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When Keeho left home at 7 pm, dragging his home-addicted boyfriend along for an unplanned triple date at the downtown mall, he certainly expected a healthy dose of chaos. He anticipated the usual bickering sessions about who was most entitled to decide what they were going to do, who was paying for everything, and things like that, as always happened on their group dates.
He definitely didn't expect to have to shove his phone down a Labubu's throat, though.
As he watched, astonished, the small, pink, fluffy creature choke on the device, its large, colorful eyes pierced by halos of unnatural electricity, he couldn't hear anything clearly around him. The noise of the crowd was muffled by the static in his ears. He could only vaguely feel the scrape of shoes against the floor and the panicked rush of bodies around him, people narrowly avoiding falling and crushing each other in their flight from that nightmare. All he could do was stare at the horror, his body freezed in its curled-up position.
It felt dreamlike. The thing writhed before his eyes, taking faltering steps toward him even after the blow. The more it moved, the further his phone slid down its throat, a disgusting, gargling sound echoing from within. Behind it, other Labubus scurried in all directions, drawing ever closer. And yet, as everything unfolded deliriously before him, Keeho simply couldn't move. It's as if he were trapped in an intense trance that pinned all his limbs in place.
They were getting closer. Coming for him. And he couldn't even blink.
He had to move.
He had to.
Just move, Stephen.
His body couldn't hear the warning.
They kept getting closer.
“What are you doing?!” A voice cut through the fog.
It was only when he felt arms wrapping around his torso that his body finally snapped back into functioning. Sounds became audible again. His brain kicked back into gear. As he was hauled to his feet and dragged backward, he blinked rapidly, his heartbeat and breath quickening as he took in the disaster stretching across the mall. People ran in every direction, screaming and shoving, while numerous Labubus of various colors scurried after them. Some people lay on the ground, being swarmed. The creatures' sharp teeth and claws sank into flesh, tearing viciously.
When the full reality of the situation crashed into his mind, a tidal wave of panic washed over him. He struggled violently against the arms dragging him along.
Keeho fought for air. "Let me go!”
“No, no, no, no, no—” The person holding him tightened their grip, pressing their face against his cheek. "This isn't the time for this, Keeho.”
Keeho couldn’t hear, still struggling as he was swept along by the chaos. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw even more Labubus gathering in rows outside the shopfronts, waiting to ambush anyone in their path.
This couldn’t be happening.
It didn’t make sense.
One moment, they were all meeting up outside the movie theater, laughing and chatting, and the next—
There was blood everywhere.
Keeho couldn’t breathe.
The person holding him spun him around, cupping his face and squeezing firmly. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before being forced to look. He breathed heavily, trying to push away, but as his vision focused, the features slowly resolved into something familiar.
Slowly, Keeho stopped fighting, his body going slack.
Taeyang held his chin and let out a sharp huff.
“Finally,” he said, before immediately dragging him away again.
Keeho held onto Taeyang’s arms, resting his head against him as he was pulled along. He sighed deeply, trying to claw back some semblance of sanity — a difficult task while the Labubus kept advancing, their fabric smiles now twisted into evil, sadistic grins, their fur matted with blood.
His eyes widened as one of them gathered momentum to leap, its gaze locked on them. He prepared to shout a warning, but before he could, a loud crack sounded near his ear.
Seconds later, the small creature was on the ground, being trampled by its own frenzied companions.
The next thing he knew, Keeho was being stuffed inside a store.
Taeyang dragged him to the floor behind a shelf, then quickly slammed the glass doors shut, barricading them with a heavy display case. With his ears still ringing, Keeho stared, breathless, at the object tucked into the other's waistband.
He swallowed hard.
"Where," he gasped, shifting against the shelf, "did you get a...a gun?" He squinted, as if the visual might change.
Taeyang took a moment to secure the barricade before glancing over, his eyebrow raised. He touched the weapon on his belt.
"Borrowed it from a security guard," he replied simply.
Keeho blinked.
"...Borrowed it?"
"Well," Taeyang shrugged. "The guy probably doesn't need it anymore anyway.”
Keeho takes a deep breath, rubbing his face.
That couldn't be fucking happening.
They were in line for the movie, popcorn in hand. Intak was arguing with Jiung about something soccer-related that Keeho wasn't listening to and didn't want to, being far more interested in keeping his arms wrapped around his boyfriend's waist. His chin was propped on Jongseob's shoulder, watching his fingers fly across the screen, thumbs swiping over battle controls.
Keeho rolled his eyes, smiling in exasperation.
“Man, I'm telling you, they'll win this time. I have a feeling. Luck is on our side,” he heard Intak chattering behind him.
A snort followed.
“Oh, c’mon, our team isn't as good as you make them sound. When was the last time we won by a landslide?” Jiung argued back.
A click of a tongue.
“How can you say that? There isn't a single patriotic feeling in your body....”
Keeho glanced back at the two arguing. His eyes then landed on a bored Taeyang, who was standing between them holding two bowls of popcorn. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his dead eyes staring at the soda cans being dangerously swayed by Intak's agitated gestures.
Taeyang felt his gaze and they exchanged a look.
Keeho smiled, amused.
‘Poor you,’ he mouthed.
The other gave him a decidedly humorless look in return.
Keeho laughed softly and turned back, resting his chin on Jongseob's shoulder once more. He lightly stroked his waist, feeling him squirm slightly at the touch. A smile played on his lips as he watched him continue his gaming shenanigans.
“Oh,” Keeho began, pressing his lips against the fabric of Jongseob's jacket. "They're going to let us in soon and you still haven't put that thing away?”
Jongseob just let out a noncommittal huff.
Keeho nudged his waist.
“Stop,” Jongseob finally said, trying to wriggle away. He turned his face to Keeho, "I'm not finished with the match yet.”
Keeho shook his head.
"You," he clicked his tongue, pulling the other closer. "I brought you here so you'd stop spending all day playing, and you brought it with you." He brought his mouth closer to Jongseob's ear. "I give up. You're a lost cause.”
Despite his feigned annoyance, Keeho saw a slight curve of the other's lips at his words.
Jongseob continued tapping at the screen, but still managed to direct one more glance at Keeho. His mouth opened wide in a grin, revealing his sharp canines.
“Oh, really?" He arched his eyebrows, a glint in his eyes.
Keeho stared at him.
His smile widened.
“Shota, you took your time," Jiung's voice distracted them from their moment.
Keeho turned his head.
"The bathroom line was long," Shota replied, taking his place in line with them.
“How long...” Jiung's voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing. Then he quickly smiled, presenting the popcorn and soda. "Here, I got this for us."
Shota smiled slightly in return, taking them. He looked at the single bucket.
“Only one popcorn?”
“Yeah, well,” Jiung looked away, a lopsided smile on his lips. "So we can share…”
Taeyang let out a quiet huff.
“A very economical choice,” he said, glancing at Intak.
Intak rolled his eyes, “As if you wouldn't complain about sharing popcorn with me, just like last time.”
“If you didn't take all the popcorn for yourself, I wouldn't have to complain.”
Intak huffed, “Oh, really? You're the only one petty enough to start a fight over sharing something with your own boyfriend.”
Taeyang raised his eyebrows, “Oh, so now I'm petty?”
Jiung and Shota turned away, trying to hold back their laughter. Jongseob shook his head and refocused on his game, leaning back against Keeho's chest. Keeho breathed softly, smiling as the bickering continued.
He kept watching them, his eyes lingering until a flicker of movement in the distance snatched his attention.
Something was darting between the people in line. A small, blue dot moving erratically. Keeho's gaze locked onto it, the smile freezing on his face.
“Okay, I'm done now.”
He slowly turned as Jongseob nudged him.
Jongseob flashed a toothy grin again.
“I won,” he bragged, lifting his hand to press his thumb against Keeho's cheek.
But when he saw Keeho's expression, Jongseob's own smile faltered. His hand fell.
His eyebrows furrowed.
"What's wrong?”
Keeho's mouth opened to speak, but he was cut off by a surge of panicked shouts.
The crowd began to scatter.
Keeho's hand fell away from his face as he looked around.
The wave of panic returned in full force.
He pushed up from the shelf. “Taeyang, where's—"
"Just wait before you freak out again," Taeyang cut him off, moving closer. He ran a hand through his hair and raised his voice, "C’mon, it's safe now!"
Keeho stared at him, confused, until he heard footsteps from the back of the store. He turned his head so quickly his neck gave a sharp protest, his gaze snapping toward the sound. Four familiar faces emerged from the shadows, and the relief that flooded his chest was so immense he had to sink back to the floor, overwhelmed by its weight.
It had attacked a couple nearby, dragging the woman away with a force far too great for such a small creature. And more came after it, spreading like a plague. They could only stare in terror, unable to react as the surging crowd shoved them apart. After a moment, Keeho lost sight of Shota and Jiung entirely, and soon Intak and Taeyang vanished too, their voices swallowed by the screams. He and Jongseob tried to fight their way back to them, but it was impossible, their bodies swept along by the human current.
Then he felt Jongseob's hand slip from his.
He whirled around, watching in horror as the crowd pulled Jongseob away.
"Grab my hand!" Keeho shouted, straining against the tide of bodies.
Jongseob, held back by a group of desperate people, fought to reach for him but couldn't close the gap. He tried and tried and tried, his face twisting in frustration and a flicker of fear.
Fear.
That was an expression that didn't belong on Kim Jongseob.
"I can't!", he yelled back, voice strained. "I can't reach you!"
More people flooded the space between them, pushing them farther apart.
Keeho felt as if his very organs were being shaken loose.
"Jongseob!" he cried out, as the other became a distant figure in the chaos. "Jongseob!"
But then more bodies pressed in, and he lost all sight of him.
Not even his voice could've reached him anymore.
He leaned his head against the shelf and closed his eyes. A moment later, a weight fell into his embrace, and he felt hands grabbing him, clenching something tight inside his chest.
"Are you okay?" The voice finally broke through, resonating in his ears once more.
He felt warm, soft hands cup his cheeks.
"Are you okay?!" Jongseob demanded, his grip tightening.
Hearing the frantic tone, a bubble of hysterical relief burst in Keeho's throat. Laughter escaped him the moment he opened his eyes, and it only intensified when he saw Jongseob's concerned expression fall into one of pure annoyance.
He held the other boy back, his own arms locking around him.
"Do you think this is funny?" Jongseob asked, his voice irritated as he squeezed Keeho tightly. "Why are you laughing?"
Keeho couldn't stop, his laughter a raw release as he stared at the other's scrunched-up face. He seemed fine. There was just a small scratch on his cheek, but that was all. Nothing serious in sight. And if he had enough energy to be this irritated, it meant he was more than fine.
He was safe.
The reaffirmation stopped his laughter. He grabbed Jongseob by the arms and pulled him firmly into his chest, holding him tight.
“You—” The other’s voice was muffled against his shirt, his body tense. "Are you..." he murmured, before letting out a deep, shuddering breath and slapping Keeho’s arm. It was a weak, half-hearted slap, followed by the sudden melting of his body against Keeho’s.
They hugged each other. Felt each other's solidity for a bit.
He almost could forget the circumstances around them.
“Hyung?”
“Keeho?”
“Steph?”
The voices sounded all at once.
He looked to the side and had to fight back everything welling up in his chest from imploding once more, confirming that the others truly seemed to be okay, unharmed, just like Jongseob.
Shota stared at him for a moment before approaching.
Keeho smiled as he watched Shota drop to his knees beside him and held Jongseob to the side so he could pull Shota into a one-armed hug. He squeezed the boy against him, feeling him bury his face in his chest.
Keeho rested his chin on top of Shota's head and let out a soft sigh. "...I'm glad you're okay, too.”
Shota's hands tightened their grip on the fabric of his shirt.
“But are you really okay?” Jiung stepped forward, a crease forming between his eyebrows as his eyes scanned Keeho’s body.
Keeho simply nodded against Shota's head.
Intak sighed, bending down to give Keeho’s leg a firm squeeze. “We couldn't find you anywhere,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “Once we all found each other, you were the only one missing. We thought...I thought that…” He bit his lip, unable to finish.
“He’s fine,” Taeyang cut in, placing his hands on his hips. His eyes swept over Keeho, and his lips lifted in a slight smirk. “Look at him. All limbs intact. He's too annoying to die.”
Keeho snorted.
“Glad that your sense of humor didn't die either.”
Even though he said that, hell if he wasn't glad to hear Taeyang's teasing again.
They were all alive. They were all well, and together.
The only thing that mattered.
Taeyang smiled genuinely this time, but the pleasant atmosphere shattered in an instant. A series of noises erupted against the store doors — scratches and erratic thumps. His smile vanished as he turned to face the entrance. They all held their breath, listening. It sounded like a colony of cats pawing at metal, but with a louder, far more sinister vibration than any household pet.
They stared and waited, but the noise didn't stop.
It was only a matter of time.
“What the fuck,” Keeho started, his brow furrowed. "What the fuck are those things?”
Taeyang’s hand went protectively to the weapon on his belt, his attention split between the group and the door.
“Isn't it obvious what they are?”
Keeho clicked his tongue.
“That's not what I meant.”
"Honestly," Jiung began, kneeling beside Intak as he stared at the doors. "I don't know if it was a short circuit or something. I just know they're…angry. Very angry.”
"They aren't powered by electricity, though," Jongseob said, pulling his head from Keeho's embrace. “They're just...plushies.”
"Killer plushies with the strength of a tiger," Taeyang corrected, pulling the gun from his belt.
“What are you going to do?" Intak's eyebrows shot up, his body tense with alertness.
Taeyang huffed.
“Look, it doesn't matter what the hell they are. Or why it's happening. Demon possession, the revolt of toys — I don't care." He turned his head toward them, checking the gun. "I'm not letting us be killed by Labubus.”
“So what's the plan?" Jiung pressed, "Go out there shooting? There are too many of them.”
“And you're just one person," Intak added, glaring as if he wanted to stand up and shake him. "One who isn't indestructible.”
“Well, I'm the one with the gun.”
"That doesn't mean anything," Jongseob cut in, staring him down. "Stop being an idiot. Like Intak-hyung said, you're not indestructible." He raised a challenging eyebrow. "And martyrdom doesn't look good on you, by the way.”
Taeyang glared back.
Keeho inhaled and exhaled, staring at them all.
Maintaining sanity in that kind of situation wasn't easy, but it was either that or let things spiral completely out of control.
Of all the things that could happen, having a fight was the last thing they needed.
“Guys, calm down," Keeho stated then, trying to keep his voice firm. “Taeyang, they're right. Charging out there alone isn't a good idea.”
"And we aren't letting you do it," Intak said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Taeyang bit his lip until it went red, then slapped a hand against his thigh in frustration, turning his glare back toward the doors.
The noise was undeniably getting worse — the scratching now punctuated by heavy, jarring thuds.
His knuckles were white where he gripped the weapon. He held the pose for a long minute, a statue of conflict, before his shoulders finally slumped in defeat. He looked back at the group, his gaze ultimately landing and lingering on Intak.
A silent, weighted glance passed between them.
Then, Taeyang’s hand relaxed. He let out a sharp breath.
“....Fine,” he conceded, the word dragged out reluctantly. “What do you suggest, then?”
A collective sigh of relief, most audible from Keeho, passed through the group.
“We can’t stay here,” Jiung stated, his brow furrowed in concentration. “These doors won’t hold much longer.”
A heavy silence fell as they all wracked their brains, the frantic scratching underlining their desperation.
“Fire.” Shota said it so suddenly it cut through the noise.
They all stared at him.
Keeho blinked. “...What?”
Shota gently extricated himself from his hug and stood up.
“Fire,” he repeated with a simple shrug.
Jiung tilted his head, a spark of curiosity in his eyes. “Fire…?”
As if pulled by an invisible thread, Shota began to wander deeper into the store, his eyes scanning the shelves. Intrigued, Jiung fell into step behind him. A moment later, Shota stopped, pointed at a specific shelf, and said it a third time, with finality:
“Fire.”
Jiung stared, his gaze distant as the pieces clicked into place. Then, a light of understanding dawned on his face. He turned back to the group, his own expression now alight with the same idea.
“Fire,” he announced, his voice buzzing with excitement.
Intak threw his hands up. “Care to explain what the hell you two are talking about, or are we just guessing?”
Jiung pressed his lips together, blinking at Intak before his gaze darted to where Shota stood. He suddenly held his hand up.
Shota returned with some cans of insect repellents and handed one over. Jiung took it, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Thank you.” He turned to the group. "Taeyang, do you still smoke?”
Taeyang frowned.
“He does,” Intak said flatly.
“Great,” Jiung answered cheerfully. “Well, not for your lungs, but totally great for us.”
“You’re still not explaining anything,” Keeho said, blinking slowly.
“You’ll see.” His tone was cryptic, almost giddy. “Can I borrow your lighter?”
Taeyang raised his eyebrows but reached into his pocket regardless, tossing the lighter to Jiung.
An almost evil chuckle escaped Jiung as he caught it. He bit his lip, looking at Shota. “Give me some space?”
“Space for what…?” Intak began to ask, but Shota was already stepping back. Jiung lit the lighter and sprayed the aerosol directly into the flame.
A small, roaring fireball erupted.
Everyone except Jiung and Shota startled back, stunned.
“What the…”
Jiung’s laughter rose with the flame, his hand shaking.
“Now we have a way to fight back,” he cheered. “We’re gonna melt ‘em.”
Keeho nodded, still staring at the fire in awe.
“...Very curious about how you two came up with this idea,” Intak stared at them.
Jiung’s smile softened into a line. “What?”
Shota looked equally confused by the question.
Keeho blinked, then exchanged a smile with Jongseob.
The other exhaled, mouthing the words for him alone:
“Made for each other.”
Taeyang hummed.
“It’s a good idea, but it won’t work for all of us. There’s only one lighter.”
“We take turns,” Jiung replied, handing it to Shota. “Or better yet, we get in formation. Whoever is armed or has better physical strength goes to the front.” He paused, then added, “And those who are defenseless stay behind.”
Suddenly, all eyes turned to Keeho and Jongseob.
Keeho gasped. “Hey,” he protested. “Since when am I defenseless?”
He felt Jongseob’s stare.
Taeyang snorted. “What are you gonna do? Throw another phone at them?”
Keeho stared at him, deadpan.
“Keeho and Jongseob in the back, then,” Jiung declared. The others nodded.
Jongseob looked from one face to another, his gaze finally landing on Keeho. He opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it.
“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, getting up from the floor.
“Regardless of everything,” Jiung said, his voice lowering. “...We do this together, right?”
The noise outside escalated — metal groaning under violent pressure. Their eyes met, a silent pact passing between them.
Keeho’s gaze found Jongseob’s. He stared back, a flicker of that earlier fear in his eyes, but his jaw was set.
That was more like him.
He had decided he wouldn't die today.
Keeho didn't plan on dying either.
He stood up.
“Obviously,” he answered. “How else could it be?”
A slight smile touched Taeyang’s lips as he got into position. “Well, let's have some fun.”
“If that’s your idea of fun…” Intak muttered, moving to stand behind him.
Taeyang glanced back. “Don’t you think fighting evil dolls with me is fun?”
Intak stared, then broke into a smile. “Don’t be annoying,” he said, leaning in.
Taeyang met him halfway in a brief, firm kiss, his grip tightening on the gun.
A sickening anticipation hung in the air, worsened by the relentless scratching and the creaking doors. Keeho could see the tension in all of them — in the way Intak and Taeyang kissed, in the anxious way Jiung looked at Shota, as if wanting to cling to him.
The moment made Keeho realize he should probably do something, too.
Anything.
He saw Jiung and Shota positioning themselves, the backs of their hands touching as they held the sprays and the lighter. He took a sharp breath and turned to Jongseob.
“You—”
Lips pressed against his, cutting him off. He fell silent, feeling Jongseob’s arms wrap around his neck. The kiss was secure and firm, a desperate reassurance. Keeho was stunned for a moment before kissing back, his hands closing around Jongseob’s waist, pulling him closer.
Reaching.
To never let go again.
They broke apart, and Jongseob stared at him, flashing his sharp canines in that way he did when he demanded Keeho’s full attention.
“You’re not giving up on me, are you?” he asked, half-amused, half-serious, a drop of sweat tracing his jawline.
Keeho’s face softened.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
Jongseob’s eyelids fluttered. They exchanged one last glance before moving to position themselves behind the group.
Taeyang took a deep breath. “Intak.”
Intak nodded, ready to shove the barricade aside.
They fell into line, waiting.
“One more thing,” Taeyang said, his gaze sweeping over them. They all stared back. He sighed. “Please, never buy this shit again.”
Jongseob snorted, his fingers intertwining with Keeho’s. He gave him a firm squeeze.
“Noted.”
Intak shoved the furniture aside and returned to the line.
They stood ready, waiting for the ugly things.
Together.