Work Text:
For years, Yoon has closely followed the rules of God; confessed every sinful thought he had to God. Firmly believed that God will guide him, and has always guided him in the right direction. While he may feel like he is going astray, God knows where he needs to go, trust. God is all he has known, ever since that night twenty years ago. He put his all into the belief of God, that he will find his way, his brother. Find something to live for.
Then Hwapyung, an easy-going taxi driver, with knowledge of the spiritual world most would never know of, steps into his life. He speaks of a time when he was younger, possessed by a demon more powerful than anything we know. To Yoon, it was all nonsense, some childhood story that got spun too far. As a priest, he was taught that most possessions were used to cover up abuse.
Then one night, he’s getting a call from the priest he was working under. He watches as a short frantic guy talks of possession and the paralyzed guy laying on the bed in the corner is dangerous. He’s pushing for an exorcism, disregarding rules, the very same ones that Yoon follows so closely. The short guy’s friend, a larger man with a kind face, seems apologetic but stands firmly with his friend. Yoon is hesitant to do anything until the paralyzed guy starts to move in ways that are far past his capabilities and speaks low, dangerous. Far different from the groans and mumbled speech he heard earlier. It’s not until then that Yoon is suddenly very aware that this short guy, who he comes to find out is named Hwapyung, has a type of power and determination he has not seen in years.
Yoon is suddenly thrown into a whirlwind chase of possession, murder, death, and loss, everything he thought he was prepared to handle in some capacity. He becomes entangled with Hwapyung and a detective, Gilyoung. Gilyoung was skeptical of them, of Hwapyung, believing that everything was because there are just bad people and that maybe Hwapyung was the one behind the influx of cases. Yoon remembers the day he found out how they were all connected when he found out the truth about Hwapyung. He remembers going to Gilyoung, explaining that Hwapyung wasn’t some guy that got mixed up in this, but someone who has gone through more pain than maybe both combined, and who is still willing to bear the pain just to save another life, their lives.
He learns of demons, a particular one, Park Il-do that is more powerful than what he has faced. He learns all too quickly what this demon is capable of, what it has done already. Because of Park Il-Do, he lost his family, Gilyoung lost her mother, and Hwapyung, well, he lost almost everything. Their lives, so intertwined in a way they may never fully know, and now may never know.
Their fight against Park Il-Do was not an easy one. Every night, Yoon was overcome by pain so fierce it was akin to being engulfed by flames. A pain he willingly took on to help Hwapyung; everything he did was suddenly because of Hwapyung. He knew the consequences of continuing the exorcisms, but out of all the sacrifices Hwapyung has made for them, for him, this was one Yoon could make for him.
And they won, or so they thought, foolishly. They all believed that Park Il-Do died with Father Yang and now, they could go back to normalcy, or, somewhat back to normalcy.
They were so close, until that day Yoon walked up the path to Hwapyung’s grandpa’s house and saw Hwapyung standing above his grandpa. Hwapyung, with words haphazardly carved into his body, his right eye pitch-black.
Yoon could have touched him, did touch him, but it wasn’t enough.
And yet they still lost him, Yoon still lost Hwapyung, to the sea, to Park Il-Do, to Hwapyung himself.
The city was beautiful, with the ocean to his left and the mountains to his right. The mountains hovered over the city, protective. Flowers were planted across the town, the port was bustling with market stalls, ships coming and going. A fitting place for Hwapyung, Yoon thinks. It’s quiet, hidden away on the coast with roads not used by many. More breathable than the busy roads of Sangyong. Here, the feeling of someone, something always watching you is long forgotten. Yoon can imagine himself in a place like this, if he could ever move on from Hwapyung. Hwapyung, who was always on his mind, from the flashing images of his bright smile to the sound of his honey voice that always seemed to creep into his dreams.
Yoon and Gilyoung slowly make their way up the slightly curvy road, enjoying the cool breeze and the beautiful scenery of the town below. Gilyoung mentions offhandedly that she’s been here once before, a long time ago with her mother. There’s a sad smile on her face and Yoon can’t find the words in him to offer any sort of comfort, so he offers the best smile he can before carrying on.
It’s funny, Yoon thinks. His whole existence is made around the idea of bringing comfort to others via the word of God. He teaches others that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but it’s hard bringing comfort to others when his own light was taken from him.
Yoon glances down at the small piece of paper in his hand as they approach a small house adorned with potter flowers and plants. The house was reminiscent of Hwapyung’s grandpa’s house, but more modern in style. Flowers and pots covered the small wooden porch, vines ran up the sides of the walls onto the roof. On the porch, a small section of the wall was lined with different fishing poles and nets. While the porch seemed cluttered, the small table near the entrance to the house was clear, only a lone glass of water sat upon it.
Gilyoung and Yoon look at each other, unsure whether they should continue forward.
“Is this the right place?” Gilyoung asks. Yoon gives one more glance to the house before looking back to the now wrinkled paper in his hand. There was no doubt this was the right place, but still something in him kept him from moving forward. Yoon could feel the hum of an unfamiliar feeling under his skin, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. It sent his stomach into a swirl of nervousness, one that differs from the usual. Underlying was the fear of disappointment, so close to finding something he thought he lost.
And they knew exactly what they were hoping for, who they were hoping for when discovered someone from this address was sending supplies to Hwapyung’s grandpa. They were asking for a lot, but if there was a chance that Hwapyung was still out there, well, they needed to know. Yoon had spent nights, down on his knees, hands clasped so tightly around his rosary, a gift he was given after he lost his, and prayed to God to bring Hwapyung back. If he could grant this one wish, Yoon would never doubt God’s ability again.
“Yoo-,” Gilyoung begins, but cuts herself off when she hears rustling coming from the house. Both look towards the entrance, waiting. There’s silence, then someone rounds the corner of the entrance, humming and setting out a potted plant. Yoon hears Gilyoung gasp and stutter. The figure turns around, stopping in their tracks. Yoon feels himself stumble back when he recognizes the person.
“Yook Gwang?” Gilyoung calls out, voicing cracking at the end. He pauses, eyes darting between them.
Suddenly, Yook Gwang is breaking out into a wide smile, laughing as he rushes toward the two, engulfing them in a big hug. He feels Gilyoung move into Yook Gwang’s hug, but he stands there frozen. It takes him a minute before he lets himself fall into the hug, wrapping his arm around his shoulders, laying over Gilyoung’s arm.
Yook Gwang sets down a cup of coffee in front of Yoon and Gilyoung, smiling at them both. He settles himself across the table, folding his legs beneath him easily. There’s an air of comfort around him, he watches them patiently, waiting for the barrage of questions that are surely about to come his way. It’s been a long time coming, but for now, he rests easy seeing the two in front of him again.
“I-I don’t understand,” Gilyoung speaks up first. She tries to keep herself composed, anger bubbling inside of her, that Yoon is sure Yook Gwang can see. Yook Gwang sighs and takes a sip of the coffee and leans back.
“I know, I know. Let me start from the beginning” Yook Gwang looks behind the two, past the sliding door, to the ocean. “I went out to Hwapyung’s grandpa’s house, looking for anything to connect to who Park Il-Do was possessing. I ran into Father Yang, he threatened me, told me to stay away from Hwapyung. I don’t remember much after that, Hwapyung must have found me somehow and took me back to his grandpa’s.”
Yoon’s head spins, trying to connect everything together, filling in the missing pieces of the story.
“Found you?” Yoon questions.
“He saw something that night, something about me and he came searching. Said he found me on the side of the road, blood rushing down my face. He thought I was dead.” Yook Gwang gives a small shrug. “But I’m not that easy to kill.” Yook Gwang wags his index finger back and forth, a sly smile on his face.
“Hold on- What about the body that washed up?” Gilyoung looked toward Yoon, “We both saw you!”
“I know what it looked like, but that wasn’t me. I-I can’t explain that; Hwapyung thought it’d be safer for me if Park Il-Do thought I was dead.” Yook Gwang huffs a laugh, its void of any actual emotion. His expressive face is unusually blank as he recalls. “Didn’t work out so well, now, did it?”
“Everything is hazy, from those days. I wish I could tell you exactly what happened, But Hwapyung, always has a plan, ya’ know?” Yook Gwang smiles bitterly.
Yoon vividly remembers that day, seeing Hwapyung fight for control of his body, sometimes he can still feel the fingers on his neck from the multitude of times Hwapyung had them around his neck.
“You’re the one sending his grandpa the supplies?" Yoon questions. He feels his heart clench as the question. The small amount of hope that lingered in him was no more as reality settled in. Yook Gwang is just taking care of Hwapyung’s grandpa, of course, Hwapyung wasn’t still alive. What he went through was not survivable.
There’s a small breeze as someone walks into the room, stomping their boots off.
“Yook Gwang!” The voice hollers, “I’m back!”
Yoon looks over to the entrance, the man finished shoving off his shoes and looks up at them. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the man before him. Hwapyung stands there, shaggy hair that partly covers his blind eye, his skin much tanner than it was when he last saw him. From under Hwapyung’s sleeve, he can see the faint scars from the curse he carved into himself. There’s a new energy that surrounds him, one Yoon felt brief when he first met Hwapyung, back when he thought he was some annoying kid.
“I didn’t know we had guests,” Hwapyung steps closer to the table and sends them one of those classic Hwapyung smiles. It’s breathtaking and heartbreaking. “I’m Hwapyung.” He extends a hand toward Yoon. Gilyoung gasped, Yoon looks over to see her shaking her head, tears falling down her cheeks. Yoon looks back toward Hwapyung and takes Hwapyung’s hand.
“Choi Yoon.” He greets. Hwapyung’s hand is warm and rough, just the same as it was a year ago. Hwapyung smiles again before extending his hand toward Gilyoung. Gilyoung wipes her tears quickly and clears her throat.
“Gilyoung.” She mutters. Her smile is weak, eyes shiny with unshed tears.
“I didn’t know you were friends with a priest.” Hwapyung laughs and gives Yook Gwang a pat on the back as he walks by, disappearing into the hallway behind him.
“He doesn’t-,” Gilyoung closes her eyes and takes a breath.
“He doesn’t remember much of anything.” Yook Gwang answers for her. “I’m-,” Yook Gwang swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“What does he remember?” Yoon speaks up.
“Bits and pieces. He remembers Park Il-Do taking over. He remembers a few different bits of the cases he helped you guys on, but only the parts when I was with him. He remembers that something happened to his family, but he doesn’t remember the specifics.” Yook Gwang pauses, “I had to tell him his father died.” Yook Gwang looks away, wiping his eyes. When he turns around, he’s smiling. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but Yoon pretends he doesn’t notice.
“I haven’t told him the full story and he hasn’t asked, yet.” Yook Gwang offers.
The room falls silent as Yoon and Gilyoung fully unravel all that has been told to them. Part of Yoon feels relief, relief that Hwapyung is somehow actually alive, that he gets to bless everyone around him with his bright smiles. No longer does he have to hide in the shadows, worry whether Park Il-Do is still around. Then there’s the anger, the betrayal. Yoon never thought in a million years that if they found Hwapyung he wouldn’t remember them. Yoon almost feels ill with the realization that all they been through, every fight, every time Hwapyung decided to go off on his own, every touch, means absolutely nothing to Hwapyung.
“How did you find him?” Gilyoung asks after a few minutes of silence. Yoon looks over at Gilyoung; she’s turned around in her seat, staring out behind her, towards the ocean. He can tell, just as he is, that she’s playing that night in the ocean, over and over. She wipes at her nose and cheeks.
“Some fisherman found him, still had his wallet on him, took Hwapyung to the hospital where they called me.” Yook Gwang doesn’t go into many details, letting the weight of it all hang there.
“Why didn’t you call us? Shouldn’t we have known he was alive!?” Gilyoung slams her hands on the table, and she pushes away. Yoon watches her leave, scrubbing at her face like she’s trying to erase all she just heard.
Yook Gwang doesn’t answer the question, Yoon knows he doesn’t need to. Yoon finds himself fiddling with the plastic piece of his collar, as Yook Gwang stares out the sliding door behind him.
The air is filled with unanswered questions. Yook Gwang is silent besides the occasional sniff, but if Yoon listens hard enough, he’s sure he hears Hwapyung in the other room snoring slightly. The wind blows and the sun continues to shine, casting such a beautiful glow within the house. Maybe they are going about this all wrong, should be celebrating the fact Hwapyung is here, breathing and happy, not sulking because they are no longer a part of his life.
But Yoon has always been too good at asking for too much.
Yoon sits quietly on the steps of the church, watching as families walk by, kids laughing as they swing between their parents. Groups of friends gossip and laugh with each other. Yoon watches, enjoying the slight breeze, a sign of fall approaching. He pulls out the rosary from his pocket, holding it gently in his hand. He rolls the tiny beads between his fingers and feels the sharp edges of the cross that hangs from the end.
“Well, isn’t it the handsome priest.”
Yoon looks up, surprised to see Hwapyung standing in front of him. He looks the same as he did when he saw him briefly a few weeks ago. His hair has grown longer, covering even more of his right eye, but the left one is just as bright and shiny as ever. It sends Yoon’s heart soaring.
“What are you doing here?” Yoon asks, surprised.
“Yook Gwang said you’d be here. C’mon, you can buy me lunch.” Hwapyung shrugs before he starts walking away. Yoon watches Hwapyung walk away, mouth agape. Hwapyung turns arounds after a few steps, the cool breeze picks up, blowing Hwapyung’s hair. He chuckles at Yoon and calls for him again.
“C’mon Father, I don’t have all day.” Yoon swallows, Hwapyung’s deep voice saying father echoes in his mind, buries it away so he can never forget.
Hwapyung manages to take them to a little hidden-away café that Yoon has never heard of. It quiet, an old lady sits in the corner reading some book way too big for her to hold upright. Another older lady sits behinds the counter and calls happily to them. Hwapyung calls for two coffees and heads back down a hallway that leads to a patio with tables sat under huge umbrellas. The balcony looks across part of the town best known for its scenery. Trees cover most of the area with a few buildings poking up between. In the distance, he can hazily see the outlines of mountains.
Hwapyung sits at the table in the corner of the balcony and gestured toward the seat across from him. He smiles easily at Yoon as he watches him sit. There’s something about the way Hwapyung smiles, relaxed. He watches Yoon like he has all the time in the world and wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here. It makes Yoon’s stomach swirl, and he feels himself blush.
Hwapyung sends him another blinding smile before looking out towards the trees. He lifts his legs so his ankles rest on the balcony’s edge and leans back in his chair.
“I thought you wanted food?” Yoon mutters. Hwapyung looks back at him, his one eye glowing with amusement.
“Coffee, food, whatever gets you to come with me.” Hwapyung laughs, it's light, but cheerful laugh. If it wasn’t Yook Gwang confirming that this is their Hwapyung, he wouldn’t be sure it was Hwapyung at all. Hwapyung looks over at him again, opens his mouth as to speak, but stops when the old lady from inside drops off their coffee. Hwapyung thanks her before handing her some cash.
“Thought I was paying?” Yoon raises and eyebrow at Hwapyung, a small smile forming on his lips.
“He said, she said.” And he smiles again, sending Yoon’s heart into overdrive. He swiftly takes a drink of the coffee, attempting to hide the blush.
Yoon is surprised at how easy the conversation flows between them. Yoon was never much of a talker, but the way Hwapyung gives him his full attention, hums, and comments at appropriate times, has Yoon talking much more than he ever did. Occasionally, he finds himself slipping up, mentioning something that the old Hwapyung would understand. Yoon is quick to apologize and change the subject when it happens. Hwapyung agrees easily, but something lingers in his eyes, like he understands, but doesn’t understand why. He wants to ask, sees in the way his gaze lingers, how the energy around them shifts slightly.
There’s a lull in the conversation, one that comes naturally. The silence is comfortable, there’s no need to fill the air unless they honestly had something to say. And right now, while Hwapyung has his eyes closed, resting in the sun like a cat, Yoon lets himself admire Hwapyung. There’s a clear difference between the Hwapyung sitting in front of him and the one from a year ago. He wonders absentmindedly if this is the real Hwapyung, one who is worry-free, always has a smile on his face, and speaks freely of anything and nothing at all. Someone who sits outside just to be outside, no, the Hwapyung last year would be thinking of his next move, constantly watching for something. This Hwapyung sits here casually, moves as easy as the wind.
“Hwapyung,” Yoon calls out. Hwapyung answers with a hum, eyes still shut but titles his head towards Yoon.
“Why did you come find me?”
Hwapyung drops his feet from the ledge, he moves so he’s facing towards Yoon, his good eye staring at him. Hwapyung is no longer smiling, and it sends Yoon into a frantic, thinking of anything he could say to bring it back.
“I don’t know.” Hwapyung answers honestly. “You remind me of someone.” And he leaves it at that, leaning back into his chair, smiling as if nothing happened. Something bounces around in Yoon’s chest, the beginning bubbles of hope.
‘You remind me of someone.’ Ringing in his head.
Yoon looks up as they reach his apartment. Usually, once the sun has started to set, Yoon is ready to shed the day from his back and do nothing, but with Hwapyung here by his side, he finds himself not wanting to end the day. Their outing lasted hours longer than both probably predicted it would.
Yoon clears his throat, suddenly overcome with nervous energy. He feels silly, like someone getting dropped off after a first date. He fidgets with the white collar in his shirt and welcomes the small breeze that hits his neck as he pulls it off.
“Letting your hair down, Father?” Hwapyung teased, quirking his eyebrows slightly. Yoon laughs, fully lets himself enjoy the moment, enjoy Hwapyung’s teasing. The Hwapyung before would crack jokes, and have quick wits, but with the weight of everything going on, Yoon would barely manage a chuckle, but now, now he has no reason now to not just let go.
And maybe, lately, Yoon has been questioning himself, his reasons for being a priest. He did it to find his brother, didn’t he? And he found him, twenty years too late, but he did. Suddenly, everything about himself that he crafted so meticulously for the church, for his brother, seemed irrelevant. So, he laughs, laughs at the ridiculousness of it all, of his wasted time as a priest. He was never really good at it anyway, breaking half the rules on any given day.
And it’s Yoon’s best decision yet, seeing Hwapyung beam at him, completely ecstatic he was able to make Yoon laugh, a real laugh.
“I need to get back, but you know where I live. Don’t be a stranger.” Hwapyung brushes his hand across Yoon’s lower back as he walks by. It sends a jolt of electricity up his back, the spot where his hand caressed lingers, burns through his clothes imprinting on his skin.
Hwapyung had already rounded the corner before Yoon could even think of calling out a goodbye. He walks up to his apartment in a daze, only the touch of Hwapyung on his mind. No, it wasn’t the first time they have touched each other, but it is the first time with this new Hwapyung.
This is not a rediscovery, Yoon thinks, but a first-time meeting. Yoon isn’t finding someone he lost, he’s finding someone new, someone, who is new to life. Yoon digs through his pocket until he pulls out the small, white, plastic collar, crisp as ever. It could be easy, to throw away this life he made for himself, and start new, fresh. He could start fresh with Hwapyung, buy a quant house on the coast, open his own shop, or, whatever. He doesn’t need to continue this journey, he has the answers, some he wasn’t ready to accept, but that doesn’t change them.
Oh, it could be so easy, he could walk into the parish right now, give up this life of God, for something akin to true salvation.
Yoon tosses the collar piece onto his desk, opens the shades on the large window, and watches as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon.
“You went on a date with Hwapyung?” Gilyoung exclaims, spilling some of her drink, as she looks at Yoon across the table. Yoon stills, setting down his drink. He looks back up to Gilyoung, who is eyeing him, giving him the same look, she would give Hwapyung when he said something ridiculous.
“Not a date,” He mumbles, “He just kind of-” Yoon waves his hand in a vague gesture, “He just appeared in front of me, outside of the church. We went to get coffee together…” Yoon trails off.
“Sounds like a date, and how did he know where you worked? There are hundreds of churches in this town, wasn’t a lucky guess.”
“Yook Gwang told him.” Yoon shrugs, his hand grabs ahold of his clerical collar, feeling it between his fingers, stiff. He quickly pulls it out and shoves it into his pocket. Gilyoung eyes him, eyebrow raised slightly at the action.
“Well,” She leans back slightly, taking a sip of her beer. She stares at him for a few minutes, enough to make Yoon feel uncomfortable.
“You seem happy, with Hwapyung back.” She finally speaks. Yoon looks at her over the edge of his drink. There was something in the way she spoke, a scent of jealously.
“You know where he lives, go meet up with him,” Yoon suggested.
“And what? Tell him, ‘Hey, I know you think you don’t know me, but you actually do. We fought a demon together!’?” Gilyoung sighs as Yoon glared.
“That’s not what I meant, Gilyoung.”
“And what did you mean?”
Yoon huffed, leaning back in his seat. He swirls the last of his drink before downing it. Yoon gets up, tossing the now empty bottle onto the table.
“If you want him back in your life, go to him, or don’t. But” Yoon eyes Gilyoung, “Don’t be angry with me because he came to me. I accepted Hwapyung doesn’t remember, but I’m not going to let him slip away again because of that.”
“Thanks for dinner,” Yoon grumbles, walking away.
Yoon isn’t all too surprised to see Hwapyung standing at his door, a case of beer in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. Nor is he surprised when Hwapyung pushes past him, boots falling off as he makes his way into the living room. And he’s definitely not surprised to see Hwapyung, hair pushed back, fully stretched out on the couch, already cracking a can open, shoving it towards Yoon.
“You drink, right?” Hwapyung questions, not really paying mind to Yoon.
Hwapyung suddenly looks up, hand outstretched with the beer faltering a bit.
“Oh, right, priest?” He starts to lower his hand, Yoon grabs the can, fingers brushing against Hwapyung’s. It sends a jolt through him, just like the first time Hwapyung touched him.
“Oh, you do?” Hwapyung smirks, “That’s good, hate to drink all this by myself.”
It doesn’t take long for both of them to start feeling the effects, both downing two each, now nursing a third one. Somewhere along the way, Yoon had lost his collar, shirt unbuttoned way more than usual, but the breeze from the window Hwapyung opened earlier felt nice on the exposed skin. Hwapyung was leaning heavily on Yoon, rambling about his day at the dock, how his coworkers are all assholes, but his boss is pretty good.
“Apparently, my boss,” Hwapyung slurs slightly, “Was the one who found me in the water.”
Yoon hums, the effect of the alcohol taking a toll on his ability to adequately form a coherent thought.
“Nice guy.”
Hwapyung falls silent, still leaning against Yoon. It’s oddly comfortable, to sit here in silent drunkenness, not expected to talk or do much of anything but enjoy each other’s presence. The breeze comes and the curtains flow. The empty cans roll carelessly around by their feet. Yoon looks out into the night sky, void of stars, but bright with city lights.
“Your eyes…” Yoon mumbles, Hwapyung hums, questioning. “That night in the ocean, your eyes, they haunt me.”
Hwapyung shuffles beside him and gently places a hand on his thigh. Yoon turns to look at him, Hwapyung hand burning a spot on his thigh.
“How do you know about that night?” Hwapyung whispers, worried if he talks too loudly, he’ll break whatever bubble they have surrounding them.
“I meant,” Yoon stutters, “I meant tonight, your eyes, eye.” Yoon trails off, knowing whatever he says is a lost cause.
“What about my eye?” Hwapyung nudges, shifting the energy around them. He plays it off easily that he doesn’t know what Yoon is talking about, that the alcohol is talking. Hwapyung thumb begins to lightly rub back and forth, sending shockwaves of worth and desire through him.
“They’re… pretty.” Yoon mumbles, he clenches and unclenches his hands. But he thanks God quickly for letting them bypass Yoon’s slip of words.
“Are they now?” Hwapyung moves closers, Yoon can feel the puffs of air hit his cheek, smell the alcohol on his breath and the cologne he wears.
“Hey, Yoon.” He breathes. Yoon takes a deep breath and slowly turns his head. As he turns to look, he can feel Hwapyung brush his lips against the side of his cheek, it's quick but warm. Hwapyung stares at him, a small smile on his face, his good eye shining bright.
“Made ya’ look.” Hwapyung whispers, voice low. His eyes dart down to Yoon's lips, his tongue comes out and swipes his bottom lip. Hwapyung looks back up and laughs. Suddenly Hwapyung is rolling off the couch, landing on the cool floor below. The room falls quiet. Yoon has his feet resting on Hwapyung side. Hwapyung has a protective arm resting across his feet.
It’s nice, Yoon thinks. To be alone with someone, no obligation to do anything but exist.
“Hey,” Hwapyung pinches the top of Yoon’s foot, “Do you like being a priest?” His words are still slurred a bit, but Yoon can hear it’s a serious question. Yoon doesn’t know how to answer. Does he like it? He’s not sure anymore.
“I don’t know.” Yoon leans his head on the back of his rundown couch. No, he can’t say he does like being a priest anymore.
Priests aren’t supposed to think about kissing their male friends, shouldn’t think about kissing in general. He took a vow of celibacy and dedicated his life to being free of sin. But Hwapyung doesn’t need to know the details.
“Do you enjoy being a fisherman?” Yoon bounces back.
“I do, I like being out on the water. But...” Hwapyung fades off. Yoon nudges him with his foot, encouraging him to continue.
“Sometimes, I just get this, overwhelming sense of sadness, and I feel like I’m drowning.”
Yoon sits up quickly, mindful that he’s still resting on Hwapyung. Hwapyung doesn’t move, just continues to rest comfortably on the ground, eyes shut. Yoon stares, voice stuck in his throat.
Hwapyung opens his eyes, staring at Yoon, “Yoon? Are you okay?”
Yoon leans back into the couch, resting his head again.
“Yea, just remembered something.”
“You know what this means, Father Matthew.” The Counselman ask. Yoon looks down, he has a tight grip where his hands lay on his thighs. He can feel his heartbeat slowly rising and his hands beginning to sweat.
“Yes, Father.” He answers. There’s a murmur across the councilmen, but he knows what the answer is. They haven’t been actively looking for a way to outcast him, but ever since he went against their orders, they no longer favored him but were nice enough to him because of the loss of Father Yang.
“The parish has accepted your request to leave the parish.” Yoon stands, bows, and quickly leaves the overly large meeting room. He throws the plastic collar on some table on his way out of the church, quickly undoing the top buttons of his shirt.
Yoon stands at the base of the church steps, watching people walk by, smiling and laughing. He remembers fondly, the day Hwapyung showed up in front of him, a few months ago. How beautiful he looked that day, how beautiful he looked every day after that. Almost all his free time was spent with Hwapyung, doing whatever Hwapyung wanted, because that’s all Yoon wanted, was to make Hwapyung happy. He more officially introduced Hwapyung to Gilyoung, after Gilyoung reluctantly apologized for being jealous. Every second not with Hwapyung, Yoon was thinking about him.
It was unfair to stay with the parish. How could he continue his life as a priest, when suddenly, God wasn’t relevant anymore to him? He doesn’t need to believe in God to be happy, he just needs to believe in Hwapyung. And he did, so much that it hurt at times. But, no, it wasn’t fair to be a priest and to fall in love with another man. He knows what he is, Yoon won’t say it out loud, but he knows. The parish, which has only slightly updated its views in recent years wasn’t ready for someone like Yoon. And he was surprisingly okay with it.
“Father, fancy meeting you here.”
Yoon looks up to a smiling Hwapyung, hands stuffed in his pocket.
“Not a priest, anymore.” He offers, stepping closer to Hwapyung.
“Is that so?” Hwapyung smirks, eyeing the small sliver of chest Yoon has exposed. But when he looks back up at Yoon, his eyes are filled with worry. Yoon coughs and looks away.
“What a shame, I was enjoying calling you Father.” Hwapyung shrugs.
“A shame.” Yoon chuckles. “What brings you out here, Hwapyung?”
“Had some sins to confess, looks like I am out of luck. Fancy a trip to the beach?”
“You came all the way to the city to ask me to go to the beach?” Yoon asks, puzzled. Hwapyung fidgets and takes a hand out of his pocket and waves it carelessly.
“Yea, guess I did.” Hwapyung looks down at his, a light blush forming on his cheeks.
The sand is soft on his feet, shifting with each step. Hwapyung grabs his arm after Yoon almost slips. Hwapyung catches him easily, steads him, and waits for him to recover. Even after he has sorted himself Hwapyung doesn’t let go, hand sliding down Yoon’s arm until their hands come together, fingers sliding between each other. Yoon looks back towards the ocean, avoiding Hwapyung’s gaze so he doesn’t see the blush on his cheeks. Feeling Hwapyung’s hand in his shoots a warm feeling throughout his body.
If Heaven is real, it must be with Hwapyung.
They walk until the water begins to tickle at their feet as the waves come in. It’s a welcome feeling, saving them from the warm heat of the sand. Hwapyung bends down to roll up his pant legs, once he is done, he turns and bends back down to roll up Yoon’s. It feels oddly intimate, Yoon thinks. But what does he know? Hwapyung is the first person to ever show him this kind of, love, thoughtfulness. Even last year, in the throes of possession, Hwapyung looked out for him. When Park Il-Do fought to take control, Hwapyung fought harder, all for Yoon. And even now, even doing the smallest gestures meant everything to him. Yoon doesn’t know love, never had the chance to experience it, but he thinks this must be something pretty close.
Yoon feels Hwapyung slip his hand back into his, he squeezes in response. The sun was still high in the sky and was now only beginning to turn into dusk. They stood there, watching the waves crash around their feet, watching the sun sparkle across the water.
Hwapyung turns to Yoon, still holding his hand.
“Are you going to tell me why you stopped being a priest?” Yoon knew this question was coming sooner or later, he just hoped for later. He sighs, and glances at their entwined hands before looking back up at Hwapyung, his brown eye turning into a shade of gold from the sun.
“I felt as if I could no longer keep my promise with God.” It’s honest, it’s vague and he knows Hwapyung wants more.
“You know, priests aren’t allowed to fall in love.” Yoon offers. He turns to look back at the horizon, avoiding Hwapyung’s intense gaze.
“And you fell in love?”
“I fell a long time ago.”
Yoon stares at the phone in his hand, waiting, hoping it rings, that Hwapyung will be on the other side telling him another wild story from working on the dock. But it doesn’t come, his phone hasn’t rung in a few weeks. All because Yoon couldn’t keep his mouth shut. But Hwapyung asked him, with his eye bright, shining like brilliant gold, if he was in love. Yoon is not one to deny Hwapyung much of anything, but this time he should have. He could have kept his mouth shut, and said nothing about being in love.
Hwapyung’s sad eyes have burned into the back of Yoon’s eyelids, sees them every time he lays down to sleep. The way Hwapyung’s hand slipped out of Yoon’s after his confession, the quiet ‘oh’ that left his lips. It was all too much.
Yoon flips open his phone and scrolls until he finds Hwapyung’s number, one easy press and he could call, apologize for what happened, explain. The thought of hearing Hwapyung’s voice, sad, angry, at him. He couldn’t take that risk.
He tosses the phone to the side and leans back into the couch. His eyes fall shut, memories of the night Hwapyung showed up, cans of beer in his hand, and his signature smile cross his mind. He can almost feel the ghost of Hwapyung’s breath on his cheek, feel the weight of his gaze on him, the way Hwapyung glanced down at his lips, before tumbling to the ground. It would have been so easy to just close the distance between them, finally feel Hwapyung’s lips against his. Have Hwapyung’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, hands sliding in his hair. Yoon’s hands, unsure, would play with the hem of Hwapyung’s shirt, just barely touching the skin there.
The loud ringing of Yoon’s phone brings him out of his daydream. Yoon digs into the side of the couch, fumbling for the phone before getting a grasp on it. He flips it open, not paying attention to who the caller was.
“Hello?” He breathes heavily, coming down from the small excitement of his daydream.
“Yoon.” Hwapyung answers, his voice is quiet and muffled through the phone.
“Hwapyung?” Yoon sits up quickly, he glances at the clock on the far wall.
2am.
“Did I wake you?” Yoon lets out an airy laugh.
“No, I was awake.” There’s a pause, just the sound of the two breathing and the crickets.
“I was thinking about you,” Hwapyung says after a few minutes. The phone crackles and settles.
“I’m sorry.” Yoon blurts. “What I said, on the beach.”
“Don’t.” Hwapyung pauses. “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry, for how I reacted, for not reaching out these past few weeks.”
“I miss you.” Hwapyung mumbles after a few minutes of silence.
“I- me too.”
Yoon leans back into the couch and focuses on the rhythmic sound of Hwapyung breathing. Hwapyung doesn’t say any more, just occasionally grunts as he shuffles around.
“Are you busy, tomorrow evening?” Hwapyung suddenly asks. Yoon takes note of the slight nervousness that seems to linger behind his words, voice shaking ever so slightly.
“No.”
“Good, meet me at my house.”
Yoon hums his agreement.
Yoon’s not sure when he fell asleep, but he wakes up to a kink in his neck and the sun already high in the sky. He grabs his phone, noticing a text from Hwapyung.
See you soon, Yoon.
Hwapyung smiles as he opens the door, walking back towards the room, letting Yoon follow. Hwapyung settles easily on the ground, facing the open sliding doors that look out over the city and towards the ocean, watching the sun slowly lower towards the horizon. Yoon copies, sitting down in the open-door frame, stretching out his legs. Hwapyung slides over, picking up Yoon’s legs and setting them in his lap. Hwapyung’s hands come to rest on his ankle, rubbing small circles. They watch the view together, enjoying the peace that each of them brings each other.
“I know” Hwapyung suddenly speaks up. He doesn’t look at Yoon but continues to scan the horizon.
“You know?” There’s a sick feeling in Yoon’s stomach, his mind races through everything Hwapyung could be talking about.
“I don’t know everything. But Yook Gwang told me the, a few days ago, told me what he could about me, us.” Hwapyung sighs and looks down at where his hand meets Yoon’s ankle. “He told me that we all knew each other before, that I met you two last year when I was looking for Park Il-do.”
Yoon swallows and waits for Hwapyung to continue.
“He told me what you guys did for me, what happened to my grandpa, that this past year you’ve been helping with him, not knowing I was alive.”
“I’m sorry,” Yoon looks at Hwapyung, “I’m sorry for not telling you.”
Hwapyung smiles, it’s sad, happy, and exhausted, a multitude of emotions flow from the small smile.
“I get it.” He says simply. Hwapyung looks away from Yoon, back towards the lowering sun.
“When I saw you that day,” Yoon starts, “And you asked me to follow you, I knew then, this is my chance to have you back in my life. I lost you once, Hwapyung. I wasn’t going to lose you again by scaring you away with the past.”
Hwapyung looks back at Yoon, eyes wide. Yoon takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands on his lap, and closes his eyes.
“I love you, Hwapyung.” Yoon whispers.
Silence.
There’s nothing but the sound of them breathing and the occasional squawk of a bird flying over. Yoon peeks open his eyes and finds Hwapyung staring at him, a smile forming on his face.
“Say it again.” Hwapyung moves towards Yoon, gently lifting his legs off. He crawls towards Yoon and swings his legs over Yoon’s trapping his legs between his thighs. Yoon’s eyes widen, but his hands come up, hovering close to Hwapyung’s waist, hesitating, waiting. Hwapyung rolls his eyes, chuckling. He grabs Yoon’s hands and guides them to his waist. Hwapyung leans forward, close enough that Yoon can feel the puffs of hair on his lips.
He glances down at Hwapyung’s lips.
“Say it again.” He watches.
“I love you, Hwapyung.”
Hwapyung leans forward, finally connecting their lips. Yoon lets his eyes fall shut, reveling in the way Hwapyung’s lips fit perfectly with his. Absolutely delights in the softness and almost melts when Hwapyung pushes forward. Kissing Hwapyung, holding Hwapyung, it was electrifying.
Hwapyung slows, pulling back slightly, the tiniest of spaces between them.
“I love you too, Yoon.” He places a sweet, chaste kiss before pulling away, leaning back on Yoon’s thighs.
“It’s a shame,” Hwapyung begins, trying to keep his face serious. Yoon assumes he has the same smile on his face that Hwapyung is trying to hide.
Hwapyung leans forwards, “I was looking forward to calling you Father in bed.”
Yoon barks out a laugh as Hwapyung smiles down at him. Yoon squeezes his waist, Hwapyung flinches and laughs loudly.
“You know,” Hwapyung scoots high up on Yoon’s lap, laces his fingers around Yoon’s shoulders, playing with the soft hair and the nape of his neck.
Yoon tightens his grip around Hwapyung’s waist. “I don’t remember you, but, when I first saw you, I had this, feeling. I knew you. I mean, I didn’t know you, but I felt like I did, like, I’ve already been through lifetimes with you.” Hwapyung blushes, pulling back slightly.
“I don’t know what I’m saying.” He finishes.
“I do.” Yoon leans forward, pressing a small kiss to the corner of Hwapyung’s mouth. He feels Hwapyung relax as he rubs comforting circles into his sides.
Yoon used to think nothing was this easy, life didn’t give out second chances, but with Hwapyung looking at him, with the smile that makes Yoon’s heart soar, he’s grateful that he did get a second chance. Even more grateful that Hwapyung gets a second chance.
Life isn’t easy, but loving Yoon Hwapyung is.