Archive of Our Own

menaces to society inc.

yellow: jeno

what

yellow: fresh air check

yellow: how many days

…

ummm

when i last went to work

thursday?

nyang: ok so five days

yeah

what about you guys?

nyang: three days, saw my parents at the weekend

yellow: four days for me, you lose jeno! time to go outside❤️

i did not sign up to this being a competition

yellow: no, you signed up to it so we could look out for each other 😊

you know, you guys are both fives

as a six, i think i should get a 2 day advantage

nyang: nope

nyang: you need fresh air just the same

🙄🙄🙄

i’ve got another shift tonight

i’ll take the long route and get a walk in first

yellow: good!

yellow: i hope your shift goes okay

me too. thanks for checking in jun

yellow: it’s okay!

yellow: i mostly needed to prove to my cousin i could be worse

yellow: i knew you would be worse so

😒😒😒

nyang: points deducted for renjun

nyang: walk for you too!

😍😍😍

jaemin is my only friend now

yellow: you both are suddenly forgetting this whole conversation ✨✨✨

on the phone to DART right now

yellow: YEEP 🙀🙀🙀

-

It used to take him days to work up to going outside.

When he was first released from the DART centre, nineteen years old and anxious to his core, he didn’t leave his tiny, dingy apartment for four consecutive weeks. Partially because he was afraid DART might come by and pick him up again if he stepped foot outside. Mostly because he hadn’t been given so much freedom before in his life, and he didn’t know what to do with it all.

Then he passed out from lack of food after staying awake for two days straight, and woke up feeling like his skull was going to cave in. Upon the realisation that getting sick would actually be his one-way ticket back to DART care, he learned to eat his meals, get in a decent amount of sleep, and occasionally, leave his apartment to get some fresh air.

Knowing that he needs to do it doesn’t make it easier, though. For over a year, taking a step outside his door would send him into warm sweats, head light, chest hammering, breath short. It took a long time to build up the confidence to do it regularly, and some trial and error to realise that going out in the middle of the night, as close to four AM as possible, was his best bet of getting an uneventful and uninterrupted trip.

Now, he’s twenty-three, and it takes him barely an hour to psych himself up to stepping outside his door. But it’s no less dangerous.

He clips on his DART monitors methodically, carefully. The thin silver bands glow a ring of green when they clip on—one around each wrist, each ankle, and the one around his neck. They chirp happily when all five are synced up, and Jeno pulls on his cycling gloves, raises his hood, and picks up his bag.

It’s nearly 11pm, and it’s time to go to work.

He opens his front door, looking out the corridor. No one there. He takes a breath, and steps out, turning around to lock the door after him. Then he makes his way down the corridor, quick at first, slow when he comes to the turn.

The elevator doors open at the end of the corridor, and a boy steps out, looking at the parcel in his hand.

Jeno recognises him. It’s his neighbour—his overly nice neighbour, who will often say hi to him when they pass in the corridor. Lee Donghyuck, according to the name on his pigeon hole, but they’ve never actually been introduced.

He’s long suspected he might be the one bringing up his packages and leaving them outside the door, but this confirms it.

“Oh, hey,” he says, like Jeno is an old friend.

This throws Jeno off more than anything. Most people see the green bands and run the other way, but Donghyuck has always acted like they’re not there. He keeps his distance, like he’s supposed to, so he knows what they are. But he’s crazy enough to be friendly to an obvious Six like him.

Jeno doesn’t say anything in response. He’s not very good to speaking to people when it’s not over the internet.

“This is yours,” he says, raising it. “I’ll leave it outside your door, if you’re headed out. I think Coupang has fucked up my order again, because no matter how much I check the parcel bay, I never have anything. Thought I might as well make myself useful while I’m there.”

Jeno just nods, not really sure what he would say even if he had the confidence to. “Thanks,” he manages, staying up against the wall so Donghyuck has plenty of room to get around him without setting off his monitors.

Donghyuck smiles at him at that, showing white teeth. “He speaks! I was wondering if you were one of those Sixes who can level a city with a cough. Nice to know. Maybe we could have a real conversation next time?”

Jeno ducks his head, palms sweating. He doesn’t know what to make of this guy.

Donghyuck winks at him, and passes by with a wide berth. Jeno’s monitors remain green. “I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other, one way or another.”

He enters the empty elevator, pressing for the bottom floor. He’s not too sure about that, but if this guy is a DA fetishist or something, he won’t say a thing. It’s not so bad to have these scraps of human interaction every once in a while.

Outside, the streets are quiet. People roam them, but he lives in an area that doesn’t have clubs or shops, so the people out at night are usually just going home. He only passes by a few when he leaves his apartment building, and they all stare and whisper as he passes. He walks out into the road to get around them.

Once he gets off his street and into the winding roads that lead to the warehouse, he doesn’t see anyone. And that’s just how he likes it.

It’s nice to breathe in fresh air again. The cool night air on his face is soothing, even with his hood up over his ears.

When he was young—before DART—he’d never been allowed out at night. He’d see it from his window, or he’d see it when they went out for special evenings. The theatre for his mom’s birthday, or the cinema after his dad got home from work early, or when they all sat through three hours of Yeeun’s dance shows just to see three minutes of her dancing.

But he rarely spent time out at night. He would take those small windows, the minute of existing in the night from the venue to the car, to drink in the sight of stars, to smile at that cool air feeling that only descends at night. To enjoy the way the night kisses you gently.

Even before he’d become nocturnal to keep others safe, he’d loved the night. Now, it’s pretty much the only thing that comforts him, other than his only two friends in the world. He’s lost just about everything else, but at least he can see the stars.

Buildings stand quiet, inhabitants either asleep or getting ready to sleep. Corner stores are just about the only things open around here—not that he can go inside them. Too small. His monitors would be set off by the cashier alone.

The walk he goes on is the long route, as promised. It takes him by a bar, where a few groups of friends sit drinking. He glazes over the sight of it, not wanting to see how many eyes follow the green glow of his bands as he passes. He follows the street around to a slope, which crests at the placement of a high school.

He stops there, just for a moment. Through one of the large windows, he can see a huge poster. It’s like looking in a mirror—a figure wearing five green bands stands there. It brings back a memory he didn’t know he had—like seeing an old candy you used to eat, or finding a buried textbook you worked from, scribbled in from cover to cover. He’d forgotten schools had those posters up, warning teens about DA classes.

Next to it, he can see the familiar sight of the Ability Pyramid. They had those up all over the school, and all over the DART centre, like they were worried the residents would forget they were dangerous freaks otherwise.

From bottom to top, it reads:

KNOW THE SIGNS - REPORT DANGEROUS ABILITY CLASSES FOR YOUR SAFETY AND THEIRS

CALL THE DANGEROUS ABILITY RESPONSE TEAM (DART) ON 02-548-1677

SAFE ABILITY CLASSES:

One – A useless ability, eg. producing smoke from nostrils.

Two – A useful but harmless ability, eg. floating small objects

MID ABILITY CLASSES:

Three – A skilled ability that has the potential for harm, eg. perfect vocal imitation of others

Four – A powerful ability with the potential for harm, eg. enhanced strength

DANGEROUS ABILITY CLASSES

Five – A controllable danger to society, eg. mind control

Six – An uncontrollable danger to society, eg. spontaneous combustion

The poster is too far away to make out the smaller notes, but he knows what they say. Statistics, facts, famous examples from each class.

Ones, Twos and Threes make up 80% of the population. Fours make up another 10%. Fives make up about 7%.

Sixes barely exist in society. He’s only ever met another Six in the DART centre, and only briefly. He’s not supposed to be friends with them. Most are in prison, or live in isolation, with abilities that leave them unable to leave the house, or see anyone, or sometimes speak to or look at another person. Much less have jobs. People like him don’t often get to see the stars.

He has it pretty easy, for a Six.

Maybe that means it’s just a matter of time before all this is taken away from him. He has no idea what he’s going to do once he graduates, and will need a real, full-time job. He can’t stack shelves forever.

Those worries are for a later time, though.

He clocks in at the warehouse, all the lights on, standing wide and almost empty and somehow colder than the outside. A note is left by the owner, letting him know what tasks he has to do for the night.

The Five that also works on shift with him has already arrived, working two aisles over from him. He’s got no idea what her ability is, but she smiles and waves at him when they catch each other’s eye through the aisles, so he feels a little at ease around her. She doesn’t have the collar and ankle monitors, just two green bands around her wrists.

The cameras that sit watching them are poised at the end of every aisle, but that’s okay. He’d much rather them than having people around. He can’t hurt a camera.

He sets about on his first boxes of the night, heaving them up and over his head, sliding them into place neatly.

-

The sun is beginning to rise by the time he clocks out, kissing the sky pink. He grabs his bag and leaves at 5am sharp, not wanting to meet too many early risers in the streets, if he can help it. He’ll probably get in a nap when he gets home, then do some work on his next assignment.

His bands aren’t so obvious in the light. He gets more stares in the dark, when he can be seen coming a mile away, but it kind of makes him more nervous when people don’t do a double take looking at him. If they can’t miss his monitors, they can’t miss the fact that they need to stay away.

He makes it back to his apartment building with haste, where thankfully, no one is around. His package waits outside the door for him, as Donghyuck had promised.

Slipping inside his apartment, he unclips his monitors and strips himself of the gloves. He’s pretty sure these are the lightbulbs he ordered—his bulb in the kitchen blew the other day, and as someone who lives out most of his days from the hours of 5pm to 9am, lights are kind of an essential.

He strips down barefoot and drags over a cabinet to stand on. He doesn’t have a kitchen table in the apartment, nor any stools that will be good for this, so this will have to do. He tests it’s stable before climbing up, lightbulb in hand, and carefully screws it into place. When it’s in, he leans back a little to look at it.

It looks a little… wonky. He’s not the best at these kinds of things. He unscrews it and rescrews it, and when he looks at it this time, it looks right.

He turns to leap off the cabinet and try out the switch. Only his foot catches the ridge of the cabinet he’d forgotten was there, and he doesn’t make it as far as stepping down.

His body twists sideways, and he fails to regain his balance. He crashes headfirst into his kitchen counter, then full-body slams into his kitchen floor.

Presumably, at least, because he certainly feels as though he’s on his kitchen floor. In reality, it’s hard to see straight when hot pain strikes his shoulder, his vision blinded by the aching pulse of his hit to the head. He lies still, but it feels as though his brain is spinning, eyes screwed tight to try and regain his bearings.

He groans, a choked sound as he struggles to squint up at the ceiling. Panic is dull, at first, as pain overrides everything. Then it settles in as his breathing quickens, realising his predicament.

If he’s seriously hurt himself, he’s not allowed to ask anyone for help apart from DART.

He’d rather lay here and die than call them.

Maybe it won’t be so bad once he gets over the pain. It’s not like he can move to call for anyone right away—surely if he waits long enough, he’ll get over the nauseating agony in his shoulder, right? How bad can it be?

Stupid, stupid thing to do. He should’ve pulled over something sturdier. He should’ve just invested in a standing lamp. He can’t go back into DART care over this—he won’t.

He tries to move his uninjured arm, just to see if he can get his phone out and call Jaemin and Renjun. Talking to them might help. One of them would probably know what to do.

But pain strikes him as he tries to shift, makes him gasp, and he resolves to lie on the floor a little longer, face screwed up, room dim.

A door chimes—the sound is close enough that it must be Donghyuck leaving, or his other neighbour opposite. His light is switched on, and he thinks, oh, it works.

Wait—his light is switched on?

He goes to raise his head, panic closer to the surface now. Is someone in his flat? All the movement causes black spots to dance in his vision and blood to rush in his ears, so it’s hard to say. Did DART find him already? How did they get here so quickly?

The ground beneath him… rumbles? No, quakes slightly—he blinks a few times, and realises he can hear Donghyuck’s voice. He’s slamming his hand into Jeno’s kitchen tiles to try and rouse him.

“Jeno-ssi, don’t fall asleep! Can you hear me?”

The scariest part about all this—other than how Donghyuck got into his apartment, how he knew Jeno needed help, how close he must be for Jeno to feel him slamming the floor—is that he doesn’t have his monitors on. He doesn’t wear them at home—it’s supposed to be safe—Donghyuck doesn’t know—

“Don’t touch me,” he manages, breathing quick, trying to get his good arm under him to push himself up. Doing so causes everything to go a sideways, and he feels on the verge of throwing up.

“I’m not going to,” Donghyuck says, sounding underwater. “Look, I’m keeping my distance. But you need to stay awake, and don’t move too much. I’ve called for help, but until—”

“Did you—” He fights the urge to heave. “Call DART?”

“What? No. Why would I do that?”

Because you’re supposed to, he doesn’t say. “Hospital?”

“No. I’m not here to try and get you into trouble, Jeno. I’ve called someone who will actually help you.”

Who? Who could possibly help him? He doesn’t get to ask, because his head suddenly feels very heavy, and he drops it until it touches the cool tiles. He’s braced wholly on his good arm, and it’s shaking with the effort of keeping him semi-upright, angled so he can throw himself away if Donghyuck comes closer.

“Relax, Jeno, I swear I just want to help you. I’m not going to come closer. You’ve had a nasty fall.”

He blinks a few times until his vision clears. He can finally see Donghyuck, sat on his knees a good six feet away from him.

“How did you know?” he frowns.

“I’ve got precognition. I saw it happen in my dream last night. Sorry I didn’t wake up in time to warn you—I think the sound of your fall was what woke me up, actually.”

He releases a long exhale. “Why did you come to help?”

The question seems to surprise Donghyuck. “Because you’re hurt?”

Not a good enough reason to put your life at risk. “But… why?” he says, struggling to articulate himself.

Donghyuck just shakes his head. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” he says, and Jeno feels another rolling strike of foreboding.

Who exactly has he called?

He screws his eyes shut and tries to tamper down his breathing. He’s mastered the art of compartmentalising, and for now, he wants to retreat into one of those compartments, close the door, and pretend more people aren’t arriving at his apartment at any—

“Donghyuck?” a new voice says. His vision is too blurry to make them out.

“Don’t touch me,” he says again, to whoever it is who has walked into his apartment. Two people, if he’s seeing right. “Don’t—”

“He hit his head?” a second new voice says, sharp and concerned. “His speech is slurred.”

“Yeah, hard,” Donghyuck says. “He’s been really out of it since I got here.”

“Don’t touch me,” he says again.

“Jeno-ssi,” Donghyuck says, patiently. “This is my brother, Doyoung, and our friend, Kun. Kun is a doctor—”

“Can’t touch me,” he says again, heart seizing up. He hasn’t been in a room with this many unfamiliar people in years, and he doesn’t know how to act. It doesn’t help he can’t tell which way is up or down. It also doesn’t help that he doesn’t have his monitors on, and his vision is still lopsided, so he can’t tell if they’re too close—if they’re close enough to touch him. If their lives are at risk for trying to help him.

“I’ve got that, Jeno, I’m not going to touch you,” Kun’s voice says. He sounds like the doctor, at least—confident, reassuring.

“Jeno-ssi,” Donghyuck says again, and he sounds a little more nervous this time. “I called them because between them, they can help you. Doyoung’s ability allows him to touch people like you.”

“No, no, no,” he says, trying to shuffle backwards away from the figures in front of him, and the movement makes him gasp in pain as he jostles his injured shoulder.

“Hey, hey,” Doyoung’s voice says, and it’s soft, and concerned. “Please let me help you, Jeno. I promise, you’re not going to hurt me.”

“It looks like his shoulder is dislocated,” Kun is saying. “You’re going to have to pop it back in, Doyoung.”

“Please don’t touch me, please don’t,” he gasps, unable to catch his breath as he backs up against his counter, left shoulder throbbing. He’s dizzy, and feels moments away from throwing up.

“I’m not going to touch you unless you let me. I just want to help.”

He blinks away tears enough to see that the three of them are stood still in his apartment, not advancing on him. Donghyuck is kneeling on the floor, Kun by the door, and Doyoung a little closer, but still two steps away. About as far away as they can get in his tiny apartment.

He takes in some breaths, using the technique they’d taught him in therapy to try and calm himself, bring back control of the situation. He’s responsible for his actions, they had taught him—and if he’s panicked, he needs to take control of that panic, to avoid hurting anyone by accident.

Drawing in breath is hard, though. Every effort sends an ache through his head that makes him screw up his eyes.

“Where did you come from?” he asks.

“We live not far away,” Doyoung says. “Kun’s my flatmate. We came to help you.”

Now that he can focus enough to see them, see they aren’t moving, he’s able to form a better response. “Thank you, but you can’t help me. You have to go.”

“We can’t leave you like this,” Kun says gently. “You’ve dislocated your shoulder.”

“I—I—” he swallows when he realises what that means. There’s no way he can fix this on his own—and it’s a certain prison sentence if he lets anyone but DART try to help him. “I have to call DART.”

“You didn’t want to do that a minute ago,” Donghyuck reminds him. “Listen, Jeno—when we were teenagers, there was this kid in our building who manifested a class Four ability. He had the ability to make you see something that wasn’t there. Scary, right? But as a teenage boy, he thought it was hilarious. He used to do it to me all the time if he caught me leaving or entering the building. I’d see men with guns, or I’d see rabid dogs, or I’d see a truck come off the road and race into me. It was never actually happening, but it scared the shit out of me all the same.

“You know what he made Doyoung see, Jeno? You know what happened to him whenever this kid caught him coming and going?”

Jeno opens his mouth, then closes it again. His head feels heavy.

“Nothing. When he tried to make us both see a tornado outside, Doyoung-hyung just walked right into it, no problem. His ability never worked on Doyoung-hyung. And because Doyoung-hyung couldn’t see it, I knew it wasn’t real.”

Jeno stills.

“Doyoung is immune to the abilities of others. I’ve grown up with him since I was ten years old, and I’ve never seen an exception. Telepaths, healers, even people like me—I’ve never seen Hyung’s future. I can’t. His ability won’t let me.”

“I can help you, Jeno,” Doyoung says, softly.

Jeno focuses properly on his face for the first time. Doyoung is… pretty. He also, apparently, is here to help Jeno.

“Are you from DART?” he breathes. DART hire people like Doyoung to be first responders. That’s common knowledge. People who can transfer powers, or nullify them, or cover you in a protective sheen and move you around. They’re the only people who can handle Fives and Sixes like him.

“No, I’ve got nothing to do with DART. I’m a high school teacher. I just want to help you, if I can. Will you let me?”

Jeno is concussed, and in pain, and confused and curious and a little desperate.

None of that is good enough reason for him to say yes. But he just can’t help himself.

“Yes.”

-

“Let’s fix that arm first,” Kun says, crouching down and watching them across the room. “Help him take his hoodie off very slowly, Doyoung.”

Doyoung looks at Jeno one more time before coming closer, kneeling in front of him. It’s the closest Jeno has been to another person in a long, long time.

“Can you pull your good arm inside?”

He does as asked, Doyoung holding his sleeve while Jeno pulls his good arm inside the hoodie. His heart pounds at the feel of hands touching him over his clothes. This all feels very wrong—he’s a Six, for God’s sake, he shouldn’t allow someone like Doyoung to get this close.

But… he can barely remember a time when others weren’t afraid of him. And Doyoung looks confident, determined. He knows Jeno is dangerous, and he isn’t afraid of him.

He can’t bear to push that away.

Doyoung takes the bottom of his hoodie and pulls it up, over his good shoulder, bunching it up around his neck so he can slip it off and gently away from his dislocated shoulder. It brushes his injury, and it makes him whimper a little.

Once the hoodie is off, it’s obvious how much he’s shaking. He’s certain it’s not because of the injury.

“It’s okay,” Doyoung says, soothingly, quietly. “We’ll fix you up. Kun?”

“You’re going to have to pop his shoulder back in. Here.”

Jeno tears his eyes away from Doyoung to look at him. He has a bag with medical kit with him, and he pulls out a tube of something, sliding it across the floor towards Doyoung.

“What do I do with this?”

“It’s local anaesthetic. Take these gloves, and apply some around the wound, so he doesn’t pass out when you pop it back in.”

Doyoung pulls on the surgical gloves handed to him, and Jeno shivers, repressing a noise of pain when his shoulder rings with pain. He chooses to watch as Doyoung’s hands picks up the tube of ointment, rather than looking him in the face.

“Look, Doyoung, apply it here…”

Kun is demonstrating by pointing at the right spot on Donghyuck’s shoulder, but Jeno tunes him out as soon as Doyoung’s cool, gloves fingers touch his shoulder blade. He might pass out before Doyoung touches him properly at all. The feeling of fingertips moving carefully across his skin, even with a barrier of thin latex between them, feels surreal to him. He genuinely can’t remember ever being touched like this—the press causes pain, yes, but the pressure of real human touch hikes his adrenaline up so high he feels dizzy.

“Jeno?” Doyoung is saying, and Jeno realises he’d zoned out, focusing intensely on where Doyoung’s fingers touch his skin. “Stay with us, okay? Does it hurt too much?”

He shakes his head vaguely, then realise it’s the truth. The area is feeling numb and heavy, and as time passes, Doyoung’s touch gets lighter. “It’s okay.”

“Good, okay. Doyoung, watch carefully how I’m holding Donghyuck. This is how you’re going to set his shoulder.”

He must zone out again, because he comes back to when Doyoung takes his hand. The touch feels like an electric current striking him, and he physically jolts, breath speeding up immediately.

“Jeno, it’s okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you. Take a deep breath.”

Doyoung stays holding his hand, and it’s almost too much. Tears prick at his eyes for the first time—he never in his life thought he would hold someone’s hand again.

Doyoung is warm, and gentle, and very much alive. He was right—Jeno can’t hurt him.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts. You alright to continue?”

He nods blindly. He wants to get this over with before he’s sick.

“I’m going to put your hand on my shoulder, okay?”

Without lifting his elbow, his hand goes up to hold Doyoung’s shoulder so that Doyoung can brace himself against Jeno’s dislocation. He doesn’t have much feeling there right now, but he can feel the heat of Doyoung’s body under his t-shirt. He gazes at the sight of his bare hand holding someone else’s shoulder, and memorises it.

If Doyoung is applying pressure on his own shoulder, he can’t feel it. Only when it pops back in with a snap does he realise Doyoung’s hands have been pushing, and a wave of dizziness rocks him again. He blinks a few times, trying to pay attention to what’s going on.

Kun is passing something new across the floor—bandages? He’s still talking, and demonstrating on Donghyuck how to… make a sling.

Oh. Doyoung takes his arm gently, positioning it correctly, and it feels as though the touch sears him.

He stays quiet as Doyoung wraps his arm up securely in a sling around his neck, keeping his shoulder in place. He blinks a few times, tuning into what Doyoung is telling him as he ties it up and moves away, fingers finally leaving him.

“Is that alright?”

“What?”

“I’m going to check your head for where you hit it. Okay?”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and regrets it as soon as Doyoung’s fingers slide into his hair.

His eyes close immediately, trying to cope with how overwhelming that is. It again makes him shiver, like his bones might jump out of his skin to escape the feeling of human touch.

It’s also nicer than anything he’s ever felt.

“Found it,” he says, sounding underwater, like Donghyuck had earlier. “Just a bump. Do you have any ice packs in?”

He realises, woozily, that Doyoung is speaking to him. He feels drunk on the feeling of his hands in Jeno’s hair. His tongue feels heavy.

Someone must fetch the ice pack out of his fridge, because when Doyoung’s fingers are replaced with something wet and cold, it makes him shiver in a different way. He straightens up a little, feeling more sober.

“…stay with him,” Kun’s voice is saying. “He can’t sleep for the next twenty-four hours. In any other circumstances I would insist on a brain scan, but….”

“I’ll look out for him,” Doyoung says, confidently. “Is it alright if I stay with you for a while, Jeno?”

Jeno’s eyes flick around his face. Doyoung has very deep brown eyes, very expressive—they search Jeno’s face with some kind of pleading. Why?

“Yes,” he manages. “Just you.”

“That’s okay,” Doyoung breathes. “Hold that there. These two can go, and we’ll move you to your sofa.”

Jeno takes over the ice pack as Doyoung moves away from him, and releases the breath that was trapped in his lungs. He’s come around enough to hear the whole conversation between Doyoung, Donghyuck and Kun, as Doyoung thanks them for helping, Donghyuck thanks them for coming, and Kun gives them both plenty of instructions on how to take care of Jeno.

Take care of him? Doyoung seems to be just like Donghyuck—despite how dangerous Jeno is, despite the fact that he’s done nothing to earn their kindness, they’re determined to help.

He’s told this guy he can stay for the night, and not twelve hours ago he was wondering if his brother is a DA fetishist. Is this the smartest move, to stay here alone with the only person he’s ever met capable of touching him?

Well. Anything is better than calling DART.

When Doyoung next comes over to him, the apartment is quiet. Donghyuck and Kun have left.

“You ready to move?” Doyoung asks, reaching out to take him by the arm and help him up. His bare arm. Doyoung’s palm is soft, his hand bony but strong.

Jeno stands wordlessly, letting Doyoung lead him to his sofa, in front of his crappy old TV. They sit together, Jeno watching him, Doyoung holding the ice pack to his head for him.

“Thank you for helping me,” he says, trying to unstick the words from his throat.

Doyoung’s hand pats his thigh, and heat spreads from where he’d touched, along with a drop in his chest that comes with riding a rollercoaster. He’s struck with the sudden fear he’s going to get hard next to the guy that has probably just saved his life, because of a few normal, light touches.

“I’m glad Donghyuck found you,” Doyoung says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you’d had to deal on your own.”

“Me neither,” he admits, watching Doyoung’s face intently. He doesn’t get to see people this close, and he has no idea how to maintain eye contact properly. He looks away nervously when Doyoung faces him. “I still don’t understand why you’re helping me so much, though.”

Doyoung removes the hand—Jeno isn’t sure whether he’s grateful or distraught—and splays his pretty hand over his own lap instead. An unconscious move, probably, but Jeno can’t stop looking. “Sorry for invading your space like this. I guess you’re probably not used to it. But you need the help, and if I’m the only one who can help you, so be it.”

“You are,” Jeno says, quietly. “I’ve never met anyone who could touch me before.”

Doyoung gives him a small smile, and reaches out to touch Jeno’s good hand again, turning it over to hold it. Jeno sees stars behind his eyes, and squeezes it weakly. It gives him a rush like nothing he’s ever felt before, like he’s had something euphoric injected straight into his veins. “I’m usually the exception like that. Do you mind me asking what your touch usually does?”

Jeno blinks a few times, mouth parted. He doesn’t want Doyoung to ever let go of his hand, and if that means answering his questions, so be it.

“It kills people.”

Doyoung hums, a downturned sound, like he’s sad. Not surprised, not horrified. Just… sad.

“How are you so okay with this?” he murmurs. “I’ve just told you I’m a killer.”

“No, that’s not what you just told me,” Doyoung says quietly. “Donghyuck and I—we’re step-brothers, technically. Our parents are both Fives. We’ve had plenty of experience with how shitty DART is, and how horrible people can be to DA classes. It’s why that kid Donghyuck talked about always used to bully him.”

“Both Fives,” he says quietly. That’s a very unlikely couple—not only to be safe around each other, safe enough to have children, but that neither have been broken up by a dangerous incident, that they can function without a Safe or Mid Ability class in their relationship. “And you?”

“I’m just a Two,” Doyoung says, with a little laugh. “Donghyuck is a Four, though. We’re both sympathetic to people like you, Jeno. I promise, there’s no ulterior motive here.”

“A Two?” he says, surprised. He can’t comprehend it. To Jeno, Doyoung is the most powerful person he’s ever met.

“Yup.”

They sit there in silence for a moment after that, Jeno staring down at the way Doyoung is gently rubbing his thumb over Jeno’s knuckles. He’s obsessed with the feeling, and doesn’t want him to ever stop.

“Do you want any water? Painkillers?” Doyoung asks. “You really knocked yourself around back there.”

“Um,” he starts, glancing up at Doyoung before looking back at their connected hands. “Yes, but…”

Doyoung follows his line of vision, and a smile blooms onto his face. “You don’t want to let go?”

“Yes…” Jeno trails off, cheeks flushing pink. He’s aware of how pathetic he sounds, but he’s also fully aware this might be the only opportunity he’ll have for human contact in his life. Might as well make the most of it.

“I’ll come right back,” he promises, eyes bright, kind. Jeno curls in on himself, taking hold of the ice pack as Doyoung stands. “Stay there. Where do you keep your painkillers?”

Jeno tells him, watching the sun peek in through partially drawn curtains. Weird, weird day. He usually checks in with Renjun and Jaemin when he arrives back home, and wonders if they’ll be worried about him.

Doyoung returns, and takes over the cold pack again so that Jeno can down the meds and drink some water. He gulps down half in one go, then places it down on the little table, reaching out for Doyoung lamely.

“Oh, you’re cute,” Doyoung says, taking his hand again, and Jeno’s insides turn to mush. The excitement in his chest is all new and fresh, the kind he’s not sure he’s ever felt before. It’s like his insides are set alight, if fire kept you alive rather than burned you up.

“M’not,” Jeno says. “The last time someone touched me, I was fourteen. I forgot it was like this.”

“Is that when your ability manifested?”

He nods, mute.

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-three.”

Doyoung breathes in deeply, squeezing his hand again. “I’m sorry. This is probably overwhelming for you.”

“It was at first.” He wants to nuzzle his head into Doyoung’s wrist and palm. “It’s nice now, though.”

“Good.” He rubs his thumb gently across Jeno’s knuckles, like he was doing before. “As long as I’m helping, not hurting you.”

“You’re not,” he says quickly. “I like it.”

“Then I hope you don’t mind me staying for the next twenty-four hours?”

Jeno blinks a few times. “You’re really going to stay that long?”

“Kun said you couldn’t sleep for that long, because of your concussion. I’d better stay to make sure you don’t sleep tonight, right?”

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

Doyoung’s brow creases, and he shakes his head. “I’m a teacher, remember? It’s the school holidays. Donghyuck said he’ll pick up my laptop, in case we want to work together... I’m guessing you’re a student?”

Jeno nods. “Final year.”

“I hope you’re not left handed?”

“No, I’m not. I study digital design, though. It sure will go slower without my other hand.” His stomach drops with fear for the first time since Doyoung had touched him. “Oh, God, my job.”

“What do you do?”

“I stack shelves, part-time.”

“Yeah, you can’t go back to that anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

His eyelids flutter shut as he tries to smother his panic in front of this pretty boy holding his hand. “Shit. I’m screwed.”

“Can’t you take sick leave?”

Jeno shakes his head. “People like me don’t get that. I don’t have family to support me through school. I’m only able to attend because of DART—they give me money each month to cover rent and stuff. But to qualify, I have to contribute to society—I have to work ten hours a week, minimum, while I’m a student.”

“Your job should still give you sick leave. That’s the law.”

He shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “Employers would never hire Sixes if there weren’t some incentive—we’re too much of a risk. DART pays for 60% of my wage, so my employer gets cheap labour, basically. But it means I don’t get benefits like holidays, or sick days… I’ll be fired when I tell them I can’t work. And when DART hears…”

He realises he’s trembling again, and Doyoung moves his hand further up Jeno’s arm, rubbing it soothingly.

“Hey, hey. We’ll figure something out. I’m sorry, I didn’t know about that. It’s really stupid, by the way. You shouldn’t have to earn your own life any more than anyone else.”

“I’ll be in more trouble when they realise I let you patch me up,” he says, spiralling now. “That’s the first rule of freedom—don’t let anyone near you who’s untrained, don’t put anyone at risk—”

“That’s bullshit, Jeno, we were never at risk. I know what I’m doing, and I put myself in the position to help you. ‘Untrained’, hell—you’re not a nuclear bomb that needs professional handling. You’re just a kid who needed help.”

Jeno shrinks under his gaze, looking away. That much is true, but it doesn’t change his predicament. “Rules are rules,” he says miserably. “I’ve broken so many today.”

“You don’t have to go to DART. We’ll find you somewhere new to work. Look—that’s what we can do now, alright? Let’s do some research.”

Jeno deflates when Doyoung releases his hand to dig out his phone, handing Jeno back the ice pack. Doyoung obviously notices this, because he scoots closer to Jeno on the couch until their thighs are touching. He perks up a little at that, wrapping his ankle around Doyoung’s sheepishly.

When did he go from being overwhelmed, to being so incredibly demanding? Is this good for him, stealing every touch he can now, when it could leave him wanting for this the rest of his life?

He simultaneously doesn’t know what to do with all this attention, and can’t imagine giving it up. He’s known Doyoung an hour, and it feels as though his whole adult life has been leading up to this point.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, and Doyoung smiles at him, endeared.

“No problem. Come on, let’s have a look.”

Jeno holds his breath when he leans into Doyoung’s space, watching over his shoulder as he searches the Six rehabilitation scheme, and the employers that subscribe to it. Jeno can barely pay attention to the screen, fascinated by the warmth of Doyoung’s body pressed against his, the subtle unique smell that comes with being close to another person, right up in their space.

Usually, being around other people only serves to remind him how dangerous he is. He hasn’t had anyone around to help him get out of his clothes or soothe an injury or make him food since he was a teenager. He hasn’t been to the dentist, hasn’t played with a friend or sat side-by-side with someone he loves in nearly ten years. If people are in his space, it’s down to him to leave, avoid them, or take all the measures possible to keep his distance. For the sake of their life.

But with Doyoung, somehow… he feels safe.

Not normal. He’s not sure he can ever be normal.

But safe.

-

menaces to society inc.

hey guys

nyang: And Just Where Have You Been Young Man🧐

yellow: oh my god jeno we’ve been worried!

yellow: did you get home okay?

you’re not going to believe what’s happened to me

nyang: omo?

yellow: are you okay??

ha ha

not really

fell and dislocated my shoulder

yellow: WHAT

and gave myself a concussion

nyang: i’m coming over right now

no i’m okay

that’s what you’re not going to believe

someone… helped me

this guy is at my apartment

he’s immune to other people’s abilities

so he put my shoulder back into place

nyang: …

yellow: oh my god jeno

yellow: i’m so glad you don’t have to get DART involved, but… are you really sure you’re okay?

yellow: that sounds pretty serious

nyang: how did this guy so conveniently find you?

i’m okay

he’s my neighbour’s brother

his roommate is a doctor, he kind of… looked at me from across the room

and gave me the okay

i just have to wear this sling for six weeks so

trying to figure out what im going to do about work now

but health wise i’m okay, doyoung is staying with me overnight so i don’t fall asleep

yellow: doyoung the immune guy?

yeah

he’s really nice

nyang: 👀

hey

all i said is that he’s really nice!

nyang: yeah and he’s the only person in the world who can touch you

nyang: what’s the harm in inviting him to say… your bedroom?

yellow: he’s literally concussed

i also don’t have a bedroom

i sleep on the living room floor

you know what i’m so glad he isn’t reading over my shoulder rn

he’s making us food

i’m NOT propositioning the guy who basically just saved my life

nyang: ok but at least get his number for when you’re not concussed

nyang: or in his debt

nyang: actually maybe this is how you get out of his debt 👀

yellow: JAEMIN

nyang: yeah i know, he’s concussed

nyang: but do you know how many people would kill to sleep with someone like jeno

i think you mean die to sleep with me

ha ha

well doyoung wouldn’t die

it’s been so weird to have him touch me

even just to pop my shoulder back in…

like, having him touch me was more overwhelming than the dislocation

i haven’t had human contact since i was a kid

but doyoung touched me like it was nothing

it’s been a lot

nyang: has he been touching you without your consent?

nyang: if yes, disregard everything i said and Kill Him

no no

it’s not like that

it’s been nice

he’s been holding my hand to calm me down

i forgot how calming it was to do small things like that

i kind of can’t stop reaching out for him when he’s sat next to me

but it scares me too

what if i never see him again after this?

i think i’ll never be able to stop thinking about it

i like it so much, but it’s the one thing i can’t have

with anyone but him

nyang: :((

yellow: i’m sorry jeno

yellow: you deserve so much better than this

yellow: be careful okay? don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want

yellow: but at the same time, don’t deny yourself things you do want

yellow: he sounds nice, and i’m really glad he came to help you

yellow: but he holds inherent power over you, and i’d hate to see you hurt

nyang: what renjun said

nyang: text me SOS if you need help, the subway to yours is only twenty minutes

thanks, guys

he’s calling me to go and eat

i’ll check in with you later

yellow: stay safe, jeno

nyang: especially if you do the deed

yellow: jaemin.

❤️

-

Doyoung does well. He stays awake until late into the night, through the whole time the two of them work on their respective tasks, through their second meal of the day, chatting and eating stir fry. He listens to Jeno talk about his favourite game and the assignment he’s been doing, and Jeno listens to him talk about the classes he’d been planning, and the resources he’s been making. They put on a movie when the hour gets late, and only then does Doyoung fall asleep, their hands linked together, Jeno much more focused on the touch than on whatever the hell the plot is.

He would text his friends to keep him company, but he’s only got one hand in commission, and he really, really doesn’t want to let go of Doyoung’s hand. Or move him to wake him up. When Doyoung slips down from the back of the couch a little bit, Jeno shifts to the side to catch him, his head resting against Jeno’s good shoulder.

Jeno is entranced. Is this what it’s like? To sit with someone you like, to be close to them? Is it normal to have these heady surges of emotion, the nerves mixed with giddy excitement mixed with fear—or is that just him?

Has he foregone human touch so long he doesn’t know how to handle it anymore? Is this years of pent up isolation and loneliness making him go crazy over a kind stranger? Or is it normal to feel this drawn to an attractive man that shows you attention?

Maybe it’s both. Jeno wouldn’t know, and neither would his friends, probably. All he can do is let himself experience it. The excitement is enough to keep him awake the whole night, reaching a good thirty-eight hours without sleep.

The sun beginning to rise is what rouses Doyoung from his sleep. He comes to with a deep breath, realising where he’s lying. Jeno hadn’t moved the whole night, not wanting to rouse him.

“I fell asleep,” he murmurs, blinking slowly, hair tousled and eyes tired. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“It’s okay,” he says, honest. Doyoung’s slow breathing and warm pressure made him feel a little more human than he does most nights. Or days. Or ever. He wouldn’t have woken him for anything. “I didn’t mind. Didn’t fall asleep, either.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. I’m feeling sleepier now. My normal routine keeps me up all night, so this is my bed time.”

Doyoung looks out to where dawn breaks through the curtains. “Huh, we did it. Twenty-four hours. How does your head feel now?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m just tired.”

“That’s good,” Doyoung says, running a hand through Jeno’s hair to find the bump. It certainly feels smaller and less tender than before. “I think you’ll be okay. You have to call me if your shoulder starts hurting, okay? Take painkillers, and try not to sleep on it.”

Jeno realises he’s closed his eyes, tilting his head into Doyoung’s touch. He blinks his eyes open, cheeks warming. “You really think I’ll be okay?”

“You will,” Doyoung says, confidently. Jeno believes him. “I should leave you to get some sleep, I think. But I’ll be back as soon as I’ve found a solution for your work. I have something in mind, I just need to see if I can pull it off.”

His pulse jumps. “You’re coming back?”

“Of course,” Doyoung says, surprised by the question. “Do you think I would just leave you on your own after all this? If you’ll let me, I’ll come by every few days to check on you and your sling. If you need anything, Donghyuck or I can get it for you, okay? Here, actually, give me your phone and I’ll put our numbers in. Donghyuck plays all the same games you do, I bet he’d like to play with you.”

Jeno hands his phone to Doyoung, dazed, and watches as he creates two new contacts. Donghyuck, and Doyoung-hyung.

“You and Donghyuck are the same age,” he explains, placing it back in Jeno’s hand. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Jeno shakes his head dumbly, and follows after Doyoung when he heads for the door, rattling off instructions on how to take his sling off carefully to get dressed, and what sort of things he should cook, and the exercises he could do when the swelling goes down, according to Kun.

Then they’re at the door, Doyoung with his shoes on and belongings packed up.

“Thank you again,” Jeno says, because he doesn’t know how to convey to Doyoung the enormity of what he’s given him. And it’s not even over—he’s coming back.

“It’s my pleasure, Jeno,” Doyoung says, cupping his face briefly, running his thumb down the side of his cheek. Jeno aches, a pit in his stomach opening into a chasm. “Get some sleep now. I’ll call you later to make sure you’re okay. If you don’t pick up, I’m coming back over, so you’d better look after yourself.”

“Maybe I just won’t pick up,” Jeno says, then holds his breath.

A smile spreads on Doyoung’s face. “If you’re capable of picking up, you will pick up,” he says, gripping Jeno’s arm and squeezing him, voice low, all playful. Jeno’s gut swoops, arm tingling where Doyoung leaves a burning imprint. “And when I see you later in the week, I’ll bring you a gift. Something to look forward to, alright?”

Jeno’s breath stutters. He’s not sure anything could be better than Doyoung just sitting by him, holding his hand, but gifts aren’t something he gets often. The prospect invites a childlike sort of excitement in him.

“Okay,” he says, ducking his head to hide his smile.

Doyoung puts a hand under his chin, lifting his head. Jeno can’t do anything but lift his face to meet his eyes.

“Good,” Doyoung says, and leans in to give him a careful hug around his sling.

His whole body feels alight, and he almost forgets how to breathe. Placing a hand on Doyoung’s back, he revels in the feeling of Doyoung’s soft t-shirt against his cheek, the press of his lean frame against Jeno’s firm torso.

Doyoung leans away all too soon, giving him a wave. “See you, Jeno.”

Jeno raises his hand slightly too late, just as Doyoung is turning around the corner. “Bye,” he calls after him, then closes the door, hands and toes tingling.

-

menaces to society inc.

he’s gone home now

i’m going to sleep if i can

most surreal 24hrs of my life

yellow: i bet

yellow: how are you feeling now?

just tired

my shoulder still hurts a bit but it’s a lot better than before

nyang: get some sleep

nyang: then tell us all about your new boyfriend

he’s not my boyfriend jaem

nyang: Not Yet

i wish

he’s really good looking and really nice

and like

idk if it’s always like this to touch attractive people cos i don’t really know

but him touching me made me feel like… so warm and happy

he’s going to come back to check on me and i really hope we can watch a movie together again

so i can hold his hand

nyang: dear god you are down bad already

 can you blame me?

yellow: not at all jeno

yellow: but please remember what i said about only doing the things you want to

yellow: i’d hate for you to lose all this by the end of the week because this guy just decides to drop you, and you’ve given him everything he asks of you

he hasn’t asked anything of me, renjun

he’s just helped me

i know you’re worried but… i think he’s actually just… nice?

nyang: …seems sus

nyang: what’s his class

Two

but his parents are both Fives. he said that’s why he wanted to help me

nyang: BOTH FIVES?

yellow: okay this is all making more sense now

yellow: i bet he and his brother have seen some shit

right?

nyang: it also means dating DA classes probably isn’t off the table for him

nyang: js

yellow: shut up jaemin. jeno, i’m so glad you’ve found a new friend

yellow: seriously, it’s not every day you get an opportunity like this

i don’t know if i can say he’s a friend. he’s just a nice person who helped me

and it’s not any day ever that i get an opportunity like this. lol

yellow: whatever capacity you know him in, he seems like a good one to keep around

yellow: hold onto that

nyang: he sure will if the hand holding wish is anything to go by

i thought this was a safe space  🙄

nyang: what’s not safe about what i just said!!

yellow: jeno, go and get some sleep. i will deal with him

nyang: 😳 😳 😳

night, guys❤️

-

Doyoung does call that evening, as promised. It wakes Jeno up from a long, eleven-hour sleep—his phone is on loud, because no one ever calls him but DART, and if DART calls, he’d better pick up, no exceptions. It nearly scares the life out of him, in fact, and he only remembers after picking it up that Doyoung had promised to call.

“Sorry, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asks, and butterflies spread in Jeno’s chest as he eases up, sinking back into his pillow, smiling.

“No, you didn’t,” he says, but his voice is so low and gravelly, there’s no way Doyoung will believe him.

The receiving laugh he gets says it all. “Didn’t I? Have you been asleep all this time?”

He sighs, still smiling. “I had a lot to catch up on.”

“How’s your head? Okay?”

“Fine,” he says. It feels heavy, but just in the sleepy way. “My arm aches, though. I need to get up and find my painkillers.”

“You do. Is this really your normal sleep pattern?”

“Uh, yeah. People stare at me too much in the daytime. Going out at night makes it easier to believe you’re undercover. Way fewer people in the streets, too. So I just… live nocturnally.”

Doyoung makes a concerned noise. “But how do you get your vitamin D? Your eyes will deteriorate if you never expose yourself to natural light.”

He blinks a few times. He’s never thought about that before. “My eyes are fine, though?”

“They won’t be if you never see the sun. Does your building have a rooftop you can use? You could do some work up there, or something.”

“I daren’t,” he says quietly, laying the phone to rest on his chest as he stares up at his ceiling. “Anywhere I go I’m a risk, Hyung. I usually only go out to the warehouse. Sometimes my friends make me take the long walk to work for some air, though.”

“That’s good,” Doyoung murmurs. “I’ll have to help you find a new motivation to go out if you’re giving up this job. I think I’ve got you something, I just need a few days to confirm it.”

“You got me something?” he perks up, surprised. The Six scheme is tough to get work with, and depending on your ability, not everything available fits. “What is it?”

“My school has been looking to bring someone on—they’ve got a lot of data to migrate onto a new system. It’s going to be boring, literally just typing up data, but you can do it all from home, and I can help you with it…”

“That sounds…” he’s never done something like that before. While he’d liked getting out to the warehouse twice a week, if he can’t do any physical work for a while, doing something new doesn’t sound so bad. “Are you sure they’re going to let me anywhere near kids?”

“I know the head of admin, he’s my friend. When I told him about the scheme and your predicament, he was game to help. Like you said, it offers the school cheap labour, right? And there’s no reason to think you’re dangerous with the students’ information, Johnny isn’t like that—but if you don’t want to do that kind of thing, I could—”

“No, no, Hyung—I’m interested. It sounds great, it will suit me loads. But that’s why you mean I’ll have to find a new reason to go out, right? Because it will all be from home.”

“Right. But over the summer, while school is out, there’s something else you can help with! The school library has a bunch of new books that need categorising—I could come and help you put the stickers on while your arm is in a sling—”

“Hyung,” Jeno says, unable to stop smiling. “You don’t have to help me do my job, it’s okay. I can manage. Can I really come to the school? There won’t be anyone around at all, right?”

“No, no one. Maybe I can give you a tour?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, quietly. “I’ll need to inform DART I’m swapping work right after I quit, and I’m supposed to have another shift in two days—do you think I’ll be able to get it sorted by then?”

“I’ll make sure Johnny fast-tracks you. He owes me a favour. I’ll update you, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you, Hyung.”

“No problem. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, not yet. Jaemin will nag me to when I get online, though, so don’t worry. I’ll be made to eat before I start on my assignment again.”

“Is Jaemin one of your friends?”

“Yeah, Jaemin and Renjun. I told them about you. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” Doyoung says, a smile in his voice. “What did you tell them?”

“It’s not every day I meet a new person, never mind someone who can help me. Someone who can touch me. I told them about everything.”

“What did they say?”

“They were happy for me. They’re the only people I have who care about me, so Renjun was protective at first, but they’re happy I found help. I still have to thank Donghyuck properly for coming for me.”

“He’d like to hear from you,” Doyoung says. He sounds contemplative. “How do you know Jaemin and Renjun? Online?”

“Jaemin was actually in the room next to me at the DART center I grew up in,” he admits, heart racing. He’s never had to admit to someone he grew up in a DART center before. “There was a crack in our connecting wall that meant we could hear each other, and we used to have conversations in the night, when we couldn’t sleep. He got reclassified to a Five once he got control of his power though, and left after about two years.

“But he kept in touch with me, and once I got out and was allowed the internet, he introduced me to Renjun. They met online, Renjun lives in China. I think… to be honest, I think they might be dating, and they just don’t want to admit it to me. Or they’re at least flirting, and don’t want to admit to themselves they like each other. Either way, they don’t make me feel excluded, or anything. I’m really lucky to have them.”

“It sounds like they look after you. Wouldn’t you want them to be honest with you if they’re dating, though?”

He pouts, though Doyoung can’t see it. “Dunno. Maybe not. It’s a thing I can never have, you know? And Renjun and Jaemin are the only people I have in the world. As much as I would be happy for them, it’s another reminder for me that I’ll always have to be alone, to keep other people safe. They’re my only friends, so if they become more intimate, if I was an outsider to that in our friendship… I don’t know. I think it would make me feel lonely.”

Doyoung hums. “Well, you can add me to the list of people who care about you, okay? You’re not going to be alone your whole life. You’re too sweet for that, and we have modern technology now. You’re allowed have people who love you and want to be in your life.”

His breath hitches. “Hyung, you met me just yesterday. You can’t tell me things like that already.”

“Yes I can. I’m looking out for you, alright? And I’ll get Donghyuck to have more visions of you, so I can tell you for sure.”

He laughs a little. “You’ve already done a lot for me.”

“Why does that mean I have to stop here?”

Jeno’s stomach rumbles then, and he laughs again, embarrassed.

“Sounds like I need to leave you to get some food, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he whines. “I want to speak to you more.”

Doyoung hums, endeared. “I need to make my own dinner, then interrogate Johnny about how quickly he can employ you. Then I’m going to bed. I’m not nocturnal, like you. Make some food, take it easy, chat to your friends. I’ll call you tomorrow if I have any news, okay?”

“You can call me even if you don’t have news,” Jeno says, and it makes Doyoung laugh, which makes him do a pleased little wiggle on his bed mat.

“Maybe I will,” Doyoung says, amused. “Have a good evening now, Jeno.”

“You too, Hyung.”

-

Doyoung calls him once a day, every day, for the rest of the week. He says it’s to check Jeno is eating and sleeping and resting his shoulder, but once the verbal medical check-up is over, he asks Jeno about his assignments, and his friends, and feeds him information on his new job. He has it confirmed within two days, calls up his boss at the warehouse to quit, and transfers his employment over to Doyoung’s high school in the space of twenty-four hours.

“Johnny agrees you can put all your hours into the library over the summer, to help get the new books sorted and categorised. I can show you around tomorrow, if you like?”

“Tomorrow? You’re not busy?”

“Not particularly. I know you have to catch up on your hours for the month, so no time like the present, right?”

“You can’t actually do my job with me, though. You can sit there and keep me company if you want, but I’ve got to do what I’m being paid to do.”

“What’s the point of me just sitting there? To look pretty? I like organising stuff, it will be fun!”

Jeno swallows his tongue, wishes he’d got the timing right to tell Doyoung yes, you can sit there and look pretty. “Can we go late? I always thought it would be cool to be at school at night.”

“…I was going to say no, but if you’ve never been in a school while it’s dark, I think we should do that. It’s the best kind of liminal space.”

“I don’t even know what that is, Hyung. I just see it a lot in video games.”

“Oh, right. Makes sense. Midnight tomorrow?”

Jeno smiles. Doyoung understands him so easily. “I’ll see you there.”

-

He rocks up at the school close to midnight, where Doyoung is already waiting at the entrance, ready to let him in. Jeno can’t get to close for fear of setting his monitors off, but thankfully Doyoung clocks this and waves at him from six feet away, unlocking the gate and trusting Jeno to follow behind.

“It’s good to see you in one piece this time,” he calls back down the path, and Jeno gives a slight, breathy laugh. It’s still something of an out of body experience to hang out with someone like this, without fear attached to it. Nerves, definitely. But not fear.

“It’s good to be in one piece. Mostly.” He lifts his sling arm up despite Doyoung’s back being to him as he opens the main school door. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem. Let me show you where the library is.”

Being back in a school is… strange. It’s been nearly ten years since he was in a building like this, and it’s bigger than his hometown school was. Scanning displays with the current curriculum, peeking into classrooms and the perfectly separated desks, passing the huge school hall, empty and quiet… it’s nothing like the dark, eerie schools in video games. They’re meant to make you feel scared.

This just makes him feel… nostalgic. Bittersweet.

“Here,” Doyoung says from ahead of him, opening up the door into the wide library. Jeno shuts it behind him when he enters, and takes a look around the wide room. “You can take your monitors off, if you like. There’s no one else here at midnight on a Friday in the school holidays.”

“I guess not,” he says, stroking his thumb along the latch on his wrist monitor. “Could you lock the library doors to be safe?”

“Sure,” Doyoung smiles, gesturing for him to move aside.

He slowly unclips his monitors as Doyoung locks them in, secure from the outside world, and turns the library lights on. The lights make a huge difference, giving life and a sense of warmth to the whole room, though it’s still as quiet as the rest of the school.

He feels naked, placing his gloves carefully on a desk along with all five monitors, green glow deactivated. He hasn’t been allowed outside his own four walls without his monitors on since his ability first manifested.

“Now I can give you this,” Doyoung says, presenting a little brown bag from his pocket and coming over to Jeno.

That’s still weird, too. That Doyoung has no fear, and that he can just come up to him and hand him stuff. “What is it?”

“I told you I’d bring you a gift the next time I saw you,” Doyoung says, clearly anticipating his reaction. “It’s nothing too special. I just saw it and thought of you.”

Jeno swallows down the mix feelings that clamour for his attention, and opens up the bag. Inside is a little fluffy dog keyring.

His mouth drops open as he holds it up. “This really reminded you of me?”

“It did! It’s cute, isn’t it?”

He flushes at the implication. “Really cute,” he murmurs, clasping it for a second before clipping it onto the belt loop of his jeans. “Thank you, Hyung.”

“You’re welcome. I got you this too.” He then presents him with his satchel; inside it is a full watermelon.

Jeno bursts into laughter. “You brought that here?”

“Of course! I’ve seen your cupboards, you seriously need to stock more fruit. You can even take the bag to take it home in, as long as you eat it.”

“I’ll eat it,” he grins. “Only because you bought me it.”

“Wrong,” Doyoung says, but he’s half-laughing too. “You’re supposed to eat it because it’s healthy!”

“I’m twenty-three and a student, I’m not supposed to eat healthy food.”

“You are when you don’t get vitamin D and never leave the house to exercise.”

“I get the sun through my windows! And I exercise! I have a pull-up bar at home I use all the time. When you’re someone like me, you learn to get creative with how you stay fit.”

“That explains why a homebody like you has muscles,” Doyoung says, pouting and squeezing Jeno’s bicep. His brain short circuits thanks to the zing that travels through him. “Come on, then. Let’s put them to good use.”

Doyoung leads him to where several crates of books are stacked up on one side of the library, where there’s also a roll of stickers and several empty shelves.

“We might need to rearrange other shelves to fit the right ones in the right places—anything that needs two hands, you ask me for, okay? Don’t strain your shoulder.”

“I won’t,” he says, picking up the book closest to him. It’s a geography textbook, in what looks like a pile of textbooks on different subjects. “Alphabetical order and genre shelves, right?”

“Certainly looks like it,” Doyoung says, picking up the library guide they’ve been left.

Jeno starts unpacking the books in twos with one hand, laying them out in alphabetical order where he can. He and Doyoung work in time with each other quickly and seamlessly, focusing at first on their respective tasks before falling into the lull of easy conversation once they’re in a flow.

“This is amazing,” Jeno says after a while, first shelf finished, pride sitting high in his chest.

“Amazing?” Doyoung says, looking up from his stack of stickers, smile on his face. “Jeno, we need to find you a new hobby if you think this is amazing.”

Jeno shakes his head with a smile. “My hobbies are fine. I just don’t get out much, you know? Having some semblance of independence—coming to help out the school like this, it’s special to me. I’m glad you and your friend trust me enough for this.”

“You don’t have to thank us like we’ve done something great for you. It’s nothing special, and you deserve steady work.”

“It is special, to me. I don’t think you realise just how unique you are in the world, Hyung. If people have sympathy with DA classes, they usually don’t have any ability that can help us. If they do—like you—then there’s no guarantee they’ll have sympathy. Most first responders at DART have powers like yours, meant to contain people like me. You’re in a very unique position to be able to help me.”

“A lot of people need to get their heads out of their asses. You’re nothing to be scared of. You’re like a marshmellow with muscles.” Doyoung reaches out to pinch his cheek.

He lets him pinch, but shoots him a remorseful look. “I am something to be scared of, actually. You’ve never had to fear anyone’s ability, much less your own. But there’s no one else I know who isn’t afraid of mine, and that’s what keeps them alive.”

Doyoung tilts his head, considering. “I don’t think it can be considered healthy to be afraid of your own ability.”

“It is when being unafraid will get someone killed,” he says, looking back at the book he’s sliding onto the shelf.

Doyoung presses his lips together in conceit.

There’s a pause for a minute as he takes a book around to a further shelf, bringing back one that was in the wrong place.

“I think that’s why DART let me out in the first place, you know. Because if I prove I can behave, then they know they can reliably use me. Renjun is convinced they’ll try to hire me as a first responder when I graduate. But I wouldn’t want to do that to other Sixes, no matter what.”

Doyoung runs his fingers along the pen he’s holding, looking down at the table. “When we first met, you asked me if I was with DART—because of my power, right? Honestly, you weren’t far off. I am trained as a first responder.”

Jeno’s head snaps up. “I thought you weren’t with them?”

“I’m not, I’m really not,” Doyoung says, placating hands up. “Schools all have to have someone who’s trained to be a first responder. Most abilities manifest at high school age, and someone has to be on hand who is trained to de-escalate dangerous situations. I’ve taken some DART training, but that’s as far as my association with them goes.”

Jeno places his book carefully on the shelf. “Oh.”

“I didn’t take training as a first responder because it’s convenient, with my power. I took it because I care a lot about DA classes and the way they’re mistreated. I firmly believe that the way your power manifests can have a huge impact on you, and having someone there to help you cope with it can change the direction of your whole life.”

Jeno doesn’t look up from the shelf. “I don’t know. To discover an ability like mine, you have to kill something or someone. That’s inevitable. Then you still have to live with that, and everyone you know and love has to live with that. Some DA classes will inevitably live tough lives because of their ability. That’s true for nearly all Sixes.”

“DA classes do have it the hardest. But why should that mean society should keep them shunned to the sidelines, their abilities so far suppressed they can’t live a normal life?”

“Because why should 90% of the population live in fear when the other 10% are living, breathing disasters waiting to happen?”

When Doyoung doesn’t respond straight away, he looks up. Doyoung just looks… sad.

“You deserve happiness, Jeno. You deserve to be able to do nice things, like anyone else. It’s not your fault you were born with this.”

“But it’s not anyone else’s fault, either. It’s my life to deal with.”

He comes back for another book to sort onto the shelf, Doyoung sighs, sitting forward to lean on his elbows.

Before he can speak again, Jeno jumps in. “I think it’s great you want to help kids when their abilities manifest, Hyung. That’s a great use of your ability. A lot better than joining DART to detain people. But there’s no such thing as an ideal world where everyone is treated equally when in reality, not everyone is made equally.”

Doyoung lifts his shoulders, acknowledging Jeno’s statement with a tilt of the head. “Maybe. But we can still be doing a lot more to make the world a lot better than it is.”

Jeno mulls that over for several more books, on autopilot as he places each one in the right place, shuffles books up, working in time with Doyoung.

“Is that how you see me?” he works up the courage to ask, after a little while.

Doyoung, engrossed in his task, looks up with a small noise. “What do you mean?”

“Do you see me as a Six you can fix?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows they’re true. That’s how they met, after all.

“Well… you are a Six, and you are in need of help. But that can coexist with my personal feelings towards you,” Doyoung says, standing to hand Jeno the next book, hand coming down over Jeno’s fingers to keep him there. Jeno can’t help but look up into Doyoung’s eyes. “I like you a lot, Jeno. You’re a really sweet kid, and I want to be your friend. If I can help you at the same time, then I won’t hesitate to.”

Jeno’s heart does a pathetic little flop in his chest. “You are my friend,” he says, looking down at where their fingers criss-cross over each other.

“Really?”

It’s Doyoung’s turn to look like a deer in headlights, which surprises Jeno. “Of course. You think I hang out with anyone else in libraries at night?”

“I’m technically loitering at your workplace, right now. If you wanted me to go, you only have to ask.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Jeno says quietly, pulling the book away to place it on the shelf, back to Doyoung shyly. “I like you a lot too.”

When he turns back, Doyoung has a shine to his eyes, mouth turned up at the corners.

They set the goal to finish up at three in the morning, for the sake of Doyoung’s sleep schedule, and for Jeno to get home in plenty of time before the sun starts to rise. Doyoung still insists on taking him around the school before leaving, and they run through hallways together like giggling children, Jeno’s monitors and gloves in hand so that the two of them can run hand-in-hand.

“Can you show me something before I go, Hyung?” he asks nervously when they come to the windows at the end of the top floor. He’s spotted a door that he very much wants to go through, if Doyoung has the key.

“What is it?”

He points to the door that says ROOFTOP GARDEN.

“It’s not much of a garden, you know. More like a patch of astroturf with some potted plants.”

“It’s not the plants I want to see,” he says, cheeks warm. Doyoung just shrugs and acquiesces, pulling out his ring of keys to open up the rooftop door.

They climb the last staircase and come out onto the wide rooftop. Doyoung was right, the garden is little more than a patch of artificial green with a few wilting flowers around, a bench placed behind it. Jeno comes to a stop in the middle of it, and sits down, laying out on his back.

“The stars?” Doyoung asks, joining him by crossing his legs, looking down at Jeno rather than at the sky.

“I know you can’t see them well in the city, but I still like trying to. My sister and I used to lie outside when we were little and try to count them. It makes the world feel big, and you feel small, when all you can see is sky like this.”

Doyoung lies down beside him in comfortable silence, his breathing the only thing Jeno can hear.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” Doyoung muses quietly.

“Makes everything seem a little easier,” Jeno says, picking out the few constellations he knows. Orion, mainly. “I knew this would be a good view. I can’t see the sky well from my apartment window, and I don’t like to stop for long in the street.”

“What about sunrises? You a sunset fan?”

“Don’t see them as much as I’d like. The stars are a lot more familiar. But when I do catch them, they’re gorgeous.”

Doyoung hums, and they fall back into a lull of comfortable silence.

“Wish I could give you all night out here, aegi, but I’m going to fall asleep if we stay lying down.”

Jeno laughs, a little surprised but welcoming of the pet name. “Five more minutes?”

“Alright,” Doyoung says, smile in his voice. “Wake me up in five minutes.”

-

menaces to society inc.

just got home! gonna eat and then sleep

yellow: how was the first day on the job?

nyang: i think you mean first night

yellow: shut up jaemin

it was really really good

doyoung stayed the whole night and we talked about stuff

it was so cool being in the school at night too

who let me do this

nyang: why does it sound like doyoung took you on a date in an abandoned school

yellow: you’re just saying anything at this point

nyang: i’m telling you i can smell a gay man with a crush on jeno anywhere

he was just helping me at work…

i swear

we’re going to do this some more until we get all the books done

you know what though

we had this conversation today about whether doyoung likes me or likes that he can help me

and it got me thinking

do i like him or do I like that he can touch me

not touch in a WEIRD way but you know

this is something i’m missing and something only he can provide

i don’t want to like… take advantage of him for that

nyang: i don’t think that would be like you

nyang: even as deprived of touch as you are, if you didn’t like doyoung, it wouldn’t feel right and good to hang out with him

nyang: you don’t like the touch DESPITE it coming from doyoung, and you don’t like the touch as a concept in isolation. if i could touch you or renjun could touch you, i’m sure you’d seek it out, but you’re a logical person. even pessimistic, you’ve said yourself. and you really light up when you talk about this guy. that doesn’t come from infatuation, it comes from genuine connection

wow

you sound like you’ve thought about this

nyang: yeah and i’m right

yellow: i agree with jaemin. i was worried at first but you’re not always talking to us about how doyoung can hold you

yellow: you’re talking to us about how nice he is and how he checks on you and cares about you and how pretty he is etc etc…

um no i don’t

nyang: you really do

well

that’s up for debate

but either way i appreciate that you guys

i need to sleep on that idea i think

which reminds me

i’m going to try and talk to donghyuck…

he seems nice and i still need to thank him for coming to help me

nyang: new friend for jeno!!!! that’s two in one week!!!

yellow: good luck jen! he seems nice, you’ll be fine

i hope so

it would be easier to just invite him to a game of something

but while my shoulder is messed up i’m going to have to actually… talk

nyang: you’re our strongest soldier

yellow: we could do some jackbox if you want to invite him? you don’t need both hands for that

you guys want to meet him?

nyang: i’ll meet anyone who saved my jeno from near death

yellow: of course!

🥺🥺🥺

i love you guys

i’ll message him now

yellow: we love you too 🫶

haechan

hey

it’s jeno from next door

sorry doyoung gave me your ID haha

haechan: Hi Jeno from next door

haechan: What brings you to these parts?

i wanted to properly thank you for coming to help me that day

sorry for appearing in your dreams and putting you through that

but i’m really glad you came

haechan: Anything is better than dreams of your friends getting their rocks off

haechan: Or dreams of your parents dying

haechan: Or dreams where you’re thirty years older and unrecognisable…

haechan: and CORPORATE

haechan: It’s scary stuff. Anyway I’m happy to help whenever you need me to, just give me a shout

your ability sounds pretty intense

haechan: Not sure it holds a candle to yours, buddy

hah

probably

hey do you want to play jackbox with my friends?

sorry if this is random but

we’re going to do a game this evening and it would be fun for you to join

haechan: …what packs do you have

All Of Them

haechan: If we can play Quiplash, I’m down

it’s a deal

haechan: See you then, pretty boy

-

He and Doyoung spend a few hours in the school for a few nights in a row until the books are all done, and Jeno graduates to a work laptop for all his file-sorting and data-inputting, or whatever it is he’s doing.

Doyoung invites him over one day to go through things with him, and that’s something that takes him by surprise. Being invited to his place, and actually being able to go, when Kun is staying over with his boyfriend.

He can’t take public transport, so the walk is over an hour, which is the longest he’s been outside in a long time. He sets off after midnight, and walks in the road where he can. Still, traversing streets outside his usual haunts is nerve-wracking, and he’s alert for people around every corner, taking them slowly, with a wide berth.

His monitors are only set off one time, thanks to a group of drunk friends who laugh and wobble down the road, spreading out without pattern or logic, not paying any attention to Jeno who throws himself to the side, squeezing between two parked cars to avoid them. Still, they come within range of the monitors, which causes the loud warning blare to ring out into the quiet night for about two seconds.

His heart races, and he crosses the street without looking back at whoever had screamed in surprise. He can feel all their eyes on him—at least around his own area, he’s something of a resident creature in the night, the local Six no one knows but people occasionally see. He’s a bit of a zoo attraction here, in a relatively nice neighbourhood with wide streets and residents that are actually social, even at night.

“You made it!” Doyoung says over the intercom when he arrives, buzzing him in.

“Barely,” he replies, coming inside quickly. Thankfully, there’s no one around here, and Doyoung lives on the ground floor, so there are no tricky elevators or narrow stairwells to navigate.

Doyoung scans him when he opens the door to Jeno, and Jeno ushers him back so he can come inside and strip off the gloves and take his monitors off without them alarming again. “What happened?”

“Some people just got too close,” he says, hands trembling as he pulls at the clasps on his monitors. “Kun definitely isn’t coming back tonight, right?”

“No, he was certain about that. No one is here but us. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, clicking off his second monitor and placing it on Doyoung’s kitchen table. As he centers himself, working on the ankle monitors next, he takes some deep breaths and looks around the room.

Doyoung’s apartment is small, but very warm and homely. Lamps glow a soft orange on no less than three surfaces. Small trinkets sit on cabinets, but it’s not cluttered, everything neat and with order. The brown rug on the floor looks soft and well-kept. The kitchen is clear and clean.

He finally unclasps the monitor around his neck, and the five green bands power down, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Hey,” Doyoung says, coming up beside him, hand running up his arm. Jeno turns into him, and Doyoung takes him into a hug so naturally, it’s like he’s been waiting to ever since Jeno arrived.

“Your place is nice,” Jeno says, muffled into his shoulder, but only to stop himself from blurting out, you smell nice. Because he really does. Fresh and fragrant—somehow perfectly matching the vibe of his place.

“Thanks. It’s not much, but it’s home. I made spaghetti earlier, if you want some?”

“I’d love some,” he says, surprised. It’s past one in the morning, and Doyoung is serving him food?

“You must be tired after walking all that way,” Doyoung says, pulling a bowl out of the fridge and pushing it into the microwave. “You should let me drop you back at home later. I can take Kun’s car.”

“I can’t, I shouldn’t,” Jeno stammers, and Doyoung waves him away.

“We can figure it out, Jeno. You can stand in the corner of a parking lot and put your monitors back on. Stay for the night and I’ll take you back in the morning, okay?”

His apartment block does have underground parking—he’d forgotten about that. “Um. Okay. Thank you, Hyung.”

“My pleasure,” Doyoung says, and serves up a warm plate of spaghetti bolognaise.

Doyoung sits beside him as he eats. He’s talking to Jeno about something, but between the delicious hot meal and the gentle scratches Doyoung is giving the back of Jeno’s head, he finds it incredibly hard to focus. He’s like a blissed out dog panting because of pets. When they end up in comfortable silence, there’s a long enough stretch for Jeno to tune back into coherent Korean.

“Can I change your sling before we take a look at your work?”

He finishes up his bowl, and thanks Doyoung for the food whilst looking down at his sling. It’s looking discoloured and frayed from wear, now.

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. I had Kun show me how to do it earlier.”

Jeno flushes, for some reason, and turns in the dining chair as Doyoung produces the same medical kit Kun had brought to his apartment before. He slides the sling from Jeno’s arm—once again, the touch giving him little pleasant shivers—and positions Jeno’s arm to wrap him in a new sling.

“Has your shoulder been hurting you recently?”

“Not very much. A bit, if I reach for something without realising. But most of the time it feels fine.”

“That’s great news,” Doyoung murmurs, focusing on the knot he’s tying. “Kun said to let you know that you can start having it off for periods of time in the next week or two, and that you can just put it on again if you’re hurting. You’ll get to use both your hands a bit more.”

“Really? That’s a relief.”

“It’ll be good to have both hands back, right?”

“Definitely. If I need to type, it will make things quicker, too.”

“That’s right,” Doyoung says, sitting back to admire his handiwork. “Let’s take a look at your work.”

Doyoung gets done running Jeno through everything on the laptop in about twenty minutes, so they find themselves situated on Doyoung’s sofa, scrolling through Netflix for something to watch together. It’s one of the comfiest sofas Jeno has ever been on—the kind you sink into, with what feels like a million pillows, a blanket, and a stuffed rabbit sitting beside him. He picks up the rabbit and squeezes it happily as Doyoung selects some movie about Japanese gangs.

“I know one of the guys who acted in this movie,” Doyoung says, turning back to look at Jeno. His face breaks out into a smile immediately, showing teeth and gums, and he moves to stroke the top of Jeno’s head affectionately. “You’re so cute.”

Jeno pouts, because he’s not quite sure how to react to the attention otherwise. He just likes the feel of the blanket on his lap, okay?

“Should I put a Disney movie on for you instead?” Doyoung asks, teasing.

“This is fine,” Jeno says, cradling the rabbit close to his chest and sitting further into the couch. Doyoung’s hand leaves his head and lands in his lap, naturally taking Jeno’s hand in his. Jeno feels practically electrified by it, and ducks his head to hide his smile, grasping Doyoung’s hand happily. “Tell me about your friend.”

They settle into the movie together, and Doyoung tells Jeno about his college friend Yuta who had gone into acting. He’s a Three whose ability allows him to connect his mind into cyberspace, which was something that helped him go viral after his first role. He’d played a serial killer, and was able to download hundreds of papers and studies on the nature of killers straight to his brain. His performance was considered outstandingly haunting, and he quickly shot to moderate fame in Japan.

“You told me before that I’ve never feared anyone’s ability, but to be honest, his scared me. I can’t believe he was classified a Three. Can you imagine what someone with the potential for endless knowledge could do? What they could become?”

“Is he a weird guy?”

“No, Yuta’s cool. A little reckless, but nothing dangerous. He had to be careful, though. If he went about accessing data that contained viruses or malware, it could make him seriously sick.”

“Huh. Abilities have such weird affects like that, don’t you think? Renjun’s ability is that he causes people close to him to lose their memories. He told me that it took a while for him to understand what his ability was, because they just thought his mom had dementia. He eventually realised it by figuring out his dreams weren’t random—they were the memories that he’d taken from the people around him.”

“God,” Doyoung says, brow creasing. “Donghyuck figured out his ability like that. He usually has foresight of people he’s seen or spoken to recently, so he didn’t think twice about having dreams including them. That’s normal, right? And the things he saw started out small, insignificant. He caught on when he foresaw a fight our dad would get into in public. That was one wild day—him getting arrested and Donghyuck realising he had foresight. He felt pretty guilty for not warning him for a while.”

“What are your parents’ abilities? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind,” Doyoung says, squeezing Jeno’s hand. “My mom can control your body with her mind, like puppeteering. She hasn’t used it any time in my memory, but she still has to wear the bands in public, like you. My dad can strike lightning at any time of day, any weather.”

“What?” Jeno breathes, leaning in without meaning to. “That’s badass. Your parents are like, the two protagonists of a manga.”

Doyoung laughs. “Pretty cool, right? I always thought so. But my dad had a reputation—he once lost his temper at work and caused lightning to strike the building. No one was hurt, but he had to pay a lot of money in reparations, and spend a year at a DART center to prove he could control it. He was reclassified a Six that year, then reclassified a Five again when he got out. The people in our area didn’t exactly forgive and forget, though. Hence the fight, that one time. And more than once, but that’s by the by.”

“Does he still work there?”

“Like hell he does. Why do you think he lost his temper in the first place? He actually works in renewable energy now, with a team studying greener electricity.”

“I love things like that. The weird, niche things people go into with their abilities. Jaemin’s ability is that he can control other people’s heart rate, and he’s working with a research team on heart attacks and heart murmurs.”

“This is exactly what I’m saying about the DA classes, though! Given the right circumstances, I really believe everyone’s powers can thrive.”

“What good to you see me doing with mine? Shall I move to Switzerland and open a euthanasia clinic?”

“Some people would pay good money for that.”

“What kind of life is that for me? Killing people every day?”

“That’s true. You’re too much of a kind person to go through with that. You’re too gentle.”

Jeno looks back to the TV screen. He realises he’s been completely ignoring the film in favour of talking to Doyoung, and has no idea what’s going on now. “You might think that, Hyung, but you’re still the exception to see me like that, not the rule.”

“How can anyone say you’re not gentle, Jeno? You cowered away from letting me touch you at all that time we first met.”

“Of course I did. I thought you’d die.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not kind for not wanting you to die. That means I’m just a decent human being.”

“If the world beat me down the way it does to Sixes like you, Jeno, I’d be a lot less than a decent human being.”

He turns back to face Doyoung again, who holds his whole attention on Jeno. Jeno doesn’t know how to respond, but Doyoung smiles and laces their fingers together, pulling their connected hands into his lap.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Before, you asked me if I saw you as someone I could save. What about you? Do you see me as someone who can save you?”

He swallows, and can’t help but avoid Doyoung’s eyes again. He’s been thinking about this a lot.

“It’s hard to say. It’s been so long since I had a real life friend, I’ve kind of forgotten what it feels like. I don’t know if my… attachment is normal, or if it’s some kind of need to take everything I can get. But I know for sure that I don’t want to use you. I like it when you hold my hand, and scratch my scalp, and touch my arm and hug me and—all those things. I know they’re probably not that special to you, but…”

“It’s special to me,” Doyoung says, firmly.

Jeno’s heart wobbles. “I really like it. I want to do anything you want to do. I can’t lie—never being able to experience this, ever, is a motivation. But I also just… really like you. Jaemin said to me that if I didn’t like you as a person, I’d feel bad about touching you, emotionally. Even if I liked it physically. I wouldn’t enjoy hanging out with you, I’d just want to… like I said, use you. But I don’t. I’m really just happy to be here, with you. To be your friend.”

Doyoung makes a cooing noise in the back of his throat, like Jeno is a particularly cute dog. “Stop, you’re too sweet. I like you so much, Jeno.”

“I really like you too,” he says, almost a whisper, and Doyoung wraps his arms around him, leaning his head on his shoulder. His whole body lights up at the contact—inside and out.

“Hey,” Doyoung says, pulling back. “Whatever you want, just say it. I’m happy to oblige.”

“Whatever?” he asks, wide eyed.

“Whatever,” Doyoung promises, looking right back, eyes big and round and so, so pretty.

He squeezes Doyoung’s hand again. “Can we switch hands? I’m getting sweaty.”

Doyoung beams at him. “Of course. Here.”

He switches their hands, Jeno slipping off his sling to get comfortable, their fingers tangling together with ease. He rests against Doyoung’s side, and tries to focus back on the movie, when Doyoung’s soft and warm skin takes all his attention.

-

Somewhere between the warm blanket, the dim living room, and Doyoung’s gentle touch, he must’ve nodded off. He comes back to consciousness to the sound of Doyoung’s low voice, and when his eyelids crack open, he sees he’s on the phone.

“Hyuck,” he says, voice low and agitated. “No, I hear you. I’ve heard every word. But I don’t want to talk about this now.”

A pause. He realises his hand is still in Doyoung’s—he’s actually come closer to Doyoung, head on his shoulder, just like Doyoung did to him that first time they were together.

“Yeah. I can handle it. He’s here right now, so can we talk about this later?”

Jeno’s gut sinks. He trusts Doyoung—but what does Jeno have to do with anything?

“Okay. Sure.”

Doyoung must end the call, because he’s quiet after that. The movie is no longer running, but there’s quiet music on in the apartment instead.

He inhales and shifts, blinking to properly clear his vision. Doyoung looks up from his phone, and gives Jeno a soft smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead. It’s nearly sunrise.”

“Shit,” he says, still out of it. “I gotta get home soon.”

“Kun won’t be here for another hour or two,” Doyoung says, releasing Jeno’s hand to reposition himself on the couch. “Do you want to get some breakfast, then I’ll drop you off at home?”

“Breakfast?” Jeno asks, head perking up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay,” Doyoung smiles, and leans in to peck Jeno on the cheek. When he leans out, his own cheeks are a little pink. Jeno simply sits there, stunned.

“Oh?”

“Was that okay?”

Jeno reaches up to lightly touch where Doyoung’s mouth had made contact. He feels like he could fight off an army. “Yeah. That was really okay.”

Doyoung smiles again, that brilliant smile Jeno might just be getting addicted to. “Okay. Great. Let me make you some breakfast, cutie.”

-

menaces to society inc.

yellow: but why should i have to know anything about moomin to like moomin

yellow: isn’t it enough for him to be cute?

nyang: no renjun that’s misogynistc

yellow: what does that even mean

yellow: is moomin a girl?

nyang: you would know that if you knew the lore wouldn’t you

yellow: shut the hell up jaemin

yellow: like you know all the lore about hello kitty

nyang: you mean you don’t know about hello kitty’s twin sister, hello mimmy?

nyang: you shun her boyfriend, daniel starr? you scorn the life of her superhero alter ego, strawberry man???

yellow: i genuinely have no idea if you’re making all this up or not

nyang: I Am Deadly Serious About Hello Kitty

yellow: you are some kinda freak babe

just got home!

yellow: oh hi jeno

yellow: how was your night?

it was sooo nice

doyoung is the nicest ever

nyang: I resent that 😠

yellow: are you under the impression you are the nicest ever?

nyang: yes 😠

also i think he might have proposed we have sex

yellow: WHAT

nyang: HELL YEAHHHH GET SOME MY BOYYYY

yellow: JAEMIN THIS IS SERIOUS

yellow: why do you say you ‘think’ that jeno

umm

maybe i’m reading too much into it

we were talking about why we hang around each other

he asked me if i like being around him because i like him

or just because he’s the only person i can hang with

you know like we talked about the other day it’s kind hard for me to figure out?

when i was saying it to him it all just slipped into place. i knew you were right, and that i like him for him, not just his ability

anyway i said ‘i want to do anything you want to do’

nyang: AWOOOOO

and he said ‘anything you want, just say it.’

yellow: not going to lie it sounds like you proposed the sex more

I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT

nyang: well if HE means it like that all the better for you right?

i don’t think i’m ready for that yet

i’d like a kiss first

i mean 😳

nyang: GET IT JENOOOO

yellow: stop that’s so cute

yellow: it sounds like you could kiss him if you wanted to

you think?

yellow: definitely

i really can’t fuck anything up with doyoung-hyung

it’s quite literally my only shot at having friendship or company or anything

but more than that he’s just

so nice and special

and i want him to feel like that about me

yellow: well... only one way to find out 👀

nyang: i know you didn’t get much sex ed jeno so i’m gonna send you some resources ok

nyang: you gotta be safe

oh my god jaemin

nyang: Read Them Or Else

i will i will

thanks you guys

yellow: no thank You

yellow: this is the most excitement any DA class person i know has had all year

anything to entertain you junnie

nyang: as it should be

-

Working for the school is boring, but on the whole much safer and less tiring than the warehouse was. He logs a few hours every other day and easily makes up his part-time hours, which by far beats all-night shifts lifting crates, the resulting ache in his muscles every morning.

The sling comes off permanently, and he replaces his walks outside with jogging twice a week, running through the quiet roads in his area at around 4am, sticky in long sleeves and his cycling gloves in summer. But it’s worth it for the air on his face, the pleasant quietness of the streets at night, and getting some movement into his muscles.

He and Doyoung occasionally work together, if Jeno starts early and Doyoung finishes late, mostly over phone call but a few times in Jeno’s apartment. Once, when Kun has his boyfriend over for the night, Doyoung even sleeps on Jeno’s couch, and they have breakfast together in the morning.

For a few weeks, things are really, really nice. He and Doyoung make meals together, Jeno holding his hand and following him around the kitchen, which makes Doyoung laugh and tickle him. Doyoung hugs him from behind whilst Jeno sets the table, and wraps an arm around Jeno when they settle in for movies together. A few more times, he kisses Jeno’s ear, or cheek, and once his hand.

Though he knows this can’t last—though he knows Doyoung is a thing he can’t have permanently—he loves what they have now more than anything.

For people like Jeno, though, nice things never last too long.

When he jogs, he does so in the middle of the road, since barely any cars are around at the same time as him. He rarely sees anyone, but if he does, it’s the odd shift worker or early riser. They look at him—that’s what the bands are designed for, after all—but usually, no one tries to stop him or talk to him.

His mistake was jogging into the suburbs, instead of sticking to the main roads. Anyone has a right to the roads—but people get awfully defensive about Sixes being near their homes.

The group of boys are loitering in a park. He doesn’t see them at first, all in dark clothes between clumps of trees, so when he slows down to catch his breath, he thinks he’s alone. Tall apartment blocks stand still and quiet around him—he’d had the thought of taking a break on a park bench. Small things like that, Doyoung is slowly convincing him he can have.

When he first hears the indistinct ‘hey’ called out, it surprises him, and he turns and squints until he can see three or four figures standing between the trees, looking his way.

“Hey,” he says, at a lower volume. “Sorry, I’ll just…”

The boys emerge from the trees. They look like young adults—nineteen or twenty, each of them tall and lean. Jeno waits for them to spot his monitors and stop walking towards him, but they don’t.

“What are you doing here?” one of them shouts and Jeno starts to back up, unsettled. One of the boys has their phone out, filming him.

“I’ll go,” he says, turning around. He was planning to do a loop of the area, but now he looks back the way he came. Only the street splits three ways, and he’s not sure which one he took.

“No, no, I asked you a question,” the boy says, and when Jeno turns again, he’s still advancing on him. Just a few paces more, and he’ll be close enough to set off Jeno’s monitors.

“Don’t come near me,” he says, backing up faster. “Don’t touch me.”

“Why? What are you gonna do, Six?”

“What are you, Six?”

The boy in the lead comes close enough to set off Jeno’s monitors, and the blare is so loud in the dead of night that it’s bound to wake everyone in the surrounding buildings.

The boys are startled by the volume, and Jeno takes the opportunity to turn and run.

When the alarm stops blaring, he can hear the sound of footsteps behind him. When he turns his head, he finds all four boys are running after him, shouting.

He’s petrified. Every instinct screams at him to slow down—if he runs into someone at a blind corner, everything is over. But he needs to keep ahead of the boys—while they might think they’re being righteous by chasing Jeno out of their area, it’s only their lives that are at risk here.

One of them comes close enough to set off Jeno’s monitors again, propelling him faster forward through the streets, taking corners blindly, following the road and hoping it leads him back to his apartment block eventually.

It’s a surprise when he comes down a slope between two buildings and out to the main road again—and even more of a surprise to run straight into a car, horn blaring, brakes screeching to avoid him. It does, mostly, Jeno getting his hands on the bonnet to stop himself from running straight into it. But that slows him right down, and the boys behind him are still running—his monitors go off—someone gets a hand in his long sleeve shirt—

He places a hand against the boy’s chest, and shoves, hard.

Because the boy has made contact, his monitors aren’t just blaring a warning siren—they’re shrieking a long, hard alarm wail. When he turns tail and runs, he can’t hear if they’re still following him or not, and doesn’t dare stop to look. He runs, and runs, narrowly avoiding another car, running without stop until he comes to the doors of his building.

His monitors are still wailing, and the sound rings in his ears. He gets into the elevator, and realises he’s alone, and he’s crying, and his chest is heaving and burning, and his hands are trembling so much he hits the wrong button at first.

The boy—he’d touched him. He’d touched him. Jeno has killed him.

He stumbles into his apartment, struggling to unclasp the first monitor around his neck, throwing it onto the ground when he finally unlatches it. He sheds his gloves, and the second two monitors, desperate for some quiet. He can’t think straight.

When the ankle cuffs come off, the monitors finally power down, wail cutting off abruptly. Jeno shudders, and drops to his knees, palms flat on the floor, hyperventilating.

He reaches blindly for his phone. He’s killed someone. He needs to call DART—they need to take him back, he needs—jail won’t work, he’ll have to—he needs—

“Jeno?”

Doyoung’s voice calls out to him, and he’s confused at first, looking around his dark apartment. He still can’t quite catch his breath.

“D-Doyoung?”

“Jeno, are you alright? Hey, take a deep breath with me.”

He realises Doyoung’s voice is coming from his phone. He’d accidentally dialled him instead of DART.

He sobs, sitting back and putting his face in his hands. He can’t stop his breathing from coming out quickly and erratically—but Doyoung calls out to him a few more times, and he focuses in on that, trying to slow his breathing as much as possible.

“Jeno, can you tell me what happened?”

He grasps his knees, shaking his head even though Doyoung can’t see him. “I—I killed someone. I killed him. I’m—I’m sorry, I was trying to call DART—”

“Don’t call DART,” Doyoung says firmly. “Tell me what happened, Jeno.”

“I—I should call someone—”

“No. You tell me first, okay?” There’s some shuffling as Doyoung moves around. “Tell me.”

Jeno takes a deep, long breath, weighing up his options. If this is the last time he can speak to Doyoung, he doesn’t want to leave it like this. But doing what Doyoung asks of him is the easiest thing. The path of least resistance.

“I was jogging. I ran into a neighbourhood not far from here… I thought it was all quiet. But this group of boys were there… not much younger than me, probably. At first they just shouted at me. Then they all moved towards me. I turned and started running, but I think that just encouraged them to chase me.”

“That’s not your fault,” Doyoung says firmly. “You did the only thing you could.”

“I kept running until I reached the main road. I ran into this car—”

“Are you hurt?” Doyoung says urgently. “Shall I get Kun?”

“No,” he says, nearly a whisper. “No, I’m not.”

“What did the car do?”

“It swerved me—barely. But I had to stop running, and one of them caught up to me. He—he put his hands on me—” His breath is speeding up again.

“Where?”

“My arm.”

“Did you have anything on them?”

“Yes—long sleeves.”

“So he didn’t touch your skin, right?”

“No, but, Hyung—I pushed him away. I put my hand on his chest and I pushed him. And I turned away and ran.”

“You still didn’t touch skin, right? You had your gloves on. Jeno, you’re panicking—those guys attacked you, and it was very close to a bad situation. But you didn’t kill him. You didn’t actually touch him. You’re a good person—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he bursts, all at once letting out a shuddering breath. “It doesn’t! No matter how much you believe I’m good, that doesn’t change what I am. Haven’t you realised yet? I’m a person who killed my own parents. How can someone like me ever be good? How can you think I’ll never hurt anyone, made the way I am?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Jeno feels disconnected from his body, his phone on the floor, staring at nothing. He’s still shaking all over. Doyoung breathes deeply, and then a hum in the background of the call stops.

“I’m at your building. Can I come up?”

A stray tear slides down his cheek. He shakes his head, but hears himself saying, “Okay.”

The call ends. Doyoung is up in what feels like seconds, but Jeno stays in place when he opens the door, switches on the light, and comes to kneel in front of Jeno.

“Oh, baby,” he says, reaching out to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Jeno startles when Doyoung touches him, but Doyoung’s ability remains as steadfast as ever, and he just watches Jeno carefully. “You didn’t kill him. I’m sure of it.”

Jeno lets the silence sit before speaking, taking a few shuddering breaths. “When my ability first manifested, I was fourteen, and I was making a cake with my mom. It was a few days before Yeeun’s birthday. She was going to be seventeen. We—we were just getting out the ingredients and—mixing them, and she asked me to pass her the flour. I picked it up, and handed it to her… and our hands touched, just a little bit. The slightest contact. And she dropped to the floor, along with the flour. It all spilled out around her, I remember. I was stunned—I didn’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Doyoung says quietly.

“You need to know. This is what I’m trying to tell you, Hyung.”

Doyoung just watches him, lips pursed, and nods.

“I called for my dad, who was in the next room, and he came and knelt by her. He tried shaking her, and he checked for a pulse, and… I guess he didn’t find one, because he changed so fast. He shouted for Yeeun to call an ambulance. She was there, her phone in hand, and she watched me when I—I reached out to hold my dad’s hand, because I was afraid.”

He swallows, and doesn’t suppress the hot tears that roll down his cheeks. “I didn’t know then—I didn’t realise it was me that did it. As soon as I touched my dad, he dropped in just the same way. I remember Yeeun screamed, and looked at me, and I still didn’t realise what was happening.

“It was only when I saw her face that I realised. She was the first person to understand what my ability was. She already had her ability—her hair would change colour based on her emotions. Her hair turned white-blonde, for the first time I’d ever seen. She told me to stay there and not move, not come close to her. Then she left the room, and I was stood between my parents until DART arrived.”

He lifts his head, refocusing to find Doyoung’s face. “What would you have done to make my life better, Doyoung? You’re not much older than Yeeun. Should she have done something different? I was fourteen, and I killed both my parents in the space of a minute. What redemption is there for me? This was always bound to happen again, sooner or later.”

“You didn’t touch him,” Doyoung says, voice thin, but insistent. “And you know as well as anyone you never wanted to hurt your parents.”

“No, but I did anyway. It’s the same with him, but this time I pushed him with full awareness of what I was doing.”

“You did the right thing. If he’d continued to grab you, he would’ve gotten himself killed.”

“I already—weren’t you listening? The slightest touch is enough. Even if I tried to avoid skin, that doesn’t mean I did. It was all so quick…”

“Until there’s a body, you haven’t committed a crime.”

“I didn’t stick around long enough to see one.”

“Well, we’re not going out now. Come on.”

He takes Jeno by the arms and pulls, and he’s surprised enough to stand with Doyoung, staggering over to the couch.

“I need to call DART.”

“No, you don’t. If there’s a body tomorrow, Jeno, they’ll find you anyway. Let’s not speed up your incarceration. Let’s spend the night here.”

He guides Jeno into lying on his lap, and starts to stroke his hair. Jeno supposes he’s right. If he’s locked away forever, at least he can have his last moments of freedom feel comforting, even if that’s not something he deserves. He tries to memorise the feeling of Doyoung’s hand in his hair.

Doyoung reaches out and holds his hand. He’s figured out that’s Jeno’s favourite thing to do, and knows just how to calm him.

He has thoughts of messaging Jaemin and Renjun, giving them some warning he might be disappearing—but he doesn’t know where his phone is. And he doesn’t want to move.

His life might be over tomorrow. But for now, Doyoung is here.

-

The night is spent restlessly, coming in and out of consciousness, reaching out to feel if Doyoung is still there, settling down when he is. It might be the bright morning sunlight that properly wakes him, but more likely it’s the lack of Doyoung in reaching distance that rouses him. He sits up on the couch, exhausted and dazed, blinking away sleep. Doyoung is in the kitchen, making something up for breakfast. The events of yesterday feel like they were from another life.

He stares out his little window at the building opposite. He’s still here. Why haven’t they come for him yet? His phone is placed face-down on the table. He reaches over for it—it’s gone ten in the morning.

“Jeno?”

He raises his head. His eyes feel puffy and sore. “Hi.”

“Hey. Come over here, lets eat.”

He finds the strength to lift himself off the sofa and shuffle over to the table. Doyoung has made them kimchi toast.

“I don’t know if I can eat,” he whispers.

“Have a bite, and I’ll tell you the news.”

He raises his head. “What is it?”

“One bite. It’s some bad news, but more good news.”

He picks up the toast and takes a small bite. “What?” he says, before even starting to chew.

“The guys you ran into last night uploaded a video.”

His blood runs cold, and he swallows hard. “Oh, God.” This is the worst outcome of all. That video is bound to get back to his friends. It’ll get back to Yeeun, wherever she is. He’ll never see the light of day again. He doesn’t even have any missed calls from DART, but it’s only a matter of time—

“The video proves you didn’t kill anyone, Jeno. That’s the good news. All four them are up and walking and shouting abuse at you. They’re fine.”

He collapses back into his seat, taking a shuddering breath. “I didn’t?”

Doyoung reaches across the table to take his hand. “You didn’t. I told you, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t kill him. I—I didn’t?”

“You’re innocent.”

Tears are dripping down his face again, but he exhales in relief, whole body flooding with it. “I didn’t kill him.”

“DART called while you were asleep. I picked up and explained what happened. They said that they still need to take a statement from you, but because you weren’t the one to instigate the incident, and because I’m a first responder that came to you right after—they won’t come here, Jeno. You’re fine. Your life is intact.”

He blinks at Doyoung a few times. “That—that’s it?”

“That’s it. The worst you have to deal with now is filling in a report.”

“I—I’m—thank you, Hyung. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to. I was prepared to.”

Jeno blinks a few times more. “Prepared? Did you think something like this would happen?”

“Not—not think.” Doyoung looks a little ashamed, playing with his fingers. “Donghyuck had a vision a few weeks ago of you, on the floor, on your phone, talking to someone. You said ‘Hyung’, so he thought it might be me. You were in a state, insisting you’d killed someone.”

“You… you’ve known all this time?”

“Yes.”

The silence in the room is heavy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t believe you had actually killed someone. And if you had, it wouldn’t be any fault of your own.”

He grips the chair, afraid it will fall away from him. “But you knew someone could’ve died—whether it was my fault or not—and you didn’t report it? You didn’t say anything?”

“If I’d told you, Jeno, think about what you would’ve done. You wouldn’t have left the house, you wouldn’t have spoken to anyone, you probably would’ve called DART to turn yourself in. You’d have brought down your whole life within days.”

“If I had killed someone last night, you could’ve avoided it by saying something! How can you think—you can’t go around putting DA classes ahead of everyone else just because life is a little harder for us. Yes, maybe I would’ve done all those things—but it would’ve given me peace of mind that I wasn’t a killer. It would’ve kept those boys safe—”

“When people jump in front of speeding trains, we don’t stop all trains to make sure it doesn’t happen again. It was their choice to harass you, and if something had happened, that video is all the evidence needed to prove you did not kill them. You warned them, and they continued.”

“Does that matter? Why should right and wrong and blame and stupidity all come before a life? A human life? I’m different to a speeding train—I’m just a boy. Why is my freedom worth more than a life?”

“Because of that,” Doyoung says, loud enough that it rings throughout the room. “Because you’re just a boy. Your monitors act as the warning that you’re as deadly as the speeding train—but because you look like a boy, people think they can shut you away and put you down and tell you that you don’t deserve any good thing. But you do, you deserve your friends, you deserve your apartment, you deserve to have someone who loves you come over at four in the morning just to hold your hand and tell you you’re good, and that you didn’t kill anyone. I hate that you think of yourself like a bomb that could go off at any time. Yes, your ability is inherently dangerous. But you, Jeno, you are not. You’re just a boy.”

He pulls his hand away from Doyoung’s and down onto his lap, grasping his knees. “I don’t think like that because I hate myself. It’s just how the world sees me—so doesn’t that make me what I am? Every year, the news regurgitates the story about my parents. Every year, I see comments about how my parents had horrible luck with a child like me. I see people talk about how I could do anything I wanted to anyone, how they hope I’m locked up—I see people hunt down my sister and harass her online, I get anonymous emails telling me the world would be better if I killed myself. It’ll all come again now, when people connect my story with the video.

“You might think right now that you love me, and that I’m good, but that won’t last. More close calls will happen. Maybe I’ll kill a dog that runs up to me for pets. Maybe I’ll kill a child that runs into me without looking. Maybe I’ll come close to killing your roommate, or your brother, or one of your students at school, and you’ll realise that you can’t love someone who can’t interact with any living thing in the world without a life-or-death level threat. I’m supposed to be held at a distance—that’s the whole point.”

Doyoung leaves his chair, getting to his knees in front of Jeno and taking both his hands. He lifts one up, kissing it. “Not to me. I love you. I love you. I love you. I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear.”

“You can’t—”

“Just because other people haven’t tried doesn’t mean I can’t. I already do. I love you, Jeno. I want to take you to nice places, so you can see the world. I want to hold you in the night, and know you’re rested and happy. I want to make meals with you, I want to come home and talk to you about your day. I want to buy you nice things. I want to see you graduate and grow into yourself. I want to brag about you to all my friends. Do you know why?”

He shakes his head, unable to trust his voice.

“Because I love you.”

“But I can’t—” he struggles to take in a breath. “I can’t give you half of that. I can’t go out to nice places with you and try new things. I can’t meet your friends. We can’t adopt a dog, I can’t go to shops with you and pick out furniture or bedsheets or groceries. You make me want these things—you make me think I can have them. But I can’t. And all I’ll ever do is hold you back from having a normal life.”

Doyoung stands, resting against the table so that he can cup Jeno’s cheek. “I know.”

He stares blankly. “What?”

“I know. I’ve already thought about all of that. And more than anything, I still love you. I want you more than I want any of that. But if you don’t want to do anything together, that’s okay. We can stay as we are now. But if you’d let me…”

He pulls Jeno’s hands so that he stands up from his chair. He feels warm and heady, standing just a little shorter than Doyoung.

“I want you too,” he says, breathless. “More than anything.”

“Yeah?” Doyoung’s voice goes small and happy, like he hadn’t expected Jeno to say that.

“Can I really love you too?” he asks, and Doyoung brings him into a hug, arms wrapping firmly around him. Jeno goes so easily, it’s like he’s been waiting for this all along.

“You can,” he promises, murmuring into his ear. “You can have me. I’m here.”

He clasps him right back, feeling like he might cry again, if he has any tears left. They stay there for a long while, comfortable.

“Hey,” Doyoung says when he pulls back. His eyes are red too, but he’s smiling. “I’ve only got another week left until the new term starts. Let me take you somewhere for a while—let’s get away from all this and just spend time together.”

“Where will we go?”

“I have a friend who rents out a holiday home in the mountains in Gangwon. No one around. He lets friends stay there if no one books it for a few nights. We’ll be safe, I promise you.”

He runs his hands along Doyoung’s arms, not wanting to let go of him. “I haven’t been on a holiday since I was small.”

“Then it’s about time, don’t you think?” Doyoung says, pinching the soft lobe of Jeno’s ear. “Just a few nights. I’ll sort everything out, okay?”

He finds himself nodding—and actually smiling at the prospect. “I can’t believe you want me.”

Doyoung places one hand on Jeno’s waist, running it around until it’s flat against his back, pulling Jeno in close. “I do,” he says, closing the gap to place a gentle kiss on Jeno’s mouth.

The contact sparks an electric fizz in his veins, spreading a pleasant heat, making his heart thump. When Doyoung pulls back, he chases the feeling, and Doyoung smiles brightly at him, kissing him again chastely. It leaves residual warmth on his lips.

“You’re so cute.”

“That was my first kiss,” he pouts. “You have to let me do better.”

“You’ve got plenty of time,” Doyoung promises. “And you don’t have to impress me.”

“Just one more kiss?”

Doyoung presses another kiss to his mouth. And another. And Jeno giggles, and kisses him again.

-

menaces to society inc.

yellow: jeno please reply as soon as you get this

yellow: we’ve seen the video

yellow: we just want to know you’re okay

hey junnie

nyang: god jeno where have you been

nyang: are you okay? have you heard from dart?

i have a lot to update you on

it was a rough night but doyoung was with me and i’m okay now

i have to send dart a report but that’s it

nyang: that’s it???

yeah doyoung spoke to them apparently

makes sense they’d trust the word of a first responder more than me

yellow: the advantages of having one of them on your side…

nyang: i feel like i’m coming back from the verge of a heart attack

doyoung isn’t one of them, he treats me so different

he actually um

well, we’re together now

yellow: WHAT

nyang: OH MY GOD

nyang: MY BABY IS GROWING UPPPP

yellow: how on earth did that happen??

we talked a lot

like i said i’ll catch you up on everything

but we’re going to spend a few days in the mountains before the schools start again

i think i’m going to be okay you guys

yellow: gonna cry brb

nyang: i want to hear everything! i’m so happy for you jeno

nyang: you deserve this

yeah?

nyang: yeah you really do

thanks ☺️ i love you guys

i’m so excited

hey now you guys can be as coupley as you want in front of me!

yellow: we what

nyang: what are you talking about

ummm…

haha gotta go

haechan

hey so

idk if doyoung has updated you but your dream came true last night

i guess you probably heard my monitors

sorry about that and thanks for not calling DART

i’ve just talked to doyoung about this but

next time you see something major like this i’d appreciate being in the loop

i know you were acting with best intentions but i’m still my own person. i have agency to make decisions about my own actions

if you’re going to tell anyone, tell me

Hey Jeno

This is like the nicest way you could’ve put this all things considered

Heard loud and clear my good sir

I’m sorry about that, I’ve never had a dream about potential manslaughter before

Wasn’t sure what to do

Doyoung is still my older brother you know

I was going to him more for advice than to check on you or anything

i understand

i get it. we’ve all learned from this experience

Yeah

I’m sorry about the video and stuff that’s shitty

But hey at least most comments are siding with you on this one

they are?

Yeah. What those guys did was obviously wrong, and they would’ve been at fault if someone got hurt

Everyone sees that

You were just trying to get a nice walk in the middle of the night

huh

that’s new

You should take a look man

Hey congrats on the new relationship status btw

omg he told you already?

i guess i already told Jaemin and Renjun

You told them and not me? Offended

No, Doyoung didn’t tell me shit

I just saw in my dream last night you were climbing a mountain

Doyoung only takes people he really likes to Jaehyun’s holiday house so

Figured either he’s made it official or he’s about to

☺️ is that true?

Trust me dude

He’s serious about you

It’s kinda nice that I’m seeing your future now. Hyung has had 1 bf and 1 gf in his life and I didn’t care for them much so I didn’t dream about them

Dreaming your future is close to dreaming Doyoung’s cause you’re so entwined

I always knew I would find a way to get around his stupid power

😅 why is that kind of cute

Don’t call me that.

Anyway have fun on your trip

Send pics

won’t you see it anyway in your dreams?

also can i add you to a proper chat with jaem and renjun?

Not necessarily the pretty bits!!

Gonna try really hard not to see any hanky panky

And yes please put me in the group chat

😅 😅 reconsidering…

NO YOU AREN’T

00z

yellow: JENO COME BACK HERE

yellow: EXPLAIN YOURSELF

nyang: owo new chat?

haechan: Hey fellas

haechan: Tell papi everything

haechan: What has Jeno done now

i’ll leave him to you guys…

gotta pack sorry!

yellow: JENOOO

-

When he’s all packed and headed into the elevator, he realises there’s a small problem.

“Hyung,” he starts when Doyoung picks up the phone, the background engine sound telling him he’s already en route. “How are we going to do this? Even in the middle of nowhere, I can’t take my monitors off. If I get spotted, it’ll mean a big mark on my record. Especially after the events of yesterday.”

“I told you I would sort it, didn’t I? Trust me. Don’t take off your monitors before getting in the car, just get in, alright? I’ll be there in five.”

Jeno heads down and waits patiently for the four minutes it takes Doyoung to arrive. When he pulls up, Jeno loads his bag into the back, careful to make sure his dog keyring doesn’t get trapped underneath it. Then he hesitantly slides into the passenger seat as requested, and is surprised when his monitors make no sound.

When he looks over, Doyoung is smiling, and holding up jazz hands. On his wrists there are a pair of DA class monitor bands, except they glow blue instead of green.

He tilts his head and makes a little noise of surprise, reaching around to put his seatbelt on. “Where did you get those? Don’t they only give them to carers of DA class kids?”

“Not just carers. They give them to the children and partners of DA class adults, too. I’ve always had them for going out with my parents, I just needed to ask DART to sync them with yours.” He reaches across to put a hand on Jeno’s thigh. Jeno puts a hand over his, and their monitors clink together, but there’s not a single peep of the alarm.

His smile grows. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

Doyoung laughs. “You’d better believe it, baby.”

He feels like a kid again, sat in Doyoung’s passenger seat and watching the world go by, listening to Doyoung sing along to the radio. He’s been in very few cars in the last ten years—DART prefer vans—and it’s something of a novelty to be in one beside someone he loves.

The drive takes over an hour, and that’s to get most of the way there. They stop at one of the quiet walking trails at lunch time, Doyoung taking Jeno’s hand and slinging a backpack on, leading him up the trail.

He’s nervous at first—there’s no way Doyoung can know a public trail like this is completely free of other people. But the further they go without seeing anyone, just birds and squirrels and rustling trees, the more confidence he gains, and the more he can let himself enjoy their surroundings.

He’d forgotten about the smog cities have over them, and how different it feels to be out somewhere so green like this. It’s warm and bright, especially under his long sleeved shirt and gloves, but just the feel of a fresh breeze on his face and the sound of birds chirping in the trees is enough to make him feel connected with the outdoors, for the first time in a long time.

They find a clearing to have lunch in that’s high enough to give them a view of the surrounding mountains. Doyoung lays out a classic checked picnic blanket, sits down, and starts to unpack little boxes of kimbap, mandoo and garan mari.

“Aren’t you joining me?” he asks, picking out two bottles of beer.

Jeno realises he’s stood watching him with a dumb grin on his face. “Sure.”

“How good of you,” Doyoung says, eyebrows raised. “Gloves off for lunch, don’t eat with those on.”

He looks down at his trusty cycling gloves, and looks around them. They’ve truly seen no one else in the fourty-five minutes they’ve been here—and his monitors are still on. Nothing around here to hurt, so…

He takes them off, and accepts a little plate Doyoung hands him. After picking a few things out to put on his plate, he puts it down on the blanket, and reaches over to run his hands through the grass.

He can’t help himself. His power only extends to things that are sentient—to his knowledge, his touch doesn’t hurt plants or vegetation. The few opportunities he can safely do so, he loves the feel of blades of grass between his fingers, or a soft petal on his fingertip.

“Why did you do that before eating your food?” Doyoung says, naggy. Jeno withdraws, but is too pleased to feel admonished. “Here, have some hand sanitiser.”

“I’ll do it again after,” he says happily, accepting the gel as Doyoung complains that’s not what he meant.

It’s the most peaceful he’s felt in a long, long time, sitting here watching the view, eating Doyoung’s home-cooked food.

After lunch, Doyoung poses in front of the view and guides Jeno on how to take flattering pictures of him. Then he insists Jeno can’t waste his pretty face and has to go in front of the camera too, and puts gentle hands on his arms and waist to angle him right, instructing him to look down the camera lens with feigned indifference.

“You look amazing,” Doyoung coos, clicking away and taking probably twenty pictures in a row. “Can I post these? I’m desperate to make Ten jealous.”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “I’m only going to send them to Renjun and Jaemin. And Donghyuck, I guess.”

“Oh, you’re speaking to my brother?”

“Yeah, he’s fun. And the other two like him, so. Kind of sucks we live next door and can’t actually do anything together, though.”

Doyoung hums, then pauses for a moment too long.

Jeno ambles back over to him, sitting back down on the picnic blanket. “What is it?”

Doyoung hesitates for a second, tongue caught between his teeth. “Did you know that your ability isn’t always active?”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

Doyoung hums, and Jeno reaches out to hold his hand. Doyoung accepts easily, patting it with his other. “I mean that, my ability is the involuntary type. It’s not always active, but I don’t have to consciously activate it, either. When I’m resisting someone’s ability, I get tingles in my fingertips. I can tell when I’m around people who have constantly active abilities, and those who turn it on and off consciously, or subconsciously, based on how my ability feels. When we first met, I thought yours was the type that’s always active, because I would feel it a lot. But over time, as you got comfortable… I’ve been feeling it a lot less.”

Jeno frowns. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would I choose to activate my power?”

“I’m not saying you choose it. Subconscious activation very much exists—a kind of defense mechanism of the body, like mine. But when your defenses are down, when you feel safe… your power doesn’t activate. I can tell.”

He shakes his head. “That can’t be right. When I was at the DART center, they did all kinds of experiments to measure my ability. I tried different medication, I had therapy and I learned meditation and I was trained by other people who had touch-based abilities. They would test me with live mice all the time—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to pick them up, just to feel them die. I hated it. If I could’ve stopped it, I would.”

Doyoung’s brows are deeply furrowed. “They did that to you?”

Jeno shrugs, looking away at the view. “It was all to try and reclassify me as a Five. But none of it worked.”

“Subconscious activation is really hard to control. I’ve never been able to turn mine off, either. I just thought you should know. Maybe one day, with the right help, you could hang out with friends without all the fear.”

He pulls at a blade of grass. With his gloves back on, it doesn’t feel very good. “I wouldn’t bet on it. I’ll never not be afraid of my power, even if I magically get complete control over it.”

Doyoung rubs a hand up his back and kisses his cheek. Jeno leans into him until he topples to one side, laying across Doyoung’s lap. “I’ll still love you either way.”

He runs his fingers through Jeno’s hair, and Jeno sighs, relaxing into him. “How long can we stay here? I really like the view.”

“As long as you like. We should try and get to the house while it’s still light, though. The view from the pool is best at sunset.”

He sits back up so fast he nearly head-butts Doyoung. “There’s a pool?”

“Yeah?” Doyoung says, surprised. “You like swimming?”

“I haven’t been in ages,” he says, memories coming back of hotel pools—holidays with his family—swimming being the one thing he could do better than Yeeun, and he never let her forget it. “I used to love swimming.”

“Then we should try it out together.”

He shakes Doyoung’s arm in excitement. “Please.”

“Cute,” Doyoung says, pulling him in for a kiss, all smiles. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.”

Jeno beams at him, leaning in, and Doyoung laughs before kissing him again. “Oh, no. I’ve reminded you how much you like this, haven’t I?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, coming in for his own kiss, pressing close, pulling them both down onto the picnic blanket.

-

The house is bigger than he’d expected. A lot bigger. It looks like it could sleep about eight people from the outside, with a pool, decking area, grassy slope with a badminton net at the bottom, and a stunning view of the mountains from the large windows. He pokes his head into every room like an excited child, running up the stairs, admiring the open view of the forest from the bathroom windows, face and hands pressed up against the glass.

Doyoung brings in their bags and smiles fondly, as Jeno touches the surfaces, and picks up the books, and bounce-tests the couch and large bed in the master bedroom.

“I’ve never been somewhere as nice as this,” he tells Doyoung, when he finds Jeno starfished on the huge bed. “Is your friend rich?”

“He comes from a well-off family,” Doyoung says, dropping their bags and bending over to unzip his. “Hey. I bought you something.”

“You did? You brought me here to do all this and still got me a gift?”

“I thought you might need it. You don’t own very much summer clothing, do you?”

“Summer clothing usually means showing skin, Hyung. That’s like, the opposite of everything I’ve ever been taught.”

“Well, you can’t go in the pool in jeans.” He presents from his bag two pieces of shiny fabric—one white, one black—and throws them to Jeno. “I hope they fit.”

Jeno sits up and holds them out in front of him. When they fold out, he realises it’s a pair of black shorts, and a white sports tank-top. He stands, holding them against him. They look right.

“These are really for me?”

“If you like them,” Doyoung says, sitting on the bed to look up at Jeno. “If you don’t, don’t worry about it.”

“I… I’ve never worn anything like this before. I’ll try them on.”

“Okay. I’ll see you out there.”

Doyoung picks out a pair of shorts for himself, and leaves the bedroom. Jeno pulls off his long sleeved shirt, running his hands through the light material before pulling it on over his head. His trousers come off too, replaced by the shorts.

He stands in front of the full-length mirror, turning and looking at himself. His skin is pale from how rarely it sees the sun. The tank top dips enough at the sides to accentuate his arms and chest, showing off how small his waist is.

He’s not used to others seeing his body like this. But something about Doyoung buying this for him—wanting to see him in it—is exciting.

Doyoung is sitting at the edge of the pool when he comes out. He looks up and smiles when Jeno emerges, barefoot, eyes shyly on the water.

“You’re really something to look at,” he says, and Jeno feels himself get warmer.

“Not in the hideous way, right?”

“Definitely the opposite,” he says, kicking his legs in the water. “You coming in?”

Jeno smiles, sets himself, and does a running jump into the pool. He doesn’t get to see the resulting splash douse Doyoung, but he sees the results when he comes back up from under the water, Doyoung laughing and shaking off his hair.

“I’ll get you for that!” he says, slipping from the side and into the water. Jeno laughs, and ducks away too.

Swimming is as easy as he remembers, but faster now, his body stronger. He doesn’t have any problem swimming away from Doyoung, and finds he loves the feeling of immersing himself in the water—the way it’s completely soundless, the way he’s suspended in the space around him.

He lets Doyoung catch up with him after a while, just to see what he’ll do. Laughably, he puts his arms around Jeno’s shoulders to try and force him under the water in punishment. It’s not much of a competition—he can push right back, and Doyoung goes under instead, and he triumphantly swims away again.

The sun sets in the time they spend in the pool, sky going from blue to pink to yellow. Doyoung’s right—the sun sets right between the mountains on either side of them, so the view from the edge of the pool is stunning. Worn out from play-fighting and swimming and splashing, they rest at the edge together to watch the last of the sun disappear.

“I love this,” he says, unprompted. “I forgot how much I like swimming. I forgot how much I love the outdoors. I forgot what it was like to be free to mess about with someone.”

“I’ve never seen you more lively than you’ve been today. I think you lost a part of yourself sometime in the last ten years, hm?”

He rests his chin against the poolside, watching the golden clouds without directly looking at the dying sun. “I knew that already, I think. But it was easier not to think about it, not to miss all this stuff too much. I thought it would never be an option for me again.”

He turns to face Doyoung, hair wet, odd droplets of water running down his temples. His eyes shine golden in the light. “I can’t wait to find out what other things you like. I can’t wait for us both to learn about you together.”

Jeno pushes himself up to lean over and kiss him, slowly, deeply. Touching Doyoung is special, and he thinks he’ll never get over just how incredible it feels. But having his attention—having his affection, having him care deeply about Jeno, and give him all these things that make him happy… that’s an indescribable honour. That’s what would kill him, if it was snatched away.

Doyoung places a hand to the back of his head, gently supporting him there. Jeno puts a hand to his side to pull him closer and kiss him longer.

“I love you,” he says, when he pulls back. “Thank you.”

Doyoung’s smile is the best gift of the day.

-

Doyoung cooks for them that night. Once Jeno has showered off the chlorine and shaken his hair out in the huge bathroom, he joins Doyoung in the kitchen to loiter unhelpfully, wrapping his arms around Doyoung’s waist and kissing the back of his neck.

“After dinner, baby, let’s not make an accident in the kitchen right now,” Doyoung says, but only after melting into it for a moment, a little breathless with surprise.

They eat dinner on the decking, the sky darkening by the minute, the lights outside the house casting them in a soft yellow glow. They’re sat on a roomy cushioned seating area, which gives Jeno the space to throw one leg over Doyoung’s as he eats, chewing happily and complimenting his cooking. They pour out some wine, and Jeno quickly gets tipsy enough to begin kissing down Doyoung’s neck, just because he wants to, and it’s right there.

“If you don’t stop that, I’ll have my way with you right here, Lee Jeno.”

“What’s stopping you?” he murmurs, planting a hand behind Doyoung’s head and slipping his other under his shirt. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“You are mouthy for someone who had his first kiss yesterday,” Doyoung gasps, scandalised. Jeno lifts his head to smile innocently at him, but doesn’t move his hand from where it’s pressed against the flat of Doyoung’s stomach. “Not yet, alright? If you still want to tomorrow night, when you’ve not had so much to drink, we can. For now, I brought you out here to show you something.”

He removes Jeno’s hand from his waist gently, but stays holding onto it, leading Jeno away from the dinner table and down the grassy slope.

“What is it?” he asks, skipping along to the bottom obediently, clutching Doyoung’s hand. His every nerve feels buzzed from the alcohol and the promise of Doyoung touching him more, in a way no one has ever touched him before… but he’s intrigued, too. “Is there a boat here, or something? Or like, a sauna?”

“Nothing quite as glamourous as that.” When he looks back at Jeno, Jeno can just make out his smile in the dark. “Come here.”

Doyoung leads them to where a group of trees circle an empty patch of grass. Then he sits down in the middle of it, and lays out on his back.

Jeno watches him with surprise for a moment, then does the same.

It’s the first time he notices the stars.

The sky has deepened into the kind of endless navy-black you only get when there’s no trace of the sun. In it, the stars look like small, priceless gems, set into an endless tapestry. They’re so incredibly bright, this far away from civilisation, that there seems to be an infinitesimal amount of them.

“Woah.” He doesn’t know how long he looks at them before speaking properly. This is a sight he could take in for hours.

“You think you can count them all out here?”

“You only have to ask,” Jeno says, pointing as if to start counting. “One, two, three…”

“Ah, you know what? It doesn’t matter,” Doyoung says. Their hands are still clasped together, and he brings Jeno’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “They’re all yours anyway.”

He smiles, embarrassed. “I don’t think the universe made all these just for me. How could I appreciate all of them?”

“Then you should at least have one. Look, pick one out, and we’ll make it yours.”

Jeno tears his eyes away, and props himself up on one elbow to look over Doyoung. “I have something way better. I don’t want anything else.”

Doyoung can’t help but grow a wide smile, putting his hand to his forehead with an exaggerated sigh. “After I went to all this trouble of rounding them up for you, too.”

Jeno leans down, and kisses him. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Doyoung kisses him back. “Lee Jeno, I think the universe made you for me, so we could complement each other perfectly. So I could love you like you deserve.”

“Doesn’t that mean the universe made you for me?”

Doyoung shrugs, hooking an arm around Jeno’s shoulders to pull him down, until they’re chest to chest. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. The stars will love a pretty boy who asks for it so gently. He deserves it.”

“Even if they’re the only thing that can love him?” Jeno asks, their lips just touching as he speaks, running his fingertips up the curve of Doyoung’s jaw. “Even if the boy doesn’t know how to love anything but the stars?”

“For as long as the boy wishes it,” Doyoung says, cupping Jeno’s cheek. “For as long as he needs, wants, and loves the stars, they will infinitely love him back.”

Jeno gives in, pressing his whole body against Doyoung’s, hands on his, knees knocking, cheek to cheek. He kisses the skin of Doyoung’s shoulder before resting his cheek there, and Doyoung threads his fingers through his hair, a gentle caress in the gentle night.