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The squelch of wet grass rang in Big's ear.
Half of him was leaning, the other attempting to run. Operating on instinct and a flood of adrenaline surging through him, so strong it churned his stomach. Flashes of green and brown rushed by in a blur. Shiny, dark stems grazed his cheek, scraped down his side. Ripping his face. Slicing through skin. But there was no energy left in Big's chest to push out a hiss through his teeth.
It hurt to think, to blink, to breathe; lightning strikes of pain splintered from the top of his head, down his neck. Big tightened his fingers, the surface he was leaning on shifting to accommodate his weight.
The firm muscle underneath Big's fingers helped lift his body up and over branches, leaves, wet, shiny ground. Clinging mud on Big's shoes sprayed the scene around him as they ran.
The world fell around him. Folded him up. Through flashes of black, Big found himself being set on the rocky ground.
A sharp ping resonated through the air. The smell of fireworks drifted past Big's nose. A yell rang out. Maybe in the distance. Maybe from himself.
"Come on," he heard. Solid. Distinct. Big rose up without thought, just motion, forward, move, move, move.
Static began to clear from his vision. The light of the sun above him dissipated, the ground underneath his feet turning from wet, clingy mud to a loose, dry dirt. Small rocks and stems of dried-up leaves littered the ground. A large, flat rock raised from the ground like a dais, a perfect place to lay on.
It's a cave, he realized, in the space where his consciousness flowed in and out like a wave, flickering, fleeting. The back of his head throbbed in pain with the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Big let out his breath in a slow, measured exhale. Trying to rotate his body so he didn't jostle his head, his eyes swept across the threshold. Taking stock of the environment around him.
"Chan?" Big asked. Tried to. He coughed, retching, hands flying up to grip the crown of his head.
It was wet. The strands there stuck together strangely in a nest where his hair was supposed to be tied up. Did he forget to brush his hair that morning? No, no. He remembered it not cooperating, the stray bits giving him a hard time, Ken teasing him about it, saying that they were taking Kinn to an event, not starring in a beauty contest.
Big brought his hand away, staring slack-jawed at the dark blood staining his palm, shining black in the faint light coming in from the cave mouth.
Big struggled to summon any memory before this point. Was it a wrong left turn? Did they crash? He recalled the screech and gleam of twisting metal. Blood dripping in the dirt like breadcrumbs. Gunfire rushing past his ears.
Shuffling noises brought Big back to the present. The jagged rip of fabric, the wet, slick trickle of water from the walls. Big noticed the very edge of the thin beginnings of a stream—clear, sparkling water glimmering in the depths.
Chan's silhouette flitted from one wall to the next. Before too long, he moved swiftly to Big's side, jacket already stripped off and folded neatly.
"Here," he said, touching Big lightly on the shoulder, guiding him gently upwards. He placed the folded jacket behind Big's head, propping him against the wall.
"Was I in a fight?" Big whispered. The effort of the words leaving his mouth made his lungs ache. His question dissolved in the steamy, mid-day light.
Chan slipped him a sympathetic look between flashing quick glances at the cave mouth, but said nothing. He finished scanning the area, tilted Big's head at an angle, thumb brushing the underside of his chin, surveying the damage.
Blinding white seared Big's vision, his eyes screwing shut. Balling his fists in his dirty, ripped shirt.
"Don't strain yourself. Be still. Be quiet," Chan murmured, low and gravelly. The subdued musk of his cologne surrounded Big from the jacket around his shoulders, making it easier for him to relax.
The ache in his head dulled for a brief moment, his eyes sliding closed.
A hand on his cheek startled him into consciousness.
"Stay awake." A note of panic swelled in Chan's voice, wavering in a way that made Big's heart skip. "I have to see if I can get help," Chan continued, squeezing Big's shoulder. "I can't keep an eye on you at the same time. You have to try. Listen to me."
Chan bent over Big, grazing the side of his torso that had been torn apart by branches. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a square of fabric from the inside pocket. He lifted himself up, straddling the large rock next to them to get a better look, and pressed the fabric down gently onto the wound, blotting away the blood.
Waves of agony shot through Big. It hurt, it hurt so bad, it hurt more than anything, but Chan's words echoed in his head. Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen to me.
"Keep that there," Chan said. "I'll be right back. Keep your head up."
Chan came back with cupped hands, water glistening inside his palms. Big didn't question the quality or where it came from. When Chan raised his hands towards Big's lips, they parted gratefully, his hot throat gulping down the cool liquid like a pitiful starving infant. He may have even licked the last drops from Chan's fingers.
Sitting back against Chan's jacket, things started to clear a little. The pain remained, floating down his skull, but undermined by Big's need to make sense of the past couple of hours. The outline of the shadows of leaves swayed along the shallower walls of the cave, the light starting to dip into an inkier, evening quality.
"What happened?"
"Surprise ambush. Your foot slipped in the grass." Chan's breath came in short, quick bursts. From the angle he was sitting, Big could spot a large, dark splotch of blood blooming on Chan's pant leg. "Mine got grazed when I put you down. It was too risky to be out in the open after that. We had to run."
Chan turned, footsteps thudding as he disappeared into the distance. Big heard a jagged ripping noise. When Chan came back, it was with his shirt removed, both sleeves ripped off, tank top see-through with sweat.
An unmistakable flinch flashed across Chan's face as he knelt next to Big. Damp, folded sleeve in hand, he used it to wipe the dirt and grime from Big's forehead. Patted the sweat away from his eyes. Swept away the moisture adhered to his cheeks.
Big sighed at the contact. The fabric was smooth and cool against his heated skin, and Chan's fingers against the base of his neck provided a comfort he could not articulate. Thoughts continued to ravage his mind, and he let himself drift into them. Other than being in a cave, he doesn't know where they are. He remembered the sky turning dark. Cloudy. Did it rain? Big's shirt was wet. There's no heavy, familiar weight by his side. Big reached down, feeling the empty holster where his gun was missing. Icy cold shot down his back. Did he drop it?
Big's heart roared in his chest so loudly he almost confused it for thunder. He swallowed past the pounding in his head, sliding his hands underneath his legs to lift himself up.
Before he could get too far, Chan stopped him, both hands coming down on him this time. His face loomed above, like the moon in the sky, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"No."
The light at the mouth of the cave had diminished almost completely. Chan's features become less sharp by the minute, swallowed by both the darkness and Big's fuzzy, abused head. But he can see Chan's concern from a mile away. A lighthouse atop a rocky shore.
The stormy, bruise-shaped sky gave way instantly to a moonless, inky black in the span of a blink.
Big squinted in an attempt to get used to the lack of light. He struggled again to sit up. "We have to get to Kinn—"
Chan sighed out a huffy breath, pressing Big towards the ground. Holding him there. "You're not going anywhere."
Big dug his heels into the rocky ground, pivoting his body toward the wall, trying to wrangle himself away. Chest heaving. Dizzy but determined. "We need to—"
"Hey, hey," Chan's voice came louder this time, echoing off the walls of the cave. His hands squeezed harder in their place, his thumbs digging sharply into the groove of Big's collarbone. Big slumped down, all the fight leaving him as Chan angled his head down so their eyes met.
"Listen." Chan's voice was firm, but the undercurrent of worry was stronger. "Your body is pumping with adrenaline right now, so you want to fight. But you hit your head. You need to get it together. Remember your training.”
Chan swiped the damp fabric down Big's cheek, bringing away a stringy blade of grass. He lowered himself back onto the ground. Big noted the red-rimmed exhaustion lining his eyes through the spinning void.
But his grounding words and gentle actions brought Big's senses back one by one. He blinked away his panic, focusing on his breath. Focusing on the familiar orders from Chan's familiar face.
Jerking his head to the side, Chan pointed out his phone, laid out in pieces on a rock on top of one of the ripped sleeves.
"It didn't break, but it did get wet. It won't take too long to dry out. Even if we can't get it working, we should be safe here until I can fix us up enough to get back."
The words floated through Big's head, feeling more like cotton than anything solid. Big couldn't open his eyes without his vision being penetrated with patchy black. His mind lulled him into a dreamy, relaxed state.
Big let out a long, controlled breath. "So, what can I do?"
Chan managed a smile, head dipping down and shaking fondly. "Just let me know if you see any snakes."
**
"Favorite color?"
Big laughed. "I don't have one."
"What?" A low groan rattled Chan's throat as he lifted the leg of his pants. He still managed to look at Big with a wild, side-eyed look. "How do you not have a favorite color?"
Big shrugged, head lolling on the rocky wall. His back was aching, ass falling asleep. "I like all of them. I can't pick one."
"You have to pick one."
"Why?"
"This isn't a test or quiz. We're trying to keep you awake. Any color."
Sighing, Big wracked his brain. His mind settled on a memory of standing behind Kinn at one of the main family meetings, when he noted the deep red of the tie Chan had been wearing that day.
"Red," he answered.
"Do you remember what the day is today?"
"Friday. Friday around the evening, I think. Or it was."
"Right, you're right," Chan assured him, ripping a strip of fabric to apply to his skin. He hesitated for a brief moment, thinking. "First kiss?"
Shivers shook Big's body awake. He wasn't even cold.
His eyelids fluttered open, their tips tickling his brow.
Kinn's warm eyes stared back at him.
It wasn’t real. Big knew. Kinn’s visage, the warmth on his skin, none of it. Not the way Kinn leaned in, not the scent of him persisting through the alcohol on his breath.
It was Kinn's fifteenth birthday, and Kinn leaned in with a dizzy laugh to give Big his first kiss.
"That was your first time?"
Big groaned, letting Chan think it was about the pain.
So far, Big had gotten used to the limited light. And at the mouth of the cave, the purple-orange evening moonlight had spilled in, bruising the ground. Big noted the crinkling at the corner of Chan's eyes, the small flare of his nostrils as he pressed one of the makeshift bandages around his ankle.
Kinn's birthday was a hot day. Big's jeans had been too new, scratchy on the inside, too stiff to move in comfortably. Kinn's new cologne burned in his nose, a gift from a friend of the family, spicy and too strong. He could see clearly the bead of sweat that rolled down Kinn's face. Could feel it hit his arm. At the moment it happened, Big flinched.
He didn't flinch at what came after.
Big slid his eyes to Chan. He could practically feel the redness creeping up to the surface of his skin, crawling from his neck to his cheeks. Chan was there, he knew all about it, the realization hitting Big like a freight train.
"When was the last time you felt scared?"
Big's forehead wrinkled. "Can we stop asking so many questions?" His eyes fluttered, vision flickering, like looking through an old film reel.
Warmth bloomed against the inside of Big's thigh. Chan, by his side in an instant.
Big glanced up at his face, suddenly very close. It was marred by an unconcealed grimace, the price of leaning on his bad leg.
"Do it for me, okay? Can you do that?"
Big swallowed around a dry throat. Between the man in front of him and his jacket cushioning his head from the rocky cave wall, Big was consumed in Chan's scent, still warm, still smelling like him, sharp and sweet pine surrounding him like an outer shell.
A definite, deliberate pressure of Chan's thumb swept across Big's thigh before he pulled away.
Big blushed bright. Probably shined like a beacon. "Okay. But can we talk about something else?"
**
The next time he woke up, Big heard muffled sounds in the distance. Light flickered behind his eyelids, white and bright. The hum of a television, people talking, and an inexplicable warmth brought him back to consciousness.
His eyes opened.
A dream. He'd fallen asleep, but it must have been for only a second, because Chan no longer looked concerned.
Everything had a slight yellow tinge, a sepia photograph brought to life. Big huffed out a pained breath and put a hand to his forehead, sighing when the hot back of his hand hit the cool skin underneath.
His vision shimmered. Like his eyes were tightly shut instead of watching Chan fiddling with parts of things on the ground.
Did another day pass? How many was that? It didn't feel like only one. Going on the second? The third? No, not the third. He would be much weaker.
His thoughts scattered as Chan slipped the last part of whatever he was doing in place. Big saw clearly now in the fresh light; Chan assembled the backing of the phone into place with a click. His hand slid to his side, squeezing the handle of his gun and turning to Big with a nod.
"I'll be right back. No service in here. I'm going to see if I can get a signal from outside."
Every muscle in Big's body locked up. He grabbed Chan's forearm, a ball of fiery anxiety starting to burn in his chest. The quick, rough motion kicked nausea throughout Big's stomach, but he ignored it easily.
"Don't leave, please."
He couldn't explain his fear. He was a capable bodyguard. He could work when injured. He'd been under unbearable amounts of pressure uncountable times, in situations that would make normal men cower. But here he was, hand clutching Chan's arm, eyes glistening like a little boy.
Chan's lips pursed tightly before his features softened. "It's only going to be for a minute." He leaned over. "Let me check your head before I leave."
The light on Chan's phone, presumably, flared to life behind Big's eyelids, which closed automatically at the sharp kiss of it. Chan turned his head to the left, silently inspecting.
Big concentrated on Chan's thumb stroking the inside of his knee. Back and forth. A subconscious movement. An afterthought. Big matched his breath to it, a sense of serenity returning to his body.
"Big?"
The light snapped off.
Big raised his head, eyes catching on the line of Chan's jaw, up to his lips, meeting his eyes. The fresh smell of damp grass and the spiciness of Chan's cologne mixed in front of him, softening the rough edges of the lingering pain. He nodded. "I'll be fine."
The corners of Chan's mouth turned up imperceptibly. "I know you will."
**
Big was not glad he was alone, but at least Chan didn't have to see Big cradling his jacket in his arms like a life preserver.
It was as comforting as it was embarrassing. Almost like Chan hadn't left yet. But it made things easier. Big closed his eyes and imagined Chan was still rummaging in the depths of the cave, assembling the dried-out plastic pieces of the phone, scraping together what he could to cover the deep cut on his leg.
Big rubbed his eyes, the sting of sleep threatening him yet again. A surge of panic swelled. Chan said to stay awake. He had to stay alert. He wasn't even sure how long Chan had been gone for.
The damp air, saturated by the rain, had thinned since the last time Big paid attention. Sweat stuck to his skin, coating his arms and chest, soaking Chan's jacket.
The rev of an engine invaded Big's scattered thoughts. It crept between his shoulder blades, implanted a squeal between his ears, the sound of tires on wet asphalt. Chan's yell sounded as fresh as the moment it happened, fresh as the blood that saturated Big's shirt, rolling down the curve of his head and matting in his hair where his head hit the car window.
Another yell accompanied it.
Big was certain the yell was Kinn's.
Big wondered what came after this, after Chan got back, watching him hyperventilate, sweating bullets, worried and aching and tired.
Luckily, Chan returned quickly. The echo of his shoes spurred Big to sit up straighter. "Are we in trouble?" was hidden behind Big's lips, but he managed to keep it there. Instead, he asked, "Is everything good?"
"Kinn is okay. He was close to the road. Ken and Arm were right behind us and got there fast." Chan's muscles finally gave out on him, and he fell heavily on the ground. "I don't think we can move you, though. We're going to get picked up."
Big sighed heavily, head darting to the side to hide his disappointment. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration. He hated feeling useless, and hearing it spoken so plainly like that into the air, we can't move you morphing into you're the reason we're stuck in here in his head.
"Hey." Chan briefly grazed the back of Big's neck before hesitating, bringing his hand back.
The feeling didn't leave. It rooted onto his skin like the burn from a flame, like one of the cuts and scrapes from escaping through the trees earlier.
He averted his gaze down to Chan's wrapped leg. "How are you doing?"
"The bullet grazed me. Pretty deep. But I didn't lose too much blood. It's been easy to keep it clean." Chan's voice turned soft as his breath slowed. In this true, unguarded moment, the years of steely training fell away from Chan's body, eroding in front of him. They settled into an amicable silence as they waited.
A flicker of curiosity arose in Big. "You know, you could get help and bring them back here, if you wanted. It would make things go faster."
Chan cast him a dubious look.
Big shrugged before Chan could open his mouth to say anything. "I'm the reason we're stuck here. You could find help easily if it wasn't for me."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," Chan said, but a smile graced his face, natural and bright. It made him look young in a way that Big rarely ever saw, something that reminded him that Chan was more than just someone who he answered to, someone more than a constant solid presence in his life.
He was beautiful, really.
Big swallowed hard. His heart was hammering in his ribcage, suddenly hyper-aware of the press of Chan's arm against his. Big admonished himself in his head. He was acting silly. The heat was beginning to get to him.
Head light and floaty, Big asked in a teasing voice, "Can I see it? It looks like it's hurting you."
At Chan's inquisitive look, Big shrugged. ""What else are we going to do? We have to keep me awake, right?"
"You're lucky you're concussed," Chan said with a laugh under his breath.
The light flickered against the cave walls. They became an almost metallic purple under the weight of the sunset, tinged with gold from the scattered rays dipping in.
I saw you that day, Big wanted to say. Maybe to fill the sudden silence. Maybe because he'd been thinking about it since relaying the story of his first kiss, turning over the details in his mind.
Maybe Chan had a different recollection of that day. Maybe he noticed Big's clenched fists, tight jaw, heard the thumping of his chest from the position where he was posted, supposedly watching over Kinn.
But Big knew. Every second of that experience was etched into his brain. The way the sun bullied its way through the clouds. The dull roar of the party in the distance.
Chan watching over Kinn. Watching over them.
Chan looking directly into his eyes.
"Please? Let me look at it."
Seconds of silence pass between them. With a shake of the head, Chan extended his leg forward, loosening the knot of the handkerchief around it.
Big's eyes grew wide, nearly flinching away. It was a good thing they would be getting back to a doctor soon; Chan needed one just as much as Big did. It blared unbearably red in the shimmering cave light.
"What's your diagnosis?" Chan's voice was low and husky right by Big's ear. Sweat dripped from his brow, rolling down his strong jaw, throat bobbing as he swallowed around—
Big couldn't tell if it was pain, or if it was something else.
Big folded the fabric a different way, making sure the surface of it was dry before tying it back.
"I think you'll live," Big said with a smile once he met Chan's eyes.
There was no mistaking it now. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe the exhaustion. Maybe both. Maybe neither.
Maybe. They both just wanted to do it.
Big leaned forward first, chin against Chan's shoulder, forehead nuzzling up the side of Chan's cheek. Chan unfolded his arm from his side, letting Big settle there, matching his movements as Big inched his way up.
Big sighed, surging open-mouthed into a kiss that was returned with equal passion, one that kicked all sense of logic out of his head and pain out of his body. And once his hands started roaming over the solid muscle of Chan’s chest, over his shoulders, feeling every firm inch, it was completely over. He found himself on his knees before he could even blink once—fingers pressing insistently against Chan's shoulders in an attempt to pull him in close.
With no expectations, negative expectations even, Big could have cried with joy when Chan encouraged him over, helping Big straddle his lap. Chan gently fanned his fingers just underneath where Big hit his head, petting the knob of his spine.
"Be careful," he breathed against Big's lips, kissing him feather-light. Chan held him back gently, arm against his chest when Big tried to get too close. But he let Big kiss him as much as he wanted, which was good, because Big didn't know if he'd ever be able to make himself stop.
Darting his tongue out to flick against Chan's lower lip, Big tried not to grind his hips down when Chan couldn't help but let a small gasp escape. The sound set Big on fire, the flames threatening to light him up and consume him whole, but he managed to hold back, his own head beginning to throb and impede him.
Finally, Big drew back with a staggered breath. His vision became spotty and black, and he screwed his face up in pain, sitting back on Chan's thighs.
"I told you to be careful," Chan said in a worried voice, cupping the back of his head, laying him down with his head on the jacket on the rock. His lips were shiny with Big's saliva, plump and bright red.
”I'm sorry." Big swallowed. "I've wanted to do that for..."
"Don't get worked up again." Big's eyes shut, focusing on the circular motion of Chan's palm on his back, rubbing slow and comforting. "You can rest, now."
Big heard other voices. Shuffling. But Chan kept their bodies close together until the world was lost to him, until he finally succumbed to the pull of sleep.
**
Big kissed Ken on a dare, once.
He had been expecting it to lead somewhere. He should have known better. Still, Ken had been smiling as he pushed Big away. Big's skin crawled in embarrassment as he was denied, but took it as the joke it was, even as his heart sank.
At one memorable function of the main family's, Big had to use the restroom. He motioned to Ken to take over the watch of Kinn, and strode into the hallway leading there, when he was intercepted.
His hands flew up to defend himself, but he wasn't pinned to the wall by malefactors.
It was Time, blurry-eyed as he pressed his lips against Big's.
Big stood there, hands hovering over Time's sides, blinking in shock when Time pulled back and refocused his gaze.
"Oh. Shit. You're not Tay." He fired off a flirty smile all the same, flicking a stray piece of hair that had fallen into Big's eyes. "Still pretty, though."
"I have to go," Big blurted out, shoving Time away like he was an active grenade, running to regulate his breathing in a bathroom stall. He never told Kinn about it.
There was the night he had spent with one person at a night club, years after his first kiss with Kinn, someone broad-shouldered with fierce eyes and an appreciation for the way Big looked with come streaked on his face.
All of them filled him with panic. Only Chan was able to calm him down.
**
The rhythmic beep of machines greeted Big as his eyes fluttered open. They were not in the main family's hospital—this one was much smaller. Strips of bright light lined the ceiling. The dark walls surrounding him were covered in wallpaper instead of damp, jagged rock. He was settled in a pile of soft sheets instead of bumpy ground and Chan's jacket.
Pain was nowhere to be found in any part of his body, whatever medicine they had given him flowing through his blood, making his brain fuzzy. Big would take it, though.
A more concentrated light, brighter than the rest, sat at the top of the door in front of the room. A water feature trickled a stream of water in the corner. In any other instance, it would be remarkably calming.
But the layout looked too familiar to him. As if he'd never left the cave. Big's gut clenched.
How much of that ordeal even happened?
His head dropped to the side, eyes fixed at the chair against the wall next to his bed.
Chan's head rested on the wall, arms crossed over his chest, snoring into them, into the fresh suit he was wearing. His leg was covered by his pants, but through Big's bleary vision he could see the little scratches that adorned Chan's face. Big smiled at the bit of dirt above his collarbone that he’d missed while washing up.
Big cleared his throat, and the sound knocked Chan out of sleep.
"How are you feeling?"
"You're watching me?"
They spoke at the same time, and just stared at each other. Finally, Big laughed, the effort straining his lungs, before he spoke up again, motioning to Chan's leg. "Did you just get finished up?"
Chan got up, scooting his chair closer to the bed. "I've been here a while." At Big's glance, Chan gave him a look that said don't think too much about it.
So he didn’t. He didn’t think about the fact that Chan was sleeping at Big's bedside instead of at Korn's deciphering what had happened. He didn't think about Chan's hand lingering at the edge of the bed, or how badly he wanted to extend his own to hold it.
"Do we know what happened now?" Big's fingertips twitched on the hospital bed sheets.
Chan nodded, keeping his hand there as he sat back. "The secondary route we took? It was a false report. Nail strip on the road. We overturned because of the wet roads. I didn't expect it. That's how you hit your head."
Big's teeth roamed over his bottom lip instinctively, thinking about the moments before their rescue.
Big inched his hand closer to the edge of the bed. Creeping like a bug. "And after that?" He heard his voice become small, and he hated every second of it. Fuck it; if anything, he could later blame the head injury and all the drugs. "Was that all real?"
"What, this?"
Chan bridged the gap between their fingers.
Their lips pressed together, and Big fell away. Without any pain to distract him, he could lift his shoulders and bring Chan closer to him, their chests hot against the other, their breaths matched, dizziness overtaking him that had nothing to do with the medicine.
Big's head was spinning as Chan pulled away and sat back down. This time, their hands were clasped tightly.
"Yeah," he said. "That was real."