Chapter Text
To Sang-ung, Nathan was a lot of things. He was selfish, defensive, cunning, cruel, twisted in his own sick way. After their first meeting, Sang-ung had slightly suspected that the younger had ill intentions, although now, he was sure of it. He should have known, known that the looks the man gave him as his face contorted to give an amiable yet cruel grin were nothing short of malicious. His name was strangely similar to Anna’s, yet he had failed, so many times, to realize that they were siblings. The empty fiery eyes, an insatiable hunger for power, and unquenchable obsession with his abilities, were something they both had in common. Yet whenever Nathan would appear, unannounced and unapologetic, something stirred deep within his chest. It made his heart quicken, his hand sweaty, his thoughts muddled, and his words slurried.
To Nathan, Sang-ung was nothing yet everything all at once. An obsession, an enemy, a friend, a savior, a god, a fighter, but above all, Sang-ung was an idiot. No matter what extent he could go, a normal life is something he will never be able to reach ever again. He hadn’t chosen the powers, but the powers chose him. It had picked him among hundreds, thousands, millions, of people. If only had he stayed hidden, if only had he not caught Anna’s eyes, if only, truly if , he better considered his plans, none of this would be happening. None of those gooey sappy feelings, none of those small currents and sparks would course his body whenever he and the older made contact, none of the warmth which pooled his chest. None of this, none at all, he was certain, would have happened if his father had not ordered him back.
Nathan knew exactly when he started to develop feelings for Sang-ung. He had been outside of the man’s window, watching, standing still as the rain pattered and trampled. Slightly concerned, Sang-ung had rushed out and ushered him in, scoldily warning him of what would happen if he did not dry up quickly. Yet as Sang-ung turned, Nathan remained in front of the door, unwavering, as if guarding him from something or perhaps from himself. A sigh frustratedly left the man’s lips, as he grasped at Nathan’s arm, his lips look so-
“Hey!” “huh” “I said, you’re going to catch a cold if you just stand there, you know.” Sang-ung said, dragging him down to sit, “Don’t take this as me trusting or anything, I just don’t want you dying on my doorstep this late at night.” “you could have just called the others” “what?” “....nevermind” muttering under his breath, Sang-ung stood up,“You’ll find a restroom around that corner to dry yourself and freshen up. It'll be the first door on your left. You’ll find some spare clothes in the closet. Anything else you need, just call me.” “thanks” “whatever, just hurry so I can send you back to wherever you ran from.” and just like that, he was gone, leaving Nathan alone in the tiny excuse of a bathroom. Seriously, how can he tolerate living like this?
Sang-ung should have closed the door. That was the thought that kept returning to him, looping and insistent, long after Nathan had stepped inside and the rain had followed him in like an uninvited witness. Not because of the mess, or the water pooling on the floor, or even the lateness of the hour, but because Nathan had looked at him the way he always did, too focused, too aware, like Sang-ung was something fragile and valuable and already half-claimed. Nathan always was and felt wrong in ways that were difficult to explain. Not loud or erratic, not careless. He was deliberate, thoughtful, always watching. Sang-ung had learned early on that people like that were the most dangerous. His apartment suddenly felt exposed, bills and clothes laying everywhere, on the tables, by the door, on his couch. Nathan’s gaze had flicked there, brief but unmistakable, and Sang-ung felt a sharp, irrational flash of annoyance. Later, as Nathan exited the bathroom, all dry, he noticed the way his pants laid slightly above the younger’s ankles and how his shirt pressed slightly onto his figure, the curve of his waist almost visible. Nothing was said as Sang-ung lended Nathan his umbrella, that was how it always went. Words were always unnecessary when Nathan was involved. His body had always recognized the danger of letting Nathan in and he told himself the way his thoughts slipped whenever he stood too close meant nothing at all. When Nathan finally left, quiet and composed, Sang-ung remained longer than necessary, sliding along the door, listening to the rain swallow the sound of Nathan’s retreating footsteps. His heart shouldn’t act this way, it shouldn’t be beating so fast in the presence of the younger man. He liked girls, for crying out loud!! Or at least that’s what he thought.