Work Text:
[ July 26th, 2025 ]
My feet couldn’t touch the ground. I went in circles and sat on a pony with a silly little face. I told my mother to look at me. She looked at me like I was a saviour.
Summer might possibly be the worst season to start a new job – a mascot job, at that. Eunseok looks over his schedule twice, considering quitting as he chews the inside of his cheek.
Saturday, July 26
Shotaro/Rizco & Anton/Meongnyeongie – Carousel
Sohee/Ddolbyeong & Wonbin/Tonyangdeok – Main Entrance
Eunseok/Yongdoli & Sungchan/Urakbam – Ferris Wheel
Yongdoli is a freckled rock with bright yellow shoes and her tongue poking out. Urakbam is a muscular deer with big antlers and a set of abs. Eunseok would rather be stuffed inside a suit representing Yongdoli than a stupid suit being an interpretation of masculinity slapped onto a deer. Anything rather than embodying Urakbam. Eunseok wonders if the person behind the eyes of Urakbam is aware of how awful their character is.
Eunseok has never been a fan of humid weather that tempts you to hallucinate and make you beg for mercy at your feet. It’s all too hot. Though, he can’t quite complain when he’s approached by children with toothy smiles and bruised kneecaps, innocence garnered in every organ. He would just prefer to not work with Urakbam. It’s what brings him to the enticing ordeal of quitting.
Yongdoli and Urakbam stand together, never apart. Head and feet, yellow and black, swirl and line; despite every opposing trait in their designs and personalities, they’re usually shuffled together as a match. Eunseok’s feet sweat a little harder today, toes spilling with moisture, cheeks vibrant as he sighs under the suit. “Mama, Urakbam is the best! He’s so strong – so cute, too!” His eye twitches, kneeling down so that the little boy approaching them can take a photo. The boy smiles at Yongdoli, briefly nuzzling in for a cuddle, but ultimately leans into Urakbam, throwing two fingers out as a peace sign.
Strong and cute. Eunseok frowns behind his costume. Poor Yongdoli, he thinks, because she really isn’t that much of a popular character. Some girls and boys seem to think she’s adorable, but with Urakbam, it’s like love at first sight. He’s like a taunting mixture of everything sweet and muscular. Yongdoli is, too, Eunseok frets. She’s just being overshadowed; she needs her own stage to shine on, away from a buoyant deer. She’s cute and strong. Which is arguably better than strong and cute.
“Okay, friends! Yongdoli and Urakbam have to take a break now! Come back in ten minutes!” A row of sad hums can be heard from the line of children waiting to have their moment with their favourite character, but Eunseok has to let out a sigh of relief. It feels like Eunseok’s arms could turn into flames with how hot it’s getting. Around the corner in the secluded, shaded area, Eunseok finally removes the head of Yongdoli, and expects Sungchan to do the same with Urakbam. He doesn’t. He never does during their breaks together. Eunseok is left picturing what his face could possibly be like. Everyone but him has seen it.
Urakbam stood in his direction for five minutes. Like the deer’s eyes are soulless, trailing his every move. Eunseok wonders if Sungchan is doing something in his suit — it’s too hot and it’s weird that he’s just staring — but decides to focus on directing a handheld fan to his face. Even so, his hair clumps together and sticks to his forehead. Skin prickled and pink, they sit in silence with a couple of staff chewing at their homemade lunches, chit – chatting. What is Sungchan’s problem, anyway?
Only two more hours to go until he can finish his shift, feed his Tamagotchi, then succumb to his bed.
[ July 10th, 2025 ]
My mother eats lotus flowers for breakfast while my dad and I are much too alike and chew on crooked fingernails.
If Eunseok was honest with himself, the stinging dislike for Urakbam was something unconditional in the tips of his fingers – it was obvious during his very first day at Rising Amusement Park.
Filtering through the roster channel on his phone, Eunseok discovers that the majority of his shifts – whether training, brief, or one off compared to the regular – were plastered next to Sungchan’s name. Their shifts never started, nor ended at the same time, to his confusion. Primarily, he’s admittedly excited to be able to work with someone else. He isn’t social, by any means, and prefers to hide around and play around on his computer at home, but having someone with him can allow him to catch on faster and take tips from the pros. Mascot life can’t be easy, and it’s clear from the moment he feels rocks of weight shouldering him when he dresses himself in the Yongdoli costume.
Behind thick layers of sweat underneath the padded mascot suit, Eunseok had stood next to this Urakbam character, both of them holding their palms out for high-fives. Through the weak patches of holes in Yongdoli’s eyes, Eunseok could see his little brother coming forward, running for a hug. Eunseok had begged his mother to never reveal the magic of his new job to his unaware little brother. His mother, undeniably supportive, had shown up on his first day of the job unannounced; knowing the character he was underneath and knowing his absolute dread of ensuring his brother remembers Yongdoli forever. Disgusting, gross, sticky fingers, cramped toes, leaving his hair wet with obscene fluid produced by his own skin heating with distaste – Eunseok decides in that moment that there’s nothing he loves more than the pleasure of watching somebody’s face shine with happiness.
Despite his inner monologue of sweet promises, his brother hugs Urakbam first. His brother grabs the fluffy, fabric hooves and squeals like it’s the best day of his life. In the same moment he realises that he loves gifting joy like a present, he also realises that gifting joy can mean a whole lot less to others. Screw you, Urakbam. Seriously, screw you.
If Eunseok checked the popularity polls for their characters – which he did before his shift – Urakbam would sit at a shining gold podium and Yongdoli would cower at the last spot. Internally, he turns up his nose. She’s clearly got more depth than whatever Urakbam shares with Sungchan. At the end of the day, Eunseok feels it more than others; being a reflection of his character, stone and all.
His mother laughs, takes pictures, and Eunseok suddenly doesn’t know what to do with himself or Yongdoli. He probably has about an hour left of his shift, so he needs to focus his rage into something calm and loving, so he manages to be his brother’s second best option in the moment he finishes loathing over Urakbam. He cuddles his brother, rubbing his characterised hand over his tummy — his brother giggles, and still, somehow, Eunseok forms a smile under the suit. The ring of tiny laughter brings him back to the present. Love seems to fix it all.
[ August 10th, 2025 ]
I read books about adventures in jungles and finding treasure. In the classroom, I talked but didn’t make eye contact.
Love is a frivolous thing. Too hard to understand and much too complex to dwell over. Eunseok says he loves his job and loves the unique collection of the cast, but it’s not enough to turn his overall animosity for the exact same things into positivity.
“I can’t help that he’s a popular character.” An unfamiliar, boisterous laugh encompasses the dressing room. Eunseok stands outside, hand approaching the doorknob. He falters – considers – before pressing his ear against the wooden door. “Urakbam might just be the most popular of the cast. He’s the best of them all, I’ve been told.” Eunseok puts the pieces together, realizing the bellowed voice belongs to Sungchan. Ears already red, his frustration amplifies the hue. Just arrogant, Eunseok thinks, checking over his schedule for the fifth time. It’s not like it’s ever any different. He’s stuck working with Sungchan.
Eunseok knocks for good measure. In the next second that he walks in, Urakbam is all put together, no remanence of Sungchan ever being present. Wonbin stands next to him in his unruly black suit, the head of Tonyangdeok pressed against his fingers. A rabbit ear, a cat ear, and the point of it all; a tiny duck nestled on his shoulder. Tonyangdeok is more interesting; more cute than Urakbam. “Morning, Eunseok hyung.” Wonbin chirps, tiredness reeking into the crackle of his voice. Eunseok hums in acknowledgement, approaching his locker. Silence stems from Urakbam and it makes Eunseok nest his tongue to his cheek. Just take the damn thing off – we’re in the dressing room, out of view.
“Sungchan hyung was telling me about how much he loves attention.” Eunseok doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to understand why the little ‘ow’ that Wonbin lets out is caused by Urakbam. Because it’s simply embarrassing to have your coworkers recognise that you’re a snob, Eunseok broods. “Didn’t say that,” Sungchan mumbles underneath the chunky suit, “I just like making everyone smile.” Typical answer. Eunseok wishes he hadn’t even listened in the first place; maybe stuck tape over the soles of his ears.
“A smile for Sungchan hyung won’t hurt, right, Eunseok hyung?” Wonbin gives a lazy smirk. Oh, okay. Alright then. Eunseok’s face twists a little more, souring as he places his bag to the depths of his locker. “Have a good shift, hyung.” He’s unsure if Wonbin’s words are directed to him or Sungchan.
[ August 25th, 2025 ]
I went to June and July and nothing changed. I went to August and September and everything changed. But all of that was a long time ago.
By the time his shift ends, the dressing room is empty. He starts with less hours than the other main mascots to grow an ‘understanding of personal limits and appreciation for the enchantment of mascot work’ – according to his boss. Eunseok describes it as getting used to the experience; he has less hours because he isn’t trained. It’s that simple. Eunseok is thankful that he can show himself lathered in exhaustion without bother; immediately escaping from Yongdoli’s suit. Met with pictures plastered over lockers and vanity sets, there’s a particular drawing of Yongdoli and Urakbam that his eyes linger at. Plastered on Sungchan’s locker is a crumpled paper; a cute, ditzy red heart around scribbled characters; clearly drawn by a child, with the letters ‘GF + BF’ above the heart. Yongdoli is adorned with a pretty pink bow. Eunseok knows what conclusion to make from that, but isn’t sure how to feel about it. It’s so stupid.
“Hyung,” a muffled voice comes from behind him, making him jitter slightly, “what’re you looking at?” Eunseok turns, watching Anton hold the head of his mascot in white puppy paws. Meongnyeongie, perhaps the cutest of them all; a puppy mixed with a dinosaur, is often paired to run around with Rizco, a lazy red bear. With the additions of Yongdoli, Urakbam, Ddolbyeong and Tonyangdeok their array of a cast is completed, rotating and developing over every day.
Anton tilts his head, approaching Eunseok’s side to get a closer look of where his eyes were glued previously. Eunseok, embarrassed that he’s caught staring, hides behind a blunt pair of lips pursed together. His cheeks burst into deep shades of red when Anton starts to laugh, finger pressing on the drawing. “Sungchan hyung kept this?” Despite Anton’s voice being soft, his laughter seems to jump in volume. Eunseok registers that he’s never bothered to speak to Urakbam – or, Sungchan – in the one entire month that he’s worked here, even though their characters are constantly playing cat and mouse together.
“What did you say?” Eunseok seeks clarification where Anton starts to grow shy. “After your shift on your first day, a little girl gave Sungchan this drawing. It’s odd, but she was like — and I quote, okay? Sungchan told me this, really —“ A puff of air seeps through Anton’s nose, like he’s nearly laughing again, “— she said, ‘I can really tell Yongdoli has a crush on you, Urakbam.’ And he laughed really hard when he was telling me. We got off shift at the same time, and he just wouldn’t stop —“ Eunseok zones out. Absolutely not. Yongdoli has an acquired and delicate taste; no interest in the stature of a himbo.
“Well, it’s cute. I guess.” Eunseok says; a final response. The picture is in the middle of Sungchan’s locker like it’s his favourite. Eunseok doesn’t ask for any more information because he doesn’t have time to think about the made up life of their characters — or about how irritating Sungchan is. He’s ready to head home and gobble down a dumpling or two. “Sure is. I wish Rizco and Meongnyeongie were dating, too.” Anton pouts. Eunseok has an awfully bitter taste on his tongue, shaking his head. He can entertain fantasies another day.
[ September 9th, 2025 ]
Now, I feel love twice as much, with my heart tenfold in size. My feet drag on the ground.
“Could you exaggerate the whole ‘crush’ thing that Yongdoli has going on?” Crooked fan whirring in the office, Eunseok lets out a sigh through his nostrils. He expected that when his manager had asked to have a chat it would be about his pay, a new schedule — anything but this. He’s not about to lose his job over a disagreement, though. He doesn’t quite understand where this whole ordeal of Yongdoli having a crush on Urakbam came from. “The kids seem to really like it. Urakbam is like a role model.” Eunseok wants to spit and throw fire at his manager for dulling down his character's attitude to being a follower and having a crush, but alas, he keeps his teeth to his tongue. He can use this to an advantage and nurture the concept into something more reasonable, he notes; Yongdoli is a strong girl. A strong rock. Deserving of a spotlight more than Urakbam.
“Okay.” Eunseok says. The word ‘crush’ lingers on the tip of his tongue. “But I’ll show it the way I want to.” Having a crush seems simple; something that requires effort but subconsciously. It makes a lot of sense for crushes to be that easy. Pink cheeks, the shy twirling of hair, twiddling of thumbs. Yongdoli will like Urakbam in the most peculiar way, Eunseok decides. She’s going to be running at him head to head, stepping on his feet and irritating him with her stubby rock hands. Love and affection is meant to be messy; miscalculated. The manager only nods in response, disinterested.
Tuesday, September 9
Shotaro/Rizco & Anton/Meongnyeongie – Tea Cups
Sohee/Ddolbyeong & Wonbin/Tonyangdeok – Picnic Area
Eunseok/Yongdoli & Sungchan/Urakbam – Main Entrance
Whenever Urakbam reaches to hold Yongdoli’s hand, Yongdoli acts very shy; hands over her mouth before lightly slapping Urakbam’s shoulder. She goes back and forth; nuzzling her head into Urakbam’s side. That’s not something cute, but something Eunseok prides himself in for giving her a stride. “She’s so jealous!” A pair of small girls chant. Eunseok manages a grunt inside of the suit, nearly shaking his head; no, she isn’t. She’s her own little piece of work for Urakbam to chase and admire.
A busy day, as expected, where families intertwine their hands together and point at all of the colourful signs. Fingers are especially pointed to Yongdoli and Urakbam with the patter of petite feet jumping up and down. Urakbam plays along, dramatic to the touch, stumbling whenever Yongdoli lightly knocks him or becomes persistent in her jabs. It’s annoying that Sungchan can play along so easily, like it’s natural to him.
Yongdoli will tug him back when he’s a little too cuddly with the kids. Yongdoli will pretend to be upset, crossing her arms. Urakbam reaches for her hand, hesitant, like he doesn’t know how to respond. The children devour every action like it’s a real love story, clapping and squealing. Urakbam can’t really do anything but follow whatever Yongdoli is doing, almost like he’s enamoured and captured by her every act. He bounces; reaching with a faint pause to hold Yongdoli’s hand.
“Just him,” a tall, gangly boy nudges his way against the crowd, “only Urakbam.” Eunseok should know that things like this can happen, but it still renders him speechless. Frozen, there’s no expression on the outside, or on the inside. Urakbam reacts before him, shaking his big head – and body – side to side. “Just you, okay? I don’t want a picture with the other one.” Eunseok can understand why, but it looks like Sungchan can’t. Urakbam freezes, shakes his head nervously. “I don’t care.” The child nearly spits. Urakbam makes a motion with his hooves like he’s wiping tears, head bobbing.
After their picture, the boy pouts and tries to walk off, but Urakbam jumps, insisting a little shove towards Yongdoli. Sungchan is so good with kids. Eunseok really isn’t.
Urakbam starts to look at Yongdoli with a special curiosity. There’s a surge of gentle laughter from children that startles Eunseok’s heart. “They’re in love.” The next girl in line chirps to her mother. It takes him away from the situation. Love is far too strong of a word. Eunseok has always been adamant to use it carefree, never knowing when is right or wrong. It’s too messy and confusing, so he just laughs in disbelief under his suit. Sure, love.
Urakbam exaggerates a jump, hooves in the air, antlers drooping like he’s been caught. Yongdoli has a hand over her mouth, resorting to hiding behind pebbled hands. They both look back and forth. Yongdoli takes initiative this time, nudging the aloof deer to hold her hand. Eunseok didn’t plan for a reaction like that. Urakbam looks, seeking, tilting his head. Eunseok makes sure to keep himself and Yongdoli still; facing the crowd. There’s nothing more to it.
[ September 10, 2025 ]
I still go in circles while I sit on a horse with a prideful little smile. I ask you to look at me. You look at me like I belong and I am yours.
For the first time, Eunseok and Sungchan end their shift at the same time. Eunseok is flustered because when they both remove the heads of their respective characters at the same time, he experiences time slowing down and his thoughts accelerating. It’s definitely a result of the hot weather and the sweat collecting in the palms of his hands. Sungchan’s lashes tickle his cheeks when he blinks. He’s got these big, honeycomb doe eyes that Eunseok connects to a deer. Urakbam. He’s definitely suited to play Urakbam. Sungchan looks at him, eyes all wide and shocked. Like he hasn’t seen Eunseok before when he literally has. Eunseok clings onto the Yongdoli head in his hands, lips slightly parting to form a greeting. He looks away quickly, not wanting to bother with Sungchan. Even with pelts of salt sticking to Sungchan’s forehead and messy hair, Sungchan is somehow the most put together out of the two of them. He could probably leave here without patting himself dry or washing his hair, which isn’t fair because Eunseok might look debauched with the way Sungchan looks at him. His stomach simmers with a newfound feeling of frustration; the kind that confuses him and leaves his body in knots.
He starts busying himself with discarding his whole suit, nudging his nose into his locker and finding necessary belongings. Sungchan steals glances while he does the same routine. Eunseok can tell that he’s trying to be bashful about it, but it’s more like plain staring. “I like working with you,” Sungchan says, Eunseok hums — they’ve never even spoken. “The kids think Urakbam and Yongdoli make a cute couple.” Sungchan is seeking a reaction that Eunseok fails to give. Sungchan has a ditzy smile directed at him. “Right. Urakbam should properly ask her out, or something.” It’s flat, sarcastic, but the laughter that Sungchan provides is a reminder of why Eunseok is allowed to hate Urakbam, but he’s not allowed to hate Sungchan. Magic, happiness, sprinkles and confetti. Cute things and kind things. Childish and pure. He pauses and Sungchan speaks again, voice a little soft. “Yes. Don’t you think we go together?” Eunseok doesn’t know how to process the fact that they both start to talk as if Urakbam and Yongdoli are the personal embodiments of themselves. Sungchan looks between the shower room and the exit, bag finally slinging over his shoulders. It’s a little confusing; Sungchan is trying to befriend him when there’s obviously nothing there. Eunseok can think that because it’s exactly what he gathers from their tiny conversation. He can also think that because Sungchan has silly drawings plastered to his locker and little gimmicks inside of his locker that makes Eunseok want to cringe — because why does he have a shrine of all things Urakbam in there?
“Sorry – about yesterday. I think Urakbam is nothing without Yongdoli, even if she’s kind of new.” Sungchan mumbles, sounding like he’s hurt; like being genuine is all he knows. Eunseok grinds his teeth together. “I’ll never understand when kids have that kind of … what’s the word? I don’t know. I’m just sorry.” Sungchan laughs, again — at nothing — all vibrant with teeth showing. “Goodnight, Eunseok.” Eunseok doesn’t watch him leave. Screw you, Urakbam. Screw you, Sungchan.
“It’s like love at first sight.” Wonbin speaks, feet splayed on the couch in the corner of the room. “When did you get here?” Eunseok scoffs, quick to grab his bag and scour for his keys. “The whole time. I wish Sohee could see this.” Wonbin sighs, scrolling through his phone and not bothering to make eye contact, “He pretty much asked you out, y’know? Romance isn’t dead.” Wonbin smiles coyly. Eunseok wastes no time in waving goodbye.
[ September 13, 2025 ]
Next to me, you crawl up to the other horse with a ditzy little smile. You read a book about a true love’s kiss and a cozy cabin.
Ddolbyeong, a white duck with freckled cheeks, wearing a British guard outfit enters the dressing room, stumbling over his steps. “Eunseok hyung,” the costume unveils as Ddolbyeong’s head is removed, Sohee’s small head asserting from underneath the material, “Shotaro wants to go for drinks. He’s surprising Sungchan hyung for his birthday. You’ll come, won’t you?” Eunseok doesn’t remember the last time he’s been asked to go out – or the last time he actually went out. In the dressing room, it’s probably the first time that all of them have finished their shifts at the same time. The air is thick with conversation and sweet giggles. Eunseok likes it. His eyes slide over to Sungchan – who immediately meets his eyes with a smile. “Okay.” Eunseok agrees, even if the late hours of the night beckon him to his sheets.
Sungchan smells like violet flowers. He gathers this much when he’s shoved into the end of the booth, Sungchan following in pursuit and squishing their thighs together, even when there’s a plethora of space to fill between them. Sungchan isn’t dressed up, but he’s away from the work setting, which is enough for Eunseok to have an excuse to stare. They’re showered, clean, away from the chains of mascots and characters; it’s Eunseok’s first moment to actually look at Sungchan properly. “You came?” Sungchan asks and Eunseok sucks in a breath. The feeling of heat simmers to his cheeks, but he hasn’t had any alcohol yet, so he has nothing to blame it on. This is the kind of person he is outside of constraints. Truthfully, it causes him to wonder if Sungchan is like this with every man he finds remotely attractive – clingy, delicate, batting eyelashes – Sungchan might be just like that. Lovely, inside and out. The kind of lovely that makes Eunseok bite his tongue. “Yeah.” Eunseok shrugs.
“You have a Tamagotchi.” Sungchan giggles, bunny shaped teeth peeking over his lip. Eunseok forgot that his baby is usually strapped to a keychain on his jeans. “My little brother gave it to me.” He smiles, only a little, like it really is amusing that he has a Tamagotchi. “I met him, right? He ran up to me. Hugged me.” Eunseok tilts his head, nodding slowly. “How do you know that?” He doesn’t remember introducing them or having them having an encounter. “Oh, I –” Sungchan pauses, interrupted by Shotaro’s tapping on his shoulder. Eunseok drowns out the conversation.
Sungchan’s mother calls him during the middle of his celebration and he has to excuse himself. The energy isn’t the same without Sungchan. It lacks the kind of feeling you get when receiving a bouquet and the kind of punch that the sounds of a summer night leave. Sungchan is crying when Eunseok walks into the bathroom, a fat pout nestled to his lips. He startles, quickly wiping at his eyes with his sleeves, hiccuping. “Sorry.”
Eunseok wasn’t raised like Sungchan. Sungchan is definitely his mother’s boy, big in his body and frail with his heart. “What’s wrong?” He asks, awkward as he paces forward, delaying to rest a hand against Sungchan’s back. “I’m just happy. I miss my mom. I drank too much.” They sound like reasons to be sad, but instead it loops to Sungchan feeling happy. He’s crying because he’s happy, the faintest smile trying to coil on his face even through light tears. “I want to go home.” Eunseok sighs, rubbing a thumb against the material of Sungchan’s jacket. Sungchan tugs at Eunseok’s sleeve, turning to face him, suddenly curious; like he’s trying to interrogate Eunseok. “When I saw you on your first day … I thought …” He trails off. Eunseok clears his throat, smelling the booze in the bubble around them. “You’re so pretty. Then … your brother came up to me and said … you’re sad. Miss your boyfriend, or something.” Oh. Eunseok shifts, uncomfortable. “I saw him again later, when he ran up to us. He’s so happy with you.” Sungchan hiccups and looks like he’s about to start explosively sobbing again. What is with this guy?
Eunseok helps Sungchan gather his things. He puts his cake in a box, organises his gifts and cleans any spilled alcohol from Sungchan’s jacket, even if it gets him a few weird looks. He’s just being polite. “I’ll take him home,” Shotaro says, rubbing Sungchan’s back. “Get home safe, Sungchan.” Eunseok says. Sungchan pouts.
[ September 14, 2025 ]
You make me feel stupid and I breathe it all like a prayer. “Stupidity looks good on you,” you’ll say.
Eunseok does not have a boyfriend. He misses his ex sometimes, but that was nearly a year, or two ago. He doesn’t remember enough to care. Whether it’s an important detail or not, he groans into his pillow the next morning, wondering if it’s worth scolding his brother over something so light-hearted. It shouldn’t matter, because why would Sungchan care if Eunseok had a boyfriend or not? It’s so awful that every thought he has about Sungchan is constant. His phone vibrates like an omen.
Sungchan
I’m sorry about last night.
Did you get home safely?
Eunseok stares at his ceiling and counts the amount of times he got lost in Sungchan’s eyes last night. There’s something there and he can’t confine himself to that feeling again. Sungchan’s lips are cherry like, Eunseok’s lips are subtle. Sungchan is taller than Eunseok, yet his heart is ten times more fragile and he looks like he wants to fold himself like a tiny puppy.
He remembers when he had a boyfriend, mainly because he didn’t know who he was without one. Interesting, to say the least, because Eunseok is the man he is today because of that experience. He doesn’t think he’s sad about it anymore, but for his brother to go around saying things has him reeling back. Maybe he’s too cold. Maybe he’s never been enough in the first place. Maybe he chose this job to fill up a void and now Sungchan is overtaking that void in the worst possible way. His phone vibrates again.
Sungchan
Please come out more~
I had fun with you!
If Eunseok likes Sungchan, then it ruins everything that he stands for and who he’s become. He shouldn’t act on it and just pray that it can go away. Eunseok shrivels into his covers, squeezes his eyes and has the most rational decision to make. Confront his feelings or call in sick for a while and hope it goes away. He does the latter.
[ September 18, 2025 ]
In the mirror, I talk and make eye contact with something repulsive. It’s mortifying to carry all of that on your shoulders. “It’s love,” you’ll say.
Eunseok really tried to ignore Sungchan. He tried to avoid every sweet look and welcoming gesture, but he wasn’t able to get through the door and loathe in peace without Sungchan intruding his way into Eunseok’s vision. If he can’t avoid him, then he needs to confront the problem.
“Hyung, you’re back!” Sungchan scoots himself next to Eunseok, sitting on the cold bench with their knees rubbing. “I thought you were really sick. Wonbin said it’s not like you to get sick, so, I assumed you had some relationship troubles.” Eunseok’s skin pricks, silence adorning his throat. “I was so worried. If you want, I could knock some sense into him. Wonbin looked at me funny when I said that, but I’d do it –” Sungchan stops himself, rubbing his hands over his knees. “Everyone knows. I don’t have a boyfriend.” Eunseok bites down on his tongue, eyes stuck on the way their hands grip their knees. Sungchan is big. Everything Eunseok isn’t. Everything that could swallow Eunseok whole. “Oh. Oh, um …” Sungchan fumbles for stability in a way that’s so cute that Eunseok could laugh. “My brother was talking about my ex. I don’t date anymore.” Eunseok says simply, because love isn’t for him.
Eunseok has no need to make sense of his dislike of Sungchan anymore. He likes it all. He likes Urakbam and he likes Sungchan to the point it drives him crazy. Sungchan is everything that Eunseok isn’t. It’s extremely scary that he’s okay with it and he likes it.
There’s room for explanation. Eunseok takes the centre and gives Sungchan what he’s asking for. “I lost so much of myself by giving everything to others. Who I am … it’s … is invisible, you know? I’m invisible. There is nothing kind, memorable or sweet. I’m just whatever another person wants me to be. I fell so hard for people – for him that I let myself get so sad. I have to be alone so that I can find myself. And I have found myself, and it’s still not somebody who’s deserving.” With his words lingering in the air, Eunseok relaxes. Maybe now, Sungchan understands. Maybe he knows why Eunseok avoided him and keeps it plain.
Sungchan gives him a look. He’s not familiar with it – ridged brows, the crease of forehead lines, negativity behind the dip of sharpness. “What do you mean?” Sungchan asks. Eunseok shrugs. “That’s so like you to say.” He adds and Eunseok gathers the small scoff in his tone. He’s unsure why he’s so emotional over nothing, so he returns the defense. He’s just given Sungchan the truth and it’s been crushed in his palms. Love is so nasty and overwhelming. “You have no idea who I am. You don’t know me.” Eunseok grips at the head of Yongdoli before dropping it. It all feels too messy. “I wish you would let me.” Sungchan croaks.
[ September 24, 2025 ]
I’m confused when I grow. It’s terrifying. Are we going in circles? Come off of the horse; this time, I’ll watch. Oh, I am loved. I am me. I am nothing and everything; how liberating.
It’s not like anything has changed. Eunseok has just noticed Sungchan more whilst attempting to wipe him out of his head. More often, they finish their shifts at the same time. Eunseok struggles with his zipper, but Sungchan delves in immediately. It’s not like Eunseok needs saving, which Sungchan knows, but the help makes his breath hitch. Sungchan is doused in sweat, breath trickling at Eunseok’s neck as he fiddles with the zipper of Eunseok’s bodysuit. Sungchan has such pretty lashes and cutely knots his brows in focus.
“There you go.” Eunseok wants to say thank you, almost say sorry, almost run into his arms and preach his truth – I like you. He doesn’t.
Lingering in the air is a soft reminder of their hastiness. Sungchan looks defeated when he tries to talk. Eunseok waits, but fears that he might need to run away and envelop his head into a bucket of ice cold water. “I feel so small sometimes.” Sungchan says. That's all he says, but Eunseok sees him. A little boy with light freckles, dusty brown hair, a conniving pout and desperately motioning for his mother to hold him. Sungchan is so easy to like because he’s so clumsily authentic that it hurts. He wears his pain on his sleeve and sprinkles his happiness on a trail when he walks. “I wonder if anyone wants to know me, sometimes.” I do, Eunseok chants in the inner depths of his head, even if he had no time to think of an answer. It’s embedded inside of him. He can’t keep running.
[ September 25, 2025]
My ears are pink while you kiss them. Your ears are red when I fiddle ear lobes between my thumbs. I am me, you are you.
It’s raining when Eunseok finishes his shift. It’s usually a treat to walk in the rain back towards his home, but today, it’s the kind of rain that pelts down and soaks your shoes to the point that your socks are wet. “Did you not bring an umbrella, hyung?” Startled, Eunseok turns on his heel. Sungchan approaches him, just as wet and dripping, fiddling with his umbrella. “Are you not using yours?” Eunseok asks, raising an eyebrow. “I, uh, I can’t get it to work.” Eunseok just laughs at that, and Sungchan smiles. A smile where his eyes form crescents and his front teeth sparkle like a rabbit. Typical Sungchan. Eunseok may have missed this.
He can tell from the lack of spark in Sungchan’s eyes that he’s tired. Or perhaps, guilty. Eunseok is guilty, too. He feels it in the crook of his neck in every swallow and it’s like a rock in his tummy. Eunseok gets the umbrella open and Sungchan wastes no second in pushing them together, chests bumping and sturdy hands grasping their way around Eunseok’s waist. “You’ll get wet. Just stay here, hyung.” Sungchan is a try-hard. A go-getter. A motivator. “I’m already wet.” Eunseok feels weak to the tips of his bones, hands stuck to his side. He can’t do this.
“I can get you a taxi home. I can call Shotaro hyung. I don’t want you catching a cold again.” Sungchan hums, his eyes clearly too busy on the upward curve of Eunseok’s lips. “I know what you’re doing. I told you –” Sungchan pouts, moves his umbrella to the side and pushes closer. “This isn’t because I like you. Who would let somebody walk home in the pouring rain without, like, an umbrella or something?” He scolds. I would, honestly, Eunseok thinks, because he doesn’t care enough about others like Sungchan, then it clicks.
“You like me.” Eunseok blinks. Unwavering, Sungchan keeps his pout, rubbing wet hair from his forehead. “Eunseok hyung, it’s obvious.” Sungchan squeezes at his curves and Eunseok reacts by grunting, nearly shoving Sungchan into falling over. “I told you. I seriously told you I can’t. I’m me, it’s fine on my own, I –” Sungchan is relentless, his hand landing a soft touch to Eunseok’s shoulder when he reapproaches. “I’ve heard it. You told me. I still like you. I’ll like you if you tell me not to. The first day, I knew it. Pretty. Smart. Kind. Thoughtful. Do you know how stupid I sound right now, hyung? I’m listing all of these things that you know you are. So why do you neglect it?” Eunseok clenches his brows together, nearly unwilling to listen, but it’s Sungchan. Urakbam. Screw you.
“You picked yourself up and found yourself again. That’s what love is. I don’t know what man made you think of yourself like this, or if it was your own doing, but, hyung, I’m not going to ask you to make sacrifices or change anything about yourself. Even as time goes by, you are you and I am me. I think of you so much, Eunseok. You’re so you. I like you so much. If you’re invisible, then I don’t even exist.” Sungchan’s lip wobbles and Eunseok absolutely caves.
Urakbam and Yongdoli are an inseparable team, even if it’s unexpected. There’s soft callouses of fur and big bumps of pebbles. There’s a cheeky smile and sweetness under a fluffy chest. Vanilla and chocolate. Blunt and sheepish. It alludes to the story of Eunseok and Sungchan. It’s so romantic. Everything his mother would dream of. A man inherently opposite to him from design to guts. He’s sure that even the sizes of their hearts are different, but would find a way to match with Sungchan’s perpetual pining. Sungchan must have been secretly over the moon when Eunseok confessed to having no boyfriend, even if anger was simultaneously consuming him. Eunseok laughs at that and Sungchan’s eyes widen.
“You’re trying to convince me to change my thoughts – or, no, rewire my brain chemistry – that has been stuck in my head for years with some stupid romantic confession?” Eunseok breathes out. Sungchan bathes in silence, awkward silence, before looking into Eunseok’s eyes with a shaky breath. “Did it work?” Sungchan asks, smiling a little lopsided and goofy.
Eunseok thinks, fuck this, screw you Urakbam, screw you Sungchan, and throws the umbrella out of their way. “This is more romantic.” Eunseok clasps wet fingers over Sungchan’s cheeks, closing the gap between them. Sungchan sighs deeply into the kiss, thick fingers kneading over Eunseok’s little ones that hold his face. It’s sticky, parting with a little slick noise. Sungchan can’t say anything at all, even if his mouth falls open to form words, because Eunseok’s desires are seeping through stone. He’s not cold, not one bit with the way their tongues slide together. Sungchan is warmth itself and Eunseok is the bark and bush that lets the fire sit.
Eunseok tilts his head, succumbing to the act of getting to the tips of his toes. Sungchan makes a noise into the kiss, something implicitly hormonal. Eunseok drags himself from the kiss with an unwilling Sungchan, whimpering adamant in his throat. “Does this mean you like me too?” Sungchan has the audacity to ask, earning a squish to his cheeks. Eunseok pinches the folds of fat in his thumbs. “Yes. I always have. I’m just more of a loser than you are.” Sungchan doesn’t sulk, rather, nestles his lips back to Eunseok’s.
“Oh. Okay. I didn’t know we were doing this today.” Wonbin opens the exit door, admittedly bashful. Sungchan lets out a cry, knocks his head against Eunseok’s and falls over into a splash of mud. Love is so stupid and it’s the perfect reason for everything.