pulled an impatient face. “Please can I have the stones appa.”

“Yes you may, sweetheart, thank you for asking.” He put the stones on the table for her. “Where is Hyun-juna going to sit?”

“On the bed!”

Hyun-ju carefully sat down on the bed. Not too close, but close enough so she’d be able to pick up stones from the table.

Na-yeon very seriously showed her how to play snail gonggi; you had to throw the stones down, but not too hard or they’ll go everywhere and then appa has to go and pick them up, and then you pick them up one by one like this, like a snail, see?

“Now you go! Na-yeon held out the stones to her in her little hand.

Hyun-ju hesitated. Meeting someone’s kid was one thing. Touching someone’s kid was a different thing entirely.

She’d stopped a child from running into traffic once. She’d done it without thinking, and the kid would definitely have had at least a concussion without her quick reflexes. But his parents had flipped out on her, calling her every vile name under the sun they could think of, most of which pertaining to children, to the point where she was still shaking by the time she had made it home.

She was jolted out of her own head when Gyeong-seok took the stones instead.

“I think Hyun-ju is scared the stones are going to bite.” While Na-yeon giggled, he handed the stones over to Hyun-ju, leaning in slightly. “I know it looks bad, but she’s not going to break,” he whispered.

Hyun-ju’s breath hitched. Worried. He thought she was worried. She really needed to get out of her own head.

She grasped the stones with a mock frown. “Ok. Now what do I do?”

“Throw them,” Na-yeon said.

“Throw them. Right.” She lightly threw all five stones up, letting them fall on the bed.

“Nooo,” Na-yeon giggled. “On the table!”

“That does make more sense, yes,” Hyun-ju said seriously, eliciting more giggles. She cast the stones. “Like this?”

Na-yeon critically looked at their position. “Mmm… We can work with that.”

Hyun-ju swallowed a laugh. She paid close attention while Na-yeon demonstrated how to pick up the stones, after which she meticulously reset them for Hyun-ju to try. Hyun-ju pretended to get confused halfway, but with Na-yeon cheering her on, she got there in the end.

“You did it!” Na-yeon shouted happily.

“I did it!” Hyun-ju grinned, offering her a high five. Na-yeon’s hand felt tiny against hers.

“Again!”

When her appa called it time for bed, Na-yeon started crying, and only stopped when Hyun-ju promised she’d come visit again soon. She hadn’t meant to say it. But when she glanced at Gyeong-seok, ready to apologize for the presumption, he’d had that look on his face again, the one that felt like she was staring right into the sun. And she’d quite forgotten what she was going to say.

***

Gyeong-seok stumbled through their bedtime routine slightly dazed and distracted. He forgot to put toothpaste on Na-yeon’s toothbrush, then kept reading her the same page twice. When he finally tucked her in she drifted off fast, her small body perpetually tired from an ongoing battle. He laid down on his own bed in the dimmed room and stared at the ceiling.

Gyeong-seok was in love. He was so completely, utterly, head over heels in love.

It was a problem. Because Hyun-ju was absolutely out of his league. He had no idea why she was sticking around. It must be the near-death experience or something. Must be.

He’d dated before. Wooed women before. Had he ever been this nervous about any of them? He couldn’t remember.

And she liked Na-yeon. She liked Na-yeon. Which was everything, because Na-yeon was everything to him.

He was going to fuck this up. He was going to fuck this up so bad.

His phone buzzed. He checked it.

Hyun-ju: Could you ask Na-yeon for me when she could perhaps spare her appa for dinner?

Or maybe, just maybe, he was allowed some damn happiness.

***

Hyun-ju hadn’t gone back to the Pink Hotel. She’d gone back to her old apartment instead. She’d only been here once, after, to pick up some things and clear her mailbox, water her one surviving houseplant. But if she was going to go on a second date, and maybe possibly even a third, then she was going to need access to her wardrobe.

It had been surprisingly easy, to talk to Gyeong-seok, once she’d managed to get going. It was something to do with his eyes. Or possibly the way he didn’t jump in to fill every silence with his own words, giving her thoughts room to come out of hiding. She’d considered, briefly, to tell him about Thailand. But it wasn’t important. That was a longterm goal and Gyeong-seok was… handsome, and warm, and something she very much wanted right now. But he was also something new, and she hadn’t gotten where she was in life by jumping without thinking. For all they knew this thing between them was a latent response to having escaped death, and it would eventually fizzle out. Hyun-ju was nothing but practical.

She fished a suitcase out of storage and spent the next hour or so carefully selecting some outfits, and alright, yes, daydreaming a little on how Gyeong-seok would maybe look at her in them. The man was obviously interested, if he kissed her after having seen her in a tracksuit stained with dust and blood. From a low point like that, things could only really go up.

She took a detour to the bathroom to grab some more make up, added enough shoes to make her suitcase groan in protest when she closed it, then doubled back to save the lonely houseplant.

When she was leaving her apartment, she ran into her neighbor, who was just leaving as well, carrying a box. They had never been on a pleasant basis. But at least she had only ever glared at Hyun-ju in a non-verbal disapproving way. Plus, she’d never complained about her to the landlord. Hyun-ju had learned to appreciate the crumbs.

The neighbor glanced at her suitcase, and surprised Hyun-ju by breaking the silence. “Going on a trip again already?”

“Not exactly.” She eyed the box. “Moving out?”

“Moving in with my boyfriend, actually.”

“Congratulations,” Hyun-ju said.

That seemed to deplete the pleasantries. With a curt nod, the woman walked off.

Hyun-ju lingered a while, to avoid having to awkwardly share an elevator down.

***

Hyun-ju jolted awake and was halfway out of her bed before she fully grasped the situation. She was in her room at the Pink Hotel. It was still dark. Someone was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Jun-hee whisper-wailed at Hyun-ju when she poked her head out into the hallway. She looked like an absolute zombie. In her arms the baby was crying in that low, monotonous way that threatened they could keep this up until the end of days. “She only stops as long as I keep moving, but I’ve been walking for hours, and I am so, so tired. I’m afraid I’m going to trip and fall and hurt her and I’m a terrible mom—”

Hyun-ju rushed to take over the baby, hesitated at the last second, then took the baby anyway as Jun-hee all but thrust her in her arms. Hyun-ju quickly started walking. The baby instantly quieted down.

Jun-hee sagged against the wall in desperate relief, sliding down until she was on the floor.

“Where’s Dae-ho?” Hyun-ju whispered, walking to and fro to keep close to Jun-hee.

“He’s asleep. And I’m not waking him up. He had a nightmare last night. A bad one. He needs his sleep.”

“Well, I don’t want to be rude, darling, but so do you. You don’t look too good.”

Jun-hee looked about two breaths away from breaking down. “I know.”

“I’ll walk around with her, it’s no problem. Really. Go lie down for a few hours.”

Jun-hee looked both tempted and torn. “If you’re sure…”

Hyun-ju deployed her sergeant voice. “Jun-heeya. Bed. Now.”

Jun-hee jumped upright, or at least tried to. She managed it on the third try with Hyun-ju’s help. Hyun-ju was fairly sure the poor kid was asleep before she hit the bed.

She walked the length of the hallway. Turned at the end. Walked back.

Turn. Walk. Turn. Repeat.

In the silence of the night, holding something so deeply precious, passing door after door of people that were closer to her than friends, she felt a deep affection welling up, almost spilling over into tears.

Hyun-ju walked the baby. She didn’t wake any of them.

It was only when Min-su stuck his head out of his door a solid hour before dawn to see who was up, that she allowed him to wordlessly take over.

She slept until noon. She didn’t dream.

Chapter Text

It was close to eleven when Hyun-ju stuck a very frumpy face into Gi-hun’s room. “You could have woken me up, you know.”

Gi-hun looked up from his usual pile of work. To her surprise, Min-su was there too. He was sitting next to Gi-hun with his usual look of constant apology for daring to take up space. He instantly got up when Hyun-ju stepped into the room, but she waved him back down, dragging up another chair.

“You were up half the night with the baby.” Gi-hun handed over a stack of papers to Min-su to staple together. “That’s work too.”

Well, yes, that was true. But not all men of Gi-hun’s age bracket usually agreed with that. It made her wonder. She’d seen Gi-hun hold the baby before, but it only now registered that he’d held her with the same ease as Dae-ho, who was a solid fifteen years younger and a brother to four sisters, and Gyeong-seok, who’d had a baby of his own. Was Gi-hun a parent?

Not for the first time, Hyun-ju was reminded she knew almost nothing about him. About the man he’d been before the games. He never talked about it. Granted, neither did she, but her file was in the binder. Gi-hun knew all about all of them.

“How was the coffee?”

She blinked. “Err. It was fine?”

“That’s good,” he nodded. Thankfully, that seemed to be the end of that line of questioning.

She looked at her list. Not much left to do, it turned out. Gi-hun had been making closing files on the survivors. They’d keep them, just in case any of them had to be re-opened again, or if Jun-ho needed any information pertaining to the ongoing cases. As for Hyun-ju’s active list, it was down to under ten. And that included the current Pink Hotel residents, which were down to six, including baby. Including Gi-hun.

She glanced at him across the table. “So what’s your plan when this is all over?”

Min-su looked up nervously, that is to say, more nervous than usual, and made as to stand up.

“Stay, Min-suya,” Gi-hun grunted. The boy instantly sat back down. “The plan is to get you all back on your feet.”

“I know that. But what about your feet?”

“That’s not important.”

“I disagree.”

At the edge of their polite tension, Min-su was both trying to make himself smaller than he already was, as well as eying the door, weighing his options of escape. Gi-hun handed him another stack of papers, and the boy meekly went back to work.

Hyun-ju shifted her attention to him. “Min-suya.” The boy almost dropped his papers. “Would you mind helping Gi-hun for the rest of the day, or did you have any other plans?”

He nodded wordlessly.

“Yes, you can stay?” She verified patiently. Made a mental note to check if he was actually going to his therapy sessions.

“Yes nuna,” he mumbled.

“Thank you, I appreciate it. That frees me up to go look at an apartment for Jun-hee.”

“Jun-heeya is moving out?” Min-su asked.

They both looked up surprised at him speaking more than two words out of his own volitation.

“The plan is we all move out eventually.” Hyun-ju didn’t miss the way Min-su looked a little stricken at that. The boy had been to multiple job interviews by now, but nothing had stuck. And he didn’t rightly talk a lot, but he tended to not go very far either.

She looked from Min-su to Gi-hun, mentally underlining them both on her list. “I’ll get going then. Let me know if I need to pick anything up while I’m out.”

***

Gyeong-seok was having a shitty day.

Today was another chemo day for Na-yeon. He had told her beforehand he couldn’t stay with her this time, he had to go into work, but she’d still started bawling once she realized he actually meant it. He ended up having to leave her like that, and by the time he got into work, a solid fifteen minutes late, her cries were still ringing in his ears.

And tomorrow, tomorrow she’d get another bone marrow transplant, and he wouldn’t be around for that either. Couldn’t afford to miss the hours. He couldn’t blame the hospital for not scheduling it on a weekend; bone marrow extraction was complicated, and the shelf life of the resulting fluids weren’t to be trifled with. He knew all of that, but Na-yeon was five. All she knew, was that she was in pain, and her appa wasn’t there.

He took out his phone and stared at his messages. Aside from hospital notifications and Hyun-ju, there was only the group chat in there. He missed having a network of friends. They’d all melted away, one after the other, as his duties as a single parent to a sick child had eaten away at his time. And these new people, amazing as they were, they had their own troubles. And they didn’t even know he had a daughter. Only Hyun-ju did, and she already did so much. What kind of a request would that even be? Please could you sit with my very sick daughter while I go into work to draw strangers.

He stared at her name for a while longer, feeling miserable. Realized he never replied to her earlier message.

Gyeong-seok: Me and Na-yeon had a great time as well. Dinner sounds lovely. Can I let you know something in a couple of days? Na-yeon has procedures this week, and I won’t know how she comes out of it until they’re done.

He put his phone down. Tried to focus on work. Managed to draw in some customers, somehow, and even managed to get them to leave happy. As soon as they had walked away, he checked his phone.

Hyun-ju: Do you want to talk about it?

… He did. He really really did. But he also didn’t want to scare her away. What kind of a catch was he turning out to be, a failed artist with a sick daughter that took up all his time? And yet… She’d seen him at his worst. The very first time he had found himself in her arms, he’d been having a massive breakdown, tears and all. She wasn’t going to run out on him over something like this. He had to remember that. That she wasn’t like… she wasn’t like that.

Gyeong-seok: She’s having chemo today, bone marrow transplant tomorrow. Round two. She hated the last one, so now that she knows what to expect she’s hating it even more.

Hyun-ju: Are you at work today?

A wave of shame welled over him. Yes. He was at work. His daughter was suffering in a hospital bed and he had fully walked away to go into work. Yes. His hands were shaking. They almost fumbled the phone when it rang.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he choked out. Fuck. He sounded bad. He shouldn’t have picked up.

“Work won’t give you the time off?”

“I still have paid leave, but I need to save it up for if… when I can take her home.”

She hummed in understanding. “Can you take unpaid time?”

He scoffed. “Not if I want to keep the apartment.” Realization hit him just a smidge too late.

“You know we can help with that,” she said.

“Shit, no, Hyun-juna, that’s not what I…”

“Let me talk to Gi-hun and see what we can do.”

He couldn’t ask that. They already had done so much. They were paying for Na-yeon’s entire treatment. She was his daughter. His responsibility. Wasn’t he supposed to do some of it, any of it, on his own?

“Gyeong-seokya.” He sucked in a breath. That was her sergeant voice. “Talk to me.”

He pinched his eyes shut. “It feels like I’m taking advantage.”

The line went quiet for a beat. “The only ones taking advantage are the pigs that used their excessive wealth to build a death facility on an island, release us in there as lab rats, and watch us kill each other for their amusement.”

He choked out a bitter laugh.

“Am I right?”

“I suppose,” he said.

“I need you to say it.” She was still using her sergeant voice. It was making it difficult for him to keep wallowing.

“The only ones taking advantage are the capitalistic pigs,” he monotoned.

“Exactly. Now. Are you currently going to therapy?”

“Are you?”

“… Alright, that’s fair.” She sighed. “How about this. I’ll go, if you go.”

He sighed and gripped his head, dislodging his floppy hat. “Sounds like a really shitty second date.”

“Let’s worry about that date later.”

Great. Just great. He was a bad dad, and a bad potential boyfriend. He shouldn’t have brought it up. Shouldn’t have picked up her call. He mumbled a halfhearted goodbye, and ended the call.

He was on his lunch break when his boss called him into her office.

Gyeong-seok started talking as soon as he was through the door. “I am so sorry I was late this monring, it won’t happen again, I can make it up by skipping my afternoon break—”

She held up her hand. “That’s not what I called you in for. Please sit down.” He nervously sat. “We were contacted by a third party who want to hire your services for the rest of the week.”

Gyeong-seok blinked. “… You were?”

“Apparently, they visited the park before as guests, and were very pleased with your portrait work. They have a VIP event that runs the rest of the week, and they are short one person. If you don’t mind the change of venue, we’ve agreed to sublet you for the period. I told them that it was, of course, up to you. Here’s their contact information.”

Gyeong-seok took the paper in utter confusion. He then read the name at the bottom, and very carefully tried to keep his face frozen. “Well… if you’re sure you can miss me?”

“Full disclosure, they are fully compensating us for you. You must have really impressed them.”

“Yes,” he managed. “Must have. Could I… could I give them a call? I’d need to know what they expect exactly, before committing.”

He walked out of the building, ducked around the corner into the artist alley, and dialed the number at the bottom.

It rang exactly once. “This is Seong Gi-hun.”

Gyeong-seok huffed out a sigh. “Did Hyun-ju put you up to this?”

“Did it work?”

Gyeong-seok awkwardly waved at a passing colleague. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I can and I will.”

“Surely there’s better things to use this on…”

“Gyeong-seok-shi.” Gi-hun said, with barely contained anger. “Money is nothing but a lie pinned to paper. Now. You are a parent.” The anger tinged with pain. “Go be with your daughter.”

***

“Well? What do you think?”

Dae-ho looked around Hyun-ju’s living room in slight confusion. “I think somebody still lives here.”

“Well, yes,” Hyun-ju laughed. “I do.”

This did not aid his confusion. “You want Jun-hee to move in with you?”

“I want Jun-hee to move in next door,” she clarified. “It just became available. It’s an exact copy of this one, only mirrored. I already spoke with the landlord, and he’s willing to hold it until this weekend for her to make a decision.”

While Hyun-ju’s landlord did not exactly agree with her… lifestyle, the man was practical above anything else. In today’s economy, keeping apartments filled wasn’t always easy. And Hyun-ju had a good reputation, always having been on time with her rent. It had been a substantial chunk of her debt, near the end; She’d heard enough horror stories to know being trans and homeless was a deadly combination.

She showed Dae-ho around. Two bedrooms, one living space with adjacent kitchen, and…

“One tiny home office room.” She opened the door. “Please ignore the explosion of clothes. I swear it’s big enough to hold a baby crib and a dresser. So there would be room for the baby, and one more person, so Jun-hee could have her privacy without having to be alone.” She hesitated. “And then I was thinking… I could clear out my place some, and make room for the rest of us. We’re down to only five and baby, so it should fit." She’d have to start downsizing anyway. She couldn’t take it all along.

Dae-ho tried to count that out in his head. “Five?”

“Gi-hun.”

Dae-ho’s face broke out in realization. “Agh, I never even thought about that. You’re right, he’ll totally pine away if we all move out.” He frowned. “That’s one person too many though.”

Hyun-ju poked at her overflowing closet. “Once I clear out all of this, I can wedge a temporary bed in here. Gi-hun and Min-su can take the actual bedrooms.”

“I thought we’d be splitting up the women and the men?”

Hyun-ju looked suddenly unsure. “I thought… You’re better with the baby than I am.”

Dae-ho shrugged, but he utterly failed to hide a pleased little smile. “We can let Jun-hee decide. But are you really going to fit in there?” He poked at some of the clothes, accidentally dislodging some. “It’s tiny. And you’re not. And what about all your stuff?”

She hesitated. “Well…”

“Ah, yes,” he nodded with sudden understanding. “Thailand.”

She blinked. “I don’t remember telling you that.”

“Eh…” Dae-ho looked suddenly guilty. “Geum-ja-shi might have mentioned it.”

“Of course she did,” Hyun-ju sighed. Did that mean everybody knew? Did Gyeong-seok? Not that it mattered. Well, it did matter. But maybe it was easier this way.

She followed Dae-ho to the kitchen, where he was shamelessly pulling open cabinets. “So, what do you think? Honestly.”

“I think it’s going to be a lot better than the hotel,” he said happily, nosing through her fridge. “Oooh, can I have that?” He pulled out a drink. “And we’ll all be able to stick together! Ah, that is…” he looked at her apologetically.

“Until I move out,” she nodded. “But do you think Gi-hun is going to go for it?”

Dae-ho puffed up his cheeks, blowing out air as he pondered it over. “I mean… We could stage an intervention?”

***

In Gyeong-seok’s upcoming days, time ran together until it lost all meaning. First, he’d been firmly stuck in Na-yeon’s bed, to the point where she demanded he even sleep there. Then, when she finally allowed him to at least sit in a chair, he still had to negotiate with her every time he had to go as far as the bathroom. When he had to actually leave the room to go talk to her doctor, it took him a solid half hour and more patience than he thought he still had, before she finally let go of his hand.

Her tests, at least, were hopeful. Her first round, while not enough, had led to a marked improvement in her cell count. They would keep administering the new drug for the upcoming week to give her body the best possible chance after round two, then retest. Worst case… no, he refused to think on that. Second worst case, she’d need a round three.

It wasn’t until he was finally allowed to leave the room without her instantly crying over it, using his regained freedom to make it all the way over to the vending machines, that he realized he hadn’t messaged Hyun-ju. Not, he went on realizing with a sinking feeling as he checked his phone, for three whole days.

Gyeong-seok: I am so sorry for not messaging. I swear I’m not ignoring you.

She didn’t reply instantly. Which, of course she didn’t. She was probably miffed at his long silence, and rightfully so. There were technically dating, and technically he’d broken social etiquette, and so technically, she was well within her rights to call the whole thing off. Technically.

He morosely punched in his usual snack combination. Trudged back to the room. His phone beeped right as he walked through the door.

Hyun-ju: I know you’re not. Na-yeon ok?

Gyeong-seok stared.

Gyeong-seok: She made it through this round. We’ll know more next week.

Hyun-ju: Crossing all my fingers for her. Tell her I said hi.

He didn’t deserve this woman.

“Appa? Are you ok?”

He looked up to find Na-yeon looking at him, her little face scrunched up in worry. “Why would I not be ok, darling?”

“You look sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

“You do,” she insisted. She patted the bed next to her. “Sit.” He chuckled at her sternness, and sat. She checked his forehead. “And you’re warm. We should call in the doctor for you.”

He leaned into her little hand with a smile.” I’m all right darling. Appa is just tired.”

“Then you should nap,” she decided, with a stern little nod. “Go to bed.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, but she was having none of it. She kept staring at him sternly until he went and laid down on his bed.

“Now close your eyes, and I will read you a bedtime story.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Your eyes are still open!” He closed them with a smile. “That’s better.” He chuckled at her tone. She sounded just like him.

He had meant to only indulge her. But as she started reading him their usual bedtime story, he found himself instantly drifting off.

When he woke again, the room was dark. He jolted up in a panic, instantly checking on Na-yeon. Asleep. He checked the time. Nine in the evening. He cursed, dragging himself out of the bed. There was a little note standing on her nightstand, on the paper the nurses used to leave messages whenever he was out. He opened it.

‘Mr. Park. Na-yeon has had dinner, she ate more than half. We helped her brush her teeth and wash up, then tucked her in. She was adamant we did not wake you. Please drop by the nurse station at your earliest convenience.”

He sheepishly dragged himself over there, fully expecting to get lectured. Which he did, sort of. Only not in the way he had been expecting.

“You’re exhausted, Mr. Park,” the head nurse told him. “When was the last time you slept at home instead of at Na-yeon’s side?”

“I…” he tried to count it out in his head. “I honestly don’t remember,” he admitted.

She harrumphed. “Well, I’m hereby banning you from sleeping here the upcoming weekend. You’re not helping Na-yeon by running yourself into the ground,” she kept going as he made to protest. “She’s through the worst of the treatment for now. And we’ll make sure she rests.”

He fidgeted nervously. “But what if…”

“If anything happens, we will call you right away.” Her face softened. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you are doing enough. You need to go home, Mr. Park. You need to go do something else. Anything else. And then you can come back.”

***

Gyeong-seok: Na-yeon has graciously allowed me leave over the weekend. Would the Lady Hyun-ju be available for dinner, Saturday night, around seven?

Hyun-ju had read and reread the message a dozen times now, even after replying to the affirmative. But agreeing to a second date and actually going on a second date, those were vastly different realities. In the end, Hyun-ju had to call in a helpline.

“That,” Jun-hee said, “is a lot of clothes.”

“I can’t decide what to wear,” Hyun-ju groaned, picking up a dress from her bed that she’d picked up and dropped back down at least three times already. “Which of these says I’m not trying too hard, but I’m also not a complete slob?”

Jun-hee snorted. “You’re asking the woman who was ghosted after being told to go get an abortion?” She picked up one of the dresses, looking at it critically. “How serious is this?”

“It’s…” it wasn’t serious at all. They were friends who kissed once, really. Possibly hopefully could kiss once again. Sure, she was constantly thinking about his wellbeing, and whenever she wasn’t she was daydreaming about jumping his bones. But she was also supposed to be going to Thailand, so obviously it was just a fling between friends, something nice and sweet to explore, to treasure as a good memory once she finally got everyone back on their feet. “… casual,” she landed on.

Jun-hee raised an eyebrow. “Uhu.” She walked to the door. “Dae-hoya! Get in here, we’re dressing Hyun-ju for a date.”

“What are you doing?” Hyun-ju hissed.

“Unnie, no offense, but you need all the help you can get.”

Dae-ho barged into the room without knocking. “We are? Gah!” he instantly covered his eyes. “You’re naked!”

“I am hardly naked,” Hyun-ju huffed, who was wearing one towel around her and another on her head.

“Are you sure I should be here?” Dae-ho muffled from behind his hands.

“Dae-hoya, there’s dresses in here that have less fabric than what she’s wearing now.” Jun-hee picked up another one. “Ooh, this one has an open back.”

“I never wore that one out in public before,” Hyun-ju nervously said.

“Well, what do you want to accentuate? Aside from the obvious?”

Hyun-ju pulled a face. She’d been softening out slowly, now that she was back on a steady dose of estrogen. But she was still nowhere near where she wanted to be. And having been late to transitioning, there was nothing to be done for her size. “No heels. And nothing with bare arms.”

“Are you sure? Your arms look amazing.”

Dae-ho carefully peeked out from between his fingers.

“Men don’t like strong women.” But as she said it, she was reminded of the way Gyeong-seok had stared at her, back in the games. That look of slightly stunned awe when she’d admitted to having been special forces.

Jun-hee snorted. “Insecure men don’t like strong women. If he doesn’t like it, then he’s not worth your time.” She held up a deep purple dress. “How about this one?” It was simple but flowy, coming down to her calves, with a modest dip in the front, and no sleeves.

“That one,” Dae-ho nodded.

“Alright then.” Hyun-ju took it. “Thank you both.”

“Oh, we’re not done yet.” Jun-hee eyed Hyun-ju critically. “Show me your make-up.”

***
For all of two hours, Hyun-ju had allowed herself to feel great about herself. Jun-hee had done something to her eyes that made them pop and match the dress, and she’d even shown her a trick to get her lipstick lined out perfect. She had opted to wear her hair down, as it helped hide her jawline, and when she looked in the mirror, she could almost believe she passed. Almost.

Then, when she had walked out wearing that dress, she’d passed Gi-hun in the hall who had done a surprised double take, before telling her to ‘be back by eleven, young lady’. Behind him, Dae-ho was giving her a double thumbs up. It was silly, and stupid, and over the top, but she couldn’t help but chuckle about their antics. It helped her keep her head high on her way to the restaurant. She’d taken a taxi, so she only had to walk three streets total, but even on that small walk, absolutely nobody looked at her like she was a freak.

Gyeong-seok was waiting for her inside the restaurant. Nothing too fancy, but a place with an actual menu and even a wine card. He was wearing nice dress pants and a long-sleeved shirt that didn’t entirely match the goofy smile on his face once he spotted her. He got up to greet her, placing a kiss on her cheek, slow enough for her to avoid should she choose to. She allowed it, reveling in the brief closeness of him. He smelled nice.

Hyun-ju was an observant woman. She didn’t miss how he insisted on pulling out her chair for her again, how he complimented her dress with that same slightly dazed look. How he kept glancing from his menu to her, how some of those glances lingered on her arms.

Unfortunately, it meant she could also pinpoint the exact moment their server made her. She knew she’d need voice training eventually. It didn’t get her clocked all the time, plenty of women had deep voices. She pretended she didn’t notice the puzzled frown forming on the servers face, but she couldn’t help the little wince as his eyes dipped down to her throat. That was a bad sign.

An equally bad sign was that he had stopped writing down her order.

Hyun-ju braced herself. They were going to get kicked out. They were going to get kicked out and she was used to that, but Gyeong-seok wasn’t, and she was going to ruin this date before it had even really begun…

“We don’t serve your—” the server started, then jumped, as a loud bang echoed through the restaurant.

Gyeong-seok had slammed his menu down on the table. “Actually,” he said, with clear anger, getting up. “We will be leaving. This establishment leaves much to be desired.” He offered Hyun-ju his arm, still staring down the server. “Come, gonjunim.”

She bypassed his outstretched arm, making a beeline for the exit.

Gyeong-seok followed her out. “Are you alright?” He was shaking with barely contained anger, and something about that just… set her off.

“I can take care of myself,” she snapped.

He blinked, startled, anger melting away. “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean you should suffer for it.”

“Well.” She crossed her arms. It was hard to stay angry at such an honest face. “Now we’re both hungry.” She started walking.

He fell in place beside her. “My place is not too far from here. We could order in? No prying eyes there.”

She gave him a side eye. “None aside from yours. You take all your dates back to your place on the second date?”

He spluttered. “Hyun-juna! That’s not what I… I wouldn’t…”

I would, she thought. The realization scared her a little. It fascinated her more. She truly believed his planned intentions hadn’t been anything but dinner, with maybe a kiss at the end of it. A proper date, with proper courting. As if she was a proper woman.

He hailed them a taxi. She lingered on his frame as he did, on his back, his arm, the way his shirt stretched and hinted at the form underneath. At his fingers as he offered her a hand to help her in the car.

As soon as the taxi pulled away, she was kissing him. He muffled her name in utter surprise against her lips.

Dating was hard. It was a lot of second guessing. But kissing. Kissing was easy. He made it easy. The way he responded to her, the way that she knew that he wanted this. Even when he gently pulled back, she knew, knew it didn’t come from a place of badly hidden disgust. That he simply, genuinely, wanted to be a gentleman.

Hyun-ju desperately wanted him not to be. But she refrained from kissing him for the rest of the ride.

***

The thing was, Hyun-ju was too observant by far.

Gyeong-seok’s place looked tidy enough, in the sense that the only clutter was child themed. But there was dust on the shelves, in much the same way as her own abandoned home. Also much like her own, the space reeked slightly of desperation.

Another thing she couldn’t help but notice, as she settled into the living room while he got her a drink, was what wasn’t there. There were plenty of pictures of Na-yeon, posed around the place. There were none at all of her mother.

She considered the idea that they might be too painful to keep around, before rejecting it outright. Gyeong-seok lived for his daughter. To the point where he had risked dying for her. Even if it was too painful for him, he’d still have at least one picture around, for Na-yeon’s sake. So what happened?

He walked back in from the kitchen, handing her an iced tea. “It’s very single parent, I’m afraid,” he grinned apologetically.

“It’s perfectly fine,” she assured him, as he sat down, she was pleased to note, on the couch next to her. “How are you?”

“Well, thanks to you and Gi-hun, I was able to stay with Na-yeon throughout her second round.” He shot her a grateful look. “Tests next week should let us know if she needs another one, but her doctor said her body responded well to the first round, so we’re tentatively hopeful…” He sputtered to a stop, looking down at where she’d gently put her hand on his.

“And that is wonderful,” she said. “Truly. But how are you doing?”

His startled gaze shot back up to hers. “I… I’m surviving.”

Now that just wouldn’t do. “Surviving was in there. Out here, we live. Yes?”

“I suppose,” he mumbled, looking away.

And that, that just wouldn’t do either. She gently took hold of his chin, turning him to face her. “Good. Now say it like you mean it.”

He swallowed thickly, jaw flexing under her fingers. “We’re alive.”

“We are.” And she couldn’t help herself. Only realized she’d leaned in when his eyes widened. Her hand still cradled his chin, holding him in place.

“What are we doing?” he whispered. He didn’t pull away.

“Living a little.” She kissed him.

And she tried to be gentle. Tried to take it slow, to savor it, to keep this a kiss within the acceptable limits of a second date. But he was the only man she ever kissed. And after a lifetime of bad fits, she found him wholly addictive.

She devoured his mouth. Chased those little sounds he made as they fell from his lips. And then, as he pulled back to whisper her name, she didn’t let him, following right along, placing herself firmly in his lap. He gasped, hands coming up to rest on her back, and he was warm, so warm against her, and when she slid her tongue into his mouth he groaned so beautifully, the tremor of it reaching all the way down to her core…

He pulled back suddenly. “I thought you were hungry.”

“I am,” she panted, grinning. “Aren’t you?”

Oh, but he was. She could see it in his eyes, that deep desperation that she’s sure is mirrored in her own. She could feel it in the way his hands flexed around her waist, as he… gently pushed her out of his lap?

“We really should eat something first,” he said, voice rough, and more than a little shaken.

“I thought we were.” But the surge of confidence that had landed her in his lap, was fading fast. In a somewhat desperate attempt to reclaim it, she tried for another kiss.

He gently pulled away. “Hyun-juna… You know that’s not all I’m interested in… right? Because if I gave you that impression…”

He was looking at her so honestly, so obviously on the edge of wanting, she almost leaned right back in. But then what? They’d shag once, awkwardly part ways, never talk about it again? Gyeong-seok was too precious to simply devour and discard.

Words. She had to use her words. “Dinner before dessert, got it,” she tried to joke. Let him go.

He all but catapulted himself out of the couch. “I, eh… I got some take out menus here, depending on what you’re in the mood fo— depending on what food you like.” He excused himself to a different room to call in their order.

She made herself sit back down. Readjusted her dress, demurely crossed her hands in her lap. Mostly to hide the fact that said lap was currently not acting demurely at all. She grimaced at the reminder of her… anatomy. Potentially, that could be a bit of a problem.

When he came back, he held up the phone. “Should take about fifteen minutes.” He hesitated, looking at the couch, then making as to sit in a separate chair.

“Gyeong-seokya…” she scooted into the very corner of the couch to give him room. “I’m sorry. I overstepped, and I apologize. I promise I’ll behave.”

He sat down in the opposite corner.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she went on apologizing, wringing her hands, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. “Truth is, I don’t have a lot of experience with this. I never kissed a man before, and…”

His eyebrows shot up. “Never?”

Oh great, now he thought she was an absolute prude. “I mean, I did date. Before,” she specified. She knew it wasn’t fair of her to keep studying his face, his composure, at every reminder to him of what she was. But it was a hard thing to unlearn. Still, the knot of unease unwound a little as he simply nodded in understanding.

“So you’ve only ever been with women?”

She nodded, still twisting her fingers. “If you can call it that. It always felt off.” She pulled a face. “Kissing women is weird.”

He smiled softly at that. “Agree to disagree.”

She snapped his eyes to his. “Okay, but see, this, you can’t just keep saying things like this and expect me not to kiss you.” His smile widened playfully. “I swear you are doing this on purpose,” she huffed.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either. It’s been a long, long while since a pretty woman found someone like me desirable.”

She dropped her eyes into her lap, staring at her fingers. She couldn’t seem to stop twisting them.

“Hyun-juna.”

She looked up.

“You really are, you know,” he said softly. Frowned as she let out a little self-deprecating chuckle.

“I’m not…” she swallowed, horrified to suddenly find a lump in her throat. “You don’t have to…”

Something in his face hardened. He stood up from the couch. Offered her a hand.

Tentatively, she took it. Allowed him to help her up.

He took hold of both of her hands. Smiled at her. Then, slowly, he dropped his gaze down to her lips. Trailed it down over her neck. He lingered on her cleavage, flitting back up to meet her eyes with a cheeky smile, before going back down, and down… She shivered as he took in her hips, her legs, her calves, as he slowly, slowly dragged his eyes back up. His right hand followed, trailing up her wrist, her arm. The way he shivered as his fingers caressed her muscles would have left her breathless, if she’d had any breath left to give.

His eyes found hers again. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

She all but yanked her hand out of his, turning away. “When… when does our food get here?” She threw herself down on the couch. Found herself trembling. Avoided looking at him as he sat back down, far enough to give her space.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes,” she gritted out.

“I’m sorry.”

And he meant it. She could tell that he did. The apology, as well as the…She twisted her fingers again, almost to the point of pain.

When the food came, it was a welcome relief. They ate almost in silence. What little they did say was light, and as far away from serious as they could manage. When they were done, Gyeong-seok cleaned up their containers, and offered her another drink.

“Or I could call you a taxi?” He looked so honestly remorseful, that she didn’t have the heart to run away.

They returned to the couch. Each to their corner.

“How about this,” Hyun-ju said, making a decision. “Dating is about getting to know each other better, yes?” She pulled her feet up in the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. “So. Ask me a question.”

He considered it. “What if I ask something you don’t want to answer? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again.”

“Try me.” She didn’t rightly know why all of this was so terrifying. Not after having survived much worse before. But she knew she had to at least give it a shot. And Gyeong-seok was kind. He was safe. She had to remember that.

He nodded slowly, thinking it over. “Ok. But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…”

“I said try me.”

“Yon-sik said you needed the prize money for surgeries.”

Her newfound courage plummeted in her chest. “That’s not a question.”

“I'll rephrase. What kind of surgeries?”

“Does it matter?” Maybe calling that taxi had been the better option after all.

He shook his head in obvious frustration. “That’s not what I…” he breathed out through his nose, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m a father to a kid who is in and out of procedures. How… dangerous are these things?”

He was worried. The revelation dislodged something, and she found herself unfurling slightly.

“Ah. Well… The biggest one is bottom surgery. Basically they… rewire your downstairs department. It’s invasive, but there are expert hospitals out there, where it’s standard procedure by now. The surgery is about as dangerous as getting your appendix removed, I’m told.” He looked immensely relieved at that, and incredibly, not grossed out at all. “Recovery time is going to suck, though.”

“Are we talking weeks? Months?”

“Four months total, but the first weeks are going to be the worst.”

He sucked in a sympathetic breath.

She carefully studied his face. “Some people would say it goes against nature.” Why did she keep doing this? Why did she keep poking him about her being trans, again and again?

He gave her a look. “What, like plastic surgery? Everyone and their uncle is getting that done, why would this be any different?”

“Plenty of people have a problem with…”

“Hyun-juna,” he said flatly. “I am father to a daughter who has blood cancer. As far as I am concerned, nature can stuff it.”

She snapped her mouth shut.

“Thank you for answering that. For trusting me." he smiled at her. "Your turn.”

She hugged her knees. “If Na-yeon gets better…”

“When,” he automatically corrected.

“Sorry, yes, of course. When Na-yeon gets better, will you continue to work at the park?”

“Until I find something better.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Something that lets me pick her up from school. Something that doesn’t involve staring at a computer all day. Something artful. Hopeful.” He pulled a self-deprecating face. “That sounds silly.”

“Not silly at all. We need more beauty in this world.”

“I agree,” he said softly, looking at her so earnestly she almost believed it. “You?”

“Work? I don’t know. I never had a job outside of the military. The skills don’t exactly transfer.”

“You have leadership skills,” he said. “You work well in a team. You’re used to rigorous conditions. That has to account for something.”

“I suppose,” she allowed.

“Your turn.”

She unfurled herself. Hesitated. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…”

“Just ask.” He sounded suddenly weary. Resigned. Like he knew what was coming, and just wanted it over with.

“What happened to Na-yeon’s mother?”

There it was again. That same emotion in his eyes, flitting to the surface from far, far down. It wasn’t sadness, she realized. Nothing as wholesome as that. He took a hard, settling breath. Avoided her eyes. “She left. Apparently having a child with cancer wasn’t how she had planned her life to go.”

The sudden anger that welled up inside her sidewinded Hyun-ju to the point where she momentarily lost her voice. “…Where is she now?”

“I have no idea,” he said flatly. “She signed away her parental rights and the divorce papers in one go. Na-yeon was two. She doesn’t remember her.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Why?" he scoffed. "You're not the one who ran out on her.”

“She ran out on both of you.”

He looked up startled, quickly looking away again, but not quickly enough. For a moment, she’d seen the absolute anguish, bright on the surface.

“I’m sorry.” Slowly, she closed the distance between them. “I shouldn’t have asked.” Carefully, she took hold of both of his hands. He let her, but he didn’t turn to face her. “I think I’m doing this dating thing wrong,” she added.

“I think you’re doing amazing.” His voice sounded slightly rough, but honest.

She gently squeezed his hands. “So, not the worst second date you ever had?”

“Oh I could tell you stories,” he said earnestly. Smiled when she chuckled at that. Turned to face her.

She offered him a hug. Her breath hitched only a little, at how easily he slid into her arms. His hair smelled amazing. “…What time did you want to be back at the hospital?”

“Ah…” he pulled back, suddenly looking sheepish. “The nurses kicked me out for the weekend. Said it was for my own mental health, or something silly like that.”

“Mental health isn’t silly at all.” She stood up from the couch, pulling him along. “Now. Why don’t you give me a tour of the place?”

***

Gyeong-seok had told himself, sternly, that he was going to be a gentleman. That he wasn’t going to jump this poor woman at any point during their second date. No matter how gorgeous she looked in that dress, or how understanding she smiled at him, or how absolutely furious she had looked when she’d learned about what his ex had done… No. Slow. He was supposed to go slow. Someone like Hyun-ju wasn’t to be chased, to be cornered. For one, she could absolutely destroy you for even considering it.

He should have briefed Hyun-ju about the plan, though. Because they made it as far as three steps from the couch, before Gyeong-seok found himself being kissed again.

He was now seriously taking into consideration, that if a lady went through the trouble of kissing you not once, not twice, but three times in one evening, that maybe it would be quite alright to accept what she was offering. That it might be downright rude at that point, really, to pull away.

He reached up his hands to cup her face, to deepen the kiss.

She broke away from his lips with a sharp little hiss. He froze.

“Not there,” she whispered, taking hold of his wrists to lower his arms. She was avoiding his gaze, and for a terrible moment he felt like he’d horribly misstepped. But she wasn’t pulling away, staying close enough for him to feel her breath on his lips. She slipped her hands in his.

He gently squeezed them. “No touching the face?” She nodded, still avoiding his eyes. He squeezed her hands again, in wordless comfort. “Anything else?”

“Not…” her gaze skittered nervously, brushing his before looking away.

He brushed his lips against hers. “Tell me.”

She huffed in clear embarrassment. “Not below the belt.”

Ah. So that was it. “Not below the belt,” he affirmed. He planted another kiss, tilted his head. “Permission to ask about the ass?” She snorted, and he allowed himself a little smile of victory.

“The ass is fine.”

“Hell yeah it is,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. She chuckled, in a breathy way that shot straight to his core. He planted his hands on her lower back, sliding down, slow enough to give her time to change her mind. Couldn’t help the little groan that escaped him when he palmed her. Fuck, but she worked out.

She gasped, a gorgeous little sound, and he caught it hungrily in a quick kiss. “Yes?” He murmured against her lips. She kissed him in reply, which he disentangled from with a grin. “Words, darling. Yes?”

“Yes,” she huffed out. “The ass is fine.” She jumped a little in his arms as he squeezed it again, and she laughed. “And you?”

“I mean, I know I’m not exactly in my prime anymore, but I’d like to think I’m at least a little bit fine.”

She slapped his chest, but she was grinning. “Anything off limits for you, you dolt.”

He thought it over. “Not that I can think of?”

Something flickered in her eyes. “Well. Do let me know if we run into something you can think of.”

“What’s that supposed to—whump.”

In one smooth motion, she had walked him backwards, pressing his back flush against the wall. She’d done it easily, like he weighed nothing, with a hint of roughness that made the blood drain from his face to go rush someplace else.

“What—" he managed, before her lips were back on his, only stealing a quick kiss before moving on to his neck.

“Don’t mind me.” He could feel her smile, ghosting the skin behind his ear. Her fingers were sliding up the nape of his neck. “Just doing some recon.” She gently scraped her fingernails through his hair, took hold, and lightly tugged. A delicious shiver ran all the way down his spine.

And then she tapped his feet apart with hers, slotted her leg firmly between his, and Gyeon-seok, trapped between a hard place and a goddess, found himself in heaven.

Gnnn, he groaned, bucking against the pressure.

“Is that right?” she chuckled, feathering kisses along his neck, tightening her hold of his hair. The contrast in pressure was maddening.

“Woman,” he gasped, “you are going to be the death of me.”

“I better not be,” she growled, low in his ear. If she hadn’t been holding him up, it would have floored him.

He was completely at her mercy, pinned by her strength, head caught in her deft fingers. Trembling like a damn teenager. “Let me kiss you,” he panted. “Please please please—”

She let go of his hair and he crushed into her mouth, devouring everything she gave him.

He was trying, really trying, not to shamelessly rut against her leg. But it was a battle he couldn’t even begin to win, as she was apparently attempting the exact opposite. She would reward every little twitch with a pleased hum, a flick of her tongue, a light tug of his hair, until he was gasping with the effort of giving her exactly what she was demanding.

She was everywhere, and she was everything. She was between his legs, in his hair, in his mouth, in his mind, drowning out, if only for a moment, everything else. He wasn’t a struggling artist, or a husband abandoned, a parent twice over. He wasn’t a number, taken and tortured for amusement. All he was, the only thing he was, was hers.

“It’s alright,” she murmured against his lips, blanketing him, pressing into him. “I’ve got you.”

He sobbed when he came.

When the world returned to him, sluggish and slow, she was still holding him up.

“Alright?”

He nodded weakly into her shoulder.

“Good. Can you find your feet for me, aein?” It took him a few tries. It didn’t seem to bother her. “There we go, well done. Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”

When he woke, he couldn’t remember how she’d gotten him there. Couldn’t remember dreaming at all. His head was still too full of her.

When he stumbled out of the bedroom, he found her bunked down on his couch. He scolded her for letting him take the bed, but she simply smiled at him, with a pleased little grin that threatened to warm him to his core all over again. He retreated into the kitchen, pulling some things from the freezer to make her a hasty breakfast soup.

He ended up burning it, but it wasn’t his fault. She was wearing his damn shirt.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju was feeling… well, she was feeling a great many things.

She was feeling sexy.

It wasn’t a feeling she had a lot of experience with. She had allowed herself to revel in it, while she drifted off to sleep. In the way she’d made him sound, made him feel. Basked in it a little more in the morning, in the way he kept throwing little distracted glances at her in his shirt, while he swore up and down that he usually was a better cook, honest.

She was feeling giddy.

With the way he insisted on feeding her, the way he was upset she had spent the night cramped on his couch. How he made sure she had enough to eat before calling her a taxi. With how he hesitated, slightly, before kissing her goodbye, even now giving her time to pull away. To go at her pace.

She was feeling… panicked.

When she got into the taxi and finally checked her phone, and found she’d missed five calls from Gi-hun, three from Dae-ho, and about a dozen or so messages from Jun-hee. Panic that morphed quickly into sheepishness once she realized the emergency was actually her, not coming home last night without a single word of warning.

She was feeling grateful.

She wasn’t used to people worrying. Wasn’t used to coming home to an adult shouting at her, not out of malice, but out of care. It was nice, in a way, to stand there and let Gi-hun rage, about how she could have been anywhere, with anyone, how hard is it to pick up a phone, did she know how worried they’d all been, did she know he actually put Jun-ho on standby? It was strangely difficult not to smile, even more so when Dae-ho came barging into the hallway at all the shouting, like an overly worried sibling.

But most of all she was feeling… powerful.

She laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She’d already known Gyeong-seok was good at following orders. Back in the games he had accepted her lead without question, without even a hint of annoyance at having to fall in line behind a woman. Granted, she hadn’t meant to take it this far. Only really planned to find some of his buttons, some of his limits. She’d been ready to back off at the slightest resistance, only to find him willing, and pliant, and so fucking trusting. And oh, the way that he begged. The way she just knew that if she’d refused him, he’d have listened, even if it meant to suffer… she shivered with the heat of the memory, with the way the sound of it would forever be seared in her mind.

And even before all that, in between the awkwardness. He’d been so understanding, asking questions without ever judging any of the answers. After a lifetime of resistance towards what she wanted, what she needed. What she was. A woman could get used to it all.

You’re going to Thailand.

The thought rose unbidden, like a dislodged piece of fabric in an overflowing wardrobe. She picked it up. Fastened it back on its proverbial hanger. Stuffed it back out of sight.

Yes, she was going to Thailand. But also, it wasn’t as if she was leaving tomorrow. She had things to prepare first, people to care for. A life, to live a little.

Thailand could wait.

***

Gyeong-seok spent the last day of his weekend cleaning house. He hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until the morning sun had cast its judgy glares through all the dust. He’d always liked cleaning, the way his mind could wander and percolate as he worked, the way he could look back on a job well done. Dust free and freshly mopped, the place actually looked worthy of living in.

He also worked through all the laundry. Everything aside from yesterday’s shirt. If he could get away with it, he’d never wash that again. On more than one occasion, he found himself pausing his work to pick it back up, and, a little shamefully, press his face into it. To allow himself the fleeting pleasure of being enveloped by her all over again…

With the last of the laundry spinning, he opened his laptop. First off, he couldn’t risk a repeat of that restaurant disaster. He tried searching for LGBTQA+ friendly places, and was both surprised to find a decent number of options in Seoul, as well as discouraged as to what kind. Maybe he was getting old, but he didn’t feel like he was still the clubbing sort. And something told him Hyun-ju wasn’t either.

He found himself clicking on, and on, following articles on life in South Korea as a queer person, tips and tricks on how to pass, the current state of liberties and laws… He was soon morosely staring at the screen with both hands in his hair. He’d known it was bad. But he’d known it in a way that… well, a regular man didn’t know how bad female harassment could get. He never had to worry about it before, aside from not being a dick himself. Which was, in his opinion, a depressingly low bar to clear. He pulled out his phone, contemplated his next move.

How did one say, respectfully, that she had absolutely rocked his world, and he wanted very much to return the favor?

***

Hyun-ju looked up from folding clothes into boxes when her phone buzzed.

Gyeong-seok: While I immensely enjoyed how our date turned out, I would love to take you out properly. Are there any places you’d recommend?

Are there any places where they won’t kick us right back out, Hyun-ju translated, her mood dampening a little.

It wasn’t that there wasn’t a queer scene present in Seoul. But a great many of those places didn’t advertise themselves outside of their own safe spaces. With Hyun-ju’s plans always having pointed towards leaving, she had only ever dipped her toes in, wary of making friends she’d only have to leave behind again. The current irony wasn’t lost on her.

Hyun-ju: We don’t have to go to a restaurant. Could be a food stall. Movies? What do you like?

Gyeong-seok: Tell me what sort of food you like, and I’ll set something up.

Gyeong-seok: I’m sorry again about the couch. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

Hyun-ju: I was used to sleeping barracks long before those bunk beds. Stop worrying about it.

Gyeong-seok: As your boyfriend, it is sort of my solemn duty to worry about you.

Hyun-ju stared at the word. Boyfriend. It sounded so official. Like they were actually properly dating. Then again, after what she had pulled yesterday, what else was he supposed to think?

“Is that the mystery guy?” Dae-ho asked, walking past carrying another box.

Hyun-ju hurriedly angled her phone down. “… Maybe.”

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Jun-hee grinned, from where she was sitting on Hyun-ju’s couch, breastfeeding the baby. “I remember what that was like.”

“You’re almost half my age,” Hyun-ju laughed, returning to her work. She was almost done clearing out the closet, aka her future bedroom. With Dae-ho helping her, it hadn’t taken too long at all.

Hyun-ju, Dae-ho and Min-su had spent all of Thursday repainting the place next door (absolutely no pink, yellow or greens), and then Friday they’d cleaned it up, aired it out extra, and put in the furniture. They’d done the actual move itself today: It had taken exactly one trip, on account of neither of them having a whole lot of personal things. Half of the car had been stuffed with baby gear.

“So what’s the plan on getting Gi-hun and Min-su to agree on this again?” Jun-hee asked, moving the baby to her lap to burp her.

Dae-ho shrugged. “We tell Min-su this is where he lives now.”

“Alright, fair. What’s the plan for getting Gi-hun to agree?”

“I still vote intervention,” Dae-ho said.

Hyun-ju held the box closed while Dae-ho taped it shut. “Well, if you’re both up for it, we could hide the intervention within a housewarming?”

“Housewarming,” Jun-hee repeated. “You know. I never had a place all to myself before.” Dae-ho pointedly pointed at himself with the tape gun. “I never had a place to myself and Uncle Dae-hoya before,” she corrected. Dae-ho happily grinned.

“So who are you thinking?” Hyun-ju asked. “Hotel people only?”

“You can’t leave out Geum-ja-shi,” Jun-hee said. “Why don’t we do the people in the group chat?” She glanced over at Hyun-ju. “Or do you want to invite your mystery guy, unnie?”

“No outsiders,” Dae-ho protested.

Hyun-ju hastily picked up the box, the better to hide her face. “You decide. It’s your home now.”

“My home.” Jun-hee gently held up her daughter. “You hear that little one? Your omma did it. We have a home, all our own.”

“And uncle Dae-ho’s!”

“And your Uncle Dae-ho.”

***

Dae-ho has added Gi-hun to the Group chat.

Jun-hee: INVITATION: You are all hereby cordially invited to our new home for a housewarming. Me and the baby (and Uncle Dae-ho) moved in this weekend. Everyone welcome this upcoming Friday, at 8.

Jun-hee: Gi-hun-shi, please come.

Gi-hun: I’ll think about it.

Gi-hun has left the Group Chat.

Dae-ho: Well, let’s call that progress.

Geum-ja: Congratulations with the move! Why didn’t you let us know, we could have helped!

Dae-ho: That’s alright, we had Hyun-ju, and Min-su. It wasn’t too hard.

Jun-hee: You literally came back with paint in your hair.

***

“Appa, your phone is ringing.”

Gyeong-seok tried to grab for it one handed, on account of the back of his other hand being currently full of gonggi stones. He could of course let them fall, but then he’d technically lose, something Na-yeon would then gleefully remind him of until at least next Monday. He had put his phone down on her nightstand though, which turned out to be just out of reach. “Na-yeona, can you get it for me… thank you.” He held out his hand.

Na-yeon, instead of handing over the phone, clicked the camera button. “Ello?”

“Na-yeona!” He tried to take the phone from her, but she skillfully dodged him.

“It’s the pretty lady!” she grinned at the screen. “Hi!”

“Hi Na-yeona, what a lovely surprise. Is your appa around?”

Gyeong-seok lunged for the phone, managing to get it.

“Appa, you lose, you dropped all of them.”

He turned the phone towards him, grinned apologetically at the image of Hyun-ju, and moved to turn the camera off.

“I want to talk too!”

Gyeong-seok sighed. “Hang on Hyun-juna…” He wedged himself next to Na-yeon, and flipped the phone on its side so she could join him on camera. “There, happy?”

Na-yeon grinned, and waved at Hyun-ju. “Hiiii! We were playing Gonggi. Appa lost.”

“Is that right?” Hyun-ju chuckled, grin widening when Na-yeon nodded at the same time as Gyeong-seok mouthed ‘she cheated’.

“Are you coming over to visit soon?” Na-yeon asked next.

“Eh…” Hyun-ju glanced over at Gyeong-seok. “Well, you’ll have to ask your appa if that would be alright.”

“I’ll do that,” she seriously said, turning to him. “Appa can Hyun-juna come visit?”

Gyeong-seok moved his face a little closer to ger, matching her seriousness. “Well why don’t you tell Hyun-juna when visiting hours are, and then she can see if that fits her busy schedule.”

“Visiting hours are always,” Na-yeon decreed.

“I know when visiting hours are,” Hyun-ju laughed. “I’ll try and come over somewhere this week, is that alright?” Na-yeon nodded happily. “Now, could I possibly borrow your appa for a bit? I promise I’ll give him right back.”

“Just so you know,” Gyeong-seok said, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him. “Saying ‘this week’ to a five-year-old means she’ll ask me about you every day from here until Friday.” He smiled at the sound of her laugh.

“I could come over tomorrow then, if that fits?” She suddenly sounded unsure. “If… if it’s really ok with you.”

“Why would it not be ok with me? Na-yeon likes you. I like you,” he added.

“I know you do.”

A shiver pulled down his spine. Whenever she laughed, in that deep and pleasant way, his heart soared. But whenever she dropped her voice a shade lower still, whole other parts of his body aimed for equally great heights. “Why, eh, why did you call?”

“Are you going to the housewarming on Friday?”

“Like, as a date?”

Hyun-ju sighed. “Actually… I was thinking… I didn’t tell anybody we were dating yet.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding. “And you’d rather they didn’t know. That’s ok.”

“… It is?”

“I mean… yeah?” He leaned against the door. “It’s all still a bit new, right? We can keep it to ourselves. I can be friendly.”

“I know you can.”

He took a steadying breath. “Hyun-juna, full disclosure, if you use that voice on Friday, nobody is going to walk away believing we are just friends.”

The sound of her surprised laughter lingered with him for the remainder of the evening. He lost at gonggi. A lot.

***

“You’re coming to the housewarming on Friday.”

Gi-hun didn’t look up from his work. “I said I’d think about it.”

“It wasn’t a question,” Hyun-ju said flatly, turning her attention to her next target. “Min-suya.”

The boy meekly looked up from his filing. “Yes Nuna?”

“You’re coming to the housewarming on Friday.”

“Yes Nuna.”

“In fact, better pack your things, you’re moving in next door to them.”

He blinked. “… Yes Nuna.”

“Good, glad that’s settled.” She turned back to Gi-hun. “Min-su is going to need help moving his things on Friday.”

He glowered at her. She glowered right back. After a few seconds filled with nervous paper shuffling from Min-su, Gi-hun looked away. “I’ll poke my head in.”

Hyun-ju returned to her work with a smile.

***

On Tuesday evening, Hyun-ju nervously checked her reflection in the mirror of the hospital elevator. She always felt a tad self-conscious about her outfits when meeting up with Gyeong-seok, but this was different. She was about to walk into a children’s ward. Sure, she’d been here before, but Gyeong-seok had been with her then. She was fixing her hair for the third time, when the elevator dinged. Smiling tightly at the nurse station, she made her way over to the room, and knocked.

After a few beats, Gyeong-seok opened the door. “Hey,” he smiled, keeping his voice low. “Just so you know, she’s having a bad day about her hair. Best not mention it.”

“…What hair?” Hyun-ju stupidly said.

“Exactly.” He waved her in. “Na-yeona, look who came to visit.”

“Hyun-juna!” Na-yeon shouted happily.

“Na-yeona, I told you not to call elder people by their name, it’s rude. Call her…” he hesitated, looking at Hyun-ju.

“You can call me unnie?” Hyun-ju suggested.

Na-yeon scrunched up her nose. “You don’t look like an unnie.”

Hyun-ju’s heart sank. Clocked by a five-year-old. A new low. “No?”

“No, you look like a princess!”

Hyun-ju huffed out a startled laugh. “I’m not a princess.”

“No, no, she’d got a point,” Gyeong-seok grinned teasingly.

His grin grew even more when Na-yeon pointed at the bed and said, in her very best polite voice; “Please have a seat, Hyun-jugonju.”

Hyun-ju managed to stifle a snort. Instead, to Na-yeon’s clear delight, she dropped into a light curtsy, before gracefully sitting down. “I thank you kindly for your invitation, Na-yeongonju.”

Na-yeon giggled. “Want to play gonggi again?”

“Sure,” Hyun-ju smiled, even though she still had zero skills in the game.

There was a knock at the door, and a nurse poked his head in. “Mr. Park, could you step out for a moment? The doctor has her test results.”

Gyeong-seok shot up from his chair. “Of course. Na-yeona, be good, I’ll be right back.” He kissed her on the top of her head, but she was already waving him off.

“Appaaa, we’re playing!”

He chuckled, shooting an apologetic look at Hyun-ju. “Be right back, if that’s alright?”

She nodded mutely, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as he stepped out. It shouldn’t be so surprising to her. Jun-hee handed her the baby all the time. And she already knew Gyeong-seok trusted her with his life. Still, her throat felt kind of tight.

She tried to pay attention while Na-yeon happily chattered on, completely unbothered. When they moved on to actually throwing the gonggi stones, simply throwing up and catching without picking any up, Na-yeon suddenly reached for her hand.

“I like your nails.”

Hyun-ju almost reflexively pulled back. “Oh. Thank you.” She’d painted them her usual black.

Na-yeon latched her hands onto hers. They looked positively tiny against her own. “I want nail polish too, but the nurses won’t let me.”

She looked so absolutely crestfallen, Hyun-ju found herself speaking without thinking. “Well, tell you what. When you go back home, I’ll bring over my collection. And we can paint your nails.”

She grinned happily. “And appa’s nails!”

“If he wants,” Hyun-ju chuckled.

“Appa!” Na-yeon shouted, as Gyeong-seok walked back into the room. “Hyun-jugonju is going to paint my nails!”

He looked a bit startled. “What, now?”

“When I go home!”

“That’s very nice of her.” His eyes met Hyun-ju’s, and she was left a little breathless with how soft they looked. He went to sit on the bed next to his daughter. “Na-yeona, the doctor showed me your test results.”

Na-yeon instantly pulled a face.

Hyun-ju made as to stand up. “Do you need me to step out?”

“No, stay!” Na-yeon latched on to her hand again. “We were playing!”

“Na-yeona,” Gyeong-seok sighed. “I need to talk to you about your tests.”

Na-yeon was clearly getting upset. “I don’t want to.”

“The good news,” Gyeon-seok began, catching Na-yeon’s hands with a weary sigh as she reached to cover her ears. “The good news, is that the treatment is working really well, ok? The bad news,” he went on, keeping a firm hold of her arms as she was now squirming to get away, “is that the doctor really feels we should do just one more round—”

“No!” she screamed, pulling at his grip with all her might, which wasn’t a whole lot, but it was still more than should rightfully fit into her tiny body. “I don’t want to!”

Na-yeona,” he tried, grappling her without hurting her, mindful of her catheter. “It’s to make you healthy again—”

“You lie!” She was full on wailing now, her legs trashing up into the table, scattering gonggi stones everywhere. Hyun-ju ducked to retrieve them, finding her fingers shaking. “I never get better! Never ever—" her cries cut off abruptly.

Gyeong-seok had pulled Na-yeon against his chest, hugging her tight. She was sobbing, her little body shaking, face smothered into her dad’s shirt.

Feeling incredibly awkward, an intruder, Hyun-ju rose, slowly putting the stones down on the nightstand. She should go. She didn’t belong here. This was private. Every emotion on Gyeong-seok’s face felt so, so private.

“Will you stay with me?” Na-yeon’s voice came out muffled and small.

Gyeong-seok’s jaw tensed. “I can’t, baby, I have to go to work—”

“You always have to go to work!”

“I know.”

“I hate you!” she screamed into his chest.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know. It’s alright.”

“No!”

“I’ll wait out in the hall,” Hyun-ju whispered, not waiting for anyone to acknowledge her. Her hands were shaking so hard she had to try the door twice. It took a while for them to stop shaking.

It took a great while longer for the door to open again.

“She cried herself to sleep.” Gyeong-seok’s face looked terrible. Like he was moments away from following his daughter’s example. “I’m sorry about that. I should have waited with telling her until you were gone.”

A surge of protectiveness overwhelmed her. She put a gentle hand to his chest, nudging him back into the room so she could step back in, closing the door behind them. She opened her arms, offering him a hug.

He hesitated, clearly torn.

“Come here.”

He gave in, melting into her arms. Her hands came up, caressing his neck, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He was trembling. If she closed her eyes, they could be back in that cave.

“I know it doesn’t feel like it right now,” she whispered, “but you’re doing an amazing job.” His arms clenched around her. “She is so lucky to have you.”

He choked down a sob. “I have got to stop crying in your arms,” he tried to joke, voice thick, as he tried to pull away.

“Stay.”

And again, he listened. Stayed in her embrace, until his breathing evened out, until the tension somewhat eased.

“Better?”

He nodded into her shoulder.

She pulled back slightly, keeping him in her arms, looking at his face. “Do you want me to stay with her?”

His eyes widened. “I… I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.”

“It’s…” he looked beyond torn. “It’s two full days, Hyun-juna.”

“What’s my job?” She gently caught his chin as he dipped his head down, made him look at her. “Gyeon-seokya. What’s my job?”

He closed his eyes. “Taking care of us,” he whispered.

She leaned her forehead against his. “Exactly right.”

***

It took a bit of paperwork. Technically speaking, only legal guardians were allowed to accompany minors to their procedures. But the medical staff was well aware of Gyeong-seok’s situation, and a senior nurse helpfully dug up a loophole. It did require Hyun-ju to sign on as Na-yeon’s secondary emergency contact.

You don’t have to do this, Gyeong-seok had wanted to say again. You don’t have to do any of this. You could be anywhere, anywhere but here.

But she’d already signed her name before he could open his mouth.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju wasn’t a stranger to stress. She’d been in the army, after all. She’d been career. Made it through rigorous training, worked her way up, been in active combat long before bullets started flying in the games. She was good in a crisis. Calm under pressure.

And none of it, none of it had been as stresfull as watching Na-yeon cry for her appa as the nurses held her down while they tried for a better vein. The fold of her arm had been poked too many times over, so they had to go for the back of her hand. Which, Na-yeon made sure the entire floor and quite possibly the one below was aware of, hurt. By the time they finally managed it, the needle port fixed so securely it almost looked like she was wearing a mitten made of tape to avoid them having to go through all of that again tomorrow, Hyun-ju’s heart was racing as if she was right back in the games.

The day did not get easier from there.

Hyun-ju felt like a spectator to a battle she could not join. Like she was on lookout for an enemy who had already slipped behind the lines. All she could do was gently wipe Na-yeon’s face when she cried. Hold her hand while they moved her, bed and all. Let her squeeze as hard as she could, which was less than not very, as they hooked her up to the infusion. Carefully scoot onto the bed with her, so Na-yeon could use her as a pillow while the chemo coursed through her little body.

Hyun-ju held her like that, afraid to move and dislodge anything, afraid to add too much pressure to her frail skin, so easily bruised. She lied there in the silence of rhythmic machine beeps, holding Na-yeon’s tiny body, feeling her slip further and further away into painful slumber. She felt so fucking powerless. All that training and all that experience and she could do nothing, nothing but look on, and wait, and wait, and hope. She was hit with such despair, with a sudden need to take everything bad in this world and keep it far, far away from this child. She didn’t know how Gyeong-seok did it. When the nurse checked on them halfway, he wordlessly handed her a tissue, to wipe down her own face.

It took two hours for the chemo bag to be depleted. Na-yeon hadn’t stirred for most of it, her breathing shallow as she slept.

The nurse returned to gently unhook her, to check her vitals. “Do you want us to try and roll her over?” he whispered to Hyun-ju.

“No, let her sleep,” she replied softly. “Or do you need me off the bed?”

The nurse took the bed off the breaks. “Don’t worry about that, we’ve ferried plenty of mothers along.”

Na-yeon stirred as the bed started moving. “She’s not my omma,” she mumbled sleepily.

“What’s that, love?” the nurse gently asked.

Na-yeon settled with a little sigh. “She’s appa’s gonju.”

“Well now.” The nurse winked down at Hyun-ju. “Lucky gonju.”

Hyun-ju was going to need another damn tissue.

They made it as far as the hallway before Na-yeon started throwing up. Hyun-ju panicked only slightly before her first aid training kicked in. She was off the bed and had Na-yeon rolled on her side right as the nurse handed her a receptible. She threw up again when they entered the room, to the point where her little body was trying to heave up nothing, doubling over in obvious pain.
Hyun-ju was gently but firmly nudged aside then as the nurses took over. Administering something to calm her stomach, hooking her up to a bag of fluids. Cleaning her, transferring her back to her own bed.

Hyun-ju was not a violent person. Not usually. But as she stood there to the side, helpless, she wanted to break something. And when Na-yeon whimpered, faintly crying out for her appa, always her appa, she was hit with the angry urge to hunt down the woman who had abandoned them, to make her feel all this pain she had run from, twice over.

Forget military ranks. Gyeong-seok deserved a goddamn medal.

***

Gyeong-seok practically dove for his phone when it finally, finally beeped. The people he had just handed their drawing to looked a little startled, but he didn’t care. He could have been mid-sketch and he still would have checked.

Hyun-ju: We are back, and awake.

She’d added a selfie. Na-yeon, in her bed, looking pale, almost translucent, and wrung out. But she had her eyes open, and she was holding up a little thumb. She was leaning her head against Hyun-ju’s, who was lying on the bed with her.

Gyeong-seok found he could finally breathe properly for the first time since leaving her side.

Gyeong-seok: Someone looks a little cranky.

Hyun-ju: I know. But in my defense, I got puked on.

He laughed and groaned at the same time.

Gyeong-seok: I owe you one. Really.

Hyun-ju: Don’t be absurd. We’ll see you tonight.

He went back to work. For the remainder of the day, his phone would on occasion ping with another selfie. They started out normal enough, but devolved quickly to involve bunny ears, scrunched up faces, gonggi stones balanced on noses, and stuck out tongues.

He finally retaliated with one of his own, showing just his frowning eyes, eyebrows, and his floppy hat.

Hyun-ju: You made us laugh too loud and now the nurses put us in time out.

When he packed up for the day, he felt oddly light.

***

The second day was somehow both better and worse. Better, since it didn’t involve any new needle stabbing, or moving Na-yeon to another room. Worse, in that the chemo had left Na-yeon’s body a literal warzone. She was beyond tired. Beyond cranky. She cried when her appa had to leave, when they hooked her up to her bone marrow transfusion. When she didn’t want Hyun-ju on the bed, when she did want Hyun-ju on the bed, when Hyun-ju didn’t get on the bed fast enough…

Gyeong-seok had warned her about this. That she’d be clingy beyond Velcro. Hyun-ju had come prepared, having opted for comfy clothing, making sure she didn’t drink too much so she could limit having to escape to the bathroom. She wasn’t a stranger to being stuck in hospital beds. It’s just that usually, she didn’t have to share one. Usually she was on her own. When she’d gone in for top surgery, she’d been so loopy coming out of it she’d tried to escape twice. They had to sedate her in the end. And since she hadn’t had anyone to come pick her up, she had to stay put until she was healed enough to move without assistance.

Her phone buzzed with a call. Na-yeon stirred in her arms as she tried to dig it out without moving too much, glancing at the screen. Da-heo. She glanced at Na-yeon, who luckily hadn’t woken, and picked it up.

“What?” she whispered.

“… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are we whispering?” Dae-ho whispered along.

“I’m… babysitting.”

A silent beat. “How can you be babysitting when I have the baby?”

She chuckled. “Multiple kids exist in this world, Dae-hoya. Why did you call?”

“I just wanted to ask, for the party, can we use your fridge for extra drink storage?”

“Sure.” Right. Their party was tomorrow. “Do you need me to pick up any shopping? I could come help and prep?”

“Jun-hee said to tell you that you already did more than enough.”

Hyun-ju thought it over. “Ask Jun-hee if she’ll accept a trade. I’ll come help set up, and then she can help me with something else before everyone gets there.”

***

Gyeong-seok walked into his daughter’s hospital room, and stopped in his tracks.

Na-yeon and Hyun-ju were both asleep on the bed. Na-yeon was lying on her back, sleeping with deep, even breaths. Hyun-ju was curled up on her side, her hand protectively on Na-yeon’s tummy. Na-yeon’s hands rested on top. She had her little fingers curled around Hyun-ju’s thumb.

For a long while, Gyeong-seok simply stood there, basking in this unexpected wave of affection, waiting for it to recede. It almost felt like a crime to disturb them.

He finally lifted a hand to Hyun-ju’s shoulder. Found himself gently brushing a stray hair behind her ear instead.

“Mmm…” she sleepily turned her head, chasing his touch, and the wave of affection resurged as she opened her eyes, found his, and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he whispered back, resisting the sudden need to kiss her. “Reporting for duty.”

“What time is it? I didn’t mean to doze off…” Hyun-ju carefully sat up, stifling a yawn. “Something smells nice.”

He motioned to the take-out bag on his own bed, suddenly second guessing himself. “I picked you up some dinner. I figured, since you’d been stuck here all day...”

Her honest look of surprise almost made him kiss her anyway. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s just take-out,” he mumbled dazedly, telling himself to stop staring at her lips. “Nothing fancy.”

She carefully leveraged herself off the bed, sitting down on the other one to open the bag. “… and you remembered what I got last time? You’re a life saver. Thank you.”

He sat down on the bed as well, opposite her. “You’re thanking me? After literally sitting with my daughter for two whole days?”

“I literally fell asleep on the job,” she joked, opening the container, digging in. Her eyes closed in bliss. “Mm, that’s good.”

She was thanking him for take-out, eaten out of the bag on a hospital bed, after sitting with his daughter for two whole days and getting puked on. That just wouldn’t do at all. “Go out with me on Saturday?” Let me thank you properly.

She didn’t answer right away, focused on her food. “You’re already seeing me tomorrow. Aren’t you going to get tired of me?”

He waited for her to glance up at him. “Never.”

Oh, but he liked it when she got flustered. The way her breath caught a little, eyes shyly dipping down, along with that slight smile… He wanted to get her to do it again. He wanted to find out all the little ways he could get her to smile. He wanted to find out what her favorite foods were, so he could feed her properly, whenever she’d let him. He wanted to draw her, to kiss her, to…

He gripped the sheets of the bed to ground himself. “I was thinking we could go out for a picnic over lunch.”

“Sounds nice. What should I bring?”

“Nothing.”

She frowned as she looked up. “That’s not—”

“Absolutely nothing,” he restated firmly. “You’ve done more than enough.”

The frown stayed, as she looked away to poke at her food. “People keep telling me that.”

His lips quirked upwards. “Have you considered that quite possibly these people are right?”

He chuckled as she scrunched up her face at him, much like in one of those selfies.

“Appa?”

His attention skipped to his daughter. Her eyes were barely open, looking groggily around the room, trying to find him. He quickly moved to her side. “Hey sweetheart, I’m here.” He put a hand to her forehead. Just a shade too warm. “How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” she whined.

“I’ll ask the nurse for some painkillers. Are you hungry?”

She pulled a face. She never was, after suffering through these. He’d have to try and coax some applesauce into her later. “Did Hyun-jugonju leave?”

As if summoned, Hyun-ju appeared at his side. “I’m still here. But now that your appa is back, I should really get going, is that ok?”

Na-yeon nodded. “Will you come back?”

Hyun-ju’s face broke out in a gentle smile. “Of course I will.” And oh, Gyeong-seok almost had to turn away with the softness of it. Almost.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Na-yeon said with a small voice.

Gyeong-seok all but dove for the bell to ring the nurse, to hide his face, to give himself time to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.

“Any time, sweetheart.”

By the time the nurse had come and gone, Hyun-ju had finished her food. Na-yeon, painkiller swiftly working, had immediately slipped back into a deep rest.

“If she’s not well enough on Saturday, just let me know, and we’ll reschedule, ok?” Hyun-ju whispered, pausing inside the door to check if she had all of her things.

If she kept saying things like that, this swell of affection might just never leave. “I will.” He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. Reveled in the way her eyes widened a little as he kissed it. “But if Na-yeon agrees to let me go, it’s a date?”

She chuckled nervously, pulling back her hand. “Only if you’re not tired of me after tomorrow.”

And he couldn’t help himself anymore. Simply had to show her what she was refusing to hear. Her lips parted in slight surprise as he leaned in. “I do believe the word I used for that,” he breathed against her lips. “Is never.” Kissed her. Lingering, insistent. Soft.

She looked adorably flushed when he pulled back. “Seeing as we won’t be able to do this tomorrow…”

“Yes?” A man could get addicted to the many ways she smiled. To the way her voice dipped, the way her hands fisted in his shirt.

“Best give me one more for the road.”

***

Jun-hee stared at the stones in Hyun-ju’s hand. “You need my help… in learning Gonggi.”

“Yes,” Hyun-ju sheepishly said. “I never learned.”

“Neither did I.”

Hyun-ju’s shoulders drooped. “Really?”

“Never played it before in my life.” Jun-hee turned her head. “Dae-hoya! Come here, give me the baby.”

Dae-ho confusedly walked over, handing over said baby. “What are we doing?”

Jun-hee pointed at the gonggi stones.

Dae-ho’s face broke out in a wicked grin. “Excellent.”

***

By the time Gi-hun arrived with Min-su and his things, Hyun-ju was, if not as proficient as Dae-ho, at least clear about the point system and rules. Apparently the tricks to remember were to keep your eyes on the stone you were throwing up, loads of practice, and having four sisters.

“You need to stop throwing them so high, we’re not playing Baekdusan,” Dae-ho was still admonishing her as they carried up Min-su’s things. Gi-hun had been roped in by Jun-hee for a tour of her new place.

Min-su himself hovered anxiously behind, after Hyun-ju had taken the box he’d been carrying right out of his hands. He kept on looking anxious as she showed him his room and the rest of the place.

“And here’s your key.”

“Yes Unnie.”

“Jun-hee and Dae-ho are right next door,” she pointed at their shared wall.

“Yes Unnie.”

“My room is right here,” she pointed at her own door.

“Yes Unnie.”

“And the other bedroom is going to be Gi-hun’s.”

“Yes Unn…” Min-su stuttered to a stop. “… Really?” He jumped as Dae-ho slapped him on the shoulder.

“Really,” Dae-ho grinned. “But shush, he doesn’t know it yet.”

***

The party was… fun.

Living with one foot continuously in a hospital, it was all too easy to lose track of time. Of friends. Having slipped in social isolation years ago, Gyeong-seok was wildly out of practice. The sad reality was that the games, deadly as they were, had given him more social interaction in four days than he’d had in years. He really should have put more effort into keep his fellow survivors close.

He tried to make up for it. He hugged Geum-ja back when she almost pulled him over, agreed heartily that they should see more of each other. He talked to Yon-sik about therapy, admitting he hadn’t gone yet, but that yes, he should make time for self-healing. He let Jun-hee show him around the place while he carried the baby for her, and then gleefully refused to give her back. He tried to talk to Min-su, and failed. Tried to talk to Gi-hun, with only slightly more success.

He did his best to stay away from Hyun-ju.

Not that it wasn’t nice to see her. It was always nice to see her, especially so when she dressed up. But he had made the crucial mistake upon arrival of hugging her in greeting, and the proximity of her body had made him do something slightly stupid. Nothing big, nothing anyone but her could have picked up on. She’s shivered against him as he briefly pressed his nose against her ear, breathily murmuring she looked good enough to eat.

He might pay for it tomorrow.

Once they had all arrived and been offered the tour, as well as food and drink many times over, Jun-hee called them all together in the living room.

“Thank you all for coming.” She looked around the group of people, suddenly shy. “I, eh… if nobody minds, I’d like to say a few words about the games.” The mood of the room shifted markedly, the last of the banter evaporating. But in the deliberate pause Jun-hee left, nobody protested or walked away.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “I joined the games because I was pregnant, and in debt. I joined because I wanted to keep my baby. Give her a proper home. Something I never had. And now, thanks to people present, and people no longer with us… I have exactly that. And it doesn’t feel real.” She sniffled, smiling around the room. “So thank you. I’m alive. She’s alive, because of you. And because of those that didn’t make it.”

In the silence that followed, Gyeong-seok could feel, for a fleeting moment, with that part of him that knew he could never really take it off, the fabric of his tracksuit touching his skin.

Dae-ho, eyes glassy, fixed into nothing, suddenly thrust his drink into the air. “To Jun-bae.”

After half a beat, Gi-hun raised his glass high. “To Jun-bae.” His face was stone, his voice gravel.

One after the other, they followed his lead.

Gyeong-seok looked over at Hyun-ju. She was staring at her glass as if lost in it, as if gravity was pulling at it too heavily for her to raise. So Gyeong-seok raised his. “To Young-mi.”

Next to him, Geum-ja started sobbing. “To Young-mi,” she nodded, holding up her glass. Yon-sik did the same, putting his free arm around his mother.

They all raised their glass. Murmured her name.

Gyeong-seok had to fight to keep his feet planted. To keep from walking over to Hyun-ju, secret dating be damned, and hold her in his arms. None of them would ever truly leave the games. They would carry them around all their lives. And in their wake, their ghosts would follow.

“To Se-mi.”

The room fell silent. As one, they all turned towards Min-su. His arm holding his drink out was shaking. Silent tears were streaming over his face.

“To Se-mi,” Gi-hun affirmed, raising his glass.

“To Se-mi,” they all chorused.

Min-su lowered his trembling glass.

“Hold this,” Geum-ja muttered to her son, handing him her drink, before walking over to the boy. She took his hand, and led him unresisting to the kitchen.

Jun-hee awkwardly started speaking again. “I’m… I know it feels easier sometimes, to only look forward. To try and forget what happened as fast as we can. I thought I had to do it all alone, once. But that’s a lie. None of us have to do it alone.”

Gyeong-seok found himself glancing over at Hyun-ju again. Found her staring into the distance. Found that his sight had gone slightly blurry.

“Anyway!” Jun-hee tied to smile. “To new friends, to better futures, to new roommates.” She gave a decisive nod, then threw a furtive glance to Hyun-ju.

Hyun-ju came back to herself as if miles away. “Right. Yes. What, eh, what Jun-hee is getting at,” she started, throat wobbly, before clearing it. “What Jun-hee and the rest of us would like to say, is that there is safety to be had in numbers. And that in trusting each other, we stand a better chance.”

Gi-hun snorted. “That’s a bit rich, coming from you.”

Dae-ho opened his mouth in protest, but Hyun-ju quickly lifted her hand to shush him. She turned to Gi-hun with a quizzical smile. “I’m not at all sure what you mean.”

Inside Gyeong-seok’s mind, an alarm bell went off.

Gi-hun heard no such warnings. “I’m saying you’re one to talk, after what you pulled last weekend.”

Hyun-ju smiled a strange little smile that added blinking lights to Gyong-seok’s internal alarm. “And what exactly did I pull last weekend?”

Gi-hun, obliviously deaf and blind, blundered on. “You never came home from your date!”

“Hyun-juna went on a date?” Yon-sik whispered to Gyeong-seok. He did his very best to look equally puzzled.

“You had your phone turned off!” Gi-hun kept going. “We didn’t know where you were! Or with whom! Anything could have happened!”

Hyun-ju nodded thoughtfully. “So what you are saying, is that it would be safer if none of us were to live alone, with no way of anyone else knowing what is becoming of them.”

“Exactly!” Gi-hun said, pointing at her in emphasis.

It took him a solid three seconds to realize why Hyun-ju was grinning at him.

He closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “No.”

“I have a whole spare room leftover with your name on it,” Hyun-ju grinned.

“No.”

“You said it yourself. Only you left in the hotel now. You could sell it.”

His face had settled into a stubborn scowl. “No.”

Hyun-ju raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me, and do it for Min-su. We could use the company. And you’d be right next door to this lot.”

“Hyun-ju lives next door?” Gyeong-seok whispered to Yon-sik.

“I don’t know man, nobody tells me anything,” Yon-sik sighed.

“Also,” Dae-ho added, “we hid your car keys and you’re not getting them back until you agree.”

The room burst into laughter, breaking the last of the tension. Gi-hun put his face into his hand. “Alright. Fine.” The laughter turned to cheers. “But!” He pointed a warning finger at Hyun-ju. “If you go out for coffee again, I am going to need a name. And an address. And for Jun-ho to verify any criminal records.”

Hyun-ju dropped her eyes to her drink with a smile, and very pointedly did not glance over at Gyeong-seok. “Not happening.”

***

Tonight was… rough.

Now that Min-su had been safely moved in, and Gi-hun had agreed to follow suit, Hyun-ju finally allowed herself to relax and enjoy the party. But the last two days at the hospital had left her quite drained. It didn’t help that sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, her mind expected to see Young-mi, standing around with the rest of them. If she wanted to avoid ending the evening in a blubbering mess, she was going to have to switch away from alcohol. She went into the kitchen to get herself an iced tea, and promptly forgot what she had walked in for.

Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok had taken over part of the kitchen table. She must have forgotten to put her gonggi stones away, because they were playing. Gyeong-seok was currently working his way through a set, eyes fixed in clear focus on the stones as he caught them in his deft fingers. He had rolled up his sleeves.

Hyun-ju suddenly needed an iced tea for very different reasons.

She hadn’t exactly seen him undressed before. She hadn’t really bothered, the last time. She’d been too impatient. Too greedy. Now, this slight hint of his forearms had her seriously lament her obvious lapse in judgment. She wanted to walk over there and feel those muscles as they worked. She wanted to drag him next door and demand to see the rest of it.

Gyeong-seok threw up one stone, slapped the other four down, and caught it again.

Hyun-ju carefully leveled her voice. “Who’s winning?”

They both looked up, startled to find they had a spectator. “Hyun-juna!” Dae-ho grinned. “Join us!” Across from him, Gyeong-seok’s pleased smile could light the whole room.

She shook her head with a chuckle. “I think I’ll just watch.”

“Suit yourself,” Dae-ho shrugged, turning his attention back to the game.

Gyeong-seok kept his eyes on her a little longer, as if waiting for permission.

Hyun-ju quirked an eyebrow. “Go on then.”

He threw up the stone, picked up the four, caught the stone. His eyes flickered to her before he tossed them all up, catching them on the back of his hand. And again, after repositioning them to prepare for the toss.

She couldn’t help it. He only had himself to blame, really. With his sneaky breathy whispers before, and him flaunting his bare arms for her to see. With a sly smile, she licked her lips. She’d only meant to tease him a little. Catch him off guard.

She hadn’t meant for him to actually twitch and dislodge half of the stones on his hand.

“Dude!” Dae-ho exclaimed. “You just lost your last chance of catching up on me, what the hell?”

Gyeong-seok, suddenly carefully stone faced, tossed the remaining two stones on his hand up, caught them, and slammed them on the table. “Probably drank a little too much,” he grunted. “You win.”

“It’s no fun winning like that,” Dae-ho pouted. “Let’s go again!”

“I’m probably distracting you,” Hyun-ju smirked, walking over to take a drink out of the fridge, catching Gyeong-seok’s warning glance before turning on her heels to walk back out.

She was feeling quite good about herself until, about ten minutes later, while having a pleasant talk with Geum-ja, her phone pinged. She clicked Gyeong-seok’s message unthinking, and stared. He’d sent her a selfie. It was titled down, including only part of his face, lips quirked in half a smile, and his shirt. Which he had undone by three whole buttons.

Hyun-juna!” Geum-ja shouted, jumping away as she spilled more than half her drink over her feet.

While she rushed to apologize and clean up, she spotted the culprit across the room. Perfectly composed, all proper and buttoned back up, looking at her with a devilish little grin.

***

Gyeong-seok left the party earlier than he’d liked. But it was getting late, and he had to get up on time if he wanted to get everything done that he had planned. So he said his goodbyes, promised Jun-hee and Dae-ho he’d visit soon, promised Geum-ja and Yon-sik the same. He shook hands with Gi-hun, thanking him again for his continuous help. Min-su had vanished early.

He hadn’t planned on hugging Hyun-ju goodbye, but she hadn’t given him much of a choice, pulling him in before he could offer her a hand instead. “See you tomorrow,” she’d whispered low against his ear, before abruptly walking off.

It took him three tries before he realized he was shoving his left foot into his right shoe.

***

Hyun-ju couldn’t sleep. It had nothing to do with the change of room, or the fact that her new bed was basically no more than a camping bed. Rather it had everything to do with Gyeong-seok. She turned herself on her back and tried to stop thinking about the damn man’s fingers. And hands. And arms. It wasn’t going very well.

She contemplated the very real possibility that she might not be able to sleep before she took care of certain things.

Getting herself off had always been a bit of a problem. On a very good day, or on a very drunk day, she could simply take hold of the problem, and make it go away eventually. On most days, she tended to overthink things the second she touched… base, resulting in feeling horrible about her own body, with nothing to show for it but even more pent-up frustration. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t found ways to get off throughout the years. Things that did the trick in a pinch, through trial and error. But most of those involved either her fingers, or certain invasive toys, and a great amount of lube. None of which she currently had the patience for.

She turned herself to her side to check the time. After midnight. If she wanted to show up to that picnic even halfway presentable, she needed to fix this now.

Accepting defeat, she dug out her pillow of shame. She kept it separate from her other things, and she always took care to wash it after every use, but she still felt just a bit pitiful, whenever she had to use it. A sad reminder of how broken she was. That she couldn’t even bear to touch herself directly. She rolled herself sideways and pressed it between her legs, breath hitching a little at the realization she was already hard as a rock. Fuck this man, seriously.

Pathetic. Can’t even touch yourself, yet you fantasize about him getting you off.

She pressed her face firmly into her head pillow. She wasn’t going to go there. It didn’t have to matter. She could make him feel good. She’d done it once. She could do it again. She’d gladly drink in his pleasure, bask in the glow that she was the one doing that to him. It could be enough. She could make it be enough.

She tentatively started rolling her hips. Teased her nipples, already pebbled. Conjured the image of him, glancing up at her from the kitchen table. That shock of pure want as she’d teased him… oh… She sped up. Fumbled for her phone, thumbed through to that last selfie. Fixed her panting gaze on that damn smile, those damn three buttons, that sliver of skin… She needed him to kiss her again, she needed her hands on him, to undo those damn buttons. She needed to find out what the rest of him looked like, tasted like. She needed him pinned under her, flushed and wanting, she needed, she needed, she needed…

She choked back his name as the world went white.

She was so going to get back at him for this tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok got up absurdly early considering it was a weekend day without Na-yeon around. He wasn’t meeting Hyun-ju at the park until 10, early enough to beat the picnic crowds, but ever since serving her that pitiful excuse of burnt morning soup, he was determined to do better. So after a quick and structured visit to the morning market, he swiftly got to work.

His mother had insisted on teaching him how to cook properly, and Gyeong-seok had always enjoyed it. He focused on the usual picnic foods, and made mandoo dumplings with two different fillings, gaeran mari, ttaokkboki, fried chicken two ways, jumeok-bap with kimchi… He knew they would end up with so many leftovers, but he wanted to give Hyun-ju options, to find out what she liked. To actually feed her for once, not just hand her some take-out. No kimbap though. Or dosirak. Nothing they’d been fed in the games.

He packed it all neatly into the basket, cleaned up the kitchen, took a quick shower, then prepped a little cool box with drinks. He was out the door with time to spare. Made it to the subway by 9:25.

Gyeong-seok: On my way.

He’d put on some light summer pants and a simple shirt, trying not to overthink it too much. He didn’t own a whole lot of clothes, usually selecting them on basis of comfort, and how long they would last him. He spent the ride reminding himself that she knew money had been tight, it had been tight for all of them, and she wouldn’t hold it against him. That at least it wasn’t a track suit.

He was only halfway when she replied with a picture of the park’s lake. She was early. He hoped that was a good sign.

Using her picture to navigate, it wasn’t too hard to track her down. She’d found them a spot in the shade of a tree. It was a good thing she’d gotten there early too; it was warming up to be a bright and sunny day, and as it was the weekend, many people had had the same idea.

She was staring out across the lake, her back against the tree, knees pulled up to her chest. Today’s dress was something light and breezy and lavender. She’d taken off her sandals. Her toenails matched the dress.

He remembered to breathe. “I’m not late, am I?”

She turned, and he promptly forgot to breathe all over again. She’d done her hair in soft curls, her make-up bringing out her eyes, her lips a deep pink. But it was her smile that did him in, made him weak in the knees. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He realized he was staring. “I, eh… I brought food.”

“I can see that,” she chuckled, making as to stand up.

“No!” He rushed to put everything down, including himself. “Stay put.”

She reached for the basket. “I can help, you know.”

He lifted a stern finger, frowned at her outstretched hand until she retracted it with a chuckle.

He was extremely glad morning-Gyeong-seok had had the foresight to pack everything in a logical sense. Blanket on top, utensils next. He spread out the blanket, and she gracefully scooted over to sit on it, wiping down her dress for blades of grass. The way the fabric fluttered around her bare legs was incredibly distracting, so he firmly focused on unpacking. Parental experience was a handy thing: he hadn’t gone for any dishes with a danger of leaking, and everything had survived the trip perfect. By the time he was done stalling it all out, there was barely any room left on the blanket for him to sit on.

Hyun-ju stared at the spread. “That… is a lot of food.”

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he shrugged. “But I want to find out,” he added, handing her some chopsticks. He almost dropped them with the way she looked at him, so bashfully surprised.

She glanced from one dish to the next, eventually opting for the folded omelet first. His heart skipped a little when she took that first bite, those perfectly pinked lips closing around the chopsticks. She hummed, with a little frown.

Uh oh. “Not good?”

“Where did you get this? This tastes really fresh.” He scoffed, and her eyes shot up at him. “You made this?” She looked back down at the selection. “All of it?”

“I told you I could cook,” he mumbled, not fighting his pleased smile. He liked seeing her impressed.

“This is really good,” she said, pointing at the omelet. She went for a dumpling next, and Gyeong-seok very carefully refrained from fist pumping the air when her eyes all but fluttered shut as she bit into it.

“I couldn’t exactly keep feeding you take-out.” He had taken a dumpling for himself, but it rested forgotten between his chopsticks.

“Don’t forget to eat yourself. I won’t be able to finish all of this.”

“I did a lot of taste testing,” he admitted, but he popped the dumpling in his mouth. Kept his eyes on her as she sampled each dish, one after the other. Catalogued the way her eyes fluttered, her throat moved, made note of which dished were followed by those pleased little hums…

She caught him staring and grinned, a little self-consciously. “Are you studying me?”

He grinned back, cheeks a little heated, but unabashed. “I’m collecting feedback.”

“Planning on cooking for me again?”

If you’ll let me,” he said softly.

She swallowed thickly, averting her eyes. “You, ah, you didn’t bring anything to drink, by any chance?” He pushed the cool box towards her. She rummaged through the selection, lifting out the iced tea she’d been drinking at the party with a raised eyebrow. “You keep a little book on me somewhere?” But her eyes had a pleased sparkle to them. She was teasing.

“Of course I do,” he seriously said.

“Oh?” She opened the bottle, and took a swig. “Care to share what’s in there?”

He took a water for himself, pretended to think it over. “Cho Hyun-ju. Kind. Caring. Serious leadership skills.”

Her lips parted in slight surprise, and she dipped her eyes down.

“Adored by tiny children,” he went on. “Strong. Comforting. Warm.” He could tell he was making her slightly uncomfortable, but she also wasn’t telling him to stop. “Astoundingly good kisser.” Her eyes shot back up at his, and he grinned. “Gorgeous eyes.” He hesitated only slightly, but fuck it, it was the truth. “Beautiful.”

She let out a sharp little huff, and looked away. But she didn’t say stop.

He dropped his voice down to a whisper. “I love what you did to your hair today. And your lips. That color looks good on you. That dress…” his eyes trailed down over her shoulders, her arms. “You might be putting me off sleeves for life.” His voice was going a little wavery, a little rough at the edges. His eyes trailed further down. “And those legs…” He stared at them, suddenly at a loss for words.

She laughed softly, and more than a little breathless. “Did you distract yourself?”

His gaze seemed to be stuck. “A little, yeah.”

“These legs?” She teasingly pulled up her dress a little, to rest above her knee.

He hissed softly, averting his eyes. “If you keep that up, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pull those feet into my lap.” He realized how that sounded. “For a foot massage,” he quickly clarified, feeling his cheeks heat up to a blaze.

Her face did a little complicated thing. She tucked her feet back under her. “As nice as that sounds… Better not out in public.”

Their pleasant little bubble popped. The sounds of the park drifted in again.

He looked around the grassy field. They were far from alone, but the closest next blanket was well out of earshot. “Like… here? Or just… never?”

“It’s too risky.” She looked up at him apologetically. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

He contemplated that. “I suppose kissing is out of the question.”

She dipped her eyes down. Nodded.

“How about holding hands?”

She softly shook her head.

He breathed out through his nose. “That’s wildly unfair.”

“I know,” she whispered at her knees. “I’m sorry.”

He scoffed. “What are you apologizing for? That’s not on you.” His voice softened. “You deserve better.”

She rested her chin on her knees, and quirked her lips. “Like homecooked food made for me by a gorgeous man?”

“At bare minimum.” Gorgeous. She’d called him gorgeous. He tried to keep his damn grin contained, and pointed at the food. “How else am I going to find out what you like?”

She hummed softly, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes fixed on him. “I like you.”

It was his turn to look away then, all flustered.

They didn’t manage to eat all the food. Gyeong-seok didn’t mind. He’d rather eat leftovers all week than have risked her going hungry. He packed everything away as she put her sandals back on, helped him fold the blanket. He almost offered her a hand to get up, but he quickly corrected himself. No touching in public. He was going to have to learn.

They faced each other with a slightly awkward smile, in that moment where a couple would usually lean in to kiss goodbye. “This was nice,” he lamely said, at the exact same time she said; “Your place or mine?”

He gaped at her in startled surprise. “You don’t have to… I didn’t do this so you would…”

“Gyeong-seokya.” He shivered at the way she said his name, and he knew she could tell. Her mouth quirked in a wicked little smile. “I do believe you said I had to taste everything.”

***

They rode the subway in pleasantly charged silence. There wasn’t enough room for them both to sit, so Gyeong-seok had insisted she took the available seat. She didn’t need it. Just as she didn’t need for him to hold the door open to his place and let her go first. She didn’t need him to be a gentleman, the kind that pulled our chairs and fed her homecooked food. But it certainly was nice. To be looked after. To be cared for. She waited in the living room while he put everything away in the kitchen, having been waved away from helping, and contemplated what she did need.

He walked out of the kitchen looking a little self-conscious. “All done.” He stepped in close, smiling. Eyes dipping down to her lips, back up, the question clear in his eyes. And this was nice too. How he always, always asked.

She lifted her hands to his chest. “Kiss me?” Let out a little sigh as he captured her lips. And he was always so careful. Letting her set the pace. Going slow. Giving her room. She took hold of his shirt, turned him towards the couch, and gently pushed. And oh, how she liked the way he willingly went. How his eyes flashed with clear confirmation that yes, he liked her like this too.

She lifted up her dress, slowly, past her knees, kept it there as she lowered herself down on his lap, straddling him. His breath hitched, his hands coming up to hold her. She intercepted them with a light tisk, placed them just above her knees instead. “Was it these you were staring at?” He let out a pleased little groan. She guided his hands, warm palms travelling up, and to the side, dipping under the fabric of her dress, pressed them into her hips.

“Yes,” he sighed, gently squeezing, gazing up at her so soft, so content, she simply had to kiss him again. And again. And again after that.

She placed her hands on his chest, to keep from being pulled in too close. She was, slightly unpleasantly, aware she was already growing hard. If they were to accidentally brush up against each other, it could potentially start her down a spiral, with the added potential of grossing him out. She needed to do this careful. Controlled.

She fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. “Do you know,” she told him, in between kisses, “how downright unfair it was of you to send me those pictures?"

“You started it,” he chuckled against her lips. “You made me lose at gonggi.”

She captured his bottom lip with her teeth, eliciting a delicious groan. He twitched under her, rolling his hips, pulling her in. She flicked her tongue over the spot, soothing, distracting him while she reasserted the distance. “You started it,” she countered. “With that selfie in your pajamas.”

He pulled back with an adorable little frown. “That silly thing?”

“You were posed on your bed,” she breathed into his ear, nipping at the lobe. “Your hair was all tousled. You had two buttons open. Two full buttons. Do you know how often I counted them?”

He leaned back with a pleased little smirk. “Like this?” He undid his top button. Then the next.

Her eyes greedily took in every sliver of skin that revealed itself. “I think I might be remembering it wrong, actually.”

His smirk widened. “More?” A third button. A fourth.

“All of it.” She cursed inwardly at the lowness of her voice. It tended to dip deeper, when she was aroused. By the way he shivered under her, obliged her, it at least didn’t seem to be putting him off. With the last of the button undone, she slid her hands into his shirt, baring his chest, drinking in the sight of him. She’d seen plenty of half-naked men in her life. It was unavoidable when your job had you bunking together. But oh, Gyeong-seok looked so much better than those bodies trained down to nothing but muscle. She skittered her fingertips over his skin, delighting in his warmth, in the way his breath hitched under her touch.

“I… eh…” he nervously licked his lips. “I know I’m not exactly…”

She surged forward to silence him, to chase the temptation of that tongue. “You look good enough to eat.” She kissed him just like that, like she wanted to drink him down, have the taste of him linger on her tongue for the rest of the day, the week, the month. Forever, really. She kept her hands splayed on his chest, and every time she brushed teasing fingers over a nipple, his grip would tighten on her hips.

By the time she pulled back, they were both panting.

She leaned her forehead against his. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Anything.”

“You see…” she pushed past her own nervousness. “I never sucked anyone off before. And I was wondering if you’d let me try.”

She could feel his heartbeat stutter under her palms. “Fuck Hyun-juna… You can’t just say those things.”

Her nervousness melted away. “Is that a yes?”

“Let me kiss you first,” he mumbled, hot faced. “I didn’t even…”

He sat up a little, sliding warm hands up under her dress. Her breath hitched at the feel of his fingers, brushing up, finding the edge of her bra. He stopped there. Looked up at her with a patience she had no idea how he even managed, the way they were both trembling. The way his heart was still going fast.

She could say no. He’d stop. She knew he’d stop.

But she was actually rather proud of her breasts, pleased with the way they made her feel. And alright, yes, tempted beyond reason to find out if he liked them too. To find out what they would feel like, firm in those warm and capable hands. She lifted a slightly shaky hand to her shoulder. Slid one side of the dress down. Then the other. His breath caught at the sight of her bra, and she threw up a silent thank you to morning-Hyun-ju for picking out a nice one. “Unhook for me?” Fuck, her voice sounded bad.

He didn’t seem to notice though, hands moving swiftly to her back, working at the clasp. “I may be...” he mumbled lowly, with a hint of frustration, “slightly out of practice with these…”

She chuckled at that, at the way his tongue came to poke out of his mouth in concentration, at the way his little frown melted away in pleased victory when he finally got it. The chuckle got knocked right out of her once he gently peeled away the bra. At the shock of instant want, so clear on his face.

“Please let me touch you,” he breathed.

She had to work to refind her voice. “Yes.”

She knew she’d made a mistake the moment his hot lips closed around her nipple. She arched into his mouth with a sharp whine, almost sliding flush against him, only barely keeping her distance. She fought to reassert it little by little, but he had his arm fully around her back now, one hand firmly on a breast, and his lips and his tongue and his teeth were doing things that had her mind at risk of leaking out of her ears.... He switched sides, glancing up as he did, looking at her so hungrily, so reverently…

She was beyond hard. It was getting to be painful. She needed to keep her wits about her.

He was lavishing her breasts with such devotion that she contemplated, against all reason, to simply let him live there. Gyeong-seok was obviously skilled at pleasuring women. But most women came equipped with things she didn’t yet have. And while he was expertly succeeding in getting her beyond hot and bothered, experience told her this wouldn’t get her over the edge. That no matter how deeply amazing she felt under his touch, she was absolutely sure she would freeze up if said touch came anywhere near her genitalia. She didn’t want to ruin the mood, for things to go sideways. Didn’t want him frustrated with her inadequacy.

In a somewhat desperate and manipulative move, she scraped her fingernails through his hair. She grabbed hold and, a little too sharply, tugged.

His reaction was as instant as it was beautiful. He sagged into the couch, eyes glazed, lips parted, throat exposed. His hands, suddenly powerless, fell away. She drank in the sight of him. Fuck, but he looked good like that, panting up at her as if she was the most gorgeous thing in the world. She leaned down to kiss him. His hands came up again, and she tightened her fingers in his hair, tisked against his lips, and oh, the way he groaned so fucking prettily, dropped his hands back down so willingly…

She could get used to this power. She could get used to him being hers.

She nipped at his earlobe with a hint of a bite. “I’m going to unbuckle your pants now. Yes?”

He whined, low in his throat.

“Words please.”

“…Yes,” he panted.

She nuzzled his ear. “Good.”

He bucked up at that with a sharp little gasp. How… interesting. She peppered light kisses on his neck, on his lips, as she undid his buckle, his buttons. Pulled back slightly, the better to study his face. Hyun-ju was good at noticing things, but she did like to verify. To make absolutely sure, and then some.

She locked eyes with him. “Now… if I let go of your hair, will you stay put and be good?” She grinned victoriously as he bucked again, helplessly, eyes going glassy.

“Hyun-juna,” he pleaded, her name turning into a needy whine as she tisked again. Oh, but this was fun.

She stole a hungry little kiss. “I’m going to need you to say it, aein.”

“I’ll…” he panted against her lips. “Anything you want. Anything.”

“Then stay.”

She slid off his lap, and onto the floor. Settled herself on her knees in front of him. Made the mistake of looking up at him as she took hold of his pants. The way he stared at her almost knocked her off her balance, made her want to surge back up and burrow in is arms, kiss him, chase their shared pleasure together…

She had to focus. Pants first. She worked those down over his hips, hummed appreciatively when he lifted to accommodate her, reveled in the little hitch of his breath. It helped ground her, to hear him so affected. She could work with that. She could do this. She tossed his pants to the side, turned her attention to his boxers. The shape of him was straining against the fabric. Without giving herself time to overthink it, she mouthed over him, surprised at the firmness of it, the heat. Above her, under her, Gyeong-seok was trembling, his breath coming in delicious little huffs. She peeled off his boxers, and stared at his cock.

It was… strangely different from being faced with her own. It even felt different, to take hold. He bucked up into her hand, and she tightened her fingers around him. “Sorry,” he gasped, settling back with an astounding display of restraint. Spurred on, she pumped her hand over his length, once, twice. And then, firmly telling herself to stop thinking, she lowered her head.

Someone, somewhere, was groaning as she slid him into her mouth. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was surprised to realize it was both of them. It felt… weird, but in a good way. He was warm and firm, fitting nicely on her tongue, filling her mouth in a strangely satisfying way. She took him slow, getting used to the sensation, to the way her lips slid over his length. Found she could knock some very interesting sounds out of him if she slid him almost all the way out, to lap her tongue over his tip. She tested how deep she could take him, and he bucked at the sudden move, pressing himself deep for only a moment, and huh, that did things to her. Maybe next time she’d let him take hold of her hair, fuck her mouth. She’d gladly take whatever way he wanted to be inside of her.

“Gnn… sorry,” he panted, head thrown back, knuckles white with how hard he was gripping the couch.

She didn’t want him to be sorry. She wanted him gasping her name. She wanted to prove to herself that last time hadn’t been a fluke. That she could make him feel good. That she could be enough. She dug her nails into his trembling thighs and partly got her wish; her name tumbled desperately from his lips. She sped up slightly, pulling back far enough each time to flick her tongue against his tip.

“Hyun-juna”, he choked out again, and she could tell it was a warning even before his hand came up to brush her hair. Even now, driven to the edge, his touch was gentle.

She took his hand in hers, clamped it down over the back of her head, and pushed herself as deep as she could. It was almost ridiculous, the wave of victorious relief she felt when he came. She kept herself latched in place until he was all spent, until the last of his tension drained away. It was an odd taste, but not a bad one. When she pulled back, she found it wasn’t a hardship at all, to swallow it down.

She looked up. Drank in the sight of him. The way the whole of him was flushed and softly panting. She did that to him. Her.

She crawled back on the couch next to him, finding herself suddenly shy when his eyes found his focus, locking onto hers. “Good?”

He huffed out a breathy chuckle. “Are you seriously asking?” He reached for her, capturing her lips in a trembly kiss. “What about you?”

She kissed him back, but kept her distance. “What about me?”

His happy afterglow was getting marred by a frown. He reached for her, but he was sluggish, and she wasn’t, on account of being strung taut as a bow. She easily evaded him. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” She plucked her bra from the couch and dashed to the bathroom. She hastily redressed herself, then stuck her wrists under cold water until the tension eased down to manageable.

When she came back, he was pacing around the living room. Fully dressed, still wearing that little frown. He pulled her in for a hug, a kiss, and she let him, but when he tried to slide his hands back to her breasts, she firmly blocked him.

He confusedly pulled away. “Don’t you want…”

She chased his lips. “No.” Kissed him until he shut up. He was still frowning, still unsure. But he listened.

He always did.

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok spent his Sunday in the hospital with Na-yeon. Technically the nurses hadn’t lifted his weekend ban, but when the head nurse spotted him walking in she didn’t scold him, simply raised a warning eyebrow.

“Looking better, Mr. Park. Let’s try and keep it that way, yes?”

He tried to keep the blush out of his smile. The truth of it was, Hyun-ju wasn’t the only cause of the lightness in his step. Well, she was responsible for most of it, but not just because of them dating. Or the things they sometimes got up to during the dating. He’d been single parenting for so long, he’d almost forgotten how heavy the bucket was until she had reached out a hand to help carry it for a few days. And he’d legitimately had fun at the party, even without the pleasant side distraction of his girlfriend.

His cheeks heated. Girlfriend. Him, at forty-three. Landing an amazing woman who was clearly into him. Maybe he wasn’t such a failure after all.

“Appa!”

“Hey sweetheart.” Gyeong-seok smiled at his daughter, scanning her for changes. Was she looking less pale than usual? Less lethargic? Was there a sparkle in her eyes because she was happy to see him, or because her body was running slightly too warm? He gave her a careful kiss on her forehead, stealthily checking her temperature. She felt normal. She looked happy. Still, he took careful hold of his hopes before they could soar too high. It was a constant battle on its own, to keep expectations low so he wouldn’t plummet into despair whenever it all got yanked back down. He held up the basket. “I thought we could do a picnic today.”

Her eyes lit up. “I can go outside?”

“Ah, not today,” he said apologetically, hurrying to spread the blanket over her bed at the sight of her sullen pout. “But we can have it right here?” By the time he’d put all the food out, her mood had already shifted right back. To supplement the leftovers, he’d spent yesterday evening making some of Na-yeon’s favorite desserts. He might have gotten a bit carried away. The basket had been completely full again.

Na-yeon instantly reached for the bukkumi, and he pretended not to notice until she had one of the sweet rice dumplings halfway stuffed into her mouth.

“Real food first, Na-yeona.” But behind his stern façade, hope dared to tentatively rear up again. Ever since her fainting episode, food had been an absolute struggle. If it wasn’t for the fact that she would definitely throw up if he allowed her to stuff her face with sweets, he’d gladly let her finish them all. “Do you want some chicken, or some mandoo?” He somehow managed to get her to eat three whole bites of chicken, and two dumplings.

Chewing on a well-deserved rice cake, Na-yeon looked at the rest of the food with a little frown. “Appa, you made too much. We should have invited more people.”

“Like who?”

She gave it some serious thought. “Hyun-jugonju.”

He chuckled. “Do you like Hyun-jugonju?” Na-yeon nodded decisively. “Yeah,” he smiled, feeling that fickle thing called hope flicker in his chest. “I like her too.”

***

Hyun-ju was spending her Sunday working.

Technically, her list was down to only a very few. Min-su kept striking out at job interviews, and Gi-hun was still refusing to go to therapy, and there were a couple of open-ended bills, one of which being Na-yeon’s medical. All of those were things she couldn’t really do anything about, aside from awaiting further development. But the party had left her feeling… nostalgic wasn’t the right word for it. Pensive, perhaps.

She had taken out a binder. There had been only one binder at first, labeled Squid Game 2024, in the box Jun-ho had given them. On her very first day at the pink hotel, Hyun-ju had sorted out the survivors by number, looking at the rest of them as little as possible. She’d stuffed them back in the box, and neither her or Gi-hun had taken it out since then. But she knew walking away without looking back wasn’t healthy. That it would catch up with you eventually, one way or the other. That they owed it to the dead at least, to not bury them twice.

Still, it was far from easy, to go through them now. Even with those faces she hadn’t known personally, it still twinged unpleasantly, to remember flashes of them in the games. To remember that maybe, just possibly, if things had gone only slightly different, they too could have walked away, if she’d only… She quickly chased the thought out of her head. Leafed on. Face after face after face. Until she encountered hers.

Kim Young-mi. Her heart clenched at the sight of her game picture, already looking scared. At the sterility of her file, reducing her down to numbers. One number. 95. Hyun-ju had looked into her, after, to find out if there was a family that needed money. But the girl had been alone. Even at the end, she’d died alone.

She carefully wiped the drops off the page. Wiped her own face. Took the page out of the binder. Leafed on.

It took a while to find Se-mi. She was all the way at the back. Hyun-ju stared at the girl, trying to remember if she ever noticed her before. There had been so many of them at first, until there suddenly weren’t. She looked vaguely familiar, but nothing more.

Jun-bae was only a few pages further on.

Once she had stuffed the binder back into its box, she had the sudden need to scream. Possibly break something. Of course, it would be heaps healthier to just go to therapy already, but how did one even begin to talk about this? ‘Yes, hi, thank you for seeing me, the problem that I am currently struggling with is that I suffer from immense survivors guilt, on account of having been locked into death games with 455 other people.’ Who could possibly understand that, outside of their own?

She called Gi-hun. “Hey, I have an idea that I’d like to get your opinion on. Could you come over today? Seeing as you technically live here now.”

If she couldn’t bring certain people to therapy, up to and including herself, then perhaps they could all benefit from a sort of group therapy instead.

***

Dae-ho has added Gi-hun to the group chat.

Dae-ho: Are we seriously holding a reunion with all the survivors?

Gi-hun: If you don’t want to go, nobody is making you go.

Gi-hun has left the group chat.

Dae-ho: I didn’t say that.

Dae-ho: And he left again. Typical.

Geum-ja: Is anybody else going? I sort of feel like we owe it to each other, no? But I would also feel better if I knew who else was going to be there.

Gyeong-seok: I’ll go.

Gyeong-seok stared down at his own message. No backing out now. Even though he could absolutely understand everyone’s hesitation. Gyeong-seok hadn’t made any enemies in the games, not personally. But there had been a hard line between X’s and O’s, up at the end. And not every survivor had been from their camp. Definitely not all of them had parted on good terms. Then again, those that hadn’t, probably wouldn’t feel the need to come back.

And Hyun-ju would be going. Seeing as she and Gi-hun were the ones who had set it all up. Maybe after, he could entice her to go back to his place. Entice her to have a little reunion of their own.

Because Gyeong-seok was on a mission. It was a mission that regrettably involved the internet, but he’d work with what he had.

Twice now, Hyun-ju had managed to wring him out entirely, leaving him boneless and fuzzy and wondering where the world had gone. And then she'd refused to let him return the favor. Gyeong-seok might not have bedded anyone in over five years, but he had always prided himself in at least a certain level of skill. In giving, and not just taking. He was going to have to step it up.

He’d always known Hyun-ju was a natural leader. It was a quality of hers that made him more than a little breathless. Even back when she’d first taken command of their rebellion, stern authority followed by that bashful little smile. The added realization that she could make him go wherever she wanted with nothing but a firm hand in his hair… well. Surprising as it was to learn these things about himself, he wasn’t going to complain. Far from it. She obviously enjoyed pinning him down as much as he liked… anyway. He needed to focus.

Gyeong-seok knew there were areas of Hyun-ju’s body that were different to what he was used to in a partner. And alright, yes, he’d always assumed himself straight. But that didn’t mean he would mind trying out new things. Not if it involved her. Not if it would mean making her feel good. But Hyun-ju had been straightforward about that part of herself from the start. She’d drawn a hard line, and that was fair, more than fair. Her body, her limits. But he was frustrated, and feeling more than a little guilty, that both times they’d had sex had ended with him sticky and sated, and her just smiling that cocky smile, assuring him she didn’t need anything in return. For one, he wasn’t stupid. He knew she was lying. Second, he had a deep desire to wipe that grin off her face. But most of all, he wanted, no, he needed to make her feel good too. Prove that he could, even without touching anything she didn’t want touched. He wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

Gyeong-seok: If you need any help concerning this reunion on Saturday, you’ll let me now?

Hyun-ju: Actually, yes. I’m going to need you to wear something without buttons. Preferably something baggy.

Gyeong-seok: No promises.

It was a strange week, devoid as it was of Hyun-ju, after spending almost an entire week seeing her every day. On Monday, he went out for late drinks with Yon-sik, after Na-yeon’s bedtime. On Tuesday, on Yon-sik’s encouragement, he made an appointment with a therapist. On the intake file he ticked off survivors guilt, illness in the family, and after some serious hesitation, abandonment issues.

On Wednesday, he got called into Na-yeon’s doctors office.

“It’s good news,” the doctor smiled, before Gyeong-seok could even sit down. “Her cell count is looking very promising. She’s not out of the woods yet, but if her cancer continues to devolve, we can switch her chemo treatment over to pills.”

Gyeong-seok gaped at the results, at the doctor, and tried desperately not to hope. He failed. “I could take her home?”

“That doesn’t mean her treatment is over,” the doctor warned. “It could be months before the cancer fully leaves her body. But yes. If, at retesting next Wednesday, her numbers continue as they are, she can go home.”

He didn’t tell Na-yeon. Not yet. Not while it could all still come crashing down next week. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it, to crush her hopes along with his.

He tried to tell Hyun-ju. Typed and untyped it a dozen times. But it felt like he was jinxing it, every time he put it into words. In the end, he kept it to himself.

***

Hyun-ju walked around the rented hall where they were holding the reunion, and tried to keep her nerves in check.

There was no current cause for her to be nervous. To keep circling the room as if she was on patrol. Everything was going well. Out of 68 people, less than half so far had shown up. Absolutely none of them were picking a fight. And yet, and yet… there was a tension in the room, a thrumming low in her bones that she was certain others were feeling too. She found herself whirling to the entrance every time another person showed up. As if, against all reason, they would be dressed in pinks and blacks. As if, at any moment, a speaker would crackle to life.

She took a steadying breath as the newcomer turned out to be just another ex-player. Found herself scanning the room anyways, making the tally. Gi-hun, sitting to the side, alone. Dae-ho, hovering at his side, looking slightly nervous. Jun-hee not too far from them, talking to Geum-ja and Yon-sik. Min-su hadn’t wanted to come. Gyeong-seok… she turned her head. Gyeong-seok was… her pulse started racing when she couldn’t find him right away. The sudden spike of panic petered out as soon as she spotted him. He was holding Jun-hee’s baby, talking to some people she didn’t know by name. As if he could feel her eyes on him he looked up, and shot her a bright smile. Her heart both warmed and clenched at the same time. He’d worn something with damn buttons.

“He’d make a great dad.”

She jumped a little. Jun-hee had walked over to her. “What?”

“Gyeong-seok,” Jun-hee smiled. “He’s such a natural with her.”

Well yes, Hyun-ju wanted to say. He’s a parent. Only if Jun-hee didn’t know that, then Gyeong-seok obviously never told her. And since he hadn’t, it wasn’t up to her to say anything. She looked back over to Gyeong-seok. He was still making pleasant conversation, looking a lot more relaxed than she felt. What did he even talk about to people, if it wasn’t about Na-yeon? Was she the only one who knew? A different sort of unpleasantness settled over her. She couldn’t be all he had, surely.

She suddenly realized she’d been ignoring Jun-hee for quite some time now. “Ah, sorry, I’m a bit distracted today…” but when she turned, she found Jun-hee wide eyed and frozen, staring at the entrance.

Hyun-ju followed her gaze and froze right alongside. 333. He was standing at the entrance, looking around the room. She should know his name, she’d seen it plenty on her list, but it kept slipping out of her mind, refused to stick. When the time had come to check in on him, she’d asked Gi-hun to do it for her. It’s not his fault, she told herself, even as her hands balled into fists at her side. There wasn’t enough time. She never would have made it. It’s not his fault. Breathe.

333’s eyes landed on Jun-hee. His face lit up with clear recognition, and a… tentative smile? As Hyun-ju was trying to process this new information with a mind that very definitely wanted to run the other way, the smile slipped. 333 stared, then frantically started scanning the room.

Jun-hee jolted back to life. “I need to go. I need to go now. Where’s the baby?”

“Gyeong-seok still has her. What’s going on?”

But Jun-hee was already moving, bolting towards Gyeong-seok as if she was racing a timer and he was a door. She planted herself in front of the baby, pointing one threatening finger towards 333. “You stay away.”

“Jun-heeya,” 333 said, shocked. He’d started walking towards her, but he slowed down, hesitating.

“I said stay away!”

Behind her, Gyeong-seok was slowly backing away with the baby. He glanced over at Hyun-ju in clear confusion, but she was as lost as he was. Dae-ho rushed to stand protectively next to Jun-hee, Geum-ja and Yong-sik swiftly following suit. Less obvious, but vastly more threatening, Gi-hun had risen from his seat.

Anger flickered over 333 then, and he started forward. “You gave birth and you didn’t even tell me?”

“She’s not yours!” Jun-hee screamed. “You didn’t want me to keep her, so you can’t have her now!”

Oh. Oh. That explained… too much. Hyun-ju’s head was spinning. Things were escalating. Someone really ought to do something. Only, only, if she walked over there now, if she came within swinging distance… The room started to spin. Young-mi’s voice was ringing in her ears. It was becoming hard to breathe.

“Hyun-juna.” Gyeong-seok appeared before her with the baby. “Hold her.” She hesitated. “Now.” She took her. The weight of her in her arms snapped her back to the here, the now. The room stopped spinning. The voices went quiet.

Gyeong-seok strode over to 333 and clasped him on the shoulder, turning him right around. “We’re leaving.”

333 tried to fight him off. “I’m not—”

Gyeong-seok all but hauled him to the exit. “Yes you are. Right now.”

Once they were out of sight, Jun-hee’s tension drained. She collapsed in on herself, Dae-ho hastily grabbing her to safely lower her down to the floor. When Hyun-ju approached, Jun-hee desperately grabbed for her daughter, cradling her close, rocking herself and baby both. The players had all gravitated around her like a protective cocoon.

“Did you know this?” Gi-hun mouthed at Hyun-ju. She mutely shook her head.

She left Jun-hee in the more capable hands of Geum-ja and Dae-ho and walked towards the exit. She felt shamefully relieved to find only Gyeong-seok outside, standing on the sidewalk.

He smiled at her ruefully. “We had a little talk about parenting. I told him to walk it off and ponder his choices.” He pulled a hand through his hair. “I may have been… quite strict.”

Not as strict as I would have been,” she muttered darkly. When he looked at her in surprise, she sighed. “He… during mingle…” she took a shuddering breath. Flinched away as he reached for her. They were out in public. “When they called out six, we made a mistake. Picked a room that was already full. I found us an empty one as quick as I could, but…” Gyeong-seok looked so deeply concerned, she had to look away. He already knew who they’d lost that round, but he'd never pried about the details. “Young-mi fell. I wanted to go get her, but 333 pushed me into the room. Locked the door.”

Gyeong-seok hissed softly. “That bastard.”

She had to be honest. “He was right,” she forced out, still looking away. “She never would have made it. There wasn’t enough time. I would have stepped out, and all six of us would have been dead.”

She could see his hands twitch at his side, stopping himself from reaching for her again. “You did what you could, Hyun-juna. You’re always taking care of us. You are still taking care of us.”

She looked up to meet his eyes, so open, so grateful, and something just… snapped.

Her vision blurred. “I voted O.”

He shouldn’t be looking at her like this. Not this understanding. This soft. “Hyun-juna… one vote wouldn’t have mattered—”

“It would.” Tears were streaming down her face. “I voted O twice. And if I hadn’t… none of it would have… we could have all…” she was choking on the words, choking on the guilt. “So many people—"

She flinched away again as he reached for her, but he wasn’t having it. Pulled her into his arms, tucked her face into his chest, and she shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, they were out in public. But she couldn’t get herself to pull away. For the first time since the games, she cried openly, without restraint, fully sobbed into his chest. She cried until she was all dried up, until her sobs turned into painful dry heaving. Until they left her a trembling mess in his arms.

“Not that I want to ruin the moment,” he whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “But you should really go to therapy.”

“I’ll go if you go,” she croaked out. “Remember?”

“My first appointment is on Tuesday.”

She huffed into his chest. “Well… fuck.” For a while she simply stood there. Unwilling to leave his arms just yet. “I ruined your shirt.”

She could feel him smile into her hair. “I’m a parent to a five-year-old. I’ve had worse.”

She sniffled, and pulled back. They were almost of a height, he barely had two centimeters on her. But she suddenly felt so small.

He looked her over critically. “I think I better take you home. Did you drive here?”

She nodded, wiping ineffectively at her cheeks. “Gi-hun can drive as well. But I can’t ask them all to leave just for me.”

“If you want to go home, I’m taking you home.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Hyun-juna,” he said sternly, slipping into that voice he used with Na-yeon. “I am taking you home. Now, I’ll go get the car keys. Did you bring anything?”

“My purse,” she mumbled.

“I’ll get it. Be back soon. Don’t move.”

She waited for him in the warm evening air. Found she couldn’t stop shivering.

When he came back, he was carrying her purse, as well as the baby carrier. Jun-hee was walking next to him, looking about as bad as Hyun-ju was feeling. Dae-ho was along as well, hovering at her side protectively.

Gyeong-seok held up the car keys. “I’ll drop you all off and get the car back to Gi-hun. He’s staying to keep an eye on things.”

That should be her job. She miserably dropped herself into the passenger seat.

The car ride was utterly silent. Gyeong-seok drove a full 5 kilometers under the speed limit. Every time his hand came down to shift gears, she had to fight the urge to rest her hand on top of his.

Back home, Gyeong-seok insisted on walking them all upstairs. Once Jun-hee slipped inside with the baby, managing a quiet thank you, he stopped Dae-ho at the door. “Tell Jun-hee… not tomorrow, give her a couple of days… Myung-gi wants to meet up and talk. Should she want to accept, I can act as an intermediate. I’m not saying Jun-hee has to meet him,” he said, stone-faced. “He’s the one that walked away. It’s fully up to her.”

When the apartment door closed behind Dae-ho, Gyeong-seok turned to Hyun-ju. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugged. She wanted to ask him inside, burrow in his arms and sleep for three days. But she couldn’t. Shouldn’t. “Thanks for dropping us off.”

“Anytime. And I mean that, alright?” He locked eyes with her. “Any time. You have my number.”

“Alright,” she whispered hoarsely.

He leaned in. Caught himself. Furtively checked the hallway. Gently kissed her on the forehead. “Bed, gonjunim. Some water first.” He sternly held her gaze. “No alcohol.”

She chuckled wetly. “You’re such a dad.”

But she followed his advice. She slept fitfully, in a way that had her waking in a cold sweat, dreams evaporating before they could stick.

She forced herself through the motions of her morning. Shower. Coffee. Breakfast. Sat down at her computer and registered for the damn therapy. She took a screenshot of the confirmation mail and sent it to Gyeong-seok.

Gyeong-seok: Well done. Proud of you.

Found, stupidly, that she could smile again.

She really loved that man.

Chapter Text

Therapy, Gyeong-seok decided, was decidedly worse than getting puked on.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect, really. He’d never needed therapy before. His life had been fairly fortunate across the board, right up until it had suddenly veered off a cliff. And once it had, there hadn’t exactly been any time, and definitely not any leftover money, to even consider his mental health. He sat there now in that strange new office, haltingly stumbling through his backstory to a professional stranger, feeling silly for talking about things he’d always taken for granted. Two loving parents, perhaps not perfect, but always trying, always present. Enough money to never grow hungry, to study what he wanted. A body that didn’t feel like a prison when he looked in the mirror. A body that hadn’t succumbed to illness barely out of the gate.

Talking about Na-yeon next, was hard. He had to drag the words out, his therapist gently prodding to keep him going. It was a frustrating revelation, one that came with quite a bit of guilt. True, he rarely talked about her to anyone outside of doctors and nurses, but it's not like he'd had an overabundance of friends. And he'd sort of assumed he hadn't told any of his new ones out of a misguided sense of jinxing things. His therapist assured him that this was a normal reaction. A protective reflex, an attempt to shelter her from the world. But that it would be good practice to try and open up about her.

Gyeong-seok flatly admitted to the games. Yes, the ones still occasionaly featuring in the news. Yes, the ones with a survival rate of less than one in six. He figured it would be hard enough to talk about, and he didn’t feel like wasting even more energy talking in enigmas.

He didn’t talk about his ex. Found, not too surprisingly, that she was harder to talk about than even the games.

When he walked out of there he felt like he’d been wrung out and put out to dry. Like he’d just chucked a bucket full of energy down the drain. He almost didn’t make another appointment. Almost convinced himself it wasn’t worth the effort, not when he had Na-yeon to take care of. That he’d gotten by until now, and who was he even to complain, having been luckier than most? But in the end, he convinced himself to keep at it. If only to get Hyun-ju to go.

He took out his phone and tapped on the group chat.

Gyeong-seok: Is therapy always this tiring?

Dae-ho: Yes.

Yon-sik: Hey, congrats man! First time’s the hardest.

Dae-ho: It does get better. Find something to reward yourself with after each session. My go to is chocolate.

Both a good idea and a bad idea. The last thing he needed was to lean into the vending machine life again. He picked up a pencil instead. He almost never created anything just for himself anymore. Perhaps he should. If nothing else, he could use the distraction. Tomorrow, Na-yeon’s test results could potentially break him much worse than therapy ever could.

***

Hyun-ju glanced over at her phone with a slight frown. She used to always have it on silent, before the games. Now, it was always on, even at night. She didn’t want to risk missing anyone calling in an emergency. Ever since this morning, it had been buzzing, off and on, as if she was getting messages. But when she went to check, the app wouldn’t give her a preview. After the third time or so, she went through her messages to see what was going on.

It was Gyeong-seok. He’d sent her three messages throughout the morning, only to delete them again right after. As she was watching, three dots appeared, then stopped. She had a sudden pinchy feeling they stopped because he could see she was online.

Hyun-ju: Is your phone acting up, or are you suddenly shy to talk to me?

The three dots Appeared. Stopped. Appeared.

Gyeong-seok: Sorry.

She stared at the single word. Called him. It rang once. Twice. Three times. Four. Just as she was about to hang up, feeling suddenly pushy, he picked up.

“Hi.”

Instant worry shot through her. “What’s wrong?”

“… Why would anything be wrong?”

“You sound like something’s wrong.”

He huffed at that, too soft to make out if it was in surprise or denial. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You never bother me.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted.

Her frown deepened. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

Painful silence on the other end. She bit the inside of her cheek, to keep herself from filling it. It stretched on for so long she half expected the line to suddenly cut off.

“...I’m getting Na-yeon’s test results this evening,” he finally managed.

“Important ones?” His silence was all the confirmation she needed. “Do you want me to come with you?”

This time, his reply was immediate. “I can’t ask you that.”

“You’re not asking, I’m—” she cut herself off, suddenly deeply annoyed. “Actually, you can ask me. I’m your girlfriend.” She softened her voice. “You can ask me anything.”

More silence.

She changed tactics. “How about this. I’ll keep my evening open. If you want me to be there, send me a message, let me know what time. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll stay away. Yes?”

Even more silence.

“I’m going to hang up now,” she said. Added, softly; “Anything, aein. Always.”

She hung up. He didn’t call back. She put her phone to the side. Focused on scrolling through job listings for Min-su.

It took him 72 minutes to send her the time. It took her three seconds to reply.

Hyun-ju: I’ll be there.

***

Gyeong-seok waited for Hyun-ju outside Na-yeon’s room, keeping himself planted against the wall to keep from pacing. He had stepped out way too early, but Na-yeon had picked up on his nervousness, her mood quickly rising to meet his own. Should he need to give her bad news… he tried not to think about it. Well, no, actually. He was vastly failing at not thinking about it.

“Hey.”

He started, looking into Hyun-ju’s face. She looked soft, and so worried. “Hi,” he tried to smile, but he knew it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry for…”

“Stop that,” she murmured, hands raising to his collar. She straightened it, brushing down his shirt. The brief press of her fingers against his skin, her soothing strokes, helped ground him. “Thank you for telling me.” He nodded, tight lipped. She joined him against the wall, and in his silence.

It took another twelve agonizing minutes before they were called into the doctor’s office.

Gyeong-seok sat himself down in the usual chair. How often now had he been here? How many more times would he have to be? How much more of it could he stand? Warm hands came to rest on his shoulders. He breathed a little easier.

The doctor glanced up at Hyun-ju, but didn’t remark on her presence. “Let’s bite the bullet, shall we? Na-yeon can go home.”

Gyeong-seok heard that wrong. He must have heard that wrong. “…What?” Hyun-ju’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

The doctor smiled. “You can take her home, Mr. Park. Her numbers are sufficiently down. We’re switching her over to chemo pills. I drafted you up a schedule. It will have to be strictly enforced, absolutely no deviating, and we will need to see her every three weeks to keep an eye on how things evolve.”

“But I can take her home,” he repeated, stuck on a loop.

“You can take her home.”

He all but catapulted himself out of the chair. He needed to tell Na-yeon. He needed to tell Na-yeon two full seconds ago. He made it halfway through the room before he realized he’d forgotten his fucking manners, turning hastily to bow deeply in thanks. Then he made it all the way to Na-yeon’s room before he realized he’d forgotten Hyun-ju. But then Na-yeon was right there, and when he blurted out the good news, her stunned little face made him forget everything else.

That is, until there came a knock at the door. He cursed, and ran to open it. "I’m so sorry!"

Hyun-ju punched him in the shoulder. “I told you to stop saying that.” But she was smiling. “I’m so happy for you two. You ran out without her medication schedule. Here.” She handed him the papers. “Tell her congrats from me. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Don’t be absurd, woman." He all but hauled her into the room. "Na-yeona, you have a visitor!”

“Hyun-jugonju!” Na-yeon shouted, both arms raised as high as they could go. “I get to go home!”

“You are?” Hyun-ju exclaimed, plonking down on her usual spot on the bed. “That’s amazing!”

Na-yeon instantly grabbed for her hands. “When I get home, will you do my nails?”

Hyun-ju’s smile was as bright as Na-yeon’s. “I’ll bring you all the colors of the rainbow.”

***

Gyeong-seok drafted an email to his work to take the rest of the week off, and it didn’t feel real. He signed the papers stating Na-yeon was free to leave the hospital tomorrow morning, and it didn’t feel real. The only thing that felt real was Na-yeon’s smile. And Hyun-ju, there by his side, as he kissed Na-yeon goodnight, told her he’d make sure her room was ready for her, promised he’d be back super duper early tomorrow.

Hyun-ju walked with him to the exit. When he turned to tell her thank you, to say goodnight, he found different words entirely tumbling out. “Come home with me?”

He kept smiling at random strangers on the subway. He almost got off on the wrong stop. He dropped his keys as he tried to open his apartment door. Hyun-ju picked them up for him, her hands warm as she pressed them back into his.

“What do you want to do first?” she asked, once they were inside. “Get her room ready?”

He shook his head. “I always keep it ready.”

She looked around his apartment, cleaned to perfection, with a slightly puzzled look. “Then why am I here?” She yelped in surprise as he pulled her into his arms.

"You are here,” he breathed against her lips, “so I can thank you.”

Against his own, her lips quirked into a smile. “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies.” He kissed her. She did so, so much. She grounded him. Kept him sane. She saved him, from the games, from his despair, from feeling so downright fucking inadequate… He slipped his tongue into her mouth, his hands into her hair. Kissed her deeply, insistently. He didn’t feel like a failure, not in her arms. And today, he was going to make her see stars.

She was already looking delightfully flushed when he pulled back. Good start. He walked away from her to the couch and sat down. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he tilted his head, making it no secret he was checking her out. “Would you take off your top for me?”

Her eyes widened and she looked away, flustered, but not, he was pleased to note, in a bad way. “Or do you want me to do it for you?” he added teasingly, grinning a little as her gaze snapped back to his.

She stared at him for a while, trying to get a read of the situation. “You first,” she deflected.

He raised an eyebrow. “Done.” He made swift work of his buttons, keeping his eyes on her all the while, smiling softly at the way her eyes trailed down his chest, button by button. He shrugged himself casually out of his shirt and tossed it, shooting her a cocky little grin.

She didn’t entirely return it. Suddenly she looked incredibly shy.

“Hey.” He held out a hand. “Come here.”

She moved slow. Hesitantly. He kept his smile in place, his hand up. When she tentatively put her hand in his, he gently tugged. A mere suggestion. Nothing she couldn't resist. “Sit with me?”

He did his best to hide the breath of relief when she settled in his lap, straddling him much the same as last time. He leaned in careful, to kiss her just the once, before moving his hands to the hem of her top. “Can I take this off, please?” He didn't think she would deny him, but he still liked to ask. He liked how it turned her voice a little breathless, a little bashful as she whispered 'yes'. That, and especially tonight, he had something to work up to.

He undressed her slow. Careful. Shamelessly took in the sight of her bra. She seemed to be partial to lace. What a pleasant coincidence, as he seemed to be partial to seeing her in lace. He leaned in, breathing over a nipple, watched it strain against the fabric. Flicked his gaze up with a teasing smile. All of which, he knew, he was doing just a shade too slow. “May I?”

She huffed with clear impatience, previous shyness evaporated. “Gyeong-seokya If you don't get your mouth on me right now...” her breath hitched as he happily obliged her. He teasingly nipped at her nipples, mouthed at the swell of her breasts through the fabric. He took his sweet, sweet time to explore her with his mouth, to feel her tremble against his lips, until her bra was practically soaked through. Only then did he reach up a hand to move the fabric, just enough to bare her nipples. When he softly blew on them in turn until they grew deliciously pebbled, she squirmed in his lap, arms locked around his shoulders, breath coming in delicious little pants. He paused, gazing up, waiting for her to glance down with clear furstration, before latching his mouth firmly onto her left nipple.

He was rewarded with a beautiful keening sound. She bucked her hips, hard enough to brush up against him. It was the briefest of touches, leaving him with only a fleeting impression of… well, an impression. But her response was immediate. She tensed in his arms, before shoving herself far enough back to almost slip right off his lap.

He held her, but only to keep her from falling. This is where he was going to have to be so, so careful. “Stay,” he murmured, mouthing his way up her chest, her neck. She was tout against him. He placed a careful kiss under her ear. Reajusted his tactic. “How about you sit sideways?” He waited patiently while she considered it, clearly torn. Failed horribly at keeping the relief off his face when she eventually nodded, and readjusted her position.

He all but buried his face between her breasts, inhaling deeply. “Mmm... thank you.” She huffed out an embarrassed chuckle, still tense in his arms. That wouldn't do at all. He glanced up at her. “Do you know how incredibly hot this is, looking up at you?”

She looked away, but there was a hint of a smile, tugging at her lips. “Is that right?”

“You know I suck at lying.” He smiled ruefully. “I'm sorry I even tried.” He nipped at her bra. “I want this off.”

“Is that all?” She smiled, lifting her arms to undo the clasp.

“Well, no,” he admitted, with a teasing glint to his eyes. Waited until the bra had fallen away. “I want to devour you.” A delightful little shock ran through her body. He latched on to her left nipple with some force, fingers clamped tight around her right breast.

“Fuuuck,” she gasped, head thrown back, arching into his mouth. He kept her firmly there, flicked his tongue over her nipple. She bucked in his lap. This time, without any shared pressure, she didn’t flinch away. He switched sides, glancing up at her, willing her to see the hunger in his eyes as he sucked in her other nipple, lapping at it without looking away. Willing her to stop thinking, to simply let him make her feel good. She bucked again, and he groaned in clear appreciation, pressing a hand into that delightful ass. Please stay. Stay right here. Don’t you know that you are perfect? I want to see you let go. I want to see you fall apart.

“I want to kiss you,” she groaned. Her bangs were sticking to her forehead. He lifted up his head to offer up his mouth. She kissed him deeply, hands cupping his jaw, and fuck, he loved it when she held him like that, like he had nowhere to go, because where else would he even want to be? A man could get lost in her. Still, he forced himself to stay aware of her intentions.

He caught her hand right as it was sliding into his hair. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbled, smiling into the kiss to take the sting off.

"No?" She lightly teased the nape of his neck.

He placed a soft kiss on her lips. “As much I love it when you go all bossy on me, maybe not today.”

She pouted. She actually fucking pouted. It was wildly distracting, and he almost didn’t catch her wrists in time as she slid her hands down over his chest to tug at his belt. “No?”

He leaned back a little to regain his composure, to collect his wits about him. There was a plan. He was supposed to stick to the plan. “I want to touch you."

“You’re already touching me,” she smiled. Jumped a little as he ghosted fingers over her ass. He’d done it so careful, but she still flinched away as the implication settled in. “You want to…” She was scanning his face, suddenly wary, as if she was looking for the joke. Her face went carefully blank when she found none. “And here I thought you were straight.” There was a bite to it. A challenge.

He kept his gaze level. “Straight doesn’t have to mean boring. Is it something you would enjoy?”

She looked fully away. Fully flustered.

“Hyun-juna,” he softly challenged. “Will you please answer me?”

She huffed, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder. “It’s hardly relevant, as I didn’t exactly bring any lube.”

He hummed. “Do you prefer water based or oil? I got both.”

She snapped her eyes to him in clear shock. “…Why?”

“Because I didn’t know which you preferred,” he said patiently. She was still staring at him, with a mix of shock and doubt. But, also, he was sure of it, just a hint of something else. He carefully leaned in. “How about…” he kissed her, “I tell you what I want to do…” another kiss, “and then you can tell me no. Or yes.” He allowed his lips to linger. “And we can stop anytime.” Trust me. Please.

“Or,” she countered, dipping her head to nip at his ear. “We can go back to the plan where I take your pants off?”

“Hyun-juna,” he sighed, unlatching her so he could look at her properly. “I want to make you feel good.”

She pinched her eyes shut in clear embarrassment. “I don’t want you to see my… I don't want you to see me.”

“Then I won’t look.” He pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead.

“How?”

“Well," he said, keeping his voice calm. "I am open to suggestions, but I was thinking I would very much like to have you on your hands and knees, right here on this couch, so I can worship that delightful ass.” An undeniable shiver ran through her, and he mentally crossed his fingers.

“...If I say no, can I suck your dick?”

“Not today.”

“Why not?” That ridiculous pout was back.

He kissed it right off her face. “Because you spoil me rotten, gonjunim. And it’s getting to be quite unfair.”

She looked so torn. So vulnerable. “…You really won’t look?”

“I won’t, he promised. “And we can stop whenever you want.”

***

It took quite a lot more kisses, and her sneakily trying to slide a hand into his hair again, and then some more kisses, before she finally, finally, buried her face into his neck, and breathed, almost too low for him to catch; “I don’t suppose you have an old pillow anywhere?”

He dug her out an unused one. Procured some towels too, on her advice. Apparently, lube had a tendency to get everywhere. Waited patiently while she went to the bathroom. Obediently turned around while she got undressed, holding his hands over his eyes for good measure, until she was situated.

“… Okay,” she whispered. "Turn around."

The sight of her took his breath away. She was sitting sideways on the couch on her knees. She had the pillow pressed to her groin, but other than that she was entirely naked. She was also, clearly and deeply, uncomfortable. And that just wouldn’t do.

“What are you doing?” she grit out, as he started taking off his own pants, leaving himself in nothing but his boxers.

“Evening out the odds.” He slowly got on the couch behind her, planting a soft kiss on her shoulder, then another, before sliding his arms around her, hugging her right under her breasts, well above her navel. She was trembling, tense against him. “Hyun-juna.” He pressed his nose into her neck. “Breathe for me.” She let out a shuddering breath. He tightened his arms around her. “If you want me to stop. I’ll stop.” Please don’t ask me to stop. He could practically hear her overthinking things. Simply held her while she did.

“…Okay,” she eventually breathed out. “Okay.”

He kissed her on the shoulder. “On your arms for me then, gonjunim.”

She lowered herself slowly, keeping the pillow firmly in place with one hand, leaning her weight on the other. His hands traveled to her hips as she went, gently squeezed. “Like what you see?” she chuckled, still nervous. She flinched as he brushed one hand between her shoulder blades, trailing down her spine, ghosting over her ass.

“Gorgeous.” He was already sounding rough, wrecked at the sight of her. Even if she called it off right here, right now, she had willingly shown him her back, and he was overwhelmed with it. Driven to prove himself worthy of such trust. He dragged his fingertips over her incredibly distracting backside, bent down to plant equally light kisses in their trail. Her breath hitched, but she stayed. She stayed. Even when he gently nipped her with his teeth. Even when his finger dipped into her cleft, brushing against her opening. “Still good?”

She sounded a little breathy. “Yes.”

“Ready for me to try the lube?”

“Hang, hang on… close your eyes?”

“Done.” He could hear her shift, resettle.

“Ok.” She’d lowered herself on both forearms, the pillow jammed tight between her legs.

“Probably a bit cold,” he warned her, before carefully pressing a lubed up fingertip to her rim.

Her breath hitched. “It’s not… it’s not too bad.” Not the highest of praise, but concerning the situation, he appreciated the blunt honesty.

He was careful. Adding just a hint of pressure, taking his time to go slow, until he could slip in just the very tip of his finger. He’d never done this to anyone before. Never had a partner who was into it, never even thought to try it on himself before last week. But Gyeong-seok had always prided himself in been good with his hands, and he was nothing if not willing to learn. He made it as deep as one digit. Pulled back. Dared to go a little deeper.

“Stop,” she gritted out. He instantly froze. She grunted, twisting to grab his wrist. “Not… don’t stop, just… slow.”

Oh thank fuck. “More lube?”

“Could be.” She shifted self conciously on her knees as he pulled back to recoat his finger. “You can stop whenever you want as well, you know.” Her breath hitched again as he pressed in.

“Not unless you want me to.”

“I’m just saying,” she went on, sounding nervous again, “that if this is outside of your comfort level…”

He pressed in until he felt slight resistance. Pulled back. “So you’re allowed to learn all about sucking me off, but I’m not allowed to learn about this?”

“That’s different,” she huffed out. “Turns out I like sucking dick.”

This time, his finger made it halfway. “Well, maybe it’ll turn out I like this too.”

“It’s alright if you don’t," she muttered.

Gyeong-seok paused. “Hyun-juna. Either tell me to stop because you don’t like it, or let me do this.”

“I’m only saying—” she broke off with a startled gasp. “Did you just slap me?”

“I believe the correct term is spanking.” He pressed back in, slow, but firm. Just a bit further to go, and he’d be all the way in.

She huffed out a breath that he couldn’t entirely read. “Been doing research, have you?”

He smiled. “Never too old to learn.” He slid back out. Back in. Pressed as far as his finger could reach. She let out a soft sigh. He dearly hoped that was a good sign. “Talk to me?”

“Still good.”

“Just good?”

“It’s… nice,” she allowed. “You could probably try adding one.”

He slowly slid his finger back out, feathered it around her rim. “Do you want me to add one?”

“Are we not…” she glanced over her shoulder, and he was almost knocked over by how suddenly shy she looked. Her strength might make him squirm, might make him roll over and take it any way she wanted. But whenever she got like this, it made his heart ache.

“We could work up to that another time, if you want.” She was relaxing, taking his finger with ease now. He slightly crooked his fingertip. “But I wasn’t aiming for that tonight.” Readjusted, tried again. And again, a little frown of concentration forming between his eyebrows.

“What are we aim— ohhhh” she suddenly went all taut, clenching around his finger.

“Found it,” he breathed, beyond relieved. Retreated slightly, before pressing in again, and again, committing the location of her prostate to memory. Diagrams and walkthroughs were one thing, and he was a good student when the subject was something to his interest, (and Hyun-ju was nothing if not to his interest). But he had worried, about fumbling the practical side.

He pulled back, stroking in, out, only lightly brushing the spot this time. Ghosted his free hand over her ass, following the trail with his lips, mouthing over skin as he lightly pressed in again. The sound she made was divine. “Still yes?”

“Yes,” she panted, “yes, damn you.” She looked at him over her shoulder with such angry pleading he couldn’t keep himself from grinning. “Now who’s being cocky,” she breathed, but there was a smile behind it, and fuck, he wanted to kiss her. He couldn’t turn her over, she’d made that very clear, but maybe he could… he pressed close, draping himself over her back. She was tall, but he could just about manage to press his lips into her neck. It was a little messy, just a bit awkward. It was perfect.

He was giving her languid strokes now, only adding pressure every two, three times, enough to keep her guessing. He had more than a euphoric inkling it was driving her wild. “Talk to me?” he breathed into her hair.

“More,” she gasped, arching into him.

“Bossy,” he murmured, mouthing at skin.

“You like me bossy,” she laughed, and oh, there was a tremble in there that could drive a man wild. He pressed in, crooked his finger, and held. She bucked against him with a low whimper, which only deepened when he released the pressure.

“I love the way you sound,” he said, only slightly surprised it came out as a growl. She bucked again, trembling against him, making whiny little noises deep in her throat. If he didn’t focus, she was going to take him right along with her. “Tell me what you need, gonjunim.”

“Hold me,” she panted.

“My hands are kind of occupied,” he grunted. He’d been holding himself up with one arm, to keep from pressing her into the couch with his weight. In hindsight, he should have known she could take it. She dropped herself down, twisting sideways just enough to capture his now free arm around her, pressing his hand against a breast. “Fuck that’s hot,” he gasped, taking a firm hold, giving her his full weight.

She groaned in agreement, bucking with short little pants. He realized she was chasing her pleasure between him and the pillow, and his mind was soaring with it. He matched her rhythm with his finger, mouthed at her bare shoulder. Something in the pitch of her whine as he nipped just there, made him bite down.

Hyun-ju, it delightfully turned out, was a bit of a screamer. She also took quite a while to come back down, twitching under him with breathy little moans that made him want to bite her again and again.

“How was that?” he panted. Tried to disentangle his arm.

“Mmmm.” She refused to give it up. “Stay.”

He chuckled into her shoulder. “I was going to get you a fresh towel.”

He got her two. One to hold out in front of her, so she could clean up in privacy, his eyes closed as a double measure. He wrapped it around her once she was done. Collected the blanket, the towels and the pillow and put on a wash. She was still sitting on the couch when he got back, looking a little dazed, and, wrapped in nothing but afterglow and towel, incredibly hot.

He held out a hand to help her up. “Food, bath? Taxi?”

That snapped her out of it. She laughed, accepting his hand and almost toppling him over with her strength. “A bath would actually be perfect.”

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju checked her phone and grinned at the latest message. Gyeong-seok had steadily been sending her pictures of Na-yeon throughout the day. Na-yeon waving goodbye at the doctors and nurses. Na-yeon outside squinting against the sun, wearing the most adorable strawberry hat. Na-yeon sitting happily on her bed. In the living room with toys absolutely everywhere. Drawing at the table, her face fixed in concentration in a way that looked a lot like her appa’s… In this latest one she was wearing a bunny onesie, tucked under a blanket on the couch, zonked out.

Hyun-ju: Perfect first day home.

“Who are you texting?”

“Nobody,” Hyun-ju automatically defaulted, slipping her phone out of sight. Her, Gi-hun and Min-su were over at Jun-hee and Dae-ho’s for dinner. Ever since moving in, they’ve gotten into the habit of assembling around the table of whoever happened to be cooking that day. Most often it was Jun-hee, Dae-ho or Min-su, who had fallen into a rotation where one would cook, another would prep ingredients, while the third entertained the baby. Gi-hun picked up the groceries. Hyun-ju did the dishes. When she was home. It worked, and it was nice, and it meant Hyun-ju never had to cook. Somewhat less fortunate at the moment, was that it also meant she never ate dinner alone.

She looked up from her food to find them all looking at her. “What?”

“Are you, at any point in time, going to tell us who you are dating?” Jun-hee asked her.

Hyun-ju shrugged non-committedly.

“I don’t like him,” Gi-hun frowned.

“You don’t even know him,” Jun-hee said. Hyun-ju quietly did not correct her.

“Exactly,” Gi-hun frowned on. “He’s an unknown. Unknowns are dangerous.”

“Aeh, let her have fun,” Dae-ho came to her rescue. “She’s going to Thailand soon. It’s not like she can take him along.”

Hyun-ju’s food suddenly lost all taste.

Jun-hee was not letting it go. “We invited Geum-ja, Yon-sik and Gyeong-seok for dinner on Saturday. You could invite your date along?”

“Eh! No outsiders!” Dae-ho complained.

Hyun-ju kept her head down and stabbed at her noodles. This was becoming a problem.

At first, she simply hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about Gyeong-seok because it was all so new. It was nerve wrecking enough to juggle something as scary as dating, without your friends standing to the side making kissy faces. But if she told any of them now, there was a very real possibility their first question was going to be ‘what about Thailand?’ and well. Yeah. Fair.

She cleared off the table. Worked her way through the dishes.

She knew she was only postponing the inevitable. That she was going to have to tell Gyeong-seok eventually. Just… not today. Obviously. He’d only just brought Na-yeon home. Tomorrow didn’t look great either, really. And come to think of it, neither did next week. For starters, who even knew what could happen next week? One day you were in the gutter, the next you were fighting for your life wearing a tracksuit. She was happy. He was happy. And they’d been through so, so much. Couldn’t that be enough, if only for now?

She didn’t risk checking her messages again until she was back in her room.

Gyeong-seok: She refused to go to bed at bedtime, so naturally she conked out ten minutes beforehand. She had a tiring day.

Hyun-ju: What about her appa?

When his next message pinged, she inhaled sharply. He was already tucked into bed. Turned out pajamas were more of a hospital thing. His hair looked delightfully tousled. She chuckled affectionately. Bastard.

***

Having Na-yeon back home was a bit like living in a delightful whirlwind. Gyeong-seok took her grocery shopping to stock up on healthy food, and somehow came home with an equal amount of sweets. He took her out to the playground, and she promptly fell on her face. The house was absolutely littered with crayons. And she absolutely refused to sleep in her bed, claiming she’d spent more than enough time in beds already so now she would just forever sleep on the couch. He didn’t have the heart to fight her on it, simply waited until she fell asleep before carrying her over to her room. But he was beyond strict on her chemo pills; she had to take them for two weeks, then they’d go back in for testing a week after that. She hated taking them, and fought him every morning, but he patiently sat with her until he was sure she wasn’t simply holding out to spit them back out later. He had the list of foods and drinks that she wasn’t allowed to have for risk of countering the medication up on their fridge. And in his wallet. And in his head. They’d been given a chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it.

It wasn’t until Saturday noon that he realized his head had been so full of Na-yeon, that he’d completely forgotten about the dinner invitation. He stared at the notification in his calendar, then up at where his daughter was dancing along to the TV. He didn’t have a babysit.

Of course, he could cancel. But then he wouldn’t get to see Hyun-ju. And his friends. It was occurring to Gyeong-seok, not for the first time, that he wasn’t exactly great at being a friend. Oh sure, he was friendly enough. Always ready with a listening ear or a helping hand. But when it came to opening up, his therapist might just be annoyingly right. None of them even knew him and Hyun-ju were dating. Which, to be fair, was not just his to tell. And not a decision he was going to spring on her the day itself. But he was going to have to start somewhere.

“Na-yeona? Do you want to meet some of appa’s friends tonight?”

She didn’t stop dancing. “Is Hyun-jugonju going to be there?”

Well. That was easy.

***

“Hyun-juna, if you are not going to be part of the solution I am removing you from this kitchen.”

“You can’t kick me out, it’s my kitchen!” But Geum-ja had already steered her into the living room. In order to keep herself from pacing and getting kicked out of there too, Hyun-ju tossed herself down in the couch next to Dae-ho.

Dinner was supposed to have been next doors, but at the very last minute, Jun-hee had decided it would be immensely more practical to have it over at Hyun-ju’s. That way, when it became time to put down the baby, there was less risk of waking her right back up again. Hyun-ju couldn’t exactly be upset about the decision. It made sense, and this wasn’t just her place anymore. But it meant Gyeong-seok was going to see where she lived. She realized she was nervously tapping her foot.

“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Geum-ja announced. “Yon-sikya, give me those eggs and go set the table.”

Dae-ho checked the time. “Gyeong-seok is late.”

Jun-hee held up her phone. “He just texted me, they’re only five minutes out.”

“Ah, ok,” Dae-ho nodded, then frowned. “They? What do you mean, they?”

“He asked me if he could bring someone,” Jun-hee said.

“And you said yes?” Dae-ho gasped in clear affront. “I thought this was game people only?”

“Oh, that’s nice, are you going to uninvite the baby?”

“The baby was actually there!”

Geum-ja worriedly rung her hands, flapping at Yong-sik to add a plate. Hyun-ju rose to help, carrying over an extra chair. “Ayee, if there’s a whole extra person then I didn’t make enough food!”

“Don’t worry about it Geum-ja-shi, Na-yeon doesn’t eat that much,” Hyun-ju said unthinking, placing the chair under the table. She returned to the couch, to find Dae-ho gaping at her. “… what?”

“Who in the hells is Na-yeon?”

Next door, the doorbell dinged.

***

Gyeong-seok turned as the apartment door he wasn’t standing in front of, opened.

“Gyeong-seok-shi! We’re over here!” Jun-hee waved, only then noticing Na-yeon, freezing in surprise.

“Jun-hee-shi.” Gyeong-seok bowed politely, one hand pressing lightly on his daughter’s shoulder so she’d follow his example. “Please meet Na-yeon, my daughter.”

“Nice to meet you,” Na-yeon mumbled at her own shoes, suddenly shy because people. She got that from her appa.

Jun-hee’s face broke out in pure delight. “Oh my gosh! Aren’t you the cutest!” She hurriedly composed herself. “I mean… it’s very nice to meet you Na-yeona. Come on in!”

Gyeong-seok stepped into the little hallway and took off his shoes, bending down to help Na-yeon with hers. He winced a little when he heard Jun-hee cry out in the living room. “Everyone, we have an honorary guest!” But Na-yeon was already looking nervous enough for both of them, so he carefully smoothed out his face, and offered her a hand. “Don’t be scared sweetheart. They’re really nice people. And there’s food.”

Sufficiently bribed, he led Na-yeon into the living room. “Hi everyone,” he grinned at the assembly, feeling horribly self-conscious, and very much rethinking his life’s choice. “Ah… This is Na-yeon. My daughter.”

For a horribly awkward moment, the room went completely quiet. Under all those startled stares, Na-yeon all but crawled behind her appa’s leg, latching on when Gyeong-seok tried to sidestep.

It didn’t exactly help that almost everyone started talking again at the exact same time.

“You have a kid?”

“How come you never brought her along before?”

“No wonder you’re so flippin’ good with babies!”

“Quiet down!” Hyun-ju hollered from her place on the couch, giving all of those who had done their mandatory military service (Gyeong-seok included) the sudden urge to stand to attention. “You’re scaring her.” She sternly glared around. Jumped a little as her glare landed on Dae-ho, who was squinting at her.

“How did you know?” he demanded.

“Eh,” Hyun-ju stammered.

Gyeong-seok quickly stepped in. “Come on Dae-hoya, it’s Hyun-ju. She knows everything about all of us.”

Dae-ho’s squint changed into confused worry. “Everything?”

Hyun-ju winked at him, confusing him even more, before turning a warm smile on Na-yeon. “Hello Na-yeona. Don’t worry, they’re loud, but they don’t bite.”

Gyeong-seok reached for his daughter to try and coax her out again, only to find his leg suddenly empty. Na-yeon darted across the room, and all but threw herself at Hyun-ju.

“Hyun-jugonju!” She crawled on Hyun-ju’s lap, who hastily lifted her the rest of the way so she wouldn’t fall. “Can we do my nails now?”

“Eh…” Hyun-ju glanced up at Gyeong-seok.

“Na-yeona, manners,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, in part to quell a grin that threatened to overtake him. They looked cute together.

“They are a handful at that age, aren’t they,” Geum-ja chuckled. “Mind you, some of them stay handfuls forever.”

“Hey!” Yong-sik protested.

“Appaaa, you never answered,” Na-yeon pouted. She took off her strawberry hat and plonked it on Hyun-ju’s head, who looked so utterly perplexed and out of her depth, that Gyeong-seok fully had to turn away before he did something silly, like maybe take a dozen pictures.

“If it’s alright with Hyun-ju,” he called back. “And after dinner. And if you eat all your vegetables.” He firmly fixed his attention on Jun-hee. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’re very kind, but it’s all been taken care of,” she smiled. “Geum-ja-shi insisted on cooking for us.”

Dae-ho appeared at her side. “Your kid is seriously cute. Why didn’t you ever bring her over before? She seems to be completely in awe with Hyun-ju. And what happened to her hair? Auch!” He rubbed his arm where Jun-hee had slapped him.

“Don’t be rude!” she hissed.

“How is that rude? It was just a question!”

“Who is being rude?” Geum-ja asked, stepping in. “Don’t act like children, you’re setting a bad example!”

Gyeong-seok took a steadying breath. Now was as good a time as any. “Na-yeon lost her hair because of her… illness. I needed the prize money for her treatment.”

Dae-ho looked instantly horrified. Jun-hee mumbled a quiet “I’m so sorry.”

Geum-ja raised her hands to her mouth. “Oh my goodness, the poor thing! Is she alright now? Oh I should wash my hands…” she hurried into the kitchen, doing just that. “Everyone, come wash your hands! Young-sikya, put on a mask, you’re sick!”

“It’s only a cold,” he protested, but he was already trudging over to Geum-ja’s purse, resigned. Geum-ja meanwhile pushed and prodded around the room until she had all of them lined up at the sink.

She returned to Gyeong-seok’s side with determination. “Is there anything else we can do?”

“No,” he defaulted. “Yes,” he quickly corrected. “Actually, there’s a few things she can’t eat on account of her medication…”

“Ah, let’s check!” Geum-ja hauled him into the kitchen. After a thorough verification of all food, he was happy to find his daughter wouldn’t starve. Geum-ja piled a plate high with healthy things, glancing over at Na-yeon who was still happily chattering at a slightly bowled over Hyun-ju. “Where’s her mother?”

Gyeong-seok froze. “No mother. Just us,” he forced out, smiled a little too brightly. Perhaps he’d have to admit to his therapist that this wasn’t just about being protective. Perhaps he was just so very tired of people pitying him too.

“Ah…” Geum-ja patted his arm with a sad smile. “I’m sorry I asked. Let’s eat, yes?”

Dinner quickly confirmed two things. One, that the food was delicious. And two, that they really needed a bigger table for these kinds of events. Most people had given up on chairs entirely, sitting in a circle on the floor, leaving the high table free for the parents and elders, plus Na-yeon.

“I still can’t believe we didn’t know about this delightful kid.” Jun-hee smiled, watching Na-yeon eat.

“Speak for yourself,” Gi-hun said. He was being gruffer than usual, keeping his eyes on his food. But when Na-yeon dropped her chopsticks, he instantly reached to pick them up, and stood to go wash them off at the sink.

Geum-ja shook her head. “You’re all as bad as Hyun-ju. She never tells us anything either. Gyeong-seokya, did you know she’s dating someone?”

Gyeong-seok carefully kept his face in check as he turned a polite inquiring look to Hyun-ju. “Oh? I hope they are treating you well?” He swiftly moved his leg as she tried to kick him under the table.

***

After dinner, in which Na-yeon had eaten absolutely all of her veggies, Hyun-ju got out the nail polish. She had a bit of a selection. It caused Na-yeon to go into choice paralysis, until Hyun-ju suggested they do one color per nail. Hyun-ju settled them both on the couch, and set to work with the utmost concentration. Doing this for someone else was entirely different than putting it on yourself, and Na-yeon’s fingernails were incredibly tiny.

“Who’s the sad girl?” Na-yeon asked.

Hyun-ju glanced up worriedly. Was something wrong with Jun-hee? But no, she was across the room, locked in a serious conversation with Gi-hun. And Na-yeon wasn’t looking at them, but at the wall above the couch. Where Hyun-ju had hung the framed files of their three fallen friends.

“That’s… that’s Young-mi.” She realized her hands were trembling. She put the brush back into the nail polish to keep from spilling. Closed it, reached for the next color. “A friend.”

“Oh.” Na-yeon tilted her head. “Why didn’t you choose happy pictures?”

Hyun-ju almost dropped the bottle. What even was she supposed to say to that? That the girl was dead? That she had never truly known her happy?

“How are things going over here?” Gyeong-seok appeared at their side. He was smiling, pretending he was simply checking in. But Hyun-ju knew his tells by now. The way his eyes lingered on hers with an unspoken question. The way his fingers flexed at his side as he carefully did not reach for her. The way his face went carefully stony when he noticed the three frames on the wall.

“Appa look!” Na-yeon proudly showed off her finished hand.

“That’s very pretty,” Gyeong-seok smiled. “Now sit quietly and don’t distract Hyun-ju, or you’ll end up looking like you’ve been experimenting with markers again.” Na-yeon giggled, and did her very best to sit still. Gyeong-seok kissed her on the head before walking back to the kitchen to resume his dishwashing duties.

Somehow, Hyun-ju managed to get Na-yeon’s nails done without coloring out of the lines. And when Na-yeon got antsy about sitting still while they dried, Hyun-ju carefully took her little hands and blew on them for her. After which Na-yeon cheerfully refused to relinquish Hyun-ju’s hand. Chattering happily about everything from huge pink bunnies that hand out lollipops, to her room that her appa had dared to tidy while she was away and now she couldn’t find anything, Hyun-ju did her best to keep up. Until, mid-sentence, Na-yeon’s eyes suddenly drooped, and she slumped into Hyun-ju’s side.

Hyun-ju froze. “Eh… Gyeong-seokya!?”

He looked up from the dishes in instant alarm, then equally instantly relaxed. “She’s alright,” he chuckled. “Just tired. It’s well past her bedtime, and she really can fall asleep anywhere. Just lower her down on the couch.”

But Hyun-ju couldn’t bear to disturb her. And the kid weighed hardly anything at all. It wasn’t a burden at all, to simply let her lie there.

Noticing her trapped like this, Geum-ja ambled over to keep her company. For a while they talked pleasantly about how Yon-sik was doing so much better, how Geum-ja was volunteering in a local program that offered child-care to struggling parents. Geum-ja was mid-story about how Yon-sik was applying some of his therapy lessons at his new work, when Na-yeon let out a little whimper in her sleep. Hyun-ju reacted unthinking, wrapping an arm around her, and Na-yeon snuggled into her side, settling back down with a sigh.

Geum-ja’s eyes went soft. “Kids look good on you.”

Hyun-ju scoffed. It was a painful little sound; it hurt all the way coming up, as well as deep, deep down. Na-yeon wasn’t hers. No kid would ever be hers.

“Hyun-juna…” Geum-ja gently took hold of her hand. “You think blood matters in things like this? My good for nothing late husband walked out on a son and never looked back. Jun-hee’s child is growing up without an appa but with plenty of family around. It doesn’t matter,” she firmly repeated, patting Hyun-ju’s hand for emphasis.

Hyun-ju huffed. “Biological... difficulties aside. You sort of need parents around of your own, to learn the parenting from.”

Geum-ja briefly considered it, before waving it away. “Tish. Jun-heeya seems to do just fine.” She hesitated. “And as far as having parents… well.” She warmly squeezed Hyun-ju’s hand. “You have at least one.”

Snuggled into Hyun-ju’s side, Na-yeon seemed so small. So vulnerable. With her massive hand locked in Geum-ja’s, Hyun-ju felt very much the same.

***

Gyeong-seok carried a deeply sleeping Na-yeon from his car up to the apartment. Hyun-ju had remained stuck under her up until it had been time for them to leave. And even then, Hyun-ju had been the one to gently lift her off the couch, to hand her over to Gyeong-seok across the hallway threshold. Gyeong-seok had stood there, holding his daughter while Hyun-ju carefully slipped her little feet into her shoes, teetering half a breath away from shattering their secrecy.

He loved her. Which wasn’t exactly new information. It shouldn't keep hitting him this hard. But every time he saw Na-yeon and Hyun-ju together, his love for them both elevated into something that was too big for him to completely take in, to properly name. And he was a little scared to try.

Once Na-yeon was tucked into bed, he settled down for a bit of sketching. He’d set a goal for himself to draw at least a little each day. He was finding it pleasantly grounding, giving him a purpose outside of work. Of being a parent. To have something that was just for him. He usually allowed his mind to wander during these. To let them guide his fingers in wherever they wanted to go, until he could see the edge of an outline and go from there. A lot of the times lately, they tended to lead him to Hyun-ju. But sometimes, like tonight, his mind steered his pencil elsewhere. Led him down a darker path. Back to an island, all bright colors and hard angles, all dust and blood and panic and running out of time. He usually turned away from those, whenever he would realize. Tonight, he found himself leaning into it.

He was alive. Na-yeon was home, closer to healthy than she’d been in three years. And he had Hyun-ju.

If he had all that, he could stand to owe a little to the dead.

Chapter Text

Life slipped into a semblance of… not normality. Normal for Gyeong-seok had been hospitals and anxiety and threadbare clothes for so long he still found himself budgeting his groceries down to the last won, still found himself constantly checking Na-yeon’s temperature, scrutinizing her levels of energy, over-analyzing every tantrum. And when the constant wariness did recede, in those treasured moments where Na-yeon would happily come bouncing back from the parade to his workstation, or when she’d be sitting at home, humming over a drawing, the fear would come rolling in. This sudden surge, clawing up his throat, hooking into his mind, reminding him that he could lose this all over again. That something, somewhere, was going to go horribly wrong. Na-yeon’s test results could still turn. He could get fired from his job. She could get hit by a car crossing the road.

You are never going to have full control, his therapist had told him. Not as a person, but especially not as a parent. When these moments of despair hit, try and focus on what you do have.

And Gyeong-seok had so much now. Even beyond a happy daughter lighting up his home. He had friends again, and there was a simple grounding joy to be found in spending time with them. Going out for drinks with Yon-sik. Putting himself to work in Geum-ja’s kitchen, cheerfully ignoring her mock protests. Even when Jun-hee took him up on his offer, and he accompanied her to mediate a conversation with Myung-gi, tense as that whole thing was. Myung-gi had haltingly, shamefully admitted that he couldn’t see himself as a parent, that he was scared he would ruin all three of their lives if he were to try. But that he also didn’t want to be the kind of person to ditch and run away. He surprised Gyeong-seok with his honesty. Jun-hee surprised him in turn by staying utterly calm and composed. In the end, they came to a mutual understanding that Myung-gi would contribute financially. That he would be added to the list of emergency contacts, albeit way down as a last resort. That if Jun-hee’s daughter ever grew up wanting to know who he was, the door would be left open. It was more than Gyeong-seok had been left with. One more door than Na-yeon had.

“You handled that really well,” Gyeong-seok told Jun-hee as he drove her back home. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Gyeong-seok-shi,” she said, overly polite as usual.

“Enough of that,” he gently scolded her. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“You are my elder by twenty years.”

Gyeong-seok hummed, braking at a stoplight. He had been raised to adhere to the importance of age. To respect his elders, their experience. But the thing was, the older you got, the more you realized that sometimes, the only experience elders had was the experience of doubled down stupidity. “You’re an adult, same as me. You’re a parent. And as a parent, you’re going to run into moments where you feel completely stupid, and useless. But here’s the secret.” He shot her a quick smile, before returning his attention to the road. “That’s all of us. We’re all just pretending to know what we’re doing. And it doesn’t make you any less to ask for help in those moments, to ask for advice. We’re all just people, trying our best.”

She mulled it over in silence. “In that case… Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“When Na-yeon lost her omma...”

In the span of Jun-hee’s hesitation, Gyeong-seok’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, steeling himself. Don’t ask me about her. She shut the door in my face and chucked the key at my head and I can forgive her for running out on me but never for running out on Na-yeon. Don’t ask me.

“Did you ever… consider finding her a new one? Like, you owed it to her?”

He took a moment to recollect himself. To let the confused mix of emotions settle. “I think,” he said, voice a little rough. “I think that if you find someone, somewhere down the line, then that would be great. But your future relationships shouldn’t start out as a… job interview.” He grimaced at his word choice, but she giggled. “What I mean is, of course it’s going to factor into your decisions on any future partners. But don’t just go looking for an appa. You’re a parent, yes, but that’s not all you are. It’s the first thing and the last thing that we are,” he conceded, and she giggled again. “But not all. And families come in many different shapes and sizes,” he went on. “Your kid has grandparents. She has an uncle.”

“Three uncles,” Jun-hee smiled. “Min-su is very attached to her. And she has you. Plus one aunt.”

Gyeong-seok’s tension eased at the mere idea of Hyun-ju. “One incredibly badass aunt.” He smiled warmly. “With a family like that, we needs an appa? You’re far from alone.”

She mulled it over in silence. Shot him a shy smile. “Neither are you, Gyeong-seokya.”

The last of his tension melted away. “I know. But thank you for reminding me. I need it sometimes.”

He dropped her off.

“See you Friday,” Jun-hee said, getting out of the car.

“What, again?”

“Every Friday,” she smiled. “And you better bring Na-yeon, or people will riot. And thank you, truly, for today.”

“Any time.” After years of feeling so fucking useless, it was nice to be helpful again. To have a community. He kept an eye out until Jun-hee was safely inside the building. Looked up at their floor, where Dae-ho was probably putting the baby to bed, where he knew Hyun-ju was helping Min-su prep for another interview tomorrow.

Hyun-ju, who somehow, astoundingly, was also his. Whenever the nightmares struck, or a sudden loud sound at the park made his heart rate skyrocket, whenever he felt like he was back on that boat, far removed from solid ground, stuck between a bad past and an unknown future, he closed his eyes and reminded himself that all he had to do was reach out, and she’d be there. Always.

***

Hyun-ju’s list had dwindled down to the point where she finally had to start on the very last name: her own. She’d already started going to therapy. Depending on the session, she would either end up in the gym hitting things or running on the treadmill until her muscles screamed, or she’d end up going over to Gyeong-seok’s to wordlessly hide in his arms. She didn’t cry. Couldn’t seem to manage it since the sidewalk incident. She sort of wished she could, because it felt like some things were clogged up in a place that couldn’t start healing until she occasionally flushed it out.

She started up the process of getting a Thai visa. Looked at houses. Started up online consultations with a renowned doctor at the clinic of her choice. There would have to be at least a couple consultations on site, but they could already discuss and settle on the exact extend of the surgeries she wanted. Build a rapport. And all of it gave her a pleasant wave of euphoria, right up until her phone would ping with a message from Gyeong-seok, and that wave ran aground against rocky guilt.

Every day, it became harder and harder to tell him. And every day, there were less things left on her list to do aside from booking her dates.

She considered briefly to ask their friends for advice. But none of them even knew they were dating, and she couldn’t exactly tell them without telling him that she was going to tell them they were dating, that wouldn’t be fair at all, at which point at least one of them would mention Thailand to him before she could.

She practiced it sometimes. Late at night in bed. So you know that surgery I risked my life for? I'm going to have to leave the country for that, and I'll be gone for four and a half months. Would you be alright with pressing pause on all this, or is that going to be a dealbreaker?

She knew it was going to be at least four and a half months, because she'd made a spreadsheet. If she considered two weeks before surgery to get all her pre-consultations in, plus settle into housing, then a solid week in the hospital after surgery. Three weeks primary recovery. Aftercare consultations, running the length of three more months. She couldn’t risk flying back and forth between those; if any complications arose, no hospital here would know how to handle it. Four and a half months, at the least, before she could come back. Which, coming back came with a whole different set of difficulties she didn’t even want to think about yet: flying post-op under her old gender marker was only the start of that list.

She couldn’t expect him to wait around for her. She couldn’t even guarantee what kind of person she would be once she returned.

When her doctor suggested a possible surgery date, one month from now, she found she couldn’t sign off on it. Not yet. That it simply wouldn’t be fair not to tell him first.

***

Next Friday found Gyeong-seok and Na-yeon being invited inside with an overly ceremonial bow.

“Park Na-yeona,” Dae-ho said, solemnly holding out a closed hand. “I have been told by the great and powerful Hyun-ju that you have a serious set of skills.” He glanced around as if they were sharing a secret, before slowly opening his fist. Na-yeon, curiosity stronger than shyness, leaned in from behind her appa’s leg. Her eyes lit up at the reveal of gonggi stones.

There was no more shyness after that. Not around Dae-ho with his mad gonggi skills, who Na-yeon instantly started calling samchon. Not around Jun-hee, whose baby Na-yeon found incredibly fascinating and prompted a dozen questions. Not around Geum-ja who continuously fed her healthy sweets. Not even around Yon-sik, who she treated as a fellow kid as soon as she found out he was Geum-ja’s son. Gyeong-seok did have a tiny heart attack when Na-yeon pulled on Gi-hun’s sleeve to tell him she was thirsty, with that insistent urgency inherent in kids her age. But Gi-hun simply dug out a plastic cup from somewhere, filled it up halfway with water, and handed it over along with a rare smile.

Na-yeon’s happy chatter even lured out Min-su, who had been suspiciously absent last week. He was instantly pulled into conversation by Hyun-ju, probably to ensure he didn’t immediately vanish into his room again. She would glance up at Gyeong-seok periodically, or at Na-yeon, brief flickers to reassert where they were in the room. He wondered fondly if she even realized she was doing it.

“I was hoping if I could ask your opinion on something,” he quietly asked Geum-ja, while everyone else was distracted. He led her into the hallway, the happy sounds of the gathering dimming only slightly. “It might be a little jarring,” he felt the need to warn her, as he pulled his sketch book from his bag, flipping to the right page. “It’s… game related.”

He hadn’t known Young-mi very well. He’d only been there for those last fleeting moments of her life. But he had caught snippets of her joy, and he’d done his best to capture them here. Still, the way Geum-ja stilled, the way the air went thick, he felt like perhaps he overstepped. “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling the sketch book back. “I shouldn’t have…”

“You draw beautifully.” The smile she lifted up at him is bright, and a little watery.

Gyeong-seok found his throat suddenly tight with shared grief. “Is there anything that looks off? That I can improve on? You knew her better than I did.”

Greum-ja shook her head, gently touched the page. “What made you do this?”

Gyeong-seok shrugged. Turned to the drawing of Jun-bae, feeling horribly self-conscious. Like he was overstepping into friendships, into trauma that wasn’t his. “I don’t know if they would even like them. I just thought… all they have left is their files. But they weren’t just numbers. Not to their friends.” He turned to the last page. There were only mere sketches here. “I don’t really know anything about Se-mi. I tried, but…” Geum-ja suddenly took a firm hold of his arms, and he fell silent.

“Bless you, Gyeong-seokya. The world is better for having you in it.” She smiled, blinking away unshed tears. “Don’t move, yes? I’ll be right back.” He waited, halfway convinced she’d gone to get Hyun-ju, and suddenly wondering if he should have shown her first. If he should have asked. But she came back with Jun-hee instead.

Something steely settled over the young woman as she studied Jun-bae’s drawing. “His nose is wrong,” she finally said.

Gyeong-seok pulled out his pencil case. “Tell me.”

They settled on the couch. Jun-hee whispered corrections as Gyeong-seok worked in silence, shaping Jun-bae’s sketch closer to the memory. When a shadow fell on his drawing, he didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

“His hair was never that tidy,” Gi-hun gruffed.

Gyeong-seok tweaked, listened, tweaked again, until his work was met with nothing but silence. Until he looked up and found that all of them, except for Geum-ja who had lured Na-yeon into the kitchen, had drifted closer. Dae-ho was quietly crying. Gi-hun looked like he was a breath away from murder. Hyun-ju… Gyeong-seok didn’t trust himself to look at Hyun-ju. He kept his eyes on Gi-hun, awaiting approval. When Gi-hun nodded, curtly, painfully, Gyeong-seok carefully tore the page out of his sketchbook, and handed it to him.

He flipped to Young-mi’s page. Picked up eraser and pencil. And forced himself to look up at Hyun-ju.

She was staring at the drawing with a look he had seen on her only ever once before. She'd been wearing a track suit. Standing on a platform. Staring off into nothing. Waiting for things to end. He was a breath away from reaching for her, secrecy be damned, to drag her to safety, lock her away from all this pain—

Yon-sik did it for him. He stepped in, wrapped an arm around Hyun-ju’s shoulders. Jun-hee got up to make room for them. She went to Dae-ho and wrapped him in her arms, where he instantly started to shake with badly contained sobs.

Yon-sik guided Hyun-ju to sit down along with him. “The hair’s a bit too short,” he stuttered, gently squeezing Hyun-ju’s shoulder. “Don’t you think?” She took a shuddering breath. Nodded without looking away.

Gyeong-seok set to work. Focused on keeping his fingers from trembling. Looked up at Hyun-ju for final confirmation to find her crying, in complete silence, tears riveting down her cheeks. Feeling suddenly and deeply horrible, for doing this to her without warning, for not even being able to comfort her, he handed her the drawing.

She flinched back. Wiped at her own face. “I’d only smudge it,” she muttered, getting up, removing herself to the bathroom.

Yon-sik took it in her stead. Stood up to carefully put it somewhere safe, leaving Gyeong-seok alone on the couch.

The place didn’t stay empty for long. Min-su, who had been hovering at the edge of the group, sat down with a rare determination on his face. Gyeong-seok shot him an apologetic look as he showed him his poor attempts at Min-su. “I’m afraid I never really got a good look.”

Min-su stared at the sketches. “These are all wrong.”

Gyeong-seok winced. “I know. Sorry.”

Min-su reached for Gyeong-seok’s pencils. There was something in the way he selected one, the way he rested it between his fingers, that made Gyeong-seok wordlessly hand over his sketch book.

Min-su flipped to a blank page. And started drawing.

***

“But I don’t want to go yet,” Na-yeon complained. She was willfully keeping her feet stiff, but Gyeong-seok had experience on his side, he’d been wrangling shoes on her ever since she was a flailing baby.

“We’ll be back next week,” he promised. “People are tired.”

“I’m not tired,” she pouted, crossing her little arms.

“Well, I am.” It wasn’t even a lie. Those drawings had absolutely drained him. He straightened himself up from the floor. “There. Now put your coat on please.”

“I want to say goodbye to Hyun-jugonju!”

“You already have your shoes on Na-yeona,” he sighed. “And Hyun-ju is resting…”

Hyun-ju appeared at the hallway threshold. She looked beyond tired, and the smile she offered Na-yeon didn’t reach her eyes, but she hugged Na-yeon tight. “Night little gonju,” Hyun-ju whispered. “I’ll see you soon.” Her eyes flickered up to Gyeong-seok, red from crying, and he so sorely wished he could take tonight back. Wished he could pull her into his arms. That he could have at least talked to her, before they left.

Na-yeon complained about having to leave almost the entire ride home. She was asleep before he was parked. He carried her up, tucked her in, trudged over to his own bed. Jolted a little when his phone rang. It was Hyun-ju.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, as soon as he picked up.

“For what?” She sounded rough, tired as all hells.

He grimaced. “For making you feel like shit?”

She went quiet on the line for a long time. “You make me feel,” she whispered. “Which, fuck you, really.” She chuckled wetly at his shocked intake of air. He never heard her swear before. “But according to my therapist, feeling things is a good thing.”

Gyeong-seok breathed out. “I’m still sorry for not asking you first.”

“I would have said no.” Gyeong-seok winced. “But I would have been wrong.”

He sat down heavily on his bed. “Then I’m glad I… made you sad?” He allowed himself a little smile when she chuckled again. “And I’m glad you called. But you should go to bed, gonjunim.”

“You too. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He went to end the call.

“…Gyeong-seokya?”

He put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah?”

“…… Nothing. Just… thank you.”

***

Hyun-ju: Can I come over tonight, or is that difficult with Na-yeon there?

Gyeong-seok: You can always come over? Na-yeon doesn’t bite. Well, not anymore. She had a phase.

Hyun-ju: It would be late though. I wouldn’t want to wake her up.

Gyeong-seok: One tiny good thing from having a kid in and out of hospitals; once she is out, you could wheel an ambulance through the hallway. Everything ok?

A squeal from Na-yeon made him look up, hurriedly put his phone down. They were having dinner, and she had somehow managed to get her noodles all over the table instead of inside her mouth. He gently scolded her to be more careful, helped her clean up, then tipped half of his own portion in her plate.

When he picked his phone back up, he promptly dropped his own chopsticks.

“Appa, you’re splattering!”

Hyun-ju: We need to talk.

Gyeong-seok only ever dated a handful of people. But never in the history of dating was a sentence like that ever followed by something good. As in, this was bad.

Gyeong-seok: About what?

“Appa, you should clean that up!”

Gyeong-seok stared at the three little dots.

Hyun-ju: Eight o’clock alright?

Face to face level of bad. Fuck.

He didn’t even attempt not to panic. Skipped straight past into doom spiraling. This was it. The other shoe. Hyun-ju would show up and break up with him and there would be nothing he could say or do to change her mind. He would lose her not only as a girlfriend but also as a friend, all their friend gatherings would turn stilted and weird, he’d have to explain to Na-yeon why Hyun-ju didn’t want to see her anymore…

“Appa!” Na-yeon screamed, not used to being ignored.

“What?” he snapped right back.

Na-yeon stared at him with wide eyed shock, and started crying.

It took a whole lot of soothing and apologizing to calm her down. Their noodles turned cold. He warmed hers back up and put his away. He’d lost his appetite.

***

Hyun-ju sent him a message three minutes before eight that she was standing in front of his door, their usual routine when she came over after Na-yeon went to bed to avoid ringing the bell. He made himself wait five whole seconds before yanking the door open, to hide the fact that he’d been standing there at least fifteen minutes. He knew there was no hiding much else. Knew he was a total mess, clear as fucking day. He never had been good at hiding his emotions.

She looked painfully beautiful. Steady. Resolved. Then her eyes locked on him, and something flickered, something fled, before he could attempt to name it. She wordlessly stepped inside, took off her shoes. Maybe she’d take pity on him. Let him down gently. Maybe they could at least still be friends. He’d take it. He’d take having her in his life over any alternative.

She put her shoes away. Straightened back up. Put her hands on his chest. Guided him back until he was up against the wall. And kissed him. “You want to talk here,” she breathed against his lips, ghosting her fingers down over his stomach, “or in the bedroom?”

He sagged against the wall with a groan that had nothing to do with arousal. “Can you not do that to a man?”

“Do what?”

“You said you wanted to talk. I thought…” he shook his head, smiling shyly, feeling suddenly so silly. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”

She went quiet. Pulled him suddenly in her arms. “Why would I ever break up with you?” There was something… off, to the way she said it. Something about the emphasis that gave him pause. Until those fingers ghosted even further down, palmed him firmly through his pants. He cursed lowly. “You didn’t answer. Wall, or bed?”

“Bed,” he choked out. Already soaring high, mostly on currents of sheer relief.

She chuckled. “Next question. Do you still have that pillow?”

Chapter Text

Getting to the bedroom proved difficult. Mostly because Hyun-ju kept pushing him into walls to kiss him senseless, which considerably slowed them down, and made it seriously hard for Gyeong-seok to remember where he even put the damn bedroom in this place where he’d been living for three years. By the time they finally stumbled into the correct room, he was out of breath.

“Tired?” she teased, nipping at his lower lip.

“Have pity on me,” he grinned, beyond happy he was currently being ravaged instead of currently being dumped. “I’m an old man.”

She nudged him towards the bed. “Better sit down then, oppa.”

Fuck, that was hot, even though he knew she was only mocking him. It didn’t matter. She could call him anything, anything she liked. He stepped back until legs found the bed. Sat down. Gazed up at her in open adoration.

She tilted her head with a pensive little smile, studying him. “Take it off.”

Her voice, low, authoritative, drew a shudder down his spine. “What exactly?”

“All of it.”

His hands rose, along with a deep desire to make it look good for her. He went slow. Button by button, flicking up his gaze in between. Left his shirt like that, undone, as he pulled his belt loose. Worked open his pants, brushing his fingers over his very clear bulge. Pulled his hands away to slowly shrug out of his shirt.

When you are quite done teasing,” she murmured, more than slightly affected.

He raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Can’t really take these off, can I? You said I had to sit down.” He chuckled at the flicker of annoyance on her face. Swallowed as it made way for something steely.

“Stand up then.” She smiled as he listened, briefly studying his face. “Good,” she whispered.

Gyeong-seok choked down a surprised whine. Why did that simple word do it for him so thoroughly? And was this a new thing, or had he simply never known this about himself?

She stepped in close, hands raising to his hips. “How about I help you a little bit?” She slid his pants down, and, he gulped as he realized, she was taking herself along as she went. She lightly tapped one foot for him to lift, then the other, freeing his pants, tossing them to the side. She settled on her knees, face level with his groin, and pointedly looked up. “I did say all of it.” He did it carefully, as to not hit her in the face with… well. She grinned at his freed cock almost wolfishly, her mouth less than a breath away.

And then she pulled back. “Sit for me?”

He sat down heavily. “What?” He chuckled at her slightly dumbfounded look, finding himself somewhat breathless.

“You’re very…” she was obviously working to find a word that wouldn’t offend him. Not that Gyeong-seok thought there was a word that would. “… trusting,” she settled on.

He smiled at her warmly. “You’re easy to trust.”

She looked away, flustered. Tried to recompose herself. “Did you just call me easy?” she attempted to joke.

“I’ll call you whatever you like,” he said honestly.

“Smooth bastard,” she grumbled, but he could tell she was pleased. She stood up. Resettled herself. Focused.

Turnabout was fair play, Gyeong-seok knew, but it was a special kind of torture, when she pulled up that dress to reveal she was wearing knee high socks. When she placed her foot in between his legs, the better to slide said sock down over her calf. He couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help the way his cock twitched. She smiled a wicked little smile, removed her foot, placed the other one just that little bit closer to his groin. Pulled down her sock achingly slow. Strong fingers over strong calves. Her toenails matched her nails. Deep blue.

Her hand came up to lift his chin. “Breathe,” she murmured, chuckling as he gulped in a shuddering breath. She backed away, fingers brushing over his cheek as they went, and he swayed after, already cold without her touch.

She straightened up, flushed like him, albeit much more composed. She brushed her dress off one shoulder. Then the other. He trailed its trajectory as it slipped down over her chest, to where it pooled around her waist. She hesitated. “Eyes up?”

He obediently raised them to her face. She smiled. Pushed the dress over her hips, dropping it down to her feet. She was down to her underwear, and his heart clenched with it, this open sign of trust.

“You can look a little bit lower than that,” she teased, reaching up to unhook her bra. Letting it fall away. He was distantly aware it hit the floor, but his eyes were stuck. Her breathy little chuckle made him realize he’d licked his lips. “Hungry, are we?”

“’s not my fault, he breathed. “Have you seen yourself?” And oh, the way that her eyes fluttered down, not uncertain, but pleased, it made his heart soar.

“Where did you put the pillow?” she asked.

“Closet. Left side.”

She got it out. Held it gingerly in front of her, looking suddenly shy. But when she locked eyes with him something shifted. The steel was back. “Would you move up against the headboard for me?” she whispered.

He did just that. Reminded himself to breathe, as she got on the bed with him. Tightened his hands in the sheets when she carefully straddled him, the pillow in between. She shifted closer with slow and deliberate calculation, repositioning until they were both pressing flush into the pillow, her chest pressed into his, her face buried in his neck.

“Oh,” she sighed, shuddering against him. “That feels nice.” She chuckled at his strangled huff. “You alright?”

He nodded wordlessly, afraid to move, to somehow mess this up.

“You can touch me, you know.” He unclamped his hands, placed them carefully on her lower back. It wasn’t until she pulled back to look at him, that he realized she looked about as nervous as he felt. But only for a moment. And then she was kissing him. Slowly, deeply, rolling her hips against their shared pillow with abortive little jolts, sending shocks of pleasure through his cock. It was maddening, and amazing, and he wanted to touch her so fucking badly. But he was still wary, didn’t want to cross any lines. Until she pulled back, smiling in clear challenge. “Are you just going to sit there and take it, oppa?”

He surged up, claiming her lips. She gasped into his mouth. When his hands slid down to firmly clamp down on her ass, pulling her in, grinding up, he was rewarded with a gorgeous little sound. So he did it again. And again. Her mouth went slack against his, head lolling back, and he mouthed greedily at her neck. “Better?”

“Harder.” And oh, she sounded so fucking pretty when she told him exactly what she wanted. He kept her right there, bucking into her steady and strong, dipping down to latch on to a nipple with a hint of teeth. He was delightfully shocked when she bit out a strangled string of curse words he hadn’t heard since his enlistment.

“Maybe tomorrow, if you ask nicely,” he huffed between her breasts. Surged up to chase that delicious whine that escaped her throat. “Let me look at you,” he growled, slowing slightly, the better to control his movements. To find out exactly how she liked it. He stared at her hungrily, taking in every twitch, every sound. Driving her slowly to the edge just like that. She was close. He could tell from her thighs, tightening against his. The way her eyes were going glassy. From how she was slowly but surely failing to keep from making noises that skittered down across his spine, trailing fire. She lifted up a desperate hand, biting down to muffle the sounds, and that just wouldn’t fucking do. He gently tugged it away. “Let me hear you gonjunim. Please.”

He was rewarded with a shocked little intake of breath. And then she locked up in his arms, momentarily frozen right on the edge, before she tumbled over, before she let go. He rode her through it, gazing up in gratified wonder. She sounded gorgeous. She was divine.

She collapsed into him without much warning. He was rock hard, and those little pants she was huffing into his neck were not making it any less painful, but he held her until her breathing leveled out.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” she groaned against his skin. He decided he liked swearing Hyun-ju. She was hot. Mind you, most of her was hot. She got off his lap, shakily, sagging down next to him with the pillow pressed to her groin. “Did you…”

“Not yet,” he gritted, giving up all pretense of patience and reaching for his freed cock. Her reaction was almost casual as she slapped his hand away to take a firm hold herself. He made a pitiful keening sound, but he couldn’t be bothered with shame, too far gone as he bucked up into her hand. She hummed, considering, before pressing her lower leg across his thighs, keeping him down. She towered over him, setting a brutal pace, eyes shining with clear and steel intent. Turnabout is fair play, he thought dazedly, before stars went off behind his eyes, pinned under her gaze and body both.

When he finally caught his breath again, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “Still alive, old man?”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Good talk.”

She snorted. “We should get up.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled, reaching for her. She rolled away from him, getting out of bed. “Where are you going?” he pouted.

“Cleaning up.” She hesitated. “Ah… going home.”

He pushed up on his arms with a frown. “You can stay over, you know. It’s late.”

“I don’t… That might not be the best…” She was doing that thing where she hunched her shoulders, made herself smaller.

“Hyun-juna,” he sighed. He hated seeing her this uncertain, especially when it was in such stark contrast with mere moments ago. “Please just tell me what it is, so we can work it out.”

She looked up so suddenly stricken, before dropping her gaze to the floor, that he almost got out of bed to go to her. But he knew by now that it would be better if he just waited. Gave her the space.

It took her a fair while. “I don’t want you to… brush up against anything during the night,” she finally gritted out at the floor.

…Ah. “Then you’ll take the bed,” he said easily, getting up. “And I’ll take the couch.”

“But it’s your bed,” she began, clearly feeling awkward.

He walked over to shush her with a kiss. “It’s also my couch,” he smiled. “I’ve fallen asleep on it before. Heaps better than a hospital bed. Don’t worry about me.” He kissed her again, for emphasis. “Stay?”

She thought about it. “What time does Na-yeon wake up?”

“I get up at six. I always have to wake her up.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure to be out of here before then.”

He almost told her that far as he was concerned, she could stay forever. But that would be pushy, probably. Just a little. So instead he showed her the bathroom, and dug her out a new toothbrush. Cleaned himself up, got ready for bed, and kissed her goodnight.

He was spreading a blanket over the couch when he realized he forgot something. The door to the bedroom was closed. He knocked, waited until she opened it. “Hey, sorry, could you hand me a pillow…” He paused, checking her out. “Is that my shirt?”

“Not at this moment, no,” she grinned.

“Looks good on you.” He knew he sounded rough. Slightly undone. He didn’t care. He’d sleep on the couch every night if it meant he could have her here, wearing his things.

***

It got easier, after that. For her to tell him what she liked. What she thought might work. What she was willing to try.

Gyeong-seok spent a solid portion of the next evening staring down at her delicious ass, working her open with lubed up fingers until he could easily fit in three, until she was panting in a way that made his cock leak without even being touched. Enthusiastic encouragements aside, it was still terrifying, because this was new, and this was Hyun-ju, who deserved the absolute best, far better than some boring straight guy who could mess everything up. So he took it slow, so slow, pushing into her with gritted restraint, until he finally bottomed out. Kept on taking it slow until she all but snarled at him that “she wasn’t going to fucking break oppa, move.” He ended up flush on top of her, one arm clinging around her shoulders, chasing her delicious demands of more, more, huffing sounds into her neck he was sure he never made before in his life. He almost failed at making her come first.

Not all their experimenting turned out equally well. There was a particularly embarrassing attempt where Hyun-ju had enticed him to fuck her mouth, sitting pretty on her knees wearing nothing but a skirt and those damned knee-high socks. And they found out he simply couldn’t do it. No matter how deliciously she hummed around his cock, or how hard she dug her nails into his ass, as soon as he as much as tightened his grip on her hair or thrust more than halfway in her mouth, he was pulling back and stuttering apologies. It wasn’t that he always needed her to take charge, he protested, rather flushed and hot and bothered. He just hated the idea of ever hurting her, even accidentally.

They found plenty of ways that did work, though. Gyeong-seok was somewhat on a mission to keep finding more. To learn everything he was allowed to, and also to have her forget that she was attempting to be quiet. He’d gotten her to scream his name quite a few times now, and on one memorable occasion, she’d even stuttered out a desperate please. He’d been enthusiastically trying to recreate that, so far without success, but Gyeong-seok always did like a challenge.

He always gave her the bed, after. She slept in it more often now than she did her own.

***

Hyun-ju was in the games again.

It wasn’t unusual for them to haunt her dreams. Most times it would be only snippets. The cheerfulness of the announcer, grating without real words. The sense of spinning around in an orange room. Scared eyes, begging through a slotted door.

This one was different. Clearer. She could feel the ground under her feet, could hear the wailing of her friends behind her. Could see the triangle guard, bright pink, hard angles on black, rushing her. But she knew how this went. She’d been here before. She tackled him to the floor, wrenched the rifle away, was up on one knee as he reached out for her.

The mask vanished from Gyeong-seok’s face right as she pulled the trigger.

***

Gyeong-seok woke with a start, his senses going from slumber to full alert. He was off the couch before he fully registered what his ears had picked up on. Hyun-ju was whimpering in her sleep. He truly didn’t mind taking the couch. Just because they were sleeping together didn’t mean they had to actually sleep together. He gave Hyun-ju her privacy gladly, that full control in those moments of vulnerability that came with sleeping and waking. This was the first time he ever barged into the bedroom without knocking. She was still asleep, tangled in sheets and nightmare both.

“Hyun-juna.” He crawled onto the bed, taking hold of her shoulders. “It’s a dream. Wake up.”

Her eyes flew open with a gasp. She stared at him, unseeing, before crashing back into herself. The moment she realized where she was, who he was, she started crying.

“It’s alright,” he began, right as she crushed him down to her. Clawed at him, as if she wanted to crawl under his skin. He let her, clinging to her in return. “It’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok, we made it out…” She buried her face into his neck, silent sobs wrecking her body. He kept on talking to her, soothing and low, heavy on top of her.

It took a while for him to realize she was hard.

…Ah. He considered his options. On one hand, she was distraught, and there was no chance in hell he was abandoning her now. On the other hand, once she realized what was happening, she’d probably punt him right out of the bed. Easily too. He carefully eased some of his weight off.

She tensed in his arms.

“It’s ok,” he repeated, still moving slowly, only to be immediately pulled back, flush into her.

“Stay,” she said. Commanded, really.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered thickly. In pulling him back down, she’d slotted his leg in between hers. Her hardness was now undeniable. He tried to lie very, very still. She was trembling in his arms. The sobbing had subsided to soft sniffles.

“You died,” she whispered into his hair.

“I didn’t,” he whispered back, not entirely understanding, but understanding enough. “I’m here, see?” He wanted to lift himself up, to look at her, show her his face, but she clung to him firmly, refusing even a breath of space to come between them. So he stayed where he was, resigned to his immediate fate. She pressed her lips into his neck, wet from her tears.

And then she pressed up against his leg.

He bit down a gasp. Told himself that it was an involuntary flex. That it was perfectly normal for that particular anatomy to wake up with a boner and that it didn’t mean a damn thing. Told himself to not. Fucking. Move.

Slowly, tentatively, she rolled her hips.

“Hyun-juna,” he gritted. Not in a ‘please stop’ way, but in a ‘are you aware of what you are doing’ way. She paused. Slid a hand into his hair. And then she did it again. And again.

And again.

Gyeong-seok held on for dear life, and let her.

She quickly worked herself up to a brutal pace, frantic little pants tickling his neck. Fuck, but this was hot. Was this what it was like for her, when she did this to him? When he started moving along in tandem, the whimper she let out was blissfully different from the one that had woken him first.

“I’m right here,” he groaned, his lips finding her ear. “Right here. You have me…”

He could feel every inch of her as she came. The way she seized up, locked and trembling, before crashing down, bucking up erratic and wild. He dazedly took it all in, the feel of her, the sound of her, this honest display of neediness and trust… He held her through it, until she went slack in his arms. Held her until her breathing evened out. Only then did he pull back enough to look at her.

She tightened her arms. “Stay.”

He nuzzled her nose with his. “I need to clean you up, gonjunim.” She suddenly looked so utterly shy. He kissed her before he could see it shift into embarrassment. “Feel better?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare,” he breathed, kissing her again. showing her he was here, with her, in any way she’d have him. “Whatever you need. Always.”

She studied his face, uncertain. So he kissed her again, for emphasis. She escaped his lips with a wet chuckle. “In that case… could I maybe get some water?”

He softly kissed her forehead, willing the truth of his words to stick there, to seep into her mind. “Whatever you need.”

The next time she stayed over, she tied him to the bed, kissed him all over until she had him begging for mercy, then sucked his soul out through his dick. She untied him after, but only in the physical sense. She never allowed him to sleep on the couch again.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t a vast revelation, in the end. It didn’t shake her, didn’t blindsight her. Rather it was as if this knowledge had always been there, on the horizon, like a far-off mountain. And she’d just been ignoring it, let herself unfocus, have it vanish into the landscape. Until she found herself suddenly standing at the foot of it. Found it blocking out the sky.

They didn’t date anymore. Not truly. Not that they didn’t spend quality time together. But dating would imply they went outside. It was easier behind closed doors, she told him, where she didn’t have to think about how things looked. About not walking too close, not reaching for a hand. She had failed at the not-hand-holding exactly once. But that was because Na-yeon, in true 5-year-old fashion, didn’t take no for an answer. It had made Hyun-ju beyond nervous, beyond on guard, beyond painfully happy, to have this perfectly amazing child bounce happily beside her, holding her and her appa’s hand both. When the three of them finally made it to the playground, Hyun-ju had sat on the bench as far away from Gyeong-seok as she could without falling off.

Gyeong-seok didn’t like it. But he didn’t take it personal. Grumbled about the unfairness of the world with a tightness to his mouth and badly hidden anger in his eyes. But he followed her lead.

She went over for dinner a lot. He would cook, while Na-yeon would happily show Hyun-ju around her room, or drag her into this game, or this activity. Hyun-ju was getting better at gonggi, but her drawings downright sucked. All her animals had stick legs. Na-yeon would frown at these poor attempts at art with a pensive tilt to her head, and she would always find something good to say about them, before telling her what she could maybe do different next time. In those moments, she looked and sounded exactly like her appa. So much of Na-yeon was so much like him. Her eye for art. That stubborn little way her jaw set when things didn’t go her way. The easy way in which she loved Hyun-ju.

It warmed Hyun-ju down to her bones, this seemingly effortless, domestic kind of love. How easily she fit at their table, how Gyeong-seok would incorporate her favorite foods into his dinner plans, how Na-yeon wouldn’t stop chattering to her and had to be reminded by her appa to eat between the words.

After, Gyeong-seok would put Na-yeon to bed. Hyun-ju would do the dishes. And then they would talk. About good things. About bad things, shared or otherwise. About everything except the one thing Hyun-ju should be talking to him about. They would cuddle up and watch TV. Sometimes she would snuggle into his chest and drift off, only waking when he gently pressed a kiss to her forehead as the credits rolled. Sometimes he would pull her feet into his lap and massage her feet, her calves, chuckling softly at her little sounds of bliss. Sometimes they would end up in bed. Or up against a wall. Most of the times, she stayed over.

One night, Na-yeon had demanded Hyun-ju read her a bedtime story instead of appa, and Hyun-ju had done her best. Mostly she had done her best to hide the panic at Na-yeon’s demands at doing the voices. But the kid had been perfectly happy with her poor attempts. Probably because Hyun-ju failed at resisting her constant demands of just one more page. When she finally walked back in the living room, there had been candles, and music, and Gyeong-seok who had moved the furniture, who was holding out a hand with a shy little grin, asking if she maybe wanted to go dancing tonight. She found he wasn’t a bad dancer at all. Found she fit into his arms perfect.

They made it work.

“Are you and appa dating?”

Hyun-ju’s head snapped up from her breakfast. She’d been getting careless. It wasn’t the first time Hyun-ju had forgotten to set her alarm, found herself sitting sheepishly at the breakfast table. Usually, Na-yeon was just happy to find her there to handily do her nails and her hair, happy to accept the explanation that she missed the last subway home.

“Eh…” Hyun-ju looked away from Na-yeon’s questioning face to turn helplessly to Gyeong-seok.

He looked decidedly calmer than she felt. “What makes you think that, Na-yeona?”

“Well, she’s always visiting,” Na-yeon said. “And she has a toothbrush in the bathroom. And you look at each other funny.”

“Oh?” Gyeong-seok raised an eyebrow. Glanced at Hyun-ju, who had completely forgotten how words worked. “Funny how?”

“Happy funny,” Na-yeon nodded decisively. “You don’t frown as much anymore, appa. And you’re taller.”

His mouth quirked up. “I’m taller?”

“You stoop a lot. It’s bad for your back,” she scolded him. “But you don’t do it when Hyun-jugongju is here.”

Gyeong-seok regarded his daughter fondly. Hyun-ju swallowed thickly when he turned that fondness her way. He gave it a beat, pausing to give her time to deny if she wanted to. “Yes, we are.”

Hyun-ju finally unstuck her tongue. “Is that ok with you, Na-yeona?”

“Hmm…” Na-yeon gave it some serious thought. “Only if you promise not to fight. Can you do my nails?”

Hyun-ju’s head reeled with the swiftness of the topic change. “…I just did them yesterday.”

She pouted cutely. “But this color doesn’t match my dress.”

Gyeong-seok glanced at the time. “Might be faster to change the dress then, sweetheart. We have to get going.”

“I’m still eating!”

“Stop talking so much and eat faster then.”

They were out the door before Hyun-ju, Gyeong-seok hollering that she didn’t have to rush, just lock up, she knew the code. The apartment was suddenly quiet without them. Hyun-ju cleared off the breakfast table, did the dishes even though he had told her to just leave it. Did her make up, hands slightly trembly as she realized he hadn’t rushed her because he knew she hated leaving the house without.

Tomorrow, she lied to her reflection. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

It wasn’t a vast revelation, in the end. But it was her own fault. For wanting just one more day. Just one more kiss. Just one more evening, dozing off in his arms. Just one more smile that crinkled his eyes. She didn’t know when exactly she’d slipped past the point of no return. Just that she had.

It had been like any other evening, first. Gyeong-seok finalizing dinner, Hyun-ju setting the table. Na-yeon was playing around with the TV remote. When the sudden gunshots blasted out of the sound system, both ex-players reacted instantly, instinctively. They dove for cover. Hyun-ju, trained and used to combat, snapped out of it before she was well and good on the floor. Gyeong-seok didn’t. Hyun-ju shouted at Na-yeon to turn it off now, reached for Gyeong-seok, who was cowering against the kitchen cabinets, eyes gone glassy, breath coming way too fast. And it wasn’t a vast revelation. it didn’t slam into her, it didn’t knock her down. Rather it slipped between her ribs, going right for the heart. And once it was in there, it lodged into place. Like a badge, only velcroed on the inside.

She couldn’t leave him.

She took his hands. Made him look at her, made him breathe with her, like they had before, back at the games, down in the underworld. Before she’d even known his name. She breathed in, and held, out, and held, and knew she couldn’t let him go. Knew, as Na-yeon stood crying at the edge of the kitchen at the sight of her appa, that she couldn’t abandon them. That she could never, ever, selfishly vote for herself again.

It became the hard truth she woke up with. Walked through the day with, took to bed. It kept her awake long after Gyeong-seok drifted off to sleep, warm against her back (stifling), arms secure around her (trapped). That she wasn't going anywhere.

But it’s enough, she lied to herself. More than enough. More than she deserved.

***

Something was wrong with Hyun-ju.

Gyeong-seok thought she was just having a bad day, at first. A bad couple of days. A week. Maybe due to a bad therapy session. Or a bad dream. Something she didn’t want to talk about, even though she could talk to him about anything. It was something she clearly wanted to work through herself. So he gave her space, gave her time. Tried to wait it out.

Something was wrong with Hyun-ju, and it was getting worse.

Her smile no longer reached her eyes. She would snap at him, randomly, unpredictably. Once, they were talking about Na-yeon’s upcoming test rounds, about hospitals in general, and he asked her when her surgeries were going to be. She’d leveled him with such a cold stare he still shivered days later just thinking about it. Getting impatient, are we? Getting tired of workarounds in bed? He’d fallen over himself to stutter a defense, but she’d kept on staring at him with those unsettling cold eyes until he gave up, backed off.

The next time he leaned in for a kiss, he found that same coldness in her lips, and he finally asked her outright what was wrong. And she’d smiled, but not fully, and she’d told him she was fine.

Something was wrong with Hyun-ju, and the worst thing of all was that she was lying about it.

When Friday evening came around, she showed up at his place without warning. “What?” she asked, already with an edge to her voice when he opened the door, looking startled. She was wearing baggy clothes, something he hadn’t seen on her since… in another life.

“… I thought I was going to meet you at your place.”

She stepped inside. “Why?”

He closed the door. “Because it’s Friday? Reunion day?”

She pulled a face. “And how exactly do you suggest we keep going to those? All three of us in the same room, now that Na-yeon knows? They’re not blind.”

Annoyance flared. He shoved it behind a placating smile. “Well, we’ll have to tell them eventually.” And it was the wrong thing to say. He could immediately tell. If only he could just as easily discern why it had been the wrong thing to say. These last days, an unsettling feeling had been steadily creeping up on Gyeong-seok that with every wrong thing he unwittingly said, he was actively making things worse. Which was the exact fucking opposite of what he should be doing to her.

“Not today,” she said flatly, kicking off her shoes. “You go on if you want. I can stay here with Na-yeon.”

“I could stay home too.” He carefully took her hands. “With you?”

“I’m not in the mood,” she said bluntly.

Gyeong-seok willed himself to stay calm. “I didn’t mean it like that. We could talk.”

“About what?”

“Whatever you want,” he said softly, searching her face. He knew there was no point in asking. Asked anyway. “What’s wrong, Gonjunim?”

She looked away. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He nodded to himself. Squeezed her hands. “I don’t much like it when you lie to me.” Let go.

He’s not sure what he felt when he heard her sharp little intake. Relief, perhaps, that behind that stony face, that monotonous voice, she was at least feeling something, anything. Perhaps he was simply angry, at this sudden wall between them he couldn’t seem to crack. At his own ineptitude.

He didn’t stick around to find out. Went to the damn reunion alone.

***

Gyeong-seok was in such a bad mood that it took him a while to realize he wasn’t simply projecting on his environment, and that this week’s gathering felt decidedly different. That around the couch where he was sitting next to Dae-ho, they were all sitting on chairs, arranged in a half circle. That everyone was looking as grim as he was feeling.

“Something is wrong with Hyun-ju.”

Gyeong-seok blinked at Gi-hun. The man was standing in front, looking gravely from one to the other. “She’s not doing well, and she won’t tell me why.”

“Oh, you actually asked and lived?” Dae-ho grimaced. “Because she almost bit my nose off.” Next to him, Jun-hee nodded in agreement.

Gyeong-seok huffed out a breath. So it wasn’t just him. The brief spark of relief got swiftly snuffed out by a renewed surge of worry. That meant this wasn’t just bad. This was big.

“Do we think it has something to do with her surgeries?” Geum-ja asked. “Maybe she’s just nervous?”

“That’s the thing,” Gi-hun frowned. “She told me she’s no longer going through with it.”

“What?” Gyeong-seok blurted out. “Since when?” He winced at his outburst, but it wasn’t too out of place. There were more than a few surprised gasps and exclamations all around.

Gi-hun raised his arms to settle them all down. “I don’t know, but she told me earlier this week. I asked her if she was going to need money any time soon for it, and she told me not to worry about it, it was no longer needed. That her plans changed.”

The room fell into a baffled silence.

“…The plans which were the very reason she joined the games for, changed.” Geum-ja repeated. Gi-hun nodded grimly. “And did you ask why?”

“I did. But she told me to mind my own business. And that if I couldn’t do that, she’d find someplace else to live.”

Dae-ho whistled lowly. “This is bad. Like, bad bad.”

Gyeong-seok silently agreed. He’d asked Hyun-ju how Gi-hun was doing only yesterday. She’d told him ‘fine’. How deep did this run? What else had she lied about?

“Do we think…” Jun-hee hesitated. “Could it be she’s not going through with it because of us?”

Gyeong-seok was momentarily lost. More so, when people around him started nodding in agreement.

“Maybe she convinced herself we all still need her help.” Yong-sik added. “And she doesn’t want to step away.”

“But… is the recovery time that long?” Gyeong-seok asked. Not that he needed to ask. He’d been reading up on things. Had been mentally preparing himself to be back on hospital duty, when the time came.

“Recovery time is hardly relevant, is it?” Yon-sik said. “Thailand isn’t exactly next door.”

“What’s Thailand got to do with it?” Gyeong-seok blinked confusedly around as absolutely everyone turned to look at him in clear surprise.

“That was Hyun-ju’s game plan”, Geum-ja said. “Pay off her debts. Move to Thailand. Finish her surgeries. Get a house. Start over.”

Dae-ho looked at him oddly. “She never told you?”

Gyeong-seok mutely shook his head. Had to open his mouth a few times before he managed words. It was difficult to get them out, on account of his heart being firmly lodged into his throat. “…Why Thailand?”

“There’s a lot of people like Hyun-ju there,” Yon-sik said. “The people are vastly more accepting. And they have some of the best gender affirming clinics.”

“Their laws are safer too,” Gi-hun added, scoffing as he went on. “They can’t just label you mentally insane over there and kick you out of the army. I mean, I doubt she could return to that career. But at least over there, she’d have vastly more options.”

And Gyeong-seok could suddenly see it so clearly. Hyun-ju, walking outside in the sun. Among people. Wearing whatever she liked without fear of properly passing. Not having to care about something so mundane and dangerous as holding hands. The image was so light, so heavy at the same time, that he had to lean forward on his knees.

“Maybe we could have an intervention, yes?” Geum-ja suggested. “We could all convince her that she helped us plenty, and that we will be fine without her.”

Gyeong-seok, who would decidedly not be fine without her, slid his hands into his hair.

I don’t think it’s just us,” Gi-hun said, his voice tinging dark. “I think it’s that mystery boyfriend of hers. She barely sleeps here anymore, did you know? She’s always out. Refuses to tell us anything. Whoever it is, I don’t believe his intentions are good.”

“Gyeong-seokya, are you alright?”

Gyeong-seok didn’t dare look up and face Jun-hee’s worry. “She never told me.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it man.” Dae-ho patted his shoulder. “It’s not like… eh…” He fell awkwardly silent. Retracted his hand.

Gyeong-seok forced himself to sit upright. To at least pretend he was listening to the plan they were trying to construct. But there was a roar behind his ears now, and as soon as he could politely manage it, he excused himself.

And went home.

She was sitting on the couch when he got in. Folded up in her favorite position, with a book against her knees. “Na-yeon went to bed without trouble. How is everyone doing?” She sounded better.

“You tell me.” He sounded worse.

She looked up confused. Froze, as her eyes met his. He always had been an open book.

“We need to talk.”

***

Hyun-ju carefully put the book down. Tried to make light with a smile. “Apparently, you’re not supposed to say those words in a relationship. Assumptions could be made.”

He didn’t smile back. “I am not breaking up with you, Hyun-juna. But I am going to ask you a question. And I want you to be honest this time.” The smile froze on her face as he walked over, sitting down on the couch as far away from her as physically possible. She steeled herself as he took a fortifying breath. “When did you decide you were no longer going to Thailand?”

She tried not to let the panic take her, but it was hard. Especially when he turned to face her. She’d seen Gyeong-seok beaten down before. In the games. In a doctor’s office, waiting for results and assuming the worst. To see it bloom so clearly across his face now, because of her. It hurt.

“Was it about ten days ago?” He went on, when she stayed silent. “You’ve been distant. Sad. I thought it was the therapy, maybe. Figured you were working through something. I suppose it doesn’t really matter when you changed your mind,” he went on, when she stayed silent. “The better question would be why?”

And he knew already, didn’t he. Because he wasn’t an idiot. But he clearly wanted her to say it. And Hyun-ju so dearly wanted to do anything but.

“…It’s a complicated procedure,” she stalled. “It’s not a light decision.”

He looked utterly unimpressed. “They told me you went to the games to get this done. Sounds pretty uncomplicated to me.”

“Who told you?”

“They all did. They were trying to come up with a plan. They’re worried about you.”

She desperately tried to lighten the mood. “That’s my job, not theirs.”

His lips tilted downward. “Hyun-juna, this isn’t a joke. They think your mystery boyfriend is a bad influence on you and has convinced you to give up on your dreams.” The unspoken implication hung in the air between them.

“…Dreams can change,” she said, after a beat too long.

Anger flickered behind his eyes. Settled in his shoulders. “I am going to need you to stop lying.”

“I’m not…” she stuttered to a stop as his anger flared. As he visibly reeled it back in. “Can… can we not do this today?”

“When then?” He leveled her with a hard stare. Not a cold one. He was never cold to her, not even now. “You said I could ask you anything. Was that a lie too?”

Hyun-ju briefly closed her eyes. Knew there was no way out of this, but through. “The plan was to go to Thailand, yes.”

He breathed out. “Thank you. Why is it no longer the plan now? What about your surgeries?”

She panicked right back into deflection. “Getting tired of brushing up to my imperfections, are you?”

“Please don’t do that.” Instead of backing off, he moved closer. “I’m not falling for that one again.” Reached for her hands. “You deserve to be happy.”

“I am happy,” she bit, flinching her hands back. And she wanted to believe it. She really did.

He clearly didn’t. “You haven’t looked very happy, lately.” He reached for her hands again. Took them in his, insistent without being forceful. “Shall I tell you what I think the plan is?” He paused, as if giving her time to face him. Went on anyway when she didn’t. “I think the plan is for Cho Hyun-ju to keep pushing herself to the bottom of the list, forever and ever, and only care for other people.”

Hyun-ju’s eyes began to sting. She tried to blink the feeling away. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing to never put yourself first, yes.”

Her eyes wouldn’t stop stinging. She was losing ground. Getting cornered, step by patient step. “What’s your ex-wife’s name?”

She’d only whispered it, but he still recoiled like she’d slapped him. “…That’s not important,” he managed, after a few painful beats.

She looked up at him, eyes back under control. “If it’s not important, you might as well tell me.”

He stared at her, clearly upset. He stayed silent.

“That’s what I thought.” She allowed herself a little smile. “I won’t become another name you can’t even utter aloud.”

Gyeong-seok didn’t anger easily. She’d never seen him lose his temper with Na-yeon, had only ever seen flashes of it towards other people. That server at their date. A temporary nurse who had tisked at Na-yeon to stop whining after a particularly rough day. Even now, Hyun-ju could tell he held it back, banked it behind something stronger.

“You are not like her,” he breathed fervidly. “You are nothing like her, do you hear? All she cared about…” his voice hitched, and he glanced away, but only for a moment, and when his eyes found hers again, she could tell they were stinging, much like hers before. “You care. You care so much. About everyone.”

“You’re right. I’m not her.” He frowned at her easy agreement. She raised a hand to his face, cradling his jaw. “Which means you’re stuck with me, Park Gyeong-seok.” She smiled at him, a true smile. “I am not going anywhere.” Leaned in.

He yanked himself out of her touch so violently he almost fell off the couch. His obvious rejection stung, but she kept her voice steady. She needed to get through this. Needed him to understand. “There is nothing you can say that will make me leave.”

Except there was. There was one thing. He could break up with her. He could send her away. She could see the mirror realization on his face. And he didn’t say it, he didn’t, but she winced like he had anyway. There was too much trauma in the air. Suffocating them both.

Gyeong-seok sagged into himself, the fight suddenly leaving him. “Would that make it easier for you?” He whispered, hoarse. “If I gave you up? If you could blame me?”

Her eyes were stinging again. She stubbornly blinked. “None of this is your fault. I am simply making a decision. And it is mine to make.”

He stayed silent for a long while. Tucked his hands in his hair and sat there, curled in on himself. Just when she dared to believe that it was over, she’d won, he took a long, shuddering breath. “I thought we were done playing games.”

Her vision blurred. She turned away.

“We’re not in the games anymore,” he went on, quietly. Pleading. “You don’t have to sacrifice yourself. Not for anyone, and especially not for me.” He looked up, so painfully hopeful. “Out here, we can all make it.”

She was irritatingly aware she was close to crying, and worse, that he could tell. “And next time the games we are no longer in have you dive under the kitchen table, what will you do then?”

He regarded her sadly. “You’re being unfair. And you’re being mean.”

She flushed. “I’m not—"

“To yourself. You think you don’t deserve this, do you.” She wanted to look away. Found that she couldn’t. “Is it because you voted to stay? Dae-ho voted to stay. Yet you never denied him his happiness. You tell us to be mad at the people running these games, yet you never listen to it yourself.”

Sharp fear clenched around Hyun-ju’s heart. She yanked it loose, wielded it like a weapon. “Say it, then. Say you don’t need me. Say you don’t want me. And I’ll go.” She knew he wouldn’t. She could see the love, clear on his face. Even laced with pain it shone so bright it hurt.

“I can’t.” His smile was brittle. “You asked me not to lie to you.”

She took a settling breath. That was that, then. The worst was over. She was back in control. She would give him time, and he’d come to understand. And then they could go back to what they had before. Not completely. But close enough.

“You can take the bed,” she said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He shook his head. “You can have the bed.” He sounded oddly flat. “The couch too.” He got up, and walked towards the hallway.

Panic surged her to her feet. “Where are you going?”

He stuffed his feet into his shoes. “Out.”

“What, just like that?”

He didn’t meet her eyes. Put on his coat. “Just like that.”

When he reached for the door, she yanked him back. “You can’t…" She was strong, and she’d surprised him. but when he wheeled on her, all her power drained away.

“I can’t?” he snarled. And Gyeong-seok didn’t anger easily. She’d only ever seen flickers, even tonight. But in this moment, towering over her, he shone with undiluted, agonized fury. “You made it very clear we have no say in each other’s lives.”

When the door slammed shut, Hyun-ju’s tears spilled over. And once they fell, she found she couldn’t stop.

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok drove through the night with carefully contained anger, well aware this was not the time to do anything stupid that could land him in the hospital. His hands clenched around the steering wheel so hard it creaked. He ignored his phone as it rang. And rang. And rang.

When the fifth call started up, he flung his car to the side with a growl, yanked it in park, and picked up. “Unless the house catches fire, stop calling. I’ll be back before Na-yeon wakes up.” He hung up before she could get a legible word in.

The phone stayed silent after that.

It was late when he got there. Much too late for social calls. Gi-hun didn’t complain, though. Simply answered the door with a wary, worried look. They were all alike, in that way. Never turned off their phones. Always prepared for bad news. Gyeong-seok really should have known better. Shouldn’t have let his guard down.

“I need to tell you something. Do you suppose Jun-hee and Dae-ho are still up?”

It took a little while for them to show up. Gyeong-seok paced around the living room while they waited, in this place where Hyun-ju supposedly lived. Noticed, for the first time, how little of her there was to be found within these walls. Noticed that his drawings had been put up to replace the files. His and Min-su’s. The boy was still awake. He’d attempted to retreat to his room when Gyeong-seok entered, but Gi-hun had quietly insisted he stay. They both waited in silence as Gyeong-seok paced, and paced, and practiced his words.

When Jun-hee and Dae-ho walked in, they had clearly just woken up, going by the yawns, the messy hair, the pajamas. But neither complained, or pointed out the time.

“Where’s Na-yeon?” Jun-hee immediately asked, worriedly checking around. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s safe,” Gyeong-seok said. “She’s with… she’s safe. She’s ok. This isn’t about her.” This was about Hyun-ju, but he didn’t say that outright. Not yet. For them to understand, he was going to have to start someplace else. Someplace he hated going back to. “This isn’t going to make sense right away, but please… hear me out.” He fiddled with his hands. Put them behind his back. Sat down on the couch. Stood back up. Sat back down.

They didn’t press. Didn’t rush him. But their stares were filled with unconcealed worry.

“I had a wife once,” he started. Fixed his eyes on the floor, unwilling to see their reactions. “We dated. Got married. Had Na-yeon. Perfectly ordinary story. Perfect family life.” He found his hands were trembling. “Then Na-yeon got sick,” he quietly told the floor. “And she kept getting sicker. We were in and out of hospitals, until we finally got a verdict. Blood cancer. Low odds. Not zero, but close. A long road ahead, with no guarantees. Na-yeon was two.”

The silence of the room was stifling. He hated talking about this. He hated even thinking about it. Hated giving her the attention, his time, after she had walked away with so much of it already.

He swallowed thickly. Forced out the words. “And… she left us. She filed for divorce, signed over full parental rights, changed her phone number, and… poof. Gone.” He huffed out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I think it is incredibly safe to say I have abandonment issues.”

“And you didn’t know about Thailand.”

Gyeong-seok looked up. Dae-ho was gaping at him in shocked comprehension. He nodded anyway. Faced Gi-hun and confessed to it, out loud. “I’m the boyfriend. Hyun-ju isn’t leaving because of me.” He took a shuddering breath. “And I don’t know how to get her to go. But she has to.” He looked at them all in turn. Defeated. Pleading. “She has to.”

***

Hyun-ju had been sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep, after he had hung up on her. After she had flung her phone at the wall. Too angry. Too sad. Too fucking scared of what tomorrow would bring. But when sounds from the hallway snapped her out of a fitful slumber, she jolted off the couch. Checked her cracked phone to find it was ten to seven. All night. He’d been out all night. And she was absolutely wrung out and still so fucking angry, but she also wanted nothing else but to bury herself in his arms, press into his chest. She stormed over to the hallway, to scream at him, cry at him, tell him to let it go and just forget everything for a while, to promise everything was going to be fine, if he would just…

She came face to face with… not Gyeong-seok. “Dae-hoya?” She glanced from his oddly serious face to the others. Jun-hee. Geum-ja. “What are you doing here?” she asked dumbly, as if she didn’t already know. He told them. He fucking told them. She was going to kill him. She was going to fling herself at his feet and beg.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Dae-ho said, firmly steering her back into the living room, the others following. “We are going to wake up Na-yeon, get both of you dressed, get some breakfast into you.” Geum-ja was already invading the kitchen. “And then I’m going to take Na-yeon for a walk.”

Hyun-ju pulled away from his touch, tried to keep her eyes on all three of them at once. “And then what?”

“And then us three women are going to have a talk,” Jun-hee said, with the soft firmness of a mother.

Hyun-ju looked for a way out. “Gyeong-seok set this up, didn’t he,” she breathed, feeling trapped. “He had no right.”

“He has every right!” Dae-ho exploded, startling her. “We’re your friends, and we have been worried sick about you. Why didn’t you just tell us you two were dating? Why didn’t you tell him about Thailand? Why don’t you ever fucking ask for help?”

She staggered back under the assault. “That’s not… you don’t… I had it all under…” she tried to pull herself together. “I was really really happy.”

Dae-ho deflated. Looked at her so fucking sad. “Hyun-juna.”

She choked out a sob. “I was happy enough.”

***

Na-yeon, blissfully, had no idea what was going on. She took to the surprise visitors like any other change in her predominantly hospital ruled life. She did ask where her appa was, but once she was told Dae-ho was taking her to see him after breakfast, she happily went along with it all.

When her cheerful chatter had been wrangled into shoes and a coat and her strawberry hat, Hyun-ju was left to face Geum-ja and Jun-hee alone.

“Hyun-juna,” Geum-ja said, without any pre-amble. “You have to go to Thailand.”

“I can’t.” Hyun-ju crossed her arms. Looked away. “I won’t.” They couldn’t make her. She was an adult. An adult who was done listening to other people’s rules.

“We’re not saying you have to stay there for good,” Geum-ja went on patiently. “Dreams can change. But you need to get your surgeries. Don’t stand there and claim you don’t need them. You wouldn’t have risked your life if that were the case.” She smiled sadly. “And take it from an old woman. You should never value any man, not even one such as Gyeong-seok, above your own happiness. Ever.”

Hyun-ju refused to uncoil her defenses. “That sounds selfish.”

“It isn’t.” Geum-ja sounded infuriatingly calm. “But it’s an easy trap to fall into, to believe that it is.”

“Gyeong-seok won’t be on his own,” Jun-hee said. “He’ll still have us, won’t he? We’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t starve.”

Hyun-ju huffed out a pained chuckle. “That man needs no help in the kitchen. I’m the one who doesn’t even know how to not burn eggs.”

“Then tell us what you think he needs. What to look out for.”

“He needs me not to leave him,” she began, but Jun-hee surged suddenly forward, grasping her hands so tightly, so fervently.

“Hyun-juna, he loves you. Not the idea of you. Not the obligation of you. He loves you. Do you know how lucky you are? You are wasting away and it is destroying him.” She pierced Hyun-ju with a fierce look. “Do this for yourself. Put yourself first. You can choose to come back after. But you can’t make that choice unless you actually leave.”

Hyun-ju tried to pull away. “I…”

Geum-ja stepped in, added her hands to theirs. “It’s not running away ttala,” she said gently, squeezing Hyun-ju’s trembling hands as she began to cry. “It’s running towards yourself.”

***

Hyun-ju walked towards the playground where she had been told she could find Gyeong-seok. She’d been let go only after promising she would talk to him. It was warm out, but she’d still put on a scarf to cover her throat. Had taken the time to do her hair, the better to frame her face.

She found him sitting at the same bench as before. He was distantly keeping an eye on Na-yeon who was sitting on her knees in the sandbox, throwing up sand. She was getting it absolutely everywhere. They’d have to thoroughly shake her out before returning home. The thought slipped in unbidden. That quiet bliss of a domestic life everyone fully expected her to walk away from.

He didn’t turn when she sat down. Didn’t speak. Only the tension in his jaw gave away that he knew she was there.

Hyun-ju joined him in staring out over the playground. “I just had a talk with Geum-ja and Jun-hee.”

“And?” He sounded carefully composed.

“They told me I should put myself first.”

“And will you?”

She stayed silent. Stared at Na-yeon who was trying to build something in ever shifting sand. Jumped, when his hand brushed hers, out here in public. Hastily pulled away.

“This,” he sighed out. Tired, exasperated. “Exactly this. Aren’t you sick of it? You know it would be easier for you in Thailand.”

She put her hands into her lap. Didn’t look at him. “So you want me to leave.”

“Yes.”

Zero hesitation. That hurt. “And I’m just supposed to be ok with that. About walking away from you. Just like…”

“Sun-jung.”

She looked over, startled.

He didn’t appear angry. Rather… calmly resigned, as he kept his eyes on his daughter. “It’s not that I want to keep any of my past a secret. I don’t talk about her because I refuse to give her the light of my day.” In front of them, Na-yeon threw up a cloud of sand, the wind catching half of it in her face. He smiled at her scrunched-up face. “I used to hate her. But that just kept her there. Like a hard center I had to try and live around. So I stopped. She’s been going fuzzy around the edges, lately. Maybe if I’m lucky, one day I’ll forget the sound of her voice.”

Her throat was closing up. “I don’t…”

“Can I say something please?” He said softly. Still staring at Na-yeon. “Take it from a single parent. Constantly putting someone else above your own needs is exhausting. I love Na-yeon. I love her. I do,” he empathized once more, sounding pained. “…But there’s days I resent her.” It came out small. Guilty. “And I guess I’m a little selfish that way.” He finally looked at her. “I don’t want you to resent me at all.”

Under his painfully honest gaze, she forgot how to breathe.

“Hyun-juna,” he whispered. “Please.”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He didn’t relax. Not yet. “I need you to say it, nae sarang.”

Something so soft shouldn’t hurt this much. “I’ll go to Thailand,” she whispered.

He breathed out in clear relief. “Thank you.”

She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t. “…So what does that make us?”

“We are Hyun-ju and Gyeon-seok,” he said simply, gazing at her as if she lighted his world. “And we survived far worse than long distance.”

***

Gyeong-seok dug Na-yeon out of the sandbox to take her home. And Hyun-ju went with. They shook out Na-yeon outside as best they could. Trailed sand inside anyway. Hyun-ju cleaned it up while Gyeong-seok wrangled his loudly protesting daughter into taking a bath. Put a wash on while Hyun-ju placated a very pouty Na-yeon wrapped in a towel by doing her nails and toenails both.

They played a few board games, together at the table. Went out for ice cream after. Gyeong-seok carried Na-yeon the entire way there, high on his shoulders, and Hyun-ju knew it was to keep her from latching on to her hand. Na-yeon got a brain freeze, and ice cream on her nose, and Hyun-ju’s insides ached so much she struggled to eat her own. To manage more than three bites at the dinner table. They tucked Na-yeon in together. Divided up doing the voices.

And then Gyeong-seok led Hyun-ju to the couch, sat them both down, and handed her his laptop.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, when she paused her typing.

She hesitated. “If I confirm this, my surgery will be in three weeks. Which means I have to leave next weekend at the latest.”

“That makes sense,” he said, infuriatingly calm.

“Only…” she reread her confirmation mail to her doctor for the third time. Stared at the send button. “Na-yeon has her check up test on Wednesday.” What if it went bad? What if she left and then things got bad?

He gave her a contemplative look. “It could be months before Na-yeon goes into remission. Years. You can’t wait for that.”

“You’re waiting for that,” she countered weakly. Stared at the send button as if it didn’t read send at all. As if it was a blue circle. Sucked in a breath as his hand slid into hers. Warm, and grounding.

She pressed the button.

He squeezed her hand. “Well done.” He took the laptop away. Pulled her into his arms. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You said that before.” She pressed her cheek to his heartbeat. Steady. Calming. “Nobody ever said that to me before.”

He kissed her forehead. Held her close. They stayed like that for a long time.

***

They spent Sunday together in much the same way, the day flying by way too fast. On Monday, Hyun-ju went and told Gi-hun. Drafted up a budget with him, looked at possible housing. Booked her flight. Plonked her decision in the group chat, figuring it would be easier than to face them all one by one. Got bombarded with phone calls anyway, with a Jun-hee who stormed over from next door, shoved the baby in Gi-hun’s arms and fully hugged her. Min-su even stuttered out three full sentences, wishing her well, thanking her, saying that he would miss her.

On Tuesday, Dae-ho dragged her out to go shopping for essentials, which apparently meant a vast variety of Korean snacks. She went over for dinner with Geum-ja and Yong-sik, and did her best not to cry when the woman hugged her, when she told her she was so proud of her. Failed, when Geum-ja called her ttala again, casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Chuckled through her tears when Yong-sik leveled her a look and said he wasn’t calling her nuna, she was younger than him. Fully laughed when she retaliated by calling him oppa and he spluttered uncomfortably, spilling his drink over the table. Found she couldn’t stop laughing and crying when Geum-ja stormed out of the kitchen to scold them both.

Wednesday, she went along to the amusement park. She walked around with Na-yeon as Gyeong-seok worked, doing her best to distract them both until it was time to go in to the hospital. Na-yeon cried when they drew blood, demanded to go home right after, scared they would try and keep her there. The doctor promised he would call with the results as soon as they had them, probably somewhere tomorrow afternoon. That night, Gyeong-seok burned dinner. And his finger. Hyun-ju made him run it under the tap while she ordered take out, bandaged him up. His hands were trembling. She cleaned up the kitchen. Tucked Na-yeon in for him. Dragged him to bed and made him forget about everything, if only for a moment.

She tagged along to work the next day as well, waylaying his weak protests of her needing time to pack. She could do it tomorrow, she assured him. She wasn’t taking much. Didn’t tell him that most of what she had was right here. By noon, his hands were shaking to the point where he couldn’t put pencil to paper. She pretended to be a customer again, so he wouldn’t have to.

His phone rang at a quarter past two. He almost fumbled it. His face was so anguished, so raw, she couldn’t stop herself from taking hold of his hand, public be damned, she’d fight them all if she had to. He almost crushed her fingers. Sagged in on himself, suddenly and utterly as the news sunk in. “Better,” he croaked out, with a watery smile. “Better.”

He hugged Na-yeon so tight she complained she couldn’t breathe. Bought her the biggest lollipop be could find.

Hyun-ju swung by the hospital for him to pick up Na-yeon’s altered meds for the upcoming two weeks. Called Jun-hee to ask if she could keep the next testing evening free to go with them, to make sure no kitchens got burned. Had Jun-hee pass the phone to Dae-ho, asked him to run intervention the day after. Gyeong-seok yelled at her for that a little, when she told him. But he also kissed her. Asked her, with shy hopefulness, if she might possibly allow him to draw her tonight. She pushed past her own insecurities to tell him yes. That he could draw her whenever he wanted.

Friday’s reunion was turned into a Safe Travels party. Which was not the same as a goodbye party, Jun-hee had been adamant in telling Hyun-ju. There had been hugs, and well wishes, and more hugs, and more than a coupe of tears. There had been scoldings as well, mostly from Geum-ja and Gi-hun, about the dangers of secret relationships and the importance of accepting help. At one point, Gi-hun had dragged Gyeong-seok into the kitchen for a talk, which made Hyun-ju feel a strange mix of warm anxiety. She had held the baby and wondered about how big she would get, how much new firsts she would miss. She managed to almost, but not quite, defeat Na-yeon at gonggi. Managed to wrangle more than four sentences in a row out of Min-su. She teamed up with Yong-sik to corner Geum-ja, who was apparently refusing to go see a doctor about this flaring pain in her hip. She sneakily asked Dae-ho if him and Jun-hee were maybe becoming a thing, and he laughed so hard Na-yeon ran over to demand to know what the joke was. In between it all, Gyeong-seok would appear at her side, slip his hand into hers, rest his chin on her shoulder, briefly, before letting her get on with saying her goodbyes. Through it all, she had wanted to kiss him, one last time. Didn’t, in the end. Vowed to herself it would be something to look forward to. To come back to.

Gi-hun drove her to the airport the next day. Gyeong-seok had offered to go with her, but he had Na-yeon to look after, who didn’t entirely understand why Hyun-ju was leaving, only that it had to do with hospitals. And Hyun-ju knew her own weaknesses. Knew it would be impossible to get on that plane with them both standing there.

Gi-hun insisted on carrying her luggage for her, from the car to the check-in. Just the one suitcase. She’d packed light. After all, she’d be back. She had assumed he’d be terrible at goodbyes. She hadn’t expected him to turn to her with grim honesty. “None of us would be alive without you.”

“… None of us would be alive without you,” she countered. For a while, they lingered in awkward standoff.

Gi-hun caved first. “I know it’s hard not to blame yourself. I know I will never stop blaming myself. But you did the best in an impossible situation.”

She realized she was gaping at him. “…Have you been going to therapy?”

“Must be your bad influence.” He pointedly ignored her grin. “Gyeong-seok is a good guy.”

“I thought you hated my mystery boyfriend,” she tried to make light. Her voice wavered a little around the last word.

“He’s caring. A good father.” Something twisted in Gi-hun’s face. “Went to the games for as selfless a reason as one can get.” He looked at her gravely. “But you’re not selfish for wanting to live your own truth. None of us knew the cost before we got there.”

“No,” she said softly. “Not before, no.”

For a moment, Gi-hun studied her face. Nodded to himself, as if making up his mind. “Fifteen.”

“… fifteen what?”

“Total survivors of my first Squid Game.”

She looked at him confused. “I thought you were the sole survivor?”

“We voted. Right after Mugunnghwa kkoci pieot seumnida. It was a tie, right up until the end. The difference was one vote. One. 201 of us were sent home.” He briefly closed his eyes. “Less than a week later, 187 of us returned. More hopeless than before.”

She stared at him, trying to process.

“What I’m saying is, it wasn’t on you.” He pierced her with a look. “The real murderers, they don’t regret. Don’t carry it for them.” He looked up at the departure board. “You should get going. Let us know if you need anything. Anything at all. Thailand isn’t that far.”

“Thank you,” she choked out. He nodded curtly. Kept standing there, while she walked through security. Was still there when she glanced back, before turning the corner to her gate.

She’d been dreaming about this for a long time. Only in none of those dreams had she ever looked back. Had never dared, not even in her wildest fantasies, to believe she would have things to look forward to, both ways.

It’s not running away, she reminded herself. And got on the plane.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju only had to spend two nights at a hotel, including the night she landed. The first apartment she looked at had been somewhat lacking. The second was modest, more than adequate as a temporary pad. The third address was a house, and it was perfect. The owners were friendly, but they kept throwing puzzled glances at her enthusiasm as they showed her around. She was sure it had nothing to do with her transness, for once. The couple was more than obviously queer themselves.

“I love this sitting room,” Hyun-ju breathed. She never had a room just for sitting in before, and she didn’t exactly need one now. But something about this room sang to her. It was right off the spacious kitchen, with a huge window, dappled in sunlight from the little garden. She caught another confused glance. “…Is there any reason you think I shouldn’t get it?”

The couple glanced at each other in clear hesitation. “If you love it, then obviously we’d be delighted to sell to you.”

Hyun-ju raised an eyebrow.

The couple conversed in rapid Thai, too fast for her to pick up on, before seeming to come to a decision. “Forgive us our forwardness. But... Isn’t it a bit big for just one person? It has three bedrooms.”

And a garden. And a spacious kitchen she would probably never use, and a sitting room she didn’t need. But Hyun-ju had been getting by on simply meeting bare needs long enough. Found, now that she was here, that she was quite done with it. Plus, she had friends now. They would need a place to sleep when they came to visit.

She signed the papers that very day. Moved in the day after.

Living on her own again was… strange. And not simply because she was in a completely different country. It hadn’t wholly registered with her that she hadn’t lived alone since the night she had allowed herself to be picked up for the games. That she’d gone from bunkbeds, to the hotel, to bunking with Gi-hun and Min-su, to… not quite living together with Gyeong-seok. And she did miss him. She missed all of them. She even missed Na-yeon screaming at her before her coffee had kicked in, to come help pick out a dress. But she found she loved the freedom of it. Of rediscovering what it was that she liked. To be able to go out and not worry about anyone but her own. No more lists to tally or track. Only hers. She failed at not feeling guilty about it though.

She went to her clinic appointments. Slept in. Went for long walks that didn’t really go anywhere. Worked on her Thai, both on her own, and by struggling her way through shop encounters and menus. She even dipped her toe into the local queer scene, testing the waters. Even tentatively put in a foot. Just because she wasn’t here to stay, she reasoned, didn’t mean she had to lock herself away for four months. She was not entirely surprised to find the queer community welcoming, even with her lacking grasp of the language. Was, however, incredibly surprised when she got hit on, more than once.

She politely shut it all down. She was flattered, obviously, in a flustered way that made it even harder to remember the correct Thai words. But flattered wasn’t the same as interested. Gyeong-seok had never broken up with her. She’d given him one last opportunity, on their last night together, and he’d calmly ignored it. Had kissed her until she stopped talking. They still sent each other messages, called on evenings she stayed in. But there was a distance there. He was… careful. Friendly. There had been absolutely no flirting. But it didn’t feel like he was pulling away. Rather that he was giving her space. Leaving it up to her. Letting her lead. Always and ever, following her lead.

Gyeong-seok: One more week. Are you nervous?

She was, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that from over there. She put the book away she had been reading, in this comfy new chair she had bought special, which she had put up in that sitting room she didn’t really need.

Hyun-ju: It’s not like I have to actively contribute. I just have to lie there, right?

Gyeong-seok: Not being able to do anything is the hardest part.

She frowned at her phone. That man knew her too well.

Gyeong-seok: Just reminding you there’s emotional support on standby, should you want it.

Hyun-ju: Unlike Na-yeon I’m not five.

Her phone rang, and she cursed.

“Hospitals never stop being scary,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Now what did we say about asking for help?”

“You know that appa voice doesn’t work on me.”

“And you know I don’t like it when you lie,” he bounced back teasingly.

She felt herself flush. It was the closest he’d gotten to flirting since she left.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone right after surgery,” he went on. “And I will have you know I am incredibly well versed in sitting next to a hospital bed. I can provide references. They’re mostly in crayon though.”

She snorted. “And you’re very sweet. But I did this before, remember? I came out of top surgery perfectly fine,” she teased.

He didn’t take the bait. “I’m not saying you can’t do it all on your own, I am saying you don’t have to do it on your own. Now, I’ve been doing some reading on the subject…”

Hyun-ju groaned. “You are such a parent.”

“…And you’re not supposed to do anything more strenuous than walking, that first week out of the hospital,” he went on unperturbed. “You’re not even allowed to lift anything heavy the first month. How were you planning on feeding yourself?”

“Take-out.” It wasn’t even a joke, but she still took a sneaky pleasure in hearing him breathe out through his nose. Feeding Gyeong-seok take-out two times in a row was a sure way of ruining his week. That man liked control over his food the way Hyun-ju liked control over… everything else, really.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m coming over to feed you.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“I’m not being absurd. I am being your boyfriend.”

The admission, so easily given, the confirmation of what they still were, it warmed her cheeks in a whole different way than his flirting. It spread pleasantly all the way down to her toes. She failed at fighting a smile. “Same thing.”

“Hyun-juna.” He turned serious. “If you don’t want me there, you can tell me. I won’t break.” He hesitated. “Or… if you’d rather have someone else? I could ask Geum-ja?”

She sat back with a sigh. She truly didn’t deserve him. But as usual, he seemed to vehemently disagree with that opinion. “You’re sweet, you really are. But you have your job, and you have Na-yeon…”

“I’m sure Na-yeon will be devastated if I ask her if she wants to go for a sleepover,” he deadpanned. Once their friends had found out he had to take Na-yeon into work with him, they had offered to step in and help. Na-yeon currently stayed one weekday at Geum-ja’s, another with Dae-ho, and was getting thoroughly spoiled by both. “As for work, I can take time off.”

“I thought you needed the money—"

“I know a guy,” Gyeong-seok cut her off. “Apparently, I should be getting better at accepting help.” His teasing tone turned serious again. “Hyun-juna. Let me take care of you?”

She swallowed the knee jerk reaction of saying no. “…I’ll think about it.”

She could practically hear his smile. “Thank you.”

And she did think about it. Almost told him no numerous times. Almost told him yes a couple of other times. But the issue was forced when at her final checkup, her surgeon told her in no uncertain terms that if she lived alone with no assistance, he would not discharge her until at least two weeks after surgery, as opposed to six days. The very idea made her skin itch. The last time she stayed in the hospital she was crawling up the walls by day three.

Hyuju: One week. After my discharge. Non-negotiable. And I’m going to need proof of references.

The moment she pressed send she felt instantly horrible. Suddenly couldn’t take the idea of it. That sense of having her hard won independence so utterly ruined. Because of a man.

She went out for drinks that evening. Multiple. Got a little too loud, a little too bold. Just a little too flirty. She snapped out of it when the guy placed a hand on her hip, leaned in with a smile that was so utterly wrong because it wasn’t his. She ended up hiding in the bathroom, splashing water in her face until the guilt subsided. Found out that the approximate time one could spend panicking in a queer bar’s bathroom before someone worriedly asked if you were alright, was well under a minute. She spent the rest of the evening sipping water at the table of two protective women. She’d almost cried when she realized one of them spoke Korean. She missed home. It felt like another failing. They didn’t laugh at her when she said it out loud.

When she woke up the next day, she had a pounding headache, two new phone numbers in her contacts, and a message from Gyeong-seok. He’d provided the promised reference. Na-yeon’s drawing depicted Hyun-ju, looking sad in bed, her appa standing next to her with a smile, holding a mountain of food.

Hyun-ju: You did compensate her for that art request, I hope. Artists have it hard these days.

She also texted the two new numbers to thank them. To apologize for her drunk behavior. And, after some hesitation, offered to take them out to dinner to make up for it. Because she didn’t have to be alone. Not just because she could. It didn’t have to be a failing, to need people in her life.

***

“I’m sorry Gyeong-seok-shi, but I can’t really spare you for a full week.”

Gyeong-seok smiled at his boss with a strange sense of calm. He was walking out of here either with approved leave, or he was walking out without a job. The thought should terrify him, but it didn’t. Not the way it used to. It was amazing, really, what a sturdy support network could do. “What if I find you a replacement?”

She hesitated. “I suppose… but you’d have to train them up yourselves. And I’ll have to see a portfolio.”

“I can do that.” It would be good for Min-su, to get out of the house more.

The boy looked a little startled when Gyeong-seok told him, but granted, he always looked like that. He didn’t complain though. His job hunting had been turning rather abysmal lately. Min-su was too soft by far for the capitalistic grinder. But then again, who wasn’t?

When he told Hyun-ju the good news, she sounded downright impressed. “You got Min-su a job?”

“Only temporary.” Gyeong-seok was already tucked in bed. It had been a hot day, and Na-yeon hadn’t fully cooperated during bedtime. He was tired, and he could have just texted her, but he’d wanted to hear her voice. “I’m flying out Thursday evening, so I can pick you up Friday.”

“You can drop by the house first if you want. Put your luggage away. Freshen up. I can hide a key in the garden.”

“There’s a garden?” He tried to picture it. Smiled warmly at the thought that in nine more days, he wouldn’t have to try and picture it anymore. That he would get to see her again. It had been less than two weeks since she left, but he missed her already. Had started missing her the moment he left the party. He didn’t say it though. Didn’t want to burden her with his silly emotions. Knew her well enough to know she’d feel guilty about it. “Two more days,” he said instead. “Getting nervous?”

She hummed. “Not really. On one hand, it doesn’t feel real? On the other, I’ve been waiting for this for so long now.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I’m really happy for you.” And he meant it. Missing her was a smile price to pay, for her to have this.

“If anything at all comes up, you can cancel, you know.”

He frowned at the sudden shift. “Can you stop looking for excuses please.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said gently. “You have Na-yeon’s test again next Wednesday. I know she comes first.” There was no jealousy in it. No malice. A mere statement of fact.

Because that’s just who Hyun-ju was, wasn’t it? Always keeping others in the back of her mind. Keeping track of his schedule, even from two time zones away. Not merely understanding how important Na-yeon was, but agreeing with it, wholeheartedly. “You are an astounding woman, do you know that?” He murmured, feeling so ridiculously in love.

“So you keep telling me.” If he closed his eyes he could picture it perfect, that bashful little smile.

“And I’ll keep telling you until you believe it.” He forced himself to consider it. “If I get bad news on Thursday, we’ll go from there. Worst case, I’ll send over Gi-hun,” he tried to lighten the mood. Grinned victoriously as she barked out a laugh.

She called him again the night after. Sent him message after message on Friday. When she arrived at the hospital. When she was being prepped for surgery. When she was given a ridiculous gown and hairnet. He stayed glued to his phone, not caring if any park visitor would file a complaint, messaging back as best he could to alleviate her nerves. Kept it light, and joking. Kept it free from his own rising dread, his guilt that he was entirely in the wrong place, that he should be there by her side, where he belonged.

Her next message was a selfie. She was right about the gown and the hairnet; they did look ridiculous. Her smile was both nervous and determined at the same time.

Hyun-ju: Go time.

Gyeong-seok: See you on the other side, nae sarang.

She went quiet after that. And he tried, and utterly failed, at not worrying every second of the long, long hours she was under.

***

Hyun-ju sluggishly blinked open her eyes.

She couldn’t feel anything but pain. Which was alright. She was used to pain. She knew it would get better. From here on out, things could only get better.

“Ah, our sleeping beauty is awake.” The nurse walked into the room and checked her vitals. “How are we feeling?”

It took a while for Hyun-ju to dig out the correct words in Thai. “I got shot.”

“Sounds like a solid eight.” The nurse walked over to her painkiller drip to adjust it. “The doctor will come by in a couple of hours, but feel free to call if your pain doesn’t drop down to at least a five in the next half hour. We currently have you on a catheter, that’s staying in for another four days at least. Anything else I can do for you?”

“Phone please.”

“You really shouldn’t move already, Miss Cho.”

“I just want to let them know I’m…” her brain was all cotton. “…alive.”

The nurse chuckled. “I guess we can do that. How about a brave picture then? My Korean writing skills aren’t the best. Ah… unless you don’t want them to see you like this?”

She smiled, groaned when even that little movement hurt. “He’s seen me worse.”

She held up a shaky thumb as the nurse snapped the picture, directed him through her message app to send it on to Gyeong-seok. His reply was immediate. The nurse held it up for Hyun-ju to read. Politely didn’t attempt to read it. Firmly put the phone out of reach after that, and told her to get some rest.

The hours, the days, they became a blur of sleep and pain. Of redressing wounds Hyun-ju couldn’t see, but could definitely feel. Of medical talks about wound care, scar care, dilation techniques. Hyun-ju didn’t feel any shame during any of it. It was being fragile she took issue with. She had to clench her jaw to keep from swearing whenever they redressed her down there. Was incredibly glad none of them understood enough Korean to get the gist of her cursing when they took out the catheter.

On day six, Hyun-ju breathed her way through a thorough examination by her doctor, who declared her free from complications, and cleared her to leave the hospital tomorrow.

“It’ll take a while before the swelling to go down. And it could be months before everything evens out, sometimes even up to a year. Be patient with yourself. Whatever you do, do not force your own body, it will only prolong your healing.” He checked her file. “Now, you noted down you had someone to come pick you up?”

“Yeah.” Her heart swelled. “I do.”

***

“We’re home!” Dae-ho hollered, chucking off his shoes, stepping out of the hallway. He was immediately pulled back by an insistent Na-yeon.

“Samchona, you didn’t put your shoes away.”

Dae-ho hurried to put them away correctly. “Aeh, thank you, it’s a good thing your appa didn’t see,” he whispered conspiringly.

“Didn’t see what?” Gyeong-seok played along from right behind them, grinning widely when they both jumped.

“Nothing!” Dae-ho took Na-yeon’s little suitcase out of her appa’s hands. “Cmon Na-yeona, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

Jun-hee was standing in the living room holding her daughter. “Congratulations on your test results Na-yeona!” She offered the kid a high five.

“No more pills!” Na-yeon cried happily.

“Yes more pills,” Gyeong-seok corrected her, for the tenth time that day. “Her numbers are better, but we’re not there yet,” he told Jun-hee.

“Well, you look better,” Jun-hee smiled at Na-yeon, letting her go to run after Dae-ho. “Can’t say the same for you,” she told Gyeong-seok, looking him over. “Nervous?”

“Immensely so,” Gyeong-seok admitted, holding out his hands to take over the baby. “Hello there little one. Oof, someone’s getting heavy!”

“She’s growing so fast,” Jun-hee sighed. “It’s like I blink and her clothes no longer fit.”

“Just wait until she starts crawling. And walking.” Gyeong-seok smiled at the baby, who was looking at him with big eyes. “And talking.”

“I am definitely not ready for any of that,” Jun-hee sighed, turning when Dae-ho and Na-yeon came back into the living room. “Now, who wants to help me in the kitchen?”

“Me!” Na-yeon hollered.

“Please don’t give her any knives!” Gyeong-seok said. “I’m sick of hospitals.” He moved the baby to one arm to dig papers out of his pocket. “Ok, so, Dae-hoya, here’s her medication schedule. We usually take them at breakfast. You’re going to need to check her after, because she sometimes tries to hide them under her tongue to spit back out. If she for any reason throws up within an hour of taking them, give her another dose.” He handed Dae-ho another page. “This is all the food she can’t have because it interferes with her medication. And this…” yet another page, “is the emergency contact at the hospital. If there’s anything at all, you can call me too, alright? Whatever the question. Now, she needs to brush her teeth before breakfast and before bed, she has a timer on her toothbrush. She hates taking a bath, so be prepared for protest splashing, and she tends to…” Gyeong-seok stuttered to a halt when Dae-ho put a grounding hand on his shoulder.

“Dude. Chill. I have three cousins. Well, four now with Na-yeon.” Dae-ho smiled. “We’ll be fine.” He studied Gyeong-seok’s face. “When’s the last time you were away from her for longer than a day?”

“The games,” he sighed.

“Uhu, obviously. And before that?”

Gyeong-seok grimaced. “Never.”

Dae-ho gave him a solemn look. “She’s safe with us. Promise.”

The tension unwound a little. “I know. Thank you.”

The front door opened, and Gi-hun and Min-su walked in. Min-su walked over to Gyeong-seok as soon as his shoes were out to take over the baby.

“Dae-hoya,” Jun-hee hollered from the kitchen, “come help, Na-yeon is doing all of your work. Gyeong-seokya, are you joining us for dinner?”

“I can’t, I need to get going if I want to catch my flight. I just need to call a taxi.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Gi-hun said. He was standing in the hallway with his shoes still on. “I’m driving you.”

“…You are?”

“Of course.” Gi-hun held up his car keys. “You’re carrying your own luggage though.”

Gyeong-seok managed to leave with only a minimum of clingy Na-yeon hugs. Out of the two of them, the clinginess wasn’t coming from her. He shouted goodbye from the doorway three times, but she merely waved at him, already preoccupied again in the kitchen.

“Everything alright?” Gi-hun asked, when five minutes into the drive, Gyeong-seok was still frowning.

“Yeah, I’m just…” he chuckled somewhat awkwardly. “I’m not used to Na-yeon not missing me.”

Gi-hun hummed. “It’s probably not going to hit her until she has to go to bed. She’ll be begging us to call you before you even landed.”

That helped, a little. It also made Gyeong-seok consider something he had wondered about before. “… Gi-hun-shi. Do you have kids?”

Gi-hun tensed. Kept his eyes on the road. Gyeong-seok was just about to apologize for even asking when he sighed, resigned. “A daughter. She lives with my ex-wife.”

That explained a lot. “Do you ever get to see her?”

Gi-hun’s face went stony. “They moved to America.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Gyeong-seok couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like. “Do you miss her?”

Gi-hun’s face was all hard angles, but his eyes gave him away before his words. “Every damned day.”

Chapter Text

Due to the two-hour time difference, Gyeong-seok landed in Thailand in the middle of the night. He’d gotten some decent hours of sleep in during the flight, perks of being used to crashing out at hospitals. He made his way through the quiet airport, took a taxi, and handed the driver the address. Hyun-ju’s address. Suddenly, the forty-minute taxi ride seemed to take twice as long as the entire six-hour flight. Suddenly, he found himself nervous.

The house was easy enough to find; Hyun-ju had not only sent him the address, but also pictures of the street, the house, down to the specific rock under which she had hidden the key. Letting himself inside felt oddly intrusive. Until he turned on the light. It felt like Hyun-ju’s place. He couldn’t explain why exactly. Perhaps it was just that he recognized her shoes, when he slotted his next to hers. Maybe it was the open airiness of the place, even at night. Or the colors. Or the blankets and books that were absolutely everywhere.

She’d left him a note. He smiled at her handwriting, such a silly little detail to feel warm about. Chuckled softly at the little floor plan she’d drawn up, complete with arrows to the guest room. He unpacked, put his toiletries in the bathroom. Tried not to feel too strange about putting his toothbrush next to hers. Such a silly little thing to have missed, to see her things around. Her hairbrush, her make up, her nail polish collection neatly arranged by color.

He took a shower to wash away the travel grime. Felt too awake by far, too antsy, but forced himself to try and sleep anyway. After some tossing and turning, not used to the silence of an empty house, he finally managed it, only to wake much too early. His cellphone read six. Hyun-ju wasn’t allowed to leave the hospital until ten. He could probably arrive a little early, but not that much. She was probably still sleeping.

To kill the time, he took a closer look at the house. He didn’t open any doors that were closed. After all, he was just a visitor. But he got a sense of the layout, found the living room even cozier now that the sun was coming out. After some fiddling with the backdoor lock, he managed to step out into the garden. Stood there, for a little while, taking in the fragrance of the flowers, the sound of the waking birds. If he closed his eyes he could almost pretend Hyun-ju was right there, standing next to him, sipping her morning coffee in the early morning rays. She’d found herself a good place. It made him happy and sad at the same time.

The kitchen was bigger than he imagined she would have gone for, and for a slight moment he was impressed, until he checked the fridge. And the cabinets. “Woman,” he grumbled. “How do you not starve.” He was going to have to go shopping. Which might be a problem, because his Thai was abysmal. It was a good thing he downloaded all the apps.

When he walked into the adjoining room, he stopped in his tracks. There was a big comfy chair in the corner, which looked perfect for curling up with a book. A small couch was positioned right under a huge window, which was taking up almost the entire wall, facing the garden. Gyeong-seok stared at the natural light. Found that his fingers were itching. He still had time, didn’t he? It was a good thing he brought his sketch book.

***

Hyun-ju was beyond nervous. Which was, she was fully aware, beyond silly. It was only Gyeong-seok. It had only been three weeks. He’d seen her in worse conditions before. And he wouldn’t have offered, wouldn’t have flown all the way here if he didn’t want to take care of her. She had to remember that. That it wasn’t fair to think it normal for herself to care for others, and then deny them the same.

Gyeong-seok: In the lobby. Let me know when you want me to come up.

She snorted. Which was a mistake, because that hurt. That man needed an invitation for everything like a damn vampire.

Hyun-ju: Please get me out of here.

The next five minutes lasted about as long as the entire operation, probably. Not that Hyun-ju was being dramatic or anything. She heard him before she saw him. It didn’t even surprise her she’d apparently internalized the sound of his footsteps. When he walked into the room, something that had been wound tight inside of her suddenly let go. She’d known she had missed him. Somehow she had underestimated how much. She reached for him.

“Hi,” he breathed, smiling brightly, reaching for her in return. His hand was warm, and familiar, everything about him was so familiar. When did this man she only met a few months ago become such a big part of her life? “How are you feeling?” He sat down next to her bed, checking her over, not letting go of her hand. “You look…”

“Horrid,” she chuckled.

He grimaced. “I was going to go with tired.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Maybe it was the pain meds, or the fact that due to the surgery her hormones were going through it, but the softness of it was too much, was not enough at all. His hand stilled at her sharp intake of a breath. She reached up, pressed his hand against her cheek without thinking about it. Closed her eyes as he let her, as he caressed her jaw with his thumb.

When she opened her eyes again, he quickly averted his. Sounded just a little rough. “Let’s get you out of here.”

It took another hour or so. Hyun-ju had to sign papers, and then Gyeong-seok had to sign papers. Her doctor walked through the first steps of aftercare with her again, her first string of follow-ups. He didn’t send Gyeong-seok away for this, and neither did Hyun-ju, although her ears burned when certain topics were discussed. Gyeong-seok, bless him, didn’t react to any of it, simply listened attentively. Helped her transfer from the bed to a wheelchair, slung her bag and purse around his shoulder. Eased her into the back of the taxi, asked the driver to please drive carefully in obviously rehearsed Thai. She remembered leaving the hospital after her top surgery, proud, and happy, but in pain. Alone. Found this to be a definite improvement. Still, she was exhausted by the time they made it into the house. Gyeong-seok settled her on the living room couch, prepped with plenty of pillows and blankets. She sagged into the softness gratefully.

She would have sworn she’d only closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again, the light in the room was suspiciously different. “...Gyeong-seokya?”

“Here.” His voice came from somewhere around the kitchen. He appeared soon enough, holding a towel and an ice pack. “You were pretty out of it. How’s the pain?”

“About a seven,” she grumbled, trying to sit up.

He rushed to help her. Put the ice pack and towel within reach. “Time to take your pain killers anyway. Here.” He pointed at a little standing table next to the couch, which Hyun-ju recognized from the sitting room. It was the one she had next to her reading chair to hold her books. The books were still on it, but there was also a drink, her pain killers, and her cellphone.

She frowned at the drink. She didn’t remember having that in the house. “Did you get that from the hospital?”

“I went shopping.”

“When?” she said dumbly. “Why?”

“Before I came and picked you up. And because you were living like a student,” he tisked. “How else am I supposed to feed you? Are you hungry, by the way?”

“Not very,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling like a bothersome child. Not that Gyeong-seok didn’t have experience in caring for one of those, but still. “I just want to sleep.”

“Meds first.” He opened the drink for her. “And ice for twenty minutes.” He waited while she took her meds, put everything back, and gave her some privacy.

She hissed as she pressed the cold pack between her legs. Groaned when the flash of pain shifted to a dull throb. Realized, after a while, that she had no idea how long she’d been going. Took a guess.

“Put that back. You’re only twelve minutes in.”

Because of course he was timing her. She huffed in annoyance, egged on by the pain. “Going to chew my food for me too?”

“Didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, but I’ll try anything at least once.” He sounded so utterly unperturbed, she wanted to chuck the cold pack at his face.

“Fuck you.” She winced, taken aback by her own sudden temper.

“Not for another three months,” he calmly shot back. He really had paid attention. She flushed with embarrassment.

When the time was up, he came and collected the ice pack. “Need anything else?”

“Just sleep,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket over her, feeling shitty for many reasons. She had a feeling it was going to be a long week.

The next time she woke, she needed to pee. Badly. Gyeong-seok helped her up, only for them to discover she had bled through her bindings and onto the blankets. Nothing majorly concerning, the doctor had warned her about this, but she still felt incredibly icky, doubly so when Gyeong-seok walked her to the bathroom, put her down on the toilet and put everything she needed to redo her dressings close by, while he went and cleaned up. Like that was a perfectly normal thing to do for a boyfriend. Once she was done peeing, which hurt, fuck, and was done cleaning and redressing her wounds, which also hurt only different, she was completely exhausted from the effort. She had to call for help in getting her underwear back up. Which took a while to orchestrate, seeing as she was adamant he kept his eyes closed, even with the dressing already covering everything up. He wrangled her back on a cleaned-up couch, administered her pain medication, brought the cold pack back so she could ice while he warmed up dinner. It was a simple chicken noodle soup, and after a week on hospital fare it was the best thing she had ever eaten. When her arms started trembling halfway through her bowl, Gyeong-seok took over, again, feeding her as if it was the most normal thing to do. As if she was a toddler. And she tried not to feel stupid and silly and weak and useless, but it had never been something she was good at. When he helped her to her room, tucked her in for the night, she drifted off fearing this week was going to be hell.

When she woke up in the morning, she was sore all over, and her bed was red. She couldn’t get her legs to work. The pain medication needed time to kick in, but Gyeong-seok refused to let her lie in her own fluids to wait it out. It led to a bit of a tense standoff. Only after some extremely painful attempts and some incredibly colorful cursing she had picked up during her military days, did Hyun-ju finally admit defeat, and allowed Gyeong-seok to carry her. By the time she was cleaned up and settled on the living room couch, even his clothes needed a wash. She felt dirty. Weak. A burden. It didn’t get better.

She’d watch TV all day, silly K-dramas with the Thai subtitles turned on. She zoned in and out of rest while he would wake her up periodically to feed her, or give her painkillers, or hand her the cold pack and a towel. Would periodically help her walk slowly around the room to get her circulation going, to keep her muscles from cramping up. Would lead her to the bathroom and give her privacy in those awkward and painful moments where she redid her dressings, did the daily damn dilations. He would swap out and wash her sheets and her blankets and her clothes, again and again.

And in return for all this kindness, Hyun-ju would snap at him. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t want to. But it always slipped out. When the pain spiked, when he told her to ice longer, when he scooped her in his arms every morning. Even when he was simply waiting patiently outside the bathroom door without even saying anything. She snapped at him so often she became convinced that the moment she could stand on her own two feet without support, he would pack his bags. Fuck off back home. Never talk to her again. She kept on doing it anyway. And he kept on taking it, undergoing her verbal abuse with a distant resignation that grew the longer it went on. It was terrifying to see, and she needed to stop, she wanted to stop. Couldn’t stop.

When she woke up from a nap somewhere on the fourth day, disoriented on the living room couch, Gyeong-seok was not in immediate sight. This shouldn’t have worried her: he always stayed close. The one time he had left the house was while the nurse had been over yesterday to help her get a complete and thorough wash, to stock up on food. He never even as much as showered before she was safely tucked in for the night. But the house felt oddly quiet, and for an insane moment, she feared him gone.

“Gyeong-seokya?”

The answer took a beat to come, from the direction of the kitchen. “Yes?” He sounded annoyed. As if the space right before had been occupied with a weary sigh. And something inside her lit up, again, lashed out, again.

“What are you doing?” It came out accusatory. As if he wasn’t allowed time away from her. As if he was supposed to sit sentry to jump at her every whim.

“Sketching.” He sounded more level, like he’d checked himself. Somehow, that made it even fucking worse.

“Sketching what?” He didn’t answer right away this time, and now she slid into panic mode. It was like a damn carrousel with her these days. Pain, anger, panic, pain. Worse, she could always feel it happen, when she slipped sideways into the next emotion over, and she still went there anyway. “You better not be drawing me.”

“I’m not.” The annoyance was back, tinging his voice.

She should just shut up. She really ought to just shut up. “Prove it.”

Silence. Footsteps. He’d been further away than the kitchen. He appeared around the couch, carrying his sketch book, pencil tucked behind his ear. There was a tension to his posture that was entirely warranted, if only she was rational enough to admit to it.

“Show me,” she said instead.

He raised an eyebrow. “And how do we ask for that?”

Oh he did not just go full on appa mode on her. Hyun-ju almost threw her pillow at him.

“Please may I see what you are drawing,” she grit out.

He gave her another look, utterly unimpressed with her attitude. Handed her the sketchbook.

He’d been drawing Na-yeon. She was sitting in a sandbox, barefoot, with her hands thrown up, pulling a face on account of it being full of sand. He’d been working on it for a while. She could tell by the shading, by the meticulous details on her little dress, on her little strawberry hat.

Hyun-ju’s stomach dropped, taking her temper with. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he said flatly.

“For you having to miss her, on account of me.”

His face remained stoic. “I’d rather you apologize for snapping at me. Again.”

She winced. “That’s… that’s fair.” She handed him back the sketchbook. “I am sorry.” She forced herself to face him. “I know I’ve been mean. And unfair. And I don’t mean half the things I say. Less than. I just…” Oh great, now she was crying. Did this carrousel ever fucking stop. “I don’t even know why I say them.”

And Gyeong-seok, this impossible man, he’d already forgiven her, hadn’t he. His stern stance melting, his face softening as he reached for a tissue, lowering himself to his knees. “I know.” He carefully wiped away her tears, with an intent softness that only made her spill more of them. “You’re in pain. And your hormones are all over the place.”

“Oh sure, blame it on my hormones.” She smiled, making sure he understood she meant it as a joke. “That’s such a man thing to say.”

“Well, maybe not just hormones.” He switched out the soaked tissue for a dry one, caught the last of her tears. “You don’t do well with relinquishing control.”

Hyun-ju gasped in mock astonishment. “Who told you?” She took a shuddering breath. “You’re right. I’m not dealing well with this at all. I’m the worst patient ever.”

“Nah.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “You didn’t even puke on me once. And your TV choices are a lot less nerve grating.” Her cheeks finally dry, he pulled away.

“I really am sorry.” She reached up, locked her fingers around his wrist. He stilled, allowed her to remove the tissue, to slide her hand in his. It seemed they never touched anymore. Not outside of necessity. “And you were right. I could never have done this alone.”

He smiled fully then, eyes dipping down in a poor attempt to hide it. “Hey. I got the easy part here. I didn’t get cut open. Be kind to your body. Give it time.”

She gently tugged him closer, leaned her forehead against his. “You’re too nice to me.”

“And you’re too mean to yourself,” he whispered back.

“And to you,” she added.

“And to me,” he agreed.

She allowed herself to just stay there, for a moment. To breathe in his scent. His calm. “It’s a lovely drawing. You must miss her.”

“Painfully so,” he admitted freely. “But I know she is being cared for. I know she’s safe.”

She pulled away, instantly regretting the distance, even with his hand still in hers. “Have you ever been away from her this long?”

“Only during the games.”

Fuck. She should have realized that. She shouldn’t have let him come. “I’m sorr—"

“No.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t be. Not about that.” He smiled at her. “You deserve to be cared for. Same as everybody else.”

She wanted to pull him in again, hug him, but she knew it would be a bad idea. She felt like an open wound all over. Hugging him now would only lead to pain, and to tears, and she already felt so empty. “Can I see the rest of your drawings, please?”

Something immensely pleased slipped into his smile then. Something proud. He carefully settled next to her on the couch, his sketch book in his lap, and she wondered why the fuck she had never asked him before. It was such a big part of him. Yet again, when had she ever seen him draw anything outside of work? When had she ever known him to draw someone outside of herself, which she hadn’t wanted to see, or their lost friends, who she also hadn’t wanted to see, but had needed more than she had realized? The drawings he showed her now were happier. Lighter. Hyun-ju was never very artistic, yet another thing she had never been encouraged in. But she knew talent when she saw it. Could recognize when it came from a place of love, when it had been patiently honed into skill.

There were a lot of sketches of Na-yeon. Some quick ones, obviously doodled out absent mindedly, others more detailed. In all of them, Na-yeon was smiling, or laughing, except one where she was full on scowling, obviously not getting her way.

Hyun-ju carefully traced the linework of her jaw. “She looks like you. She does,” she insisted when he chuckled softly. “You both tense up your jaw the same way, when you get stubborn. And when she works on her drawings, she gets that same intense look of concentration.” He’s gone still beside her, in a way that made her keep going. “When she scolds me about something, it’s in her very best appa voice. I always struggle to keep from laughing. And when you two walk next to each other, it’s even the same gait.” She gently pressed into his side. “Have I told you lately you’re doing an amazing job with her? Even when I know it doesn’t feel like it? Especially when it doesn’t feel like it? Because I don’t think we tell you enough.”

He stayed still for a moment longer. Moved the sketch book from his lap to hers, maneuvered carefully until he was pressed against her back, chin resting on her shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered.

She leaned into him, pressed her cheek against his. His arms stayed down, careful not to touch her anywhere painful, but it’s the closest they had been to hugging, not counting those embarrassing morning moments when he carried her. He was so warm, so soft. Everything about him was always so soft. The world didn’t deserve him. Hells, she didn’t deserve him, but here he was anyway. “Show me the rest?”

He flipped the page, resting the book back into her lap.

This page was all about a cat. A skittish scrawny thing, more ears and eyes than face, with a ratty tail. There were multiple quick sketches of her: Hiding under bushes with wide eyes. Crouched low with flat ears. Perked up and ready to bolt.

“She comes into your garden around nightfall,” he said by way of explanation.

“Really? How come I’ve never spotted her before?”

“Maybe she smells my amazing cooking,” he smiled. Pressed together like they were, she could feel it against her own cheek, and she couldn’t help but smile along.

“Park Gyeong-seok, are you feeding strays in my garden?”

“You know me,” he murmured, sounding only slightly guilty. “Can’t resist a cute face.”

“Can’t resist a stray, you mean.”

He hummed, pressed his nose against her ear. “Now what did we say about being nice to yourself?”

“Stop using your appa voice on me,” she grumbled. She was sure he could feel her flush.

“I’ll stop using it when you stop being childish,” he teased. But he resumed flipping through the drawings. There were even more sketches of Na-yeon. Next followed some obvious studies, of plants, of birds, of hands which looked to Hyun-ju suspiciously like her own. He hesitated slightly before flipping to the next page. “You did say I was allowed to draw you.”

She stared. “I did.” It wasn’t the drawing she had sat for, the week before she left. This one must have been drawn from memory, because she had never worn that tracksuit after, never would again. But he hadn’t drawn her fearful, for being in the games. He’d made her look strong. Standing straight, staring head on, as if she was ready to face anything. And she looked beautiful. Even though her hair was up in that messy ponytail, her bangs sticking to her forehead. Was this how he saw her? How he’d always seen her?

“When was this?”

He took a long beat to answer. “In my dreams.”

She turned to look at him, but he pulled back, hiding his face against her shoulder. “You dream about me in the games?”

“…I dream about the games first.” He whispered it, painfully shy. “And then I dream you come and save me.”

She felt her throat close up. It was nice to know he needed her too. As terrifying as that was. “You draw beautifully.”

He smiled into her shoulder. “It’s easy when the subject is already beautiful.” But she could tell he was pleased, that he was trying to hide behind a compliment.

“Thank you for showing me these. I’m glad you’re making time for this again. It’s important to you.”

“You’re important to me,” he murmured. So honestly, so without hesitation, that she almost choked up again. He cleared his throat. “How’s the pain?”

She gratefully latched on to the topic change. “I could use another painkiller. And I should probably pee.” She sighed. “And I’m kind of hungry. I’m sorry, I’m a lot of work.”

“Now what did we talk about?” He tisked, pressing his nose against her ear again. “Be nice.”

If her body wasn’t focused solely on healing, it probably would have done something to her. “This is nice,” she whispered, keeping him there just a while longer. “Can we watch a movie like this tonight?”

“Whatever you want.” There was a pause after his words, as if the sentence had been left unfinished. The space had a familiar shape to it, something that didn’t click until coming back out of the bathroom. He hadn’t called her gonjunim. Like he was afraid to… no. Not afraid. Like he was refusing to assume their relationship. Like he’d not only read up on the physical and mental side effects about her surgery but also had understood something fundamental. That Hyun-ju would be changed in more ways than one. That he therefore couldn’t expect everything to return to how things had been. But she was also still her. She had always been her. In a sense, she was more like herself now than she had ever been. And she was beyond sure that it was this core part of her that loved him. That abhorred this distance, wanted him to claim her as his own regardless of anything. Another part of her was so very grateful for his patience. For what he was giving her.

She flipped through the selection on TV while he cooked, trying to find something light, not overly romantic, but also not entirely unromantic. She heard him complain under his breath about her lack of spices, heard him open the patio door to probably sneakily feed that cat again. She was going to end up with some insistent demands for food after he went back home. She wasn’t about to start cooking, not even for a cat.

After he fed her japchae, she had no idea where he even managed to get sweet potato noodles from, she moved her many blankets to give him room on the couch.

Instead of sitting down right away, he looked her over. “Would it make you feel better if you could put some make-up on?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Are you saying I look horrible?”

He sighed. “Hyun-juna, please listen to what I am saying, not to what you are assuming.”

She forced herself to consider his words without her filter of self-doubt imposed over them. “Well… yeah, I would, but it would probably tire me out too much. Why, are you offering? That was a joke!” she hurried, when he nodded decisively and moved to the bathroom.

He was back fairly quickly. “Alright, I may not know the first thing about make-up, but I’d be a poor excuse for an artist if I can’t color inside the lines.” He held up her nail polish selection. “Which color?”

Pure affection welled up. She didn’t deserve… no. She had to stop telling that to herself. She did deserve him. And he deserved her.

“Well, if you’re really offering, black goes with everything. Don’t shake it!” She cried out, a millisecond too late. He sheepishly froze. Sheepishly sat down next to her.

“Give me your hand?”

Her breath hitched when she slid her hand into his upturned palm. Which was insanity. She’d had sex with this man. It shouldn’t be so earth shattering to be touched by him, just like this.

With artistic precision, face on intense mode, he painted her nails one by one. “What?” he asked, feeling her gaze on him.

“That’s exactly the face I was talking about,” she smiled. “When Na-yeon is concentrating on her art.”

He didn’t take his eyes off his work, but the corner of his mouth tilted up. “Are you calling yourself a work of art?”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer. Focused on him as he worked. His strokes were careful, but confident. “You’re good at this. Did you practice on Na-yeon?”

“Are you nuts? It’s the other way around, I’m practicing on you for her.” She laughed. “I’m serious! Do you know how strict she is? She demands utter perfection. Stop laughing, you’re making me mess up!” Now they were both laughing, and he had to pause until they were back to being collected, totally serious adults.

When he was done with her hands, much too soon, she could stand to have him hold her hands forever, he surprised her yet again by sitting down on the floor. He settled there as if it was nothing at all, to lower himself at her feet. Painted her toenails with the same care and precision. When he was done, he looked up with such a proud smile it made her snort, which turned into full blown laughter when his face morphed into confused indignancy.

“What?”

“I changed my mind,” she gasped, clutching at her stomach because laughing was beginning to hurt, damnit. “It’s you who looks like Na-yeon, not the other way around. Stop making me laugh,” she begged, when he crossed his arms with a mock huff, sticking out his tongue.

They watched a movie, after her nails were dry. Snuggled together, Hyun-ju against his chest, pressed against his heartbeat. She could fall asleep like this. Almost did fall asleep like this. But she forced herself to stay awake. She didn’t want to miss this moment.

She was already missing him.

***

Gyeong-seok frowned at the ceiling of the guest room as if it held the answers to the universe and was refusing to give them up. Lined up the truths of his current life as if that would convince the ceiling to clear all of it up.

Truth number one. He was utterly, and completely, in love with this woman. In a slightly terrifying way that was steadily convincing him this was going to be a lifelong thing. Which, yes, he had thought about someone else once before. But when he looked back at that Gyeong-seok across the years, that man seemed almost a stranger. Someone who had fallen for someone without even learning how to be friends.

Fact two. Fact two, he restated firmly, as his mind tried to shy away from it. Hyun-ju loved him. Which, yes, he had also once believed about someone else before. But, and this was vitally important, that wasn’t Hyun-ju’s fault. He couldn’t latch insecurities of his past onto her. He had to trust that what she was showing him, no matter how pain addled at times, was genuine.

Fact three. He had to go back soon. For Na-yeon, and… well. Mostly for Na-yeon. But also because he knew he couldn’t keep hovering around Hyun-ju. That no matter how much he wanted to take care of her while she healed, that it wouldn’t be fair to keep encroaching upon her space. That there was still a chance, tiny as it was, that at the end of this, she would choose… something else. The silent admission was enough to elevate his heartbeat, his breathing. The possibility terrifying to the point where he wanted to kneel down at her feet and beg her for clarity. Which would be pathetic, and pushy, and entirely unfair. He focused on his breathing. In, and hold, out, and hold. Like she showed him. Stared at the ceiling until he had made a decision.

He was going to give her space. And then he was going to come back. And when he did, he was going to woo her again. Like she deserved to be.

And if, at the end of it, she still saw him in her future the way he saw her… well. He could only be so fucking lucky.

Chapter Text

By the end of the week, Hyun-ju could get up on her own without hurting herself, as long as she didn’t rush. She was walking careful rounds through the house on her own. Even better, she had stopped bleeding on everything. Which was not a moment too soon, because Gyeong-seok’s departure date was coming up.

“See?” She lowered herself on a chair at the table, only wincing slightly. “I’m doing much better. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Gyeong-seok frowned, serving up dinner. “What if you fall? What if you wake up with an infection and you can’t make it to the hospital?”

She did her best to keep the annoyance out of her face. Reminded herself that this wasn’t him not trusting her to take care of herself. That Gyeong-seok had years of experience with worst case medical scenarios. “I’ll keep my phone on me at all times,” she promised. “The nurse is coming back twice next week, and I have a follow up in three days. If anything at all seems off, I’m sure they’ll insist on keeping me under surveillance.”

His jaw was doing that tense thing, as he started stabbing at his food. “I don’t like leaving you alone like this.”

Then stay. She didn’t say it. She couldn’t demand him to drop everything for the remainder of her recovery period. Na-yeon needed him home. And there was a deeper, more longing thought there that she deliberately did not look at. If she did, she’d probably end up on the flight back home with him.

“You just don’t want me to revert to take out,” she joked, trying to make light.

He raised an eyebrow. “Just who do you think you’re…” he pointed a thumb at her freezer. “I prepped you enough for the first week.”

Because of course he did. Of course. She put her chopsticks down, reached across the table. He took her hand almost automatically, shot her a surprised look.

“You’re amazing. Thank you. For everything.” He stared at her adorably flustered. “You made this so much easier than it could have been.” And I missed you. And I will miss you again. So fucking much.

She didn’t say it.

***

Gyeong-seok: Someone convince me not to quit my job.

Yong-sik:…Don’t quit your job?

Dae-ho: Quit your job and move to Thailand.

Jun-hee: Dae-hoya!

Dae-ho: What? We are all thinking it!

Geum-ja: What’s going on? Is Hyun-ju alright?

Gyong-seok: She’s making good progress, but I really don’t want her to be alone already.

Dae-ho: Easy fix. Quit your job.

Jun-hee: You are not helping.

Geum-ja: Ahhh that poor girl. I’ll come over!

Gyeong-seok: You sure?

Geum-ja: It’s no trouble! I’ll make sure she rests, and I can cook for her and keep the house clean.

Gi-hun: I’ll book you a flight. Give me a date. I’ll drop you off at the airport.

Geum-ja: Gyeong-seokya, you are flying back Sunday, yes? If we don’t want to leave uri ttal alone, I’ll best come over Saturday.

Gyeong-seok: You’re absolutely sure about this?

Dae-ho: Gyeong-seokya, from one idiot to another. Shut up. Also Na-yeon wants me to ask you if you got her a present.

Gi-hun: All set. Geum-ja-shi, your ticket is in your mailbox.

***

Hyun-ju did agree with Gyeong-seok’s opinion about her, even if she would never admit to it out loud. She wasn’t the kindest when it came to herself. A part of her did, deep down, believe she didn’t deserve this care. Why else would she promptly start crying when Geum-ja appeared at her doorstep? Her first instinct had been to snap at Gyeong-seok again, for setting her up, for going behind her back, but Geum-ja shut that down with swift motherly fire. It made Hyun-ju cry even more. She blamed it on the hormones. Apologized to Gyeong-seok, again. Thanked him, again. Hugged him when the taxi came to pick him up. Had to force herself let him go.

Geum-ja turned out to be an even stricter nurse than he had been, constantly hovering around her like a worried hen. Hyun-ju’s follow-up appointment revealed she was healing nicely on schedule, and the doctor cleared her to leave the house, albeit supervised. They took slow walks around the neighborhood, Geum-ja hanging on her arm for needed support, but actually making sure Hyun-ju didn’t walk too fast, didn’t overexert herself. Geum-ja made it a personal mission to dip into all the local stores, all the while chattering to Hyun-ju in loud Korean. They got some funny looks, but Hyun-ju didn’t care. When she was told by a shop keeper that her mother was charming and hilarious, she didn’t correct him.

And when, on the evening before Geum-ja was due to fly back, Dae-ho appeared at her doorstep with a big grin and a trunk full of Korean snacks, was she even really surprised? These people. These amazing people that were hers. It almost hurt, the way it made her heart swell.

Now three weeks post op, she was able to move around more freely, show Dae-ho around properly. He’d never been on a holiday abroad before, and he took to Thailand like an overexcited puppy at a playground. He wanted to see everything, do everything, and so she took him to all the touristy places, and the places in between the touristy places. Her favorite addresses to eat. And, since he kept insisting on seeing everything, she even took him to the queer bar she had started to somewhat frequent, before her operation.

When she stepped inside, she was bowled over by the number of people who came over to check up on her, to worriedly ask her where she had been. To congratulate her with excited screams when they learned why she’d been absent. Dae-ho, who was not well versed in Thai at all, but got by with talking overly loud along with a lot of enthusiastic hand waving, charmed the fuck out of everyone. When some of her new friends asked Hyun-ju if he was maybe her boyfriend, she realized she’d never told them about Gyeong-seok, and what a major fucking oversight that was. When she showed them a couple of pictures, more squealing happened, of an entirely different variety. And once Dae-ho realized what was happening and revealed he also had the cutest kid in the universe, Hyun-ju found herself facing downright threats. Woman if you do not lock this man down right now, someone else will. She tried to laugh it off. Didn’t entirely succeed.

Also, Dae-ho got hit on. A lot. By multiple genders. He was mostly confused about this, partly flattered, but when a man whispered in broken Korean that he was cute, could he maybe get his number, Dae-ho’s brain fully shut down, and Hyun-ju had to apologize on his behalf, sit him down while he rebooted. Her new friends laughed so hard they cried.

She called Gyeong-seok on Thursday. Na-yeon’s test results had come back showing her healing had slowed. She talked him out of a panic spiral, reminding him that any progress was still progress, that Na-yeon wouldn’t be scream-singing in the background if she was actually doing that much worse. She knew a part of him wouldn’t breathe easy until she was finally, finally cleared. Knew a part of him didn’t dare hope until he would see it, black on white. Knew it could take months, still.

When Dae-ho flew back at the end of the week, she was well through the worst of it. She still had to get intimate with the cold pack on occasion, still had checkups in the immediate future, and there were certain things regarding to maintenance that she would have to keep doing the rest of her life. But she was well enough to start feeling antsy about sitting still. She’d always had an active lifestyle, an active career. The more her body healed, the more she started roaming around again. She looked into queer friendly gyms. Started training, staying carefully within her limits. Somewhere along the line, she befriended some of the trainers. Ended up subbing a couple of times for a self defense class. Found herself making more friends.

And, much like Dae-ho, she got hit on. A lot. Like, an absurdly lot. Most of them immediately apologized when she said she was taken, but it still shook her a little. Every time she had to say ‘I have a boyfriend,’ she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she would be able to say it. Because the nagging truth that was growing right alongside her progress, was that she could see herself staying. For good. South Korea was where she had been born, yes, but here, she had been reborn. And the longer she stayed, the more she found that the only things she truly missed, were the people. Him.

She’s always been the type to have friendships freeze, in that pleasant way where you could not see them for ages, yet when you saw each other again, no time seemed to have passed at all. So she wasn’t worried about losing her newfound friendships. If she did end up staying, she could be the cool friend with the vacation home. They could crash at her place and she could play tour guide, entertain them, catch up over dinner. But a relationship was different. Long distance tended to end in only one of two ways. If she could still call it that. If they were even still technically dating.

They hadn’t kissed, while he was taking care of her. Not even once. She’d been too uncomfortable, in too much pain, too out of sorts. In the weeks since, over the phone, they hadn’t even flirted. A part of her knew she had to be honest about the possibility that they had slipped back into a comfortable friendship, rather than a courtship. And if that was what he wanted, then that would be alright. Painful, yes, heartbreaking, yes. But alright.

She was going to have to consider it honestly, before her recovery time was up. Now two months post-op, her body had started to settle, her hormones balancing out. Her follow ups showed consistent improvement. The dilations were no longer painful. She still had a ways to go, but every day she felt more like herself than she had in weeks. Months. Years. A lifetime, really. And she knew, she knew that she loved Gyeong-seok. That as far as she was concerned, this could be it for her, for the rest of her life. But she also knew how plenty of relationships ended. What she’d been told by friends, by family, by so many people she had once thought would be in her life forever. You’re different now. You’ve changed.

And then, almost out of the blue, Gyeong-seok asked if he could come over for a long weekend. Thursday evening through Sunday evening. She said yes. Of course she said yes. She hadn’t seen him in six weeks. Was it really any wonder her heart soared the way it did, when he walked out of that airport terminal, hair slightly mussed up from travel? She ached to run her hands through it and fix it. To pull him in and kiss him. She would do neither of those things. It wouldn’t be fair. Not to herself. Not to him. There would be no assumptions made this weekend, not on her part.

He scanned the crowd with a little frown, which instantly melted away when he spotted her, a smile blooming across his face, lighting up his eyes. He rushed to her, and she clasped her hands together, to keep herself from pulling him into a hug. “Hi,” he breathed, so so happy to see her. Checking her out with part concern, part… something else. “You look great.”

“I feel great,” she said, wincing at the admission that she wasn’t pining away over here, without him.

But he didn’t take it as a slight. Seemed honestly happy just to be there, with her. Talked about Na-yeon’s latest antics, his trip over, asked her how defense classes were going. Installed himself in the guest room like before, without hesitation. She did spot him throwing a curious glance at the door to the third bedroom, which she had kept closed throughout his first visit, and was keeping closed now as well. But he didn’t pry. He did sigh wearily at the state of her fridge. And he showed zero remorse when she caught him stocking her spice cabinet with things he had brought along in his luggage.

And when he spotted the new cat bed in her living room, complete with scrawny visitor snoozing in it, he threw his head back and laughed so loud the cat jolted awake and shot under the couch in fright. He immediately dropped to the floor to make apologetic crooning noises. The damn cat clearly recognized him. Came out right away to demand head buts. Hyun-ju was going to have a contender for his affections.

“What’s her name?” Gyeong-seok asked, scritching behind a well-mangled ear.

“Wangja. Turns out it’s a he.”

“Ahh, I’m sorry,” he apologized seriously to the cat. “Better get him neutered.”

“Good thing I know a guy,” she said. Delighted in his shocked little laugh.

“You must be feeling better if you can joke about it.” His genuine smile warmed her to her toes. “I’m glad.”

She fed him a late dinner, which would probably have been more impressive if it wasn’t one of his own meals from the freezer. They retired to their separate beds, and if Hyun-ju had some issues getting herself to sleep knowing he was only one room over, then he never needed to know that.

When she woke, he was already in the kitchen. Cooking her breakfast, cheerfully ignoring her protests, dodging a loudly meowing Wangja who kept weaving around his legs, scolding the cat in gentle appa mode. She was amazed all over again how much she liked this man. How easy it was, to be friends with him. How cozy, and soothing, and fun it was to simply hang out with him. The only difficult part turned out to be abstaining from pushing him against the nearest wall to snog him senseless.

It took her an embarrassing amount of time to notice.

She had a checkup planned that Friday morning. She’d tried to move it once Gyeong-seok had asked her about the weekend, but the hospital schedule had been too full. She told him he could wait back home if he wanted to. She knew he didn’t like hospitals. But he insisted on coming with, to keep her company. Told her when she went in that he’d wait in the cafeteria. She had no idea how he had managed it, but when she found him there sitting at a table for two, he sneakily handed her an outside coffee. Insisted on pulling out her chair for her. They lingered for a while, discussing her appointment and progress, when he suddenly put his hand on the table as she talked, palm up. She only realized she’d slipped her hand in his without thinking about it when he smiled, with a glint to it she couldn’t place.

She didn’t put it together.

They went to a restaurant that evening. Which was a totally normal thing to do when friends came over, she’d done it with Geum-ja and Dae-ho. Even if it did feel a bit odd for Gyong-seok to suggest food outside of the house. He was a perfect gentleman, pulling out her chair for her again, complimenting her dress. Kept distracting her with that slightly off kilter smile. She had more than an inkling he was checking her out as well.

Back home, they watched a movie. Started up on opposite ends of the couch. She couldn’t be sure who moved when, only that they ended pressed together, comfortably sharing warmth. Wangja claimed Gyeong-seok’s lap, and promptly fell asleep. It was adorable, and Hyun-ju was not at all jealous.

It wasn’t until Saturday morning that it all clicked. When she walked out of the bathroom to find Gyeong-seok humming softly to himself as he puttered around in the kitchen, picnic basket on the counter. He was recreating their dates. She hurriedly retreated back into the bathroom. Stared at herself in the mirror until her heartbeat somewhat slowed. Decided she reallu should do something with her hair. Maybe go with a nice pink for her lips. She opted for a more flowy dress. Something that showed off her legs.

Gyeong-seok carried the basket, while she carried the blanket. They walked to the park together, found themselves a perfect spot under a tree. He hadn’t cooked too much of a selection this time. Still, all of them were things she liked. He looked perfectly content sitting there, watching her eat, listening to her stories, with that peculiar slight smile she now knew meant he was up to something. It warmed her deeper than the sun did, to know he was still interested. To know there were still things about him left to learn. It also didn’t help her internal temperature that he had left two whole buttons on his shirt undone. She was halfway through telling him how some of the boys at the queer bar still asked her when Dae-ho was coming back, when Gyeong-seok turned up her temperature even further. She stuttered to a halt as his eyes dipped down to her lips, her neck, roaming over her cleavage, shamelessly checking her out, down to her legs. He lingered there, before looking back up. He didn’t say it out loud this time, but she still remembered. How he had called her beautiful. Flushed when his smile broadened, as if he could read her mind.

She remembered how to breathe. “What… what was I talking about?”

He chuckled softly. “Dae-ho being popular.”

“Eh. Yes.” She fumbled to pick up the threads. “You should have seen him when one of them asked for his…” the threads slipped from her grasp again as he reached forward and closed his fingers around her heel. She stared as he pulled her foot in his lap, as he started massaging it. Closed her eyes and made peace with the knowledge that words weren’t happening any time soon. When she let out a pleased little sound, he chuckled. Cheeky bastard.

It was only when his hands slid up to her calves, those damn fingers working magic on her muscles, that she realized her first instinct hadn’t been to pull away. To look around in worry. That she didn’t have to. That it was perfectly alright for them to simply exist, out in the open.

She never did finish the story. They did finish all the food. He packed up, while she put her sandals on. They were leaving the park, him telling a story about Na-yeon experimenting with expressive art through the medium of markers on his windows, when she slipped her hand in his. He stuttered to a stop, both in talking and walking, eyes snapping to their joined hands. It was vindicating, to have him be the flustered one for once. Exhilarating, to be hand in hand in public. Out where everyone could see. To show the world that he was hers, and she was his. She gently tugged him onward, towards home. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them let go until they were back in the house.

And she wanted him to kiss her. Like that first night on the balcony, when her whole world had started to shift by the press of his lips against hers. But he didn’t. She knew it wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Saw it confirmed when they put everything away in the kitchen, washed up together. They ended up sidestepping each other in the same direction, ended up almost nose to nose. Hyun-ju would swear they froze like that forever, before he swayed away, muttered something about being clumsy. Where he’d gripped the counter his muscles had been tout, his knuckles white.

He was waiting for her.

On Sunday, their last day together, not even a full day since he would fly back in the afternoon, she did something incredibly stupid. She overslept. And for a moment, he was nowhere. His toothbrush no longer on her sink, his room empty and tidied, the kitchen silent.

She found him in the sitting room. At the window, sketch book in his lap, almost glowing in the sunlight. He looked up startled as she all but barged in, freezing in the doorframe.

“…I thought I lost you.” And she knew how ridiculous it was the moment she blurted it out. How completely unfair it was, since she was the one who had actually left. Who was considering not returning at all.

But he’d simply smiled. “I’m right here.” Returned to his sketching in the late morning light. He fit into that room like it was made for him. Like he belonged here. And she ached with it. Wanted to run and lock the doors. Keep him forever.

They were supposed to go out that day, but she didn’t remind him of the time. Settled into her chair in the room with him, pretending to read. Watched him sketch with that content look on his face, the one he got when he was, not a such getting lost in his art, but rather was busily finding something. He looked peaceful. It was a good look on him. She wanted him to look just like that forever.

Too soon, much too soon, she accompanied him to the airport. When they walked into the building, she slipped her hand in his again. His steps only faltered slightly this time, his fingers tightening in hers.

When the moment came they had to let go, say goodbye, he suddenly looked so shy. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.” And she didn’t know what the future would bring. But she knew she wanted him in it.

She leaned in. Made up the difference in one go. When her lips touched his he practically melted against her in clear relief. It was soft. Careful. Above all, it was hopeful. She wrapped her arms around him before pulling back. Found him to be trembling. Found there were so many things she wanted to tell him. That she loved him. Was going to miss him. Wanted to tell him sorry, for making him wait so long.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he breathed, grinning dazedly, looking so so happy.

She kissed him again. This time, he surged into it, pulling her flush against him. He kissed her deeply, tasted her shamelessly, until she was dizzy with it, until her hair was an absolute mess from his hands. Until he almost missed his flight.

Home felt suddenly so empty, without him. Without his shoes in her hallway. Until she noticed Wangja was playing with a folded piece of paper. She rescued it from him only slightly chewed on. It was one of Gyeon-seok’s sketches. One she hadn’t seen before. Of her. She was standing, nursing a coffee, staring off into the distance, hair still mussed from sleeping. He’d folded it so the creases didn’t mar the drawing.

She went to put it on the table, safely out of reach of Wangja, only to find another folded sketch. Her, sitting on the picnic blanket, with her dress bunched up above her knees, smiling like she had just told a funny story. She smoothed it out with trembling fingers. Did a thorough search of the house.

She found the next one between the cushions of the living room couch; her, sitting on said couch, a content looking Prince on her lap, getting double ear scritches. Another wedged behind her make up mirror; peering into said mirror with a little frown, trying to get her make up right. In the drawing room on her reading chair: reading a book propped open against her pulled up knees, fiddling with a strand of hair like she did sometimes when the story turned deep.

Was this what he had been drawing all weekend? Was this how he saw her? She looked so… nice. In a way she couldn’t entirely articulate. Not until she found the envelope. He had stuck it to the fridge with the same magnet she had used for his welcome message, two whole visits ago. It had her name on it. Inside, there was another sketch. She could tell this one was different before she unfolded it; he’d added a date to the back. Somewhere after the games. Before their first kiss.

It was three sketches, not one. Jyun-ju recognized herself as she had been in the games. Wary, hair tied back, bangs sticking to her forehead. Serious and commanding, holding a rifle. Smiling, somewhat shyly, looking out of the page. These sketches were less worked out. Bare bones. Unfinished. Like her.

Put together with the others the difference was almost unsettling. She had known her body had been softening since getting back on her regular estrogen, since the surgery. But change had been gradual, hard to track from day to day, no matter how scrutinizing she frowned into her mirror. In these recent sketches, she looked nice. More than nice. Feminine, in her very own way. And she knew he hadn’t embellished anything for her sake. Had drawn her just the way he saw her. Doing all these ordinary mundane things. Looking peaceful. Living a life that was hers.

There was one more slip of paper in the envelope. A note. ‘I’m happy to see you so happy here.’

She put it down over the display of drawings. Stared at them for a long time. Reshuffled them into various setups. She was going to buy a frame. Put these in there. All of them. The old ones belonged to her as well. She could put them on the back. To look at sometimes, to remind her how far she’d come. And it was going to have to be a big frame. With leftover room in, for more happiness to come. She could put it up in the drawing room. She huffed out a chuckle. Yes, drawing room. It had never been a room just for sitting at all.

Hyun-ju: Thank you for the parting gift. I love them. Come back soon?

He replied as soon as he had landed.

Gyeong-seok: I think that can be arranged. How long would I be allowed to stay?

Forever. She almost typed it. Almost.

***

Gyeong-seok slipped his phone away. Tucking his smile out of sight was decidedly harder. Not that he tried very hard.

Gi-hun was waiting for him at his usual spot outside arrivals, like a loyal sentinel. “Had a good trip then? How is she?”

“She’s doing good. Better than good. Thank you for picking me up.”

Gi-hun grunted, in that annoyed way parents do when they’re thanked for something they consider bare standard. Surprised Gyeong-seok with his next question, which was more personal than he had come to expect from the man. “And how are you two doing?”

Gyeong-seok tried to think of the right words. “We’re doing… hopeful.”

Gi-hun nodded, unlocking the car. Waited for Gyeong-seok to toss his luggage in the trunk and settle into the passenger seat. “Did she say anything about when she was going to come back?”

Gyeong-seok took a beat to answer. “We both know she’s not coming back.”

Gi-hun went silent until they were out of the parking garage, clearly looking for the correct thing to say. “…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Gyeong-seok said, honestly. “It’s better for her there. Much better. She’s happy.”

The drive continued for a while in silence, until Gi-hun surprised him again. “What about you? Are you happy?”

“I… believe that our happiness doesn’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

He thought he had succeeded in keeping it vague enough, but Gi-hun still hummed in an altogether too knowing way. “Does this mean you might need help looking into a Thai visa?”

“Might be a bit premature.” Gyeong-seok smiled, slightly caught out. “But it can’t hurt to consider the options.”

Chapter Text

“Appa! You’re home!” Na-yeon barreled into Gyeong-seok with the force and timing commonly observed in kids and dogs, knocking him over while he was taking off his shoes.

“Oof!” Gyeong-seok went down on his rump, arms full of Na-yeon. “Be careful with your appa please!” But he was grinning, hugging her tight.

“I missed you!”

“I was only gone for three days.” He managed to stand up with her in his arms. “But I missed you too.”

“Did you get me a present?”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded. “So that’s why you missed me.”

“Appaaaa! I did miss you! But did you get me a present?”

He chuckled at her insistence. “Not this time darling, no. Did you have fun with halmeoni and samchon?”

“Yes.” She snuggled against his chest with a dramatic sigh. “But I still missed you.”

His heart melted. “Same.”

Dae-ho and Jun-hee had hung back to give them their moment. “Welcome back man. How’s Hyun-ju doing?” Dae-ho asked.

“She’s doing good. Really good.” To keep the conversation from turning the way it had with Gi-hun, Gyeong-seok tilted his head. “What’s this I hear about you being real popular over in Thailand?”

It worked better than he had expected. Dae-ho instantly started sputtering. “That’s not… I’m… she’s exaggerating!” he turned on his heel and practically stormed off. “Baby needs me, xcuse me.”

“Don’t mind him,” Jun-hee said. “He’s been weird about it since he came back. I’ve been trying to talk to him about it, but…” she shrugged helplessly. “Anyway, did you have a good trip?”

“I did. Thank you for watching over Na-yeon.”

“Any time, you know that.” Jun-hee gave him a look. “And if you want to talk about things not related to Na-yeon, you have our number, yes?”

He smiled at the clear invitation. Jun-hee wasn’t blind, but she never pried. “I know. I appreciate it.”

“Appa you need to go back soon,” Na-yeon mumbled against his chest.

“I do? Why?”

“Yes,” she pouted. “Because you forgot to get me a present.”

Jun-hee chuckled. “And the fact that Geum-ja and Yon-sik took you to the zoo and to the museum has nothing to do with this, does it?”

Na-yeon perked up. “Appa! Did you know red pandas stick up their paws when they get scared? So they look bigger!” She demonstrated. “See? Now I’m tall!”

“Really tall,” he agreed, grinning,

“Do they have red pandas in Thailand?”

“Ahh, I almost forgot, let me show you, Hyun-ju made a new friend.” He dug out his phone one handed.

In hindsight, he should have probably put her down first. Na-yeon’s squeal was way too close to his ear. “She has a kitty??”

***

Gyeong-seok: I made the mistake of telling Na-yeon about Wangja and now she wants to come over.

Hyun-ju: I mean, she’s very welcome to come over. I miss her. But is she ok to travel?

After a moment of hesitation, she added:

Hyun-ju: I could always ask my doctor if it’s ok for me to visit.

She hit sent, and instantly regretted her choice of words. Visit. You didn’t plan visits to what was supposed to be your home. Thankful, he didn’t pick up on it.

Gyeong-seok: I’ll ask at our next check-up, and we can go from there? But are you sure Na-yeon won’t be too much?

She frowned at the message. Called him. “Can you not talk nonsense?” she said as soon as he picked up. “Na-yeon is never too much.”

“No I meant for Wangja,” he seriously said. “He’s used to being an only child. Won’t he get jealous?”

She snorted. “He’s spoiled rotten. He can learn to deal. He chewed on one of your sketches, you know.”

He gasped. “After everything I did for him.”

She chuckled, scritching the culprit in question, who was currently napping on her lap. He meeped in his sleep. “He showed no remorse either.”

“Sounds like an only child alright.” He paused for a beat. “Hyun-juna?”

“Hm?”

“Regardless if Na-eon is allowed to travel or not… would it be alright if I came over in two weeks?”

How could this man snog her with such abandon and then go so clearly nervous over a question like that? It was beyond endearing. “I might have to move some things around, but I could clear my schedule,” she teased. “Aren’t you fully out of vacation days by now?”

He sounded so happily relieved at her answer, as if she honestly would have even considered saying no. “I am. But Gi-hun has sort of threatened me about accepting help more, and he’s scary.”

She laughed. “A long weekend again, then?” She did her best not to chuckle at his obviously nervous silence. “Or were you thinking longer?”

“…If you’ll have me.” He sounded so painfully hopeful.

Always. This time, she did allow herself to say it. “You are always welcome here. Both of you.” She cleared her throat, shifted to a less loaded topic. “Unrelated to anything, Na-yeon’s favorite color is yellow, yes?

“Please don’t get that kid any more presents,” he groaned. “She’s starting to expect things. But yes, it’s yellow.”

***

Gyeong-seok found himself nervously bouncing his leg outside of the doctor’s office. He knew the odds of Na-yeon’s numbers growing worse became smaller at every testing, but he still got anxious every time. He hated hospitals. At this point, it was probably a lifelong thing. Even though he had asked to discuss the latest test results in person himself. The fact that her doctor had agreed was reason enough for him to worry. Not that he didn’t always worry.

“Mr. Park?”

He startled out of his nervous spiraling. Bowed to the doctor in greeting, sat down in the usual chair. Found himself reaching for his own shoulder, as if he would find Hyun-ju’s there. He missed her. Much like the worrying, that too was now a continuous thing.

“Na-yeon’s numbers continue to improve.” The doctor turned his screen for Gyeong-seok to see. “We’re not completely there yet, but at this rate, her odds of going into remission this year are strong.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Gyeong-seok said, staring at the numbers. Then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Perfectly understandable. It’s been a really long road.” The doctor turned the screen back. “We’ll continue with the three week schedule on adjusted medication. Now, aside from that. How are you doing?”

The question caught Gyeong-seok off guard. “I’m… eh, ok?”

“I’m asking because it’s not easy, returning to a normal life after years of medical turmoil, not in the least for parents.” The doctor raised a hand as Gyeong-seok made to protest. “I know we’re not there yet. But it’s always best to prepare for all scenarios.”

Gyeong-seok forced himself to stay silent, to listen.

“Balance is going to be key,” the doctor went on. “You shouldn’t disinfect every little thing she touches, or worry about every sneeze. Which is, I know, easier said than done. On the other hand, we do highly suggest giving her body time to build things up slow. Her immune system has been through the wringer. As such, I highly suggest not starting her in kindergarten until least a full year after hitting remission. Now I know that’s not academically beneficial…”

“I don’t care,” Gyeong-seok said bluntly.

“Good,” the doctor smiled. “Glad to hear it. You’d be surprised how many parents make their kids do their homework on chemo days to keep them from falling behind.”

“She can’t fall behind, she never even got to start yet,” Gyeong-seok protested. “She still has two full years before she would start elementary school.” School. During the worst times he hadn’t even dared dreaming of her ever making it that far. Even now, the very idea was dizzying.

“And plenty of kids pick up fast, even with only one year in kindergarten. Or, you could opt to homeschool her to make up the deficit. Or have her start late. Point being, there’s options, outside of the normal trajectory.”

“Normal is different for all of us,” Gyeong-seok smiled. Then sobered. “Of course, this all remains speculative.”

“Faith, Mr. Park. Although I know that’s not a small ask.”

***

“So the good news is, Na-yeon’s numbers improved again.” Gyeong-seok chuckled as on his phone screen, Hyun-ju did a little victory dance on the call. “The bad news is, the doctor doesn’t want her to travel yet… You have something in your hair.”

Hyun-ju ran her fingers through her hair until she found it. “It’s paint.”

“Oh? What are you painting?”

“Nothing artistic,” she laughed. “Walls. So, just you then, coming over?”

“I know, it’s disappointing.”

“However will I cope,” she murmured, smiling fondly. It did something pleasant to his heart. “Is she around though? I’d like to say hi.”

“Sure, hang on. Na-yeona, Hyun-ju is on the phone!”

Na-yeon came barreling out of her room, still holding a crayon she forgot to put down. He hastily intercepted it before she started crawling on the couch, to keep from having it turned into limited edition artwork.

“Hyun-jugongju!” Na-yeon cried, plonking herself down heavily into her appa’s lap.

Hyun-ju chuckled, perhaps at her enthusiasm, possibly at his pained face. “Hi! Oh, your hair is getting long!”

Na-yeon happily shook her head, showing off her hair, which had finally gotten to be just below her ears. “I want to have it as long as you! And look, appa did my nails.” She wiggled her fingers at the cellphone to show them off. “He’s not as good as you are, but it’s alright.”

‘I told you’, Gyeong-seok mouthed over his daughter’s head.

Hyun-ju swallowed a snort. “Be nice to your appa, he tries very hard you know.”

Gyeong-seok could feel himself flush.

“I know,” Na-yeon nodded matter of factly. “He’s the best.”

Hyun-ju hummed, catching his gaze. “He is.”

This was highly unfair of them, and he was absolutely going to combust.

“Can I see the kitty?” Na-yeon luckily changed the subject.

“Ah, sorry, Wangja is out right now. But I’ll send you lots of pictures,” she promised. “Are kitties your favorite animals?”

“Bunnies!” Na-yeon exclaimed. “Pink bunnies!”

“Solid choice,” Hyun-ju grinned.

“I just drew one today, I’ll show you!” Na-yeon jumped off her appa’s lap, almost headbutting the phone out of his hands.

“Careful!” But she was already gone. “You got her started now,” he sighed. “She’ll show you every single drawing you missed.”

“I don’t mind,” Hyun-ju smiled.

“I know you don’t.” And that too, did something pleasant to his heart. That she truly liked Na-yeon. That she wasn’t just indulging her. That Na-yeon liked Hyun-ju too. “But I do have to start dinner.”

“Then give her the phone, and go be an appa. I’ll be… Looking at bunnies.”

Gyeong-seok propped up the phone on the dining room table. Na-yeon kept running back and forth to pull out even more drawings, happily chattering to Hyun-ju, who only managed to get one word in for every seven. If he kept his back turned, he could almost pretend she was there. Maybe one day, they would all share a table again. He tried not to burn dinner, as he sketched out hopeful lines of a future.

Na-yeon was not happy when dinner required her to clear the table of her art.

***

When Gyeong-seok stepped out of arrivals this time, the intent showed clear on his face well before his lips locked onto hers. He kissed her like he had missed her, like he was making up for lost time, like he didn’t give a damn who saw. It was overwhelming, but not unwelcome, not entirely surprising.

What was surprising, was the rush of want welling up in Hyun-ju to meet his enthusiasm. That was… new. She was still getting used to this new body, was still giving it time to heal. Not that there hadn’t been… tentative attempts at self-pleasuring. But those had been rather frustrating affairs. Probably on account of her expectations. Definitely on account of her getting in her own head. She’d given up rather fast, assuming things either needed more time, or had muted after the surgery. Which had always been a possibility. There was, however, nothing muted about the warmth pooling in her stomach as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She groaned, stopped herself short of slipping her fingers into his hair. Made herself pull away. “I missed you too,” she admonished him, surprised to find herself slightly breathless.

He grinned apologetically. Behaved the rest of the way home. Like a perfect gentleman. When they got to the house, when he slotted his shoes next to hers in the hallway, it warmed her in a wholly different way.

“Come look at the drawing room,” she pulled him along.

“The drawing room?” he asked puzzled, allowing himself to be pulled. “…Ah.” She suddenly felt a bit sheepish, having him stare at his own sketches, put together in a frame she’d bought special, hanging on the wall facing her reading chair. Until he turned a smile on her that was so wondrously surprised. “You put them up in your house?”

“Of course I did. I love them.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you.” Kissed him, before it fully registered what she had just said out loud. Not that it hadn’t been true before. Not that she hadn’t told him already, in so many different ways.

And she knew he felt the same. Had known for a long time before here, and now, as he broke the kiss to gaze softly into her eyes. “I love you too.”

But it was still nice to hear him say it.

***

Kissing Hyun-ju was a problem. It was a problem, because kissing Hyun-ju led to touching, and touching led to more kissing, and more touching, which had never been a problem before, and Gyeong-seok would be mad if he found it a problem now. Only, only, the thing was, he tried to think coherently, with her teeth currently latched onto his bottom lip. The thing was that she had never explicitly updated any of the original limits. No touching the face. Not below the belt. And he had no idea how to politely check if her… upgrades… came with… upgraded rules. Yeah, no, that was crass. He couldn’t ask her that. He could think of a better way to bring this up, probably, only they were still kissing, and kissing Hyun-ju was a problem, because it made thinking seriously difficult. Especially when she was sucking down on his neck like that, fuck.

“You alright there?” she chuckled. She was sitting sideways on his lap in the living room couch. They had moved here after he’d unpacked, after they’d had some dinner. They were supposed to be watching a movie. They hadn’t even managed the pretense of turning the TV on. Not that nothing wasn’t getting turned on.

“I’m great,” he breathed, turning to capture her lips with his again. Kissing Hyun-ju might be a problem, but he’d be damned if he was going to stop. They didn’t have to figure everything out today. Or even tomorrow. Or even this visit. Or the next. There was plenty of Hyun-ju he was currently allowed to kiss. He could go slow. He didn’t mind slow. Slow could be nice. He trailed soft kisses down her neck. Scraped his teeth over her shoulder, in that particular spot where she liked it best, smiled against her skin as she bit back a moan. He did it again, bringing up a hand, ghosting teasing fingers over a breast until he could feel her nipple harden under her clothes.

He was reminded, quite abruptly, that Hyun-ju didn’t always take kindly to slow. Found himself pinned to the couch with her knee pressed firmly between his legs. He utterly failed at choking back a deep groan, instantly hard against her touch . It had been so long, too long. But when she leaned in to kiss him, he still made himself pull back.

“Hyun-juna…” fuck, he was already breathless. “That’s… that’s not what I came over for.”

She stopped. Raised an eyebrow.

“…That’s not all I came over for,” he admitted.

She grinned, looking too damn pleased by far. He was going to have to talk fast. “You know you don’t have to… You’re not going to fall back into your old habit of only looking after me, right?” he tried gently. “Because I can just as easily wait.”

She looked entirely unimpressed. Glanced meaningfully down at his crotch. “Easily?”

“Easily,” he affirmed. Kissed her, soft, and slow. Took her in his arms to shift her slightly, easing the pressure while keeping her close. When they parted, she looked delightfully flushed. She leaned her forehead against his, stayed like that for a long beat. And this was nice too. Just being close to her like this. Whatever she felt like doing, or not doing, he’d be happy to follow her lead.

She pulled back slightly, took a steadying breath, and locked eyes with him. “I want you. I want you to see me. I want you to touch me.” She placed a single soft kiss on his lips. “Take me to bed?”

He stared at her in clear shock. Searched her face for any sign of doubt. Found that there was none to be found. When she stood up, when she offered him a hand to make him rise, he did find there was a sliver of nerves, dancing around her smile. He stepped in close. Slipped one arm around her shoulders, dipped to hook the other behind her knees. When he picked her up, he could feel the nerves reached far deeper than just her smile. He was going to be so, so careful with her.

***

She thought it would be more frantic. They hadn’t had sex in months now. Four months and two days, not that she had counted. But Gyeong-seok carried her to the bedroom so carefully. Put her down on the bed, took off his shirt, his pants, like they had all the time in the world. Kissed her, unhurried, before sliding her dress off her shoulders, taking his sweet time to take her in, like he was reaffirming her into his memory.

The part of her that was so fucking hungry for him, the part of her that was so so anxious, just wanted it over with. She scrambled to take off her bra as he worked her dress down over her hips. Bit back an annoyed groan as he came up to take the bra off her hands, to gently push her back down on the bed, to hover above her without any part of them touching aside from their lips as he kissed her, again too damned slow.

“Relax gongjunim,” he muttered between kisses, ghosting strong fingers over her arms, her stomach, coming to rest on the hem of her panties. “Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” she gasped, caught between impatience and a rapidly rising panic.

He slowly undressed her, slowly returned to her side. “Can I touch you?” He paused for permission, and she was so taut she couldn’t get it out. She wished he would just get on with it.

He didn’t. “Words.”

“Please,” she choked out. It caught him slightly off kilter. Out of the two of them, she usually wasn’t the one who ended up begging.

He kissed her, slow and open mouthed, just on the side of sloppy, on the side of maddening, while his hand brushed down. His fingers danced across her nipples, caressed her stomach, dipped down across her hip bones. He kissed her one last lingering time, before settling next to her on his side. He gently caught her arm as it was coming up, knowing what she was doing before she’d even really known herself. “Please don’t. Let me see your face, gongjunim. So I can see what you like.”

“It might not work at all,” she gritted out nervously, firmly keeping her expectations low.

He hummed. Her breath hitched as his fingers skittered down over her thigh, as he gently nudged her legs apart. They were trembling, and she knew he could tell. “If you want me to stop,” he began, a worried frown forming between his brows.

“No!” she snapped. “Sorry. Sorry. No.” She huffed, shutting her eyes, bracing herself. She could do this.

“You’re not going into battle, you know.”

She opened her mouth to bite back a retort. Faltered when his fingers finally, finally brushed through the hairs of her mound. And down.

It was… strange.

Nothing like when she did this to herself at all.

Although she had to admit, that the vast difference seemed to be Gyeong-seok’s approach. He was taking his time to explore. Getting a feel of her with feathery touches. It was light. Slightly maddening. But it was also… not not working. Something was definitely stirring. Muted, but undeniably there. Hyun-ju never had that kind of patience with herself. And there had been this blocking fear, that none of it would work the way it had to. Which was impossible to know since she had no frame of reference.

“Still yes?”

“Yes,” she hurried.

“Alright,” he whispered. “Look at me?”

She forced her eyes open. He pulled his hand back up, brought up his index and middle finger to his mouth, and, keeping eye contact, slathered them with his tongue. It was shockingly filthy. She found she couldn’t look away. Found that little twinge of a smile tugging at his lips entirely insufferable, entirely too hot.

Still watching her, he dipped his hand back down. When his wet fingers brushed through her folds, she bucked up with a hiss. It turned into a surprised cry when he brushed her clit. For a flash of a moment, that little smile turned into a pleased grin. Then it was gone again, replaced by a calm look of concentration, as he tried out different movements. Different pressures. Every time she slipped out a little sound, he chased it, got closer to what her new body liked. He drank her reactions like he was trying to get the details right of a drawing. Like he was getting to the essence of her, stroke by maddening stroke.

She felt like she was overheating. Like she was aching without the usual hardness. Like he was going to light her on fucking fire. “How are you…” she gasped, squirming as he added some pressure again. “How…” Another smile broke his look of concentration, but only for a moment. He looked entirely too put together, while she was turning into a trembling mess. And she appeared utterly unable to stop herself from squirming. It was clearly mucking up his aim, to the point where she was getting incredibly agitated with herself. When it happened again, right as he was trying some delightful rapid fluttering, she let out a frustrated string of curses.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in for a soothing kiss. “Talk to me.”

“It’s not you, it’s…” she growled in frustration. “Every time you’re right on target I can’t seem to lie fucking still.”

“So I’m doing something right then,” he chuckled. “Good to know. I could try something else?” He suggestively licked his upper lip, and she jolted from under his fingers all over again.

“You don’t have to…” she faltered under his intense gaze. There was a gleam to his eyes, a tilt to his lips. Something determined. Something hungry.

“Does it look like you’re holding me here against my will?”

“It’s not… exactly the same as…”

This time he shushed her with an insistent kiss. “Every woman is different. Likes different things. We’re both learning, yeah? If it doesn’t feel good, just tell me to stop.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

He meaningfully dipped his eyes down. “Seems to be working just fine from up here.” He looked back up at her, and chuckled. Leaned in for a softer kiss this time. “Stop thinking.”

“I’m trying,” she mumbled, shamefaced.

He hummed, smiling. “Maybe I can help with that too.” He moved down her body. Settled between her legs. He didn’t stop to stare at her, down there, and she was suddenly absurdly grateful for that. He kissed the inside of her thigh, and oh, ticklish… she could feel his smile there, pressed briefly into her skin, before moving on. He went slow, explored her with soft kisses, brief touches of his tongue, following the little hitches in her breath. When he planted a kiss on top of her nub, flicked his tongue out, she bucked up with a sharp gasp.

“Hyun-juna?” He looked up, worried, and she realized her breathing had gone way up.

“Not panicking,” she chuckled. “It’s just… that’s really sensitive…”

His eyes darkened. He dipped his head back down. Fully dragged his tongue over her clit.

“Fuck.” She jolted, detaching herself from his touch again. “Why can’t I just fucking lie still??”

He slid his arms under her thighs, warm hands taking hold of her hips. This time, when he licked her, when her body jolted, she had no way to go but up in his mouth. “Language,” he muttered, but he was smiling, no, scratch that, he was fucking purring, as he licked her again, and again. Lapped at her with languid, broad strokes, like she was the best fucking thing he ever tasted.

It didn’t take long for her to start trembling, to start huffing out sharp little noises. When he suddenly pressed his tongue down with maddening pressure, when his name fell from her lips in a needy whine, he groaned, actually fucking groaned into her. She wasn’t sure what she started babbling then, too far gone to care, to even care that her voice had dipped low. Her hands slipped into his hair as he devoured her, as he latched on like an anchor, determined to bring her crashing down.

It took a long, long time for her breathing to level out.

He looked beyond pleased with himself. “Seems to work just fine.” He kissed the inside of her thigh, raised an eyebrow as she shuddered. “Again?”

She huffed out a frantic chuckle. “I don’t think I could take that right away.”

“I can keep myself occupied while we wait.” He came back up to nip at a nipple, and she pulled him up the rest of the way, kissed the grin off his face.

“Let a woman breathe, will you.” She felt pleasantly dazed. Not like when she usually came. Slightly different. Not as instantly tired. “So. How does it compare?”

His brows knit together. He didn’t like that. “Nobody compares to you.”

“And you’re very sweet and you absolutely rocked my world, but I’m genuinely asking.”

His frown didn’t entirely even out. “Aesthetically, it looks practically the same.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t have to humor me.”

“I’m not,” he said calmly. “No two women look the same.”

“There’s scars,” she said, unwilling to let it go so easily.

“We all have those,” he murmured, kissing the one on her shoulder. “It’s dryer,” he allowed. “Usually when a woman stays dry under me that’s a sign I’m doing something wrong.” His lazy grin intensified. “Luckily there was plenty of proof to the contrary.”

“That’s never going to change,” she felt the need to warn him.

“I know.” He started planting lazy kisses across her chest, sounding entirely unbothered.

“As in, I won’t self-lubricate,” she kept on explaining, as if she didn’t know he had read the damn instructions, same as hers.

He came back up with a sigh, leveling her with a stern look. “How are you still nervous? Did I not do a good enough job?”

“Don’t be absurd,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes. “It’s just… I’m a quivering mess, and meanwhile you’re… unbothered,” she finished lamely.

He scoffed. “Un…” his fingers caught her chin, made her look at him. His voice dipped into that dark purring thing. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Her breath hitched as he pressed himself into her hip: he was rock hard. She wanted to touch him, make him feel just as good, but when she reached down, his hand snapped around her wrist with a warning grunt. She sputtered in protest, but he didn’t let go. “If you touch me now, I am going to be horribly embarrassed.” His eyes were blown, almost to the point of being black. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

Fuck. Stern Gyeong-seok was hot.

He kissed her, firm and deep, pulled away with that teasing little smile. And then he was back between her legs, kissing her on entirely different lips until her breath turned to gasping, until she was tingling all over, until she wanted… she wanted…

Fuck me,” she gasped, bucking up.

“You’re just saying that because I had my tongue between your legs,” he mumbled. It made his lips dance against her clit, made her pleasure spike to dangerous levels. Bastard.

“It’s… it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” She slid her hands in his hair again, tightened her fingers, and he did that ungodly thing where he almost purred, and… and…

She hadn’t come twice in a row in… ever.

After, he kissed her almost sweetly, as if that same damn mouth hadn’t lifted her up to heaven. Twice.

“Fuck me,” she murmured against his lips.

He pulled back, searching her face, with that slight frown she was starting to find quite annoying. “That’s the dopamine talking. We can take things slow.”

She raised a hand to his face, to smooth out the frown. “Fuck me slowly then.” When she kissed him, she could almost taste his hesitance on his lips. “Or do you want me to beg some more?”

He huffed out a chuckle. “I just mean… you don’t have to feel like you owe me or anything…”

“I know.” She fixed him with a steady gaze. “Please fuck me.”

She knew he wanted to. She could feel it in the way his body shuddered, pressed against her. See it in his eyes, blown impossibly wide. Still, when he kissed her, it was so soft, so controlled. “We can stop anytime.” He looked so serious. “Any time.”

“I know,” she smiled, still flushed, now doubly warmed by affection. “But I don’t want to. I want you.” For the first time all night, he looked entirely flustered. It was a good look on him. So many things looked good on him. She could look at him forever, really.

She had lube in her nightstand, from those few times she had completely failed to get even close to what she had experienced tonight. When he settled on his knees, coating a finger, he looked suddenly so nervous.

“Hey,” she whispered, catching his eyes. “How can you be nervous right after rocking my world?” It was beyond cheesy, she knew, but it helped to break the tension somewhat.

He pressed a finger against her opening. Looked up sharply at her quick intake of a breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Just cold,” she laughed. “Maybe I should look into those warming lubes… oh…” she arched her back, pushing her head into the pillow as he slipped in a finger. “That’s… that’s nice.”

Some more of his nervousness melted. “Yeah?” He bottomed out, chuckled as she let out a soft moan. “You took that easy.”

“I’ve been doing my exercises,” she smiled, immensely pleased with herself for being so diligent. Tensed slightly when he tried to slip in a second finger, and found her too tight.

He gently shushed her, planted a kiss on her knee. “We’ve got time, gongjunim.” He looked for all the world like there was nowhere he’d rather be, nothing he’d rather do. Drank in the sight of her, splayed out like this, while he worked her open slowly. Patiently. Sometimes he’d bend down to place soft kisses on her breasts, sucking lazy hickies into her skin. Or he’d capture her mouth into a kiss, murmuring against her lips how good she felt around his fingers. Which was ridiculously cliché, but cliché for a solid reason, to the point where she made a very embarrassing sound, leading to him pressing his nose against her ear to ask her teasingly if she liked it when he complimented her pussy.

“Don’t…” she groaned, embarrassed and turned on both. “Don’t call it that.”

“What would you like me to call it? Your cunt?” His chuckle tinged dark when she bucked into his fingers with a little whimper. “Yeah?”

“Just hurry,” she whined, pushing into his touch. Whimpered all over again when he pulled back teasingly. “Bastard.”

“You love me,” he grinned, pulling fully out to add more lube. Chuckled at her muttered cursing.

By the time he had three full fingers in, she was squirming with pure impatience. “I knew it,” she panted, chasing his touch, groaning every time he pulled back to match. “You do want me to beg.”

“As pretty as you sound when you do that,” he smiled, “I mainly don’t want to hurt you.”

“First times are supposed to hurt,” she joked. Not that she would know. The only time she ever got that far with a woman she hadn’t been able to get it up.

His fingers stilled. “That’s a fucking lie,” he growled, with a tinge of anger.

“But this is taking…” she huffed, arched her back in an attempt to push him in deeper, “forever…”

“We have time. I’m not going anywhere.” He sounded enragingly sensible. “And if it doesn’t work we can always try again—"

“You are fucking me now,” she cut him off. Threw her head back as he finally bottomed out with all three fingers.

“And the lady will get what she wants,” he smiled. Pressed his thumb against her clit as he lightly spread his fingers inside of her. “Language,” he tisked. “Cursing won’t change that I am not fucking you until you are good and ready.” And oh, she almost rushed over the edge all over again at the way he said that, with the way he looked down at her, so downright determined to fuck her right.

When he was finally satisfied, he fully pulled away from her, leaving her achingly empty and cold. She propped herself up on her arms to watch, unashamed, as he slathered his dick with lube. Hungrily drank that little grunt he huffed out, the way that he shuddered under his own touch.

His muscles were tout as he carefully settling on top of her, his breathing tense. “Now, I know you have been so very patient…” and she knew he didn’t just mean tonight. “But I would be incredibly embarrassed if I didn’t manage to make this pleasing for you.” He positioned himself at her opening, carefully eased the tip of his dick in. “So I am asking you very nicely… to not… move…”

He pumped into her slowly, bit by agonizing bit, studying her face for any hint of discomfort. When he finally bottomed out, she was shaking under him, him shaking on top of her. He stayed just like that, deep inside of her. They were both panting. “Still good?”

She stared up at him, feeling so strange, so full, so in awe of his willpower. “Yes. You?”

He huffed out a tense chuckle. “You are…” he pressed a breathless kiss into her lips, “way too fucking hot.”

And then he moved.

Hyun-ju cried out in surprise, in clear pleasure, in a way that made her voice dip low. She instinctively raised a hand to muffle herself.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled, catching her hand, pressing it into the pillow above her head. “I want to hear you. I want to see you. I want…” he bucked in deep, staying there, panting against her lips as she moaned. “Yes, those, I want those pretty sounds you make. Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He kissed her greedily, returning to his slow and steady pace. “So beautiful. I can’t believe I get to have you.” He sped up, pulling back to shamelessly look at her. “Nae Sarang. Hyun-j—” he groaned deeply, for a moment losing his rhythm. He moved back to sit on his knees, pulling her right along, latching his arms under her hips. “Could you come like this?” he whispered, hoarse, studying her face. She was long past coherent words, but he didn’t seem to care. Seemed to be looking for an answer beyond verbal. He shifted, resettled. Chuckled darkly when she cried out at this new angle. “Yeah? Right there?” She couldn’t even sob out an affirmation as he fucked her steady, with that cocky dazed grin on his face. He moved his own thumb to his lips to wet it, to press down on her clit, and it was too much, she was too close to coming undone all over again, she was suddenly scrambling to get away.

“Where do you think you’re going,” he growled, pulling her back.

She let him. Relinquished control. Let go. It was entirely possible she may have screamed his name.

She had no idea how long it took for her to come back down. How long they had been at it. Time had lost all meaning. He had pulled out to settle next to her. “You look so fucking pleased,” she grinned, pushing his beaming face away. He nipped playfully at her hand, nuzzled into her neck. Her happy glowy mood faltered as she felt his hardness brush up against her hip. “You didn’t come?”

“Ladies first,” he mumbled with a smile. But now that she had noticed, there was no denying how tense he was against her, almost tout.

“Why did you hold back?”

“Ah…” He looked almost sheepish. “I wasn’t sure where you wanted me to…”

She silenced him with a kiss. This absolute idiot of hers. “Gyeong-seokya you are too fucking nice for this world and if you don’t pound me into this mattress right now—”

She gasped as he flipped her on her back, slipped in fast and easy with a groan she couldn’t help but mirror. “Like this?” He started up a steady pace.

“Harder,” she panted. How, how could she still be horny? “I can take it.”

“Bossy,” he murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

For the span of a single heartbeat, she was so annoyed at him. At how he always put himself last, even with her, even now. And she knew she could push him over easy. She could taunt him, dig her fingernails into his ass, tell him it wasn’t a damn request. The urge melted away as she caught a flicker of his gaze, so intensely caring, before his eyes shut in pained concentration.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know you won’t hurt me.” She took hold of his face. “Look at me.” His eyes shot open. He looked so wrecked, so raw. An open book in her hands. “You’re so good to me aein. Always so good to me.” He choked out a whine, stuttered in his rhythm. “You know what else you are?” She waited until his eyes found hers again. “You’re mine.”

He shuddered in her arms. Pressed in deep. He made the most beautiful sounds, looked so fucking beautiful as he came undone on top of her, in her. She held him close, after, when he’d collapsed on top of her. Murmured it into his hair again, because she could. Because she wanted to. Because it was true.

“Mine.”

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok was getting comfortable in Hyun-ju’s house. Perhaps a little too comfortable.

He hadn’t noticed right away. Too wrapped up in the joy of seeing Hyun-ju again, so swiftly followed by being utterly submerged in the awe of getting to have her, fully and completely. In the joy of her trust in him. Of being hers.

But there was a level of comfort happening that went beyond having his toothbrush slotted next to hers. He had claimed himself a fixed sitting spot in the drawing room. There was a certain way he liked to keep his art supplies out on the windowsill. A spot in the hallway where he always put his shoes. A regular seat at the table when they ate together. A side of her bed, whether they had sex or no.

It made him feel welcome. Wanted. Warm, through and through, to find they had a usual way of cuddling up on her couch to watch TV, that she would set the table and do the dishes around him cooking as if it was a well-rehearsed dance.

But then one day while Hyun-ju was in the bathroom doing womanly things, he found himself fully rearranging the kitchen, not even realizing he was doing it until every possible surface was covered with pots and pans. He stood there, caught at the exact half point when putting everything back would be just as much work as moving forward, frozen in indecision, stuck in confusion. Because he should feel bad about this. Sure, he cooked here all the time, and he’d snuck in spices from home before, but this, this had to be crossing a line. You didn’t just rearrange someone else’s home. It should feel like he was overstepping. But it didn’t. And when Hyun-ju discovered him like that, still stuck halfway, she didn’t get mad at all. Just rolled her eyes affectionately, asked if he was going to alphabetize the spice cabinet next. Which, no, of course not, that was lunacy, spices didn’t go by alphabetical order. His system made a lot more sense. And besides, he’d already done that yesterday. He just hadn’t stopped to think about it.

He started to notice more things then. The fact that the bathroom was a lot less cluttered with make-up, leaving him more room on the sink. That with the impossible amount of shoes Hyun-ju seemed to own, a likewise decluttering had happened in the hallway. That the nightstand on his side of the bed was empty, aside from a single frame, holding one of Na-yeon’s drawings; the one he’d asked her to draw as a reference, the one Na-yeon had insisted he take along to give to Hyun-ju to help her feel better. That a little side table had appeared next to his spot in the drawing room, with a coaster on it, so he could keep his drink safely away from his art supplies. That Hyun-ju now called it the drawing room.

It was like something had shifted. She’d put his sketches on her wall, made them a part of her home, and then she’d dragged him into her bed and had refused to let him leave, and, and… he was going to have to leave. And he didn’t want to.

I could live here.

And this feeling wasn’t just contained to the house either. Hyun-ju insisted on dragging him out the door daily, showing him around the neighborhood, taking him to all her favorite places. The coffee shop around the corner. The food stalls where people knew her on sight, which he teased her with, which she teased him right back with, by telling the owners Gyeong-seok’s cooking was the reason they lost out on her business every time he was in town. The man behind the counter let out a booming laugh at that, declared food an important pillar to true love. Gyeong-seok did his best to pretend he hadn’t understood. Thanked himself for being so relentless with his self-study of the language, when Hyun-ju reacted adorably flustered.

He found there was a korean stall at the weekly market, at walking distance from her house. Couldn’t help but note that her favorite park had a giant playground. Found that the sunsets painted the skies with colors that made his fingers itch.

And he’d already known Hyun-ju wasn’t ever going back. Had already more than considered moving to join her. Knew that he would follow her to the ends of the earth. But it was nice, so nice, to find it wouldn’t be a hardship to do so. If it turned out she wanted him here. That he could adapt, find a space, right alongside.

***

In hindsight, taking Gyeong-seok along to the queer bar had been a Mistake. Not on account of Gyeong-seok himself: he was being a perfect gentleman, a perfect date. A perfectly behaved straight visitor in a queer space. He’d even dressed up nice, when she told him where they were going, who they were going to meet. He’d spent almost as much time as her in front of the mirror trying to get his hair just right, displaying adequate levels of nerves about making a good impression. There had even been a delightful moment in their hallway when they were getting ready to step out. Hyun-ju had put on high heeled boots without really thinking about it, aside of that they looked cute with her current outfit. But then Gyeong-seok had gaped at her. Actually gaped, slack jaw and all. And she’d realized two things quite abruptly: that she had apparently, subconsciously, never worn high heels around him before, out of a silly sense of gendered default thinking about height. And that she had been extra silly for doing so, as Gyeong-seok clearly liked it when she towered over him. To the point where he could only sputter when she asked him sweetly if he liked what he was seeing. At that point, well, what else was she supposed to have done, aside from backing him up until she had him trapped against the wall, until she had him whimpering in her mouth.

When they finally made it out the door, Hyun-ju leading the way, he had followed with a dazed smile. He had been decidedly less pleased to find she had completely messed up his hair.

His nerves had been for nothing, of course. Everybody loved him. Of course they did. How could they not? He was amazing. And he was her boyfriend. She introduced him as such, proudly, repeatedly. Kept touching him, all the while they were there. Holding his hand, draping herself against his back in a loose hug, hanging on his arm. Didn’t even pretend to herself it was only to keep people from accidentally hitting on a straight guy. No, she was being pleasantly possessive, remorselessly so. He was hers, and she wanted everyone to know it. Even when they ended up sitting at a table with some of her friends, whom Gyeong-seok did his best to talk to, in focused, halting Thai, she kept his fingers laced in hers, out on the table for everyone to see. Dipped close to whisper into his ear whenever he glanced at her for help with a word he couldn’t think of.

“I’m so happy we finally get to meet him.” One of Hyun-ju’s friends from that day she had needed saving in the bathroom, was sitting on her other side. “Are you sure he’s straight? He’s not uncomfortable in here at all. And his Thai is fairly good. And he’s hot,” she went on unabashed, checking him out. “Like, really hot. When he smiles? Oof. You’re a lucky woman, Hyun-ju.” She grinned down at their joined hands. “And a smart one. I’d hold on to him too.”

Hyun-ju glanced at Gyeong-seok. Found him looking back at her with open and pleased affection. He had understood most of that, hadn’t he? He picked up languages fast. She squeezed his hand, returned her attention to her friend, who was now openly grinning.

“Has he asked you yet?”

Has he asked me what?” Hyun-ju said, not getting it right away. Not getting it at all, actually, until her friend rolled her eyes, and dramatically leaned in to whisper in Hyun-ju’s ear.

“Has he popped the question yet?”

Hyun-ju jerked her head away so fast she nearly headbutted Gyeong-seok.

He instantly let go of her hand to pull her close, worry evident on his face. “You alright?”

He froze in clear surprise as she kissed him. Whoops and laughs went up around the table, and he quickly pulled away, looking endearingly bashful, even as he grinned. She grinned back, relieved he hadn’t heard. Settled herself with her chin on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around him. Reveled in his closeness as he made an attempt to pick up the conversation again.

She found it was incredibly easy to have him forget what he was trying to say, simply by placing carefully timed kisses in his neck. Found that her friends had very flimsy loyalty, when they instantly jumped to his defense. Found it deeply, warmly confirming, that they liked him so. That he was welcome here, fitted in here, at her side, regardless of the differences, language or otherwise.

That night, she made it a point to tower over him in a way that didn’t require heels, or any clothes at all. Made it a point to show him how deeply truly lucky she was to have him. By the time she was done with him, he didn’t much care about the state of his hair anymore.

***

Hyun-ju was still in the bathroom, applying her make-up for the day, when Gyeong-seok stormed in.

"Your child”, he glowered, “munched on my pencil.” He accusingly held up the evidence.

“May I remind you that you are the one who lured him to my house.” She winced at the bite marks. “I’m sorry. I’ll replace it.”

His mood instantly sobered. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Oh?” She returned to the mirror with a smile, applying a hint of mascara. “What are your demands then? Jailtime?”

“Nah,” Gyeong-seok muttered, the wind clearly taken out of his sails. “I shouldn’t leave them out in the open anyway.”

When she glanced at him in the mirror, she found him gazing at her, in that soft way of his that made her heart stutter. “What are you looking at?”

His smile deepened. “You.”

She almost stabbed herself in the eye. “You’re going to make me mess up my make-up.”

He chuckled, stepping in close. Her breath hitched as he hugged her from behind, careful not to disturb her arm holding the mascara. Not moving her at all, really, molding himself to her instead of the other way around. “Don’t stop on my account,” he whispered into her hair, gazing at her reflection with such softness, such reverence, that she had to put the brush down, take a deep breath.

“What am I to do with you,” she sighed, addressing his reflection.

“You love me.”

She hummed. “I do, it’s true.”

He smiled, in that tiny pleased way. Buried his face into her neck, clearly inhaling her scent. He looked so happy, so content.

“What were you planning on drawing? Is that what you want to do on your last full day?”

She felt him stiffen. “Is that today already?”

She silently cursed herself. “I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”

“Nah,” he whispered. “Not your fault I have to get back.”

Move in with me. The words almost escaped her. Almost. And why shouldn’t she say them? As far as she was concerned, this was it. He was it for her. To have. To hold. It didn’t even have to be marriage. He’d already done all that, once. Was probably burned off the idea, forever. And that was ok. They both had scars to consider. To be mindful of. She didn’t need things to be official. Trusted him, well beyond the power of a mere paper. Even if being a wife, his wife, would be… no.

She gently shook herself out of it. She shouldn’t dream. Shouldn’t ask. He had a life to return to. He had Na-yeon. Why wish for more, when she had so much already, right here, right now?

“What do you want to do today?” she asked instead. “Anything you want.”

He stayed silent for a beat. “Can I just hold you for a while?”

She set the mascara aside. Turned in his arms, to hold him properly.

They had a quiet day in. Had breakfast out in the garden. Stayed there after, laying on the grass, him nestled with his head on her stomach, her hand gently caressing his hair. They called Na-yeon, who shattered the silence of the day with her enthusiasm in a not unpleasant way. She insisted on seeing the kitty, and then further on insisted on seeing the house, all of it, including the garden. By the time they finally managed to hang up, Hyun-ju felt slightly worn out, but she was also sad to see her go.

“She looks really good,” Hyun-ju told Gyeong-seok, who looked decidedly less worn out by the phone call. Of course, he had years of experience on her.

“She does.” His happy smile faltered. “I… I keep trying not to hope," he admitted. "And then I keep failing.” He looked so openly vulnerable. A parent still bracing for the worst.

She reached for him, taking his hands in hers. “It’s not a bad thing to hope. To make room for it.” She squeezed his hands. “You can call me anytime. Bad news, good news, good news but hopeless days anyway… And if you need me there. If Na-yeon needs me there. I can be on the next flight over.”

He was usually an open book to her. But sometimes, sometimes, he’d get this look, like now, that was entirely unreadable. “You care more than she ever did.”

It took her by surprise. He never talked about his ex like this. Unprompted. Unprovoked. She found herself instantly angering on his behalf. “You both deserved so much better.”

His smile then was entirely different, yet still puzzlingly opaque. She didn’t entirely understand what it meant. But then he was kissing her, soft and sweet, and she had always found it quite difficult to keep on thinking whenever he did that. Found it wasn’t a hardship to stop trying.

***

Gi-hun was waiting for him at the usual spot. Gyeong-seok raised a hand in greeting, and wondered when exactly this had stopped feeling weird. When they had all started to feel like a family, mashed together from leftover bits from the discard bin.

“Did you have a good trip? How is she?”

“I did, thank you. And she’s doing good.” Gyeong-seok gave Gi-hun an update on Hyun-ju’s health as they walked to the car. How everything was evolving exactly as planned, no complications, with only two more checkups to go.

Gyeong-seok settled into the passenger seat. “I’m going to apply for a Thai visa. I mean, just in case,” he went on, suddenly nervous, when Gi-hun didn’t appear to react, simply started up the engine and started driving. “I don’t want to presume anything on her part, but it won’t hurt to be prepared… right?” He drummed his fingers on his knee as Gi-hun’s silence stretched on. “…Unless you think there’s a reason I shouldn’t?”

Gi-hun was silent for a beat longer. “Check the glove compartment.”

Gyeong-seok did, warily pulling out an envelope with his name on it. Opened it. Froze, when he realized what it was holding. “…Why… how…”

“The application process can take a while. So I jumpstarted it.” There was the slightest uptick of a smile. “Just in case. As you said.”

Gyeong-seok stared down at the visas. One for him, and one for Na-yeon. “Thank you,” he said heartfeltly. “Truly. We owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me shit,” Gi-hun snapped. Visibly forced himself to ease up. Didn’t elaborate further, but he didn’t have to. Gyeong-seok knew what he meant. That in a better world, nobody would need a piece of paper to live where they wanted. That in a better world, they wouldn’t have to move at all.

“It’s just the paperwork,” Gi-hun grunted. “You’re going to have to do the real work.”

Gyeong-seok nodded. Find himself a new job. Teach Na-yeon the language. Work out how the schooling system worked. First on the list, always first, discussing the options with her doctor about transferring care. Absolutely none of this could go ahead without approval there, not if it in any way risked Na-yeon’s health. But Hyun-ju had the right of it there. It wasn’t a bad thing to hope. To prepare for it.

They all deserved happiness.

Gyeong-seok tucked the visas away. “What about you? “

“What about me?”

“Thailand isn’t that far.” He looked at Gi-hun sideways. “But neither is the US.”

To Gyeong-seok’s surprise, Gi-hun didn’t get angry. Didn’t tense. He simply hummed. “One hopeless case at a time.”

***

Hyun-ju woke up groggily, and slapped ineffectually at her cellphone before finally managing to turn it off. Dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, which she turned just a smidge too cold. She shouldn’t have let Gyeong-seok sleep in her bed. She should have known it was going to create an issue. Falling asleep without him pressed against her had her tossing and turning, reaching out for him in her sleep. She had shamelessly changed her sheets the night before he left. To keep his scent with her as long as possible. It had helped, a little. But that was two weeks ago now. All that remained was his toothbrush, which he’d forgotten, which she left right there to greet her every morning. A kitchen where she couldn’t find anything anymore, but she was refusing to change back. A lonely pencil she’d discovered under the couch, courtesy of Wangja. The empty slot in the hallway, waiting his return.

The house felt too damn quiet, with just her and the cat. She tried to walk the line between living in the moment and living for… something else. She had focused on the stolen pencil as if it was a quest starter: researched the best art supply store, took it in to get an exact replacement. And while she was there, she might as well look into options for stowing art supplies. Pick up some markers designed specifically for drawing on windows. She was a grown woman, and she could spend her hard-earned money on whatever she wanted. Up to and including child-friendly nail polish in all the colors of the rainbow. That adorable strawberry nightlight she spotted by accident. Drinking cups that wouldn’t shatter when dropped. Home slippers in Gyeong-seok’s size. She was a grown woman, and she could do what she liked. And that included preparing for hope.

She had her second to last follow up today. Defense classes after. She was teaching her own class at the gym nowadays. While the regular class she had sometimes subbed for had been limited to women only, which was entirely understandable, Hyun-ju had made a successful case for more inclusivity, and had gotten a separate timeslot of her own. It didn’t pay bad. Nowhere near a fulltime, but her house had been paid for in full by Gi-hun. She didn’t need her job to justify her existence. She could afford to be picky. To try out volunteer work on the side. See what would fit.

Her follow-up revealed no complications. Two more weeks, and she’d be officially post-op. There were other surgeries she had been contemplating, but those were mostly cosmetic. Things she could consider at her own pace. She could stand to be out of hospitals for a while, first.

Teaching defense class always came with a calm and clear focus. It gave her a purpose, something to do with her years of combat training. A way to feel useful. It wasn’t a bad workout either. She always felt pleasantly spent, after the exertion. Grounded in her own body.

That sense of calm evaporated when she found she’d forgotten to take her phone out of her purse, had left it inside her locker for the duration of the two-hour class. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, if not for the fact that she had missed three calls from Gyeong-seok. Her heart shot in her throat. He never called more than once. Ever. None of them did unless something was on fire. And it was Thursday. A hospital Thursday. Fuck. She’d lost track of the days. She gave herself ten counts to get her breathing under control. To ensure she could be calm. Supporting. Called him back.

Gyeong-seok picked up after the first ring. Didn’t bother with any greeting. “Na-yeon is in remission.”

“… What?” Hyun-ju blurted.

“She’d in remission,” he repeated, voice brimming with barely contained elation.

She sagged against her locker. “…Say that again.”

“She’s in remission.”

She could picture his face perfect. Found her own grinning to match. “Again.”

“Na-yeon is in remission.”

She screamed. He laughed. Somewhere along the line, he started to cry. And she couldn’t help it: she joined in with both. When some incredibly worried gym members rushed into the locker room to check up on her, she waved them away apologetically, mouthed that it was good news, actually. The very best.

“Congratulations appa,” she smiled through her tears. “How did Na-yeon react?”

He chuckled wetly. “She’s demanding all the candy to celebrate. She’s convinced she’s never seeing another needle in her life. We’re throwing her a party.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow evening. Geum-ja insisted. She’s hosting. Dae-ho and Min-su are making her a banner. Yong-sik keeps texting me ideas for presents. It’s turning into a whole thing.”

“I'll be there,” she found herself saying.

“Ah… Hyun-juna, I didn’t mean it like that, you don’t have to—"

“Don’t talk nonsense,” she scoffed. “Of course I’ll be there. This is huge. This is important.” Her voice softened. “This is Na-yeon.” His continuing silence made her hesitate. “Unless… you don’t want…”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” he shot back instantly. “She’d be so happy to see you.”

The sheer conviction in his voice made her smile. “So what are you thinking? Are we keeping it a surprise?”

“I’m not good at keeping surprises,” Gyeong-seok admitted. “But I’ll try.”

“You just have to not tell her for one day. You can do it.”

“No promises,” he laughed. It sounded so light, so pleasantly carefree. Hyun-ju could stand to have him sound like this forever.

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju let out a breath of relief when she spotted Gi-hun, waiting for her outside of arrivals. Even as ambiguous as she had dressed herself for the trip, in loose fitting clothes and a cap with absolutely no make-up, traveling with the wrong gender marker had felt like a gamble. She hated that she couldn’t change it. Hated that a base level of tension settled in her bones as soon as her feet touched Korean soil. Coming home shouldn’t feel like walking into a trap.

When she walked up to Gi-hun he offered her a rare smile, and she suddenly couldn’t find it in herself to care about pretenses beyond this ridiculous disguise. So she hugged him. He froze, for a long moment, before awkwardly patting her on the back. She chuckled, and stepped back. “You look good, old man.”

“You look weird,” he shot back, looking her over. “Let’s get you back so you can change.”

A grateful warmth wrapped around the tension, muffling it some. “That would be great, thanks.” Getting into the car and locking the world away helped too. “So, how has everyone been?” she asked, at the same time Gi-hun said “So how are you?” They gave each other a look.

Hyun-ju had had a long while to think about how honest she was going to be. “I have my last checkup in two weeks. Everything looks good. How have things been here?” This was Na-yeon’s evening, Hyun-ju had eventually decided. She wasn’t going to derail it by throwing a truth-bomb at the party. And besides. If she were to tell anyone at all, it would have to be Gyeong-seok first. That would only be fair.

She gratefully listened as Gi-hun gave her an update on everyone’s lives. Allowed herself to be happy she was going to see them all very soon.

***

“Na-yeona, please hurry, we’re going to be late.” Gyeong-seok was frantically patting his pockets to check for keys. He groaned as Na-yeon came strolling out of her room, entirely unbothered, and utterly underdressed.

She held up two dresses that looked to Gyeong-seok to be almost identical, aside from the color. One was light yellow, the other light purple. “Which one is prettier?”

“Na-yeona I swear they both look lovely, just pick one, please.”

Na-yeon gave him a disapproving look he was sure she’d learned from him. “We can’t be late to my own party, appa. The party can’t start without me.”

“Well people are still waiting for you, and we don’t want to be rude, do we?”

Her face split into a big grin. “Everyone is going to be there just for me!” Her face fell just as sudden. “Except for Hyun-ju.” She heaved out a dramatic sigh.

Gyeong-seok carefully kept his face in check. “Well, now that you are officially healed, we can go visit her. The two of us together. Would you like that?”

Na-yeon brightened again. “Tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow. But soon.”

Na-yeon’s face turned to thunder. “But I want to see Hyun-ju!”

Like a damn yoyo, this kid’s temper. He knew it wasn’t her fault. It had been a big day yesterday, with big news. Na-yeon had bounced from one emotion to the next, hitting everything in between from scream-laughing to scream-crying. He could hardly blame her. Once he had gone to bed, he had started crying himself. Found he couldn’t stop until his pillow had been soaked through. It had been a long emotional road. Outbursts were to be expected.

“Tell you what,” he tried. “How about we send Hyun-ju a picture of the dresses, and ask her for advice?”

Na-yeon’s mood instantly shifted again. “That’s the best idea!”

“Of course it is,” Gyeong-seok grinned. “I always have the best ideas.”

“And Hyun-ju is a lot better at clothes than you are because Hyun-ju is a girl,” Na-yeon said matter of factly, posing with the dresses.

“Exuse me, who got you those dresses in the first place?” But he was smiling while he took the picture and sent it along. Maybe they could go clothes shopping one day, the three of them. Na-yeon would love that. His heart swelled at the idea, at how easily it had occurred. He could do that now. Make plans without that constant dark cloud of uncertainty. Think further ahead than three weeks at a time. Buy clothes Na-yeon could grow into. Because she would. Because she made it.

“Appa?” Na-yeon tugged at his sleeve looking suddenly deeply worried. “Did Hyun-ju say something mean to you?”

“Huh?” He looked back at the phone in his hands, where there was no reply yet, then back at her. “No? Why?”

“You’re crying.”

He touched his own face, and found she was right. “Ah… those are happy tears.” He wiped at them ineffectually.

Na-yeon ran off to go and get him a tissue. Came back to tug insistently at his sleeve until he bent down, so she could carefully wipe his face. It was adorably sweet, even if she had dumped the dresses straight onto the ground to do it. “It’s ok to cry,” she told him solemnly. An exact copy of what he had told her, trough innumerable difficult moments.

He chuckled. Sat still while she wiped the tears basically all over his face. “It is. Thank you for taking care of me.”

“We take care of each other,” she smiled happily. Her face then scrunched up in new worry. “… Appa?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Who takes care of Hyun-ju? She’s all alone over there.”

Gyeong-seok considered his words carefully. “Well… she does have friends over there. And our friends go and visit all the time. And me. And now that you’re better, you can too.”

“But what if something happens when nobody is there?” Na-yeon kept on panicking. “What if she falls and nobody finds her? Wangja can’t use a phone! He doesn’t have thumbs!”

He tried his very best not to laugh. He couldn’t exactly tell her he agreed with her. That even though he knew Hyun-ju could take care of herself, he still worried, whenever he wasn’t there. But he knew his daughter. She was even worse than him at keeping secrets. And even if she wasn’t, these were things he really needed to discuss with Hyun-ju first.

Saving him by way of distraction, his phone finally pinged.

Hyun-ju: They both look adorable, but I’m assuming that’s not what she wants to hear. Tell her I’m wearing purple today.

He told Na-yeon, who instantly forgot her worried mood. “We can match!” She scooped up the purple dress and dashed back into her room. “That way she’ll be sort of at the party too!”

He picked up the remaining dress with a weary smile. Hung it up, then went to fix his face, for all the good it would do. It was a good thing it was ok to cry. Gyeong-seok suspected there were going to be a lot more tears happening tonight.

***

“We are going to be late,” Gi-hun frowned, jingling his car keys.

“Arriving late was the entire plan.” Hyun-ju walked out of the bathroom. It was just her and him at the apartment; they hadn’t told anyone else she would be coming over. Gi-hun had asked Yong-sik to come pick everyone up, claiming he had a conflict of schedule, but he’d be there as soon as possible. Nobody had questioned it. She gave a little twirl, showing off the dress. “How do I look?”

“You look gorgeous,” Gi-hun said easily, with the experience of a man who had clearly once made the mistake of saying ‘fine’ to a woman in this same situation and had the woman turn right back around to ensure an upgrade. “The previous dress looked just as good, why did you change?”

“To match Na-yeon.” Hyun-ju smoothed out the purple fabric. Found she couldn’t stop grinning with giddy nerves. “Do you think she’ll be happy to see me?”

“Of course she will.” Gi-hun shot her a rare smile. “They all will be.” He jingled the keys again. “If we ever get there.”

***

“Congratulations Na-yeon!”

Na-yeon stared at the room full of cheering people and decorations in shocked awe. “Is… is this all for me?” There was a huge banner on the wall, which read ‘Well done Na-yeon!’ and had pink bunnies painted all around. Balloons in every color were stuck to every chair. The table was filled to the brim with snacks and desserts. She stood frozen for a long moment, taking it all in, before she dashed into the room. “I love it!” She threw herself into Dae-ho’s arms, who picked her up easily.

“Welcome to your party! We got snacks, and games, and people who want to congratulate you, let’s go!” He started parading her around the room to receive congratulatory high fives all around.

Gyeong-seok trailed behind, more than content to let his daughter bask in the attention. “You really shouldn’t have,” he softly scolded Geum-ja, hugging her.

The woman hugged him back tight. “Don’t be ridiculous. Our girl deserves this. And she needs it.” Geum-ja gave him a look. “Her appa needs it too. Let’s celebrate the good things, yes?”

Gyeong-seok shot her a brittle smile. He really didn’t want to cry this soon into the party.

Yong-sik appeared at his side. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you two.” He gestured at the room. “I didn’t know her favorite color, so I got her… all the balloons.”

Gyeong-seok chuckled. “It’s yellow, but she doesn’t discriminate.” His phone pinged, and he checked it.

“Tell Hyun-ju hi from us,” Yong-sik grinned. “Your smile just intensified by ten,” he explained, when Gyeong-seok looked caught out.

Gyeong-seok shook his head with a chuckle. “If anyone had told me, right before the games, where I would be right now, what I would have… I never would have believed them. Probably would have chucked something at their head,” he added as an afterthought.

“Like a chair,” Yong-sik nodded. “I get it. But you are here. And you do have all of that.” He solemnly put his hand on Gyeong-seok’s shoulder. “And you better not let Hyun-ju down, or I will chuck a chair at your head.”

Gyeong-seok chuckled, warmed by the clear brotherly affection. “Noted.” He looked up sharply when the doorbell rang. “Don’t open that,” he hissed, “that’s for Na-yeon.” Yong-sik looked confused, but he did stay put. “Dae-hoya!” Gyeong-seok called. “Can you put Na-yeon down, she has to open the door.”

“Why?” Na-yeon asked. Not in a rude ‘I don’t want to’ way, rather in a puzzled ‘but this isn’t our house’ way.

Gyeong-seok beckoned her with a smile. “Remember I still owe you a present?”

Na-yeon put her little hand in his. “From Thailand?”

Gyeong-seok suddenly didn’t trust his own voice. Simply guided his daughter to the door, which she opened with tentative curiosity.

“Surprise!”

Na-yeon stared up at Hyun-ju, frozen in startled shock.

And then Gyeong-seok’s heart, which had soared at seeing Hyun-ju, took an abrupt dive. Because Na-yeon was crying.

***

Panic surged through Hyun-ju, before reason caught up to feeling. She dropped to her knees and opened her arms. Na-yeon threw herself into the embrace, and started bawling.

“It’s ok,” Hyun-ju crooned, softly rocking her, stroking her back. “A lot of big emotions, huh? Go ahead and let them all out.” Na-yeon clung to her as if she was a lifeline, her face buried into her shoulder, crying with heaving sobs. Hyun-ju carefully maneuvered herself into a sitting position in the hallway, settled the little girl into a more comfortable position in her lap. “You must be so tired,” she whispered in Na-yeon’s hair. “You had such a long journey. And I bet you’ve been so angry at your own body.” She suddenly felt herself tear up. Forced herself not to choke. To say what Na-yeon needed to hear. What Hyun-ju would have killed to hear from her parents. “You’ve been so brave, Na-yeona. So very brave. And everyone here loves you so much.”

Na-yeon gulped in a big breath. “I’m crying all over your dre-heess,” she blubbered.

Hyun-ju chuckled. “That’s ok. That’s what washing machines are for. Emotions can be messy sometimes.” She held the girl for a while longer, as long as she needed, until her beathing finally evened out. “Feeling better?”

Na-yeon pulled back with a sniffle. “Yeah…” she looked all puffy eyed, face shiny with tears and snot.

“Hang on darling, let me clean your face…” Hyun-ju pulled at her purse, still on her arm, but it was refusing to be opened one handed.

“Here.” Gyeong-seok was suddenly there, crouched down next to them, sounding gruff. He was holding a tissue, and Hyun-ju took it from him without thinking, was already cleaning Na-yeon’s face when she realized he had probably meant to do exactly that. But he didn’t protest, didn’t take over. He simply stayed near, as she carefully cleaned up Na-yeon’s tears, carefully didn’t look at him. She had a sudden feeling that if she did, she was going to need a tissue of her own.

Hyun-ju somewhat awkwardly positioned the tissue around Na-yeon’s nose. “Blow your nose?”

Na-yeon puffed up her cheeks and blew.

“Not through your mouth, darling.” Gyeong-seok’s chuckle sounded suspiciously wet.

Na-yeon tried again, more effectively. Scrunched up her face as Hyun-ju wiped her nose. The scrunch intensified when Gyeong-seok did a second pass with a fresh tissue, and she wriggled out of Hyun-ju’s arms, clearly and abruptly done with both crying and being held. She wobbled, and both adults reached to keep her steady.

“Whoa,” Hyun-ju grinned, holding up a hand to Na-yeon’s height. “You’ve grown!”

Na-yeon gave a watery smile, straightened up on her tippy toes.

Gyeong-seok stood. Held out a hand to help Hyun-ju up. She took it automatically, looked at him in a silent thank you. His gaze was so soft, it almost knocked her right back down. “If you think that’s bad, you definitely do not want to see the baby.” He gently turned Hyun-ju towards the room.

Ah yes. The room. With all the people who also hadn’t known she was coming. Hyun-ju quickly got rid of her shoes, chucked her purse to the side, tentatively raised a hand. “… surprise?”

To her immense relief, nobody else started crying. They had all kept quiet, giving Na-yeon the space she needed. Now that the emergency had passed, Na-yeon taken aside by her appa, they all rushed to greet Hyun-ju at once, shouting out welcomes, and questions, and at least one ‘how dare you’. Dae-ho was the first to reach her, surprising her by bodily picking her up and spinning her around. Yong-sik almost crushed her with a hug. Geum-ja pushed and shoved them all aside to pull Hyun-ju down in a hug that almost matched her sons in strength. Even Min-su was smiling. Min-su. Smiling. What even was going on?

The last to greet her was Jun-hee, on account of staying safely out of the kerfuffle as she was holding… Hyun-ju blinked. “That’s a baby??”

“Technically, closer to toddler.” Jun-hee resettled her daughter on her hip with a wry smile. “We’re crawling now, believe it or not. And pulling up on things.”

“That is amazing.” Hyun-ju smiled at the no-longer-baby, who openly stared back, wide eyed, and reached out a chubby fist.

Jun-hee quickly intercepted. “Be warned. She loves earrings.”

Hyun-ju promptly took hers out. “There. Fixed. Permission to hug?”

Jun-hee made as to hand over her daughter.

“I meant you!” Hyun-ju laughed, and solved the confusion by simply hugging them both. “You look good, Jun-heeya.”

Jun-hee squeezed her one armed. “So do you, Unnie.”

The word still twinged. But not as much as it once had. Hyun-ju pulled back, grinned as Jun-hee intercepted another grabby attempt with practiced ease, this time aimed at Hyun-ju’s shiny bracelet. “Quite a handful isn’t she?” Hyun-ju laughed.

‘You have no idea,” Jun-hee sighed affectionately. “Parenting is a trip. I have no idea what I’m doing sometimes.”

“Well, you look like a total natural parent to me.”

Jun-hee tilted her head with a small smile. “Right back at you.”

Hyun-ju inhaled sharply. “… I’m not going to swear in front of your child. But I am going to go and find a tissue.”

She walked away from Jun-hee’s clear giggle, dipping into the kitchen in search of, if not a tissue, a few moments to breathe, to wrestle down the threat of tears. Only the kitchen turned out to already hold Gyeong-seok and Na-yeon, the latter sitting on the counter while her appa toweled off her freshly washed face. He looked up at Hyun-ju, brow crinkling in worry as he picked up on her mood. She shot him a watery smile, mouthed she was ok, turned to give them space, to go find her own.

No such luck. She was intercepted by Geum-ja, who all but cornered her. “You look good, ttala.” Geum-ja’s smile was so bright, so honestly happy, Hyun-ju had to work hard to keep from crying. Geum-ja took hold of her hands, openly looked her over, critically checking her out. Like a parent, when you returned to their home after a long trip, about to say you needed to eat more. The thought rose unbidden, pushing along the tears. They sprung to her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. Refused to give in.

Geum-ja huffed in approval. “You look good.” Patted Hyun-ju’s hand. “You look like yourself.”

With one deep shuddering breath, Hyun-ju stopped fighting.

“Appa,” she heard Na-yeon’s hushed voice say. “Hyun-jugongju is crying.”

Hyun-ju cringed in Geum-ja’s arms. Couldn’t entirely remember how she had gotten there.

“That’s alright darling,” came Gyeong-seok’s whispered reply. “We’ve got her. She’s not alone.”

***

It felt like a dream. Gyeong-seok caught himself continuously drifting over to Na-yeon to put a hand on her head, bumping shoulders with people, popping morsels of food into his mouth even though his stomach was rioting, just to keep double checking that it wasn’t. It felt like a dream, but it also very much didn’t. Because even in his wildest dreams of them making it through, it had always been just him and Na-yeon.

He did his best to divide his attention. Did his best not to hog Hyun-ju’s, who was juggling a delicate balance herself. Aside from everyone wanting to ask her a million questions, Na-yeon kept gravitating back to her, kept continuously interrupting her conversations. And every time, Hyun-ju would gently ask her to wait while she finished up, while Na-yeon clung to her dress or leaned into her side or both. Never losing her patience, never letting her wait long, always making time to listen, to allow Na-yeon to pull her along to help her with a drink, or some food, or to play a game.

Gyeong-seok was having some incredibly clear and uncomplicated feelings about it, but he felt he was at least doing a fairly good job at staying normal about them. That was, until Na-yeon drifted over to Hyun-ju once more to tug wordlessly at her dress, lifting up her arms. Hyun-ju picked her up and settled her on her hip without hesitation, without stopping her current conversation with Gi-hun, and Gyeong-seok suddenly found he either needed a stiff drink, a solid cathartic cry, or his sketch book. Preferably all three.

He jumped a little when Dae-ho nudged him. He wordlessly handed Gyeong-seok a glass, who took it gratefully, took a deep swig. “I know people have already told you, but congrats.” Dae-ho smiled. “I can’t imagine what a load off your shoulders this must be.”

Gheong-seok nodded, then shook his head. “It still doesn’t feel real at times. It’s like…” he hesitated. “Like I’ve come out of the games all over again.”

“Now that, I can imagine.” Dae-ho took a sip of his own drink. “There’s days I wake up and I’m convinced, for the first few breaths, that I’m in a bunk bed. That as soon as I open my eyes, the music is going to start.” He shot Gyeong-seok a sharp grin. “Jun-hee keeps thanking me for making it out of bed first whenever the kid cries at night, but honestly? I’m just glad for the chance of waking up clear-headed.”

“They’re good at that,” Gyeon-seok nodded with understanding. “Kids come with a certain focus. Too much focus, sometimes. It’s easy to forget yourself.”

“I hear you. Don’t worry, I’m still working on my issues. Still going to Hyun-ju mandated therapy.” Dae-ho nodded across the room. “Speaking of. What are your intensions with Hyun-ju?”

Gyeong-seok barked out a surprised laugh, drawing the attention of the room, including the woman herself. Dae-ho shushed him sharply.

“I would have expected that question from Geum-ja or Gi-hun,” Gyeong-seok grinned, raising a hand to Hyun-ju to signal everything was alright. “Possibly Yong-sik.”

“Well excuse me for caring,” Dae-ho protested quietly, his voice so low Gyeong-seok almost had to lean in to catch it. “I just so happen to have four sisters, and, well you hear horror stories about strung out…intentions and the likes.”

Gyeong-seok smiled into his glass. “I’m sure I am not sure what you are implying.”

Dae-ho groaned. “Dude. Are you or are you not going to move to Thailand?”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose guest room privileges?” Gyeong-seok teased.

Dae-ho breathed out harshly through his nose. “If everyone could just stop making a big deal out of the one time I didn’t know how to react to a new situation that would be fucking great.”

Gyeong-seok blinked, startled. “I didn’t even mention… slow down!” He plucked Dae-ho’s glass out of his hand, which he had just downed in one fast go. “You’re switching to water. Are you alright?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dae-ho muttered moodily.

“Alright, then we won’t,” Geong-seok soothed. Hesitated. “But if you ever do need to talk about anything, you know where to find us.”

Dae-ho looked at him sharply. “Us?”

“… I mean me and Na-yeon,” Gyeong-seok said, a smidge too late.

Dae-ho grinned broadly, his mopey mood wiped away. “Sure you did.”

***

“Ah,” Geum-ja smiled, pausing her medical update on her hip issue, glancing past Hyun-ju. “Someone wants to talk to you. It seems important.”

Hyun-ju turned, already knowing who it was going be. Na-yeon was looking up at her with her hands in her sides and a tilt to her head. “You give the best hugs,” she declared.

The statement settled as a pleasant warmth around Hyun-ju’s heart. “Why thank you,” she smiled. “Do you need another one?”

Na-yeon wordlessly took her by the hand, and the warmth already wrapped around her heart seeped inside, melted her from the inside out. Hyun-ju let herself be pulled along, her hand feeling massive around Na-yeon’s tiny one, and yet completely powerless. It occurred to Hyun-ju that she may have given her heart to Gyeong-seok, but his kid appeared to have found a key all her own.

Na-yeon came to a stop at the door to the balcony. “Appa is out there.” She looked up at Hyun-ju with a face much too serious for a five-year-old. “He could use a hug.”

Hyun-ju didn’t attempt to hide her sudden worry. “He does?”

“It was a long journey for him too.” Na-yeon pressed her hands and face against the glass door, looking out. “He gets really tired sometimes. Because he has to carry me.”

Hyun-ju was going to cry all over again. Because Na-yeon had not only heard her words, but she’d understood them. Because she was so obviously, deeply concerned about her appa.

“You carried him too,” she managed. “You’re a power team, the two of you.”

Na-yeon seemed to think that over, before she nodded. Before she looked up at Hyun-ju with a sly smile that she definitely got from her appa. “He’s heavy sometimes.”

Hyun-ju raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Na-yeon nodded decisively. “Very heavy. Super heavy,” she emphasized dramatically. She tilted her head. “You’re strong.”

Hyun-ju’s insides were turning into pleasant goo. “Is that right?”

Na-yeon nodded happily. “You could help me carry appa.” She looked up at Hyun-ju with such an open grin, without a trace of doubt that Hyun-ju was even going to consider saying no, and, yup, she was going to cry again, wasn’t she?

“Always, gongju.” Hyun-ju offered Na-yeon her pinkie. “You and me, we’ll look after him, won’t we?” The child hooked her own pinkie around Hyun-ju’s without hesitation. Together, they turned their hands, pressed their thumbs together. A solemn promise. Na-yeon grinned, and then she was gone, happily skipping back to the table with snacks, to pester Min-su into handing her some. But Hyun-ju could still feel that little thumb, pressed into her own.

***

Gyeong-seok had been leaning on the banister, pensively staring out over the city skyline. He looked up when the door opened. Found his mood lifting instantly when it turned out to be Hyun-ju, stepping out to join him.

“Hiding from the party girl?” she asked, closing the door behind her, blocking out the sounds.

“A little,” he admitted. “Geum-ja told me it’s not healthy for kids to have their parents hover all the time. Which is… hard.” He grimaced. “I’m going to have to learn not to panic whenever she coughs. Or scrapes a knee.” He froze for an instant when she placed her hand on top of his, leaned into his side.

“I could tell you to stop worrying,” she said, “but I know you never will. So I will simply tell you that there’s plenty of us to share your worries with now. Please remember that.”

Her weight, her warmth, her words, they grounded him in a way the solitude had failed to do. When he wrapped an arm around her, when she nestled deeper into his side with a content sigh, he found that the voices in his head went blissfully quiet.

“This is where you first kissed me,” Hyun-ju whispered.

He smiled. “I thought we kissed each other?”

She chuckled. “I almost didn’t. I was so terrified.”

“Me too,” he said seriously. “I thought, here’s a gorgeous woman who I think is into me, but if I’m wrong about this she could easily chuck me off the balcony.”

She grinned up at him. “And you risked it anyway.”

He gazed back fondly. “Well, I had to do something.”

“Did you now?”

“Well, yes. I’ve been staring at you ever since I first saw you.”

It caught her off guard. “What, like… love at first sight?”

He looked away, suddenly feeling flustered, slightly embarrassed. “Fascination at first sight, maybe. But I was a goner fairly soon.” He focused on his own hands on the banister, finding them suddenly rather fascinating.

“How soon?”

“This is embarrassing,” he groaned. Inhaled sharply when she planted a soft kiss in his neck.

“How soon?” she repeated.

Gyeong-seok never could say no to her. “In the games,” he sighed, not meeting her gaze. “Right after we took control of the dormitory. We were all so nervous, out of our depth. And you were so in control. Sergeant first class. Special forces. And then you dipped your head with the cutest little smile, as if you were embarrassed about admitting to being so badass, and I was just… gone.” He peeked at her hesitantly.

She looked adorably surprised. “That’s… that’s day one. The first day we met.”

“What can I say,” he murmured, feeling flushed, and embarrassed, but finding neither of those things a reason to lie. “You made quite the impression.”

She chuckled, dipped her eyes down as if that could hide her pleased smile. “I must admit I was a little behind.”

“Understandable. We were quite occupied with more pressing things. At least one of us had to be professional.”

She turned to properly face him, wrapped him in her arms. “Do you want to know when I knew?”

He embraced her in return. “Only if you want to tell me.”

She hummed. “I think I fell for you gradually, without really realizing it was happening. I was stuck in some serious denial for a while as well. Until I visited you at the park.” She grinned. “You were wearing that dorky hat.”

He groaned. “Seriously? I looked like shit that day.”

“Excuse me, you fell for me in a sweaty bloodied tracksuit,” she countered. “It was your eyes,” she went on. “They crinkle when you smile. You looked so honestly happy to see me, and I suddenly realized: Oh. So that’s why I’ve been so nervous around him.”

He found he couldn’t stop grinning. “I make you nervous?”

“Sometimes,” she confessed. Her voice dropped down to a whisper. “Mostly you just make me happy.”

Her words skittered over his spine, warmed him through and through. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I missed you too.” She tightened her arms around him. “I miss you all the time.”

He leaned in to kiss her. How could he not?

She pulled back. “But I can’t…” she took a steadying breath. He froze, as she clearly forced herself to look at him. “I can’t go back to living here. In South Korea.”

He almost sighed with relief. Was so, so grateful she finally admitted it. “I know,” he smiled. Which confused her, he could tell. She was scanning his face, looking for something she wasn’t finding. Sadness, perhaps, or even a hint of wistfulness.

“How long exactly have you known?” she asked slowly.

He shrugged. Admitted it easily. “Since before you left.”

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “…And you let me go anyway?”

“Let you…” he sputtered. “Hyun-juna, just because you’re mine doesn’t make you mine to control. You’re really happy there. You’re safe there.”

The surprise in her expression merged with something else, something incredibly soft. “Well. I’m really happy and safe when I’m with you too.”

And fuck. He already knew that. Of course he did. But to hear it from her so honestly, so easily, it almost brought him to his knees. He found himself gripping the banister for support. She must have noticed; she rested her hand on his. Gently pried him off.

“You can’t just keep flying back and forth. That’s not fair.”

“Sure I can.” He laced his fingers in hers. Grounded himself through her. “Sure it is. Why not?”

His quiet acceptance was clearly frustrating her. “Because… because,” she finished lamely.

He hummed. Dared to give her a little nudge. “What’s the alternative?”

“I can’t come back,” she huffed, annoyed. “I just said.”

He failed at fighting his smile. “I know.” Waited for her to stop orbiting the epiphany.

“And it’s not like I can just ask you…” she abruptly cut herself off. Pressed her lips into a hard line.

“Ask me what?” he said gently. Kept looking at her with a steady gaze.

“If… if you wanted to…” she faltered.

He didn’t rush to fill the silence. Squeezed her hand in silent encouragement.

Something flickered over her face, gone before he could name it. And then she was leaning in, kissing him gently. “I’ll ask you next visit,” she murmured against his lips. “Today is Na-yeon’s day. And yours.”

He bit back a groan of frustration. Would it truly kill her to think of herself first, for once?

She kissed him again, sweetly, as if she could read his mind. “It is, you know. Your celebration, as much as it is hers. You did everything you could, gave everything you had. Everything you are.”

“I hardly did anything,” he muttered, suddenly feeling too flushed, too seen. “The doctors are the real heroes.”

“Gyeong-seokya.” She put a stern finger to his lips. “You were there for her. You stayed.” She let out a pained chuckle. “To a child, that is everything.”

Anger flashed, hot and bright, taking him entirely by surprise. Not for his ex. Any sort of feeling in that direction had petered out long ago. But he had a sudden and dire need to meet Hyun-ju’s parents with a chair to the face. He pulled her into his arms, sudden and tight. “You deserved so much better.”

She let out a startled huff. Melted into his arms. “I did,” she agreed softly. Carded gentle fingers through his hair. “And now I have it.”

He huffed out a painful breath. Clung to her, and never wanted to let go. When they finally pulled back, she looked about as watery as Gyeong-seok felt. But her smile was warm, her hand steady in his.

“Now. Someone should probably check how much snacks the party girl has been eating.”

***

Gyeong-seok has made a group chat with Gi-hun, Geum-ja, Yong-sik, Dae-ho, Jun-hee, Min-su.

Gyeong-seok has named the group chat Operation Hyun-ju

Gyeong-seok: I am hereby swearing you all to secrecy.

Gi-hun: I’m in. Tell me what you need.

Yong-sik: About time!

Dae-ho: … oh it’s happening. Oh it’s finally happening *nobody panic*!

Chapter Text

Hyun-ju was feeling antsy, and she couldn’t pinpoint why. The feeling had started this morning, persisting like a low current humming in the back of her mind. There shouldn’t be any reason why. Her last checkup had been six days ago today: she’d been given a clean bill across the board. Dae-ho and Jun-hee had landed the day after for a bit of a holiday. It was Jun-hee’s first time in Thailand, and her first time away from her child for longer than two days. They had been doing all the touristy things, as well as hanging out with some of Hyun -ju’s friends. Things were great, everything was great, even the weather was nice, and yet, and yet, and yet…

“Everything alright?” Dae-ho asked lightly.

“Fine, fine,” Hyun-ju muttered absent-mindedly, scrolling on her phone.

“Only we’re here, and the taxi wants us out.”

“Oh!” She hurried out of the car, throwing an apologetic look at the driver. Immediately frowned at her phone again.

“Earth to Hyun-ju,” Jun-hee joked, nudging her. Causing Hyun-ju to jump, her phone flying out of her hands. “Ee! I’m sorry!”

Hyun-ju fumbled, then caught it on the second try. “I got it, I got it.”

“What is with you today?” Dae-ho chuckled nervously.

“Nothing,” Hyun-ju sighed, feeling silly. She’d been scrolling back through Gyeon-seok’s messages. She found she’d been doing that a lot today. They hadn’t exactly been talking about anything earth shattering lately. She’d been sharing pictures and stories of Dae-ho and Jun-hee’s antics, he’d shared some of Na-yeon’s latest drawings. Nothing out of the ordinary. So why did she keep looking as if there was a hidden message somewhere? Or worse, if there was a message on the other end, pending, typed and then untyped? What was she picking up on?

“Let’s go inside,” Jun-hee firmly said, steering them both into the restaurant. For such a tiny thing, she could be surprisingly forceful. It was the parent voice, Hyun-ju suspected. Gyeon-seok had the same superpower. Only Na-yeon has very recently discovered she could it ignore it, albeit her decision making on which bridge to fight over need a lot of work—

Dae-ho plucked the cellphone out of Hyun-ju’s hands. She’d started scrolling again. “One more day, and you’re rid of us again, alright? You can check your phone then.”

She grimaced. “Of course, yes. I’m sorry.” They were flying back tomorrow morning, and she was being a horrible host.

It turned out they were a little early for their table, so they had a drink at the bar while they waited. Hyun-ju stuffed her phone to the bottom of her purse, and tried to focus on her friends. It had been a really fun week, and she would be sad to see them go again. Truly. It was probably just that, she decided, which was making her antsy. That looming feeling of being alone again. Which, she wouldn’t even be for very long. Gyeong-seok was bringing over Na-yeon the week after next. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was just nerves. About the possibility of Na-yeon not really liking it here. About finally asking Gyeong-seok the question. The big one. When she realized Dae-ho was giving her another pointed look, she firmly shoved those thoughts to the bottom as well. Focused on the here, and the now.

By the time a waiter came over to tell them their table was ready, Hyun-ju had almost successfully shaken the weird feeling. And then Dae-ho and Jun-hee shared a look. A secret smile, like siblings up to no good, and the low hum at the back of Hyun-ju’s mind rose into a steady alarm signal.

“You won’t be joining us,” Jun-hee told Hyun-ju pleasantly.

“…I won't?”

"No," Dae-ho said lightly, and it suddenly dawned on Hyun-ju that they had both been doing that all day. Talk in that breezy, slightly nervous way.

She looked from one to the other. “What is going on here? Jun-hee, are you seriously telling me that you spent the better part of the afternoon dolling me up to the high heavens, just for you two to ditch me after two drinks?”

“Yup,” Jun-hee nodded.

“Only we’re not ditching you,” Dae-ho grinned.

“We simply feel like you should go home,” Jun-hee matched his grin.

Hyun-ju stared. Knew with a deep certainty she would never get anything out of Jun-hee. Turned her stare onto the weaker link. “Dae-ho. What is waiting for me back home?”

“Oh no.” He shook his head. “I’m not telling. And you can’t make me. I mean you could try,” he added. “You’re proper scary if you want to be. But it’ll be more fun if you just go home.”

“…Fun for who?” They both simply kept on grinning, which did not help quiet down her internal alarm.

“Just go home, unnie,” Jun-hee smiled. “We already called you a taxi.”

***

The ride home only took twenty minutes. Hyun-ju was finding she could get a lot of thinking done in twenty minutes. Mostly, she kept thinking the same thing, then immediately dismissing it. Then thinking it again, going round in circles. It couldn’t be Gyeon-seok. …Could it? She rechecked his recent messages again. They looked to be normal, everyday banter. Sure, he’d been a bit slow to respond today, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Life kept on happening, outside of this long-distance thing they were doing. Na-yeon’s celebration party had only been two weeks ago. It had been sweet, and short, and Hyun-ju had wanted to pack them both in her luggage and take them home. But it couldn’t be him. They were coming over in two weeks’ time. There was no reason for him to suddenly show up here early, without warning. Right? None that she could think of. None that her mind didn’t refuse to steer away from. None at all.

The lights were on in the house.

She thanked the driver and reached to pay him, but he waved her off. “Already paid, miss.” He had a twinkle in his eyes too, when she got out. Was everyone in on this? Whatever this was? She opened the front door. Went to take off her heels, and stared.

She knew that pair of shoes. She’d know that pair of shoes anywhere. They looked good, sitting there. They looked even better with her heels slotted right alongside.

She rose up warily. “Aein?”

“In here.”

She barged further into the house. “What are you doing—” stopped, rather abruptly.

Gyeon-seok was waiting for her in the living room. He was wearing his fancy jacket. The one she liked best on him. His hair looked artfully tousled, in that way that took him absolute hours to do. The scent of her favorite food was wafting out of the kitchen. There was a smile on his face, a bright and nervous thing. And flowers in his hands. Roses, deep red. Again, her favorite.

Her mind was slotting evidence into place as fast as it was tossing it back overboard. Because things like this didn’t happen to people like her.

“Hyun-juna,” Gyeong-seok said, sounding serious, gripping the flowers. He looked utterly determined and utterly nervous, and her heart swelled with affection. “I’m not the kind of artist that can paint with words, I’ve always been better with my hands… Stop laughing…” He shot her a warning look, but he was grinning right along. “And I wanted you to know that… no, stay right there, you’re making me nervous and I am trying to do this properly… Hyun-juna!” he warned, because she was still striding forward, only stopping when he thrust the flowers out, like a shield rather than an offering.

“That’s not how you hand over flowers,” she chuckled, standing one arms reach plus one bouquet of flowers apart.

“Will you let me do this,” he groaned. “Here, hold these.”

She took the roses, their fragrance heady and sweet. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Yes I did,” he muttered distractedly, struggling with his pocket. “I needed something to keep your hands busy. And flowers are traditional.”

Traditional. Hyun-ju’s mind was still fighting all the signs. Even as he pulled out the little jewelry box. Even as he locked eyes with her, holding it up.

“Cho Hyun-ju.”

“Yes, Park Gyeon-seok?” she joked.

“Please let me do this,” he pleaded. He visibly steadied himself. “You are an astounding woman, and I have no idea how I got so lucky to cross paths with you. To be loved by you. If you’ll have us, because, well, Na-yeon is kind of included in this deal…” a warm smile broke through his nerves as she chuckled at that. “I will do everything in my power to keep you happy, and safe, and loved.” He suddenly seemed to realize he never opened the box, and hurried to remedy that. “Will you be my anae?”

Anae. Wife. The word rang in her ears. She didn’t even see the ring. Wife. Rather than being a husband, she’d have one. Her.

She wordlessly lunged forward.

He hastily backed away. “No, no, stop, no getting me distracted.” He pointed the jewelry box at her in a stern threat. “Now. I made you dinner. You are going to sit, and you are going to let me feed you. Please,” he added, adorably nervous.

***

Gyeong-seok stared at Hyun-ju as she sat across from him at the table with a dazed sense of accomplishment. He did it. He’d gotten through the words without making a fool of himself. Hyun-ju had accepted the flowers, had allowed him to pull out her chair for her, was eating his food. And she hadn’t said no. She hadn’t said yes either, but that was normal, per Korean tradition. A bride to be was expected to think things through. Make an educated, well-thought out decision. Gyeong-seok wasn’t expecting an answer today. Knowing how methodical Hyun-ju was, he was actually fully expecting an interrogation. So when she looked up at him, he straightened up, sat to attention.

“You’re not simply doing this to get a Thai visa, are you?”

He relaxed slightly at her teasing smile. “Already got them. Courtesy of Gi-hun.”

She hummed. “I should have guessed that. Gi-hun, and Jun-hee, and Dae-ho… Is there anyone who wasn’t in on this?”

“Well, Yong-sik helped me pick out the ring,” he admitted. “And as for Geum-ja. Asking a parent is traditional.” He knew what she was about to say before she opened her mouth. Was deeply, profoundly happy she stopped herself. Hyun-ju deserved tradition, same as everyone else.

She took a moment to collect herself, to enjoy a few bites of her food. “Just to leave no things unsaid or unclear… I’m assuming your offer includes you moving here?”

“Yes,” Gyeong-seok said seriously. “Long distance marriage is kind of a drag.”

She snorted. “True.” She took another bite. Giving herself time. Probably giving him time to sweat a little as well. Which, just because he knew she was doing it, didn’t mean it wasn’t working. “You’d have to quit your job.”

“Already done.” He smiled at her obvious surprise. “Min-su is replacing me, staying on full time.”

“That’s… quite a gamble.” She tilted her head. “You seem incredibly sure of my answer.”

And he knew she was teasing. He knew that. But he still found the words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “I don’t want to pressure you. You can say no. Of course you can say no. But I wanted to show you I’m serious about this. About us. I don’t even have to stay here while you consider your answer, and again, no is a perfectly acceptable answer,” he rambled on. “I can leave after dinner, I’ve been renting a room downtown…”

“Hold the fuck up.” Hyun-ju leveled him with a calculating glare. “Exactly how long have you been here?”

“Ah…” he winced. “I’ve been here all week. I had some job interviews lined up. I didn’t hear anything back yet, but…eh…” He quelled under her affronted stare.

“A week? You’ve been sending me messages! You had selfies with Na-yeon and recent artwork and everything!”

“It was all prepped,” he admitted. “She’s been staying with Geum-ja.”

Hyun-ju was now openly gaping at him. “Should I be worried about how easy this was for you?”

“It was the hardest thing I ever did,” he confessed.

“You masqueraded as a triangle guard in the games.”

“The hardest thing I ever did,” he restated seriously.

It broke the tension. She smiled, took another bite. He waited patiently as she silently contemplated her next question. He knew she wasn’t simply looking for excuses. That she was methodically working through a list of pros and cons. And that was alright. He’d come prepared. She wasn’t the only one who could make lists.

“Can you guarantee me,” she said slowly, seriously, “that moving here won’t put Na-yeon’s health and follow-ups in danger?”

His heart swelled so sudden it ached. “We have been referred to a great specialist,” he assured her. “The very best.”

“It won’t be easy for her, moving.”

“Moving is never easy,” he agreed. “But she never went do daycare, kindergarten. There’s nothing there for her to miss. She’s not allowed to for a full year at least, per doctors orders. She’ll be six then. Immigrant kids her age get placed in kindergarten for a year, and Thai elementary school starts later than ours. So she won’t even have to start late.” He allowed himself a triumphant little smile when she looked impressed. He’d done his homework.

She fell silent, in a way that made Gyeong-seok sit to attention again. He had a sudden feeling that she wasn’t thinking up a question, but rather that she was formulating one she’d had ready for a while.

She put down her chopsticks, the gentle clicks punctuating the silence. “You know what you’d be getting into, right? I’m…” she hesitated. “Messy.”

“So?” He shrugged. “We’re all messy. We met at a game that fed on people that were down in the deepest pits of despair.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m not…” her gaze flickered away from him, suddenly nervous. “I’m not exactly…”

Anger flashed, hot in his gut. Don’t you dare. Don’t you ever dare.

She visibly forced herself to look at him. Forced out the words. “I can’t give you children.”

He hadn’t expected that. He blinked at her. Opened his mouth. We already have one. He almost said it. Almost. Didn’t. Reminded himself that he had already asked her to marry him, so just maybe he should give her time to think that over proper before sliding adoption papers across the table.

He unstuck his tongue. “One is plenty.” Her reaction was brief, a mere flash across her face, but Gyeong-seok knew it for what it was: relief.

When she spoke again, after a long pause, her voice was back to playful. “Are you sure your Thai is good enough to survive out here?”

“It’s passable.” He smiled. “Worst case, I can always go back to school with Na-yeon.”

She chuckled fondly. Gave him a warm smile. “You don’t have any concerns at all, do you?”

“Like what? I don’t have a career to speak of, I don’t have any friends aside from the ones we share… This is not making me sound like a catch at all,” he groaned, causing her to grin. “Where was I going with this? Ah, yes. You’re not the only one who can start over.”

Her smile turned somewhat wistful. “Won’t you miss home?”

He pulled a face. “And what exactly would I miss about it? The food? I can make that myself. The country?” He breathed out through his nose, the anger hot in his gut again. “The one that won’t let you be who you are?”

She dropped her eyes down, visibly flustered.

“You know who I do miss? Who I miss to the point I can’t get to sleep in an empty bed?” He lowered his voice. “Every night at dinner time, I have to watch myself so I don’t accidentally set the table for three. Every morning, Na-yeon waves to the west and shouts a good morning in your general direction. Every drawing she makes that has me in it, now always has you too.” He smiled self-consciously. “She takes after her appa that way. I can’t seem to stop drawing you either.” She was looking fixedly at the table. “Hyun-juna,” he said softly, pulling her eyes back to his. “To me, to us? Home is with you.”

She huffed out a sharp breath. “Bastard.”

He smiled. “You love me.”

“Supposedly,” she sighed, as if it was a hardship to admit to. She shook her head. “Alright. Closing question.”

He grinned. “Bring it.”

She fixed him with a stern look. “Is there any reason you can think of that hasn’t occurred to me, that would work against you and Na-yeon moving here?”

His grin widened. “I mean, maybe one. If you have to give up the guest room to Na-yeon, where will our friends sleep when they come visit?” He’d meant it as a joke. A tension breaker. But Hyun-ju’s face suddenly closed up carefully. “Did… did I say something wrong?” He looked on startled as she put her chopsticks down, got up, and walked out of the room without saying anything.

He was still sitting there, slowly panicking about what he could have possibly done wrong, when she poked her head back in. “Are you coming or what?”

He jumped up, rushed to follow. When he turned into the hallway to the bedrooms, he found her standing at a door. The mystery one. The one he had never ever seen open. It was closed now too.

“Open it.”

He looked at her unsure. Was she saying she had an office she was willing to eliminate? She raised an eyebrow at his hesitance, pointedly looked at the door. So he opened it. Stepped inside.

It was another bedroom. To be more precise and to the point, it was a kids bedroom. The walls were a soft yellow. The bedsheets had little bunnies on them. There was a drawing desk, with plenty of room for art material. Na-yeon’s favorite bedtime book on the nightstand, only this one in Thai. A nightlight shaped like a strawberry.

“When did you do this?” He whispered, not entirely trusting his voice.

“On and off.” She needlessly smoothed out the bed spread. “Bit of a project that slightly got away from me.”

He reached for her, stopped her nervous fiddling by taking hold of her hand. “Why?”

“Well, she was going to come over eventually, right?” She looked up at him shyly. “You’re a package deal. And kids need a place that’s just their—"

He silenced her with a sudden kiss. How could he not kiss her, when she said perfect and amazing things like that? “It’s a good thing I already asked you to marry me,” he murmured, in between kisses. “Or I might have done it right here and now.”

She chuckled, warm and deep, wrapping her arms around him. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he said, slightly distracted by her proximity, her scent, the fact that she had reserved and prepared an entire room for his daughter in her house like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Yes, Park Gyeong-seok, I will be your wife.”

He froze. Stared at her. Didn’t realize his mouth had fallen open until she pressed gentle fingers under his chin to close it for him. “…Tradition,” he stuttered.

“Ah. That.” She settled in his arms. Slid her hands into his hair. Smiled, so fucking bright, that for a moment, it burned away everything else. “I think I’m quite done playing by other people’s rules.”

***

Hyun-ju has entered the group chat.

Hyun-ju: You’re all liars and I don’t trust any one of you anymore.

Hyun-ju: But Gyeong-seok won’t let me uninvite you to the wedding.

Dae-ho: FUCKING FINALLY

Chapter Text

Gyeong-seok and Na-yeon moved in. And almost immediately, everything felt right as it should. Gyeong-seok slotted into the house with an ease built up over visits, only now he actually had clothes hanging in the closet. Na-yeon meanwhile had barged into the house much like Wangja had: as if she already lived there. She loved her room. She loved Wangja, even though he did not immediately share the sentiment, often finding himself hanging in her arms like a wearily resigned handbag. She loved having Hyun-ju at her beck and call for anything from nail polish to bed time stories to cuddles on the couch as they watched TV. And Hyun-ju had to concede that Gyeong-seok had been right; home wasn’t really a place, but people. And these two were hers.

But it crept up on Hyun-ju sometimes. Those pockets of time when it didn’t feel real. When Hyun-ju’s mind had to be reminded she no longer lived alone. When she got home from teaching to wonder why the lights were on. When she went to feed Wangja to find someone had already done so. When she woke up to the scent of breakfast and coffee. When she tripped over one of Na-yeon’s toys that somehow ended up absolutely everywhere. And those moments were always a little jarring. Made her breath catch, made her refind her balance. Made her heart swell with the reminder that this was her life now.

But then there were these other moments, that didn’t rise up as quaint little bubbles. Rather they struck, fast and sudden. Left her holding on for dear life in the doorframe, or against the kitchen counter, while she struggled to get her footing back. When she was reminded, sharp and overwhelming, that this was it, this was real, this was hers.

That first time Na-yeon woke up in the middle of the night and tiptoed over to their room. The girl had meekly whispered she’d had a nightmare, and Hyun-ju had made room without thinking about it, while Gyeong-seok lifted her up and into the bed. Na-yeon had settled between them with a tired little sigh, dropping off immediately. Gyeong-seok had reached over her to put his hand on Hyun-ju’s side, smiling at her apologetically, and Hyun-ju had almost forgotten how to breathe.

That time when they were out at the park, sitting side to side in the grass while Na-yeon ran around the playground. Another parent had asked them which one was theirs, and Gyeong-seok had lifted his free hand, the other intertwined with Hyun-ju’s for no other reason than that they could, had pointed at Na-yeon and said ‘that one’s ours’, without even a trace of hesitance or doubt.

When she caught Gyeong-seok staring at her, with that calculating gaze he got sometimes, which meant she would soon find him drawing her again.

When she woke in their bed in the middle of the night, not consciously knowing why, but already reaching for him before her brain fully caught on, pressing up against his back, pulling him close, murmuring soothing words until the whimpers stopped and his breathing calmed.

When Na-yeon, completely out of the blue and with zero warning, sitting at the dinner table, turned to her and said “Máa, I’m thirsty,” effectively short-circuiting Hyun-ju’s brain. After a moment of complete silence, Gyeong-seok had gently asked Na-yeon if she knew what that meant in Thai. It turned out that no, she didn’t really, she’d just picked up on people at the market smiling at her and pointing at Hyun-ju while using that word. Gyeong-seok had calmly explained that it meant omma, mom.

“Oh,” Na-yeon had said, understanding dawning. “Ok.” And then she’d grinned at Hyun-ju, as if nothing earth shattering was happening at all, and she’d said it again. “Máa, can I get something to drink?”

It was a good thing she bought those unbreakable cups, because Hyun-ju ended up dropping it. Ended up clutching her chopsticks so tight, until Gyeong-seok gently eased them out of her fingers. She didn’t manage another bite. Felt too full.

This was hers now. All of it. And it was so real it terrified her.

Omma, if you could see me now. Would you still cry for me? Would you stay silent, Appa, if you saw how loved I am?

“Do you want to invite them?” Gyeong-seok had asked her. Once, and only once. He had kept his voice carefully neutral, but she could read his disapproval easy. Couldn’t find it in herself to disagree. Told him no, that she was good. That she had all the family she needed already on their list.

It still hurt. Part of it would probably always hurt. But that didn’t make it her fault.

***

The wedding was two more weeks away. It hadn’t been too much work to organize. Nothing that had seemed insurmountable after getting through years of hospital appointments and paperwork. The hardest bit had turned out to get Hyun-ju to agree to patience. If it had been up to her, they would have gotten married mere weeks after his proposal. But Gyeong-seok had insisted on a larger window. He wanted to give Na-yeon time to settle. And while he didn’t voice it out loud, he also wanted to give Hyun-ju time. To see what she was getting into. A final chance to back out, should it not be what she was expecting.

And he knew it was stupid. That after all they had been through, both separate and together, moving in together in a different country wasn’t even really a challenge. That Hyun-ju wasn’t going to up and leave over something as silly as toys that hadn’t been cleaned up, or little freezing feet that insisted on crawling into bed a solid half hour before the alarm went off. That Hyun-ju had been there to hold Na-yeon through chemo, through getting puked on. That she had seen him at his absolute worst before even knowing his name. But trauma didn’t care about logic. Some days, it didn’t even care about facts, as clear and present as they were. Some days, all it would do was scream at him that everything was his fault, even the cancer, especially the cancer. That when his ex had claimed she was only leaving first because she knew they both wanted to, that she merely didn’t want to be the one stuck with a sick kid, that maybe, just maybe, she had been right. That he didn’t deserve—

He jumped a little when Hyun-ju’s hand slipped into his. He was sitting in his usual spot in the drawing room, but the page in front of him was empty.

“You looked sad,” she whispered, settled next to him.

He blinked, coming back to the here and now. Judging by the shift in evening light, he’d been zoning out for a while. Spiraling, until she pulled him out. He squeezed her hand. “Just… thinking.”

She studied his face, considering. “Do you want to talk about it?” She brushed a stray lock from his forehead. “Or do you want to stop thinking?”

“Stop thinking how?” he asked dumbly. He huffed in slight surprise at the press of her lips against his. At the rise of butterflies, warm in his stomach. How could kissing her still feel so new, and yet so familiar, so grounding? He hadn’t fully realized how tensed up he was until now. Until it bled out of him, bit by bit, as she kissed him gentle yet firm, bringing him back to himself. To her.

She pulled back, but she didn’t go far. Leaned her forehead against his. “Remember our second date?”

He grimaced somewhat self-consciously. “The one that ended with me pushed up against a wall, practically sobbing in your arms as you made me see stars?”

Hyn-ju hummed with a slight smile. “That too, yes. But I was thinking more of the questions we asked each other. We could do another round of those?”

He considered it. “And when we’re out of questions?”

Her smile widened. “I mean, I’m not opposed to introducing you to the walls here.”

“You’re very distracting when you say things like that,” he chuckled, nipping at her lips.

“Got you to smile again though,” she whispered, and the butterflies in his stomach practically took flight. “Do you want to go first?”

He steadied himself. He knew what she was really asking. Was offering. But he didn’t entirely feel like bleeding all over her couch. Even if it was his couch now too. But then, wasn’t that the entire point of marriage? To share, to support? To have and to hold?

He put his sketch book away. Pulled her into his lap. She came willingly, draping her arms around his shoulders, and he almost pulled her in further, to kiss her, take her up on her offer of just… forgetting. But he stopped himself. There would be time for that later. They had so much time now. “Sure, I’ll go first. Do you want someone to walk you down the aisle?”

He surprised her with that one. She glanced down, avoiding his eyes. “I can’t exactly expect someone to…" she let out a startled gasp, jumped a little in his arms.

“Hyun-juna,” he said sternly. “I didn’t ask you about other people. What do you want?”

“Did you just pinch me in the butt?”

“I did, and I will again, if you don’t answer truthfully.” He shot her a cheeky smile. “Misinterpret the questions at your own peril.”

She frowned at him, but he simply grinned, placed a warm hand on her butt as a firm warning, and also, yes, because he simply adored touching it.

“Now who’s being distracting,” she muttered. Then sighed. “Fine, yes. I would love for someone to walk me down the aisle.”

“Noted.” He rewarded her with a short kiss. “Your turn.”

She looked at him all serious. “You’ve been married before.” It wasn’t an accusation. There was no malice. Just her steady gaze, and her gentle fingers in his hair. “Are there any bad memories I should steer clear off?”

He tensed, almost going rigid under the surge of emotion, welling up from a place he had thought healed long ago. You can be mad at me, couples fight all the time, only don’t blame me for things outside of my control. You can choose to leave me, I would never wish to cage you, only don’t tell me you’re only leaving to beat me leaving first. And please, please don’t ever look at Na-yeon as if she is a burden you didn’t choose.

“Such as?” He croaked.

Her face fell at his clear discomfort. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“No,” he managed, “we do, if it’s important to you.”

She brushed soothing fingers over the nape of his neck. “What’s important to me is you. I don’t want to accidentally trigger anything.”

“How?” he asked. “You haven’t before. Why would that suddenly change?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps there are certain married nicknames you’d rather avoid?”

He hadn’t even considered that. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Her frown intensified. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I. You’re not her.” And just as sudden as it had arrived, the tension left his body, drained away. “You’re not her,” he repeated softly, pulling her in. “You’re Hyun-ju.” Pressed her close to his chest, slid his hands reverently over her back. Whispered his truth against her lips. “And you are mine, and I am yours, by whatever name you like.” Kissed her, lingering and deep.

When he pulled back she was looking flushed, and more than a little dazed. “Bastard,” she murmured.

He grinned. “Even that, yeah.”

She visibly pulled herself together. Settled him with a calculating look. “Nampyon.”

Husband. A warm smile tugged at his lips, blooming even further as he realized she was studying him, carefully noting his reactions.

“Jagi,” she whispered. Sweetheart. Not his favorite, but in her mouth, it sounded extra sweet.

“Yobeo.” Her gaze sharpened into something victorious, as if she could feel the sudden warmth as it spread through his chest. Which was so silly. It was just a word. Dear. But only married couples used it, and it was… alright, yes, it was a little old fashioned, but perhaps that was exactly why. Because it spoke of an assumed endurance. Settled domesticity. Of forever.

She kissed him like she’d won something, and he happily obliged, didn’t mind being her prize.

“And what will you call me?” she asked, pulling back slightly breathless.

He didn’t hesitate. “Anae.” My wife. Because that’s what she would be, and if that didn’t make him the luckiest person alive. He was going to be an absolute menace about it too, tell absolutely everyone, shout at the world how absurdly blessed he was that they had each other.

This time, when they pulled apart, she was softly panting. “Your turn.”

He grinned up at her rather wickedly. “Which wall were you thinking?”

She shivered delightfully in his arms. “Maybe the one in the bedroom, so we can’t be surprised by a wandering kid?”

“Good call.”

***

The huddle around Hyun-ju looked up at the knock on the door. Jun-hee, who was closest, went to answer it. But she only opened it wide enough to peek through. “Nope, you’re not getting in, this is a woman only zone.”

“You got Min-su in there!” Dae-ho’s voice whined from behind the door.

“You can’t prove that.”

“Just let him in Jun-heeya,” Hyun-ju chuckled. Dae-ho sounded incredibly nervous. Mind you, everyone seemed to be nervous, aside from herself. And possibly Gyeong-seok, but she wouldn’t know, as she hadn’t seen him since breakfast. He’d barely gotten the chance to kiss her goodbye before their friends had almost literally pulled them apart, stuffing Hyun-ju into a car. All of them had flown in the day before, and since Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok had absolutely refused to let them book a hotel, the house had been full to bursting. It had felt like Friday reunions all over again. Last nights’ dinner had been a cheerful confusion resulting in way too much food and almost as many conversations.

Putting them all to bed had been a bit of a puzzle. Gi-hun and Geum-ja got the bed in the guest room. Na-yeon’s bed had been given to Jun-hee, who shared it with her now-definitely-a-toddler. That left two camping beds for Yong-sik, Min-su and Dae-ho, the latter of which cheerfully suggested they play rock paper scissors for it, resulting in him losing and ending up on the couch. The plan had been to have Na-yeon just sleep in their bed, but she had gotten jealous of the various camping situations, and so Gyeong-seok had ended up building her a pillow fort on the floor. All in all, it had been messy, and overwhelming, and their bathroom was absolutely too small for this. But Hyun-ju wouldn’t have it any other way.

Since they had separated after breakfast, Geum-ja, Jun-hee plus toddler and Min-su had been with her the entire time, while Gyeong-seok had Gi-hun, Yong-sik and Dae-ho. Na-yeon had wanted to go with Hyun-ju, but Gyeong-seok somehow convinced her to stick with him. Which Hyun-ju had felt sort of sad about at first, until she came to realize just why she had been abducted so frigging early in the day. Getting ready for a wedding apparently took hours. Hyun-ju hadn’t exactly been privy to a lot of weddings growing up, so she had nothing to compare it to, really, but the day so far had been filled with being dragged to a beauty salon, where they had done her hair, and her make-up, even her nails. Hyun-ju’s plan at first had been to just… do all of that herself, but when Jun-hee had gotten wind of that, she had intervened with a fury Hyun-ju had been smart enough to simply step aside for. It had felt silly at first, to allow herself to indulge in this sort of treatment, but getting absolutely pampered while chatting with people she had missed dearly had been so pleasant, so relaxing. And when Hyun-ju had seen herself in the mirror after, she’d felt like a princess. It was a good thing the make-up artist had been informed of the nature of the event, and had used waterproof everything.

They’d grabbed a light lunch after, before coming to the venue. Before Hyun-ju had to put the dress on. She’d opted for something simple, lacy and white, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. No veil. A slight heel. Something she could move in. Something that made her feel comfortable and beautiful at the same time. Going by the many sounds of approval Geum-ja and Jun-hee had uttered while they helped her get dressed, Min-su on toddler distraction duty, Hyun-ju had more than a feeling she had succeeded.

The fact that Dae-ho was currently staring at her, jaw almost on the floor, certainly was a nice extra confirmation. “You look…”

Hyun-ju gave a little twirl. “Good enough?”

“Good en…” Dae-ho scoffed. “Are you insane? You look gorgeous! He’s going to take one look at you and faint.”

“I hope not.” She couldn’t stop grinning, couldn’t stop checking herself out in the mirror. “I’m going to need him vocal to actually agree to this.”

“Why are you actually in here?” Jun-hee demanded, shoving Dae-ho. “Did you get kicked out the groom suite for misbehaving?”

Dae-ho rubbed his arm with a pout. “Excuse me, I did not misbehave! I was kicked out for being nervous,” he admitted. “Apparently I was ‘not conductive to the vibe,’ or whatever.” He picked up the happy toddler, who had happily toddled over once she realized he was also in the room.

“How’s the groom doing?” Jun-hee asked.

Hyun-ju turned to the mirror to put in her earrings. “He should be fine. It’s not like this is his first time.”

“Urittal. No,” Geum-ja said sternly. “Every wedding is a first time. This is going to feel completely new.” She checked over Hyun-ju with a twinkle in her eyes. “Dae-ho might be right about the fainting.”

“Well in that case, if anyone can gently prop him up or something,” Hyun-ju grinned.

There was another knock at the door.

“Aeh, this isn’t a train station,” Jun-hee complained, fixing Dae-ho’s collar where the toddler had messed it up. Min-su hurried to open the door a careful smidge.

“Ten more minutes,” came Gi-hun’s voice. He sounded steady, albeit slightly gruff. “Everyone ready?”

Ten more minutes as a single woman. Hyun-ju stared at herself in the mirror. Wondered, for a wild moment, how she had managed to get here. What her younger self would have thought, if only she had known what was to come.

“You alright ttala?” Geum-ja asked quietly.

“I might need tissues before the day is over,” she admitted, blinking rapidly. She pulled Geum-ja in for a sudden fierce hug. “Thank you for being here.”

“Careful! Don’t ruin you dress.” But she hugged Hyun-ju back tightly. “I’m really happy for you. You picked a good one.” She gave her a stern look. “And if he ever does hurt you…”

“Please keep that knife sheathed,” Hyun-ju laughed, so incredibly touched she had people who cared enough to threaten violence. “Alright everyone, let’s try and get one last selfie in before we go out there.”

***

“Appa, are you nervous?”

Gyeong-seok squeezed her hand as they walked to the front of the hall. “How can I be nervous? I have you with me.”

Na-yeon grinned, and started skipping next to him, swinging his arm. It was, judging by the soft chuckles going up from the limited guests, incredibly endearing. He had to swallow down the sudden lump in his throat. It would hit him sometimes, out of nowhere. That Na-yeon was happy, and healthy, with a whole vast future ahead of her he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

When they made it to the front, Na-yeon still holding his hand while they waited for the rest to arrive so she could take her seat alongside in the audience, Gyeong-seok found himself dropping to his knee, hugging her tight. “May you find happiness much like this,” he whispered. “May you find people who care for you, who love you, in whatever shape or form that fits you. And if you ever make mistakes, if you are ever hurt, know that I will always be there for you. And so will Hyun-ju. No matter what.”

Na-yeon giggled, and wriggled free. “Appa, you’re being weird.” She kissed him on the cheek. “But I love you too.” And then she was gone, dashing over to Dae-ho, raising her arms to be picked up even though he was already holding a toddler. Gyeong-seok smiled at each of their friends in turn as they entered and took their seats; Dae-ho, who good naturedly wrangled both kids into sitting, ending up with both on his lap. Min-su, who still looked nervous, but who was learning to smile more and more. Jun-hee, who gave Gyeong-seok a small smile and an encouraging thumbs up. Geum-ja, who raised a single eyebrow in a clear message, to which he nodded seriously. Yong-sik, who gave him a look almost an exact copy of his omma’s.

And then Gyeong-seok stared at the entrance while the room fell quiet, as if they all collectively held their breath.

***
Hyun-ju blinked confusedly at Gi-hun, who was offering her an arm. “What are you doing?”

“Walking you down the aisle. What else?”

She stared at the offered arm without taking it. “I can’t ask you that.”

“You didn’t. Your husband to be did.” When she still didn’t move, he hooked her arm in his with a sigh. “Hyun-juna, you don’t always have to overthink things, you know.” He patted her hand somewhat awkwardly, and it was such an appa thing to do, that Hyun-ju promptly forgot to feel weird about any of it.

“Anything else he asked you I should know about?”

Gi-hun stared at the closed doors for a moment. “He told me I should really go and see my daughter.”

“You should,” Hyun-ju agreed softly. “I bet she misses you.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because all daughters miss their fathers.”

Gi-hun looked at her in a rare moment of mutual sadness. “Even the bad ones?”

“Bad fathers don’t usually consider themselves to be bad fathers.” She squeezed his arm. “You faced impossible odds. Why not reach out and be honest about that? To a point,” she conceded. “But at least give her an explanation. A chance. Show her the door is open.” She gently nudged him. “So many children would give so much, for the chance of a door left open.”

He grunted. “Right, that’s enough people wrangling out of you for today. This is your wedding. Focus on yourself. Or, if you can’t do that…” he tilted his chin forward as the doors were finally opened.

Hyun-ju followed his gaze. And froze.

Gyeong-seok was waiting for her, staring at her in pure adoration. She found herself being pulled in, grateful to have Gi-hun as a counter balance, else she might have actually made a run for it, as if she suddenly couldn’t wait another second. It seemed to take forever to finally get there, before Gi-hun disentangled their arms and stepped back, leaving them face to face.

Gyeong-seok’s gaze was all bright awe, staring at her with unconcealed love. “Beautiful,” he breathed out.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she grinned, finding herself already flustered, already choking up. “Very handsome.”

He swayed in slightly. “I know what you’re thinking.”

She leaned in to match. “Do you now?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Do not touch my hair. It took me forever. You can ruin it all you like after the pictures.”

“I thought you liked it when I ruin you?” she teased.

“Nae sarang.” His eyes turned so soft, so serious, as he took her hands in his. “You do the very opposite of ruining me.”

***

They had a small party, after the ceremony. Nothing major. Just good music, and good food, and above all, good people. Hyun-ju found herself separated from her newly minted husband somewhere along making the rounds, but not for very long. He appeared next to her, taking her hand in his, the new ring on her finger a pleasant pressure. “If you would all excuse us,” he smiled with a slight bow, and Hyun-ju knew what he was going to say before he said it, already felt giddy with it. “I would like to dance with my anae.”

They walked to the center of the dance floor together. He pulled her close before the music even started, his arm solid and steady around her waist, her hand cradled in his, foreheads almost touching.

“Hi,” he whispered, grinning.

“Hi.” It was easy to match his joy, so easy to fit into his arms. They were well and truly dancing before she realized she had taken the lead. That he had followed it without hesitation. The moment stretched out in a picture-perfect fairytale.

And then it was punctured by the pattering of approaching little feet. “I want to dance too!” Na-yeon wrapped herself around her appa’s leg, grinning up with the social awareness of a typical five-year-old.

Gyeong-seok froze. “Ah… Wait your turn Na-yeona, appa will dance with you after this one, alright?” He nervously looked from Hyun-ju to his daughter, who, on a regular good day, could absolutely have been convinced to patiently wait her turn. But this particular day had been a strange, busy, with emotions running high. And her appa was starting to panic, which Na-yeon was picking up on, getting clingier the more he tried to gently pull away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hyun-ju was aware people were moving in to intervene. But judging by Na-yeon’s face, which was progressively growing more upset, she was probably not going to go quietly. Making a split decision, Hyun-ju let go of Gyeong-seok, reached for her. She lifted Na-yeon easily, slotted her on her hip. Took Gyeong-seok by the hand, placed it back around her waist. “Alright, now you give your appa a hand, and we can all dance together like this, yes?”

Na-yeon happily obliged, latching on to her appa, clinging to Hyun-ju with her other arm, beaming from her new position of honor.

Gyeong-seok pulled them both close as they danced. Smiled warmly at his daughter, before dipping his head to whisper in Hyun-ju’s ear. “Let me know when she gets too heavy.”

“Yobeo. Look at me.” Hyun-ju’s gaze was as solemn as when she vowed to be his wife. “That is never going to happen.”