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“Come on, babe. Get out of the car!”
Seungcheol can’t really hear Wonwoo, not with his voice muffled by the glass of the passenger seat. It’s hard to look away from Wonwoo, with his hair being tossed around by the sea breeze and his smile as brilliant as ever even in the pitch-black night. Seungcheol is a little bit pissed. He makes a show of crossing his arms and upturning his nose, closing his eyes and pouting his lips. There’s absolute silence for a moment, and Seungcheol begins to wonder if his bratty petulance has finally worked in his favor, that maybe Wonwoo would get his ass back in the car and they—
SQUUEEEEEAK. SQUUUUUUEEEAK. SQUEEEAAAK—
Seungcheol nearly chokes himself with his seatbelt as he instinctually flings himself forward, trying to get away from the horrible sound echoing directly into his ear. His head whips to the side to look at what the hell is going on, only to find Wonwoo repeatedly blowing hot air onto the cold, misty window, tracing out his message: G E T O U T .
He whines loudly, tossing his head back in one final act of dramatism, before unbuckling his seat and popping open the car door, allowing Wonwoo to step back before leaving the car.
“Finally, you big baby.” Wonwoo grins, that stupid half-toothy-smile-half-tight-lipped-grin that he does that basically makes Seungcheol want to get down on both knees and bury himself in a hole.
“Seriously, what the hell do you want us to do in a dark, damp, gross ass cave?”
Wonwoo has moved out of Seungcheol’s field of vision, trekking to the backseat of his car to get out his weirdly overstuffed backpack.
“You said that we could do whatever we wanted on our next date.” Wonwoo says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and slamming the car door shut, “You made us go to that lame theme park last time.”
“Lame?” Seungcheol guffaws, “It’s a cute date spot! We bought matching plushies!”
“Yeah, that’s cute and all, but I told you: I don’t want you to strain your wallet taking me out on dates.”
“Okay, but, why are we at a cave? The beach is back down that way.”
“We can go back and take a romantic walk on the beach when we’re done here if that’s what you really want to do.”
Seungcheol frowns and kicks a rock in Wonwoo’s direction, to which the other simply bounces it off of the sole of his shoes and winks as he passes by.
To be honest, that’s something that Seungcheol would absolutely love to do. Maybe on a night where the sky is a lot clearer and less foggy, when the seabreeze smells fresh and less like stormwaters. It’s quite a pretty thing to imagine, Wonwoo’s thick black hair tossed away from his forehead relentlessly as the sea continues to roll just beyond him, the cold nighttime giving him goosebumps until he feels no choice but to nuzzle up to Seungcheol’s waiting arms just dying for any bit of affection from his stingy boyfriend. It would be cute to draw their names together in the sand, stargaze as Wonwoo drones on and on about the constellations Seungcheol will never care to learn, but will pick a favorite because Wonwoo will definitely make him do so, maybe even make out a little as they huddled closer and closer together for warmth…
Wonwoo calls to him, already standing at the entrance of the cave, a flashlight in hand that hardly illuminates the cave before him, “What are you standing there for? Let’s go!”
Seungcheol blinks thrice before remembering that his dream romantic moonlit walk scenario will probably never come true— not when Wonwoo is a bastard who only indulges in the romantic when they are in the seclusion of either of their apartments.
“Wait, you never answered my question!”
He’s quick to catch up, and luckily for him, Wonwoo has kept his other hand empty. Seungcheol slides his palm against the younger’s, entwining his thick fingers with the thinner ones that he’s come to adore so deeply.
“You’ll see. It’s gonna turn out to be lame, anyway.”
Wonwoo’s grip on Seungcheol’s hand tightens, and even though it’s perhaps the most simplistic of romantic gestures, it still makes Seungcheol’s heart soar, just like before they’d started dating. He still remembers how he felt as a mere member of Wonwoo’s study group just trying to pass a stupidly complicated Marketing course, how nervous he felt pulling out a seat next to him, asking if he’d done the homework or if he could borrow a pencil. He doesn’t even know when he started falling for Wonwoo, or why he found the other so attractive, wearing the same ripped jeans and hoodie combo every single damn day. The guy lived off of iced coffee and only seemed to exist in the library or in class, but Seungcheol couldn’t help but die a little inside when they’d bump elbows or Wonwoo looked up at him when he couldn’t answer a question.
It had caught him completely off guard when Wonwoo casually asked him if he was single, not even caring to ask if he was into men. It was simple for Wonwoo, when everything was confusing and difficult for Seungcheol all of the time . He was a good counteractive balance for Seungcheol, even back when they didn’t know each other. Wonwoo tended to be a little bit impulsive, like how he had just kissed Seungcheol out of nowhere on their first “date” (Seungcheol swears it doesn’t count), but he always made things fun like that. Wonwoo has always been unexpected like that. He’s like some sort of cursed magic hat— Seungcheol never knows what he’s going to get out of Wonwoo.
Although unexpected, this whole surprise that Wonwoo has been planning, however, isn’t very fun. There are bugs crawling around on the cavern floor, the air feels wet, and the shrouding darkness isn’t doing any favors for Seungcheol’s already sensitive nerves. Everytime one of them breathes too loudly, it echoes around the walls of the cave, and Seungcheol nearly jolts three feet in the air every single time. Wonwoo, of course, keeps him grounded with a snort or a chuckle, but Seungcheol absolutely hates this. He hates it. He hates it.
It’s only been a few minutes, and they probably aren’t more than a quick sprint away from the entrance of the cave, but he wants out of this gross cave.
“C’mon, Wonwoo,” he whines, “I want to get out of here.”
“We haven’t even reached the end yet! You don’t even wanna see what I’ve got in my bag?”
Wonwoo does a little hop in place, rustling around the belongings inside of the backpack. There’s something heavy, definitely, but whatever is in there must have a lot of small pieces, or he’s got more than just one thing in there. The mystery of what Wonwoo has planned is enough to have Seungcheol intrigued, but he still detests the silence that they’re walking in. Wonwoo does him the favor of droning on about caves, and how this one was apparently used for mining, but he couldn’t really figure out what exactly they were mining for. He hypothesizes that it was probably for precious jewels or something that some rich company wouldn’t want getting out there, even if it seemed that the mine has been out of commision for at least a decade or two.
His lecture is stopped short when the flashlight shines against a wall, concrete, obviously blocking off the rest of the path.
“Aw, what?” Wonwoo frowns, letting go of Seungcheol’s hand in order to walk toward it. He reaches out and knocks on it, the sound dense, as if knocking on a completely solid boulder.
“Oh, look at that. It’s blocked off! Guess we can’t go any further—”
“Nah, it’s fine. I would’ve been too lazy to get back uphill if we got any further than this, anyway.”
Wonwoo shoulders off his backpack, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the ground, the various items within it jostling around a bit. He lowers himself onto the ground, so obviously damp that Seungcheol cringes at the thought of it, and Wonwoo hands his flashlight to Seungcheol.
“Hold this,” he prompts.
He then unzips his bag, beginning to pull out an assortment of items. A portable laptop desk, an assortment of small tea candles, and a mysterious clunky black box.
“What’s in the box?”
“A Luigi board.”
“A what?”
“A quiche board? The thing that ghost hunters use to talk to ghosts.”
“A quiche… A Ouija board?”
Wonwoo snaps his fingers, “Bingo!”
“Hell no, Wonwoo! Put that thing back!”
“Oh come on, babe. Ghosts aren’t real! It’s just to get in the Halloween spirit.”
“If you wanted to get in the Halloween spirit, we could’ve gone to a stupid costume store and picked up some costumes! Maybe we could’ve even went to a haunted house!” Seungcheol bargains, waving his flashlight around wildly as he speaks.
“Babe—Stop—Please.”
“No! Ouija boards can get you into some seriously freaky shit! I’m not risking it!”
“I meant the flashlight.”
“Oh.”
Seungcheol stiffens, pointing his flashlight back down onto his boyfriend. Unexpectedly, he’s looking up at the elder with big, glossy eyes, and a hopelessly dramatic frown.
“Please,” Wonwoo speaks, jutting out his lower lip, “I’ll be the medium, but you have to do it with me. This is what I wanted to do for our date this time. You promised.”
Perhaps liking someone this much is more precarious than he would have expected. Seungcheol is almost entirely melted from the inside out, his hand over his heart and a sigh on his lips.
“What the hell am I going to do if you get possessed?”
“I’m not gonna get possessed.” Wonwoo looks back down at his box, slowly unpackaging it and setting it out on his portable laptop desk, “The paranormal doesn’t exist, only—”
“Only aliens and parallel universes do. I know. We’ve had this talk.”
“Glad you remembered,” Wonwoo hums, “I know that I started dating you for a reason.”
“As if you didn’t know before now?”
“That’s up to your discretion.”
“Asshole,” Seungcheol mumbles, and pipes up to give his decree. “We’re leaving after the first try.”
“Aye-Aye.”
It doesn’t take very long for Wonwoo to finish setting it up, and by the time he’s got his lighter out, slowly lighting each candle, Seungcheol begins to notice the absolute lack of a draft despite the torrentuous wind blowing outside of the cave. In fact, the air is so still that the flames seem to stand entirely upright without so much as a single flicker. Chills run up in icy spikes along Seungcheol’s spine, and he warns,
“Wonwoo, I don’t like this. Look at the candles.”
“Oooh. Spooky. Must be the pendeja board.”
“Okay, now you’re just fucking with the name on purpose.”
“Is there a point not to? Anyway, you’ve gotta sit down with me. It’s a two person thing.”
Seungcheol resigns himself into sitting, but only on his knees, not wanting to wet more of his body than he has already. He props the flashlight up with a rock, illuminating the underside of the board and half of their bodies, the small light of the candles their only true saving grace.
“Okay. I only watched a Youtube tutorial on this beforehand, but I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.”
Wonwoo scoots the Ouija board slowly onto both of their laps, and once it’s been settled, he places his pointer finger onto the planchette of the board. He makes a motion with his eyes to Seungcheol to follow suit, so he does, placing his own finger on the other end of it. The younger takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes, before opening his eyes and smirking down at the board.
“Okay, ghosts, if you’re not all wimps, come on and say hello.”
Nothing happens. The planchette doesn’t move, and the two sit in silence for a bit.
“Hey, I’m talking to you, cowards!”
The planchette slowly moves towards the HELLO marking on the bottom left corner, and Seungcheol can feel his heart starting to palpitate.
“Ha, cool.” Wonwoo chuckles.
“Yeah, neat. So, are we done—?”
“So, coward! You gonna possess me, or are you a little baby? A little waa-waa whiny baby? Can you speak? Or are you gonna write goo-goo-gaa-gaa on the board?”
“Wonwoo! What the hell are you—”
“Waa!!! Waa !!! I’m a little spirit baby!!!”
The planchette moves once more, and Seungcheol’s eyes are glued to it, letter by letter.
F U C K Y O U
“Wonwoo, goodbye! Slide your finger on the goodbye thing!”
“Nah, this ghost has got guts! Let’s see—”
9 8 7
“Wonwoo, Wonwoo, it’s counting down, we have to close the portal—”
“Portal? Hey, you know more terminology than I do.”
6 5 4
“Baby, I’m begging you, we have to close it now!”
3 2 1
The flashlight flickers off, the bulb of the metal flashlight blinking twice before shorting out. Seungcheol immediately whispers out a quick curse, and with his free hand he reaches over to retrieve the flashlight. However, midway, through his movement, all of the candles flicker in sync, and the wooden planchette begins to burn beneath his fingertip. He repeals from the pain, looking down at his finger, his own flesh peeled back around his burning red fingertip.
Before he can react to all of his senses telling him that this is wrong , and that he has to do something , Wonwoo’s fingernail begins to paint black from the edge of his nail to the base of it. Suddenly, the flame of the candles flicker a bright, nearly fluorescent purple, swirling wildly and quickly the same way that fireworks begin to shoot through the sky. The flames prick upward, growing twice their size for only a second, before Wonwoo’s neck shoots sharply backward, flinging the rounded spectacles off of his face.
Seungcheol screams, bloodcurdling and throaty, unintentionally flipping the board onto Wonwoo as he stumbles backward. The board falls completely onto Wonwoo’s torso and purple flame envelopes only the board, but does not scathe Wonwoo for a moment. Wonwoo’s neck continues to jerk, jutting further backward, to the left to the right, almost as if his neck had become as flexible as rubber. The black of his fingernails continues to ascend upward through all of his fingers, tinging his skin black until his fingers end, in which that inky color fades to grey, and as it continues up his face, the moles on his face beneath his eyes, beside his nose, become a blinding white, almost as if the stars themselves had begun to burn on the surface of his skin. He remains silent as his neck slowly stretches upward into a normal position, his face gradually erecting itself, his eyes calmly shut as that gray continues to fill upward to his wildly flapping hair. His perfectly clear forehead begins to dent inward into his cranium before two great, long and straight horns jut out of his skin, facing forward as if a bull’s horns had been turned toward Seungcheol. They grow slowly upward, fading from that same grey skin, back to an inky black as they reach their final point.
Wonwoo’s eyes snap open, no irises in sight, only purple. Blinding purple. A horrible ultraviolet ray that pierces right through Seungcheol’s spirit, the man only able to scream again as a flame begins to dance at the edge of the horns.
“Your fear,” Wonwoo speaks, in an all too familiar tenor, “is delicious .”
Wordlessly, Seungcheol continues backward, his hands wet and a bit muddy as he tries his best to get himself away from— whoever that is.
“Stop!” He cries, “Don’t come any closer!”
“Why not?” The unknown Entity asks, tilting his head so far to the side that it looks as if Wonwoo’s neck is entirely broken, “I can feel that there is a bond between this body and you. What is it? Companionship?”
The unknown Entity steps closer and Seungcheol’s entire body quivers, but as much as he tries to push onto his hands, he cannot stand.
“Perhaps closer than that? A pact, of some sort?”
Another step.
“A lascivious relationship between men?”
Another.
“Lovers?”
He stops in front of Seungcheol and bends his waist downward, outstretching his warped hand until a single finger taps upon his chin, a sharpened fingernail threatening to puncture the flesh.
“ Lust ?”
Seungcheol swallows roughly, a bass drum pounding so heavily in his chest that he fears it’ll tear a hole right through his body and he’ll die in this rotting, disgusting cave.
“Where is Wonwoo?” Seungcheol croaks, frenzied, “What did you do with Wonwoo?”
“Oh, now don’t you worry.” The Entity replies, Wonwoo’s ink-stained lips drawing upward into a smile. He reveals his teeth, with two long, sharpened fangs glinting mischievously in the violet light that has overtaken the long-burning Ouija board, “The Wonwoo of which you speak is rather calm within me. Taking a peaceful little rest. But,”
The Entity stretches Wonwoo’s arms out behind him with a flourish of his wrist, a moan leaving his lips as he relishes in the feeling of gaining a physical presence,
“I don’t intend to allow him to awake, of course.”
Seungcheol’s face warps into that of dejection, his eyebrows knitting together and creasing his forehead until something fearless begins to burn in his eyes. Yet, as the Entity gazes down at him once more, it disappears in a flash.
“Oh, do you take issue with this?” He pouts, moving to stand directly over Seungcheol’s body. The Entity crushes his knee down quickly, leaving Seungcheol with no choice but to spread his legs in an attempt to save his thighs from certain shattering. The Entity licks his lips, slotting itself perfectly into the space the human had provided, leaning forward until Seungcheol has his back pressed against the damp cave floor.
“What can that human do that I can’t?”
A single, ink-black finger begins to trace slow circles in Seungcheol’s chest over his heart.
“I think you’d find that I might perform even better.”
Frozen in fear, Seungcheol’s mind goes blank as the Entity leans in closer, opening his mouth and seductively taking in the tip of Seungcheol’s earlobe into his mouth. The Entity’s tongue is hot against his flesh, trailing downward to kiss the human’s neck as his hand presses steady against a firm chest. Seungcheol feels heat rise in his stomach, a familiar pit that makes him feel heavy and fluttery all at once, the alluring pull that attraction brings and the subsequent denial that his heart screams for.
“I want to know what it is that humans feel.”
Somehow finding strength, of great repulsion within him, he pushes at the Entity’s shoulders and shouts, “I don’t want it if it isn’t Wonwoo!”
The Entity pulls backward, tilting his head in that same angle as he had before, but the way he widens his eyes and blinks in that cute catlike manner is so similar to the way that Wonwoo does has Seungcheol frozen in his place again.
Wonwoo has this thing that he does, and it’s absolutely unintentional, whenever he finds something perplexing. He ever so subtly scrunches up his nose in thought, his upper lip crunching inward a little bit, his eyebrows parting slightly before retreating to their natural place. All of those movements are so slow, just like everything else Wonwoo does, but it’s in that super-slow processing speed that Wonwoo displays his almost childlike curiosity, his everlasting thirst for knowledge that makes him so interesting.
The Entity, too, has that same little scrunch.
“What is it, that humans find so important about things as fleeting as emotion?”
Funnily enough, Wonwoo has also asked something similar.
It was on their fifth date, long after they’d started kissing, making out, inviting each other back into their apartments to frisk about and make another memory. It was just another one of those nights where they’d ended up in bed together, some sort of landmark event in adulthood that had become all too familiar. Despite this, the new feelings between the two of them still had some sort of electricity— the exact kind that Seungcheol craved. He was feeling great, of course, but Wonwoo had folded himself up in Seungcheol’s thin sheets, purposely leaning away from the heat of Seungcheol’s bare chest. The elder of the two, of course, was worried that maybe this was a sign that Wonwoo wanted distance, that he wanted to be done with this, that he was going to leave Seungcheol alone in his bed with only his scent and some hickies to remember him for as long as such meaningless markings would last.
“What makes you feel so securely about wanting to be with me, when everything we as humans feel is all so fleeting?”
Not wanting to invade his space, Seungcheol only turned his head, not offering his hand to Wonwoo quite yet.
“What do you mean?”
“Sexuality. Feelings. Love. The kind of thing that intrinsically makes up all of our feelings, and disperses them just as quickly.”
Seungcheol’s response now, to the Entity looming above him, is just the same as he had given when he had decided to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s thin body and held him tight to his chest.
“We don’t think about it. We just feel it. We just feel it when we want to sleep with someone, or if we want to kiss them and proclaim our love for them.”
Seungcheol takes a deep breath and licks his own lips, mustering up his courage to continue,
“And I think I might really be in love with Wonwoo, so, mister demon, I’d really like my boyfriend back.”
The Entity pulls away, his spine bending backward as if being tugged by a string, until he is sitting upright on his knees once again.
“I sense no malicious intent behind your words. I feel no need to devour your spirit. You have attempted to enlighten me, so perhaps I might spare you from the rapture I plan to bring.”
Wow, Seungcheol thinks, he really is just like Wonwoo.
“But… Will you give him back to me?”
“Unfortunately for you, I cannot simply discard a vassal. I require a blood sacrifice to pass on my existence, and I refuse to return from whence I came.”
The Entity smiles again, sharp-toothed and threateningly pleasant, “But I will accept a blood sacrifice from the noble human who dared to love even a forsaken vassal.”
“Wouldn’t that mean…”
“Your death? I suppose it would, but wouldn’t saving your lover be so romantic ?”
What does a demon know about romance, anyway?
Seungcheol stares down at his own hands, no longer trembling with intense fear, but with clarity that is nearly as alarming as his fear had been.
He would never see Wonwoo again. He would never see his friends. He would never see his professors, or the barista he sees at his favorite café every day. He would never get another call from his nagging mother, or a weird photo in the form of an email from his father, because he cannot and will not learn how to use a cellphone.
His eyes examine not only his hands, but the world around him as he ponders his last moments, the dampness of the floor, the rocks around him, the concrete-blocked pathway, the flashlight…
“Will you,” Seungcheol swallows, “explain how a blood sacrifice works?”
“Of course,” the Entity replies, folding his legs backward and ascending until he is standing upright on his feet. Seungcheol, too, sits up slowly. Seeing the other still on the ground, the Entity scoops up the flame of the Ouija board and splatters it onto the pathway, drawing shapes with the violet flames with his glowing eyes.
“I shall gift to you this parting knowledge of the significance of such a ritual. The blood ritual has been an act of bonding between humanity and my kind for hundreds of thousands of years, far before your puny neanderthalic brains had even thought to hold a stick of gravel as a pen—”
As the Entity begins to lecture, scholarly and astute, painting pictures of flame into the wall, Seungcheol locks his gaze on the other’s as he inches, ever so slowly, in the direction of the flashlight. His fingertip touches against it ever so slightly, and as soon as the cool touch of metal registers in his skin, he becomes all too aware of the surplus of adrenaline surging through his body. He holds his breath, and without making a single sound, he inches his feet until they are beneath him. Once he has achieved a state where he knows he’ll have some momentum, he curls his fingers around the flashlight in a firm grasp.
All at once, he springs upward, winds his arm backward, and delivers a skull-crushing blow to the back of the Entity’s head. The front of his face flings forward against the concrete wall and Seungcheol swings again just for good measure. The flames igniting the Ouija board flicker in the natural color of a flame, the flashlight bulb flickers, and Seungcheol makes a quick grab for Wonwoo’s body. He crumbles to the floor, his face hidden by a tuft of hair, but as Seungcheol wraps the other’s arms around his neck, he realizes that his hands aren’t ink-black anymore.
He turns around and runs faster than ever before, quicker than when he had ever ran back when he was on his high school’s baseball time, quicker than when he had ever run back when he thought exercise was fun, right out of the cave. The uphill slope means nothing to him, and as he continues to run further from that Ouija board, the flashlight stops flickering.
When he makes it to the car, it’s a steady light, and Seungcheol flings Wonwoo into the passenger seat without daring to look at his boyfriend’s face. He wages his outcomes as he stumbles into the driver’s seat of Wonwoo’s stupid fancy smartcar, presses the button to start it up, and hauls ass away from the cave.
He’s too afraid to look in Wonwoo’s direction, too afraid to see if there will be a pair of horns that seek their bloody vengeance, or worse, to find his boyfriend’s bloody face in front of him, half-dead and broken from the crush of the concrete against his face and the heavy metal that had been hammered against his skull— twice .
He subconsciously starts driving in the direction of the nearest hospital, praying to whoever is out there that maybe, somehow, everything will be just peachy and—
A loud gasp greets his ear, and Seungcheol swerves to the far right, slamming on the breaks and nearly killing the both of them with whiplash.
“Fuck! What the hell, babe?”
Seungcheol’s shoulders hunch, and without daring to breathe a single breath, he looks over to the passenger seat to find a thankfully normal Wonwoo. He flings forward, his hands rubbing all over Wonwoo’s face, checking to see if there’s horns sprouting at his forehead, pulling at his lips to see if there’s a pair of pointy fangs there—
“Cheol— Seungcheol— Stop it!” Wonwoo slaps his hands away, a snarl on his unblemished, not bloody, absolutely perfect face, “What are you doing?”
“I thought you were a goner!” Seungcheol nearly shouts, his chest heaving with the force of his anxiety and adrenaline.
Wonwoo blinks slowly, twice, his nose doing that little scrunch thing before his face falls completely neutral again, “Huh?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Last thing I remember is entering that cave. Did I slip or something?”
Seungcheol, for the hundredth time tonight, feels his whole mind and his spirit wipe completely blank.
“Uh… Yeah. You fell so hard I thought you died.”
“Huh. Really. Well, I had a really weird dream when I was knocked out.”
Allowing himself to relax, Seungcheol sighs and sits back in his seat, closing his eyes for a second and rubbing his own face, “Oh?”
“It sounded like you were talking to somebody, but I couldn’t really hear the whole conversation. Couldn’t see, either.”
His anxiety spiking once more, Seungcheol looks back over at Wonwoo, trying his best not to blink too quickly or seem too suspicious, “What was I talking about?”
Wonwoo lips curl inward into his mouth, and Seungcheol swears on it, that in the dim moonlight, he can see Wonwoo’s cheeks tint pink just a little bit.
“Nothing of note.”
Seungcheol remembers that for the first time, he almost, kind of, sort of , told Wonwoo that he loved him.
“Oh… Well, okay.”
He turns back to face the road again, and after a silent moment to recollect himself, he takes the car out of brake and starts to drive on the road again.
The awkwardness is palpable. There’s something unspoken between the two of them, something that neither of them had seemed fully ready to say. Seungcheol, of course, has been holding out on saying those words. Not until Wonwoo seems fully comfortable with being in a committed relationship, not until he seems like he understands his own feelings and knows what ‘I love you’ really means.
He kind of wants to bring it up. He also doesn’t want to.
Thankfully, Wonwoo breaks the silence for them with,
“...Gonna turn on the radio.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Maybe someday Seungcheol will be able to tell a non-possessed Wonwoo that he loves him with his whole heart and soul, even if he’s an absolute jerk that almost got them both killed with his stupid Ouijia board and his bad attitude toward the paranormal. Maybe someday Wonwoo will want to go on normal dates that don’t involve trying to disprove the existence of ghosts. Then again, Wonwoo has never really been entirely normal .
Despite Wonwoo’s inherent departure from normalcy, under the influence of demonic possession or too much iced coffee, Seungcheol loves him anyway.