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The doorbell rings for the second time, and Changbin sets the clean plates on the edge of the sink to dry his hands.
He wasn’t expecting guests, and he hadn’t planned on answering even after the first ring—but the second one forces him to change his mind. Technically, he was waiting for Seungmin to come home from work, but the younger man had his own keys, and he should’ve arrived either earlier or, if he’d decided to stop by the store, even later.
Changbin heads to the front door, grabbing the kitchen trash on the way—might as well take it down to the bins—and peers through the peephole. All he can make out is the familiar silhouette of a dark coat, so he swings the door open.
Seungmin stumbles back from the doorway, looking so utterly distraught and lost that Changbin lets out a startled gasp:
“Seungmin-ah, you’re so pale—what happened?”
Then his gaze drops to Seungmin’s hands.
Cradled in them, wrapped in Seungmin’s ridiculously expensive scarf, is a puppy. Tiny, white, with black and—red?—stains. It’s alive, but looks just as sickly as Seungmin does terrified.
“Holy shit,” is all Changbin manages before silently ushering them inside.
Seungmin’s hands, the collar of his coat, and the edges of his scarf are smeared with blood and dirt.
They freeze in the entryway, caught in a wordless tableau.
“Hyung, I don’t know what to do with this,” Seungmin blurts out first, voice trembling as he clutches the animal to his chest, unsure how to even take off his shoes without letting go.
“Did you hit it?” is Changbin’s first question. He immediately regrets it when Seungmin swallows hard—too sharp, too abrupt. He should’ve phrased that better.
“No, I—I found him.” Changbin sweeps the clutter off the hallway console, dumping it onto the floor, and nods at Seungmin to finally set the puppy down.
The little thing lets out a weak whimper as it’s placed on the smooth surface. Changbin helps Seungmin out of his coat, hangs it up, and waits, wiping his own hands clean with a tissue.
“He was lying by the road near our building,” Seungmin starts, “I didn’t even realize at first—thought someone had dumped him—” He rubs the bridge of his nose with still-dirty fingers, and Changbin silently shoves a wet wipe into his hands. Seungmin mechanically cleans them, then nervously crumples and tears the tissue to shreds.
Changbin feels an uncomfortable itch crawl up his throat.
“All the nearby vet clinics were closed. I even called a doctor I know, begged him to come here. I couldn’t just leave him there.” Seungmin’s shaking from tension. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep him in the bathroom—just for tonight. He’ll be gone by morning.” The words spill out in a rush.
Changbin grabs another tissue to wipe the dirt off Seungmin’s cheek.
“You idiot, you scared me,” he exhales, plucking the damp shreds from Seungmin’s grip. The puppy whines again, and Seungmin jerks toward it, scooping it back up.
“You’re not mad?”
Changbin opens his mouth to answer but breaks into a cough—tolerable but unpleasant.
Seungmin lets out a guilty “Oh.”
“Wait, let me—” He fumbles, “I’ll move him away from you.”
He disappears into the bathroom, reemerges a minute later, then darts into the kitchen for a towel, kicking off his shoes on the way. Changbin hears clattering, the rush of water, as he rummages through the cabinets for leftover antihistamines.
By the time Seungmin returns to the hallway, he’s washed up and changed. He wipes down the console with a rag, then immediately tosses it into the trash bag by the door. He looks far more composed than he did fifteen minutes ago, and that alone eases some of the weight in Changbin’s chest.
Changbin pulls him into a hug and kisses his cheek—a quiet welcome home.
“Now, let’s start over. I’m fine, don’t worry.”
The puppy turns out to be covered in fleas and has several other health issues, but no fractures. The blood from scratched bites mixed with dirt had turned its white fur into an unpleasant brown. Seungmin repeats that he found it on the street and couldn't drive past, that the puppy will only stay temporarily, and apologizes again. Changbin shakes his head and gives him a light hug.
Truthfully, Changbin actually likes dogs. His relatives had them when he was younger, and he'd even played with them sometimes despite his parents' prohibitions. Back then he thought it was unfair, but his parents were essentially right: the red marks that appeared on his body after any prolonged contact with animals joined his pollen-induced watery eyes. His mother always worried his allergies might progress to angioedema. While her fears never materialized, they were reasonable enough to justify never bringing animals home.
Changbin watches from the living room as Seungmin tends to the puppy, having just received instructions from the vet. He's carefully rinsing flea shampoo from its matted fur. Changbin realizes four hours have passed since Seungmin arrived with their unexpected guest, and he hasn't sat down once or even eaten dinner. He calls softly, trying not to startle either of them:
"Seungmin-ah? I'll reheat dinner. Come eat."
Seungmin nods gratefully but returns to his task. When he finally comes to the kitchen, having changed clothes again, it's well past midnight. Changbin boils the kettle for the third time in an hour.
"How is he?"
Seungmin shakes his head.
"I got most of it cleaned," he yawns. "Can't do more now - might make it worse."
Changbin gently smooths Seungmin's messy bangs, letting his touch linger on his cheek. Seungmin covers Changbin's hand with his own and nuzzles into it.
"Sorry. I know we planned to spend the evening together," Seungmin says regretfully, hiding his gaze in his cooling tea.
Changbin sighs.
"You did the right thing, Seungmin-ah. We’ve got all the time in the world—but he might not have had any if you hadn’t stopped."
He says it because it’s the right thing to say. Because this was supposed to be one of those rare evenings when it was just the two of them. And now here they are, eating dinner in their kitchen at 1 a.m. Seungmin is exhausted and, honestly, Changbin would send him to bed right now if he thought he'd listen - but he knows he won't. And he loves this stubbornness, this desire to help others so much that it makes him want to care for Seungmin even more.
Seungmin flusters at his words, gaze dropping sheepishly.
"Thank you. But please—don’t go near the bathroom, okay? I don’t want you feeling worse."
Changbin laughs, equally fond and exasperated. "I took two allergy pills. I’ll be fine."
Seungmin nods and laces their fingers together.
They go to bed together, but through the haze of sleep, Changbin feels Seungmin get up every hour to check on the puppy. The vet had diagnosed severe malnutrition and prescribed feedings every two hours.
By the third check, Seungmin doesn’t come back to bed—he stays in the living room and falls asleep with his phone alarm clutched in his hand.
Changbin drapes a blanket over him and moves the phone to the head of the couch.
Seungmin’s coat hangs awkwardly on the door hook. Changbin adjusts the collar, hangs it properly, and goes back to bed.
He wakes up choking on a cough. It doesn't feel life-threatening, but breathing comes with difficulty. He takes another pill between coughs. Seungmin startles awake on the living room couch.
"God, hyung, I'm sorry," Seungmin looks like a beaten puppy himself, frightened and anxious from sleep, "Let's call an ambulance, I-" he hiccups and rushes over, "I shouldn't have brought him here, I'm so sorry."
Changbin raises his hands placatingly - the attack has passed - and opens the window, breathing in the morning air.
"It's okay, I'm better now."
This "okay" comes out hoarse and unconvincing, especially since it's the third time he's said it. Changbin doesn't want to worry Seungmin, but the younger man refuses to sleep and stays up with him until morning, periodically stepping away to feed the puppy.
By evening the next day, the puppy has strengthened somewhat. Changbin avoids it and spends the day out, getting updates from Seungmin. That evening, Seungmin takes it to a veterinary hospital, later reporting how the doctors praised its progress.
"He's so good," Seungmin says dreamily. "I hope he gets a good owner."
You'd have to be deaf not to hear the sadness in his voice, and blind not to see how dejected he looks. Changbin understands why. Seungmin had said dogs were always part of his life - at his parents' home, at his grandfather's in the countryside. Seungmin grew up caring for his own pet. His first and only dog, Kkomkori, died when Seungmin was twenty-one and the dog was twelve: two years ago. Changbin remembers how after his mother's call, Seungmin locked himself in his room and cried until Changbin convinced him to open the door.
Changbin knows Seungmin would love to have a dog now. They own their apartment, not rent, and make decent money. Seungmin mostly works from home, only occasionally going to the office. And yet Seungmin chose to be with Changbin, whose allergies wouldn't even allow for a hamster. Changbin regrets that this is one thing he can't give Seungmin.
***
The phone ringing at 3 a.m. isn't something anyone wants to wake up to, but Changbin hears it and feels the mattress shift beside him. Seungmin slips out to the kitchen to answer. The call is brief, and Changbin can't hear the conversation, but after five minutes, then ten, Seungmin doesn't return. Changbin gets up to check.
He finds Seungmin standing before an open window in the living room, wearing just a T-shirt and shorts - too light for the spring night air. Changbin sees his shoulders shake.
He's crying.
"Seungmin-ah?"
Changbin touches his shoulder gently and looks at his face. Tears streak his cheeks, and though Changbin doesn't want to assume, the vet clinic's number glows on Seungmin's phone screen. He understands without words.
Seungmin melts into his embrace, resting his head trustingly on Changbin's shoulder.
"You know, I think I got attached," Seungmin says. "Started imagining things. Thought maybe I'd ask my parents to take him. He looked like my Kori."
Changbin rubs his back, rocking him gently. He hears Seungmin swallow another sob. It's hard seeing him like this, especially when you know you can't help.
"I keep thinking maybe I shouldn't have taken him there," Seungmin continues. "Maybe I could've taken better care of him. Maybe I did something wrong yesterday?" He allows Changbin to hold him tighter. "Should've gone straight to that 24-hour clinic."
Regret seeps through his words, settling bitterly in the cold air.
"You know it's across town," Changbin says soothingly, running fingers through his hair.
"I know. But I can't shake the thought that I should've done more," Seungmin's breathing is ragged. "I shouldn't have risked your health without thinking, and in the end, it was all for nothing."
Seungmin breaks down completely. Even now, he overthinks everything, Changbin thinks, holding him closer while closing the window with his free hand.
"You did everything you could. I'm sure he was happy while you cared for him."
Seungmin wipes tears on Changbin's shoulder. The devastated look on his face makes Changbin's chest ache.
"You think? Maybe it was Kori coming to say goodbye. Maybe they're both happy now?"
Changbin doesn't say more. They stand by the window awhile longer, swaying slightly like reeds in the wind.
***
A month later, Changbin practically runs up to their apartment. "Seungmin should still be working," he thinks, unlocking the door. No one greets him - Seungmin must be wearing headphones - and Changbin is early anyway. He drops bags in the hallway, tosses his jacket on the console, and heads to the improvised office on the balcony.
Seungmin sits hunched over reports, back to the door, but perks up at the vibration of footsteps.
"You're early," he says, standing to slip into Changbin's arms. Changbin kisses him gently on the lips. Holds him tighter and kisses him again - several times, until Seungmin stares in surprised confusion.
"What's this about?"
Changbin laughs and pecks his cheek. "It's a good day."
Seungmin smiles coyly. "Yeah?"
"Mm. Help me unpack?"
Seungmin nods shortly and turns off his laptop. Changbin grabs the heaviest bag from the hallway and practically skips to the kitchen, smiling mysteriously.
"Did you go to the gym today?" Seungmin calls from the hallway - he must have seen the sports bag.
Changbin hums affirmatively.
"Oh, while you're there, can you throw my shirt in the wash? Since I remembered," he calls over his shoulder casually, putting soda and canned goods in cabinets.
Then he hears something drop.
"Hyung?"
Seungmin's voice is questioning. Shocked, even. Changbin grins ear to ear.
Seungmin stands in the hallway looking utterly stunned. His arms hang limply at his sides as he stares at Changbin with wide, bead-like eyes. Peeking from the bag is the contented snout of a plump little puppy with curly light fur and equally round, bead-like eyes.
"Why'd you call me?" Changbin teases. Seungmin looks between him and the bag repeatedly, short-circuiting. Several moments pass before he asks:
"Who's this?"
Changbin smiles but steps closer to ground Seungmin with a hand on his forearm.
"A dog? No name yet - thought you'd want to choose." His voice comes out softer than intended.
Seungmin still doesn't comprehend, blinking rapidly. Changbin kneels by the bag, nudging it aside to lift the puppy.
"What are you doing?" Seungmin panics, reaching out. "Your allergies!"
Changbin happily hands him the puppy, watching as it cocks its head between them in confusion. They're comically similar.
"Won't be a problem. I've spent this whole month getting tested, and this little guy too, by the way."
Seungmin looks questioningly as the puppy licks his fingers and tries for his face.
"That attack was from fleas, not the dog, Seungmin. And I have no reaction to this one, unlike others," Changbin pets its back as proof. "The doctor said if we maintain hygiene and clean often, it'll be fine."
Seungmin sets the squirming puppy down and meets Changbin's gaze.
"Sorry, I wanted to find one like yours, but I'm 100% reactive to that breed. But this one's good too, right?"
Changbin rubs his neck sheepishly as Seungmin tilts his head back, clearly fighting tears.
"And still he cries."
Seungmin clings to him, smiling through tears. "We're really keeping him?" he asks again.
Changbin nods. The puppy, catching their joy, yips and jumps at their feet. Changbin watches Seungmin play with it all evening on their kitchen floor and thinks how remarkably alike they look.