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Woojin drums his fingers on a table while distractedly scrolling through his phone. The meal is getting cold on the stove, but they should be back any minute now…
The phone buzzes like an angry fly headbutting a glass. Woojin answers it immediately.
"Bro, where are you? Is everything–-"
"Hong Woojin! Is that how you address your senior marine?!"
The chair scraps loudly as Woojin springs up. "HONG, WOO-JIN!" he announces to the empty kitchen. "My apologies, sir!" Then his voice drops a bit as he asks, "Did something happen?"
"No, not really get your hands away!"
Someone giggles - someone who sounds nothing like Mr. Moon.
"… sir?"
"Listen, Woojin... I got caught up in something with an old friend."
"Old?!" the voice says and then purrs.
"Is your friend a cat?"
Mr. Moon ignores the question and clears his throat before continuing. "It's about our problem and Gunwoo. I had to leave him behind in order to investigate the Truth Game for myself–" he trails off for a second as the giggling starts again. "Jesus Christ, Sujin, can you wait for just one second?"
In the meantime Woojin parses the information. "So you got high and now want me to pick you up, is that right? Are you in any danger?"
Mr. Moon mumbles something under his breath. "We're safe, but–" He sighs. "We're at the Pink Flamingo. I think you're familiar?"
The name triggers a sprint of emotions through Woojin's face.
"So maybe get your ass here sooner rather than later, yeah?"
"I'm coming," Woojin says curtly before he hangs up, puts the lid on the pot and bolts for the door.
~
The worry about finding Gunwoo in the club dissipates as soon as Woojin stops at the bottom of the stairs, having skilfully weave through groups of people in various stages of making out. He's sitting at a table on the other side of the dance floor, surrounded by at least half a dozen men on all sides.
They're talking loudly and laughing while Gunwoo just nods, his eyes darting from one person to the other as he hunches down with his hands clasped tightly in his lap. Under the table his leg bounces up and down, shaking the arrangement of colourful drinks precariously set upon it.
As one of the men grabs the back of Gunwoo's chair and leans down to whisper something, Woojin springs toward them, even though he still hasn't figured out what to say once he gets there.
Gunwoo notices him and perks up, silently pleading for help as he always does after getting crowded for too long.
"So like I said, if you want to see –" The man pauses to size Woojin up as he stops by the table. "Sorry, all the seats are already taken."
The way he says it makes it clear he doesn't really like him. Perhaps because Woojin in his bones jacket, counterfeit sneakers and worn-out bandana is pretty much the opposite of the man's chaebol-issued suit.
The bandaged hand, band aid on his nose and deep scowl probably don't help, either. "Find different seats, then. This table is for my boyfriend and me," he says in a sudden bout of inspiration.
The suit guy frowns. "Is that true?" he asks Gunwoo, who blinks and nods slowly.
One by one, the men start getting up, sighing and huffing, and in two cases greeting Woojin with a knowing smile.
Once they're alone, Woojin joins Gunwoo at the table. "Are you okay?" he asks, sitting down next to him.
Gunwoo's eyes, never leaving Woojin's face from the moment he showed up, close just before he hauls him over, along with the chair. His arms wrap around Woojin as he pulls him close and starts squeezing him like some kind of oversized teddy bear.
"Um, Gunwoo?"
No matter how much Woojin may enjoy being manhandled like that, the sudden display of affection makes him a bit worried.
"Boyfriend cuddles," Gunwoo mumbles into his hair. "We need to keep the ruse up."
"Mm, right," Woojin mumbles back, his face flush against Gunwoo's neck. He's wearing the aftershave Woojin got him for his birthday, expensive, rich and layered, but not as heavy to completely mask the scent of Gunwoo's skin underneath.
Even though it's all for show, he might as well get comfortable. He throws his legs over Gunwoo's lap, who smiles without opening his eyes, then nuzzles into his neck, scanning the surroundings for any potential trouble.
That's when he spots a young man in a weird, plush silver jacket coming straight for their table.
"Sorry, you're Kim Gunwoo, right?" he asks as Woojin jumps to his feet.
"No, he's not!" Woojin gets into his face, ignoring the tugs to his sleeve. "And what is it to you? Who are you, huh?"
"No, you got it all wrong. We've met before –"
Woojin glances back, but his friend shakes his head and shrugs. "Come on, let's go Gu-" He stops himself at the last second. "Let's go," he says, grabbing Gunwoo's hand.
"No, wait! Fuck!" the boy yells after them.
They head toward the old bathroom, rarely used because of its missing doors and light bulbs. Its lone occupant flinches as they walk in, then leaves without bothering to dry his hands, followed by Woojin's best glare.
"What was that all about?" Gunwoo asks, shoving his hands into his hoodie and leaning back against the wall.
"I don't know, but he knows your name." Woojin keeps glancing between him and the entrance. "That means he can hurt you."
"I don't think people that want to hurt me would bother with introductions."
"Oh, but he could've taken pictures of you being here and used it for blackmail."
Gunwoo shrugs, dark silhouette against pale green tiles. "I wouldn't care."
"What?" Woojin snaps to him, stepping closer. Thoughts start speeding through his head, pulling him in wild directions. He shakes his head, chasing them away. "That's… good. But we don't need to deal with that right now, on top of everything else."
"Are you speaking as my coach?" Gunwoo asks, tilting his head to the side.
"No, as your boyfriend." It was meant as a joke, but the words fill the room with tension. "How much did you drink?" Woojin asks to break the silence. He opens the tap and puts his uninjured hand under it. The water is freezing cold.
"Not that much." Gunwoo's expression doesn't change but his eyes light up as Woojin comes up to him and runs his hand over his neck, then touches his forehead.
"You're hot. Burning up, I mean."
"That's from earlier. I felt like I was suffocating–"
"Too many people?" Woojin suggests and Gunwoo nods, closing his eyes as the hand brushes over his forehead, soothing his heated skin.
"Better now?"
"Much better," Gunwoo answers in a weird, low voice.
Woojin swallows hard. "Maybe we should get out of here…" he says, wiping his hand into his jacket.
"We should talk to Mr. Moon first."
"Shit. Okay, let's go back."
Woojin immediately regrets the decision.
"Woojin-a?" A handsome man with a lot of piercings calls out to them as soon as they step out. "I knew it was you!"
He stops chewing gum for a second to flash them a bright smile. "Why are you sneaking in here like some rat instead of saying hello?"
"Sorry, Juwon. I'm in the middle of something," Woojin says quickly, trying to pull Gunwoo back toward the tables. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Who's this?" Gunwoo asks, yanking his hoodie out from Woojin's grip.
"Who's that?" Juwon smirks as he turns to Woojin. "Your new boyfriend? Why don't you introduce us?"
"Some other time, okay?"
He grabs Gunwoo's hand and this time he actually starts walking with him. It almost works.
"Tsk. You prick! This is how you treat your favourite ex?" Juwon's voice echoes after them.
There's a delayed reaction as Gunwoo stops after a few seconds and Woojin gets yanked back, as if chained to a rock. He freezes, swallowing dryly, unable to look at him. As he thinks of what to say, Gunwoo squeezes his hand and starts moving again. They reach their table in silence.
Woojin's throat feels tight as he sits down, but Gunwoo seems utterly occupied by arranging the drinks on the table by their colour. After he's done he leans back, looking over them like some minor deity admiring the daily offerings, then grabs a bright pink drink with a slice of lime stuck on the rim. He winces after taking a sip and switches to a sunset-coloured one in a large martini glass.
"You shouldn't drink anything that has been left unattended," Woojin says, hating that he sounds like he's scolding him.
"We're all gonna die from something, right?" Gunwoo keeps his eyes on him as he reaches for something in a shade cartoons usually use to indicate toxic waste. "I want to try them all. Who knows if we'll be here tomorrow."
Fear prickles Woojin's neck. "Why? Did something happen?" he asks, inching closer. "Is this about Baek Jeong?"
"Mhm," Gunwoo mumbles as he starts sucking what looks like a Bloody Mary through a large straw. "I don't want to talk about it right now." He starts spinning a tiny paper umbrella between his fingers, then suddenly asks, "Was that guy telling the truth? Is he your ex?"
He shoots a glance Woojin's way, who so wishes he could down a drink now right now - or two, or ten… Or better yet, run out the door without turning back. Or lie.
In the end, he does none of those things. "Yes," he says with a nod.
Gunwoo looks away, biting his lip. Whatever is going on inside his friend's head, Woojin wishes he'd say out loud, as the silence becomes unbearable…
"Kim Gunwoo." The silver jacket guy raises his hands in surrender as soon as they turn to him. "Hong Woojin? Mr. Moon wants to see you," he adds quickly.
"Let's go," Gunwoo says, standing up. He waits for Woojin to join him and then grabs his hand.
Woojin swallows a gasp. "What are you doing?"
"Walking with my boyfriend through a gay club," Gunwoo says, threading their fingers together before glancing back at him. "We should still blend in, right?"
They stop in front of a door before he has a chance to answer.
"We're here," the guy says and proceeds to knock three times. After a moment the door crack and Mr. Moon appears, slightly wild-eyed and dishevelled.
"Oppa?" comes a soft voice from inside the room.
"Give me a sec, I'll be right there!"
"Is your cat okay?" Woojin asks, trying to peek in.
"You…" Mr. Moon narrows his eyes and points at him. "Actually, I need to talk to Gunwoo alone. Wait here, make sure no one interrupts us."
He opens the door enough to let the guys in, then shuts them in Woojin's face.
"Another resentful lover?" Juwon walks over slowly, a slight smile playing on his lips. His hair is buzzed short and dyed to resemble leopard's spots. His crop tops got shorter by another couple inches since they last saw each other.
As he notices him staring, he turns to each side, then sticks his tongue out. The piercing is new, too. "You like?"
"You look good," Woojin answers honestly.
"I know." Juwon's smile drops suddenly. "What the hell happened? It's like you suddenly dropped from the face of the Earth. We were worried…"
"I'm sorry. I got involved in something and–"
Junwo frowns as his gaze drops to his bandaged hand. "Are you in trouble? More than usual?" He lifts his hand as if to touch him, but at that moment large, muscular hand hooks around Woojin's chest.
Gunwoo rests his chin on Woojin's shoulder, staring at Juwon, who grins in response.
"Easy, it's too early to play rough. Besides, you look cute together," he adds with a wink. "Don't be a stranger!" He gives Woojin's sneaker a kick.
After his silhouette disappears behind the corner, neither of them tries to pull away from the warm hug.
"What did he say? Can you tell me?" Woojin asks after a moment.
"He said he'd cut your hand off." Gunwoo lifts his head and tightens his arms around him. "If he does anything to you, I'll have to kill him."
Woojin frowns and tries to turn, but the vice grip is keeping him in place. "What?"
"I'll kill him, hyung, so that he can't hurt you or mum ever again."
"Mr. Moon said that?!"
"Oh."
The grip loosens and Woojin is finally able to turn and look at him. "He said we shouldn't wait for him. I think he tested the drug on himself. Don't worry, he's in good hands–"
"Why didn't you tell me you talked to Baek Jeong?" Woojin asks calmly and quietly, even though he feels like screaming.
Without a word, Gunwoo walks past him.
Woojin takes a second to collect himself before he rushes after him. "Don't do anything stupid," he pleads as he catches up to him on the dance floor. "Not without me."
Maybe it's the words, or the desperate tugging at his sleeve, but Gunwoo finally stops and turns. His eyes were welling up already, and his sudden smile pushes the tears out. Something flashes across his face before he pulls Woojin into another hug.
"Okay. Only stupid things with you," he murmurs into his jacket.
"That's not… That's right." Woojin lets his fingers brush against the back of his neck and feels as Gunwoo's breath hitches. It lasts only a moment though - short enough to not let himself get carried away. "We should go, people are staring."
The people is just Juwon, for now, looking like he's having the time of his life. He gasps dramatically when Woojin flips him off.
"Told you I don't care." Gunwoo leans back to look at him. He blinks, pulls his hood up and goes for an even tighter hug, throwing his arms over Woojin's shoulder like they haven't seen each other for months. "Good now?" he asks, making them both sway from side to side, arrhythmical to the bouncy music.
"Gunwoo? What are we doing now?"
"Dancing. Like boyfriends would."
"We're not boyfriends."
"Why not?"
Woojin's heart stops. Being pressed flush against him, he can hear Gunwoo having a hard time swallowing before he mumbles another question out.
"Is that why you didn't tell me? So I won't get disappointed?"
Even though his body still is moving over the club's dance floor, left-right, left-right, Woojin himself is somewhere far away while he's processing the words.
Raising his eyes to the rafters he huffs wordlessly, shaking his head in disbelief before returning Gunwoo's embrace with the same force, holding onto him like the world is about to end.
Because tomorrow, it may.
"You're drunk," he says after a moment. It's a realization more than a question.
Gunwoo leans back to look at him. "Slightly more drunk than before," he says and then, with the stupid hood pulled tight around his face, puts his lips on Woojin's.
His fingers flutter on the back of Woojin's neck, mimicking his earlier caress. The shiver is still making its way down his spine as the kiss ends.
Gunwoo takes two small steps back and bows. "Forgive me, hyung."
More confused than ever before in his life, Woojin still knows what to do, as he fists his hands into his hoodie and pulls him up for round two. Gunwoo's soft mouth opens for him, pliant and eager.
The kiss stops only because Woojin gets startled by his own involuntary groan. "Let's get out of here," he says.
Gunwoo nods, breathing hard through parted lips, his face as red as if he was crying for hours.
Over his shoulder, Woojin notices Juwon clapping for them. He catches his gaze and tips his head toward the guy in the silver jacket. Juwon nods, then turns to assess his target. He downs his drink and starts making his way toward him.
Even if he's one of Mr. Moon's guys, it's better to keep an eye on him.
"Are we going home or sleeping in the car?" Gunwoo asks as they start climbing the stairs, weaving around different sets of people.
"Mm, we should sleep..." Woojin glances back. "Unless we can find something else boyfriends could do for a few hours…"
Small crinkles appear in the corners of Gunwoo's eyes as he smiles, blush colouring his cheeks and nose again.
After a moment Woojin feels his warm hand slipping into his. He squeezes it tightly as they step outside.
Words can wait until morning.