Work Text:
The only reason Baek Saheon is spending his Sunday afternoon at a limb loss support group meeting, is that his company promised to give him time off for it.
The whole thing is very silly, and he does not belong here. Saheon didn’t even lose a limb. Sure, his eye is gone, but it’s really nothing major. At least nothing major enough to motivate him to sit in a high school auditorium with a bunch of sad strangers. But again, paid time off. If his employers are dumb enough to offer this, he’ll take it with a smile. After all, it’s their fault he can’t see anything to his left without getting a crick in his neck.
The flyer his (company supplied) therapist handed him had spoken about the positive psychological effects of peer support, lifelong friendships, and help in finding other relevant resources on the long road to recovery. He was most excited about the promise of free food.
His greatest surprise upon arrival is that his low expectations were somehow too high. There are eight people besides himself, taking up a tiny corner in the huge room. Next to their pre-arranged chair circle, two tables are crammed against the edge of the auditorium’s stage, bearing a couple pitchers of water, two cans of coffee, several plates filled with stale cookies and what must be someone’s homemade salad. He can’t see any bowls.
The coffee is barely tolerable after Saheon takes most of the sugar packets for himself, but at least it gives him something to do with his hands during their little introduction round. Saheon, as the newbie, is forced to go second.
First is a guy in a wheelchair who lost both legs while trying to save civilians from a burning building when he was working as a firefighter. He introduces himself as Ryu Jaekwan. “We’re all very glad to have you with us, Baek Saheon-ssi. I hope you will find our group helpful.”
Saheon forces himself to smile. He tries not to think about what it must look like – his smile has turned lopsided since the incident. At the start, moving his face at all hurt his eye so much he barely spoke or ate, and now he can’t stop noticing the way his cheek presses against the horrible hard-plastic eyepatch his doctor said he’ll need to wear for at least another two weeks. He reminds himself that this is temporary. Once he gets a glass-eye people will barely notice there is something odd about him and his carefully practiced smile will work to full effect again. Patience.
“I’m glad to be here.” Turning to look at Ryu Jaekwan means he can’t see most of the circle. “I didn’t know programs like this existed. It must be a lot of work to organise.”
Ryu Jaekwan looks like the type that logs his breakfast’s macro nutrients in Excel and enjoys doing taxes. He nods solemnly, like Saheon made some profound observation.
Seconds pass. Silence settles awkwardly around the group. Saheon tries very hard to keep smiling and even harder not to tap his fingers against his cup. The acoustics in this place make every sound linger, strangely making the silence louder. Whoever designed the place must have been both evil and unfamiliar with the amount of noise teenagers make while pretending to listen to announcements.
Somewhere to his left, a person clears their throat. Saheon’s head whips to the side before he can stop himself. The culprit – and elderly woman – smiles and starts talking like Saheon didn’t just get into an accidental staring contest with their organiser.
At least her (dreadfully boring) story about diabetes complications gives him the opportunity to relax.
Saheon is not enjoying himself. Maybe he is further off his rhythm than he thought. Is he really that easy to intimidate? Hasn’t he approached every new social situation since coming to Seoul the same way? The key to finding his place is to figure out who is below him. He has no illusions about being at the top of the pecking order, but he refuses to be at the bottom. Someone here must be easy to step on.
He discards the old people immediately. He wants someone that can actually do things for him and won’t talk his ear off about retirement funds and rheumatism. This leaves three potential victims: Ryu Jaekwan, a cheerful woman with white hair and two prosthetic legs, and a nervous looking man with glasses missing a forearm. Ryu Jaekwan is obviously out.
The cheerful woman starts talking next. Apparently, her name is Lee Songhae, and she does not understand what an introduction is. At least that’s what Saheon suspects since she exclusively talks about a trip to some amusement park without mentioning her legs even once. Was sharing their traumatic backstories not the point of the group? Or maybe everyone else already knows what happened and she’s looking down on Saheon.
“I thought about slashing his tires after he cut me in line, but I remembered what Soleum-ah said about giving people grace, so I just pretended he pushed me and let the workers remove him,” she finishes with a bright smile.
Ryu Jaekwan sighs.
The elderly mostly give half-hearted chuckles, like they hope she’s lying.
The nervous guy smiles ever so slightly. “I’m glad you find my advice helpful.”
Lee Songhae tilts her head. “Aiyah, I wouldn’t say helpful. But trying Soleum-ah’s way of doing things is fun sometimes.”
“Still, it is nice of you to try. Thank you.”
“Soleum-ah is a nice person, of course I try.”
Saheon thinks if he tries to bully her, he will end up losing another eye.
That leaves only the nervous guy, ‘Soleum-ah’.
His little exchange with Lee Songhae puts him next in the speaking order. Maybe they’ve forgotten that Saheon is new and knows nothing and no one, because Kim Soleum doesn’t mention his arm either. He just quietly updates the group on his new place (he finally moved in but hasn’t had time to unpack all his boxes) and apologises for missing last month’s meeting (he caught the flu).
Saheon couldn’t be happier. This is the type he loves – introverted cowards who don’t know what to do with themselves unless someone is telling them how to act. And Saheon is very good at telling people how to act.
The rest of the meeting goes by slowly, time stretching like tar. Saheon even manages to finish the vile thing calling itself coffee in his cup. He does not, he finds, care about the plight of other people. No surprise there.
The only thing getting him through this farce is the thought that he is getting paid to smile politely at someone’s stupid anecdotes. One more meeting and gets a full day off. It’s not even timetheft!
That idea cheers him up enough that he even – once they are released to mingle – tries one of the cookies. They taste like wonderful, work-sponsored sawdust.
Ryu Jaekwan rolls up next to him (on his right, coincidence or pity?) while Saheon is contemplating whether another cup of coffee is worth the risk. He should probably go with water instead.
“Was everything to your satisfaction?”
“Oh, for sure. I found it all very, what’s the word, illuminating? I don’t have anyone like this around me.” He makes a vague gesture on ‘this’, meaning ‘broken beyond repair’.
“Finding community is one of the primary purposes of the group. A lot of younger members find it especially helpful to receive guidance from their elders.”
Saheon smiles and nods. Is this supposed to be smalltalk?
“Is this everyone?”
Ryu Jaekwan nods, “For the most part. There are some people who come by occasionally, but you have met all the regulars.”
“They all seem very nice.”
“They are.” He hesitates for a second. “…don’t take anything Songhae-ssi says to heart. She is very kind as long as you fulfil her moral standards.”
The crazy bitch.
“Thanks for the tip! I’m not good at first impressions either, I’m certain we’ll get along just fine.” He will need to avoid her until one of them dies. Hopefully her.
Saheon half-heartedly keeps answering questions until Ryu Jaekwan probably decides that he has fulfilled his welcoming duties and leaves to talk to someone else. Saheon finally manages to get his water. Sure, technically nothing was stopping him from pouring a glass while Ryu Jaekwan was watching, but Saheon doesn’t like being watched when he does things. He only needed to pour boiling water on his hand once before the lesson regarding his new lack of depth perception stuck. That does not mean he is a fan of his own overly careful manoeuvring.
At least no one else comes up to him until he is ready to go on the hunt.
A hunt he may have already lost because Kim Soleum is not in the fucking room anymore.
Saheon quickly gathers his things. This isn’t the end of the world, if Kim Soleum is gone, he can just catch him next month. It’s just that starting out strong is important when engaging in psychological torment.
He walks outside (sticking to the walls on his good side, he has enough bruises already) while booking a ride home (company sponsored, of course), a wave of relief hitting him when warm spring air replaces the lingering ghost of generations of deodorant-adverse teenagers. A second wave follows close enough to nearly rip him off his feet: Kim Soleum is sitting on a bench near the school gate.
As Saheon watches, he pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, places it between his lips and reaches back in to pull out a lighter. Strange, Saheon hadn’t pegged him as a smoker. Still, luck is luck.
He approaches, not bothering to soften his steps, making Kim Soleum look up when he plops down on the bench next to him.
“You got a spare one?” Saheon would not say he particularly enjoys smoking, but a free cigarette is a free cigarette.
Slowly, never looking away from Saheon, Kim Soleum pulls out a second cigarette. Saheon takes it and while his smile may be lopsided, it is also full of teeth.
“Baek Saheon, the new guy.”
“Kim Soleum. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Kim Soleum seems intent on quietly smoking now that he has given Saheon the minimum amount of polite attention. Saheon, however, needs to make sure that Kim Soleum’s intent will not be a driving force in their relationship.
“Are you waiting for someone?” He makes sure to blow his smoke in Kim Soleum’s direction. They’re both already smoking, he’d be a hypocrite on complain. And on schoolgrounds too!
“Mhm. Braun.”
Who the fuck is Braun.
“Who’s that?”
Kim Soleum takes a thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “He’s a… good friend. Used to be my husband.”
Saheon stares. What?
“He’s American.”
As if that explains anything.
Saheon looks at Kim Soleum again. Before, he’d only noticed the vaguely pathetic aura, but maybe the slender frame, round eyes framed by simple glasses and delicate lips do it for gay men. Whoever said it is forbidden to have bad taste?
“So you’re a gay?” This could be a good angle. “Shame that’s not very accepted in Korea… Not that I have a problem with it, of course. Do the others know? I worry what might happen one of the ahjummas finds out.”
“Thank you for your concern, Baek Saheon-ssi. I wouldn’t let him pick me up here if it were a problem.”
Kim Soleum takes a drag of his cigarette, lips softly closing around it before sucking in a breath. The smoke clouds around them on the exhale, stinging Saheon’s eyes.
“Good to know.”
Is he losing his touch? Usually, he’s much better at intimidating people. Maybe the missing eye makes him look pathetic. But shouldn’t it add to his scary aura? He really needs to get rid of the plastic eyepatch.
“Baek Saheon-ssi.”
“Huh?”
Suddenly, Kim Soleum does not like the sad little idiot Saheon was sure he is anymore. It must just be the setting sun playing with the shadows.
“Do you want to know how I lost my hand?”
He’s only been dying from curiosity. Sue a guy for being nosy!
“If you want to tell me.”
Kim Soleum looks him in the eye, unblinking. Saheon does not mean to swallow, but he can’t stop himself. He hadn’t noticed it behind the glasses before, but Kim Soleum’s gaze is intense and dark. Saheon feels his heart rabbiting away in his chest which is stupid, because he’s just sitting in front of a school with some guy who doesn’t even have both hands. Saheon would surely win in a fight.
“I cut it off, with a meat cleaver.”
He says it like it’s nothing, but not like he doesn’t mean it. Saheon’s eye flickers to where the stump reaches out of its sleeve, the scar long healed and barely visible in this light.
“W-why…?”
“To sell it. So someone else could eat it.”
Kim Soleum is still looking at him with that impenetrable gaze. It’s too cold for Saheon to sweat and yet his hands feel clammy.
Kim Soleum takes his cigarette and presses it out on the bench, right next to where Saheon is leaning on his hand. It’s close enough that he can feel the heat of it, close enough to fear the burn. Somehow, he can’t move away. The last bit of smoke escapes from Kim Soleum’s mouth like a soul, right into Baek Saheon’s face. He tastes it more than any drag he took from his own cigarette, hanging abandoned between his lips.
“Looks like my ride is here.”
Saheon can do nothing but watch as Kim Soleum gets up from the bench, pats off his trousers and starts walking toward a very expensive sportscar with a very tall man next to it. He raises his missing hand in a wave, “See you next time, Beak Saheon-ssi. I’m looking forward to it.”
Saheon does not move until his phone’s insistent buzzing informs him his ride is here. He rushes towards the car and tells himself he is not fleeing.