Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The day at Baekjin’s school turned out to be far easier than Baku had expected. He made his way to the classroom with a nervousness he had never felt before, his steps cautious and uncertain as he walked through unfamiliar corridors. Every passing moment, he was convinced that someone was watching him, judging him, noticing that something was wrong. He kept expecting eyes to linger on him, to see through the disguise of Baekjin’s face and realize he did not belong there.

But no one cared. 

No one was paying him any attention beyond a junior girls who glanced his way as they passed, offering him shy smiles. Out of pure habit, Baku almost smiled back until he remembered whose face he was wearing. They weren’t looking at him. They were looking at Baekjin.

The realization twisted something unpleasant in his chest. His expression hardened before he could stop himself, and he watched the girls’ smiles falter, their faces falling at the obvious disapproval on Baekjin’s face.

For the rest of the way, Baku kept his head lowered, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Once he sat down in Baekjin’s seat, the day moved far slower than he had anticipated. In his own classroom, it was easy. He could put his head down, close his eyes, and disappear into sleep without anyone bothering him. The teachers either ignored him or had long since given up trying to correct him.

But here, he had to remember every instruction Baekjin had given him: 

Sit somewhere in the middle. Not too far ahead. Not too far back. Don’t slouch. Don’t lean on the desk. Don’t look bored.

Every minute felt like a punishment. Like a needle constantly pressing against his skin, small but impossible to ignore.

Still, he was grateful that no one approached him. Neither the teachers nor his classmates seemed interested in him. For the first few periods, the distance felt comfortable. It was nice to have a moment where no one bothered you. No need to keep up the mask, no taunts from teachers. But as the hours passed, that same silence began to feel different.

Lonely.

When the bell rang between classes, everyone immediately moved toward their friends. They talked, laughed, teased each other, complained about assignments, shared stupid jokes. Baku found himself watching them despite himself.

They were surprisingly normal.

Their conversations were a little more childish than the ones he was used to hearing at his own school, their jokes a little more humourless, their problems so ordinary and maybe that was what made them feel their age.

They were just high school students.

And Baekjin was one of them.

Baku kept his head down, pretending not to care, but some small part of him waited for someone to come over. Anyone.

He wondered if Baekjin had even one person who would casually walk up and ask, “Are you not eating lunch?” or “Are you okay?”

Someone who noticed his absence. But no one came.

When lunch arrived, the classroom emptied one by one until Baku was left sitting alone. He stared at the rows of empty desks, the silence settling around him, and felt a kind of loneliness he had never experienced before.

Because this wasn’t his loneliness. This wasn’t the emptiness he had grown used to carrying. This was Baekjin’s. This was the hollow space Baekjin lived with every day. The quiet no one questioned. The isolation no one noticed. And maybe that is why it pierced him more than anything

During lunch, he finally messaged Baekjin, asking if he usually went to the cafeteria or if it would look strange for him to suddenly show up there.

As expected, Baekjin never ate at the cafeteria. Even though he paid for the meals.

Baku stared at the message for a moment before sighing. There was no point forcing it. He resigned himself to staying hungry for the day. At least he had told Baekjin to eat properly at his school.

One thing Baku discovered unexpectedly was his locker. Inside Baekjin’s locker had stacks of letters. Confession letters. They were neatly tucked away beneath perfectly folded sports tracks, arranged almost carefully, as if they had been kept with consideration. 

Baku stared at them, amused at first. 

Then he scoffed. Of course, even without doing anything, Baekjin had people confessing to him.

But as he looked at the pile longer, his expression slowly changed. There was something irritating about them. Something that made an uncomfortable feeling crawl beneath his ribs.

For one terrible moment, he considered reading them. Just to see what they said. But he immediately imagined himself getting angry enough to burn every single one, but instead, he grabbed the letters and threw them into the dustbin.

He stood there for a moment. Then, with an irritated huff, he picked them back up. Not because he cared about them or wanted Baekjin to keep them for whatever reason. He just didn’t know how much right he actually had to do anything on Baekjin's stead.

So he shoved them back into the locker messily and shut the locker hard enough that a few students flinched behind him. 

Once school was over, Baku was supposed to go straight home. That much, he remembered. But there was no way he could waste an opportunity like this.

If he was going to spend an entire day inside Baekjin’s body, then he needed to know everything he could about him. After all, that was the reason this had happened in the first place.

So instead of heading home, Baku turned toward the Daesung Bikes hideout.

The place was exactly what he had expected. A warehouse with a dark, rusted interior. Numerous bikes were lined up throughout the space, their metal frames catching the dim light. The air was stale, thick with the smell of oil, dust, and something unpleasant like dried blood and old dead skin clinging to the walls. Baku immediately scrunched his nose in disgust. 

At the far end of the warehouse was an office with its lights still on. He walked toward it, pushing open the door to find Dongha and Seongmuk already inside. He sighed.

Great. He had hoped to give himself some time. A chance to understand Baekjin’s world before having to face the people in it. He wanted to learn more about the business, figure out what kind of setup Baekjin had dragged himself into, and prepare himself before dealing with these guys.

But apparently, he was going to have to figure everything out while already in the middle of it.

“You’re back?” Dongha craned his neck from where he sat in the chair across from Baekjin’s desk, looking over his shoulder.

“What does it look like?” The answer slipped almost instinctively and immediately, he wondered if Baekjin would have ever replied like that. 

Strangely, Dongha didn’t seem bothered. His expression remained troubled, like his mind was occupied with something else entirely.

Baku walked over and took his place behind the desk. He kept his back straight, his movements controlled and stiff. His usual looseness wouldn’t work with Baekjin's body. 

Everything about Baekjin carried a different weight. Even the way he sat, the way he looked at people, the way he moved. Baku couldn’t just act like himself.

“Have you decided what to do?” Dongha’s voice broke the silence, fidgeting with a paperweight in his hands, turning it over and over anxiously.

“About?” Baku raised a single eyebrow and wants to praise himself for getting at least something similar to Baekjin pretty accurately. 

“About that gangster. Mr. Choi or whatever.”

Baku tried his best not to let the confusion show. He failed. A small frown formed between his brows.

“What about him?”

“You know he gave us only a week to make a decision, right?” Dongha leaned forward, resting himself against the edge of the desk. “He might send his men tomorrow.”

Baku’s eyes dropped toward the floor as he processed the words. He had no idea what they were talking about. But the fact it concerned a gangster was enough to rattle him. 

Until now, he had always thought Baekjin’s world was limited to school fights, extorting money from weaker students, maybe stealing phones from kids who couldn’t fight back. That was the extent of it. He had never imagined Baekjin could be tangled up in something this serious. The thought made his chest feel strangely heavy. 

He wondered what he would have said if Baekjin had approached him and asked him to join a gang.

The answer came easily but he couldn’t give that answer. Not as himself. Right now, he had to keep Baekjin and his boys in his mind. 

“If you were me, what would you do?” The question left his mouth carefully. Dongha’s brows shot up, disappearing beneath his hairline. His mouth parted slightly, his expression showing what Baku could only describe as complete disbelief. Even Seongmuk, who was usually difficult to read, looked surprised. Baku stared at them, confused by their reaction.

“What?”

“What kind of question is that?” Dongha let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re the one—”

“If I said if,” Baku cut him off, irritation creeping into his voice. “I’m just asking for your advice.”

He closed his eyes, forcing himself not to react to the absurdity of their expressions. Dongha stared at him for a moment before scoffing. Then he leaned back into his chair, looking far too amused.

“Since when did you start taking my advice?” 

Baku shot him a sharp side-eye, but Dongha didn’t seem even slightly deterred. If anything, he looked completely comfortable. 

He knew people feared the new uprising of the notorious Union and the king of Yeongdeongpo but that didn't seem to be the case with these two at all. And that made Baku wonder just what kind of relationship Baekjin actually had with these people.

One moment, they acted like they were strictly his subordinates—waiting for his decisions, following his lead, treating him like someone they answered to. And then, moments later, they spoke to him this casually. Like friends.

Like they knew him. Like there was a familiarity Baku couldn’t understand.

“Anyways, since you asked, I’d probably accept.”

Of course you would, Baku thought. He kept the comment to himself.

“You know the inflow of cash is going to be crazy. Once we make enough, we can start a legitimate business after we graduate.” Dongha shrugged casually. “Until then, let’s just accept his offer.”

“Once we graduate…” Baku dragged out the words, staring at him. “Are you sure we’ll be able to leave this stuff behind once we get into it?”

“Why not?” Dongha answered so easily that it almost irritated him. Like there wasn’t even a possibility of things going wrong.

Dongha leaned forward again, perching himself on the edge of the desk, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I mean, he offered you the position of manager and said you could run his bowling place like an actual business. He’s even letting us continue doing what we already do—the buying and selling of iPhones and bikes.”

His excitement only grew. “On top of that, he’ll protect us from the police. Fuck, this is a gold mine.”

Baku looked away. Dongha looked like an excited puppy drooling at a treat, completely blinded by the promise of something better. It was almost ridiculous. 

“What do you say, Seongmuk?”

Once again, Seongmuk looked like a deer caught in headlights. His gaze moved between Baku and Dongha, as if he had suddenly found himself dragged into the middle of an argument he hadn’t prepared for.

Dongha snickered at his reaction.

“I’ll follow whatever you two decide.”

Dongha smirked at him, but Baku noticed the faint fondness hidden in the crease around his eyes. He knew that look. A simp when he saw one. Baku rolled his eyes.

He nodded in understanding and began absentmindedly playing with the key in his hand, his mind racing through everything he had just learned. Whatever he thought about this offer, he knew it was probably the exact opposite of what Baekjin would think. Because the offer was everything Baekjin seemed to want.

Power.

Money.

Respect.

A way to prove himself. 

But deals like this never came without a cost. There was always risk. The risk of getting trapped in something Baekjin wouldn’t be able to escape from.

And Baku had once promised himself something—He was going to protect Baekjin no matter what. 

There had been a time when that promise felt meaningless—The first time Baku realized Baekjin no longer needed him to protect him from bullies. Baekjin had grown stronger. He had built an iron fist of his own, and after that, he never needed Baku to step in anymore.

Baku had thought there was nothing left for him to protect. Until now.

“I’m thinking we shouldn’t accept it.”

The room went silent.

“What?” Dongha’s voice rose so loudly it echoed through the office.

Baku looked at him calmly. “He seems like a dangerous man.” He spoke slowly, as if laying out the obvious. “I don’t want to risk the safety of everyone by getting tangled up in actual gang business.”

“But think about our dream of having a real business, Baekjin-ah.” Dongha looked genuinely baffled. “Did you forget why we started in the first place?”

“Why did we start in the first place?” Baku asked without missing a beat. But he didn’t regret it. Grabbing at the opportunity desperately, to know the answer to something he has only ever questioned himself and never to the man he wanted an answer from. For once, he had the chance to hear it.

Dongha opened his mouth. Then paused. The confidence on his face faded slightly. “To…” He hesitated then looked away for a moment.

“To earn a lot.” His voice softened. “To live a life with dignity.” A small pause. “And to have people respect us.”

That sounded like a load of bullshit to him where he almost scoffed at Dongha's face. 

Who did what they do to earn respect? 

“Do you think we’ll gain respect from this shitty gang stuff?”

“Depends on where you’re looking for respect.” The answer came from Seongmuk, delivered as flatly as his expression remained. But something about his tone made Baku realize they were starting to notice he was behaving  uncharacteristically. 

“If you want society to respect you, then why do all this in the first place?” Seongmuk continued. “You should’ve just stuck to being the studious worm holed up in some cram school.” 

Baku looked at him in mild shock. He hadn't known these boys held that much voice in front of Baekjin. 

“I don’t understand why you’re talking like this when you were the one who had the most fire in your eyes back then.” Dongha’s voice cut in. There was no irritation in it. No anger. Only confusion. Genuine confusion. Like he was trying to understand something that didn’t make sense to him.

“Is this about Baku?” Baku’s gaze snapped back to Seongmuk. For a moment, he wondered if he had heard wrong.

“Why bring him up?” The words came out sharper than intended. Seongmuk didn’t even flinch.

“It’s clear you still want him.”

Baku froze.

“We’re here, but you still want him.” His tone remained calm but there was some density in his eyes. “And I’m not saying that’s unfair to us. But it tells more about your feelings than your intentions.”

Baku blinked. Once. Twice. He tried to replay the words in his head, searching for some hidden meaning, but all he found was confusion. He couldn’t understand what Seongmuk was getting at.

“What are you trying to say?” He asked slowly, tilting his head slightly.

“Let’s just leave this.” Seongmuk muttered under his breath and stood up.

“I’ll just say this…” His gaze moved between Dongha and Baku. “I’ll follow whatever you two decide in the end.”

He paused. “And honestly…” A tired sigh escaped him. “I don’t fucking want to get beaten up by those adults again.” Then his eyes shifted toward Baku. “And I definitely don’t want you breaking their bones.”

He gestured toward him with his chin. Dongha immediately smirked at the memory of Baekjin going berserk on Choi’s thugs.

“Let’s just keep our business to ourselves.”

With that, Seongmuk walked out. Leaving behind a confused Dongha, his argument forgotten, his words dying in his throat because somehow Seongmuk had suggested the very thing that went against his own point.

Baku stayed silent for a long moment, trying to piece everything together.

“So…” Dongha’s voice broke through. He dragged the word out. “It’s decided then?”

Baku leaned back into the reclining chair and closed his eyes. After a moment, he nodded.

He heard Dongha release a deep sigh. His fingers tapped against the desk, restless, like there were still words sitting at the edge of his mouth. But eventually, he seemed to decide against saying them.

“Okay.” He exhaled and pushed himself away from the chair. “I’ll go—”

The door slammed open. A loud metallic clack echoed through the office. Baku’s eyes opened immediately.

A man walked in with slow, steady steps. Confidence radiated from him, arrogance dripping from every movement like he owned the place. And for all Baku knew, maybe he did.

Seongmuk followed behind him, looking unusually unsettled, while Dongha stared wide-eyed. Baku immediately assumed this was the man they had been talking about.

Mr. Choi.

He didn’t know how Baekjin would have reacted seeing him. But Baku wasn’t Baekjin. He had no history with this man. No reason to show respect he didn’t feel. So he stayed seated, swaying slightly in the chair.

The man’s eyes remained hidden behind the black sunglasses he refused to remove. Dongha’s gaze kept moving between them, his expression caught somewhere between shock at Choi’s arrival and disbelief at Baku’s refusal to stand.

The man stood in front of the desk with his hands in his pocket. Looking down upon him with the way his chin was held up in pride. 

For a long moment, there was only the sound of a leaking tap somewhere behind the wall and the ticking of the clock between them. 

Eventually, Baku leaned forward, forcing himself into a more composed posture. He rested his arms on the desk, meeting the man’s presence without giving him the satisfaction of seeing him intimidated.

Choi scoffed. Then, with effortless confidence, he pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. He leaned back, mirroring the same casual elegance he had entered with.

Baku’s eyes shifted past him, toward Seongmuk, and that was when he noticed two men standing outside the office. Both of them were nearly twice Seongmuk’s size.

Baku clicked his tongue quietly.

“What did you decide?” The man’s voice was deep and smooth, carrying an unsettling calmness.

“About?” Baku raised a brow. By now he knew what this might be about due to his conversation with Dongha and Seongmuk but he still wanted to feign ignorance just for the sake of it. 

The man smiled, already reading it. But that doesn't seem to offend him. Instead he looked amused. Maybe even impressed. Then he laced his fingers together, resting them casually in front of him. “My offer of affiliating your union with Cheongang.

Baku inhaled slowly through his nose and let the breath out. He let the question sit between them to feign consideration even if the answer sits at the tip of his tongue. 

“Thanks for the offer.” His voice remained steady as he spoke. “But I’ll keep my business to myself.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then the man laughed. Not a short laugh. Not a mocking chuckle. A long, drawn-out laugh that went on long enough for Baku to fail at hiding the disgust that flashed across his face.

His eyes instinctively flicked toward Seongmuk and Dongha. They looked just as uncomfortable. They were simply better at hiding it.

When the man’s laughter finally faded into a smirk, he clicked his tongue. Then, finally, he removed his sunglasses.

Baku had already expected him to have a face that matched his attitude. And sure enough the man was handsome.

“You really thought I was offering?” His tone was syrup-sweet. Almost gentle. Which somehow made the imposing sentence more threatening. 

He leaned forward, mirroring Baku’s posture, but somehow managing to make it look far more intimidating.

“Already forgot what I told you?” His expression hardened. “This is your chance, Na Baekjin.”

His voice lowered, eyes sharpened. “A chance to climb the ladder and sit at the very top. Expand your union. Do whatever you want. People will fear you. They’ll hear your name and show respect. You’ll be under my wing, and soon, I’ll make your dream of having your own business come true.”

Baku could see the brightness in his eyes that looked almost clownish. The one that you see in adults when they are trying to appease a child. Or trying to lure them into doing something. Promises of candy only to shove bitter liquid down the throat. Mr Choi's promises looked appealing too. From the perspective of a child who had too much financial burden that for him the future looked hopeless, the offer couldn't be any better. A legitimate business in exchange of some shady work for a few years and then everything would fall in place. It was a perfect temptation. 

But he knew better. 

A faint smile returned. It looked more crazed to him now. “Doesn’t that sound great?”

Baku's eyes didn't reflect the hopefulness Mr Choi so desperately was trying to project on him. The man's eyes dim. His smile faltered. His fingers tapped against the desk as he once again clicked his tongue, staring at him. Baku’s eyes were blank.

“All I’m asking is that you manage my bowling alley. In return, I provide you protection.” Then his expression shifted. “You should really think carefully about my offer.” His voice carried something almost persuasive, like hanging on last threads. 

“Because this is something you could never achieve by working your ass off for decades. The slave you’ll become to the capitalists?” His lips curled. “Why dream small when you can become the capitalist yourself?”

Baku heard every word and yet, somehow, none of it made sense. The offer was tempting, he could admit that. Power. Money. Respect—everything Baekjin had probably spent years chasing. Everything someone like him might look at and think was impossible to refuse.

But if Baku had learned one thing with absolute certainty, it was this—to never give in to greed. Never make a deal with the devil. Because no matter how high it carried you, eventually, you would have to pay the price.

He wondered if Baekjin remembered the things he had once told him. The words from the priest at his church. The warnings about temptation. About choosing the easy path when it came at the cost of your soul.

Would Baekjin have remembered? Would he have refused? And more importantly, was Baku even allowed to make this decision for him?

There was a time when he had sworn he would protect Baekjin. And now, when that promise finally had a chance to mean something, he was hesitating? 

“I said, no.” The words came out firm. Final.

The atmosphere changed. Baku saw a darkness flicker in the man’s eyes. Like a crack forming in glass, revealing something ugly that had been hidden underneath.

His jaw shifted and a crooked smile slowly formed on his lips. Amusement. Almost disbelief. He sucked in a breath through his teeth before exhaling sharply.

“Na Baekjin…” The warmth disappeared from his voice. “What did I tell you?” His voice dropped lower. His face turned cold. “I have limits to how much I can push. I thought you were smart enough to understand how far this offer extends in your situation.”

Baku stared undeterred. 

“Yeo-il High.” The man tilted his head slightly, as if searching through a file stored in his memory. “Is that where you study?”

Baku froze. If Baekjin had been standing there, he would have hidden his reaction. He would have kept his face blank and controlled. But Baku wasn’t Baekjin. His eyes widened. His heart dropped.

Because suddenly, the offer didn’t feel like an offer anymore.

“The top student who earned his admission through scholarships.” The man nodded in mock acknowledgment. His lips twisted into an expression of impressed amusement. 

Then, suddenly, his expression shifted. His brows furrowed. A look of false curiosity crossed his face. “But what happens when they realize that their top student runs a shady business in illegally occupied hideouts?” he raises his brows like he was genuinely concerned. “Robs other students and is involved in running an organized crime ring outside of school?”

If it was possible, Baku felt his heart sink even further. This time, however, he managed to keep his expression under control. He refused to let Choi see exactly how much the words affected him. Because that was what the man wanted. A reaction. A crack. And Baku would not give him one.

“Will they want their reputation tarnished by a double-faced little boy?” Choi’s voice turned falsely concerned.

“A boy who holds onto his reputation and studies for dear life while having his hands stained by his own peers’ blood?”

The mocking sympathy in his voice made something inside Baku twist. What infuriated him most was that Choi knew exactly where to strike. And worse—It was working.

Because whether it was Baekjin or Baku, they both knew one thing— Baekjin’s studies mattered more than anything. That was the one thing he had protected above everything else. And with the way Baku had reacted, he had just shown Choi exactly where his weakness was.

Baku slowly sharpened his expression. He pressed his lips into a thin line, forcing himself to appear unaffected.

Then he leaned forward. “Which is exactly why I’m saying…I’m too attached to my studies.” His voice remained calm despite the tremor inside  “I want to stay where I am. Continue doing what I’m doing.”

He tilted his head slightly, slipping into the careless attitude he usually carried through his own life. “Ahjussi, I don’t know what you saw in me that made you approach me and my boys with an offer like this…But I’m not interested in any of this.” 

His gaze remained steady and his smile easy.  “Beyond being a group of boys, I don’t want to expand this into something bigger.”

“And if I somehow fuck up…” He leaned closer. Not aggressively. Just enough to make sure this part was understood better than everything else, “I still want to walk away without facing consequences that are beyond my control.

His eyes narrowed accusingly. “And that doesn’t seem like something your offer guarantees.”

Then he leaned back completely, returning to the chair. “Please find someone more suitable for this.” His tone softened. “I’m not built for it.” It was as polite as he could make it. And it went against every instinct in him. He does not wish to get on bad terms with a gangster no matter how much of his pride gets grated in the process. He could never endanger Baekjin just because he couldn't digest some attempt at intimidation and coaxing. 

Choi looked away. His eyes dropped toward the desk. His fingers began playing with the paperweight, rolling it slowly between them as he thought.

The silence stretched and stretched. Baku felt his heartbeat become louder with every passing second. Like a time bomb counting down. The longer Choi remained quiet, the heavier the air became.

His nerves frayed. He glanced toward Dongha and Seongmuk and they looked just as tense, their eyes moving between him and Choi, concern obvious despite their attempts to hide it.

“Not even if I offer you the money for your business in advance?” Choi didn’t look up when he said it. He simply continued rolling the paperweight on its edge.

“No.” The answer came immediately. There was no hesitation. Maybe because there was no attachment to the ambition that was being negotiated here. Which was unfair, sure. But no amount of money in the world was worth Baekjin’s safety. He would not trade it. Even if Baekjin himself might have chosen differently.

Though, perhaps that was something he needed to know. What would Baekjin have done if he were standing here? Would he have accepted? Would he have seen this as an opportunity? Or would he have understood what Baku understood now?

“Money can only take me so far.”

Choi’s sharp gaze snapped toward him and the man stared. A long, unreadable minute passed.

Then Baku gave him a small, restrained smile that might as well be read as apologetic but was just an act to look humble and submissive, hoping to get away from him unharmed. 

The man rolled his eyes and sighed, the sound curling with contempt. "Maybe you really are a loser after all," he muttered loud enough for Baku to hear. "I mistook you for someone capable. Someone who actually wanted to rise up instead of dying like a cockroach."

Choi threw the bait, but Baku didn't bite.

"Sorry," he said, offering a boyish smile. It landed perfectly as rage-bait; Baku watched the man's eye twitch at the curve of his lips, the muscles in his jaw working. Baku let the smile fade, toning it down and looked away, studying the dust motes in the air.

Choi stood sharply, his chair toppling backward with a clatter. "Then pull out of the market," he said, voice clipped and final. "If I ever see any of your boys lurking around my area again..." The fire in his eyes was no metaphor. Raw, genuine fury burning there, the kind that came from a wounded ego. And there was little to be done for a man's ego; rejection, however politely wrapped, always tasted like ash. 

"There won't be another warning, kid. You’ll straight up attend the funerals of your underlings if my men catch them again."

With that, Choi turned and strode out. Only when he crossed the threshold did Baku notice the face hovering outside the office door. 

Baekjin, standing in the shadows, watching. Listening. 

As soon as Choi's footsteps faded, Dongha sprawled across the wooden pallet with a groan, and Seongmuk righted his chair before slumping into it, heaving a sigh that seemed to deflate his entire frame.

"Hell," Dongha said, staring at the ceiling, a wide crooked smile playing on his lips. "I thought we were going to die today."

"I never thought you'd handle it like that," Seongmuk added, his voice indifferent as always. "It's a good thing you decided against it. That bastard would have shot us dead the first chance he got."

Baku heard them, but his eyes remained fixed on the door. Baekjin stepped from the shadows and crossed the threshold, fury radiating from him in waves. His eyes blazed, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

Dongha followed Baku's gaze and let out a low whistle. "Oh, hello there," he said, pushing himself up on his elbows. He sounded genuinely delighted.

"Leave," Baekjin said, his voice low and grave, eyes locked solely on Baku. He didn't spare his boys a glance.

"What?"

"I said leave, Dongha." Baekjin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth, visibly restraining himself from something violent.

"Wow," Dongha laughed, the sound awkward and strained, shock evident in his voice. "It's strange hearing you use my name. Is this the first time?" He continued to press, oblivious or deliberately provocative.

Baekjin shot him a glare so deadly that Dongha immediately looked to Baku for rescue, a gesture so out of place it offered a strange glimpse into Baekjin's dynamic with these boys. Under different circumstances, Baku would have catalogued the interaction, filed it away for later understanding. But right now, he couldn't see past the jealousy burning in his throat, bitter and barbed, at how close they stood to what was his.

Baku nodded curtly. Dongha and Seongmuk scrambled from the office without another word.

"Have you lost it, Baku?" Baekjin gritted out, teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached. "What the fuck did you do?"

Baku sighed, leaning back in the chair with an infuriating calm that made Baekjin want to shove him through the wall. 

"I'm assuming you can tell what I might have done?"

"You ruined everything."

Baku closed his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips as he shook his head. "More like I fixed it for you."

"Fixed?" Baekjin barked out an incredulous laugh, grinding his teeth as he rolled his head away. He stepped closer, positioning himself at Baku's side. "Why did you do that?"

Baku swiveled his chair to face him, the gesture casual, arrogant. "Do I really need to explain that?" He tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Isn't it obvious?"

"You ruined my chances to—"

"To?" Baku prompted, raising a brow in challenge. "To what, Baekjin? Become a real gangster?" His lips curled in something close to disgust. "Is that what you wanted to be?"

"It isn't too late," Baku continued, his voice taking on a mocking edge. "Go run after that old man and take the offer. I'm sure he wouldn't want to lose a precious gem of a dimwit like you, starving to be acknowledged as someone worthy." His face twisted by the end, bitterness seeping through.

Baekjin stared at him as if he'd spoken gibberish. "What?" he breathed.

"What else?" Baku stood suddenly, anger flaring hot and sudden in his veins. The chair slid back and collided with the metal cabinet behind him, the clatter loud and sharp between them. "Why the fuck would you want to submit to someone like him? For money? For everything he offered?"

"And?" Baekjin shot back. "Why does it bother you? Do you want me to open a chicken shop like your father and become a miserable child beater?"

"Baekjin," Baku growled, grabbing Baekjin by the collar and yanking him flush against his chest, his eyes furious, his chest heaving like a bull ready to charge. Baekjin looked unaffected at first glance, but look closer and you'd see his pupils trembling with anger, exertion, or something else entirely, Baku couldn't tell. His grip on the collar trembled with restraint, his lips curling in frustration.

"Go ahead," he pushed, shoving Baekjin back, creating distance between them again. Baekjin stumbled but steadied himself quickly.

"Choose him," Baku spat, "and I will never fucking bother with you again. Go, become whatever you want. Do whatever you want. But know this, Baekjin—" he raised a pointed finger, his voice unwavering, his gaze hard—"you will never, ever see me again."

He poured every ounce of conviction he possessed into the words, his chest burning with them.

Something shattered behind Baekjin's eyes, glass breaking. His stone-set expression finally cracked, and he stared at Baku with muted disbelief. Baku didn't stay to elaborate. He pushed past, the cramped space forcing their shoulders to bump, and Baekjin stumbled back like a leaf caught in a gust.

Just as he reached the door, Baekjin's voice stopped him mid-step—small, barely above a whisper.

"Baku... all this, over something like that?”

Baku stared at the floor. He heard the hurt in Baekjin's voice and ran through his words again in his head. He scoffed, turned around, and walked back closer to Baekjin. "Let me ask you the same question. All this, over what, Baekjin?"

He stared into Baekjin's eyes, hoping to find an answer the longer the silence stretched between them. Maybe he wasn't seeing the full story. Maybe something hid behind those eyes, buried in layers he couldn't read or maybe Baekjin was simply too good at concealing his depths.

He sighed. "You made your choice months ago. It's useless to expect anything else now." Baku looked away. "You can do whatever you want. It's your life. I can only do so much, Baekjin." He turned to leave again.

"Where are you going?" Baekjin called after him, making him stop once more. Baku looked up, exhausted, and exhaled sharply.

"Home," he said slowly.

"With my body? Your father will kick your ass."

Baku clenched his fist, reminded cruelly of the curse they were stuck in. "Then I'll manage somewhere else," he gritted out.

A long pause. Then, "Can't you just stay here?" Baekjin said, voice small. "Until we swap bodies again?"

Baku's fist unclenched at the sudden offer. He took a deep breath, turning it over in his mind once again.

Baku stayed back at the Daesung office, lying on his back on the wooden pallet, staring at the ceiling while Baekjin occupied the chair beside him—back in the position he'd carved out for himself at his desk.

When the silence stretched long and suffocating, Baku eventually spoke. "What happened at school?"

"Nothing."

Baku had expected Baekjin to elaborate. Yeo-il was nothing special, and Baekjin was a voluntary outcast at his own school, but Baku was anything but ordinary, and his school was just as wild as he was. But the response never came. Baku turned his head to find Baekjin staring at the table, looking pensive. Guilt crawled up Baku's limbs, and he felt a desperate need to break the ice.

"Did my father do something?"

Baekjin scoffed softly, not lifting his gaze. "Yes. He beat me up because apparently I hid his soju." He delivered it with a smile.

Baku propped himself up on his elbow, staring in disbelief and concern. Baekjin finally glanced at him. "It was six fucking a.m."

"Sorry," Baku smiled sheepishly. "He is... yeah, he drinks from the morning sometimes. It's crazy." He shifted to sit up. "What about school?"

"Your school is a garbage heap," Baekjin said, his lips twisting at the memory. "All wild dogs. My boys are far better than them at maintaining discipline."

"Shut up," Baku said, affronted, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Baekjin rolled his eyes. 

"Did anyone suspect something was off? How did you manage to go unnoticed? What about Hyuntak?"

Baekjin shook his head. "They all thought I was just in a terrible mood and left me be. They asked me to practice and I refused, saying I wasn't feeling well. And then Hyuntak and I had a conversation."

"What? You two?" Baku barked out a disbelieving laugh. But then his expression suddenly dropped. "Wait... you two talked?" he asked, drawling cautiously. "What did he say?"

This time, Baekjin gave him an open look—eyes mirthful, lips threatening to curve. He leaned back, hands sliding into his pockets. "Something I'm not sure how much to believe."

"What?" Baku asked, tilting his head suspeciously. 

"He said that you were thinking about me. He said that whenever you're sitting like that, alone and silent, you're always thinking about me."

"What bullshit," Baku made a face. "Why would I think about you?"

"I know, right?" Baekjin nodded in agreement, but his eyes were soft with amusement. "Why would you think about me?"

Baku shifted under his gaze and blinked away. "What else did you guys talk about?"

"He said missing me was inevitable for you."

"That's an exaggeration," Baku refuted, as if it were a matter of fact.

Baekjin's lips curved a little more. "And that you should get together with me."

"What? He said that?" Baku's voice cracked, loud and sudden.

Baekjin pulled Baku's phone from his pocket and held it out to him. "You can ask him.”

Baku snatched the phone like it was something precious that had fallen into enemy hands.

They looked at each other as the dial tone rang between them. When the call connected, Baku spoke without thinking. "Hello."

There was a rustle on the other side, then a pause. "Baekjin?"

Baekjin rolled his eyes while Baku bit his tongue, realizing seconds too late. Baekjin snatched the phone back immediately, and Baku followed, moving closer to hover over him as Baekjin handled the call.

"Why would it be Baekjin? You're missing him more than me today," Baekjin teased. "What's that about?" He smiled, and Baku rolled his eyes at him, though there was no bite to it.

"Yah, bastard..." Baku could imagine Hyuntak's scowl.

Hyuntak took a pause. "Why, jealous?" he asked, teasing back.

"Why would I be jealous?"

"You don't care about Baekjin, then?"

Baekjin's eyes automatically flicked to Baku, who deliberately kept his gaze glued to the phone. Baekjin sighed. "Don't ask me stupid questions," he said, not knowing the answer.

"Yeah, exactly," Hyuntak agreed.

"Anyway," Hyuntak said, "what's up?"

Baku immediately leaned closer, and Baekjin offered his ear for Baku to whisper into.

"Um... about what we talked about at school..." Baekjin started slowly.

"Yeah?" Hyuntak prompted. "Have you decided to propose to him?"

Baekjin shrugged at Baku, showing off that he had been speaking the truth and not fantasy. Baku only frowned, then pulled his phone to type something. Baekjin waited, not so patiently, for him to finish. Baku turned the screen toward him, and Baekjin squinted to read it.

"What   do  you   think   I   should   do? Would  it   be   the    right   thing? Will   he   come   back    to   me?” 

Baekjin read the last words almost under his breath as they dawned on him. His eyes flicked to Baku, but the other avoided contact.

"If you are important to him, if he feels the same way, then he should," Hyuntak said matter-of-factly. "I mean, he would be crazy not to."

Baekjin gave the phone a side-eye, as if he could glare at Hyuntak directly.

Baku's fingers moved over the screen again, and then he turned the phone. "Should    I    tell    him    that   I….” Baekjin paused, then swallowed. "Love him?" His voice barely carried. He exhaled shakily.

"You... love him, Baku?" Hyuntak asked slowly, carefully, as if he were just as shocked at the admission as Baekjin.

Baekjin turned to Baku for an answer, and the other was already typing with a small smile on his face. He showed the screen to Baekjin again. Baekjin's breath shuddered. "Yes... Hyuntak... I think I love him," Baekjin whispered.

"Then go for it," Hyuntak said softly.

The words settled between the three of them for a moment. Baekjin was rattled by the indirect confession, and Baku was just as emotional at the permission he had just gotten from his friend. Hyuntak, on the other hand... Baku had no idea what his friend's true feelings were.

"When he becomes your boyfriend, I need him to give me a lifetime supply of painkillers and knee braces, and he needs to apologize to me by writing it down a hundred times," Hyuntak's voice cut suddenly through the spiraling thoughts. "No, not a hundred. A thousand times. And I won't forgive him even then. Just know that.”

Baku smiled, though his throat ached with everything he couldn't say directly to his best friend. Gratitude filled him to the brim, overflowing and messy, and he couldn't stop himself from getting emotional.

His fingers moved across the keyboard again, and Baekjin looked down when Baku slid the phone in front of him.

"Hyuntak, will you really be okay?" Baekjin asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"If I had a man breaking knees for me just because he was jealous, you don't know how fast I would have folded," Hyuntak replied. Baekjin smirked bitterly, suddenly feeling guilty for reasons he couldn't quite name.

"No, you wouldn't have," Baekjin read from the screen. "Not if the other person was your friend."

Static crackled between them. The pause stretched long and contemplative. Eventually, Hyuntak spoke again, his voice small. "Maybe. But bygones are bygones. You love him, that's all that matters. You deserve to be happy, Baku. I'll be fine."

Baekjin didn't know how much to believe him. And maybe Baku didn't know either, for he spoke up suddenly, feeling desperate. "Hyuntak..."

"Baekjin?" Hyuntak's voice pitched up questioningly.

"It's not! Why do you keep hearing his voice?" Baekjin said, shooting Baku a sharp glare. Baku bit his lip.

"Bro, I swear he's with you and you're fucking with me."

"I think you're sleepy," Baekjin said, grabbing the phone off the table. "Go to sleep."

"See you tomorrow."

"Sure," Baekjin said, dismissing him before hanging up. 

The call ended, and both of them stared at the darkened screen for reasons neither fully understood.

The silence stretched long enough that Baekjin started swaying in his chair, bored and restless. He had too many things to spiral into, and before he could latch onto thoughts of the union and Mr. Choi, he opened his mouth.

"So?"

Baku was pulled from his trance, his wide eyes snapping to Baekjin like a deer caught in headlights. A smile formed on Baekjin's lips. Seeing Baku's mannerisms in his own body—seeing his own body from the outside—was probably the most absurd thing that could ever happen to him.

He turned to look properly at his own face through Baku's eyes, trying to search for something worth admiring. Baku frowned at him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I'm trying to see how I look from someone else's perspective," Baekjin said. "Would someone fall for me now that I have no option but to leave the union?"

Baku's brows jumped in surprise. "You'll..."

Baekjin looked away, caught off guard by his own words. Rejecting Choi didn't have to mean the end of the union, so why had he said that? 

But the answer came just as easily—he'd been contemplating it the entire way to Daesung. Hyuntak's words echoed in his brain, and he couldn't help but think it through. And Baku dismissing the future prospects with Cheongang, which would have been the next path for the union, had felt like closing the gate to a destination he'd been walking toward.

Now the only other path led to Baku.

Cheongang didn't have to be the next destination for the union—they could pivot and stick to what they'd planned—but the alternatives were starting to look a little more appealing. And the way Baekjin had accepted Baku's decision so quickly only felt like he'd already started backtracking to the point where he had the choice to either choose the union or Baku.

"Baekjin-ah," Baku called softly. 

Baekjin refused to look. He couldn't talk about this now. It would be easier for Baku to pierce his way into Baekjin's brain if he decided to talk him out of the union. So he changed the topic back to why he'd spoken in the first place.

He plastered a smile on his lips and turned to Baku again. "What was that about?"

Baku looked puzzled for a second, but then it dawned on him and he immediately looked away, his ears turning red the more Baekjin stared. Baekjin's smile widened. But then he wondered—was that something his body did? The information didn't feel endearing anymore.

He rolled his eyes, feeling trapped.

"If you don't speak up, I'll just think it was all a lie."

Baku's head shot up in surprise. "No," he said loudly. Then he shrank into himself. "It's... not a... lie."

"What part is the truth? That you think about me? That you miss me?"

Baku's knee bounced with nervousness, his eyes darting across the floor as if an answer were written there.

"That I love you," he said quietly.

Baekjin suddenly turned away from him. "Love is a big word, Baku," he said, sounding unconvinced. "You can't just say it like that."

"Why? Am I not old enough to use it?" Baku's face contorted in confusion and disapproval. "Would it mean less than if I said the same thing five years later?"

"It's not because of your age. It's because of... everything that exists between us."

"What do you mean?"

"That you hate me, Baku." Baekjin turned to look at him, features contorted. "You hated me until yesterday, and now you're suddenly saying you love me. How believable is that?"

Baku shrugged. "Maybe I don't know what love means. Maybe I don't know what the threshold of feelings is to consider it love. But I think about you a lot."

Baekjin rolled his eyes and shook his head like that wasn't reason enough. “It's not that simple, idiot.” He muttered under his breath and stood up from his chair and casually moved past Baku. Baku looked at him offended but didn't hold it against him for not believing. Instead he decided to be honest about his thoughts. 

"I am not lying when I say you occupy my brain more than it's healthy for me.” Baku too stood straight, following behind Baekjin. “I think about you when I wake up, sometimes when I brush my teeth, sometimes when I walk down the slope of my house, and sometimes while I'm making my way to school. When I reach the school gate, sometimes I still imagine you waiting for me there, and sometimes I take extra food at the canteen thinking we still share the plate. Often, I think of you before going to bed, and often you appear in my dreams. What do I even do with so many thoughts? I have so many feelings for you that love alone can't define what I feel."

He paused, his face twisting with trouble in finding exact words to express himself. 

"Now that you say it... I don't even want to call it love. I don't know what it is that I feel for you. But it's unbearable to carry so much and express only a part of it.” 

Baku crossed him to stand in front of him. He takes his hands in his own as he peers into his eyes, like that small action alone could express his sincerity. "I want to express everything, Baekjin. I want to talk to you. I want to walk you home. I want to play with you, hug you, kiss you, and so much more. But I can do nothing. I am allowed nothing." Baku's face frowns with frustration and overwhelm. 

"Sometimes I feel trapped inside myself because I won't let myself have you. And I hate that feeling. I hate myself, Baekjin. But I don't care about it. Because I know only you can love me." He paused. "I feel like it."

"Don't you feel that?" Baku’s face was troubled as he asked him. Looking with so much hope and fear in his orbs. 

Baekjin looked between his eyes searching for sincerity which he knew would be unfair because there was little Baku ever did where he didn't pour out his entire heart. In fact, if Baekjin were to be honest, Baku might be the most sincere person he has ever come across. But still, when his heart was on the line, he couldn't help but let the doubt crawl up. 

But those too vanish, the longer he looks at Baku. The only thing left is the overwhelming emotions making his eyes sting and his nose burn. His heart feels like it's clenching in his chest at the confession he never knew would come like this. 

He’d wanted Baku for so long yet he hadn't known it had been in this way. Hell, he never imagined Baku would want him back in any way any form at all. But here they were. Trembling while holding onto each other while the weight of their feelings hanging between them. 

"I—I do feel a lot myself, Baku.” Baekjin manages to say between shallow breathes. “I just—I don't know what to do with all that I feel for you. I don't know how to navigate, how to express." He physically refuses for emphasis.

"See." Baku peers at him to seek his eyes. 

Baekjin nodded in agreement through wet lashes.

They stared at each other for a long moment—pupils shaking, lips trembling, not knowing what to do even as they felt the need to do something. Baku's eyes flickered to Baekjin's lips, and as if warring with his thoughts his pupils shake. And before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Baekjin's face between his palms and, without much thought, pressed his lips against Baekjin's.

The kiss was firm and closed-mouthed, but it pulled the ground out from under Baekjin's feet. His heart violently lurched inside his chest. Just as he realized what had happened, just as he was about to press back, Baku pulled away.

Heaving, he stared with wide-blown pupils. Baekjin too panted shallow breaths but too frozen and dazed to recover from the impact.

Slowly, his eyes flicked up, and Baku broke into a small, hesitant smile and like the effect a sun has on a plant, it's inevitable for Baekjin to not thrive in Baku’s light. He couldn't help but reciprocate the smile along with his contorting expression from the realisation of that impact. 

Baku grabbed his face again and stepped forward to bridge the gap, but something tugged at Baekjin's consciousness. He put up a barrier, his palm against Baku's chest, stopping him. Baku frowned deeply.

"Don't kiss me with that face," Baekjin stopped without hesitation. Almost alerted. "It feels weirdly like self-cest."

"What?" Baku exclaimed.

Baekjin rolled his eyes. "You kissing me while wearing my face doesn't feel right. It feels like I'm kissing myself."

"Is it really that bad?"

"Baku? What do you mean—you enjoy kissing yourself?"

Baku scratched his head. "Ugh, I didn't mean it that way," he said, starting to look a little irritated and restless. Baekjin smiled, recognizing the reason behind it.

He sat on the pallet and buried his face in his palm, groaning loudly. "When the fuck will this end?"

"What if it doesn't end?" Baekjin teased, and Baku's head snapped in his direction. Baekjin immediately schooled his expression into neutrality. "He did say one day."

"Fuck." Baku suddenly stood up. "I'm not going to wait," he said in a hurried whisper, heavy and firm. He reached for Baekjin, making his heart stutter at the sudden change.

Baku pulled him flush, his hands landing on Baekjin's waist. "Are you really...?"

"Did you fall for my face?"

Baekjin rolled his eyes. "Silly, it's not about that. How are we going to live our lives around the people we know?"

"We can just tell them the truth,” Baku says matter of factly, then a small smirk curves at the corner of his lips. “or, better yet," he leaned in closer to his ear, "run away with me," Baku whispered, biting his earlobe at the end.

When Baku pulled back, Baekjin peered at him from beneath his lashes, cheeks flushed red, a shy look on his face. "Fuck," Baku muttered. "It is indeed fucking weird to see myself act like that." He smirked, and Baekjin's expression sharpened.

Baku laughed, then immediately faltered, turning intentful as he leaned in closer to brush their noses together. "I do wish I could see this look on your beautiful face," he said, and pressed a peck on his round cheek.

Baekjin said nothing as he stared down in contemplative silence. Baku stared at him, his eyes gleaming with intent. 

"How about we kiss with our eyes closed? Would that make it better?" Baku says in a hushed voice. 

Baekjin stayed thoughtful for a moment, then glanced at him with fluttering lashes. "We could try.” he says equally quietly. 

Baekjin swallowed in anticipation as Baku's gaze once again dropped to his lips and slowly hus smile faltered. He closed his eyes; Baekjin followed suit, and they both leaned in naturally, meeting halfway. 

The kiss was tentative. Soft and gentle, nothing like they'd imagined. Baekjin's arms wrapped around Baku's shoulders, and he tilted his head, opening his mouth for Baku to dwell deeper. They kissed each other like they could pour every ounce of conviction into that want and quench the desire that had been sitting buried somewhere deep inside for months. Trying to take everything they had denied themselves just because the thought of being together after everything that went down felt near impossible. 

Soon the kiss turned heated. Baekjin sighed in contentment as Baku sucked on his lips, alternating between the upper and lower sweetly. His palm branding his waist, pulling him in possessively. Baekjin pressed closer and tangled his fingers in Baku's hair, pulling him in with a painful grip. The air between them became almost non-existent as they breathed into each other's mouths.

When their tongues brushed, Baku groaned, sending vibrations straight south and making Baekjin roll his hips forward on reflex. The heat made something primal snap in Baku, his insides jolting. He pulled back, dazed, only to freeze.

Baekjin panted, looking at the concrete floor for a moment to steady his breath and refocus his vision before looking up and he too stilled.

Smiles of astonishment washed over their features as they finally saw the faces they craved on each other instead of on themselves. Their faces back on the body where they truly belonged. 

As if reminded of something important, Baku pulled out his phone to check the time; the screen showed two minutes past midnight.

"Fucking finally," Baku heaved a sigh of relief, clutching his chest in an exaggeration.

Baekjin felt relief settling into him in parts, but his brain was lagging with everything that had happened today. Most of all, his body was buzzing, heat flowing through him in waves. The confession, the kiss, the excitement of being back in his own body and feelings everything click into place just like some dream, he felt disoriented.

"Did we suck our souls from each other's mouths?" Baku joked, laughing with more air than vibration. But Baekjin didn't laugh, still too dazed. He needed to anchor himself because right now it felt like it was swimming in an endless sea. So he pulled Baku by the collar and smashed their lips together again. The kiss was deep and slow right from the start.

It was so hot and intense that it made Baku whine. He rolled his hips, desperately seeking Baekjin. Baekjin focused on sucking on Baku's tongue. The action made Baku dizzy, his nails digging into the other's waist. 

Baekjin pulled back, their mouths parting with a soft sound. They both panted against each other, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.

"That was… hot," Baku whispered between them.

Baekjin only nodded.

Silence settled between them, buzzing with tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. Baku pulled back a little to glance at Baekjin. One arm snaked around his waist, and the other hand cradled his face. He looked deep into Baekjin's dark, beautiful eyes.

"I love you," he said with a small smile, sincerity dripping in his voice. Then his smile faltered. "Oh, wait… let's not say that." He said shaking his head. 

Baekjin smiled too. "You can say it," he whispered.

Baku's smile returned, widening in fact. "I love you. I love you a lot. More than myself. More than anything."

Baekjin's eyes sparkled with each confession. "I…I—” He tried to reciprocate but then his eyes darted away. Blinking rapidly and expressions turning troubled the more he tries to bring those words at the tip of his tongue which rolled off so easily from Baku’s. 

“It's okay.” Baku sliced through his racing thoughts. A gentle smile on his face. “You don't have to do it now.” 

He leaned in and pressed a peck on Baekjin's lips. “We have all the time in the world. We’ll get there.” He said brushing their nose together. 

Baekjin felt his heart melt like ice in summer. His lips turned down into an involuntary pout, his expressions crumbling. To hide the way he shatters at Baku's tenderness, Baekjin hides in the crook of his neck, lacing his fingers behind Baku’s back. 

Baku readily engulfs him in his arms. Pressing kisses on his forehead as he lets the events of the day settle between them.