Chapter Text
Once upon a time, in a place neither heaven nor hell, exists a majestic island where souls reside. Every soul that lives there are meant to be sent on Earth. Their mission: fill the said planet with love. Sounds basic, but it actually isn't. Truthfully, the success rate is low. Those souls who fail, however, have nothing to worry about for they can still try until they triumph. They have at least five chances to do so.
Those who want to live— or live again— as a human, should only abide one rule. It's fairly simple, really. Nothing extreme. Nothing life-threatening.
One just have to wait for their turn. That is all.
Lee Changsub happens to violate that rule when he cut the line of souls going to Earth. He's supposed to descend on a much later time but Yook Sungjae, who's about to depart the island, begs him to stick beside him to ensure a life together as humans. How can they spread love on Earth if they aren't by each other's side to begin with— that's their reason.
Sadly, the Divine Being thinks otherwise. So, with her power and authority, she cast a curse on Sungjae and Changsub. A curse that will put the depth of their love to the test.
Changsub, unfortunately, acquired the severe end of the curse. In every life he will live as a human, the memories of the life he previously spent will stay, making him remember everything while Sungjae remains with nothing.
***
One:
"Your Highness, please get back here this instant!"
"No!" Sungjae sticks out his tongue at the servants running after him before he speeds up. His blue gonryongpo flutters against the wind, silky and crease free thanks to the hard work of the very same servants who are trying to catch him. "I'm going to the lake to study! Don't bother me!"
Of course that's a lie. In actuality, he's going to take a nap in the scholar's hanok by the lake. It's two in the afternoon— exactly the best time to sleep.
"But the Queen has prepared a feast for you, your Highness!" Shouts Eunuch Seo, the chief servant, who looks like he's about to have an asthma attack any moment now from running after him. "She wants to have a private talk with you! Please cooperate, your Highness!"
"I am still full! I don't need a feast!" He answers back a bit louder since he's already a few hundred meters away from his servants. It's true, though. He just had a meal with Eunuch Lee Changsub (which is prohibited, by the way, but what could they possibly have done if he— the prince himself— wanted to share his food with his personal servant?), so stuffing his stomach again isn't very appealing to him now. "I'll apologize to my mother later, I promise! Just let me be!"
Sungjae turns to the left, and luckily, the hallway is empty. He dashes through the corridor, determined to escape the Queen's hands just to get his sweet, sweet nap. As he's about to turn to the right, a familiar pale and round faced man clad in a green servant hanbok almost clashes against him, good thing his reflexes are quick. Grinning wickedly upon realizing who he just bumped into, Sungjae automatically grabs the guy's shoulders, maneuvering the poor servant forward and further away from Eunuch Seo and his army of eunuchs. Fortunately, Sungjae spots a room with a door left ajar, so without much thinking, he quickly shoves the guy and himself inside.
"Your Highness!" Eunuch Lee loudly gasps, pupils shaking in shock. "What is happening—"
"Shh! Be quiet!" Sungjae makes sure to lock the door before throwing Eunuch Lee a sharp look. "And what are you doing in the hallways alone? I thought you're cleaning my room? I believe I told you to clean my room!"
Nope, he's not pouting right now. Definitely not. Eunuch Lee is just so stubborn it makes him want to throw a tantrum sometimes (all the time).
"Lim Suksu— the head cook of the King— asked for my help, so I went to assist him first." The older bows down in apology, and then he fixes Sungjae with a curious gaze. "But your Highness, I just cleaned your room this morning. Did you perhaps make a mess out of it again? A prince should be organized, your Highness. I guess I failed in teaching you—"
Sungjae releases an exasperated scoff. "It's not that messy. Besides, I wanted you to find the sweet bread I got when I went outside to stroll the market with my sister. It's really delicious, so I wanted you to try it."
"Servants shouldn't eat the food of the royal—"
"Blah. Blah. Blah. Eunuch Lee." Sungjae sighs in frustration as he rolls his eyes. Here they go again with this Royal-Servant talk. "Do I look like I care about these rules since you've known me?"
"You really should start caring about them now—"
"I want to share things with you, and you know that. I already told you that. Countless of times." Sungjae crosses his arms over his chest. He's beginning to get a little annoyed because they're discussing this again. "It's just food. It's just bread. You know how I allowed no other servants to go inside my room aside from you so you can eat freely. You can sample the bread all you want. I bought it for you."
The room they're currently into is quite dimmed due to the closed windows and absence of lamps, but the light tinged of pink that colors the Eunuch's face doesn't escape Sungjae's observant eyes. In fact, he's waiting for it. He always waits for it because he likes it when it happens. That's why he always does things that he thinks pleases Eunuch Lee— even if he breaks a hundred set of rules this kingdom has imposed on him. The satisfaction he feels every time is worth the punishment for, although Eunuch Lee doesn't need to know that.
"O-Okay." His servant whispers in defeat, blinking rapidly as he bows down his head while a small smile plays upon his lips. It takes a few moments for Eunuch Lee to come to his senses, and now he's frowning at Sungjae again. "But, your Highness, why are you running away from Eunuch Seo? Did you perhaps do something mischievous again?"
Sungjae almost takes offense at the blatant accusation in Eunuch Lee's voice, but he knows those words wouldn't come if not from experience. See, crowned prince Yook Sungjae isn't the most obedient and disciplined prince out there, and this eunuch right here has been the unfortunate living witness to that ever since he started working in the palace years ago. Countless of his other ex-personal servants may have given up on him because of his stubbornness, but Eunuch Lee didn't, that's why he became Sungjae's ultimate favorite.
"I didn't do anything." Sungjae frowns back before taking a careful peek outside. The servants are nowhere in sight. At last! "I just wanted to sleep in the scholars hanok but they keep on pestering me!"
"Why don't you sleep in your own room, your Highness? Your bed is far more comfortable than the floor in the scholar's hanok."
"It's a long story. I'll tell you when we get there. Let's go. " He smiles at the man in front of him before grabbing him by the wrist. He's about to exit the room when the eunuch stops him from doing so. "Why?“
"Lim Suksu is waiting for me outside the palace gate." Eunuch Lee bows down in apology once again, a worried crooked smile is now adorning his face. "I'm supposed to help him with the poultry products today—"
"Now what, are you telling me that you like that royal head cook more than me?" Sungjae snaps at the other, an action he didn't mean to do, but still did anyway. "That you'll choose him more than me?"
He can't help it, honestly. This childish possessiveness over Eunuch Lee sometimes consumes his thoughts in a not so healthy way, resulting his body to react quite immaturely. He's aware how this problem of his keeps worsening the longer they spend time together, but it's hard to keep a tight reign on his emotions most specially when others try to separate him from the said servant. He doesn't know why he always feels like he'll die if Eunuch Lee isn't within his arm's reach. It sounds dramatic, but it's the truth.
"Your Highness, what are you saying!" Gasps Eunuch Lee, eyes wide in disbelief, but he can also certainly see the beginnings of a smile on his face. "You can't be serious with that question. As a palace servant, It is my job to help—"
"Me! You need to help the Prince!" Sungjae interjects, straightening his back and holding his chin up high as if asking the other to contradict him. "You are my personal servant, and not the head cook's! So I'm ordering you to come with me to the scholar's hanok! Now!"
It's an absolute garbage request— but it's Sungjae's last resort to keep his favorite servant by his side. If his authority as the crowned prince is the only way to win this petty game of push and pull between them right now, then he will unapologetically use it even if Eunuch Lee brands him as a cunning jerk for the rest of his life. Sungjae will just make it up to him forever.
"Of course, your Highness." There is now a faint smirk on the other's lips. Like Eunuch Lee can't be fooled by his authoritarian facade. Like he can see right through his soul. Like he can just recognize the desperation behind his words. "I shall accompany you to the scholar's hanok now. This way, please."
"V-Very well." Sungjae clears his throat before trailing behind Eunuch Lee, suddenly feeling flustered. He can sense the heat coloring his cheeks, good thing the servant isn't looking at him or else he wouldn't know how to act. Despite all the turmoil happening in him though, Sungjae's chest feels incredibly light.
A comfortable silence accompanies them as they walk towards the scholar's hanok, and it puts a smile on Sungjae's face. This is one of the reasons why he prefers to be with Eunuch Lee more than anyone else in this kingdom.
With Eunuch Lee, there's no suffocating pressure to impress certain family members or royal advisers. It isn't imperative to be prim and proper— whether in appearance, words, or actions. Above all, the gap in their social status is extremely miniscule. It's almost as if it's non-existent. When they are alone, there are no crowned prince and royal servant titles hanging by their necks. Instead, they are just two ordinary people trying to enjoy their own ordinary world, even if the said world is just a little hanok by the lake.
"The weather is nice today, don't you think?"
"It is, your Highness."
They talk about their day as soon they settle themselves inside the hanok. Eunuch Lee informs him that the palace servants are at their busiest these days because there will be an important announcement and celebration (they both don't have any idea what it is) in the coming days, and lazing around with Sungjae in this place when everyone else is working is basically neglect of duties. Sungjae chuckles at that before guaranteeing Eunuch Lee that being with the crowned prince is still his main duty, so it'd be okay.
In return, Sungjae finally explains to his servant the real reason why he decided to sleep here instead of his room. It's just simply because he wanted to breathe. Being a prince— all the responsibilities and demands that comes along with it— is taking a huge toll on him. It was bearable at first, but now the strain has reached past beyond his endurance when the bedroom that was once his source of comfort couldn't provide him not even an ounce of that any longer. That's why he opted to rest in a different place today. He just wants to know what it feels to be free even just for a moment.
"If you're going to be born again, your Highness," The servant speaks, breaking the thick silence surrounding them after his confession as they sit side by side on the floor, facing the lake front. "Would you still like to be the crowned prince?"
Sungjae gives Eunuch Lee a bewildered glance due to the unexpected query. The other just raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for him to answer. "Well..."
Well, he doesn't know. He gives himself time to process the question, to asses what he truly wants, but the only thing his brain is providing him as an answer is the image of the very same man right in front of him. Why? Sungjae stares at Eunuch Lee, long and hard.
Something in his head clicks, and the intensity of it almost knocks the wind out of him. Sungjae heaves a deep breath to organize his thoughts, and after a moment, he finally voices out his response.
"I... don't think I care if I'm going to be the crowned prince in my next life or not." Sungjae begins, voice deep and confident, his eyes never leaving Eunuch Lee. "If I were to be born again, I just wish I am your equal. If I am a crowned prince, then you should also be a crowned prince. Same goes whether I become a servant, or a kisaeng, or a palace guard, or a merchant— anything. I only hope that we have no disparity in our status. In that way... I— we— can be free... to do what we truly want."
Sungjae still catches the other's cheek turning crimson before they both look away from each other. A few moments of complete silence envelops them again, and Sungjae is actually starting to panic. Did he say something wrong? Was he being too straightforward? Should he just have answered vaguely? He turns to the other once more to take back what he said, anxiety almost wrecking his entire mind, but thank heavens Eunuch Lee eventually decides to speak.
And Sungjae's heart nearly bursts out of his chest with the way the other words his reply.
"I don't care, too, your Highness." Eunuch Lee softly chuckles, cheeks still red, eyes still focused on the lake. "I don't care whether I turn out to still be a servant in my next life. I wouldn't even mind if I become a speck of dust resting on top of your book shelf, your Highness. I just— if you were to be born again— I just wish I'm there. I just wish we'll exist in the same place, and in the same time frame. I'll be content with that, I guess."
And for the first time ever, Sungjae lets his emotions take control over him. No one is there to stop him, not even himself.
Sungjae reaches out for Eunuch Lee's hand before quickly interlacing their fingers. This makes the other face him, surprise evident in those beautiful eyes. He smiles at that, warm and tender, because Eunuch Lee is right. The feeling is totally mutual. Sungjae too, wouldn't mind being born again as anyone or anything, really, as long as Lee Changsub is there, too. As long as Sungjae is near him— breathing as a human or living as an inanimate object— that's pretty much enough.
Their time in the Scholar's Hanok is probably Sungjae's most favorite out of all the times they've spent together. There they get to hold each other's hands while sitting as their shoulders touch. They get to exchange meaningful looks and laugh at the silliest things. They get to talk about the rumors in the palace, the secret passageway under the King's castle leading to the village outside, and the library near the crowned prince's room where they can sneak out every night. They have so many plans to carry out, memories to create. If only he could freeze the time now, he would.
Sungjae would even offer his life to stop the clock from ticking if he knew that their moment in the scholar's hanok would be their last.
Because the day after that, the King and Queen made an announcement to the whole kingdom that he, the crowned prince, is now engaged to the crowned princess of the neighboring kingdom, and that their royal marriage will be held exactly a month from now.
Sungjae hadn't heard from Eunuch Lee since then. He was nowhere to be found no matter how hard he searched the whole palace. The truth, to Sungjae's dismay, was relayed to him a couple of days too late.
A group of eunuchs informed him (after he practically begged them on his knees) that his father personally dismissed Eunuch Lee from being his personal servant right after the marriage announcement. The King even threatened him to leave the castle for good, otherwise he will be executed. The world seemed to fall apart when Sungjae heard all that. What wrong did Eunuch Lee do to warrant such treatment? None of this should've happened to him. If anything, Sungjae would rather have it happen to himself instead.
However, the King's word is law. Sungjae's desperate appeals are nothing compared to his father's orders.
And so Sungjae got married right away, but not to the person his heart truly yearns for.
***
That was Changsub's first heartache in his first life. He had no idea that he was capable of getting hurt that much. It was antagonizing. He wanted to seek violence to retaliate.
Changsub felt horribly wronged. Therefore, he vowed to never live by the rules in his next life ever again. It wouldn't work in his favor, anyway.
***
Two:
It's not hard to spot a gangster from afar. Here are the four main things to notice:
1. The ugly haircut where their sides are shaved, leaving a pool of greasy hair on top of their heads.
2. The tacky suits paired with weirdly patterned button-ups, all tucked in barely washed black slacks.
3. The ever prominent tattoos—the larger, the better— that almost cover their entire bodies.
4. The big ol' gold accessories like chained necklaces, bracelets and rings, all obtained from either money extortion from poor market vendors, or from a successful blackmail of a hotshot politician.
And Gwangju doesn't have a shortage of these assholes. They are everywhere, spreading chaos and fear all over the town.
In fact, Sungjae happens to live near one.
"Oi, what are you looking at, pretty boy?"
Speaking of the devil.
Lee Changsub is the gangster Sungjae is referring to. He's everything described above, and he resides exactly next to his house. Their neighbors are terrified of him and to the possible crimes he'd commit once provoked. That's why nobody dares to talk to him. He's just their town's untouchable guy. Although, in Sungjae's one year of living here, he has yet to hear or see a single argument or brawl caused by Changsub. He seems pretty chill for a supposedly dangerous thug.
"You're still looking at me, pretty boy? You find me gorgeous now or what?"
Sungjae doesn't have any reasons to stare at him. Why would he do that? He just happens to be in his backyard, disposing his used coal briquettes when the gangster passed by his property. Sungjae just rolls his eyes as a response to the other's unfunny remark (in which he earns a cackle), then he continues stacking his briquettes like nothing happened.
After a few moments— when Sungjae is certain that Changsub isn't looking— he glances at him once more.
Judging from the fresh cuts and bruises on the thug's face, Sungjae assumes that Changsub had a rough day with whatever "work" he's done today. There's a sudden hollow in his chest upon realizing that someone might be badly injured— or worse, dead— dumped in one of their alleyways right now. That Changsub might be the one behind it, and Sungjae is just standing there doing nothing to alert the authorities.
What evidence do you even have, huh? He's innocent until proven guilty, remember. Says the small voice in his head, making Sungjae's brows furrow. That's right. Nothing has been confirmed yet. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. He's just probably overthinking things.
Sungjae immediately enters his home after finishing his task. Thinking about that gangster isn't good for his mental health, so he'll stop now.
Except Changsub won't let him do that.
It's fifteen past eleven in the evening. Sungjae's about to retreat to his bedroom when he hears a few knocks on his door. He's not expecting any visitors at this hour, so whoever's outside is automatically bad news. Slowly, Sungjae tiptoes his way to the front door, careful to not make any sound. He then takes a peek on the peephole to know who his late night visitor might be, and to his surprise, he sees none other than Lee Changsub standing outside. He should be scared— a literal gangster is knocking on his door in the wee hours of the evening— but... he just isn't. Well, at least not yet.
"Who is it?" Sungjae pretends to ask.
"Oi, pretty boy!" The thug greets him with his usual teasing tone, but he can also hear a subtle hint of sheepishness somewhere in there. "This is Changsub, your handsome neighbor."
"Is there a problem?" Sungjae keeps his voice steady and the door locked. He observes the other through the peephole, and he sees him scratching the back of his neck while sporting a crooked grin. "Do you need anything?"
Shuffling of feet and loud deep sighs can be heard outside his door. It's as if Changsub is contemplating whether he's going to be honest or just flee the scene at once. Sungjae swears he shouldn't laugh because there isn't anything funny in this situation. Heck, this might even be his last day on Earth if the man outside turns out be a real threat. But then again, for some unknown reason, he isn't scared. He feels so at ease to the point that the corners of his mouth are ticking upwards.
"I heard that you're a medical student." Changsub finally speaks after what seems like an eternity. His usually vicious tone has completely lost its poison. Now, he just sounds like an average Gwangju resident. "So, do you perhaps... have an... ice pack?"
It takes all of Sungjae's effort to not burst out laughing at the other's unexpected query. What kind of gangster looks for an ice pack? Aren't gangsters ought to endure all their wounds and broken bones? They should be able to defy all possible human health hazards since they're very strong. At least that's what they gloat in dramas and movies. But this man... Sungjae can only chuckle in silence.
"I have." Sungjae schools his expression into a serious one before opening the front door. Changsub must not be expecting this action because he jumps a little when the door creaks. "I'm not a medical student, though. I study physical therapy."
"Aren't those just the same?" Changsub murmurs before bowing in his direction. "Good evening, pretty boy. Thank you for your kindness, and I'm sorry for interrupting your sleep."
What kind of gangster bows and apologizes because they're about to invade other people's homes? This one must be a fraud.
"It's no problem. Come in." Sungjae invites Changsub in his house as he opens the door wider. He discreetly observes how the thug takes off his shoes before meekly walking inside. "Sit there. I'll just get the ice pack. I'll be right back."
"Okay."
It takes him a while to gather all the things he needs to tend to Changsub's wounds. He's planning to give it proper medical care, see. The gangster may marinade his face all he wants in a bucket full of ice, but his bruises will just continue causing problems if not treated and cleaned well. Changsub can take this as him being generous. However, to Sungjae, it's just him being logical. For it to not cause pain, and for Changsub to not bother him again about "ice packs", the problem should be fixed all at once.
"It must be hurting so bad if your last resort is to ask help from me." Sungjae casually comments as he walks back to his small living room, first aid kit and ice pack in hand. "Your left eye is already turning purple, did you know?"
"Aish. I told them to spare my face." Changsub grimaces, hand covering the said bruised eye. "How can people fall in love with me now? My face is all screwed up! This is all I have—"
"With all due respect, Sir, please stop talking." Scoffing at the gangster, Sungjae then drops his things on his coffee table with a loud thud before taking a seat beside his patient. "I'm going to clean your wounds first. This may sting a bit. Don't beat me up if it hurts, okay? This is all necessary before I give you the ice pack."
The thug howls with laughter, like he genuinely finds Sungjae's attempt at begging for his safety hilarious, only to immediately stop when the cut on his lips split even wider. "Ow, fuck." He hisses in pain, but that doesn't stop him from giving him a wink. "Don't worry, pretty boy. I won't lay a hand on you. I promise."
"I have a name." Sungjae sighs, now dabbing the peroxide-soaked cotton around the other's darkening eyes. "It's Yook Sungjae. I prefer if you call me that—"
"Duly noted, pretty boy— Ow, that stings! Don't rub the cotton too hard! All the liquid is seeping through my cuts!"
"Sorry." Sungjae feigns apology. He thinks Changsub deserves it.
After that, Sungjae is granted a moment of silence while cleaning the other's wounds. He does it methodically, his full concentration fixed on his patient. The silence, however, didn't last long. Changsub, apparently, can't shut up.
Even though he's in great pain, Changsub is still unbelievably talkative. Sungjae has never heard this guy talk this much to any of their neighbors ever, so this behavior catches him off-guard. Usually, Sungjae is the chatty one among his peers, but now he's forced to listen. It's not that bad though, since he doesn't have any tales to tell unlike Changsub here who seems to have plenty of it. Moreover, Sungjae's kind of curious about what truly happened to him, so he just lets him be.
Changsub reveals that the reason his face is all beaten up is because the "hyungnim" he was trying to guard got ambushed by the members of their rival gang. That it was an absolute riot. That he's super skilled at fighting, but when five huge goons gang up on you, all that's left for you to do is leave everything to Jesus. That it's terrifying to even think about how fucked up things could've been if his fellow thug pal didn't come to his rescue at the right time. That he'd probably be six feet under the ground right now and not inside pretty boy's humble home.
He tells all this to Sungjae like he's just talking about the weather.
"If you're scared to die because being a gangster is dangerous," Sungjae chimes in before Changsub begins another story, his fingers now gently applying the anti-bacterial ointment on his cheeks. "Then why still be a gangster? Can't you just leave or something?"
"You make it sound so easy, pretty boy." Changsub tries to chuckle without opening his mouth, and he looks stupid doing it. "In gangs, you either go to prison or die on the streets to be free. You can immediately tell which is the better option, right? We'd rather serve time than not have any time at all."
"Maybe it's your karma." Sungjae wonders aloud. He's now putting bandages over the other's newly cleaned cuts. "Karma for extorting money from vendors. Karma for blackmailing people. I think this..." He motions the overall state of his face. "...is nothing compared to all the shit you've put many innocent people through."
If Changsub thinks Sungjae has crossed the line with that absolutely bold statement, then he'll understand. Sungjae knows he has no business with whatever Changsub does in his life, but he couldn't help himself. Now, should the thug decide to put his "super skilled at fighting" talent to test with him being the unfortunate recipient, then he'd just bid his goodbye. What good can his crappy fighting skills do?
But Sungjae doesn't have to think about saving his ass from being beaten anymore because instead of hitting him, Changsub lets out a dry laugh instead. "Yeah, that. Plus the karma all the way from my past life. If that's the case, then there'll be even much worse things to come. When that happens, you might not be there to extend me any more help, so I'll better be prepared."
"You better behave, you mean." Sungjae chirps as he hands the ice pack to Changsub, at last. "I still think it's best to just quit with your gangster ways and live a new life. Your hyungnims might not be happy with that, but they'll live. So, when they run after you, come knock on my door again. I'll let you hide from them. Don't do it at this hour, though. It's very late."
This time, Changsub doesn't hold back from convulsing with laughter, his lips crying with fresh new blood. He just seems so entertained by Sungjae's unsolicited advices and willingness to assist him. Personally, Sungjae doesn't understand why he proposed that. He just knows that Changsub isn't the frightening gangster this neighborhood makes him out to be. To Sungjae, he's nothing but a clumsy fool who knows how to throw a punch or two but doesn't know how to shut the fuck up.
"You're kinda cute, you know." Changsub eventually recovers from his high, but there's still a few puffs of laughter coming out of him every now and then. "For your information, I stopped doing illegal things for a year already. I'm just working there now as a lookout. But fine, I'll think about your suggestion." Changsub gives him another exaggerated wink before finally standing up from his couch. "I'll see myself out. Thank you for your kindness tonight. See you tomorrow, pretty boy!"
"What for?" Sungjae asks, trying to look uninterested, but he can't deny how his ears perk up at their possible meeting soon. "Don't tell me you'll be injured tomorrow as well?" He smartly adds, holding the door open.
"The ice pack!" Changsub grins at him while waving the said item in his face. "I'll return it to you tomorrow! Good night!"
Sungjae snorts as he motions Changsub outside which the other gladly takes as his sign to leave. He then watches as the thug exits his property while whistling a tune, the ice pack pressed well against his right jaw.
Well, that was... uneventful. Sungjae tries to convince himself as he closes the door, but he really thinks otherwise. Changsub the gangster, to his surprise, isn't that bad of a company.
True to his words, Changsub indeed return the ice pack to Sungjae the next day. That should've been all their interaction that day— short and simple— but Sungjae doesn't know what took over his body when he suddenly asks Changsub if he wants to try the budae jiggae he's cooking tonight.
"You want me to have dinner with you?" Changsub asks, blinking at him slowly.
"If you're busy, you can say no." Sungjae shrugs, but his hold on the doorknob tightens. "It's just that one person can't finish all that stew in one sitting, but since you're here... You don't seem to have eaten dinner yet, so I figure maybe I'll invite you out of courtesy—"
"Pretty boy, breathe." Changsub chuckles at his obvious rambling, then he proceeds to toe off his shoes before carefully stepping inside. "Since you asked so nicely, I'll eat that homemade budae jiggae you're talking about."
"O-Okay." Is all Sungjae can say. He ignores all the heat creeping up behind his neck while ushering Changsub inside his dining area, blaming it on the destruction of the earth's ozone layer. "Make yourself at home. I'll just season it, then we can eat."
And that's just the start of the many nights Sungjae spent chatting, eating, and drinking together with Changsub.
The good uni student and the town's scary gangster seem to have developed a different level of closeness— that's what the townsfolk exclaim these days. Half of them are suspicious, the other half wary. Their late night meetings must've given the impression of them plotting the demise of Gwangju, but that's just pure nonsense. Changsub finds that rumor funny though, and Sungjae just had to smack him in the head for that. In all seriousness, Changsub doesn't seem to mind the mouths that talk behind their backs (again, it's all very amusing to him). Let them be, he said, it's not like we can do something about it.
And Sungjae thinks Changsub is right. What's important is this thing they have between them. This, Sungjae knows, is special. They have this obvious connection that electrifies his senses whenever they're together. Their personality, their humor, their appearance— they all clash, but somehow it works. Somehow, they balance each other out. To him, Changsub feels oddly familiar— like they've been with each other before all of this— and it makes Sungjae go insane because it's only been two weeks since they started whatever this thing is. Two weeks, and Sungjae already goes half-crazy if Changsub isn't within his line of sight.
Until one day, Sungjae's rope finally snaps.
"Hey, pretty boy. Look what I've got here." Changsub eagerly sits beside him on the couch of his living room. "You told me yesterday that you're in need of a bigger bag for your physical therapy kit, so ta-da!" He waves the black duffle bag between them, smirking. "Pretty bag for a pretty boy—"
"I have a name." Sungjae insists, dismissing any of Changsub's attempt at making the atmosphere light. He rather looks at him in the eye, unsmiling, quite menacing. "Don't you know my name?"
"I know. You're Yook Sungjae! Ya, what's gotten into you?" Changsub's smirk is instantly replaced by nervous laughter as he sits up straight. "I've been calling you pretty boy since forever, though—"
"But do you mean that?"
"What?"
"Do you really find me pretty?"
"What—"
"Because!" Sungjae huffs as he slaps his hand on his own thigh. "If you don't— if it's just a joke on your end— then stop calling me that. I have a name. Use that—"
"But I really find you pretty!" Changsub declares, brows furrowing in confusion, hands wildly prancing in the air. "I've always found you pretty!"
"If I am indeed pretty, then why aren't you asking me out on a date already!"
Sungjae doesn't care if the whole of Gwangju hears his desperation. He's had enough of being unable to define whatever he and Changsub is, so he might as well put it out in the open for everyone to feast on. Nothing's ever going to happen to them at this rate, anyway. Why? Because Changsub is a fool. He's a foolish fool who doesn't know how to reel a willing fish in. And since Changsub the fool is too foolish to make a move, Sungjae is left with no choice but to jump out of the water himself. If he doesn't do it now, god knows he wouldn't survive playing vague with Changsub for another two days.
"I— Well. I-I'm saying." The expression Changsub is making is hilarious— the widened eyes, the dropped jaw, the pale face, the stuttering— he truly looks like a fool. Too bad Sungjae is too serious to laugh at the moment. "Jesus, Yook Sungjae—"
"Ah! Now I'm only Yook Sungjae and not pretty boy?!" Sungjae has never felt the urge to burn someone alive in his life ever. Not until today. "Right, call Jesus because I'm gonna kick you in the face—"
"Can you calm down? I'm trying to tell you something!" Changsub now grabs and shakes him by the shoulders, effectively shutting him up. "Good. Now, please listen." The thug heaves a deep sigh, and then, "I was afraid of asking you... because I thought you'd say no—"
"I'd say what?!" Sungjae hisses, totally dumbfounded by what he's hearing. "You think I'd say no? Did it not occur to you that if I'm ever going to say no, I should've already done it back when you knocked on my door that night looking for an ice pack?!"
The gangster appears to consider his words while silence surrounds them. They lock eyes for a long time, gauging each other's stubbornness and sincerity. Sungjae has expressed everything he has to express, so all he's left to do is wait. It's all in the gangster's hands now whether their connection will progress into something beautiful or revert back to being strangers next door. Although, Sungjae can't promise to be the same approachable neighbor as before if Changsub decided to reject him today. He has pride and dignity, okay.
"Chungjang-ro, Dong-gu." Changsub mutters all of a sudden, his voice soft and fond with a subtle hint of assertion. "Tomorrow. Six in the evening."
Oh. Is he...? Sungjae feels his pulse quickening as he realizes what Changsub is trying to convey. The gangster becomes more charming in Sungjae's eyes now that the smile on his face is back— and it's not the usual teasing and flirty one he always uses on him. There's something new about it this time. It's genuine. It's hopeful. It's knowing.
"You're not gonna say no, I figured." Changsub chuckles at Sungjae's lack of response (he's very overwhelmed, thanks), then he cocks his head to the right, eyes sparkling, smile blinding. "I'd like to see where this goes, my pretty boy."
"Likewise." Sungjae finally speaks, finding it hard to form at least one coherent sentence without making a fool out of himself. Then, without much thinking, he completely plops down on Changsub, his chin resting comfortably on the other's shoulder, relief filling his entire body. "So... we'll see each other tomorrow at Chungjang street? Right under the archway?"
"Yes." Changsub confirms, hand petting his head gently. "Let's have our first date there."
Except Changsub didn't show up that day. Sungjae waited for him for an hour—which eventually turned into three— before he realized that no Changsub was ever going to appear before his eyes there. Sungjae immediately went home, fear consuming his entire system at the thought of the gangster being hurt again. That it could not be simple bruises and cuts this time, but something grave, something an ice pack wouldn't be able to heal.
But Changsub wasn't in his home, either. He didn't even go home after their supposedly first date. He was never seen anywhere in Gwangju ever again. Sungjae didn't know where to find him. He didn't have any idea what happened to him. He was left with nothing but a name, a face, and a broken promise.
Sungjae was livid. He badly wanted to rip Changsub apart, piece by piece, for leaving him behind. Too bad he got no chance to do so.
It was months later when Sungjae concluded that Changsub might be hiding somewhere overseas due to the newly approved Article 114 of Korean Criminal Law— a law that could put members of organized gangs behind bars for all the illegal activities they've done for years. A law that forced many thugs into hiding and fleeing the country (just like what Changsub did, for sure). Many weren't lucky and got arrested, though.
He didn't put much care into that stupid gangster's well-being after that. Changsub could've been disintegrating in an abandoned island and Sungjae still wouldn't budge. All he wanted that time was to never see Lee Changsub's face ever again.
As luck would have it, he got what he wanted.
But Sungjae wasn't the same since then. His heart became a vessel brimmed with resentment and destructive feelings that it could not produce and foster even the tiniest amount of love possible.
Needless to say, Sungjae remained alone for the rest of his life.
***
Changsub was too busy destroying his life he forgot Sungjae could be a casualty. Oh, why did they have to meet in this life?
He will forever harbor grudges against himself for the damage he caused Sungjae this time. It was never his intention to leave and ruin the other like that. If it weren't for the consequences of his retaliation, he would've stayed.
Leaving or staying, Changsub thinks, would've hurt Sungjae either way. But him disappearing could keep the other safe, so disappear he did. Nevermind if it shattered his heart. He deserved it.
If, in his next life, he runs to Sungjae one more time, Changsub promises to never put the man under any excruciating pain ever again. If they won't meet, then consider the promise granted. It's much better that way.
Too bad they met. Again. For the third time.