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‘Thank you for booking your stay with us here at the Grand Josun Busan! Please confirm that your reservation is correct, and don’t hesitate to contact us if any problems arise. We look forward to your arrival, and hope you enjoy your time visiting Busan!’ Jung-bae’s computer screen blinks back at him. It’s warm in his lap while they lay in bed, but Dae-ho is even warmer asleep and pressed against his side.
They had decided a few weeks ago they were well overdue for a vacation, and next week seemed as good a time as any. Something fun to celebrate the one year anniversary of escaping the games, that’s how they’ve been putting it. It would be more accurate to call it a distraction from said anniversary, but it’s much more fun and far less depressing to frame it as a commemoration of life and finding each other in the worst of places.
Haeundae Beach is a short walk away from the hotel Jung-bae picked out for them, and neither Dae-ho nor Jung-bae had ever been to the beach or the famous Haeundae Plaza and Gunam-ro Road that runs alongside it. The way Dae-ho’s eyes lit up when Jung-bae had shown him all the places they could take real ‘couples photos’, he doesn’t think he could ever forget it.
“Hyungnim, we could get dressed up! Look, it’s a real studio with nice lights and everything!” Dae-ho had replied excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. It’s not that Jung-bae is overly keen on the pictures, but it’s also not like he and Dae-ho would ever have the chance to have ones from any official ceremony. Jung-bae had been deadly serious when he invited Dae-ho into his pub and his home and told him to stay there for as long as he liked, and he’s even more serious in his thoughts that he hopes it’s forever.
Dae-ho is his person, just as Jung-bae is Dae-ho’s, and despite the wedding bells tolling in his head every time he looks at Dae-ho’s smile, it’ll never come to fruition. Sure, he’d like it to, and so would Dae-ho. The government would not, so Jung-bae will offer the fancy studios up in lieu of a wedding.
Maybe it’s silly, and far too fast to hear those bells. Jung-bae doesn’t care, hasn’t cared since the first time they tolled. Why care when the way he feels about Dae-ho is so much deeper than the way he ever felt about his ex-wife? He had married her, and the love they shared doesn’t hold a candle to the amount of affection he feels even when Dae-ho does something simple like come out of the bathroom with toothpaste still on the corner of his mouth.
Regardless of these waffling thoughts, Jung-bae closes the computer and settles in for the night. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” he whispers even though Dae-ho’s been snoring for an hour, and pulls them together so close that when they wake, they might have melded into one person. It’s the only way Jung-bae can get a proper sleep anymore.
“Booked the hotel last night. They even sent me another email this morning thanking me for choosing one of their expensive suites. I can guarantee it, there’ll be a bottle of wine waiting for us when we check in.” Jung-bae murmurs around his mug of coffee in the morning.
“A bottle of wine for you, Hyungnim.” Dae-ho corrects with a laugh, and then goes back to sorting his meds out into a fancy pill holder Jung-bae bought him after he kept forgetting to take them. True, not like alcohol and prescription drugs mix very well.
“You’re right, I’ll drink it all before you even get a chance.” Jung-bae teases back, and subtly rearranges the incorrect Monday, Wednesday and Friday doses Dae-ho placed into the pill holder with shaky hands.
“Huh? Drink what? Your coffee? Don’t tell me I messed it up again, Hyungnim. I know I threw the old grounds out, so it shouldn’t be too bitter.” Dae-ho replies, but turns around to peer into the garbage can to check anyway.
“It’s perfect, Dae-ho. Don’t worry about it, I’d drink it even if it was too bitter.” Jung-bae means it too, he’d drink whatever Dae-ho made him even if his morning coffee ended up as tea, hot chocolate, or orange juice. All are equally feasible, and all of them have happened before. He takes the wandering train of thought with a grain of salt as well, because he’s all too used to it.
Non-fatal anoxic brain injury, that’s the official name for it. The hospital staff made sure Jung-bae knew just how lucky Dae-ho was to survive it. During that horrible fourth game, hide and seek, Jung-bae and Gi-hun had been assigned as red-vested murderers and Dae-ho as a blue-vested victim. Jung-bae fought like hell to get Gi-hun to come back to reality, come back around to the idea that it was not Dae-ho’s fault Young-il died.
“You said it, Gi-hun! You told us it was all because of the men upstairs, the people who watch us and make bets! Why, why are you deadset on blaming Dae-ho? This isn’t the Seong Gi-hun I know. The Seong Gi-hun I know wouldn’t hunt someone down in cold blood!” Jung-bae had tried in those labyrinthine night sky dotted halls, over and over again until Gi-hun somehow managed to ditch his tail.
Along the way to finding him again, Jung-bae had put someone out of their misery and passed the round. But the time delay to pass the round and Gi-hun’s ridiculous, dogged, strung-out notion that it was Dae-ho’s fault resulted in finding his oldest friend on top of his newest one and strangling the life out of him. Gi-hun was too sleep-deprived, food-deprived, empathy-deprived anymore to fight Jung-bae’s strong shove and pull, but at that point, the damage was done. Dae-ho was half-dead, wheezing and making horrid crackling noises that Jung-bae was terrified of. He lost his oldest friend that day, because when he did come to his senses, all that rageful conviction drained out of Gi-hun and he spent the last minutes of his life apologizing for what he’d done.
The night following had been the worst night of Jung-bae’s life, scared to his wit’s end that those crackling noises from Dae-ho’s mouth would suddenly stop and he’d lose his newest friend as well. He didn’t, and all that praying throughout the night to any higher power that could hear him must have paid off because they escaped during the next vote with their lives intact. Or perhaps, intact isn’t the best word to use. Non-fatal anoxic brain injury. It consumed the following few months of their lives, wholly spent in the hospital and helping Dae-ho recover from it.
He recovered well, because despite what the outcome of the rebellion might indicate, Jung-bae’s love is a fighter. His love is so brave, and maybe he forgets things far too easily now and sometimes has trouble concentrating and has shaky hands and gets what the doctors call complex-partial seizures that require all those medications, but despite it all, his love still keeps going. Still keeps making him his morning coffee, or tea or hot chocolate or orange juice. Still wants to take pictures together in fancy outfits. Still fawns over Jun-hee’s daughter when the two of them come to visit, even if he doesn’t hold her. Still says he wishes that things between him and Gi-hun could’ve ended differently, and doesn’t mean the part where Gi-hun attacked him but instead the regret at his actions pushing Gi-hun to the point that he felt he needed to in the first place.
“What were we talking about, Hyungnim?” Dae-ho asks, clearly trying to recall the details of their early morning conversation. Some days are worse than others.
“The hotel, baby. For our vacation. Haeundae Beach, just a few days away. They sent me an email this morning about the reservation I made for us.” Jung-bae gently reminds him, and nudges the pill box so Dae-ho will take the Sunday dose.
“Right. Sorry, Hyungnim. The coffee is good, you said?” Dae-ho asks with a sly grin, taking the hint and the medication dutifully, as well as fishing for a compliment.
“I’ve had worse.” Jung-bae teases back, and pulls the email up to show him.
The hotel suite is massive, and does have a bottle of wine in a fancy looking bucket waiting on the table. It’s sweet, made all the more sweeter by the way Dae-ho pours him a glass. Maybe some sloshed over the sides, but they’re here together and what more could Jung-bae ask for?
For tonight, the beach can wait. All Jung-bae wants to do is spend their first night in the hotel lounging around on the fancy sheets in comfy clothes, watching TV and running his hands through Dae-ho’s hair while they cuddle close. Sure, it’s the anniversary of something that even the worst word in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. But, it’s also the anniversary of Dae-ho and Jung-bae making it out together. If they could get married, he doesn’t think the ‘for better or for worse’ could be more meaningful to anyone else but them. Jung-bae savors every single second they spend together, especially the times when Dae-ho falls asleep first and reminds Jung-bae just how much comfort Dae-ho finds in him when they’re together too.
“Make sure you don’t miss a spot, I can’t afford to get skin cancer at my age.” Jung-bae jokes as Dae-ho rubs sunscreen into his back. The following morning, they got up early and headed down to the beach armed with chairs, umbrellas and towels and savored the way the burning sand on their feet reminded them they’re alive. There’s also the added benefit of seeing Dae-ho in his swim trunks, strong arms and slightly soft stomach on full display to Jung-bae’s ever-seeking eyes.
“You’re not even going in the water, I bet you don’t even get out from under the umbrella.” Dae-ho shoots right back, and turns around so Jung-bae can return the favor.
“Of course not, it’s my vacation too. I prefer sight-seeing, thank you very much.” Jung-bae scoffs, leaving out the fact that the sight he’s keen on seeing isn’t the award-winning horizon but instead the wonderful view of Dae-ho going swimming and then coming back with his hair drenched and sticking to his neck, and those swim trunks glued to his thighs.
It doesn’t have to be said though, Dae-ho apparently gets it all too well anyway. “You’re a pervert, Hyungnim.” he deadpans, but still leans into Jung-bae’s hands on his back where they’re rubbing in the sunscreen maybe a bit too much.
“You’ll understand it when you’re older, Dae-ho. It’s really the simple things in life that matter, like lounging on the beach and staring at your partner’s ass that looks great in that bathing su-”
“Shut up, Hyungnim. I’m leaving now.”
Jung-bae doesn’t miss the way Dae-ho preens as he leaves, or the clear display of strength he’s showing off when he swims much too far out and rides the waves all the way back. “As if he doesn’t like it.” Jung-bae mutters to himself, but also kind of wishes he had binoculars.
After he comes back, sufficiently soaked and salty from the ocean water, Jung-bae hands him the leftover kimbap they ordered last night that he’d brought down with them. Dae-ho’s always hungry, and Jung-bae’s always happy to provide. Happy to stare as he swallows it too, thoroughly enjoying the way his neck works as he tries to multitask between eating and talking. Maybe I really am a pervert. Jung-bae thinks to himself as he watches. Who gives a shit? he concludes, and keeps on staring.
“S’good. Better than last night.” Dae-ho says with a mouthful of rice and seaweed. Jung-bae’s gaze shifts from Dae-ho’s neck to his hands, noting how the constant slight wobble is slowly growing more pronounced.
“I have more packed up, if you want it. Figured you would be hungry after swimming.” he replies carefully, but leans up in his beach chair to keep a closer eye.
“You have…what? Swimming?” Dae-ho mumbles back, only half-coherent and dropping the piece of kimbap he was holding. He’s trying to stand up, so Jung-bae finally gets up to stand in front of him and murmurs, “Spit it out, spit the food out. Come on, you’re alright.” He’s well-versed in these, they always come on fast. Food is generally not considered conducive to safety whenever this happens.
It’s not a full blown seizure, not like the ones Jung-bae used to associate with the word. Complex-partial is the term they were taught, directly as a result of the brain damage. Dae-ho walks around aimlessly during them, looks like he’s daydreaming and usually brings his hands up to his chest where they twitch incessantly until it's over. As soon as he started taking the medication, the frequency of them decreased but, of course, with something as permanent as what he has…they’ll never go away completely. It’s such a shame, Jung-bae always thinks, not only because Dae-ho is his and his baby still has to suffer through it, but also because he knows that this is never what Gi-hun would’ve wanted. Not if he was in his right mind, like those last few minutes before the timer ticked to zero.
“You’re okay, baby. It’s alright, it’ll pass. I’m here, I’m always here. Don’t worry, you’re fine.” Jung-bae murmurs on repeat, trying to infuse as much comfort into the tone that is reserved for Dae-ho’s ears only and continually guiding him back to their umbrella each time he starts to wander off. He can’t really hear that comforting tone right now, but Dae-ho has told him in hushed confessions before that it helps anyway.
They come on fast, but don’t last long either. Maybe a few minutes at most, just like this time.
“W-what…why are we…at a beach?” Dae-ho slurs out, and flexes his hands that have surely cramped up from the awkward position. Jung-bae guides him back to the umbrella and into a chair one final time, and spreads his hands out to massage the tension away.
“We’re on vacation. Celebrating, remember? You went swimming, and we’re going to take some nice pictures tonight.” Jung-bae replies, keeping his tone calm and comforting in the aftermath. It also usually takes an additional few minutes for Dae-ho to regain his bearings, so Jung-bae just repeats his answer with a smile each time Dae-ho asks the same question again. Once he’s satisfied that any lingering pain has been worked out of Dae-ho’s fingers, he weaves theirs together and holds on tight. As an anchor for Dae-ho to ground himself on, sure, but mostly as an additional layer of comfort that says ‘I’m right here, baby.’
“Sorry, Hyungnim. I didn’t mean to.” Dae-ho says much more clearly a few minutes later, but under his breath like he’s ashamed of something that isn’t his fault and worried he’s ruined their day.
Jung-bae just shushes him, trying to silence that line of thinking, and pulls their chairs together. Dae-ho lets himself be rearranged into their usual position; his head on Jung-bae’s chest and their hands intertwined so tightly it’s like they’re glued together. He doesn’t care one bit that anyone walking by can see them, none of that has ever mattered when it comes to Dae-ho. Not from the day they met, and Jung-bae let Dae-ho cling all over him in full view of every single cynical person in those dorms. “Don’t apologize over something that isn’t worth it. Apologize for making me get up instead. I was comfy, and I had a great view.” Jung-bae teases, like he always does.
“Okay, okay. Then I’m sorry for making you get up Hyungnim. To be fair, I wanted to keep eating the kimbap. I would’ve, if not for all…that.” Dae-ho says while stifling a yawn. Jung-bae knows this bit too, it’s partly the reason he pulled their chairs together in the first place, so Dae-ho could take a nap on him. They tire Dae-ho out, these seizures. He also pulled them together so he could simply feel Dae-ho’s chest expanding and shrinking against his own. It is the anniversary of that almost stopping, after all.
“Oh, I’m sure you would’ve. You’re a bottomless pit, my credit card is already protesting our dinner tonight.” he needles, because Dae-ho has also told him before that just being himself in the aftermath, being the Jung-bae that, for some reason or another Dae-ho loves, is just as comforting.
“Dinner tonight?” he replies in an excited tone, or rather, as excited as he can muster up.
“I might’ve reserved us a private table somewhere fancy. Something nice to do before those pictures.” It was supposed to be a surprise, but he was kidding himself if he thought he could keep something he knows Dae-ho will love a secret for long.
Dae-ho just buries his face further into Jung-bae’s chest, so close he can feel the warm puffs of breath start to even out. “Wake me up when it’s time to go, Hyungnim.” Dae-ho mumbles, and falls asleep shortly after.
This view is just as good, Jung-bae surmises. The sight of Dae-ho laying on him like a contended cat, slightly sunburned cheeks that bring his moles out and twitching his fingers on Jung-bae’s chest right over where his heart lays beneath, is far more beautiful than the horizon. He can hear those wedding bells tolling again. We made it, hm? Small bumps in the road, sure, little things to deal with because we made it. But we did, and now I get to feel you get comfortable on me underneath an umbrella on a gorgeous day a year later. There’s no greater gift than money and survival, that’s what I used to think. What an idiot, huh? There’s no greater gift than you. Jung-bae thinks to himself while watching Dae-ho sleep. He’ll wake him up later like he asked, but for now he’ll soak up all the comfort he gets out of feeling Dae-ho’s slow inhales and exhales wonderfully absent of that horrible crackling. They prove his love is a fighter, is so brave and so very alive. For Jung-bae, that’s a greater comfort than anything.