Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yeon Sieun couldn’t say he wanted to die. He just didn’t particularly want to live. He simply existed and did whatever was demanded of him. He woke up every day, sometimes in his bed, sometimes at the desk where he'd fallen asleep while studying.

Then, as always, Sieun followed his daily routine: school, cram school, and some extra classes.

Then dinner at home and awkward small talk with his parents if they happened to be there (“How was school?” — “Good.” He never felt any need to tell them more, and they didn’t push as long as his grades were good).

For the rest of the evening, he studied more, sometimes read some novels until he gave in to the growing tiredness.

The next day, the cycle repeated. It had been this way for as long as he could remember. There was nothing exciting or unexpected about his life, but Sieun was okay with that. Predictability was safe.

The only thing that sometimes broke his daily routine was getting sick or injured. No matter if it was a broken arm after falling on his way home or the flu that caught him even though he always remembered to dress according to the weather. Sieun noticed quite early that he tended to have more health problems than a child his age should.

It was troubling his parents. Ever since he was little, he’d often heard them arguing. He didn’t understand everything about it, but apparently raising him was more difficult than they had expected.

They weren't explicit about it, at least not when they thought he couldn't hear them. But he could. They probably weren’t aware of it, but he heard almost every fight they had over him.

Because of him.

That's how Sieun came to understand he wasn't a planned, much less wanted child. He just happened, and they needed to deal with it. Sieun knew that his mom and his dad loved him. They just… had their own priorities and troubles to handle. Once he realized that, he promised himself to be the best son he could and not to cause any more trouble than he already had.

It started around the time he injured his arm. Shortly after returning from the hospital, where he had his arm put in a cast, he heard his parents yelling at each other. When they noticed Sieun was listening to them, they tried to talk to him. But Sieun locked himself in his room, too hurt to deal with their explanations.

He had an upcoming geometry quiz, so he sat at the desk to study and opened his textbook.

Using a compass, construct the vertices of an equilateral triangle.

Okay. That was easy. They had gone over all of this in class. But his freshly set cast made every small movement harder. Every time Sieun adjusted the compass, the line kept drifting a few millimeters off.

“Get it together, dummy,” he muttered to himself.

A throbbing, dull pain in his arm was no help at all. And the faces of his parents — mother on the verge of tears, father all angry and frustrated — which kept popping up in Sieun’s mind. They were blaming each other for being absent when he got his injury. He could still hear their voices:

“You said we’d raise him together! That we should have this child—”

“I had no idea back then! I didn’t expect him to get hurt all the time!”

Sieun looked at the compass. Its needle was sharp, easily piercing holes in the paper whenever he used it. Suddenly, he felt the strange urge to test it on his own skin. He brushed it off initially as something ridiculous. Why would he even do such a thing?

But that thought kept coming to him over and over as he worked on his assignments. Eventually, the boy gave in, pressing the compass against his hand. The sharp pain flashed through his hand as the needle slowly sank into the soft flesh, but Sieun didn't stop. He just looked, somewhat fascinated, as a single drop of blood trickled down his skin.

He didn't know why, but the sight, along with the sharp sting in his hand, helped him clear his mind. For the first time in many days, Sieun thought maybe he did have control over something.

Since that day, he started pricking himself with a compass more often. It wasn’t even something he did on purpose, not at the beginning, at least. It was just… happening.

Whenever he heard his parents fighting. After not scoring as high as he had aimed to on a test. Somehow, when he was feeling distressed, angry at himself or when he felt like the world around him was falling apart, his hand almost on its own reached for the drawer, where he kept the compass.

Sieun didn’t think he was doing something wrong. He didn’t harm anybody. He swore to himself not to cause any trouble if possible, and he kept that promise. The wounds were small, there was no need for treatment. Sieun could easily cover them with a sleeve on an oversized hoodie — he always wore one on his school uniform anyway, even in the summer. And the compass didn’t leave any permanent marks either.

Two or three years passed like that. Shortly after Sieun entered his second year of middle school, his parents finally went through an inevitable divorce. Sieun stayed with his father, which changed hardly anything in his life. He just was home alone more than ever before, but that didn’t bother him. He kept studying, just like he used to do when his parents were around.

But, as he felt the compass was no longer enough, Sieun gradually became less cautious, less picky. He would take his father’s razors and nail scissors… Anything that helped him to anchor himself, really.

At that time, Sieun’s highly strategic and analytic mind started to look for answers.

Why was he feeling so relieved whenever something sharp pierced his skin, causing drops of blood to run down his forearm?

He supposed it was about being in control. As a child, he didn’t have much impact on his life. Not on the multiple injuries he was getting. Not on his parents’ already poor relationship, that only got worse because of him. So, causing those small wounds was keeping Sieun’s mind clear. This was the one thing in his life he could fully control.

It was a way to keep himself steady.

To punish.

To handle his feelings and failures on his own, with no need to involve any people.

Sieun did realize it wasn’t a healthy way to relieve his stress, but he didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like anybody was ever going to see it, anyway.

He spent time at home mostly alone. At school, he was never well-liked by his peers anyway. He didn't do anything to bother them, not on purpose, at least.

But the truth was, when someone wanted to mock him, they could always find a reason. Either it was his voice or his silence. Either the way he looked at other students or the fact that he didn't look at them at all.

It didn't matter. Maybe there was a time, somewhere at the beginning of his education, that he actually felt sad about it, but he couldn't quite recall it. And now that he was already a high-school student, he certainly was not going to let himself be distracted from upcoming exams.

It worked before, but high-school students turned out to be different — more aggressive, full of self-doubt and hungry for attention. Even though Sieun didn’t look for trouble, he also refused to beg or bow his head to the bullies. And that was enough to trigger them.

One of them, named Youngbin, apparently made his personal mission to break Sieun. He did not give in, but their encounters were getting more frequent and more violent. After one of them Sieun was left with a hoarse voice and finger-shaped bruises around his throat.

And he was getting so sick and tired of this. He only wanted to be left alone so he could study. Studying was his safe space and the only thing where he could see his worth. He spent countless hours hunched over textbooks and notebooks, and it could be seen in his school results. They were flawless.

And then Youngbin decided to take it away from him. It happened during the mock exam. Sieun didn't know — and honestly, didn't care — how, but he made one of the students stick something onto his neck — something that later turned out to be a fucking fentanyl patch.

Sieun wasn’t aware there was something on his neck. He just lost his focus. And then some other disturbing symptoms came. His vision went blurred. He felt strange dizziness and nausea. At first, Sieun thought he was about to pass out. It happened quite often when he was younger, especially after physical education classes. But that was different. His senses felt muffled and sharpened at the same time. His vision didn’t go dark, but everything around him was floating.

And Sieun was not having this shit on the exam. His hand almost on its own lifted up to his face. A hard slap probably drew the attention of all the people around, but Sieun didn’t care. He didn’t answer the teacher’s alarmed calls. He continued to slap himself until his cheek was all raw. But the focus did not come back. The letters and geometrical figures were still dancing on the paper.
 
Sieun stood up and stumbled out of the classroom. He somehow made it to the restroom without falling. As he splashed cold water on his face, he thought about something.

His fingers brushed his neck right in the place that had been touched by the other student right before the exam. When Sieun turned to him, the boy apologized and gave him a crappy excuse about a bug on Sieun’s neck. He didn’t pay attention then, thinking it was just another way to mock him.

But as Sieun peeled off a small, semi-transparent patch of his skin, he realized he must have been drugged. It didn’t matter that the new, weird student placed that patch. Even in his dazed state, Sieun immediately knew it was all Youngbin’s doing.

He didn’t even finish the exam. Once he’d removed the patch, the effects of the drug slowly wore off, but he still stayed in the toilet another hour or so. And the slight dizziness lasted for the next few hours. 

It was already afternoon when Sieun sat at his school desk to check the answers. The first half — as expected —  was flawless. And then, his pen hovered right above the white sheet. Sieun remembered that equation. He was struggling to solve it when he realized something was wrong.

All the following answers were marked wrong. Looking at the red marks slashed across his answers, Sieun felt something break inside him. He stood up, already looking for something he could use as a weapon.

It was the day Sieun lost his composure for the first time. He kept reminding Youngbin he'd asked politely to stop bothering him as he smashed his face with a book.

It was also the day he met Ahn Suho. Sieun wasn't aware at that time, but that boy would later become his best friend.

Their friendship, however, started… unlikely, to say the least, with Suho pulling Sieun away, when he was about to deliver a final hit to the already grounded bully.

Sieun didn't appreciate his interruption and he made that very clear — with a chair thrown at Suho. Much later, after a highly unpleasant confrontation with his classroom teacher and Youngbin's mother, Sieun realized that Suho had actually helped him. He'd broken Sieun’s fury, preventing him from getting himself into even bigger troubles.

So, the next day, Sieun apologized to Suho for coming at him and bought him lunch. This was their first proper conversation, something more than a single phrase thrown while fighting.

Suho was weird.

That was what Sieun thought about him at first. The other boy was constantly sleeping in the classroom, yet his physical condition and fighting skills were undeniably good. He apparently loved to eat, showing much more enthusiasm towards mediocre school lunch than it was worth. He talked a lot, and asked many questions.

But the weirdest thing about Suho was that he didn't seem to be mean. Even when he was saying something, well, objectively negative, something like “It's rude that you're wearing earphones all the time,” it didn't look like he intended to offend Sieun at all. He seemed genuinely curious.

And, much to his own surprise, Sieun realized he actually didn't mind talking to Suho. They gradually started to spend more time together — during lunch breaks at first, then hanging out also outside school. They went out to play pool (Sieun put his strategic brain and spatial sense to good use, completely outplaying the other boy), and Suho started to pick him up on his motorbike after cram school.

It was a while before Sieun noticed he less often reached for his… tools. It wasn’t a conscious decision to fight against hurting himself. He just simply didn't think about it that much now that he'd started hanging out with Suho.

And even though Suho was an involuntary distraction, not a remedy or a solution, still, Sieun realized it was really nice to have a friend. Before meeting Suho, he didn't have — didn't need — any friends. He thought of any emotional attachment as a weakness. But then the other boy entered Sieun's life and he understood how addictive it was to have someone who simply cared about him and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company.

To Sieun's disapproval, Suho slept through most of their classes. As a way to make sure Suho would pass — and quiet his own guilt about not studying as much as he used to — Sieun developed a habit of coming to the restaurant Suho worked at to study. He also made use of every moment Suho didn't have anything to do, cramming small bits of knowledge into his head.

In return, Suho decided Sieun needed to work out, announcing he'd train him. Whether it was an attempt to return the favor or revenge, he couldn't tell. Either way, Sieun ended up running in the park at an ungodly hour.

Suho also insisted on teaching him the basics of self-defence, claiming he couldn't always be next to Sieun to help him deal with the bullies. Somewhere in the middle of adjusting his posture, Sieun realized how close Suho was standing. He didn't even have time to react — one moment, Suho was putting Sieun's hands along his face and tugging his chin down, explaining he should always return to that position. The moment later, Sieun felt Suho’s lips on his own.

That Sieun hadn’t seen coming. It was short and gentle, a barely-there kind of kiss. He didn't kiss Suho back, didn't pull away either. He just stood there, unsure what to do.

Finally, Suho stepped back, his lips crooked with a smirk.

“Sorry, you were so cute I couldn't contain myself!” he chuckled.

They didn’t talk about it afterwards, not when Suho taught him a few punches and ways to knock the opponent down. Not when they grabbed their usual morning coffee. But after Suho drove him back home, he hesitantly leaned towards Sieun and kissed him once again.

This time Sieun wasn’t so surprised, so he actually felt it. Suho’s lips were warm and soft, and Sieun came to the conclusion he liked kissing.

Since that day, the dynamic of their friendship started to melt into something else. Suho, who was quite touchy even before, started to reach for Sieun even more — an arm slipping shyly around Sieun’s waist. Fingers interlacing on their way home. Quick pecks on the cheek, stolen at the doorstep. Finally — slower, much more intimate kisses at the safe space of Sieun’s bedroom.

Sieun didn’t quite understand the meaning of whatever they had and he was too shy to initiate things on his own, but he happily followed Suho’s lead. Discovering he actually didn’t mind being touched and kissed by Suho was something new and quite a surprise, because he’d never liked being touched. His parents rarely hugged him and it always felt awkward, like they were forcing themselves. From his classmates, he only experienced mocking or violent touch.

With Suho, however, everything felt different. Suho treated him like he actually mattered. He was open with his opinion and didn’t hesitate to tease Sieun when he thought the latter was being weird or irrational. But he was also cheerful and paid attention to him. He never complained about Sieun being quiet, nerdy, and, in Sieun’s own opinion, boring. Never tried to change those things about him. Suho made his life feel less empty, in a way he hadn’t thought was possible.

He also treated Sieun’s body like something to be desired, which honestly, was really intimidating. He didn’t know how to handle Suho’s affection, his gaze lingering on Sieun’s body and big hands, caressing his back and slipping under the hem of his shirt more and more boldly.

Never having experienced anything like that before, he wasn’t sure what Suho was expecting or what he was supposed — what he needed to — do. He thought maybe naming their relationship would help him. It would be logical, as Sieun always preferred to have things sorted out and organized. He liked to know where he stood.

So one day when they were laying on Sieun’s bed after Suho had forced him into taking a break from studying, the other boy playing with Sieun’s fingers, Sieun decided to name the elephant in the room.

“Suho-ya… Can I ask you something?” he started tentatively.

“Hmm? Sure.”

“What are we?”

Suho stilled for a second or two, then released Sieun's hand and looked at him properly.

“What do you think we are?”

“I think we’re kinda behaving like… A couple.”

Suho didn't answer right away. It looked like he was fighting his own thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful and measured.

“Yeah, I think so, too. I like you, Sieun-ah. I like spending time with you.” Suho reached for his hand again, squeezing it reassuringly. “I want to call you my boyfriend. That is… if you want that, too.”

Sieun was too embarrassed to look Suho in the eye, but he felt his chest tightening with something dangerously close to excitement.

“I'd… like that, too.”

Suho’s face brightened with a smile as he leaned towards Sieun to press their lips together. Even though his kisses had been getting more and more sensual lately, this one remained gentle and innocent, as if Suho didn’t want to cross the line.

When Suho eventually pulled back begrudgingly and looked at Sieun, his face turned oddly serious.

“Sieun-ah… I’ve got a question, too. These marks on your forearms… What happened?”

Oh. Oh.

Sieun recoiled as if burned. He wasn't wearing a hoodie he could adjust so the sleeves would cover his wounds, so he curled a little, his arm pressed against his body, the other hand covering it up protectively.

The scars left by nail scissors, which were his favorite. They only caused pale, barely visible marks. He thought that it required a close look and extra attention to even notice they were on his skin.

But Suho was watching, after all. He was so attentive and observant not only of Sieun's behavior, but also his appearance. How could he even think Suho wouldn’t notice?

“I think you know what happened.” Sieun said quietly after a long while. He really didn’t want to have this conversation.

Suho let out a short, frustrated laugh.

“Sieun-ah, you know that's not what I'm asking. I mean… Why do you do this?”

“Why do you want to know?” Sieun asked. It was a stupid question, he knew it, but if it could allow him to weasel out of actually talking about his reasons, then he was more than eager to keep turning Suho’s questions around.

His newly-set boyfriend looked at Sieun with a disbelief painted all over his face.

“You know, for someone so smart, you can be really dense sometimes,” he said. Then he licked his lips, an undeniable sign he was stressed too.

“Because I want to know more about you, Sieun-ah. I want to know what troubles you. So you don’t need to take it out on yourself.”

Suho’s tender words and his honest, warm gaze made Sieun bit on his lip as he felt his eyes getting wet. Still, he refused to cry in front of Suho. 

The other boy didn’t look surprised by his silence and retreat. He only sighed heavily and grabbed Sieun’s hand, careful not to touch the scarred skin.

“I’m not pressing you to talk about it right now, okay? Like, I know it’s probably uncomfortable as hell. But I need you to tell me, eventually. Okay?” And then, not waiting for the answer, Suho closed his arms around Sieun in a tight hug. There was something slightly different about this kind of touch. One of the first things Sieun noted about Suho was that he liked physical contact and often searched for it. An arm loosely draped around Sieun’s shoulder (or back. Or, even better, waist). Fingers interlaced together as they held hands. Not to mention all those kisses and make out sessions that left Sieun with swollen lips and inappropriate thoughts.

Yet now, his tight embrace felt like a pure consolation. At least that's what Sieun thought Suho was trying to express. It didn’t fully manage to put him at ease, but Sieun felt a little better. They laid for a while in silence, Suho still holding him as Sieun buried his face in the fabric of Suho’s windbreaker.

“Sieun-ah?” the bigger boy asked.

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be there. Y’know, when you’re ready to talk.”

For a moment, Sieun said nothing. Then he quietly murmured “I know. Thank you.”

But Sieun did not know. Not really. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say to Suho, who was working multiple jobs, catching small bits of sleep on a hard school desk. Suho, who didn’t even have parents.

Telling him he felt overwhelmed by his own parents and the feeling his life didn’t have any bigger goals or meaning? That he resented them for only caring if he didn’t cause any troubles and not how he felt or how was doing in general? That he kept prickling, cutting and scratching himself to feel something and get himself together? It sounded pathetic even in his head.

────── ✧ ──────

Suho wasn't sure how he ended up falling for Yeon Sieun of all people. He'd been to a few dates with girls before, but he didn't really feel it. He didn't find himself gay either. He just had more important things to do and a very limited time to spend with other people.

As the mock exam wasn’t graded, Suho didn’t bother to mark his answers. He was going to analyse everything on his day off on the weekend.

Instead, he laid his head on the desk for his usual nap. But it soon got interrupted by the quiet kid, who suddenly started to slap himself and he didn’t stop until his cheek was bright red and bruised. Suho’s groggy mind registered the teacher’s voice as she tried to bring him to his senses. And, of course, the murmurs from the other students. Someone muttered in disbelief “What’s wrong with him?”

It ended just as suddenly as it started. The boy stood up on shaky legs and swayed as he made his way out of the classroom. For a while, there was an awkward silence.

And then everybody came back to their tests like nothing happened.

Suho briefly thought maybe he should check up on him, because there was clearly something wrong with that student. As if he was drunk. Or on the verge of stroke. Eventually, he shrugged it off. He was tired. And he could remember now that boy always chose to be alone, burying himself in the books and glaring at anyone who tried to make any interaction with him.

It was already late afternoon, the last class, really. Suho was trying to catch another small nap before his shift at the restaurant, when he heard a loud thud, followed by an ear-pricking scream.

And there he was — the quiet kid, the same who'd slapped himself earlier, came at Youngbin, the class troublemaker. He grabbed the window curtain and wrapped it around the other boy’s face.

His movements weren’t trained or experienced. They were ferocious and instinctive as he kept hitting Yeongbin with a book. Someone gasped as the fabric on the boy's face got soaked with blood from most likely a broken nose.

Suho didn’t particularly feel sorry for Youngbin. He actually thought that the guy, with all his overconfidence and bullying the weaker students, deserved to have his ass kicked. And even not paying attention, Suho knew he specifically had mocked that boy. Youngbin totally had it coming.

But things got ugly when he landed on the floor, his face a total mess. The quiet kid — Sieun, as he vaguely remembered  —  was already preparing to smash Youngbin's face with his foot when Suho decided to step in.

He shoved the smaller boy away and warned him not to cross the line. It only caused Sieun to turn his anger on him.

What a freak, Suho thought as the other boy came at him — a serious mistake on his part. Even though Suho wasn't an MMA athlete anymore, he was still one of the best fighters in the whole school. And he certainly wasn’t going to just keep dodging when someone was going at him with a fucking chair.

He quickly brought Sieun back in line with a well-aimed punch to the face. Despite his clear daze, Sieun wasn’t going to stop. He braced himself and was already about to throw himself at Suho, when the sharp voice of the teacher called his name. 

“What are you two doing?!”

She decided to show up just in time, Suho thought ironically. 

The teacher seemed to be terrified with all that mess of chairs and desks scattered around, one of the students laying half-conscious with a bloodied face, another two fighting.

Suho immediately decided not to make their situation worse, apologizing and urging Sieun to do the same. The other boy, as shocked as he was, thankfully came along. They didn’t interact after. The class finished and Sieun was taken to the principal’s office. Completely not surprising, looking at the fact that he’d just basically smashed that guy's face. Suho didn’t think about the possible consequences for long. He was just happy he wasn’t held accountable for that incident. He already had his own troubles and duties to take care of.

However, the next day his nap was interrupted — again — by Sieun, who stubbornly kept patting his arm until Suho came back to life, glaring at him. Sieun apologized for his previous behavior and, much to Suho’s surprise, offered to pay for his lunch. Suho didn’t really feel like interacting with that guy, but he would never say no to free food, so he ended up sitting in front of Sieun in the school cafeteria. He thought they’d spend lunch in awkward silence, but Sieun actually answered his questions and even asked some on his own.

Suho thought them eating lunch together would be a one-time thing, but it turned out not to be the case. They hung out together on a school break a few more times and Suho even accidentally found out where Sieun lived when he’d mistaken the address while doing his deliveries. The sight of familiar, big eyes when Sieun opened the door was unexpected, but nice nonetheless. Suho invited himself in, demanding a glass of water because he was drained and also felt like teasing Sieun a little. Sieun did not hide his reluctance, but Suho had already noted by that time that the other boy was kind.

Not in an obvious, open way. His kindness and care were shown through small gestures, like leaving the light turned off after entering the class early in the morning and finding Suho sleeping on the desks after one of the night shifts. Or buying a coffee in a vending machine for both of them, even though Suho didn't ask him to.

One time they went out to play pool together, and even though Suho failed miserably, he still had real fun. He later persuaded Sieun to let himself be driven home on his motorbike. And Suho just couldn't not notice how cute Sieun looked in his red helmet, with his lips pouted and fringe pressed flatly against his forehead so it fell slightly over his doe eyes.

It wasn't that Suho hadn't known earlier that Sieun was a nice view to look at — the type he wouldn't exactly call handsome. Rather angelic. Or simply beautiful. And, since Suho acknowledged his attraction to Sieun, he kept peeking at the other boy probably much more often than it was appropriate.

He wasn't scared of his own feelings, but he couldn't read Sieun and predict his reaction at all. Suho didn’t think his painfully nerdy, antisocial friend had ever been on a date, much less in an actual relationship. He never seemed to be interested in such things.

And Suho did not plan to hit on him. It just happened incidentally one day when he was teaching Sieun self-defence. He grabbed Sieun’s wrists and gave his cheeks a light, almost playful tap, reminding him to protect his chin and jawline. And, god, Sieun was so adorable with those chubby cheeks. The way they contrasted with his serious face… Suho just couldn't help but lean in to peck Sieun's lips. He could sense the other boy getting tense. But Sieun didn't pull back or shove him away. Suho considered it a good sign.

“Sorry, you were so cute I couldn't contain myself!” Still, he decided to brush it off with a chuckle.

Unsurprisingly, Sieun didn't comment on his action. In fact, except that one flinch, he seemed to remain unbothered, his face as impassive as always. After dropping Sieun in front of his apartment, Suho decided to try his luck one more time.

This time, his friend not only didn’t step back, but he tentatively moved his lips, as if trying to give back the kiss. Suho was thrilled. As a realist, it was too soon to tell he’d fallen for Sieun, but he definitely felt drawn to him. And Suho knew very well that, if Sieun didn’t appreciate his actions, he would have made it very clear — with a punch to Suho’s face, probably.

So Suho continued this wordless game. He didn’t make any statements, just kept kissing Sieun, hugging and touching him. Sieun never initiated on his own, but he seemed content with all those things Suho was doing.

Sieun was also much more fun to be around than Suho had initially thought. He was spending a lot of time studying and never let himself skip it, but he was also clever and surprisingly kind. Suho liked to discover other layers of his personality, laugh at 
Sieun’s witty remarks and listen to his deep voice as Sieun was patiently explaining math equations to him.

And kissing. God, did Suho love kissing him. Sieun’s lips were a little dry, but still soft and plump as if they were created just to be kissed. They also gradually started to pass other boundaries, Suho’s hand occasionally brushing past the hem of Sieun’s shirt.

But there was one thing that kept nagging Suho. He’d noticed that during one of their training sessions at the park. Sieun was wearing a plain T-shirt, and when he reached towards Suho to help him get up, he saw it — the row of barely visible scratches. Some of them were silver, like long-healed scars, but the others were definitely fresh. And they were too neat, too… methodical.

Suho may have not seen such marks in real life, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew what they meant. He’d read some articles about self-harming and its reasons. The regulation of emotions. The sense of control. The need to feel something, even if just pain. 

And, while Suho's brain understood those mechanisms, his heart couldn't. As a former MMA fighter, he was used to the sight of blood and various injuries. To getting hurt, too. 

Suho couldn’t say that he only chose healthy ways to relieve his emotions (at least he used to do so, when he was younger and still had time and energy for that.) But harming and weakening your own body? The benefits from that were questionable and definitely not bigger than a good training or even talking to somebody would bring.

He knew that was probably a sensitive matter to Sieun, though. Suho didn’t want to pretend he didn’t see that Sieun was hurt, but he needed to handle it the way that wouldn’t startle his friend or make him feel cornered.

He decided to bring it up the day they officially got together. Suho could see how tired Sieun was, so he kept nagging him until Sieun finally agreed to take a break. They lay on the bed, Suho simply enjoying the closeness of a warm, smaller body right next to him. 

He hadn’t expected Sieun to come with the question about what was between them right at that moment, but he was happy nonetheless. But, as they settled their relationship and Suho stole a kiss, he couldn’t help but feel weird responsibility for the other boy.

He tried asking him about the marks, but Sieun brushed him off.

Of course he did.

It was so painfully clear Sieun did not want to talk about it that Suho felt like all he could do was drop it for now, assure Sieun he was there for him, and stay alert for the future.

Eventually, Suho decided to give Sieun some space, hoping he’d come to him on his own, while he kept watching him in the meantime. He could sense Sieun stiffening every time he was about to lift the smaller boy’s shirt, so he didn’t push him to show more of his body than he was comfortable with. But Suho still caught sight of the crescent-shaped bruises on Sieun’s ribs. The same kind that his palms were imprinted with, as Sieun had a habit of clenching his fists nervously to the point of his nails pressing into the delicate skin.

Suho tried to grab his hand so he wouldn’t hurt himself whenever he saw Sieun doing this, but it clearly wasn’t enough. He did some research on the topic as well. As he was scrolling through articles and even some comments of the people who were going through similar problems, he found a passage that particularly stuck with him.

It talked about how self-destructive behavior didn't necessarily need to be about physically hurting one's body. There were so many ways, most of them easy to miss. Like treating rest or food as a prize that needs to be earned first.

As for Sieun, Suho knew he often ignored his own tiredness and ended up falling asleep at the desk. Plus, Sieun definitely didn't pay much attention to food. Suho found out about it the day he decided to pay Sieun a surprise visit and cook a meal for him. He wanted to improvise with the ingredients his boyfriend already had at home, but all he found in the fridge was store-bought gimbap and milk.

Suho started to invite Sieun to study and his workplace even more often, secretly stuffing him with as much food as the other boy had the patience to take. He didn't think Sieun was purposely neglecting his rest and nutrition. To Suho, it rather seemed like he just didn't find it particularly relevant. He didn't seem to enjoy it either — he was only doing the bare minimum so his body could keep going.

Suho's lifestyle was exhausting as well. He worked most of the days and spent countless nights doing deliveries, only catching a few hours of sleep on the hard school desk. But it only made him cherish small things like good food or soft bed even more. Then he started cherishing Sieun (as embarrassing as it was to admit that). And it hurt him to see his boyfriend hurting and not taking proper care of himself.

────── ✧ ──────

Sieun only realized how bland and lonely his life had been after meeting Suho. Before, he was just one of the vague figures in the background. The weird boy, who was sleeping through most of the classes, seemed to think about food most of the time and never started fights, yet always ended them. Suho also turned out to be painfully direct, but fair. Sieun honestly didn’t think the other would want to have anything to do with him after that payback lunch.

Of course, he explained his off-the-wall behavior. How he slapped himself to shake off of the weird daze. How he discovered in the restroom that he’d got drugged, which led him to attack his bully and then Suho, when the other boy intervened. Still, Sieun didn’t think Suho would want to have anything to do with him. People found him weird and off-putting. As much as Sieun didn’t know what exactly about him triggered the other students so much, he long ago got used to that and learnt not to care.

But, surprisingly, Suho started to treat him like they were friends. And Sieun found himself reaching for Suho as well. It somehow felt natural.

When thinking about why they even started to hung out together in the first place, Sieun understood that Suho must have felt lonely, too. Especially after he found out Suho worked a few jobs to support his grandma and he didn't really have either time or energy to befriend their classmates.

Sieun didn’t even think before that we could have so much fun in his daily life. Suho showed him there was more than just school and his own room. They still spent plenty of time there, as Sieun was anxious at the thought of not scoring top results and he didn’t let himself drop his guard and finish the day without studying at all.

But apart from that, they also went to play pool, some video games, and to the movie theater. Sieun wasn’t a big fan of watching movies, so he ended up watching Suho instead. He liked his carefree laugh and focus on the action scenes.

Suho also regularly forced him to go for a run or practice together. Sieun always felt worn out and uncomfortably sweaty after, but he needed to admit to himself that he did feel better.

Healthier. Not so tired all the time.

Of course, after becoming a couple, their physical activity remained less and less innocent — not exactly surprising, they were adolescents. Suho kept stealing kisses from Sieun whenever he could, earning a light smack on the head whenever he did it in a place someone might have seen them. The way they touched grew bolder as time passed. Eventually, they even ended up with hands in each other’s pants, breathing heavily as they jerked off together.

But even then, Sieun kept his shirt on, preferably the long sleeved one. It wasn’t that he had any complex about his body per se. Naturally, he wasn’t nearly as fit as the other boy, his own belly soft in comparison to Suho’s toned one. But he knew Suho liked his body. His possessive touch and the throbbing hard-on Suho gradually stopped bothering to hide were enough reassurance for Sieun.

What really scared him was Suho’s gaze. The way he sometimes looked at Sieun with an odd mix of concern and confusion, as if he was a task Suho couldn’t understand. And the way he sometimes touched Sieun’s arms, his ribs, palms… All the places where he could find the marks.

Sieun didn’t like it. He didn’t feel judged, not exactly, but branded.

Vulnerable.

Inadequate.

And he didn’t know how to handle this, not in front of a person who actually paid attention to his actions and was trying to guess what stood behind them.

Suho didn’t ask again since that first time. Not right after, anyway. But Sieun could sense he wanted to. The way his eyes lingered on Sieun, how Suho sometimes hesitated before talking to him. The smaller boy felt like they were playing some kind of a cat and a mouse game.

Eventually, Suho broke the silence a few weeks later. He saw fresh marks on Sieun's wrists — cuts from the razor, this time. They weren't deep and probably would have already healed if Sieun didn't keep scratching them, peeling off the scabs before they even fully formed.

He rolled his eyes as Suho didn’t let him change the topic.

“Why do you even care, anyway? It's not like I'm hurting anyone!” he snapped eventually.

Suho looked at him incredulously and closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience.

“You're hurting yourself. It's really hard to see that, you know?” Suho's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I'm your boyfriend. I want to help.”

“You already did a lot for me. You can't help with everything.”

“I can try. But it’s hard if you don’t let me in.”

Sieun had no answer for that. It wasn't that he didn't try. He tried to briefly explain to Suho why he felt the need to damage his own skin, but he didn't think Suho understood. He didn't think that anyone without the same thing could get it.

Still, Suho tried to come with a solution.

“Go for a run.”

“Squeeze something. I can buy you a stress ball.”

“Don't think about it. Call me instead.”

He had good intentions, but completely missed the point. Sieun had only told him about a need to relieve stress, which wasn't a lie. But the part about being in control and punishing himself was too much to talk about. Sieun felt pathetic and unbearably bare at the very thought of sharing it with Suho. And what was the point, anyway? It wasn't like it would really change anything.

Apart from that one matter, they were getting along well and enyoying each other's company. Sieun’s attempts to force some studies on Suho paid off and the other boy passed his midterm exams with much better results than expected.

In the meantime, Sieun met Suho's haelmoni. She turned out to be a slightly built woman with silver hair and a warm, spry personality. Sieun could see so much of Suho in her, especially when she started nagging him about being too thin and put extra food on his plate. The other thing that she apparently passed to her grandson was her unusual directness.

“So, tell me, are you two going out already?” she asked after a meal, when they all were enjoying tea and a casual chat.

“Haelmoni!” Suho called, but she only giggled.

“What, do you think I can't see the way you look at each other? I once was young and in love too, you know?”

“You're right. We've been dating for some time,” Sieun said. Funnily enough, he didn't feel embarrassed. He was safe here, with Suho and his grandma, who wasn’t judging them a bit and obviously was excited for their happiness. God, it felt good to have another person in his life who actually was excited about Sieun.

Suho made big eyes, clearly not expecting him to be so open about it. But, judging by the fact he peppered Sieun's face with kisses right after they got alone, he didn't mind it a bit.

Soon, the midterms holiday ended and they came back to school. Sieun suggested Suho could go to his place instead of school after his night shift as a delivery boy. His poor back could use a real bed instead of a hard desk in a classroom, and with Sieun's presence, he didn’t need to worry about oversleeping.

At the beginning, it felt unnatural and awkward to lie with another person, but it somehow grew on him. Sieun definitely wasn't going to admit that to Suho, but he was actually looking forward to cuddling a bit and waking up to each other’s warmth.

It was soothing.

Touching on a sense of safety he didn't even know he'd been missing.

But Suho coming by at night and finding him studying — or asleep at the desk — intensified his nagging about Sieun's unhealthy lifestyle. And, as much as Sieun liked spending time with Suho, it started to feel suffocating.

This weird dynamic between them continued. Eating lunch at school, Suho occasionally picking Sieun up from cram school, watching movies and studying together. Discussing and bickering over silly, little things. Exploring each other’s bodies in the intimate moments, full of quiet trust and nervous excitement. The way Suho always pulled Sieun close to him, even deep in his sleep.

Thinking about those moments, Sieun felt probably the happiest he’s ever been. And yet, he couldn't shake off the impression they were fragile. Ready to break at another comment on him skipping meals, the small wounds he carried or whatever else Suho found to be a problem.

Any attempts to explain that this was the life Sieun knew and he didn't mind it felt like talking to a brick wall. His reasonable part knew it was care. But the rest of him felt hurt at a familiar sense of being not the way he should be.

That feeling of being pressured escalated gradually until it finally burst out with full force.

It happened when Suho brought up the topic of Sieun's parents.

“What?” Sieun looked up from the Advance Algebra book, suddenly tensed.

Suho tongued his cheek.

“I've said that you should try to talk more to your parents. You never tell them anything.”

“Well, they don't ask. Honestly, I don't think they give a crap.”

“Surely they would if they knew about the action with the fentanyl. Or you taking things out on yourself. You should at least try to tell them.”

“Damn, Suho-ya. I thought you were my boyfriend?” Sieun blurted before he managed to stop himself.

That earned him a puzzled look from Suho.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you behave like a guardian. Like I’m a kid who can’t manage on his own.”

“You surely are stubborn like one!” Suho blurted, which only triggered him more.

“Oh, if I'm such a problem, then why do you even bother? Do you have a hero complex or what?”

This was wrong. Sieun knew he was being mean, but he couldn't stop the wave of frustration that spilled out of him.

Suho looked at Sieun like he saw him for the first time — and in a way, he did.

“Are you even hearing yourself? I… I don't understand. Why won't you stop pushing me away?”

“Because I’m not a fucking project, Suho-ya! You don't get to shape me however the hell you want!”

Suho laughed incredulously. This was the unfamiliar, cold sound Sieun immediately decided he didn't want to hear ever again.

“You really think that’s what this is about? The control?”

After a few moments passed and it became clear he wouldn't answer, Suho took a deep breath, visibly calming himself, and continued. There was desperation and begging in his voice, and it was hard to stand.

“I’m not trying to boss you around, Sieun-ah. I care about you. Why is it so hard for you to accept it?”

“I never asked you to care.”

Sieun’s voice was quiet. Final.

And Suho must have caught that, because he just stood there in silence, watching him with an expression Sieun’d never seen before. It was a mix of hurt, anger and realization. It was like some spark inside him suddenly went out. And Sieun understood he’d crossed a line the moment Suho — still without a single word — turned sharply, grabbed his stuff and left.

The slam of the door echoed unnaturally loud through the empty apartment. And it was more painful than any answer or accusation might have been.

It took him a few seconds to process what actually happened. How his attempt at defending his boundaries led to Sieun utterly messing up. The apartment already felt hollow and lifeless without Suho.

Sieun sank down to the floor, trying to suppress the tight, suffocating panic rising somewhere in his chest. Then he curled up, his body shuddering as he tried to choke back a sob. But there was no one left for Sieun to pretend to be strong for anymore. So eventually, he gave up and let himself burst into tears.