Archive of Our Own

It starts out as most initial touches do—fleeting, casual, nonchalant. Something tossed around easily, unprecedented, neither participant knowing that it would be the first of many. A simple beginning for what would soon blossom into something more. That’s how Choi Jun-woong sees it, anyway.

Jun-woong knows himself to be affectionate, willingly giving pieces of himself to others, tenderly hoping to be taken care of in kind. He’s never shy to give pats on the back in reassurance, hugs to those who look lost, and warm smiles to encourage just the slightest bit of happiness in another. He sheds tears for those he doesn’t know, his too-big heart bursting with empathy. He feels and feels and feels, perhaps too much, but can’t seem to turn it down inside himself.

He knows all this about himself, just like he knows how not everyone feels the same way about touch as he does. Jun-woong realizes this to be particularly true after he falls into a coma and finds himself working alongside two of the most introspective and reserved people he’s ever met.

Lim Ryung-gu and Koo Ryeon.

They’re a terrifying bunch, to say the least.

And yet…

And yet he has the utmost respect for both of them. They’re scary, sure, and could easily take anyone on and win without having to struggle in the slightest, but underneath those tough, subdued exteriors, they also are good people. They may not outwardly seem like the type or ever admit to such an idea, but they too have big hearts. Jun-woong sees it every time they get sent out on a case with the way they both try their hardest to save everyone, even the ones Jun-woong himself doesn't think are worth saving.

Because of their differences, it took the three of them a while to get past the initial awkwardness and learn to actually work together as a team, but Jun-woong is grateful that they eventually did. All the metaphorical stepping on toes and adjusting to becoming a well-oiled machine led to happier moments.

Moments where Jun-woong can openly express himself physically without feeling a sting of rejection every time he’s shrugged off by the two of them. Because now he knows that it’s all a front. They shrug him off not because they don’t like him, but because they’re not used to the affection. They’re receptive but hesitant. He understands now that he just needs to let them warm up to his antics and touches. Plus, he knows all it takes is a bit of puppy dog eyes and persistence for him to get what he seeks, even if there are grumbles and exaggerated winces accompanying it.

What he didn’t take into account, however, was the impact of his touch on one relationship in particular.

1.

It takes him a while to notice it at first, the way his affection changes between Lim Ryung-gu and Koo Ryeon. He’s not sure when it began to shift, but he can feel it.

He first notices it after a particularly difficult case involving a man who, unable to find a job after several years, felt so much pressure from himself, his family, and society that he was questioning if any of it was worth it anymore. He wanted to succumb to his beliefs that he was a failure, a burden, an unwanted part of society.

In the end, the team was able to successfully talk the man out of his concerning negative energy range and helped open his eyes once more to seeing the beauty of life and the motivation of failure. It should feel great to have helped someone else, but at the same time something nags.

And, as Jun-woong sits in the Risk Management Team’s office by himself, darkness shrouding him as he ponders, he can’t find it within himself to cheer up. He has no doubts that both Ryung-gu and Ryeon picked up on his melancholic attitude, but they shrugged him off and left after he feigned excuses of exhaustion after a long day. He thought they would put up a bit more of a fight to get him to talk, but they must have seen something written on his face that was pleading enough to convince them to give him space for now.

Jun-woong stares at a spot on the wall and drums his fingers on the cool surface of the table he sits at, lost in his thoughts.

The case dug up old feelings of doubt and self-worth that Jun-woong thought he had tucked far, far away after starting as a Grim Reaper. Suddenly the box shoved back in the deep recesses of his mind has fallen straight into his lap, the lid open for him to look inside and see where his insecurities lie. Watching that man sit at rock bottom, wondering if any of it was worth it anymore, felt like looking in a mirror. He still feels the unease tugging at him.

Jun-woong’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with these feelings now.

And so he sits there in the stillness of the room and wills the quiet to drown his thoughts and feelings.

Of course, that doesn’t happen.

What does happen, however, is the sound of footsteps breaking the silence of the room, which can only mean one thing: someone’s coming back to the office.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Jun-woong focuses his eyes away from the wall and instead looks down at the unfilled report he put in front of himself earlier for show. He knows he should get this done (the sooner, the better) but his heart and mind aren’t in it. However, for the sake of either Ryung-gu or Ryeon coming in, he’ll pretend. So he picks up the form and pretends to read it over as the footsteps near.

“You’re still here?”

Though Jun-woong knew someone was coming, he still feels his heart jump a bit in his chest at the sound of the visitor. He then feels his heart squeeze affectionately as he realizes whose voice called out to him. It’s been doing that a lot as of late whenever a certain someone is around…a certain someone who also just so happens to have returned.

Ryung-gu.

Jun-woong looks away from the report and up at his colleague. He forces a small smile as he responds, “I could ask the same of you. I thought your eight hours were up for the day?”

Jun-woong gets an unimpressed look in response to his half-willed teasing that softens his smile into something more genuine, his heart doing that stupid squeezy thing again when Ryung-gu gives a huff of a laugh after their mock stare-off.

“Forgot something,” Ryung-gu responds simply. That’s when Jun-woong notices something in Ryung-gu’s hand, though he can’t quite make out what it is in the darkness.

“Ah, right. Well, have a good night, for real now,” Jun-woong teases again. His eyes go back to the report and he expects to hear his colleague say nothing more as he walks out, but he’s mistaken when feels a gentle poke at his cheek that has Jun-woong turning his head to spot the culprit. His eyes meet Ryung-gu’s and he notices the slight pinch of his brows as the two stare at each other.

The silence eventually breaks.

“What’s that look on your face for?” Ryung-gu asks bluntly, but Jun-woong can read between the lines and has gotten better at understanding him and Ryeon’s true intentions. He can tell that the question comes from a place of concern, perhaps even worry. He sees it in the slightly pursed lips, the eyebrow crease, the warmth of the finger that pokes his cheek once more when the silence stretches for too long. He hears it laced between blunt words that to some may seem careless but are anything but.

“I…” Jun-woong starts, unsure of whether to lie and say he’s fine or be honest and open up.

Truthfully, Jun-woong wants to ask, “What if when I wake up I find myself on the brink like that man today?”

He wants to ask, “Is there any hope for me when I go back?”

He wants to ask, “How can I leave you and Ms. Koo?”

He wants to ask, “How can I forget you and Ms. Koo?”

He wants to ask, “How do I stop feeling this way?”

He wants to ask, “What do I do?”

Perhaps Ryung-gu can see the crossroads Jun-woong stands at because he responds with a soft, “You know, you don’t need to bottle things up. It might help to talk things out.”

And that…

That’s all it takes to make things clear.

“Do you think…” Jun-woong starts, pausing briefly before continuing, “When I wake up, do you think I’ll be okay?”

It’s a loaded question, and Jun-woong desperately searches Ryung-gu’s eyes for solace, a soft place to land.

“I think that with the right support, you’re going to be okay.” The response is quiet but firm, as if Ryung-gu truly believes what he’s saying. “And if you need to be reminded, then Ms. Koo and I will be there.”

And suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder. It’s a steady weight that brings Jun-woong down from the storm clouds that he found himself caught in. It doesn’t ease his anxiety entirely, but it quells it just enough for him to refocus. A thumb rubs small circles on his shoulder and he allows himself to relax somewhat.

“Promise?” Jun-woong asks quietly, feeling slightly childish and teary-eyed as he holds out his pinky to Ryung-gu.

“Promise.”

Ryung-gu lifts his hand from Jun-woong’s shoulder and wraps their pinkies together. The sight of their interlocked pinkies sends Jun-woong’s heart squeezing once more, and suddenly the smile he wears no longer feels forced.

And it’s enough.

What he misses, however, is the small, endeared smile that pulls on Ryung-gu’s lips and the soft gaze that’s sent his way. He misses the way Ryung-gu seems to relax at the sight of a comforted and still slightly glossy-eyed Jun-woong.

2.

It continues like this—touches that once held little impact now hold significant meaning. What previously was quick becomes lingering.

Jun-woong finds himself nowadays grasping for all the affection that comes his way from Ryung-gu with both hands, eager to receive but never attempting to ask for more, lest he be greedy. Since their heart-to-heart in the team office, Jun-woong noticed that Ryung-gu folds easier than he once did to Jun-woong’s physical touches. He tries not to abuse this newfound knowledge… too much, that is.

But sometimes, he can’t help but indulge himself and linger, milking each heart-pounding, stomach-fluttering touch for all that he can.

Take this instance, for example.

Currently, the team is walking down the streets of Seoul after wrapping up another successful case, debriefing as they go.

“Mr. Choi,” Ryeon’s voice calls out to him.

“Ma’am?” he responds.

There’s a pause as if she is considering her next words carefully.

“You did good today,” she settles on.

And suddenly Jun-woong stops walking and stares at her in shock. If he didn’t already know he was in a coma and working alongside Grim Reapers, he would’ve sworn that he had died and gone to heaven.

“Huh?” he manages to squeak out.

Ryeon gives a quick roll of her eyes as she and Ryung-gu stop walking too.

“You did good today,” she repeats, and oh…oh. He did hear correctly.

His eyes start to flood with tears as they usually do when he feels intense emotions.

“Ms. Koo…” He can’t get anything more out, too stunned and flying high on her praise. It’s few and far between as Ryeon is not the kind to toss niceties about without genuinely meaning them, so to hear it now feels like a victory.

A victory Jun-woong wants to celebrate as soon as possible.

And so, he turns to Ryung-gu as he always does whenever something good happens on a case, his hand up for a celebratory high five.

It takes a moment, but Jun-woong smiles as he watches Ryung-gu begrudgingly indulge him, raising his own hand up, mirroring Jun-woong’s, waiting to receive a high five. This isn’t the first time Ryung-gu indulges him in such playful antics, but it certainly doesn’t make it any less special to him. Perhaps it’s because of that and the soft fuzzy feeling in his stomach and the fluttering of his heart that Jun-woong does what follows.

In his shock and joy, Jun-woong allows his hand to hit Ryung-gu’s, but instead of backing away, he grabs on, interweaving their fingers together. He shakes their interlocked hands back and forth along with his whole body, the excitement from the praise overflowing him as he bounces on his toes.

Jun-woong calms his bouncing for just a moment to say with a radiant, puppy-ish smile, “Did you hear that, Mr. Lim? Now that I have Ms. Koo’s seal of approval-”

“Not my seal of approval,” she interjects, but her words are lost on him as he continues.

“-I’m practically a proper half-and-half Grim Reaper now, can you believe it?”

“And that’s not what I meant at all,” Ryeon interrupts, exasperated and resigned. She knows her words are lost on him when his attention is fully on Ryung-gu like this. She’s gotten used to how Jun-woong follows after the two of them like a lost puppy, but she always takes special notice of the lingering and sweet gazes he sends to their assistant manager in particular. Jun-woong always seems to perk up under Ryung-gu’s attention, even if all he gets sometimes are teasing remarks and devilish smiles.

Meanwhile, when Jun-woong doesn’t get a response from Ryung-gu—not that he was expecting something anyway besides a begrudging sigh or playful roll of the eyes at his antics—he turns and smiles at Ryeon who does little more than send a quick flicker of what may be a smile back at the display of his happiness.

“I promise to keep working hard!” He does a little fist pump, radiant smile still shining. Ryeon gives a scoff of amusement.

“Don’t make me regret saying anything,” she warns with no heat to her words.

The warmth in Jun-woong’s bones settles into something gooey as he continues holding on to Ryung-gu and smiling wide, his heart practically bursting from the affection he holds within.

What he doesn’t see through his euphoria, however, is the way Ryung-gu freezes entirely, eyes fixated on their intertwined hands. He doesn’t see the faint reddening of Ryung-gu’s ears. He doesn’t notice the urgent look Ryung-gu sends Ryeon when he snaps out of his shock, quietly begging her to do something about this unexpected situation.

Ryeon simply gives him a knowing wink before turning back to their over-eager puppy of a colleague who has begun bouncing again, less intensely this time, with their hands still together. She can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

Always eager to do something, Ryeon muses.

“We should celebrate this milestone!” Jun-woong announces, still oblivious to the silent pleading happening next to him. “I’ll buy beef!”

And just like that, Jun-woong begins walking down the street, dragging a sputtering Ryung-gu behind him.

“Wait-” Ryung-gu starts to object, but all words fail him when Jun-woong, still dragging him along, looks over his shoulder as he walks and says, “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re going to turn down free beef?”

Ryung-gu can’t get much of anything out right now (damn you, puppy dog eyes) with his tongue tied and thoughts scrambled still over their connected hands. He’s been finding it increasingly harder these days to turn down anything Jun-woong asks of him anyway, so, once again, he’s along for the ride.

Ryeon catches up next to them and tosses a taunting “It’d be rude to turn him down, Mr. Lim” to the duo over her shoulder, her heels clicking as she walks ahead of them.

Jun-woong perks up again and, squeezing Ryung-gu’s hand reassuringly, begins walking faster in the direction of the restaurant.

They hold hands the whole way.

3.

Some of Jun-woong’s favorite memories with the Risk Management Team are the quiet ones. The times when they can simply exist together in the same space and share quality time. It’s those moments where he feels he gets to know Ryeon and Ryung-gu best. Their interests, their personalities, their dislikes, their sense of humor…

He feels like they’re on even ground when they’re not running around and saving people, where their differences in experience and wisdom can be quite stark.

It also happens to be the moments where he feels the most human. The pressure of a job is relieved and he can simply enjoy existing with people he considers to be his friends as they do mundane activities together. Eating, drinking, talking…

Or, most recently, watching dramas.

It’s mainly Jun-woong and Ryung-gu who watch dramas together on either one of their phones or on one of their laptops. Ryeon has less of an interest in watching shows when she’s off the clock, though occasionally if the plot is compelling enough she may linger for an episode or two. Other than that, it’s mainly just him and Ryung-gu.

Jun-woong might just treasure those moments the most. 

Not only are they times when he can be casually close without crossing boundaries too drastically, but they also are just times for the two to bond. It’s quality time at its finest in his book. And if it sends all sorts of flutters in Jun-woong’s stomach to know that they have something they can do together, something they consider “their thing,” well…then no one needs to know but him. It's hard to bring his heart down from soaring during these moments.

Currently, the two are watching the next episode of the drama they started together last time they had a moment like this, though Jun-woong finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open. There’s something soothing about the instrumentals of the drama’s soundtrack coupled with the beautiful environment of the show that lulls his eyelids shut in preparation for sleep.

He takes a quick glance over at Ryung-gu who, as ever, is completely enraptured by the story being told. Jun-woong smiles fondly and the butterflies return in full force. He couldn’t tell you how long he spends staring at him, but next thing he knows, he’s laying his head down on Ryung-gu’s shoulder.

There’s a brief moment of pause between the two of them before Ryung-gu lets go of the sudden stiffness in his shoulders. Jun-woong faintly hears Ryung-gu clear his throat awkwardly as he subtly readjusts their arrangement, allowing his shoulder to become a more comfortable cushion.

Content with this new set-up, Jun-woong closes his eyes and allows himself to doze off to feelings of warmth.

What Jun-woong sometimes forgets, however, is that he’s a clingy sleeper. He likes to wrap his arms around whatever is closest to him (usually a pillow) and snuggle in as he hunkers down.

This is one of those instances.

In his sleepy haze, his arms move from his lap to wrap around Ryung-gu in an aggressive cuddle. He snuggles further into the other man’s shoulder and sighs happily as he fully nods off.

Ryung-gu, on the other hand, is more alert than ever.

Jun-woong misses the strong flush overtaking Ryung-gu’s ears and the awkward, flustered way his eyes flick between Jun-woong, the drama, and then Jun-woong again, as if trying to decide whether or not he should wake Jun-woong up. Jun-woong, however, fails to wake up to the gentle shakes on his shoulder and the insistent finger pokes on his thigh.

He’s not sure how much time passes, but eventually, Jun-woong starts to wake up from his cat nap to the noise of chatter above him. It sounds like a man and a woman talking, but he can’t seem to place who they are in his sleep-addled mind. His parents, perhaps? But wait, his dad passed away years ago. Who are they then?

“...me out?”

“...comfortable…”

“Not the time…”

“...always say that.”

“Wake him up…”

And while Jun-woong’s glad to see that these two people seem to be having a fun conversation, he’s tired, and their noise is hindering him from getting more sleep on this lovely and comfortable shoulder. He’s not willing to wake up from his nap quite yet.

And so, he lifts a heavy arm up from where it previously was wrapped and feels softly for the face of his cuddle partner. It takes a moment or two of soft smacking before he cups the person’s cheek. Having some sense of orientation now, Jun-woong does the only thing he can think of.

He lifts his head off from the incredibly cozy shoulder and places a soft kiss on the cheek of the person who wishes to wake him up.

“Five more minutes?” he pleads softly, making sure his voice sounds just a touch cute to try and really sway them.

There’s no immediate response back, so he blinks blearily to relocate the shoulder he was sleeping on and rest his head once more. The voices are a bit more urgent and argumentative when they pick up again, which means he’s slowly waking up more…which means Jun-woong will just have to beg harder.

“You heard him, just five more minutes,” a teasing female voice says. Jun-woong’s not sure who this woman is, but she’s on his side, and for that he’s thankful. Maybe with her support, he can go back to sleep.

“But he–” comes the man’s voice and oh no, Jun-woong refuses to hear this rebuttal, so he picks his head back up and places another kiss on this person’s cheek, making sure to linger just a touch longer this time.

“Five more minutes, please,” he pleads once more, nuzzling softly into the man's cheek.

Jun-woong hears some slight sputtering coming from the man and laughter from the woman, but neither of them says a word after that, so Jun-woong takes it as a certain win.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly, resting his head once more and nodding back off to sleep in no time. If there’s a response that follows, he doesn’t catch it.

When he wakes back up again feeling more refreshed and lucid, he finds himself still to be on Ryung-gu’s shoulder. His eyes flicker around the office and take in the idle phone on the desk coupled with the quiet surroundings. Clearly, whatever episode they were watching had finished.

What’s different this time, though, is the present weight against his head.

Without trying to cause too much disturbance, Jun-woong angles his head back and looks up to see Ryung-gu asleep and leaning on him. The warmth that follows fills him to his very core. He desperately wants to bottle this moment up and save it for a lifetime. He can’t help but take notice of how gentle and young, but still charming, Ryung-gu looks while asleep. His lips are parted slightly in his sleep and Jun-woong suddenly gets the urge to kiss them repeatedly. He’s been getting that urge a lot more recently, but never as intensely as it is now.

Deciding a surprise kiss right now isn’t the proper course of action, he switches gears.

Quietly pulling his own phone from his jacket pocket, he swipes open the camera app and makes sure it’s on selfie mode. Forming a little heart with his fingers, Jun-woong snaps a selfie of the two of them cuddled together like this. It’s purely selfish and maybe just a touch weird, but Jun-woong can’t find it within himself to care.

And if he makes that photo of them his phone home screen, well, that’s neither here nor there.

Satisfied with his accomplishment, Jun-woong tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket, rewraps his arms around Ryung-gu, and closes his eyes again for another nap.

Despite the slight crick in his neck that he feels when he fully wakes up and they eventually have to separate, it might just be the best sleep Jun-woong’s ever gotten.

4.

Of the three members of the Risk Management Team, Jun-woong’s more than aware that he’s the most expressive…and the most emotional…and the most frequent crier. The times when Ryung-gu and Ryeon become expressive and shed a tear or two are few and far between. More often than not, any expressions of emotion come from sensitive subjects with the cases they work—chords of painful familiarity that Jun-woong may not have all the context for but can see their harsh reverberations on the faces of his colleagues all the same.

Having spent time working on this team for some time now, Jun-woong is familiar with some of the trauma the two hold deep inside. It takes everything within himself to not reach out and immediately hug one of them whenever the pain of their past haunts them during a case.

But sometimes the status quo is challenged.

Jun-woong’s more than aware of the details of Ryung-gu’s past life when he was part of the Land of the Living. He knows of the regret Ryung-gu holds deep over what happened with his mother. He knows of the resonating ache of longing Ryung-gu has that sometimes flares up when he goes to the store his mother works at and he sees her within reach but so far away. He’s seen the peace written on Ryung-gu’s face whenever he returns from the store, comforted in the knowledge that his mother is still living and hanging in there despite the tragedy that seems to follow her.

Jun-woong may not be able to personally relate to Ryung-gu’s past, but he has a big, empathetic heart and fingers that itch to protect Ryung-gu from all the pain of the world. However, try as he might, Jun-woong cannot protect him from everything.

Jun-woong is walking around the hallways of Jumadeung when his eye catches Ryung-gu walking in streetwear with a blank expression on his face. He vaguely remembers Ryung-gu earlier in the day saying that he was going out to see his mother, and that tidbit of knowledge makes him perk up at the melancholic disposition of his colleague.

He makes the split-second decision to run up to him.

“Mr. Lim?” Jun-woong tries to catch his attention. It doesn’t seem to work. He tries again, “Mr. Lim?”

This time, Ryung-gu slows his pace, allowing for Jun-woong to catch up.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

There’s no response, and for a brief moment, Jun-woong wonders if Ryung-gu even comprehended what he asked.

“Was it your mother?” he questions once more.

Still no response.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jun-woong asks gently.

There’s still no verbal response, but this time it’s hard to ignore how Ryung-gu’s face crumples and tears begin to fill his eyes. Jun-woong feels his heart stutter and clench in sympathy as he watches someone he cares for greatly hurt like this.

Sometimes words don’t need to be said. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do for someone is be there for them. A reminder that they’re not alone, that they’re not suffering in silence, and that they’re seen. He wonders for how long Ryung-gu had to hurt and grieve in silence without anyone there to comfort him.

Jun-woong wraps his arms around Ryung-gu slowly, giving time for Ryung-gu to shrug him off or pull away. When nothing like that happens, Jun-woong fully eases into the hug, using their height difference to his advantage to try and cover Ryung-gu with his body to block any passersby from watching this scene.

“She had a bad day,” is all Ryung-gu discloses. Jun-woong doesn’t need to press further to understand the implications of that statement.

The agony of losing a child is not easily forgotten, and it’s something Ryung-gu’s mother will carry for the rest of her life. Episodes of intense grief and mourning are to be expected, but that doesn’t make them any easier for the parent or their loved ones. It hurts to watch the ones you care for and love suffering. Jun-woong himself feels it deep in his chest as Ryung-gu trembles in his arms and the dampness grows on his shoulder.

And so Jun-woong holds on just a little tighter, running his fingers through Ryung-gu’s hair in a repetitive, comforting manner. Occasionally his fingers pause as he places kisses on the other man's head before resuming their rhythm. Under his breath, he begins to hum a song his mother used to sing to him when he was a young kid and in great distress. It was a source of comfort for him then, and he hopes it can be useful now.

Jun-woong doesn’t see it, but within his steady arms, Ryung-gu takes a shuttering breath through his tears, allowing himself to sink further into the embrace. He doesn’t see the way Ryung-gu’s clenched fists soften before tentatively moving to wrap around Jun-woong in return.

Jun-woong couldn’t say how long the two stand there in an embrace, but he’s grateful no one dares to approach them and probe. Eventually, though, he feels Ryung-gu begin to move back, his cheeks still slightly damp but the tears quelled. Jun-woong reaches out a hesitant hand and wipes away some of the tears, the clenching of his heart easing slightly as he sees Ryung-gu returning to a more calm state.

He allows his hand to linger as he cups Ryung-gu’s cheeks, his thumb swiping gently over his cheekbones. Even when tear-stained and snotty, Jun-woong can’t help but find Ryung-gu inexplicably beautiful. He wishes for nothing more than to take all the hurt away and make sure Ryung-gu is happy.

It’s then that he feels something click into place in his chest—an understanding he hadn’t had prior that suddenly seems clear.

He’s in love with Ryung-gu.

It’s not earth-shattering, it’s not nerve-wracking, just a simple realization. The quiet understanding of oh, it’s you followed by of course it is, who else would it be?

It brings a soft edge of peace to his trembling heart.

Jun-woong swipes Ryung-gu’s cheek one last time before withdrawing his hand, offering up a tender smile in its place. The two stare at each other. Jun-woong sees something he can’t quite place in Ryung-gu’s eyes that extends beyond fond and eases into something else. It’s almost too much to bear, but Jun-woong can’t look away, nor does he want to.

“Thank you,” Ryung-gu eventually whispers, afraid to shatter the fragileness of their bubble.

It’s a loaded response, but Jun-woong feels it for what it is all the same.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you,” Jun-woong whispers back.

The not forever goes unspoken, neither willing to break the gentle aura they’ve created. Instead, Ryung-gu nods his head before quickly wiping under his nose with his jacket sleeve. He makes a disgusted face at the snot left behind that has Jun-woong laughing softly, hopelessly endeared.

Ryung-gu looks up at Jun-woong confused.

“What’s so funny?” he inquires.

“Nothing, nothing. Just surprised that such an old man like you doesn’t carry around a handkerchief and has to resort to his sleeves,” Jun-woong teases, “After all, you’ve been around since when? The Joseon dynasty? That must make you…let’s see, almost two hun-”

Ryung-gu rises to the bait and pinches Jun-woong’s arm, effectively cutting him off as Jun-woong starts laughing again. Ryung-gu composes himself to appear affronted at Jun-woong’s audacity to call him old.

“I don’t like you,” he grumbles, but they both know that’s not true.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Lim,” Jun-woong taunts back, a smug smile on his face.

The two begin walking away, Ryung-gu continuing to playfully grouse about how annoying Jun-woong is.

Jun-woong’s heart soars through it all.

5.

In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t go as intended. Especially considering how many times Jun-woong has thought about it, wondering how it would play out—if it would play out at all.

In Jun-woong’s fantasies, sometimes it’s quiet and gentle, lights low and the atmosphere warm as the two fall into a familiar formation of cuddling, because that’s what they do now. Maybe there’s the soundtrack of a drama filling in the silence, neither paying attention to what’s on the screen but instead giving their undivided attention to the other. Maybe Ryung-gu’s ears turn that pleasant shade of pink that Jun-woong can’t help but be enamored by. Maybe his own hands shake as they grasp for purchase in the other’s jacket, drawing their lips ever closer before a kiss happens.

Sometimes in his fantasies, it’s loud and cool, dazzling lights surrounding them as the wind gently ruffles their clothes in the outside air. There are sounds of people walking all around them, but their attention is solely on each other—nothing else could dare to compete. And despite any nearby outsiders, no one but them would understand the gravity of the situation, that this is their first kiss together and a tipping point in their relationship.

Jun-woong clings to each scenario closely, wondering how it may possibly unfold for them should fate allow it.

Except, fate takes matters into its own hands, providing a situation that Jun-woong had never fantasized about.

It goes like this.

They’ve finished up another successful saving and are slowly making their way back to Jumadeung and their office to properly wrap this case up.

Slowly being the operative word.

For Jun-woong, he trails behind by a few feet, his aching body forcing him to move at a slower pace. It doesn’t happen often much anymore, but every now and then his feet and heart act before his mind can even think, causing him to be on the receiving end of physical altercations.

Today was one of those instances.

Without thinking, his feet lept into action and his body paid the price. The girl—the one who had been their cause for concern and saving—had been steadfast and determined to get Jun-woong away from her so she could leave this world without his interference.

The price for his determination? Scraped knees and hands from falling onto concrete, a split lip from getting punched, and a slightly bruised ego.

Perhaps one of the more violent responses to their help, sure, but even so he can’t find it within himself to begrudge her, especially knowing what he knows and seeing that pleading desperation in her eyes.

Doesn’t mean he can’t begrudge his body for being weak, though.

Unfortunately, despite being a Grim Reaper in practice, Jun-woong lacks the supernatural Grim Reaper abilities that his superiors possess, one of which being their strength and practically indestructible body (unless another Grim Reaper is involved…then that goes right out the window).

Which means that while Ryung-gu and Ryeon are relatively unscathed after any human altercations, Jun-woong feels every bit of it just like he would if he wasn’t in this half-and-half state.

It’s clear that his injuries aren’t flying under the radar as he hopes considering how often both Ryung-gu and Ryeon look back at him while they walk ahead. Though they may not look particularly concerned with their facial expressions, the giveaway is how they slow down and match his pace without a word.

Jun-woong, despite his aches and scrapes and bloodied lip, can’t help but feel pleased at their silent but present expression of care.

Ryung-gu was the first to cave between the two and offered to help Jun-woong clean himself up once they got back.

And this leads them to now—a quiet moment in a bathroom, the only noises heard being Jun-woong’s occasional wince of pain at his injuries being cleaned and patched up.

“I thought we were past blind superhero antics,” Ryung-gu comments. Jun-woong immediately picks up on the slight edge of his voice, momentarily wondering why it’s there at all.

“I couldn’t help it,” Jun-woong defends himself, his voice picking up a similar edge to it. “Someone had to do something to intervene, and I didn’t see either you or Ms. Koo acting.”

“Because there’s a time and a place, and you clearly still don’t understand that.” Ryung-gu’s quick on the comeback, and Jun-woong feels himself wince a bit at the harshness of the reprimand.

“It’s not like I want to-”

“Then don’t.”

“But I don’t see why you’re being so upset about this-”

“Because you were hurt!”

And suddenly the silence returns full force, this time with an underlying layer of tension. Jun-woong takes a moment to process what has been said. It clicks all at once.

“You were worried about me,” he whispers.

Ryung-gu immediately looks away, fiddling with the medical supplies on the bathroom counter. He says nothing. Jun-woong gently grasps his arm.

“I’m okay. You don’t need to be so worried. Nothing major happened.”

Ryung-gu’s still not looking in his direction, and Jun-woong gives his arm a little tug of encouragement to bring Ryung-gu’s attention back to him. It takes a few moments, but it works.

“You’re so…weak like this,” and he’s whispering so softly that Jun-woong nearly misses it. “You get injured so easily.”

Jun-woong doesn’t have much of a response to that, so he just settles for squeezing Ryung-gu’s arm. The jokes and fast quips that they usually swap don’t feel appropriate right now.

“I don’t like to see it,” Ryung-gu confesses. Jun-woong feels his heart tug painfully, knows how if the situation were reversed, he’d feel the same way.

“I know,” he responds, equally as soft. “I don’t like it either, and I promise I am trying to be less impulsive.”

“I know you are.”

Jun-woong pulls Ryung-gu into his arms after that, the two holding onto each other and taking comfort in the knowledge that the other is okay. Time passes and eventually the two separate slowly. They’re close, too close, not close enough.

It culminates with this—a sudden, hesitant kiss on the lips that catches them both off guard despite Jun-woong whispering a quiet “Can I…?” beforehand. What followed was a stunned expression, a slow but eager nod, and intense eye contact. All these elements come together for this one moment.

It’s not the most swoon-worthy kiss, all things considered—Jun-woong’s lip is busted so the kiss is quick and delicate, just the faintest touching of lips—and yet, it still makes Jun-woong weak in the knees.

Sure there’s a flash of pain at the irritation of his lips and sure there’s a slight metallic taste to it all and yeah they’re in a bathroom of all places, but it still leaves Jun-woong’s heart stuttering in his chest, his knees feeling like jelly, and his palms just a bit sweaty.

So no, it’s not how Jun-woong had intended it to play out at all in any of his fantasies, and yet it somehow fits them perfectly.

Eventually, though, they have to pull away.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Ryung-gu remarks.

“And why not?” Jun-woong asks. He can think of many reasons why this is a good idea.

“Because you can’t stay,” is the argument he receives back.

“But I won’t be gone forever–”

“And what will happen with this, with us, if you find your red string on Earth, hm? Then what?”

“I don’t need a red string to tell me who I should be with,” Jun-woong says with conviction. He grabs onto Ryung-gu’s hand, a pleading look in his eyes as he continues, “I choose you.”

“But when you go back you’re going to forget and find someone else–” Ryung-gu counters, but Jun-woong is quick to interrupt.

“Maybe I will or maybe I won’t,” Jun-woong agrees. “I’m not sure what will happen once I wake up, but I refuse to believe that fate brought me here, brought me to you, only for this to be a momentary thing. I refuse to believe that we’ll end in loss. And maybe it’s foolish of me, I don’t know but…I’d like to think fate is kinder than that.”

A pause.

“You’re too optimistic for your own good,” Ryung-gu says, looking away from Jun-woong, but unable to move his hands from where they grasp Jun-woong’s tightly.

“One of us has to be.”

Jun-woong takes this opportunity to place a gentle kiss on Ryung-gu’s turned cheek, just barely managing to hold in a slight wince from the forgotten lip injury.

“I choose you, and I choose to love, even if I lose,” he repeats, as firm but loving as he can. He pauses for a moment, considering his next words and the weight of its response, “Do you choose me?”

“Yes,” Ryung-gu replies with absolutely no hesitation, determination and want set in his eyes as he turns back to face Jun-woong. Even in this shoddy bathroom lighting, he somehow manages to look stunning. Jun-woong desperately wants to cover his stupidly gorgeous face with kisses, but the conversation is not over yet. There will be a time for kiss smothering later.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay? You and me,” Jun-woong says comfortingly. “Take it one day at a time, that’s all we have to do.”

“I’d wait forever for you,” Ryung-gu quietly admits, even though Jun-woong can see how it pains him to be openly heartfelt in this moment. It’s hopelessly endearing and sweet, and it sends happy flutters in his heart and tingles straight through to Jun-woong’s fingers. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy.

“Well, good thing you won’t have to wait forever, that just sounds like a long time. Plus, you’re not getting any younger. You’re robbing the cradle as it is. There’s what? How many years between us? At least one hundred and–”

Ryung-gu thoroughly shuts him up with a firm kiss, split lip be damned, and Jun-woong revels in the fact that they can do this now. He doesn’t even feel the pain from his injuries. They’re washed away by his euphoria and the love he feels for this man.

And so it continues.

+1.

Time is a fleeting, elusive thing—both a blessing and a curse. You may think that you have all the time in the world when in reality fate can take hold and change the entire course for you with you being none the wiser. Since starting this job with the RM Team, Jun-woong has often found himself wondering how much fate has meddled with where he is now.

Whenever he looks over at Ryung-gu and relishes in how lucky he is to have the chance to love and be loved in return by someone so amazing, he thanks fate with all that he can.

However, when fate throws a fast one at him and catches him off-guard and unprepared, he wants nothing more than to curse it out as loudly as possible.

It goes like this.

He walks into the team office, ready for another day of working with two of his closest companions when, instead of the usual warm greeting from his lover and reserved hello from the team’s leader, he gets pained expressions.

It’s almost ironic how the office finally seems brighter than ever, but the mood radiating from the two has it plummeting back down just as fast.

Jun-woong has a gut feeling he knows what this is about, but he hopes he’s wrong.

He’s not.

And with every word that Ryung-gu and Ryeon say as they break the news to him that it’s time to return to the Land of the Living, he feels his heart stutter, stumble, and fall to the ground by his feet.

“Everyone that fate brings together must part at least once, whether they like it or not,” Ryeon says to him.

He feels his heart lurch at her words and crack further at the idea of leaving them, leaving this team, leaving Ryung-gu behind. It’s not the first time he’s thought about this moment, but he always assumed he had time—because that’s what was agreed upon. 6 months. 6 months of working with the RM Team before he would wake up back in the Land of the Living. At the start of this all, he was happy with the plan, eager to follow along and reunite with his family as soon as possible.

But now?

Now the time has come to leave and he shatters.

When he first joined the team after falling into a coma, Jun-woong didn’t plan on getting so close to the two Grim Reapers, becoming passionate about the job, falling in love…none of it. In all honesty, he had originally been anticipating his final day, once thinking that even 6 months seemed too far out. That eagerness changed to dread once ties began forming, feelings joined the mix, and the first stolen kiss occurred…so for his final day to come not only suddenly but early when he’s hopelessly attached?

It nearly causes him to begin sobbing right then and there.

But this isn’t permanent; it’s just temporary until he dies for real and can come back.

So why does it feel so hard to say goodbye?

Perhaps it’s because they’ve settled together as a team into a quasi-family dynamic. Ryeon is finally smiling, happy in her afterlife, and looking forward to the next day and what may come. Ryung-gu is finally at peace with his past and allowing himself to enjoy the present without worrying about the future. Even Park Joong-gil, a man Jun-woong always had some trepidation towards, is turning a new leaf, no longer plagued with hindering nightmares but rather with ambitions to set things right with Ryeon and atone with himself for all that has happened.

Or perhaps it’s because he can’t get his mind off the fact that it feels like he’s abandoning Ryung-gu…leaving him to deal with the heartbreak alone while Jun-woong goes about his mortal life mindless to the fact that he left the one he loves most behind with all the memories they’ve shared.

Or maybe it’s both.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Fate will do what fate must and try as he might, he can’t stop it.

Jun-woong doesn’t even notice that he has started to cry until the last thing he sees before his vision blurs by his own tears is the matching looks of concern on Ryung-gu and Ryeon’s faces.

“Stop your crying,” Ryung-gu scolds gently, wiping away Jun-woong’s tears despite barely holding back his own tears. “This isn’t goodbye forever.”

Jun-woong nods along, tears still falling. He tries to pull himself together. He wishes he could leave without looking like a heartbroken mess for Ryung-gu’s sake, but he can’t.

“Promise?” Jun-woong asks, his voice incredibly small.

He feels a hand pull away from his cheek only to stop in his line of sight, Ryung-gu’s pinky lifted up and waiting expectantly. Jun-woong feels the gentle tug of a memory of the first time they did a pinky promise together, and his heart hurts all over again.

He lets out a wet laugh, wiping away a stray tear on his own cheek before wrapping his pinky around Ryung-gu’s.

“Promise,” Ryung-gu swears.

They linger for a moment before Jun-woong pulls his pinky away in favor of a tight—too tight—hug.

“I love you,” Ryung-gu whispers in his ear. Jun-woong just barely manages a choked-up “I love you too” in response before the tears come back at full force.

It ends as most final touches do—clinging, desperate, heartbroken. The grains of sand slip through clenched fists as time marches onwards and the weight of reality sits heavy on their shoulders.

No amount of preparation could suffice for this situation. For goodbyes. And as the two grasp at each other in a hug, it’s hard to wish for anything but more moments. To wish for this one moment to drag on. To wish for the grains to return to their hands and reset the clock.

They’re holding onto each other tightly and yet it already feels like the other has slipped away.

Ryung-gu’s the first to pull back. Probably because he knows I never would, Jun-woong thinks.

Tenderly cupping Jun-woong’s cheeks, Ryung-gu leans in for one last soft kiss that starts and ends all too quickly.

“We’ll see each other again,” Ryung-gu whispers, a small smile pulling at his lips. Like before, all Jun-woong can do is nod along. When Ryung-gu’s hands fall back to his sides, Jun-woong turns away, knowing that his time is nearly up.

He faces Ryeon with a heavy heart and moves forward with his goodbyes, nearly bawling again when Ryeon tells him that he did a great job—the highest praise he’s ever received from her. His whole chest hurts as the reality of the situation sinks in further.

Jun-woong watches in slow motion as Ryeon lifts her fingers in front of him and snaps.

It ends like this—with a beginning.

Jun-woong wakes up in a hospital, none the wiser about what happened these past few months.

And so it goes.

He reunites with his family after waking up from a coma.

He gets his long sought-after job.

He has a chance encounter with three people on a rooftop who claim to be Grim Reapers after he saves his coworker from committing suicide.

He notices their warm looks and soft smiles, as if they have a fondness for him. He sees the way one of them seems to be getting a touch emotional and teary-eyed despite his smile, something like pride coloring his face all the while. He feels his chest ache at the sight of the held-in tears.

As they walk away, he feels drawn to follow them, their faces familiar, but unplaceable.

He stays where he is.

The ache doesn’t dissipate.

And so it goes.

The riddle the female (supposed) Grim Reaper said is, as promised, answered when he dies 50 years later.

Jun-woong passes away quietly of natural causes, surrounded by his loved ones.

He watches as his family begins mourning over his body as he stands away from his corporeal form. He’s not sure how much time passes before a deep voice calls out his name followed by his time and date of birth.

“This life has been collected,” says the man in a suit, “Finally.”

A fleeting memory from his youth enters Jun-woong’s mind.

“It’s you,” he says, remembering the moment on the rooftop from all those years ago. “You’re really a Grim Reaper.”

The man in the suit simply nods and smiles at him.

“And you managed to live your life for your entire designated lifespan,” the Grim Reaper says. “But I think it has been long enough, don’t you?”

Jun-woong’s about to ask what he means by that when suddenly the Grim Reaper’s fingers are in front of him and with a simple snap, it all comes flooding back. The cases, the team, the love, the laughter…how could he have forgotten it? He suddenly wishes to start running to Jumadeung to see the others.

Jun-woong is caught off guard when he hears deep laughter coming from next to him. Park Joong-gil. That’s right. It appears a lot changed while he was gone, the first change being Park Joong-gil finally getting himself out of his head and enjoying his afterlife. He actually appears to have a personality beyond “sophisticated but broody.”

He wonders what else he’s missed.

“You know how this goes,” Joong-gil says, turning on his heel and walking out of the bedroom with his two assistant Reapers. Jun-woong, despite still appearing in his old age as a spirit, is able to keep up with the trio, no longer slowed down by worn joints.

He follows them through his home’s hallways which transition into the familiar corridors of Jumadeung that he hasn’t seen in decades. He’s guided through double doors into a flourishing garden where the Jade Emperor sits, waiting for his arrival.

Jun-woong doesn’t get the chance to thank Joong-gil before the doors shut once more, leaving him alone with the Emperor herself.

“Choi Jun-woong,” she starts with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, ma’am,” he says with a bow, and it’s true. He feels comforted at seeing her, though the itch to walk right out the doors to track down Ryeon and Ryung-gu hasn’t settled even slightly.

“You’ve had quite the crowd missing you here,” she informs him, her smile turning more knowing, causing him to blush a bit. He rubs his hands together, noticing rather belatedly that he’s now back in his younger form as a spirit—the same way he was last time he was here when he was still comatose.

“I suppose we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer, should we?” she muses.

As if on cue, the double doors swing open, and there, in all his rushed glory, is Lim Ryung-gu. The man he left behind, the man he loved. The man he still loves. The man he never will stop loving, not when fate has brought them together once again. Not when they’re finally reunited with all of eternity waiting before them.

Jun-woong’s vision starts to blur at the sight of his lover, and he laughs when he notices Ryung-gu in a similar state.

It starts one last time like this—with the feeling of home washing over him as the two meet halfway as they run to each other. The ache that Jun-woong felt for so long while he was alive settles as his arms wrap around his lover for the first time in decades. The touch seems to settle something within Ryung-gu too. The red string that ties them together snaps back into place at their proximity.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Jun-woong whispers like a prayer, pressing kisses all over Ryung-gu’s face.

He could keep going, keep repeating those words between flurried kisses to make up for all the years he had forgotten their love, but he’s muted by familiar lips pressing against his own.

Time passes slowly, or maybe it doesn’t pass at all. Maybe it stretches for miles or passes in a blink of an eye. Jun-woong doesn’t know and doesn’t care.

All he knows is touch and warmth and love.

When Ryung-gu pulls away, the first thing he says is a breathless, “You talk too much.”

Jun-woong laughs, loud and unbridled, clutching tightly onto Ryung-gu’s waist and bringing him in for another tight hug that he has no intentions of letting go of any time soon. Judging by the strong arms that hold him close, Jun-woong is willing to bet Ryung-gu feels the same way. He hears a whispered “I love you too.” With his heart bursting in his chest at the words, Jun-woong can’t help but place a kiss on Ryung-gu’s cheek in response.

Over his lover’s shoulder, his eyes meet Ryeon’s who, though she didn’t run over to meet him and clearly snuck into the garden during their reunion, also looks happy to see him after so long.

He extends an arm out to Ryeon as an invitation.

With a roll of her eyes and a smile on her lips, Ryeon walks over and joins the two in a long overdue hug.

Jun-woong’s heart fills with happiness and he weeps in their arms.

He’s right where he should be.

And so it goes.