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“I’m not good at this,” Yohan admits, whispering the words against Gaon’s temple, pressing them into his skin. The honesty feels foreign on his tongue, so often coated in lies and partial truths. He wants to take the words back as soon as he says them- they make him feel vulnerable, seen. A dangerous thing to feel, in his experience. But he swallows the anxiety that crawls up his throat, forcing it down and choking out the rest of his confession.
“I’m not good at caring for people.“ he pulls back for a moment, just enough to look Gaon in the eye. “I’ll hurt you.”
There's no maybe, no hypotheticals- it's a fact. Yohan can’t even clarify whether Gaon will be hurt accidentally or on purpose. Rage burns deep within him, simmering, and sometimes, boiling over. It has a permanent home deep within Yohan, threatening to burn him and those around him.
Gaon doesn’t say anything for a moment, continuing to stare at Yohan, not breaking eye contact. It’s as if he is trying to look deep into the windows of Yohan’s soul, trying to decipher the words he’s been given.
Yohan observes how the light of the moon illuminates the dark bedroom and makes Gaon’s pupils shine like silver- almost like they’re stars in the night sky. The comparison makes Yohan feel strangely hysterical. He almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. Who knew he could be so…romantic. It’s not something he wants to dwell on too much.
Finally, Gaon speaks, expression serious and voice soft. “I can hurt you too. I probably will”
And he’s right. How could Yohan forget?
He remembers Kim Gaon, from a few months ago, one who was still getting used to the winding hallways and many rooms of the mansion. He stands in front of him, telling him that he understands Yohan’s anger- that it’s the one thing he can understand. Yohan remembers the burning embers of a deep set rage in Gaon’s eyes. He remembers seeing them shine in determination, toeing the edge of desperation. He remembers the ache of his jaw after Gaon punched him, the purple that bloomed there a few weeks later.
Kim Gaon is fully capable of hurting Yohan, just as much as Yohan is capable of hurting him.
They really are more similar than he thought.
But Yohan also remembers home-cooked meals that fill him with a comfort he has never quite experienced before. He remembers seeing Gaon with Elijah, soft and playful, understanding even to her, in ways Yohan could never be. The way Gaon falls asleep on the couch whilst petting the street cat Yohan brought sits in Yohan’s mind- Gaon’s soft, relaxed expression etched into his memory, looking nothing at all like Kang Isaac although they share the same features. Gaon’s smile also lives there, and whenever Yohan thinks of it he can’t stop his lips from quirking up in a smile of its own.
They hold each other while also holding the capability of harming each other. To Yohan, having Gaon by his side, in his arms, is both a strength and a weakness. Realizing that is terrifying. This is a part of the game he has not planned for, but he thinks that if he can continue to have Gaon here, experience more of the love Gaon has to give, maybe he can see this game through.
His hands tighten on Gaon’s waist, twisting into the fabric of his wool cardigan and pulling Gaon closer to him. The space between them lessens and fills with their combined warmth. Both of them run hot. Both of them have fires burning inside of them.
Yohan shifts one hand upwards, tentatively cupping the side of Gaon’s face. He feels the way Gaon’s breath stutters through his nose, ghosting over Yohan’s thumb. It makes him shift his thumb over Gaon’s skin in a caress, with a gentleness that even Yohan didn’t know he was capable of.
He stares at the silver in Gaon’s eyes. They shine like stars now, but Yohan knows they can also gleam like polished knives, ready to strike. He finds a strange sort of comfort in that.
Yohan tilts his head, leans in, and slots his lips against Gaon’s in a slow, drawn-out kiss. Gaon reciprocates easily like he has been kissing Yohan for ages before this. Yohan pushes in further, cradling Gaon’s neck for support. He tastes the inside of Gaon’s mouth, memorizes the sweetness of it, and swallows the low hums and gasps Gaon lets out.
And Gaon does the same to him.
Yohan lets himself drown in the deep ocean that is Kim Gaon, pulling the other man down with him.
The hand that’s still on Gaon’s waist moves to wrap around Gaon completely, pulling him even closer so that they’re flush against each other. Gaon’s arms shift as well, coming to wrap around Yohan’s neck pulling Yohan down, further and further into Gaon until the languid kiss shifts into something more fierce, more desperate, more breathless-
A sharp gasp from the door wrenches Gaon away from Yohan, who snaps his head up to see Elijah outside of the room, eyes wide and jaw hanging. They blink at her, eyes wide, and she blinks back.
“Elijah-“ Gaon starts, but Elijah doesn’t stay to listen to whatever explanation he has. She backs away from the door and she wheels herself away at top speed, long gone before either of them can get a word out.
The silence that follows her departure is thick and awkward. Gaon breaks it when he sighs heavily and drops his head on Yohan’s shoulder.
“Well,” he mumbles into the fabric of Yohan’s robe. “That was embarrassing.”
Yohan huffs a laugh, unable to stop it upon hearing the devastation in Gaon’s tone.
“It’s okay,” Yohan says, half-joking. “She’s old enough to not be disturbed by these things.”
“She looked plenty disturbed to me.”
Yohan can’t help but wince at that, unable to refute it.
Gaon sighs again and pushes away from Yohan, who instantly mourns the loss.
“I’ll go talk to her.” He says, making his way to the door.
Yohan stops him with a hand on his arm, pulling him back into Yohan’s space. He wraps his arms around Gaon’s waist once again and holds him securely in place, not letting him leave.
“What are you doing?” Gaon asks, brow furrowed and tone bordering on incredulous.
When Yohan doesn’t answer, Gaon tries again. “Hey, let me go talk to- oh”
He’s stopped mid-sentence by Yohan’s mouth on neck, hot and relentless.
Yohan sucks a mark into Gaon’s skin, all tongue and teeth. He watches the way Gaon’s skin turns pink and then red, blood coming up to the surface and painting the pale canvas beautifully. He moves up Gaon’s neck until he’s level with his ear, all while listening to the stuttered sounds of his breathing. Gaon’s eyes are squeezed shut from the sudden assault on his sensitive skin.
“Give her space for now,” Yohan whispers into Gaon’s ear. He turns his face so that he can trace the shell of Gaon’s ear with his lips and press a chaste kiss to the skin directly below it. He feels Gaon shiver in his arms and he holds back a smirk. “She’s better at dealing with sudden shocks by herself. It’s a family trait.”
And it’s true- it’s the one thing Yohan knows about Elijah, learned from years of being thrown out of the teen’s room whether he tried to comfort or explain things to her.
On second thought, it might have just been because it was Yohan trying to do the comforting. Elijah might be more receptive to Gaon. But Yohan wants to be selfish for just a little while.
He pulls Gaon closer so that they’re flush against each other once again. Yohan feels Gaon’s nod against his skin.
“Okay,” Gaon breathes, and his hands slide up Yohan’s body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His palms rest on the sides of Yohan’s neck. It feels like they’re burning a brand into his skin, marking him in a way that feels more prominent, more binding than the bruises Yohan kissed into Gaon’s neck.
Gaon turns Yohan’s face toward him, close enough that their noses are brushing and their breaths are mingling. Yohan sees stars in Gaon’s eyes and, when Gaon pulls Yohan towards him even further, tastes honey on his tongue.
Yohan sighs into the kiss and, once again, revels in his drowning.