Chapter Text
by the time they make it back to their apartment, sungjin is already waiting for them at the door.
he takes one look at the way jae’s clinging to brian, the way brian himself can’t seem to take his hands away from jae, just to make sure he’s there, make sure he’s safe. his eyes linger on wonpil, who’s staring blankly at the wall in front of him, hair ruffled and nails bitten. then he sighs, deep and low and entirely long-suffering.
“what did you idiots do this time?”
“not our fault,” jae grumbles back indignantly. it’s almost a reflex by this point, to snap something back when he hears sungjin’s chiding tone. it comes from three years of friendship and the feeling of knowing each other too well. sungjin raises an eyebrow in return, clearly disbelieving.
“for once,“ brian cuts in, grabbing wonpil by the crook of his elbow and pulling him towards the door, hoping to stop the argument before it starts, “i have to agree with him.”
jae smiles, then scowls, can’t seem to decide if he should be happy brian took his side for once or offended he doesn't do it more often. in the end, all he does is pat brian on the arm and tiredly mutter something that sounds like good boyfriend before he makes his way to the door and tries - and fails - to unlock it.
“let me,” sungjin sighs, taking the keys from jae’s shaking hands and pushing the door open, waiting for them all to pile into the hallway before he slams it shut. “i’m going to go make you all some tea, then you’re going to explain what happened tonight. in detail.”
and so they do. wonpil seems to come back into himself the more tea he drinks and jae’s hands stop shaking halfway through brian retelling the whole floating-knife situation. sungjin seems like he’s going to call bullshit at first but then jae says, “hey, didn’t you film the whole thing?” and brian remembers the camera still packed inside his bag.
they all crowd together to watch the footage. it’s shaky, and there’s static coming through the mic, making it hard to tell what they’re saying, but brian thinks the knife slashing through the air only a few inches away from his face and embedding itself on the door is pretty clear, considering. sungjin lest out a heavy breath when the screen turns to black, closes his eyes, squares his shoulders, and says, “figures it would be you two.”
“i take offense,” jae mumbles, but it’s half-hearted at best because really, there’s nothing much to say to that. ever since brian walked into his dorm room freshman year and found jae wobbling on a chair trying to hang a fall out boy poster to his bedside wall life’s never been the same. and sure, maybe that could sound like something of a hyperbole to someone who doesn’t know them well but brian’s found that after you’ve spent a night in a cell on a police station with your boyfriend after the cops caught you sneaking into an abandoned building to film a video for your 1.6 million subscribers ‘life-changing’ fits just about right.
still, considering the fact that sungjin was the one who had to bail them out that night brian thinks the elder’s reticence to get involved in one of their messes again is sort of understandable.
only sort of, though.
“look,” sungjin says, and sighs for what feels like the thousandth time that night, “it’s far too late to think properly right now, nevermind actually make sense of this - this -” he waves a hand at the camera, “ghost thing, or whatever is happening, so i’m going to take wonpil home with me and tomorrow we’re gonna meet at the café by the admin centre and discuss what to do like responsable adults.”
jae pulls a face at the word responsible, or maybe it’s adult that makes him twist his mouth in disgust, but ultimately he agrees. they bid sungjin and wonpil goodnight and then head to their room, going through the motions of getting ready for bed almost on autopilot.
it’s when they’re laying on their backs, facing their cracked ceiling and trying to find sleep that eludes them both when jae turns around to look at him and says, “i think we’re biting more than we can chew with this.”
“well,” brian sighs, “that makes two of us,” and pats around the bed until he finds jae’s hand under the sheets, locking their fingers together. “you think we should do it?”
jae falls silence, but it’s in the quiet that brian finds his answer - of course they’re doing this. wonpil is a good kid. they don't know him much, sure, but brian is a good judge of character when it counts. he can tell he’s not wrong when it comes to wonpil. and even if he was, he’s never been one to turn a blind eye when someone needs help. he knows jae isn’t the type either, and even though they don’t know how much help they’ll be or what exactly that help will entail, there’s really only one answer to brian’s question.
jae seems to reach the same conclusion because he tightens his hold on brian’s hand and says, “at least we’ll get a good episode out of it.”
and brian can’t help it, he laughs, buries the sound in jae’s skin when he turns to hide his face in the older’s shoulder and laughs harder still until he feels jae’s arm come around his waist and pull him closer.
they’re gonna be okay, he thinks as sleep begins to darken his vision. if they’re together, they’ll be okay.
murderous ghost and their floating knives can go suck it.
/
tomorrow afternoon finds the four of them huddled by a table in a café near central campus. jae’s got his eyes fixed on his phone, no doubt checking the response to the apology they tweeted, asking their followers to be a little patient. as it is, they won’t be able to post their next episode until a week after it’s due but they’re hoping the quality will balance out the wait. it’s not often they find an actual ghost when they go looking for trouble, after all.
“so,” sungjin starts, “let’s go over the basics.”
“there’s a ghosts in my house,” wonpil answer, which sums it pretty well, if you ask brian. wonpil seems better now that he’s got a good night’s sleep on him. he looks a bit wary, but ultimately determined. he’s gripping his mug of coffee a bit tighter than necessary but there’s an edge of steel to his gaze. he’s a though one, brian knows he’ll be okay.
“and we need to get rid of it,” jae adds, clicking his phone off and sending a brief nod brian’s way. “preferably without getting maimed too badly in the process.”
“got any ideas how to go about that?” sungjin asks, and it’s only when he raises an eyebrow that brian realises he’s waiting for him to answer.
“well,” brian starts, trying to dredge up any information he has on the matter. he’s usually the one who does the research when it comes to the cases he and jae choose for their channel and he’s admittedly the more knowledgeable of the two when it comes to the supernatural. jae’s in charge of the screaming. “often, when a ghost is haunting a specific place, it’s because it died there. him, i mean, or she. i don’t know the sex of the ghost.”
“the sex of the ghost,” jae breathes incredulously, then he slumps down on the table and whines, “what even is my life anymore.”
wonpil seems not to notice. “so you mean someone died in my dorm?” he asks. his voice is thin, his hands trembling slightly when he speaks, just enough for the ring sitting on his index finger to cling against his ceramic mug. “there’s no way the university’s administration would keep that quiet. they would have said something.”
“it could have happened a long time ago,” sungjin says. “we could be talking decades.”
“or centuries,” jae supplies. “who knows, maybe it’s jack the ripper haunting your dorm.”
“sure, because the ghost of a british serial killer would end up in seoul,” brian bites back at the same time that wonpil frowns and goes, “who?”
“i’m just saying,” jae shrugs, “we don’t know what we’re dealing here with. it could be anyone.”
“then that should be our first step.” sungjin sets his mug down. “we need to figure out who died here. and stop them, before they can hurt someone.”
silence follows. no one dares speak. that is until jae, who’s staring at sungjins wide-eyed, whispers a quiet “fuck, that was badass.” he grins. “babe,” he turns towards brian, who scowls at the look in jae’s face, “why aren’t you this cool?”
“shut up,” brian grouches, pushing at jae’s shoulder and trying to fight off a smile at the pout he gets in return. “you’re as lame as i am. now, let’s go to the public library. they should have prints of old newspapers we can search.”
“you could at least have made that sound a little more interesting.”
“shut up.” brian goes to flick jae on the forehead in retaliation but then wonpil laughs. the sound rings free and unburdened across the café; there’s a happy curve to his mouth that makes the stress lines around his eyes fade away, so brian grabs jae’s hand in his instead and lets it go.
they have a ghost to find.
/
finding a murder in seoul turns out to be pretty easy. finding the right murder is, however, a hell of a lot harder.
“just how many people have died in this city, god.” jae has his head on the table, arms spread out and knocking against the many files filled with old newspaper clippings the librarian gave them. next to him, wonpil flicks through another file, this one thicker, and frowns.
“a lot,” sungjin offers from where he’s jotting down something on a notebook. “now get back to looking. the library’s about to close.”
brian looks up from his own set of files to see the clock hanging from the wall opposite him is about to strike twelve. he sighs, cracks his fingers and his back. he’s been sitting in the same position for three hours and it shows in the stiffness of his joints. the librarian working at the front desk shoots him a dark look when brian glances her way and he winces. he doesn’t know what she makes of them, four college students furiously researching old murders and homicides, but he figures it can’t be anything good.
“we’re getting nowhere,” jae sighs, slamming his file shut much too loudly. the sound rings loud in the almost-empty library hall. from the entrance, the librarian shushes them viciously. “we need to narrow down our search.”
“yeah, but how?” wonpil asks. “we know nothing about the ghost.”
“are you sure?” jae asks back. when wonpil shoots him a dirty look, he adds, “i mean, you’ve been living with it for two years now, there’s gotta be something that stands out, right?”
“i don’t know,” wonpil grits out. it’s obvious by the bite in his tone that he’s getting frustrated. “i haven’t exactly tried to make polite conversation.”
jae winces, opens his mouth to say something else but sungjin chooses that moment to put his hand over wonpil’s own and sends him a placating glance. “i know it’s hard,” he starts, soft and careful. wonpil visibly forces himself to relax. “but jaehyung’s right. isn’t there something you’ve noticed, something odd, apart from the lights flickering and the cold spots?”
“no. i mean, maybe. but i don’t- i don’t know if-” wonpil falters, clearly hesitant. brian reaches out, tries for a smile.
“anything helps,” he says, “even if you think it’s dumb, we won’t know if it’s important unless you tell us.”
“there’s this - this sound,” wonpil breathes out, shoulders slumping down, like a weight has been lifted off of them. “i’ve heard it a few times only, mostly when i’m practicing on my keyboard. i thought it was my neighbor at first but she’s not always around when it happens. it’s like - like a rhythm.”
“a rhythm?” jae echoes, leaning forwards.
“yeah,” wonpil swallows. “when i play the piano, it sounds like someone is keeping time.”
/
they don’t get much work down after that. they part with promises of trying again later and each head their own way, wonpil to sungjin’s apartment, the four of them feeling defeated but not willing to show it.
staying true to his word, brian keeps on researching. he looks up old news on naver and asks around for the uni’s morbid myths and legend. he learns a lot, mostly where to buy weed and the faculty’s dirty secrets, if the rumors are to be believed, but nothing that could point out the potential cause for a haunting.
he’s close to giving up when he gets the call. he and jae are in the middle of their weekly ‘the office’ marathon when sungjin calls. pausing the show, brian answers only to be met with the sounds of screaming and the cracking of static.
“you need to get to wonpil’s apartment right now!” sungjin cries through the phone as brian bolts up from the couch and motions for jae to get ready to leave.
“what’s going on? are you alright?”
“i know who the ghost is.” there’s a crash somewhere on the other side of the line and what sounds like wonpil screaming in fright. then, frantic, sungjin’s voice comes again.
“his name is yoon dowoon,” he breathes, “and i think he’s angry.”
then, a scream. and the line goes dead.