Archive of Our Own

"Haku Shota?" Mr Choi's voice echoed through the classroom but he was met with silence. A few students glanced back at the corner desk, which was usually occupied by both Jongseob and Shota. 

However, there was only one blonde sat there today. Jongseob shifted in his seat slightly under the nosey gaze of his classmates, deciding to look down at his notebook in an attempt to look busy.

Mr Choi spoke up after a moment, "Absent again," his voice was laced with disappointment, "Jongseob, i trust that you can remind Shota that if he misses out on any more of this curriculum, he won't be able to pass."

Jongseob nodded stiffly, glancing over at the vacant desk next to him, messy but still empty nonetheless. This had become a regular occurance. Small cracks that formed and disturbed their ordinary lives--and they all started with Shota.

Shota was different, he had always been different.

However, Jongseob had been silently watching Shota over the past few months; the subtle changes in routine, the injuries, the sudden increase in absences. Jongseob never asked questions, just watched, making a mental note of all the events--hell he was tempted to make an actual physical list at this point because nothing was making any sense.

It had started off small. Shota would show up to school with bruises-- uneven, purple patches blossoming against the boys pale skin, his clothes covered them sometimes but a few peaked through every so often; Jongseob had to hold back a wince every time he saw one.

Shota would always give a quick excuse and move on. Jongseob wanted to push the topic but he either didn't get a response at all or he did get a response but it was in the form of alien communication; which he is currently unable to decipher.

Then it started progressing.

Shota would show up with more extreme injuries that would be almost completely healed in a day, he started skipping school for atleast two days per week, and he cancelled plans last minute; sometimes he didn't even give a heads up that he couldn't make it. 

Just last week they had planned to meet up at a new cafe but Shota never showed up, leaving Jongseob there for hours until he eventually went home. Occasionally, Shota would send an quick apology text followed by some sad emojis but most of the time it was radio silence.

Jongseob couldn't tell if he was being rude or if he was just oblivious.

Suddenly, the door to their classroom was shoved open. Jongseob jumped slightly in his seat before he saw who it was.

There he stood in the doorway, Haku Shota.

Mr Choi glared at him as he entered. "Nice of you to join us." He sounded more defeated than angry, Shota just gave him an awkward smile in return.

Jongseob watched as he settled down in his desk, silently taking in his appearance.

His hair was scruffy, white gauze peaked out from beneath his sleeves, and his neck was red, bruised; almost resembling handprints, as if someone had dug their hands around the boys neck and choked him.

Jongseob felt his breathe hitch at the sight.

He didn't even have a chance to question any of it as Shota immediately slumped down onto his desk to sleep, not bothering to hide his lack of attention towards Mr Choi's teaching.

Shota looked tired. Really tired-- as if he was carrying the world on his shoulders. Jongseob wanted to help but he didn't know how, so reluctantly, he pulled his gaze away from Shota and back towards the board.

They stumbled into his dorm with the intention to study but it had been a few hours now and their books were still closed.

Jongseob was mindlessly scrolling through essays on his laptop. He let out a frustrated sigh, pushing his chair away from his desk in a swift motion.

Shota hadn't even looked up from where he was situated on Jongseob's bed, scrolling through his phone. 

"Shota,"

No response.

"Shota." A little louder but still no answer.

"Shota!" He whined, dragging out the last couple of letters as he spoke.

The other boy lifted his head up for that, "What?" He said, putting his phone down.

They locked eyes as Jongseob spoke. "I'm bored." Shota rolled his eyes but there was a smile stretched across his face. "What do you want to do then?"

He paused to think for a moment before letting out another sigh, "I don't know," he grumbled.

That drew out a giggle from Shota, leaving a warm feeling in Jongseob's chest as it rang throughout the room.

"Why don't we go to that cafe you want to try?" He offered and Jongseob lit up at the idea. "Your not going to leave me hanging again?"

It was meant to be a joke but he watched as Shota's expression faltered before settling into a frown. "I said I was sorry," he mumbled, "I've been busy lately."

Jongseob glanced at him with a contorted look. "You say that everytime," he hesitated, "if there's something going on, you would tell me, right?"

Shota looked uncomfortable under his gaze, he spoke. "Can we not do this right now."  

That irritated him slightly. Jongseob had been understanding, he'd put up with this longer than most people-- but he just couldn't do it anymore.

"So when can we do this?" His voice held more force this time. "You've been acting weird for months now and I've tried to be understanding but Shota you've seriously got to help me out here because I'm lost."

He watched Shota open and close his mouth a couple of times before his face scrunched up and he said, "Can you just stay out of it? It's not any of your business."

"It is my business because your my best friend and we used to actually talk and do things together." He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling more upset as the conversation went on. 

"I'm here Shota, so talk to me. I cant sit and watch you run yourself into the ground for much longer." 

When Shota didn't respond, he continued. "I've tried, I really have but I cant do this anymore. I'm sick of seeing you like this. I don't think I've seen you without some sort of injury for months and your not yourself."

He got up from his chair and sat down on his bed, painfully aware of the distance between them. "Talk to me, lean on me, cry on me. Just don't keep it all to yourself," his voice softened, "I'm right here, don't leave me in the dark."

The silence that followed was sickening until Shota broke it by shuffling out of the bed.

Jongseob didn't say anything until the realisation hit him. He was leaving.

"Where are you going?" He squeaked, bringing his hand out to grasp at the other boys wrist. 

Shota paused and glanced back at Jongseob-- holding his gaze for a moment too long. "I can't do this right now." 

He managed to choke out a weak, "Shota," until he felt the other boy pull away.

Jongseob felt his own hand fall and go limp at his side, silently watching Shota pull the door open. "You can't fix everything Jongseob, just drop it."

Jongseob felt himself stiffen at that, several emotions flooded his mind; anger, guilt, frustration, and something else he couldn't quiet place.

Shota shot out a quick, "I'll text you later." Before letting the door shut behind him.

They both knew he wouldn't.

It has been a week since their argument. Shota hadn't shown up to school once that week and Jongseob couldn't help but think it was his fault.

"Should've kept my mouth shut." He mumbled to himself, mindlessly kicking a pebble-- forcing it to tumble out onto the road.

He was currently walking aimlessly along the city streets, no real destination in mind. The city lights almost resembled stars in the skyline as he walked. It hadn't even registered to him how late it was until he heard movement behind him.

He shot a quick glance over his shoulder but it was too dark to see anything. He tried to ignore it and move on but his skin was crawling-- was he being followed?

He cautiously pulled out his phone, dialing the number for an uber with shaky fingers, unclear whether that was from the cold or the fear dripping down his spine. As he passed by an alleyway, he felt a hand grab him-- pulling him into the shadows.

"What the fuck?-" He shouted, wrestling his hands out of their grip. He managed to use enough force to pull away, crashing into the wall in front of him from the momentum.

He blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were three men stood there. He couldn't quite see their faces, honestly he didn't even care, he wanted to go home. He wanted to apologise to Shota.

"The fuck are you looking at?" He hissed, dusting off his clothes. One of the men glared at him, "Watch that mouth." 

Jongseob caught a glimpse of something in the man's hand, its reflection from the dim city lights drew his attention.

A knife.

Shit.

"Empty your pockets." It was the man in the middle who spoke this time, but Jongseob didn't make a move; he just continued to stare, weighing out his options.

"I said empty your pockets!" He shouted. Jongseob couldn't help but flinch slightly, words stuck in his throat.

He was frightened-- but then he felt irritated, exhausted.

Realistically, these men weren't going to do anything serious. They were just trying to scare him, so he stood his ground; most likely a stupid decision.

"No." He mumbled. The man with the blade took a step closer, "What'd you say?"

"I said no," louder this time, "do you need me to spell it out got you?" None of them made a move, so he took it upon himself to leave.

Just as he was about to exit the alleyway he felt someone grab him from behind. "Get off me you piece of-" He felt his stomach drop when something cold was pushed flush against his neck.

He could feel the man's breathe against his neck and it was suffocating.

"Empty his pockets for him." The third man spoke, he'd been silent up until now. However, just as one of them reached for him there was a cough, disrupting the moment.

At the entrance of the alleyway stood a man, Spider-man, wearing his signature black and green suit. "I'm not interrupting am I?" 

Jongseob had heard about him; he'd seen the videos online and he even saw the man swinging around the city occasionally, but he'd never actually been this close. In all the recordings posted online he sounded happy, playful, he seemed to have fun teasing the guys he fought-- but he didn't sound like that at all now. He seemed upset, almost mad.

In a swift motion, he shot out a web at one of the men and flung him against the wall. The man holding Jongseob froze, his grip loosened just enough for him to move around.

He kicked back hard and ducked down, slipping out from the man's grip as he let out a pained groan.

When he glanced up he saw the other two men webbed to the wall-- when had that happened?

The third man, still clutching his leg in a pain, was slowly making his way back towards Jongseob, glaring at him.

Spider-man swooped in immediately, shooting a web in the man's face before he grabbed hold of Jongseob. He tucked one hand beneath the his knees and held one around his back to keep him steady. "Catch you guys later!" The man yelled back as he lifted off into the air with Jongseob in hand.

"Holy shit!" He screeched, reaching his hands up to wrap them around Spider-man's neck. The man laughed-- he sounded so familiar but he couldn't focus properly with his stomach doing flips.

He felt the grip around him tighten slightly, it wasn't much but it was grounding. "Your fine, don't worry."

Just like that it was over as he felt them lower on the air. He opened his eyes as they made contact with concrete, feeling slightly lightheaded as Spider-man lowered him down back onto solid land.

His legs buckled beneath. "Not so fast," the man snickered, holding him upright. "Shit, sorry." He mumbled, embarrassed.

He backed up slightly, giving a slight bow before straightening himself. "Um," he fumbled with his words, "thank you for saving me back there."

"Always happy to help." Spider-man responsed easily and even though Jongseob couldn't see his face, he could tell he was smiling behind the mask. "Try not to stay out too late," he tilted his head playfully, "pretty boy like you is bound to get into trouble." 

Jongseob choked on nothing.

Laughter bubbled out of the man again before he gave Jongseob a wave. "Stay safe, seobie."

He was gone with a swift flick of the wrist, Jongseob watched as he disappeared round a building and off into the bustling city.

He looked around and realised he wasn't far from his dorm-- thank god-- but just as he began his journey he skidded to a stop.

Spider-man's words 'Stay safe, seobie' echoed in his mind, simple and innocent; except for one thing.

Jongseob never told him his name.

The city was busy as Jongseob walked along.

He was on his way to meet his friend Intak, and his boyfriend, Taeyang, for coffee before their next lecture that morning.

Everything was going fine until there was a loud screech, followed by a crash. Jongseob stopped at the traffic lights, among many other civilians, and watched as Spider-man battled against a man on a glider in the middle of the street.

Villain attacks weren't unusual and Spider-man usually finished them off in record time-- but when ones locked away in prison, another one shows up.

Him and Keeho used to call them 'average villains of the week,' because they never lasting long. Occasionally, there was a few that hung around a bit longer, like the current man he was fighting-- be vaguely recalled seeing him on the news these past few weeks; he called himself 'The Green Goblin' which was corny in Jongseob's opinion.

Nonetheless, this fight was blocking the way to the Cafe he was meant to meet Intak and Taeyang at.

He let out a groan, fed up with the situation-- could this guy have picked any other time to pick a fight?

As he watched the two battle, his mind wondered to the night before where Spider-man had rescued him. It was definitely strange but he had tried not to dwell on it. He came to to conclusion that maybe they went to the same college, it was a massive campus so maybe they'd crossed paths?

It sounded stupid but it was the only reasonable explanation. He didn't want to think of the other obvious possibilities screaming at him.

"Watch out!" A women to his right screamed. He snapped his head up and saw a large object being hurled towards him after Spider-man had dodged it.

His body went stiff, no matter how badly he tried to will his muscles to move.

Then, in the blink of an eye, an arm hooked around his stomach and he was lifted off the ground. He let out a yelp and clutched the man holding him; he already knew who it was.

He looked up and saw black lenses staring back at him. "Hey pretty boy," they dipped slightly in the air, avoiding another projectile, "we've got to stop meeting like this." He sounded a little too happy for Jongseob's liking.

Before he knew it, his feet met solid ground and he felt Spider-man's grip linger longer than necessary around his waist. The man cleared his throat, drawing Jongseob's attention. 

"Try to stay out of trouble," he beamed before getting ready to depart, "I prefer you in one piece."

Jongseob found the comment strange, they'd only met twice now but he acted like they were friends-- as if they were close. Just before he took off, Jongseob felt his hand move faster than his body, and it took perch on the other boys wrist.

He paused and looked back, "don't tell me your missing me already," he playfully shook his head, "I haven't even left yet."

Jongseob hesitated for a moment-- how was he meant to word this? "Do we know eachother?" He quickly shot out.

He could feel Spider-man stiffen beneath his grip. "I just-" he bit his lip, "you sound so familiar and I can't shake this feeling."

The other boy let out an awkward laugh, gently pulling his hand away. "I don't think you do, so you must be mistaken." He took a step backwards and rubbed his neck, "I should go! Villains to fight, people to save. You know how it is." 

He was gone again, just like that, with a sudden 'thwip', leaving Jongseob alone with his thoughts.

Too many thoughts for his own good.

He knew-- or atleast he had a feeling.

Maybe he always knew but didn't want to believe it. Who would want to believe that their best friend was a vigilante with spider-like abilities? It was absurd! But the coincidences were getting harder to deny, he couldn't ignore it.

Shota was Spider-man.

When he really thought about it, it made sense. The first few times Spider-man appeared in the news was the same time Shota started acting strange.

Jongseob even went through some newspapers over the past months and on the days where Spider-man had a massive fight, Shota had shown up with a nasty injury-- or not even show up at all.

It was right in front of him and he didn't even see it.

Currently, he was curled up in his bed feeling empty and lost. He didn't understand why-- Shota was the one risking his life day by day and Jongseob wasn't doing anything.

But that was why he was so upset.

Shota had been struggling but he didn't ask for help.

He shouldn't have pushed Shota for answers. 

He should've been more understanding.

He should've been there for him.

With his face flush against the pillow, his eyes lulled shut and he gave into his exhaustion.

It was still night when Jongseob woke up, only having fallen asleep for a couple of hours.

He shot up suddenly, drenched in sweat. He felt like shit-- but that had been pretty common recently. Keeho had joked that he was having Shota-withdrawal, in response, Taeyang had promptly elbowed him in the ribs; which he was grateful for

No matter how much his friends joked, he knew they could feel it too. The tension slowly building up as the no contact between the two blondes stretched on.

Taeyang had pulled him aside one day and told him to apologise, even though he had no idea what their fight was about, but he ignored him. Not because he was mad, but because Shota wanted space, so he'd give him that space.

With a sigh he picked up his phone and checked his notifications until something caught his eye, a news headline. One click and he was redirected to a daily news website page detailing an on-going fight downtown.

There was a video attached, poor quality-- probably from a bystander-- but clear enough to see what was going on. There was a man in an ugly, emerald green costume and he was hovering on a glider, fighting off against Spider-man. He recognised him as the man from the day before.

Jongseob felt dread wash over him. Shota looked bad-- way worse than he'd seen for a while. On top of all the possible injuries, part of his mask had been ripped off, allowing small chunks of blonde hair to peak through.

If he wasn't sure before, he was certain now. That was Shota. Once he admitted it, it felt like he recognised so much that he tried to push down

In the video, he was spitting out quick teasing comments at his enemy. He knew that voice-- he loved that voice. 

The clip ended and he felt conflicted, but there was one thing he knew for sure. He needed to know that Shota was safe.

Jongseob fumbled with his phone as he clicked on Shota's contact, pulling it to his ear. He had no idea if the fight was still going on, but if it wasn't and if there was a small chance Shota could pick up, then he would take it.

The ringing went on but there was no answer. “We’re sorry but the person you are trying to reach is unavailable-“

He cut off the voicemail and called again. He kept doing this until he finally heard the ringing pause, no voicemail dialogue, mostly silence but he’d answered.

"Shota!" He spoke into the mic, voice hurried and desperate. "Are you okay?" Silence, but he managed to pick up on the faint sound of sirens.

"Goddammit, Shota-!" He was cut off with a 'beep'.

Shit.

His body was moving faster than his mind, relying fully on instinct,  as he dodged the glider heading towards him again. Every nerve is body was screaming for rest, begging him to give up but he couldn't.

So instead, he ran his mouth. "Hey, man to man, have you considered plastic surgery?" He shot a web at a small explosive send his way, sending it right back at The Goblin. "That is a face only a mother could love, no offence."

The man snarled at him, landing a hit right in the middle of his chest, sending Shota flying towards the unforgiving floor of the rooftop.

He huffed, sucking in breathes greedily. The man just glared at him, stepping off his glider. 

Quickly regaining his composure, he got up with a wince. The man didn't made a move, so neither did Shota. They maintained eye contact for what felt like forever until something broke the silence.

A ringtone.

His ringtone.

He pulled his gaze away, eyes narrowing in on his phone laying clumsily on the ground. It must have fallen out of his pocket in all the chaos. 

To his surprise though, the screen lit up with Jongseob's profile picture. After a week, outside of Spider-man duties because that didnt count, Shota and Jongseob hadn't spoken.

He tried shuffling over to it but the man got there first, walking over and picking it up with ease. “Give that back.” Shota found himself shouting, the sound of his web-shooter echoed through the air, in an attempt to snatch it back, but nothing came out.

Empty.

“Who’s this?” The man hummed out, flashing the screen his way. “Someone important to you?” Shota knew he was smiling just by the tone in his voice and it made him blood run cold.

The man waltzed over, closing the distance. “That’s none of your business,” Shota mumbled cautiously, "so give it back."

The man swiftly pulled away, just out of his reach, and clicked the answer button-- much to Shota's horror.

The familar sound of Jongseob's voice leaking through the speaker. "Shota," he sounded breathless-- was he having nightmares again? "Are you okay?"

Shota desperately wanted to respond but his tongue felt like sandpaper against his mouth. The Goblin was staring, eyes piercing him through the mask as he held up the phone.

"Godammit, Shota-!" He wasnt able to hear the rest as the man ended the call, discarding the device on the ground as he stood up.

He mounted his glider in a practiced motion. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want his blood on your hands,” the threat was subtle but clear, "so stay out of my way."

Silence stretched between them at Shota's lack of response. The man snickered and sprung into action, glider cutting through the air with ease.

Shota instinctively moved out of the way, landing off to the side. Nonetheless, The Goblin disappeared into the night-- out of Shota's reach.

He had half a thought to go after him but as he glanced down at his injuries he made the decision that going back after him would only make things worse by leave him out of commission for longer.

Instead, he stumbled over to where his phone had been left; preparing himself for the inevitable messages from Jongseob.

...

Seobie (<_<) : Shota.

Seobie (<_<) : Where are you?

Seobie (<_<) : What the hell was that about?

Seobie (<_<) : Please answer me

Seobie (<_<) : I need to know your okay.

...

He felt a pull at his heart as he read the messages. From the texts alone, Shota could tell that Jongseob had figured him out-- he's more surprised that it took him this long to pin him as the one behind the mask.

However, he didn't feel as worried about it as he thought he'd be. Instead he felt-- relief?

There was something comforting about sharing this secret with someone. It had been weighing on him for months and the worst part of it all was the lying.

But now Jongseob knew, or atleast he thinks he does, and Shota wouldn't want it to be anybody else.

'You wouldn't want his blood on your hands.'

The Goblins words replayed in his mind and it was obvious he had hit a sensitive topic. He didn't tell Jongseob to begin with because he was afraid getting him involved would get him hurt.

He wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to him. He cared-- no-- he loved him too much to let that happen.

That's when he felt it.

The overwhelming need to see Jongseob, to see that he was safe, and he was going to do just that.

He quickly refilled his web-shooters with a small vial of liquid and started making his way towards the otherside of town.

The wind was cold against him, pushing against his wounds as he zipped through the air. Jongseob and him stayed in student accommodations, just outside their campus.

As the building came into view, he surveyed the outside and noticed that there was only one dorm with the light on. He lowered himself down with a web, settling on the branch near the window.

Shota caught a glimpse of him straight away. Jongseob was sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, with a conflicted expression. He was chewing his lip anxiously, a habit Shota used to tease him for.

Seeing the boy safe, even if he was upset, made relief wash over him. He was okay, and that's all he needed to know.

Atleast he thought that was all he needed, but it was like his eyes were glued to him and it was making it harder to leave.

Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out with shaky hands and watched as it lit up with Jongseob's profile just like before. His finger hesitated over the answer button; it should be easy, right?

He should answer it, let him know he's okay and that he's got the wrong idea. 

Shota felt his eyes draw back to the window and saw tears building up in the younger boys eyes.

"Fuck it." He breathed out.

Realistically, staring at his phone wasn't going to make Shota answer but he didn't care. 

The silence and the abrupt hang up of their call had left him with a bitter-sweet feeling. On the brightside, he had answer. However, he hadn't said anything-- was he too hurt to talk?

Fear washed over him at the idea of Shota alone somewhere, stitching himself back together. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

He felt the tears spilling out before he could even process it, and once they started he couldn't make them stop.

He probably painted a pretty pathetic picture; isolated in his room, letting out weak sobs, even though its Shota who's in pain-- not him-- but he just couldn't help it.

Then he stiffened.

A soft sound from his door caught his attention, so light he didn't even notice it. He was about to brush it off, ignore it, when a more demanding knock followed.

He quietly sat up, keeping his steps light as he crossed the room. The doorknob was cool against his fingertips as he turned it slightly.

The door creaked open slightly, just enough to get a look. The light from his room leaked into the hallway, illuminating the persons face-- or rather lack of face.

He felt his breathe hitch as he locked eyes with familar lenses. His body moved fast, opening the door wider to get a better look.

Spider-man stood in his doorway, one hand against the wall for support while the other clutched his side.

"Hey pretty boy," the usual teasing tone was present but Jongseob picking up on something else hidden beneath.

Without another word, he moved and wrapped his arms around Jongseob's waist, pulling him into a hug and once the initial shock wore off, Jongseob easily reciprocated the gesture.

The other boy went so still that, if Jongseob couldn't feel his breathe against his own shoulder, he'd assume he had passed out.

They pulled away after a moment but their hands lingered. Jongseob found his hands slowly moving up from his shoulders to his cheeks.

His heart skipped a beat when the other boy leaned into the touch, the feeling of fabric beneath his fingers felt like a barrier.

A boundary he wasn't too sure he was allowed to cross.

Black lenses blinked at him, and Spider-man didn't even flinch as Jongseob's hands moved tqo the base of his neck; a sliver of skin peaked through and he subconsciously stroked over it. 

Then a whisper broke the silence. "You can take it off."

An offer so tempting he couldn't resist. He felt his fingers slip beneath the mask and the warm contrast of the boys skin compared to the cool fabric made him twitch.

More features were uncovered as the mask slipped up and Jongseob knew them all too well. His Adams apple that bobbed nervously, his plush lips that Jongseob yearned for, and the sharpness of his jaw that he used to run his finger along.

He couldn't drag it out any longer.

The mask was fully ripped off and discarded but Jongseob didn't look. He kept his eyes trained to the floor, heart pounding in his ear.

He felt a hand snake around his wrist, rubbing it gently. "Jongseob." A soft, familar voice, strung out; no longer obstructed by the mask.

Hesitantly, he pulled his eyes up. They bouncing along the boys features, taking it all in.

In front of him was Shota, his Shota. He face was riddled with scratches, all in different stages of healing, and he had a struck look on his face.

Still beautiful.

Still Haku Shota.

Their lips crashed against eachother, so fast it was unclear who made the first move, but it was perfect. Well maybe not perfect. It was uncoordinated and messy-- but it was so them.

Jongseob relaxed into the kiss, feeling Shota tilt his head slightly to deepen it. He gripped the boys suit like a lifeline, using it to pull them closer.

Shota was the first to pull away and he held back a whine at the loss of contact. Suddenly, Shota pushed the door shut behind him, maneuvering them around until Jongseob's back was flush with the cold wood.

He barely had a chance to recover as Shota reconnected their lips greedily. It was more intense this time, lips sliding over eachother with more heat and desperation.

Slowly, he felt Shota push his leg between his thighs. Hands explored his body and his tongue entered Jongseob's mouth.

He grinded against the boys knee, experimentally, and surprised himself with the noise that escaped his lips at the feeling.

He felt something warm begin to pool low in his stomach, face flushed red as he did it again-- chasing the feeling rippling through his body.

This time when they pulled away, they didn't immediately dive that into it. Instead, they stared at eachother and Jongseob couldn't fight the giggle that erupted out. Shota joined in and they stayed like that for a moment.

Eventually, Shota spoke up, voice laced with something more serious. "I know all this is a lot- everything going on with me is a lot." He hesitated, picking his words carefully. "If you didn't want to get involved- if you wanted to take it all back. I wouldn't blame you."

Jongseob felt himself frown, his hands lingered over Shota's ribs before moving up to cradle his face once again. "Never," he whispered, "Shota I've wanted this- I've wanted you for so long and I don't care if your life is complicated." 

He leaned in to kiss the corner of the boys mouth gently. "I want you, all of you, and that includes this part of you." The expression on Shota's face shifted from shock to something softer.

"I want to hold you when you get back from patrol. I want to listen to you complain about your problems. I want to be the one to patch you up after a hard day." The confessions flooded out of his mouth easily because they were the truth. "I want to be yours." The whole truth.

Shota stared at him, dumbfounded, and he couldn't help but feel a little sheepish-- had he said too much?

Then he felt Shota's arms wrap around him again, pulling him close as his head dropped into the crook of his neck. Jongseob could feel him brush his lips along the sensitive skin-- but then he felt something wet.

"Holy shit," he squeaked, "Are you crying?"

Panic settled over him, "Did I do something wrong?" The boy just shook his head, embracing Jongseob harder as he spoke. 

"You did everything right."

A comfortable atmosphere settled over them, the only sound was the rumbling of cars outside-- the city never slept.

They were currently settled in Jongseob's bed, wrapped around eachother; It was hard to tell where Jongseob started and Shota ended.

He had spent a couple minutes patching up Shota's wounds, ignoring the boys protests that they would be healed in a few days. He was deemed ready at some point and they rolled into bed like it was second nature.

A soft kiss against his forehead broke him away from his thoughts. He let out a sigh in response, burrowing further into Shota's neck. The boy didn't comment on it, just continued to stroke Jongseob's hair and kiss him stupid. 

Eventually, their positions shifted with Shota hovering over him, kissing his face and along his neck. Jongseob let out a groan after Shota sucked a little harder, pulling away briefly before kissing it lightly for good measure. 

"Did you mean everything you said before?" The question was so abrupt that Jongseob felt a little caught off guard but he composed himself easily.

"I meant every word."

He felt Shota smile against his neck, pulling away to stare at the the boy beneath him.

"Kim Jongseob," he whispered, so quiet he almost didn't hear it, "I think I'm inlove with you."

He felt his cheeks heat up and he didn't even try to suppress the stupid smile that infiltrated his expression. 

"I think I'm inlove with you too, Shota."