Chapter Text
Gunwook was glad he looked older than his age. He really was. Even at fifteen, because of his height and naturally athletic build, people mistook him for an adult. Some people even told him to go to the military. Everyone assumed he was fine on his own–and he was fine. He was glad nobody asked questions when he applied for jobs. Labor jobs were never very picky about their workers as long as they looked strong–and Gunwook did look strong. He was strong. He had to be.
With the sudden death of his father, and his mother’s discovery of his debts and subsequent disappearance, Gunwook had become responsible for his father’s debts and his own living expenses. He’d dropped out of school without a word, leaving behind friends and teammates, his former life and responsibilities as center forward, dance vice captain, and class president.
Now his days for the past year had been spent bent under sacks of cement on construction sites or carrying heavy boxes in warehouses. He mainly lived in saunas and PC cafes, unable to gather any money that wasn’t immediately taken by the loan sharks. The debt didn’t seem to be decreasing either–interest kept accumulating almost as fast as Gunwook could earn money.
But it was doable. Gunwook was old enough, strong enough, and he was doing fine.
His mom was probably out there, too, working to save up money to pay the debt. She hadn’t left him completely alone, he was sure.
A year wasn’t that big of a deal. He was used to people thinking he was older than he was, anyway–if he was a year behind in school, it would just look right. He would go back to school soon, when mom came back.
He finished his convenience-store triangle kimbap, stomach still feeling empty, and pushed out the door to the sound of chimes. It was 4:48, and he would have to hurry to be on time to his warehouse shift.
–
Hanbin woke to see Zhang Hao’s peaceful face across from him–a sight he would never take for granted. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the older boy’s forehead. He stirred, but didn’t wake. Hanbin slipped out of bed and began to get ready for the day–a quick shower, dressing in a suit, eating some toast and juice. Just as he was finishing his glass, Zhang Hao stumbled into the kitchen, bleary-eyed. Hanbin grinned at him foolishly, setting down his cup and welcoming the boy into his arms. Zhang Hao sighed into his shoulder.
“Why is it so early?” he mumbled.
“Sorry for waking you,” Hanbin said, sincere. “But the shipment is coming in early and I want to pick it up personally.”
“The prints?”
“Yeah. Last month’s edition was late because of the delivery driver, so this time I’m picking up a few boxes myself so we have some to distribute at the gala tonight.”
The model nodded in understanding. “Alright. Be safe.”
Hanbin kissed him quickly. “I will. Go back to sleep; it’s only five in the morning.”
Zhang Hao groaned, shuffling sleepily towards the bedroom. His usual alarm was set for 9:30 am, so he should have enough time to get back to sleep.
Hanbin made sure he had his keys and wallet, taking the elevator down to the parking garage. He was lucky to have become successful at such a young age, as the editor of Zero, a fashion and arts-focused magazine. He was also extremely lucky to have met Zhang Hao after seeing photos Matthew had taken of him playing the violin for a violin-inspired edition. In only a matter of months, Zhang Hao’s one-off modeling job had become a career, and somehow the two had become practically inseparable, although they had yet to put a name to what they were. Hanbin was content with that, for now. More often than not, he woke up with the beautiful boy beside him, and that was all anyone could ask for, right? He didn’t think he could dare to hope that Zhang Hao loved Hanbin as much as Hanbin loved him–but it was enough.
Hanbin was happier than he had ever been in his life, surrounded by friends who were equally happy and successful.
He realized he was nearing his exit to the warehouse, and turned on his signal to turn onto a different street. His light was clearly green, but Hanbin was forced to slam on the brakes when he processed the sight of someone in a highlighter-yellow vest in front of his headlights. The car screeched to a stop, Hanbin bracing against the steering wheel, breath knocked out of him. He felt an impact and was scrambling for his seatbelt as soon as he shook off the momentary daze. He pushed open the door and rushed around to the front of the car, seeing a man sprawled in the crosswalk–the signal of which was still red.
But whose fault it was was not important at this moment. Later.
Hanbin quickly crouched down. “Hello? Sir? Are you alright?”
The man rolled over, and Hanbin was surprised to see he was younger than he thought–perhaps even a teenager, although Hanbin guessed he must look young for his age, as he was working this type of job.
His eyes were open, but Hanbin was far from relieved.
He saw the young man’s–boy’s–eyes flick between his face, the car’s blinding headlights, and the red cross signal. He sat up, a bit shakily, and bowed from a seated position.
“I am so sorry,” he said, voice rough and strained. “I–I wasn’t looking where I was going; I caused you inconvenience–”
“Woah woah woah,” Hanbin interrupted, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You just got hit by a car. My car. This is not the time to apologize! Are you alright?”
The boy nodded quickly, trying to get to his feet. Hanbin wanted him to sit down, but it would make sense to get out of the road, so he instead supported him, helping him walk back to the sidewalk. He seemed to be wobbly, raising Hanbin’s concern.
“I think you should go to a hospital,” he said. “Even just in case,” he added, sensing this boy was the stubborn type.
He shook his head, just once. “I have to go to work; I’m already late. Sorry, once again.”
The crosswalk signal changed, the boy shrugged off Hanbin’s arm, and he started jogging away, only slightly wobbly, before Hanbin could protest.
He quickly got back in his car, moving it out of traffic’s way, and looked around for the direction the boy had gone.
He was nowhere to be seen.