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it took a devastatingly long time for yeonghu to realise that seokchan mattered a lot more to him than he'd thought.
it didn't quite hit him when dongjun's disembodied voice rang through his headset, yelling for backup, didn't feel anything when he caught a glimpse of seokchan being hauled up the truck, bloodied and lifeless. hell, he didn't even think of him once throughout the chaos that reigned the stadium, too caught up in settling both the military and the people down after they'd lost almost a third of their men to monsters.
perhaps it was because people always took the constants for granted, and he'd never really known a life before seokchan. not literally, he remembered having a decent childhood with loving parents and a complete education. he remembered signing on to the marines, training for a year before he met the private who gave a corporal a concussion for bullying a dog, and then suddenly life was a little more about living than surviving, even if he never said it aloud.
he'd known seokchan longer than he hadn't—that was the truth—and it didn't occur to yeonghu just how much his absence would affect him until seojin slid into his office one day and, with the most somber expression yeonghu had ever seen on his friend, said, "how long are you going to avoid him?"
yeonghu simply stared back. "who?"
"don't act stupid with me now," seojin frowned, "seokchannie. he's alive, in case you've never noticed, and he's been awake since four days ago."
yeonghu resumed filing his paperwork. there were a lot more important things to managing civilisation in an apocalypse than listening to his friend grumble about hospital visits. seojin must've been able to read minds; he casually flipped him off before slumping into his chair.
"he's alive, isn't he?"
"and kicking well, for someone with a stab wound the size of my fist. fuckin' monsters and their ginormous crab pincers."
"then there's nothing else I should be worried about."
"what about yourself? you look like you haven't slept since world war two."
yeonghu shot him a look that hopefully conveyed his message to shut up and get lost. thank God seojin had better intellectual skills than the average person, despite his bullheaded qualities.
"what I'm saying is, seeing him once won't kill you, you're not that big of a coward," seojin chimed, slinking away to the door with his hands in mock surrender when yeonghu gave him another glare.
then, he added, a little softer than before, "he- he's kinda waiting on you too, y'know," and before yeonghu could ask him what that meant, he was already gone.
seojin's pep-talk and the concerning hours of sleep he'd missed over the past month must be getting to his head, because the metaphorical hole he felt somewhere to the left of his chest (he'd blamed it on work-induced stress) had gaped and grown large enough for him to stand outside of the military sick bay after dinner the next evening, one hand on the door knob.
yeonghu gave himself exactly three deep breaths before he twisted and pushed the door open, only to find the place empty, and then it all crashed down on him at once. that sickening clench in his guts, the tightening of his airways, the loss of strength in his muscles, all drowned out by the thought of he's gone. he's gone and he won't come back. gone. gone. gone.
dead.
yeonghu realised then, back against the icy stone wall, breaths scorching like wildfire through his lungs, that it was fear. that he was absolutely terrified of losing kang seokchan, because he'd always been there and then he hadn't. it scared him to no end, scared him enough to get his shit together and scout the entire stadium for him, uncaring of the questioning looks sent his way. he'd almost decided on declaring a lockdown when he reached the shower room reserved for soldiers and heard the muddled sound of running water.
he slammed the door open with a little more force than intended, marched straight to the only occupied stall, and he was there. in the flesh, eyes round and wide and locked on him.
"sergeant."
yeonghu didn't know what he looked like then. desperate? angry? shocked? he wouldn't have figured out if he could. everything about seokchan was real, real and breathing and very much alive, and nothing about him had changed but it felt like yeonghu hadn't seen him in years. he didn't want to know what type of expression he wore when he had such thoughts steamrolling through his head.
apparently an embarrassing amount of time had passed, judging from the fact that seokchan was now staring past him instead of at him, clearing his throat awkwardly.
"do you... need anything, sir?"
"no," yeonghu blurted, regaining his senses and feeling heat crawl up his own spine. they'd seen each other in worse conditions than stark naked in the shower, for fuck's sake. "no, i don't."
"alright. i'll just finish up quickly and then-"
"let me help you."
they both froze at the statement, but yeonghu was quicker to recompose himself, forcing down all the alarms going off in his head and his dinner threatening to rise up his throat. it was now or never.
"you're hurt. bad. let me help you wash up."
he could see the tips of seokchan's ears turn red, face going blank as he processed the absurd request, blinking emptily at him. it was kind of...endearing. seokchan resembled a puppy a lot more than the man himself realised, but yeonghu would rather face a monster barehanded than tell him that.
"you don't have to do this for me, sergeant," seokchan chuckled, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. nervously, not awkwardly, there was a slight difference. "i'll- i'm almost done, really, it's alright-"
"seokchan-ah."
he stiffened again, as though he was about to get lectured. as though yeonghu would ever have enough apathy to properly lecture him.
"let me," he tried. something must have bled through his voice, because seokchan's eyes climbed shakily to meet his for a fleeting moment, dropping straight to the floor after.
"okay."
"okay," yeonghu echoed, tone equally hushed. he dragged a stool from under the sinks and made him sit down such that he was facing the shower head. seokchan was flushed down to his neck, though yeonghu found it easier to chalk it up to the hot water than other reasons. he took in the large gash spanning the left of his lower back all the way up to his right shoulder blade, scarred skin raw and angry, saw the equally painful looking, rounder scar at his side.
strong. seokchan was so insanely strong to have survived that. yeonghu felt a whirlwind of emotion wash over him. admiration. pride. pain. an overwhelming urge to shield and protect. he shoved them all aside and grabbed the bar of soap, spreading it over his hands and watching it foam up.
showers were hard to come by with the lack of electricity and clean water. they'd all gotten used to bathing by pouring water from a container over the top of their heads, but seokchan deserved a proper shower after all he went through. he deserved a lot more good things in this not so good world.
yeonghu threaded his fingers into damp hair and tried to ignore the way seokchan instantly leaned into him, shoulders drooping. subconsciously or not, it was doing a great effect on him.
"your hair's getting long," he began.
"is it? i was thinking of cutting it soon, maybe get a choppy style, if you know what i mean."
yeonghu hummed in response, pressed his fingertips into his scalp and made slow, repetitive circles, almost like a massage. it went on like that for awhile, the sound of water dripping from the shower head the only thing filling the silence, until seokchan had his entire back against yeonghu's pants and his head lolling occasionally. he didn't care that they were damp, only that the man in front of him was being lulled to sleep from hands in his hair alone, breaths steady.
"i'm gonna wash it off now," he mummured, kept his voice as gentle as possible. he remembered something from seojin about how he 'only ever spoke to seokchannie like that'. he couldn't understand then, because he was equally firm on everyone, but he figured that friends could see, and apparently hear, more than what met the eye.
when he didn't reply, yeonghu removed his hands instead. "seokchan-ah."
"hm?" seokchan lifted his head and craned his neck back, eyes unfocused and a small smile on his face. yeonghu realised then that the corners of his lips were upturned by default and he shifted his gaze to his shoulder instead. that was much better to deal with.
"oh. right. go ahead." he lowered his head again, then caught sight of the dark stains covering the front of his pants, mortification painting his face.
"i apolo-"
"just turn around and face the wall, brat," yeonghu chided, no real malice in his voice. seokchan gave him one last wary look before doing as instructed. "tilt your head up a little."
the water running from the shower head was still warm as he rinsed the foam off, carefully avoiding his eyes and ears. unexpectedly, it brought him to a few years back, a small child—his niece—in an inflatable tub, giggling as he playfully blew into her ear, her hair wet and soapy. an indescribable ache throbbed in him. where was she now?
"is there any reason you're...doing this, sarge?" seokchan's voice cut through his thoughts.
was there? there definitely was, though yeonghu didn't know if it was a single reason or too many reasons all tangled into one dark mess, not that he could say it out loud anyway. one reason to go out of his way to care for his subordinate was one too many. how people like seokchan spoke whatever came to their mind so skillfully and expressively was and would forever be beyond him, too.
"i mean, i understand where you're coming from," seokchan huffed another laugh, "i'm injured and still recovering, so you might think that i have trouble doing daily routines myself, but i think it's all part and parcel of personal growth, y'know? challenging myself is good."
as always whenever the other ran his mouth unnecessarily, yeonghu stayed silent for a beat, just for the dramatics, then, "you talk too much."
"sorry, sir."
seokchan couldn't see the smile on his face when he turned off the tap.
"stand up, and face me."
that was the worst possible thing to say, because now he would have to scrub him down with the younger's eyes trained on him, less than an arm's length away, undressed and about to yap his ear off again. did other sergeants go so far as to bathe their injured soldiers? yeonghu believed they didn't. definitive. positive. perhaps seokchan was right, he could use a challenge right now, yeonghu could back off and retreat to the office and try not to go goddamn insane‐
"something on your mind, sir?"
you.
yeonghu blinked, head reeling, catching the other's eyes again. there was genuine concern in them, but also amusement, the slightest bit of panic. he was still red in the cheeks. yeonghu busied himself with the soap bar.
what the fuck was that?
"the stadium." he threw out instead. seokchan's face melted into something unreadable, then washed over with understanding.
"ah. i've heard...it must be hard on you," he offered.
"it's hard on everyone. people fret when their pillar of security begins to crumble."
he brought his hands up to his arms, deciding that was the best place to start. seokchan was warm to the touch, he always had been. yongseok called him a human boiler once because he could feel his body heat half a foot away. yeonghu suppressed a laugh at the memory. he slid his palms down his biceps, to his wrists, up and over his shoulders, around his neck and across his chest, felt the cool metal of his dog tags. seokchan shivered, diverted his gaze to somewhere behind him.
"that's true. but it's especially difficult to be the one trying to hold up that pillar. you, master sergeant tak, sergeant min. I can't imagine being in your position."
yeonghu didn't reply him, too focused on avoiding pressure on the stab wound, fingers skirting around the area. he didn't know how to answer to that either, though seokchan probably wasn't expecting one anyway. he simply carried on.
"how are the rest of them? are they doing well?"
"well enough to continue the expeditions," yeonghu replied. "does it hurt?"
"what? oh, this?" seokchan pointed to his side. "still stings a little when i stretch too much, but it's nothing compared to before. felt like i was actually going to pass away until they gave me more painkillers. i had to lie on my right side for a whole two weeks."
he chuckled, then stuttered on a breath when yeonghu pressed into the tender skin beside the scar in warning, flinching away. "don't say that. you're not dying anytime soon. not on my watch."
seokchan blinked. a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, made him look a lot younger than he was.
"yes sir."
yeonghu spun him around again, dragging his hands down the span of his back, dancing around the long, nasty scar. he felt seokchan tense when he glided his palms over the sides of his waist, and it took yeonghu a moment to realise that he was...holding him, gentler and far more intimately than he should. he shouldn't. he immediately withdrew his hands like he was electrocuted. which he pretty much was, because he felt like he was being burnt alive right now.
"it's not- it's not a very nice sight, is it?"
yeonghu couldn't see his face, but seokchan's voice had the slightest tremble in it when he asked that question. it reeked of uncertainty, vulnerability, squeezed his heart for the wrong reason.
seokchan thought he was disgusted by him.
he opened his mouth to retaliate, but seokchan beat him to it: "i don't think the girls would like it really much."
then he laughed. nothing about it was lighthearted. it pierced straight through his chest, and for the second time that day, yeonghu felt like he was going to throw up. he didn't, placed a hand right in the middle of the scar, swallowed the lump in his throat and wet his lips.
"the girls would love it. if they didn't, then they're not the one."
that was the stupidest, cringiest fucking thing yeonghu had ever said and heard in his entire life, but then seokchan dissolved into actual giggles, little hiccups of joy that wrecked and shook his entire frame, and the most absurd thought of wanting to hear those sounds coming from him forever floated to the forefront of his mind.
he was doomed.
"ah, i wouldn't have figured you as one who'd say this kind of things, sergeant."
"what?"
"nothing. it's nothing. thank you. it's really sweet of you."
yeonghu pursed his lips and returned to washing him down, albeit a little harsher than before, bending to scrub at his legs.
"kang seokchan. say sweet one more time and you're getting discharged."
"yes sir."
"...this is the only time i'm doing this for you."
"got it, sir."
yeonghu raised his head to look at him. oh, he was definitely losing his sanity alright, because the ring of light from the lamp above the other's head was starting to look like an actual halo and seokchan was still smiling down at him way too softly for his own good. alright. enough.
he stood up and rinsed the remaining soap off his hands, ignored seokchan's eyes boring holes into the side of his head.
"do the rest yourself. i've got things to do."
"oh. alright."
he shuffled to the side to make way for yeonghu, dripping wet, smelling like body wash and his own underlying scent. how had they even managed to fit into this suffocating space in the first place, yeonghu didn't know. he didn't spare another glance at seokchan until he was halfway out the stall, heart doing horrendous backflips in his chest, then, with all his remaining courage and insomnia-driven insanity, he croaked out:
"you- the scars. they look... I like them on you."
fuck seojin and his ridiculous peptalks.