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Hyunwoo’s called for the second time today. Earlier – the first boy – had been so young, only twenty. His name was Changkyun.
When Hyunwoo came for him, he was asleep. As Hyunwoo stepped closer to the dying boy’s bed, he stirred slightly, and then cracked both eyes open. He looked astounded, at first, almost confused - but as realization sank in, his expressions softened; calmed.
“I’ve been calling for you,” Changkyun greeted sleepily. He was smiling, a beautiful, toothy smile, painting a ray of sunshine all over his face. It only occurred to Hyunwoo then how badly this boy must’ve suffered.
“Are you ready for me?” Hyunwoo asked softly, his voice flowing like a river. As he approached him, he noticed how small Changkyun really was. His skin was white as winter. His eyes, red-rimmed and unfocused, were fading.
“Please,” the boy pleaded, his voice brittle. This time, he actually looked sad.
When Hyunwoo reached his bedside, he loomed over him, sneaking his arms up to his sides, holding him gently. He smiled down at the boy ruefully, and as he did so, one silent tear that Changkyun was unable to hold back fell silently down his cheek. He still managed to smile back.
Hyunwoo let his black wings spring up from his shoulder blades with a loud ruffle. Changkyun’s eyes grew at the sight, appreciating what he could before his breath got deeper, heavier. “You’re free, now,” Hyunwoo murmured, before leaning in and pressing a kiss onto the boy’s lips. And then he was gone.
It was terminal. The boy’s parents had given up on him long ago, when they ran out of things to sell and people to scrounge money from. When Hyunwoo kissed him, he could taste the heartbreak, and after a second, the relief. He pulled away and saw the boy smiling lifelessly. He left with a foreign ache in his heart.
This next call – another boy, Hoseok; didn’t exactly summon him. Hyunwoo’s been assigned to him, to a run-down hospital on the outskirts of Seoul. A raggedy part of the city, the one less likely to be celebrated by tourists.
Hyunwoo arrives in Hoseok’s room and lands on his heels quietly. Hoseok is apparently awake, sitting upright on his bed, facing away from him. The faint sound of a heart rate machine beeping regularly could be heard from the next door.
“Shin Hoseok,” Hyunwoo calls in a modulated voice. He can see the other’s shoulders jerk up in surprise, and he turns to him so quickly, alarmed. And at that moment, Hyunwoo can feel it. It’s rushing toward him in waves. Fear.
Hoseok takes in all of Hyunwoo at a gallop, from the strands of hair sticking up – the enormous ebony wings shimmering under the room’s yellowish light – the wreath of poppies ornament on his chest – to his bare toes. Hyunwoo almost appears benevolent. Hoseok stares at him, mouth agape, until the cool air forces him to blink.
“Who— who are you?”
It never happens before, but as soon as Hoseok speaks up, Hyunwoo’s mind reels in his head. Hyunwoo looks at the mortal and sees a face from his past, an old story that still makes his heart clench at the thought. It’s uncanny— absolutely crazy, Hoseok looks and sounds exactly the same as Hyunwoo’s oldest friend, a fallen warrior angel whose name still tastes sour on the tip of his tongue. Minhyuk, was the precise portrait of the man sat in front of him now, if not more stunning, more seraphic.
“I think you know who I am,” Hyunwoo manages, his heart already drumming in his ribcage. He’s absent-mindedly changed his speaking tone – more casual; less soothing. Indecorous. Not a lot of humans get to hear it.
“No,” Hoseok whispers, his head hanging low. What Hyunwoo originally felt as fear is slowly turning into something else. “It can’t be my time yet,” he looks up at Hyunwoo, the despair and pain erupting from him like a volcano, and soon his cheeks are wet and salty.
Hyunwoo loves all mankind, that much is true. As an angel, he’s bound to love all of God's creation – a love that asks nothing in return. But as Hoseok sobs in front of him, his face contorting into a portrait of grief, Hyunwoo’s chest swells like nothing else. All he wants to do is reach out and wipe the tears staining Hoseok’s milky white skin with his thumb, but he can’t. He can’t, but he does.
“I’m sorry,” Hyunwoo finds himself saying in a small voice. “But your time is up,” he rubs circles on Hoseok’s damp cheek, and although Hyunwoo cannot feel pain, he pictures it would be a very close resemblance to what he’s feeling now.
Hoseok’s energy is radiating off of him, and it’s just pure sadness now. No fear, no desperation. Hoseok leans into Hyunwoo’s touch like it’s only natural to do so, closing his eyes and letting small snivels escape his trembling lips. He feels warm – alarmingly so – under Hyunwoo’s hand. Before he has a chance to say anything more, Hyunwoo’s hit by a sudden pang of nausea, making him jump back abruptly.
Hoseok looks as startled as Hyunwoo does. “What was that?”
“I—” Hyunwoo starts, but he has absolutely nothing. It’s new to him, too, not knowing what’s happening. “I have to go,” he manages hoarsely. He feels itchy all over, like his body is too big for his skin, and Hoseok reaches out to him, gingerly placing his hand on Hyunwoo’s arm out of concern. It feels electric.
Hyunwoo bites back the urge to flinch away before spreading his wings wide apart, swallowing himself, and flees.
Hoseok is left back alone in a flash with a trail of jet-black feathers showering over him. “Will you be back?” he asks belatedly to the ceiling, catching one single feather in his hand and inspecting it. Pretty, he thinks.
Hyunwoo lets the wind take over, thrashing his wings like a running stream. He’s never been afraid before – it being such a humane expression – but he thinks he is now. Images of Hoseok keep finding their way into his line of vision; his faded champagne blonde hair, the long fringe falling down past his eyebrows, his eyes, flecks of warm chocolate married with lighter hues gazing at him in awe, his steady inhale and exhale when Hyunwoo held him, the worried look painted across his face when Hyunwoo left… and Hyunwoo falls.
The thing is, once Hyunwoo takes someone’s life, he wouldn’t be able to see them again. His job is to deliver men from the pains and sorrows of life, and that’s about as specific as it gets. The life after is not his territory, and he has no place to mingle there. Every angel has their own purpose, and his is to give out the gentle kiss of death to the rightful ones, only that.
This Hoseok— Hyunwoo wants to keep seeing him. It’s unorthodox; angels were not supposed to have desire. But Hyunwoo feels it, prickling under his skin, longing to touch, longing to love. He knows he’ll get in trouble for it, this kid was supposed to die, and yet he’s here, probably confused out of his mind and still, a little scared. On the other hand, Hyunwoo is still alien to the human emotions, but the constant warmth in his chest is pleasant in any case, so he lets it be.
The next day, Hyunwoo is free of duty for the morning so he decides to pay the human a visit.
“Hello,” Hyunwoo says lowly, careful not to scare him, the corners of his eyes crinkled.
Hoseok’s sitting on his bed, reading, and turns to the angel with a knowing smile. “I thought you got the wrong guy yesterday,” he closes his book and sets it aside. “I guess not, huh?” There’s a hint of sadness in his smile, he’s anticipating it, and Hyunwoo can’t blame him.
“I didn’t,” Hyunwoo replies easily. He moves closer, his wings safely tucked behind him now, and he senses it again. Fear. “Please don’t be afraid.”
“I’m really gonna die, aren’t I?” Hoseok questions before chuckling sardonically. “I cried like crazy yesterday, I’m ready,” he says assuredly, lying back down on the bed and closing his eyes. He’s still as mesmerizing as Hyunwoo remembers him being the day before. Hyunwoo would say he looks almost at ease, if not for the rapid beating of his heart.
“No,” Hyunwoo announces. “Not today, not tomorrow,” he continues, and Hoseok opens his eyes, his brows lifting up in disbelief. “Just don’t worry about it, you can trust me.”
Hyunwoo can practically hear the gears inside Hoseok’s mind turning. “Why have you come for me then?”
“To tell you the truth, you were supposed to die yesterday. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, so,” Hyunwoo shrugs, “Maybe I’m not even gonna take your life after all. At least not anytime soon.”
Hoseok laughs at that. The sound of his laughter, bright and cheerful like dandelions during summer time, echoes in the entire room. Hyunwoo senses the relief and smiles himself, too.
“Can you even do that?” Hoseok asks once his laughter dies down.
“Not really,” he replies, and Hoseok laughs again. If Hyunwoo had a favourite sound before, the sound of Hoseok laughing might be his new one.
“Hey, can you come here, please?” Hoseok calls. He’s giving Hyunwoo the same look he gave him when they first met.
Hyunwoo immediately obliges, his steps light and graceful. Once he gets close – enough to feel the proximity heating up his entire body – he stops.
“Can I… Touch your, um, wings?” Hoseok asks with a prominent blush dusting his cheeks. “I’ve always wanted to— they look so soft, so beautiful,” he attempts boring holes into the object of his wonder, unable to meet Hyunwoo’s eyes.
Hyunwoo laughs effortlessly. “Sure,” he lets his wings out, lets them breathe for a second, extending them as far as they go. He then envelopes the both of them, bringing the wings closer to Hoseok. “There you go,” he says, almost bashfully.
“Whoa,” Hoseok says as he runs his hand through the wings. He touches them intently, feeling the bones underneath, relishing the silkiness of the feathers. “God, how beautiful. Black is my favourite colour,” he mumbles distractedly. Hyunwoo just watches him, his breath catching in his throat. When their eyes meet, Hoseok smiles so brightly up at him it’s almost blinding.
“You’re so beautiful,” Hoseok blurts out nonchalantly, his eyes still transfixed on the wings in amazement. It takes a whole five seconds before awareness finds its way back to him. “Oh— I mean, your wings, gosh, they are, but that doesn’t mean you’re not, because you are, all of you is, what—”
“Thank you, kindly,” Hyunwoo cuts him, trying to sound cool. The tightness in his chest grows when he meets Hoseok’s eyes again. They’re so warm, alluring, and full of fondness Hyunwoo thinks he doesn’t deserve. No one’s ever looked at him that way, ever, in all of his life. Before his better judgments can scream in protest at him, Hyunwoo leans in, and kisses Hoseok’s cheek.
When Hyunwoo pulls away, Hoseok looks as if his brain short-circuits and needs to be rebooted.
“Are you okay?” Hyunwoo asks after a minute passes and Hoseok is still staring at him.
When Hoseok finally blinks, his eyes water. “Can you do that again? Can I do that to you?” he asks hurriedly, the tip of his ears now a warm red.
Hyunwoo giggles. “As long as it’s not on the lips,” Hyunwoo manages to say before he’s pulled in into another kiss, this time landing on his neck. Hoseok kisses him with his mouth open, licking and nibbling at the pulse, and Hyunwoo feels light-headed. He places his wings back in place and climbs onto the bed, on top of Hoseok. Hoseok is emitting a wave of energy again, and Hyunwoo can feel it, too, it starts in his neck and works its way down.
Hoseok keeps kissing him, from his neck down toward the exposed skin of his chest poking through his shirt, and Hyunwoo’s drenched in these odd sensations he’s never felt before inside of him, warm and tingly and he thinks his heart might burst.
It all cuts short when he picks up a small voice calling him. It sounds so far, so frail, but it’s there. Calling for him.
“Hey,” Hyunwoo calls, a little out of breath, “Hoseok, someone needs me.”
Hoseok looks up, his entire face flushed, his lips swollen. “Oh?”
Hyunwoo brings a hand up to caress Hoseok’s face, cracking a smile at him. “I have duties, remember?”
Hoseok hastily gets up and pulls Hyunwoo with him. “Oh my god! Shit, you better hurry,” he scrambles to straighten Hyunwoo’s now-wrinkly top, styling his hair back neatly, and Hyunwoo just chuckles.
“It’s fine, I’ll be back tomorrow,” he convinces him.
Before Hyunwoo takes off, Hoseok tugs at his hand. “I don’t know your name,” he says matter-of-factly, ducking his head to stare down at his feet in embarrassment. “I mean, I know what they call you, but—”
“Hyunwoo,” he clarifies. He goes by many names, and he never really minds what the mortals call him. Any name is fine, but Hyunwoo figures, he’d like it more if Hoseok addresses him by his real name.
Hoseok was probably expecting a cooler name, a city name, and it shows in his face. “Hyunwoo,” he murmurs, tasting if he likes how the syllables roll off of his tongue. “Hyunwoo,” he says again, with a grin tugging at his lips. “See ya.”
Hyunwoo nods and leaves in the bat of an eye. He flies to the source of the hushed cry of his name, the more well-known one, with a lingering warmth at the pit of his stomach.
Hyunwoo comes back to the hospital the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, too. He visits Hoseok every day, greeting him with a smile that’s almost permanently plastered on his face by now. Hoseok welcomes him with a mirrored expression, guiding Hyunwoo onto his bed, and spends their time kissing each other’s bodies, cuddling, and talking. Hyunwoo tells him everything; stories about his fellow angels, his siblings, his parents, his fallen friend— Minhyuk, about the power above, the life as Hoseok knows it, and the life after that.
Hoseok, in return, spills everything about himself to Hyunwoo, too. He doesn’t have to, since Hyunwoo can read his whole life story just by looking at him, but the angel says nothing. He enjoys how animated Hoseok is when he tells his stories, how emotional he gets, so he listens. Hoseok’s voice lulls him into a place faraway in his mind, a place where he opened his eyes for the first time, where everything is white and pure, and sometimes he’d stay there when Hoseok’s asleep.
Hyunwoo first notices the changes on his twelfth visit. Hoseok looks ashen, his lips breaking out and turning a shade bluer. He still smiles up at him like nothing’s wrong, thinking he can trick Hyunwoo into believing everything is still A-okay. It’s not, and no one can fool an angel.
Hoseok’s health subsequently deteriorates over time. His once vibrant, lively eyes have turned hollow. Hyunwoo suspects someone, something out there has finally learned what’s happening between him and the mortal by now. It’s been almost two months since Hyunwoo was first assigned to take Hoseok’s life, and it’s no surprise if he’s been caught. He should’ve been caught long ago.
“Baby,” Hoseok calls to him one night, on their fortieth day. “Hyunwoo, I’m in pain,” he says softly.
Hyunwoo knows what’s coming. He sucks in a shaky breath, feeling his throat constrict. Panic rises like bile in his body. “Do you want some more medicines?”
“The meds are giving me a nasty taste in my mouth that won’t go away,” Hoseok whines, trying to sound childish. “It won’t go away, Hyunwoo. The pain won’t go away,” he ends up sounding choked, defeated.
“I’ll do anything,” Hyunwoo’s lips quiver as he lets the promise out. He knows he’s not going to keep it. He feels it now – pain – all over his body, clawing at his skin, immobilizing him in his spot. “But you know I can’t heal you.”
“You can kiss me,” Hoseok mutters weakly and offers him a smile. He’s afraid – Hyunwoo can sense it.
“I can’t,” Hyunwoo shakes his head. He takes Hoseok’s hands in his, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. “Please don’t ask me to do that.”
It’s an incredibly egotistical thing to say. Hoseok is hurting.
“We’ll find each other again,” Hoseok says, mainly to comfort himself. He looks up at Hyunwoo, flashing him a broad smile. “I will find you.”
The anxiety curls deep into Hyunwoo’s stomach, like hands scratching up his throat and choking him, preventing him from letting any words out. It’s not true, it’s not possible. Hoseok would have to move on, but Hyunwoo can’t follow him. He has to stay. And Hoseok knows that, too, Hyunwoo’s made that clear to him once. Hyunwoo feels excruciatingly small, helpless, but perhaps that’s a part of him turning more human.
Hoseok closes his eyes, lying back on the pillow that smells more like Hyunwoo now.
Hyunwoo sprawls his wings from behind him, and they tremble, along with his entire body. He doesn’t notice some of the feathers falling off and turning dead grey on the floor. He leans in slowly, and touches their noses together. “Hoseok, open your eyes, please, look at me,” he breathes shakily.
And when Hoseok does, it’s just like the first time they laid eyes on each other.
“I love you,” Hyunwoo confesses, and sees tears dripping down Hoseok’s ice cold cheeks as he chants the words over and over. He rises his long, slender fingers to wipe the wetness away, and then presses his lips onto Hoseok’s. He tastes it all. Relief. Love. Resolve. I will find you.
“Every me loves every you.”
Hoseok’s lips curve up into a little smile before Hyunwoo feels his life force winks out completely; like a candle being snuffed.
Time stops to a halt. Every detail surrounding Hyunwoo is clear and sharp as glass, but incomprehensible. The enormity of the change hasn't registered to him yet. It's disorienting, a foundation stone falling into the sea. Hoseok is still there, right in his arms where he thought it was safe, but he’s not breathing anymore. He’s not beaming off any type of energy like he usually would, it’s just— empty. And cold. Really cold.
Hyunwoo flees quickly from the scene, his wings giving out under the weight of his aching heart, and he finds himself letting the wind take him wherever it wants to again. The moment he feels a tickle upon his cheek, he brings up a thumb and spots the target that’s dripping slowly. It’s black. Then, like a switch, reality sets in, and the angel feels it. All of it – the human emotions – so vulnerable, so angry, empty, lost, upset. As much as he tries to hold it in, the pain comes out like an uproar from his throat in the form of a silent scream. The beads of black liquid start falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping. And it burns, God, how it burns his face. He feels drained, and he wants nothing to do but rest. So Hyunwoo closes his eyes, and falls. He falls, and falls, and keeps falling.