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For a few moments it's easy to forget reality.
The man in front of him is clearly annoyed, but not looking for conflict, and looks at Jeongwoo like he's just a normal person in a completely ordinary situation. Which, it is, this is something that Jeongwoo could've experienced if his life had remained on its original track. A part of boring, everyday life.
The sun is in his eyes and he squints, the figure of the man getting hazy, so Jeongwoo's only impression is of the smell of alcohol, worn-down joggers, slightly unruly hair, a deep voice, and surprisingly warm fingers brushing his as the man takes his phone to write down a name and a number.
Noh Sangcheol.
It slips his mind in the next five minutes.
A first impression is followed by a second.
Byeongmu goes in for a hug and Jeongwoo takes it easily enough, but his eyes are focused on the man standing just a little way away in the dark alley. The man he just kind of saved from being bricked by a bunch of bullies. The same man who got into the accident with Deokmi's car just a few hours ago.
He looks so different now, Jeongwoo thinks. Different and still the same in some things, Jeongwoo won't forget that shabby jogger he’s wearing anytime soon, but now he's flushed and so confused. A few seconds ago he was beating up that wannabe thug and now he's looking at Jeongwoo, blinking, clearly lost for words to say or things to do.
Jeongwoo feels the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, and it feels genuine, for the first time in so long, it feels like he wants to do this.
"So, you're really a police officer after all," he says, hands tucked safely into his pocket, stepping down from the sidewalk.
If anything, that gets the man even more confused. Jeongwoo walks away with Byeongmu, his steps somewhat lighter, and doesn't look back.
If they need to, they will meet again. This a small town, after all.
That next time is too soon.
Jeongwoo didn't want to meet him in these circumstances. He can feel blood dripping down the shell of his ear and he's way too agitated to act rationally as Byeongmu walks away with his dad. Jeongwoo is about to go after them when someone catches his arm from behind.
That's a move that sure as hell gets Jeongwoo to react, and he spins around, ready to fight whoever has gotten physical with him, but-
"Hey, are you okay?"
He means it. Jeongwoo looks into his eyes and knows the detective means it. So he doesn't know yet. Otherwise he wouldn't be…
Jeongwoo lets out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding in, shaking his head.
"No, I'm not."
He hasn't been, not since 11 years ago.
But the detective doesn't know that. Yet. It's bound to happen soon enough. Jeongwoo looks back at him while he talks about the case, tells Jeongwoo not to get his hopes up. He talks like Jeongwoo is worthy of his attention and his reassurance. Like Jeongwoo is a person whose mom was in an accident. A normal person.
Jeongwoo wishes he could keep that gaze like it is now - considerate, caring, soft, kind.
He wishes he could keep seeing it from this man for just a little bit longer.
Jeongwoo's sitting on his couch, with a blinding headache and blood dripping into his right eye.
It gets wiped away a moment later by a wet tissue held by surprisingly agile and gentle fingers.
"Just a moment."
Jeongwoo looks up, at the detective kneeling beside him, his brows furrowed in concentration as he applies disinfectant to the wound. It stings. It hurts like hell, but Jeongwoo doesn't even give a single sound of discomfort.
He watches the detective work, relaxing slowly into the feeling of another person being so close without the intention to hurt him. This time, the detective is not here to hurt Jeongwoo. He's here because… Why is he here at all? He has no reason to be, and yet he followed Jeongwoo home and spooked Shim Dongmin away. Maybe he saved Jeongwoo's life with that, or maybe he didn't need to, either way, Noh Sangcheol is there, dressing up Jeongwoo's wound, taking care of him.
Jeongwoo's ribs still ache at every deeper breath from two days ago, when it was this same man beating him up and pulling a gun on him.
Gaze trained on the detective's face, Jeongwoo lets himself look, just for now, just until he can't be caught. The detective has a scar on his forehead, and Jeongwoo wonders where he could've got it? He looks tired, there are dark circles under his eyes, not prominent, but enough to conclude that he hasn't been sleeping well. A day's stubble is starting to shadow his jaw.
"Are you a collector? Is collecting scars on your face your hobby, huh?"
He doesn't know half of it, Jeongwoo thinks, closing his eyes as Noh Sangcheol pats his back.
Why does this feel normal? Well, as close to normal as anything can be in Jeongwoo's life. Why does Jeongwoo feel safe with this man? By all accounts, he shouldn't be.
It's his eyes. Jeongwoo can see something of that same concern he saw a long time ago, before the detective knew about his crimes. It's in his gaze now, as he looks at Jeongwoo from his seat on the coffee table.
Jeongwoo feels the phantom touch of fingertips on his forehead and turns his eyes away.
He shouldn't look so much. He will get lost.
It happens a lot of times after that.
Jeongwoo's gaze gets stuck on Noh Sangcheol regularly, like there's a magnet pulling it there.
He's looking at the detective when they run into each other at Jeongwoo's school. Jeongwoo's eyes are trained on his face, slipping unconsciously between his lips and his eyes, forgetting to take a step back when Noh Sangcheol steps close enough that Jeongwoo can feel his body heat.
He's following the detective's movements half-consciously from under heavy eyelids, struggling to stay awake while he's being turned to his back and has his limbs arranged comfortably, head pillowed on something firm and warm. Soil is brushed off of his face and there's a constant deep murmur in Jeongwoo's ears, the detective's mouth moving with words he can't understand. Noh Sangcheol's hand is warm as it rests on his chest, Jeongwoo breathes with the weight of it and lets unconsciousness take him under.
He wishes he could turn away from him now, while he's dead-set on turning all of Jeongwoo's fear outside and throw it in his face, just like he throws Jeongwoo down on the bed. Jeongwoo's head pulses with pain, he's tired, he's angry, he wants to scream in Noh Sangcheol's face to just let him be, but he can't do even that. He knows the detective is right and that only makes it so much worse.
Still, no matter what, Jeongwoo's attention unerringly returns to him later, on his back as he stands between Jeongwoo and Uncle Gutak, on his glove-clad hands collecting evidence, on his eyes when he sits across Jeongwoo at the table, promising to take care of Jeongwoo's friends.
Jeongwoo finds the strength not to fall apart in his gaze that seems to become Jeongwoo's rock in the storm that his life has turned into.
His eyes latch onto the figure of Noh Sangcheol the second he arrives at the police station with Geonoh. There's nobody else he sees in that room, none of the others that he could trust with this task.
His gaze wanders to the detective's face while being held back with an arm, the weight and warmth of that palm achingly familiar on his chest. He's not taking his eyes off Noh Sangcheol, following his lead in their impromptu farce to get Jeongwoo into a cell. He listens to his warnings attentively, the grip of his hand on Jeongwoo's neck a comforting presence as he prepares to face Byeongmu.
That's the last he sees of Noh Sangcheol then, through the bars of the cell, in their roles of the convict and the detective, Jeongwoo finding strength in his eyes yet again, before it all goes to shit.
Jeongwoo wonders if it shows.
The thought is a constant at the back of his mind, that he's giving himself away completely every time he looks at Noh Sangcheol. Still, he can't stop. He doesn't want to.
He's never been rebutted for it, either, the detective looking right back at him and never complaining about the intensity of Jeongwoo's gaze. So he continues doing it, forgets his eyes on Noh Sangcheol more times than he can count, finding comfort in him, peace in the knowledge that he has him by his side.
And god knows, he needs it. Through the continuous downs in this case, Jeongwoo needs Noh Sangcheol more than ever, more than anyone else to be his anchor, a place of comfort he can return to, something that keeps him from breaking. The detective is that, but also so much more, a kindness Jeongwoo didn't think he'd ever be able to experience in his life, a gentleness he still isn't quite sure he deserves, a home he can always return to - just like his father had said.
Jeongwoo relaxes into it, feeling more and more himself the longer he spends in Noh Sangcheol's presence. The detective worries about him, takes care of him, makes sure Jeongwoo is eating and sleeping well, making Jeongwoo's heart warm every time he hears his voice. Jeongwoo wants to give something back of that care, but there's precious little he can do, unable to think of a way to pay Noh Sangcheol back for everything he's done for Jeongwoo.
A simple thank you will not suffice, not when Sangcheol has saved Jeongwoo's life multiple times, has shown him that he can trust people again, has made sure his name is cleared, has been with him all the way to the end, has made Jeongwoo smile even through his tears. Safe in Sangcheol's embrace, heart full of everything he feels for the man, Jeongwoo closes his eyes and hides his face against Sangcheol's neck, afraid that all of it will show.
He breathes slowly, letting the other man take some of his weight for the last time before they separate, probably for good. Jeongwoo doesn't know how he will move forward if he won't have Sangcheol to fall back on anymore, but the detective must be so tired of him now, and Jeongwoo doesn't want to burden him anymore.
So, they separate, and go their own ways, and Jeongwoo doesn't let his tears fall.
This is the last time, Jeongwoo tells himself.
His heart thrums fast in his chest as he lays his eyes on Sangcheol's figure again, after so long. The uniform is new, and not very flattering, making Jeongwoo reminisce about leather jackets and form-fitting turtlenecks, feeling his ears heat up, but he just can't avert his eyes.
Sangcheol looks the same, his smile still the most beautiful thing Jeongwoo has ever seen in his life, and it's turned on him now, the full force of it knocking the breath out of his lungs. It makes him uncertain, overwhelmed, shy, of all things, searching for reassurance in Sangcheol just as he has done many times before.
He wanted to do this for just once more. He wanted to look at Sangcheol again, wanted to see him smile and hear him laugh, wanted to feel the warmth of his gaze and his hand on his shoulder again. And he wanted to do it now that he's slowly returning to his old, normal self, to the Jeongwoo who he has been before everything came crashing down on his head.
But he has to realize that nothing has changed. Not between them. He has always been that Jeongwoo, when he's with Sangcheol he could always be himself without restraint. The realization takes over him slowly as the day progresses, settles fully inside him by the time they're saying goodbye to Ha Seol.
He wonders if it shows, again, always.
He wonders if Sangcheol can see it, if he could see it all along, if that soft smile of his, if the tilt of his head means he has seen through Jeongwoo long ago? If the gentleness in his eyes means he doesn't mind?
"Jeongwoo-ya."
If he might even welcome it.
Jeongwoo steps in, holding Sangcheol's fond gaze and puts his hands on either side of Sangcheol's face. Sangcheol's smile gets wider as he looks down, hands coming up to hold Jeongwoo's wrists.
Gathering every ounce of bravery he has, Jeongwoo raises on his tiptoes to press his lips to Sangcheol's. He relishes the warmth and softness under his lips, the small sigh that escapes Sangcheol, and how he has his eyes closed, following the movement when Jeongwoo pulls away.
"I was starting to think you'd never do that," he says, opening his eyes, resting his forehead against Jeongwoo's.
“You could have said something, you know.”
“I wanted you to come to me on your own terms.”
Jeongwoo frowns, thinking that Sangcheol has put way too much hope in him pulling his shit together.
“And if I never did?”
Sangcheol pulls away, shaking his head, a wide smile on his face. “That was not a possibility.”
What a foolishly romantic man. Jeongwoo loves him so much he can barely keep it contained. He leans up, capturing Sangcheol’s lips again, letting him deepen the kiss, coaxing Jeongwoo’s mouth open and stealing all the air out of his lungs. When they separate, Sangcheol wraps him up in his arms, pressing small kisses into Jeongwoo’s temple, his steadily thrumming heartbeat lulling Jeongwoo into a sense of safety and happiness.
Enclosed in Sangcheol’s embrace, Jeongwoo’s world falls into place once again.