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Sangjae would forever remember the day he swore to never leave Muchans side- he was the one who got him out of this situation that almost ended his career. He was the one who gave him all the time to grow as a person, the one who took care of him when he fucked up and who patiently waited for him to finally settle down. No matter how many insults he would hear from others, Muchan never let him feel little- the moments when he would get angry and yell, the moments Muchan would grab him rough by the arms and tell him to stop being so reckless, to stop copying him- out of concern.
There were nights when Sangjae couldn't sleep so Muchan would stay up with him. Other nights he would force him because he just didn't want Sangjae to end up like him.
Those cold hands had guided him, those sad eyes had looked eye to eye with him.
And those words had made him feel significant.
Muchan had built a warm and welcoming home for him- and he would never leave again.
Over the years, he had begun to admire him more- with each day he watched him work all day and through the night, he couldn't help but always look at him, follow him wherever he would go, and go wherever Muchan wanted him to be. The moments when he would show true concern towards him or anyone else in the team would spark something in his chest, something warm- a feeling he hadn't felt towards anyone. Sangjae never knew who he really was, what or who he liked. People around him would always dictate things to him, tell him he had to enjoy this or that.
Muchan was the one to finally help him realise these things about himself- what he enjoyed. And suddenly being confronted with all those feelings? It felt strange.
So of course he wouldn't leave Muchan's side in times like this, he never would, he never could. No matter how excruciatingly painful they would get. Muchan was there for him first, now it was time for him to return the favour. All Sangjae had to do was not to get worried too much over Muchan. By now he knew the man hated when people showed too much affection towards him, his worries and pains. And Sangjae tried so desperately to respect his wishes.
But how could he when the person he admired- loved- so much, sat in front of him. Holding back tears.
Hand curled up to fists, letting out sighs with a trembling breath as he read the judges verdict over and over again.
Only one year and another of social service work for the things Min Jiyoung had done. For the years she had robbed Muchan and his family. For the years she had ruined.
The pain and anger was oh so written all over Muchan's face, mirroring in his eyes which looked for anything, something, that would tell him the words on the paper were a joke.
And Sangjae sat there, so helpless. All he could do was to watch over Muchan- seeing how he was slowly destroying himself, when all he wanted was to reach out. Hold his hands and tell him he was here. He would do anything to help him search for the love lost in the sea and the hope lost in court.
Muchan's eyes darted up, looking straight at Sangjae. There was that look in his eyes again, the one he always wore whenever he would ask him that question.
“Have you found…anything?”
He had heard those words so often. In the same tone, in the same mannerism. With the same longing only he heard.
He shook his head. Again.
“Maybe he just doesn't want to be found.” Muchan murmured to himself, putting the documents to the side. The light of the lamp hit his face as he looked to the side. Making him look even more lonelier.
Sangjae shook his head again. It became quite the habit recently
“No,” He slid closer to the table, the feet of the chair dragging across the floor. “Maybe he just wants you to look a bit closer. You know him the best. Do you really think he wouldn't want you, out of all people, to find him?”
The thought of perhaps, one day Muchan would leave to join Seokjoo, wherever he was right now, hurt. Oh of course it hurt.
But there was no greater pain than to see the person who had always looked out for and treated him with patience drowned in sorrow each evening when memories would always get the best of people.
Muchans eyes drifted to the hands on the table, now intertwined. It was obvious he knew the answer but something was clearly on his mind- something weighing him down. Something he maybe had avoided for so long.
Whatever it was, he would listen. And no matter how long it would take for Muchan to say the words- he would wait. He would wait one year, he would wait 50 years and so many more if it meant for Muchan to feel comfortable. His personal comfort came first.
“Lets just keep looking until we find him. You're not someone to give up easily so don't do it this time around, alright?”
Sangjae knew he wasn't the best at giving motivational speeches or cheering people up, whenever it did happen, it was just a mere accident but at least those words, spoken so awkwardly, brought a smile to Muchan's face- it almost wasn't visible. It was fleeting but it made Sangjae’s heart jump. It were those rare moments he appreciated the most, those rare moments that made him realise again how important Muchan was to him.
He got up and circled the table, now standing to the left side of Muchan.
“You have done enough for now- give yourself a break, will you? We can continue working later.”
Heading over to the fridge, he pulled out a carton of milk. Reaching inside the cupboard he took out a jar of coffee powder and two cups- a smile spread across his face. They were his favourite. A pair of cups with raccoons on them. Sangjae still remembered the day he got them- it was only half a year later, after Muchan had recruited him, and his birthday. The first present he had gotten in years from anyone.
After his father had left, it was only his mother and him. To keep their apartment, she had to work multiple jobs and of course it resulted in her forgetting his birthday over and over again. He was never mad, of course he wasn't, but whenever he had heard what others would do on their birthdays he felt so left out- especially during highschool years.
And his former colleagues weren't any better either. Dumping him with work, even more so on his birthday.
Muchan didn't have any reason to gift him anything, they barely knew each other- yet, he did. The feeling that ran through Sangjae’s body when he saw the box on his desk with a handwritten note on it, not saying much other than a mere happy birthday and Muchan’s name, was a feeling he would never forget.
For many it was a day like any other- for him, he felt something blossom in his chest, something warm and something that felt like home.
Whenever Sangjae looked at the cups, he was reminded of those days. They were his favourites. Days he thought he would never get to experience. With a smile still on his face, he made them both a hot latte. When he was younger, he loved to pretend he’s a barista- his mother his only customer. He had never done it for anyone else- Muchan was the first one. There was a cat’s face poured into the latte, with hearts. Maybe he didn't even like it?
Ah. He sighed deeply. It was a trial and error with him but that was what he liked in him.
With the hot cups in his hands, he headed back over to the table, catching the other one deep in thoughts- a document had found its way back in his hands. Sangjae sighed again and he put down the cups.
“What did I just say?”
Their fingers brushed as he took the paper out of Muchan’s hands. It wasn't something new to them- they had shared so many moments of casual physical contact and it still happened. Sangjae knew it was special, what they had. To have these moments with him. He understood that Muchan loved his personal space, didn't like to be touched by everyone. Sometimes, he was like a cat. It made him smile once again.
He reached next to him to get a hold on the other scattered papers, their arms slightly brushing. Some of the documents had crinkles, others had small tears in them.
Neatly stacked, he put them aside on top of the windowsill next to the table.
“What's that?” Muchan pointed at the hot cup looking up to him from where he sat. Sangjae’s eyes drifted to the cup, then back to Muchan.
“Something I haven't done for anyone besides my mother. If you don't like it, you can just leave it. But,” he pointed at the cups. “Do you remember the day you gifted me them?”
Muchan lifted the cup, there was a faint smile on his face now too. “I do. You still have them?”
What a question.
Sitting down across from him again, turning the cup with the handle to the left side.
“Of course I still have them. I would never throw them away. I love them just as much as I love-” Sangjae faltered, then swallowed the word down.
There it almost happened. One more word and he would have ruined everything they had built up over the years. He turned his head to look out of the window, catching a couple walking past- holding hands.
Well, what an awful coincidence. And then there was that feeling of Muchan’s eyes on him.
“You know just as much as I love work.”
What an awful lie, not making the situation any better. And not lifting the mood anyway. The feeling of being stared at was gone now- maybe Muchan believed him, maybe not. Pushing it away, Sangjae looked back. The man across from him now eyed the contents in the cup intensely, taking a sip. The smile spread across his face only lasted for a second but it was something Sangjae wanted to see more on him.
“Don't you think you picked the wrong field of work?”
Sangjae’s heart jumped.
Huh? Was this a compliment?
A compliment to something he had poured his heart and time into days and nights just to get it to perfection and serve it to Muchan one day?
“Maybe. I don't know. I don't think so. I like where I am, being a part of your team. I like it. I really do.” Having the man sit across from him at the table made it more and more harder to swallow down the words, to brush them aside. When Muchan’s hands were just in reach.
Who would have thought that a simple latte would make himself fall into a blackhole of emotions.
“Do you?”
“Of course. I would never trade it for anything else.”
There was that look on Muchan’s face again- the same he had worn earlier. As if there was something lingering inside of him, ready to come out any minute- but too afraid to utter the words. And why did he already have a feeling what it's about?
Taking yet another simp, Muchan let his eyes drift across the room, filled with photos of Sangjae and his mother. He had only seen her a couple of times
Still working multiple jobs at her age, because she loved her son so much.
“It's strange. You know about the history between me and him, you know what I feel. Are you really fine with me having them?”
Sangjae was right- what the words lingering inside of Muchan were, yet it felt so strange to actually hear them. He had rarely seen him like this in the past- insecure, uncertain, hurt. But he started to get to know this side of him the very first moment Seokjoo stepped inside the station. More and more often he had seen him alone with his thoughts- miles aways. Probably clinging onto happy moments and days when everything was still perfect.
“That's odd.” Frowning, he put down the spoon he was swirling the foam in the cup around with. “Who do you think I am? Narrow minded and old? Why should I care? You put all the effort into me, never gave up on me- and now you think I wouldn't be fine with you being you ?” He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “We will all care about you, forever.”
It hurt, seeing Muchan like this. Hearing such words. It hurt because he knew them the best.
And why did it feel like it was the first time he had actually ever spoken to anyone about these things? Without leaving anything ambiguous?
“I know how you feel.” Sangjae blurted out, realising it way too late. “I mean, the feeling of feeling weird and thinking people will cast you out if they find out.”
Cursing under his breath he began swirling the foam in the cup again. “What annoys me is how he's hurt you, by disappearing again. That's why we should find him.”
Emptying the cup in one big sip, he leaned back in the chair- watching Muchan from this position.
He still didn't look like he believed any word Sangjae just said, eyes following the swirl in the cup.
Tilting his head, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“You don't have to believe me, but you can choose to. It's up to you.”
It only got him a nod from the other one- of course it was frustrating. But it was Muchan so he was used to getting responses like this.
“Let's eat something, afterwards we can look through all that we have gathered so far. “
It was past 11 pm when Sangjae put a halt to their work. Exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open he got up.
“Sleep in the guest room today. If I see you on the sofa tomorrow I will never let you sleep here again. And,” a finger pointed at the documents. “If I see you hovering over them in the dead of the night you have to sleep in my bed.” What was meant as a joke caught them both off guard- the look on Muchan’s face was made out of pure confusion and Sangjae stood there, mouth half agape, the rest of what he wanted to say stuck in his throat. “Sorry. “
Fast steps carried him over to his bedroom. He didn't switch on the lights- instead he just sat down on the bed, facing the window. The light on a street lamp shone through the window, drenching his face in pale, orange light.
With a heavy heart, he let himself fall back into his pillows. He knew he could never admit to those feelings- but that was alright. As long as he was by Muchan’s side, he was happy.
"My life has been better since the day I found you"