Chapter Text
“If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea
I'd give you my lungs so you could breathe”
—
Leehan is about to fall asleep right on the counter— he really is at this point, no exaggerations. His muscles are stiff, and the soles of his feet hurt like crazy. That’s what came with standing for hours without a break, he supposes. It wasn’t like he had a choice, but his body still aches all the same— that bleak weariness in his lungs and heart and chest and limbs. Everything, honestly.
So he’s aching all over and he’d really love to just flop somewhere to sleep for a hundred years. That would be lovely, actually. Become the real-life, modern version of Sleeping Beauty… or something like that.
When he blearily blinks at the clock on the opposite side of the convenience store, he’s pretty sure it says, 2:03 AM… or, well, something like that. Maybe 2:05? Maybe… Maybe 3:03? He honestly can’t tell— and he can’t bring himself to care, either. He’s… tired. That’s really the only word he can think of at this point. He’s just… extremely tired. But he’s okay. (He has to be.)
Okay, well, either way… school ended around three in the afternoon, and he went straight to the cafe to work his shift for three hours… that made $22 and then… from six to eight, another $12 from the bookstore shift… and then another $14 from the eight to ten shift at the pet store (fishes, fishes, fishey?)… and now from ten to three shift at this convenience store… and it was either two or three in the morning then... and if he was doing the math right (math was never his strong suit)… today, he’d been working at least eleven or twelve hours. Whoa, seriously? That was good. It was worth the pain.
When was this shift ending? Was that clock reading 2 or 3?! God— okay, he actually should figure that out. That seemed majorly important. He blinked. And blinked again, squeezing his eyes shut harder, before opening them. The convenience lights burned into his eyes, making his wince, before he squinted at the clock, trying to make out the hands and the numbers.
Oh. It was three. In the morning.
Huh. Had it really been that long, that he’d been standing behind this (stupid, stupid) pink counter (with the stupid matching bright pink staff apron) working the shift?
Well. He was off now, anyway. And he really didn’t feel like working overtime, especially if pay would be the same. Wait, what was he getting paid? Oh, right. $31, which was the biggest amount he was getting paid today. (And out of all his part-time jobs, in general, really.) So… he earned a total of…. uhm… $79. He earned that much today. Which wasn’t enough… but at least he got some money. It’d have to be enough for now. Could probably get Juwon some new crayons for school— or swing by the market this weekend to get some fresh fruits for his mom and little brother.
For now, he stuffed the money into his wallet (surprisingly, it still held things in it).
Leehan rubs his eyes, his arms about to drop out of their sockets. Maybe his feet would fall off too as soon as he started to move from his position. He slumps forward onto the counter, holding in his tears and groans of exhaustion. Then he sluggishly moves to grab the soon-to-expire triangle gimbaps and the banana milks in their cute little plastic containers, and some rice cakes… and then he takes off his apron and hooks it onto the rack in the staff room… then grab his backpack (stupid textbooks, stupid homework— god, he needs to write up that essay by tomorrow).
He waits around for a couple minutes until the next part-timer (a girl with bright green hair and thick eyeliner always chewing on bubblegum) arrives to take over. He gives her a curt nod and hands over the key for her to lock up after her shift, and then he finally exits the convenience store.
Someone is sitting outside on the concrete step in front of the door, a hood over his head— startling Leehan into almost tripping and dropping his plastic bag of to-be-expired food. The figure glances up— and Leehan’s heart that had picked up pace, starts to slow upon realizing this was no serial killer about to murder him at three in the morning.
“Oh, Taesan. You scared me,” Leehan lets out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “I thought you were, like, some serial killer or something.”
The other high schooler blinks at him blearily, before he stands up, brushing off the dust from his pants. He’s still in his school uniform, the blazer over his black hoodie. His hood casts a shadow over his face, but it doesn’t hide the softening of his eyes.
“My bad,” Taesan responds with a yawn. “It’s way darker with that streetlight broken. I think that adds to the scary vibes.” He nods his chin at the street lamp across the street. It’s frankly the only one around for quite a few miles— this part of town is nearly breaking on itself. Everything’s broken and nothing’s getting fixed. Usually the moon would be some source of light around here, but tonight, the clouds had covered it.
“Why’re you sitting around here all creepily anyway?” Leehan laughs, handing his friend a triangle gimbap— tuna, Taesan’s favorite— that he’d fished out from his plastic bag. He doesn’t even think about it before fishing out the tuna one— he always saves it for Taesan. It’s just… how it is.
Leehan pretends his stomach doesn’t growl— and he presses the gimbap into Taesan’s hands anyway. Taesan’s eyes light up (that look in his eyes was honestly better than food for Leehan) as he takes it, unwrapping it as he talks and chewing in between words.
“I figured you would be working here tonight, so I thought I could just swing by and say hi. But then I saw you were busy with some customers, so I decided to wait and then I…” he clears his throat awkwardly. “I kinda… fell asleep here. You woke me up though, just now.”
“You fell asleep?” Leehan repeats incredulously. “Wha— Do you know how dangerous that is?! It’s so late at night, and you’re just sitting here like this, asleep and all vulnerable?! What if there really were a serial killer and they found you the perfect target?”
Taesan rolls his eyes.
“Geez, relax. I’m fine.” He says, swallowing the last bite of his tuna gimbap and licking his lips for the seaweed flakes stuck on them. Leehan’s eyes dart to Taesan’s mouth, before going back to his eyes— annoyance bursts through him at how casual Taesan could be in this situation. The other, unfortunately, really doesn’t seem to get the whole message.
“You were right inside too, anyways. If someone was trying to stab me, I probably would’ve yelled or something— and you would’ve noticed.”
“But what if I couldn’t do anything, huh?” Leehan presses. “I’m not exactly hero material. What would I even do? Bonk the murderer on the head with the broom?”
Taesan blinks and then lets out a laugh, throwing his head back a little— and Leehan frowns, wishing Taesan would take it a little more seriously. This is Leehan’s part of town— he knows it best, and he isn’t joking when he says serial killer. This part of town was the town with all the desperate people, the druggies and the ones with empty stomachs— people would do anything for money and for something to put in their stomachs. Or… to forget about how much it hurt.
This wasn’t Taesan’s part of town. He wasn’t supposed to be here, especially so late at night.
Taesan’s laughter dies out and his gaze softens once again— and Leehan tries not to think about the fact that it’s for him that Taesan’s looking so fondly at. Even if he thinks they’re only friends.
“Bonk them in the broom sounds like a great idea,” he says. “But I’d probably have—”
Taesan cuts himself off, letting out a curse under his breath as something drips down from his nose. He bends forward, cupping a hand over the bottom half of his face, trying to catch the falling blood.
“Ah, shit, shit, shit,” He cusses, swiping at the blood, only for more to dribble out. Leehan’s eyes widen, before he’s curling an arm around Taesan’s frame to tug him inside the convenience store.
“You shoulda just come inside here, idiot, instead of being outside there and falling asleep,” he scolds gently, situating Taesan on one of the chairs by the window. It’s a plastic chair but it’s better than nothing. Leehan lets Taesan sit down, and drops his stuff by Taesan’s feet. (Heavy ass backpack.)
Then Leehan runs over to the counter, where the bored looking green-hair girl looks up from her phone to deadpan at him, to grab some tissues out of the dispenser. Then he jogs right back over to where he’d left Taesan.
The other boy is hunched over in the chair, looking tiny for someone so tall, blood dripping out from between his fingers even with his desperate attempts at blocking them. Some of it has gotten on the floor and some on Taesan’s hoodie— though it’s nothing but a barely-there stain on the black color.
“Here,” Leehan gently moves Taesan’s hand away and dabs a clump of the tissues against the other boy’s nose, letting the blood be absorbed. He stands in front of Taesan for a while, pressing the tissues against the other’s nose until it finally stopped.
“Sorry,” Taesan mumbles out, when Leehan finally pulls his hand and the tissues away (after deeming it safe to do so, and the nosebleed stopped).
Leehan shakes his head. “Don’t be.”
He throws away the bloodied tissues, before handing some more tissues to Taesan for him to wipe his face with. Taesan does that with a sheepish, almost shy smile. Then Leehan’s bending down to wipe the drops of red on the tiles.
“Still. I’m sorry about you having to, you know… clean up my mess for me.” Taesan sighs.
“Taesan,” Leehan says firmly. “It’s okay. I’m used to taking care of everyone. It’s no big deal.”
The blond (Taesan had recently dyed his hair from his natural black to this golden blond that makes him look so much softer) boy frowns, opening his mouth to say something. But the words that eventually come out are different from what he initially mouths.
“Walk me home?” Taesan grins.
“Of course,” Leehan says without missing a beat.
With that, Taesan stands up and Leehan follows his best friend out the door after grabbing his stuff again and ducking his head in ‘goodbye’ at the green-haired girl that doesn’t even notice him doing so. Leehan adjusts the weight of his backpack on one shoulder and fumbles with his plastic bag— but then Taesan gently grabs the plastic bag from his hands.
“I can carry this for you,” He says with a grin. “Let’s go.”
Leehan knows not to protest. What Taesan wants to do, he does— no matter what anyone says. And it wasn’t like Leehan could put up much of a fight against the other.
They walk down the street, and down another block, then another, until they’re now in the neighborhood next door— the better one, the normal one. The complete opposite of Leehan’s neighborhood.
Grand houses line both sides of the street, with small streetcarts parked here and there with friendly ajummas standing there holding warm bunggeoppangs and fish cake soups for anyone passing by in the night, weary and in need of something warm to put in their stomachs.
Leehan hesitates— his pocket feeling heavy— and then decides against it. He can indulge in it another time. Like he always tells himself. Indulging comes second to survival.
Taesan leads the way— and now that there are actually functioning streetlights, they beam across Taesan’s frame. His blond hair glowing in the artificial light, his black hoodie shifting to dark navy and dark green, then back to black. It casts both light and shadows against Taesan— and Leehan reminds himself to look away before he’s caught staring.
They manage to arrive at Taesan’s house in one piece— and definitely not stabbed by any serial killers. Thankfully Taesan’s neighborhood was safer. (Thank god.)
The fairy lights on the trees in front of the house create a soft atmosphere, and there are lights beaming around the ground. Taesan’s house is full of light, even outdoors. It’s everything that Leehan’s house is not, and more often than not, he finds himself wishing this was his house.
Taesan punches in the code and a small tune rings through the air as the front door unlocks. The house is silent— but it’s warm. Life practically thrummed throughout the house, spilling out as soon as the door opened.
And yet Leehan is unable to enter through— stuck on the other side. Always on the other side of everything, the darker and bleaker side.
And now that he’s walked Taesan to his house, and they’re here… he has to leave. All of this is not his, and never would be his. Now, it’s time for him to go back to the dark— as corny as that sounded in his head.
Taesan turns around.
“Can’t you stay over tonight? It’s gonna thunderstorm rain tonight, and it’s so dark,” Taesan says.
“Oh.”
Leehan hesitates.
On the one hand— it would be amazing to stay over in a house that wasn’t actively about to fall down, surrounded by warmth and the smell of flowers perfuming the air from all the flower vases Taesan’s mother put around, in a house that felt more like home than his own—and best of all, a house that had Taesan. And didn’t have his father.
But… on the other hand, Leehan was supposed to take care of his mom and brother. They were counting on Leehan to bring them the money that would go towards food. They were counting on him to bring them dinner tonight.
Selfish, selfish, selfish, his mind scolds. He can’t stay over here, in a house so warm and amazing, while his mom and Juwon rot in their own house.
But… it sounds so good— too good— to resist. And can’t Leehan be a little bit selfish every once in a while? Can’t he choose himself for once?
“…Okay,” Leehan finally responds.
The blond boy grins, and then steps aside for Leehan to enter.
The house is so very much warm. Both the heater humming in the background, and the whole vibe of it. The walls were stark white, but there were wooden picture frames hanging around and flower vases sitting here and there.
Taesan leads them upstairs in silence— no doubt his parents were both asleep right now. Leehan winces at the floorboards creaking. In his house… No, he wasn’t going there right now. Not when he was beginning to feel so warm and cozy here.
Taesan’s room is the same as ever— nothing has changed since the last time Leehan came over which was… at least two months ago. They’ve always hung out at the parks or at the mall arcades. Rarely did they actually go inside each other’s house. Leehan’s, for obvious reasons. Taesan’s, because Leehan was afraid he would eventually overstay his welcome and wear down on the Han family’s kindness towards him— a thought that always made his chest tighten a little.
Taesan’s room is just… well, Han Taesan. Nothing else, nothing more. The walls are a greyish-white, ever inch nearly covered with rock band and basketball star posters. (Mostly Nirvana and MCR.) Taesan’s bed is shoved in the corner, his desk by the window, and his closet by the door. Everything’s shoved into the corners, so that the room that was already huge, seems even bigger— almost swallowing him in the way Leehan felt so small in this light and warmth.
Always reminding Leehan that unlike himself, Taesan had this huge room— this huge house— and most importantly, this warmth, constantly here and blooming across his skin and heart.
It’s painful to compare, and yet Leehan does.
Then there are the more personal touches around the room— the guitar and keyboard in the middle of the room, the hoodies draped over the desk chair, the music sheets and books stacked by the bed, faintly smelling of paper and polish, like the room carried Taesan’s essence itself.
“I’ll grab you some spare pajamas,” Taesan says, and before Leehan can protest that it wasn’t neccesary, the boy’s already gone down the hall. He comes back with a freshly washed hoodie and sweatpants— both his, Leehan notices. (Well, obviously.)
“I don’t know if they’ll fit, because they’re a little baggy on me too,” Taesan murmurs. “I think they stretched in the washing machine.”
Leehan lets out a small chuckle, but it’s more than that— there’s a flutter in his chest, a warmth he can’t quite name.
“They’ll do. Thanks. I mean, it really wasn’t needed, but I guess thank you,” he teases, though his chest feels a little lighter at the gesture.
Taesan makes a mock-outraged expression, before nudging Leehan towards the bathroom down the hall. The floorboard creaks again.
“I need to wash up, so go and change,” He huffs with a barely concealed amused smile.
Leehan laughs, and then disappears into the bathroom. He makes quick work of changing— the sweatpants are so soft, and the hoodie smells like lavendar soap (probably the laundry detergent). He leaves his own shirt on underneath.
He pads into Taesan’s room again where the room owner is splayed across his bed. For a split second, Leehan’s afraid Taesan’s gone and fainted again— but no, thankfully, Taesan’s simply lying down. His eyes are still open, but blinking sleepily at his ceiling, and Leehan feels a soft relief wash through him.
“Hey,” Leehan whispers gently. “Go wash up.”
Taesan lets out a hum, but he doesn’t move. Leehan rolls his eyes, walking over to haul his friend onto his feet.
“Go and wash up. Don’t you dare go on about being tired. You stink,” Leehan wrinkles his nose. “I bet you didn’t even wash up after playing basketball afterschool today.”
“Obviously,” Taesan smirks, before it warps into another yawn.
He looks like a cute little kitten, eyes sleepily blinking at Leehan and mouth opening, before closing, pressed into a thin pink line. Leehan’s heart thunders and so he promptly pushes Taesan towards the door.
As soon as Taesan leaves to wash up, Leehan perches on the edge of Taesan’s bed. Then he deems it impolite to just sit here like this, on someone else’s bed, without permission. (As if he hadn’t done the same thing years back.)
Leehan moves to perch on Taesan’s desk chair, when Taesan’s phone buzzes from on the table. Leehan ignores it. It’s not his place to look at who’s texting Taesan, and frankly it’s impolite to snoop around other people’s messages. The phone buzzes again. And again.
This happens several times before Leehan swallows, unable to push down his curiosity, and he finally glances at the screen.
Ah.
JAEHYUN HYUNG (+5 New Messages)
WOONHAK (+7 New Messages)
SUNGHO HYUNG (+3 New Messages)
RIWOO HYUNG (+1 New Message)
It’s Taesan’s friends.
Leehan’s seen them at school— since middle school till now. Loud and chaotic, but just as warm as Taesan’s house is. Goofing off and tugging each other into squishy hugs, yelling across the school hallways. And… They’ve always been Taesan’s friends, not both Taesan and Leehan’s. Don’t get him wrong— it wasn’t like the four of them left Leehan out. It was more of… the fact that Leehan wasn’t very good at keeping links (which was why Taesan’s was such a rarity). It was the fact that Leehan didn’t really know how to fit into the circle.
Sometimes it made him a little sad. That… even with Taesan, he wasn’t always there, in the circle, in the group. That he was always somewhat of an outsider.
Leehan flips Taesan’s phone so that the screen faces the desk. He’d tell Taesan when he got here.
—
(Leehan has generally accepted the fact that he is deeply in love with his best friend. He has not, in fact, accepted the fact that Taesan is not gonna stay in his life like this forever, because some day Taesan will leave him. That’s a fact. And it won’t change no matter what Leehan does. He’s already an outsider, always in the black zones instead of the white. Sometimes grey. No matter what he does, he’s always a little of an alien.)