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There is a throbbing in his lower abdomen.
“Grapes?” Agent Choi’s face looms over him as Kim Soleum looks up, curling unslightly from his conch shell position. Ow. Kim Soleum refrains from curling back up through sheer force of will, staying frozen in place. His neck cranes uncomfortably, and he feels utterly disgusting. Please just leave me be, he begs quietly. His legs are cold and aching.
“Agent Choi,” he manages after a brief pause. The throbbing has turned into a sharp stabbing pain, and he stays hunched over even as he edges closer to the laptop, face closed off. He betrays none of his inner agony as every small movement causes a newer, worser wave of pain directed at his stomach. “…Did you need something?”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Agent Choi share a glance with Agent Bronze. “Ah,” Agent Choi says. “Are you injured?”
“No.”
“…Want to try standing up?”
“…”
“…”
Kim Soleum slows his breathing down, until he’s practically holding his breath. Then he unfurls slowly from his half bent over position. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, he chants to himself as he fights to make his face stay level. He grunts.
Hands hover over him. “Woah,” Agent Choi is saying, eyes wide. “Sit back down, it’s okay, Grapes.” There’s a tinge of regret to his voice. Good, Kim Soleum thinks viciously, then immediately feels bad about it.
Agent Bronze is there beside him, supporting his arm. Kim Soleum feels his face redden in mortification. “I’m fine,” he lies. “It’s just a stomach ache.”
“I’ll make barley tea,” Agent Bronze says.
“I can run to the shop to buy benachio,” Agent Choi volunteers.
Neither of these will help, because Kim Soleum does not have indigestion. It’s a useful assumption though, so he doesn’t bother refuting it, and only briefly glances at where Braun is sitting, hoping for commiseration. He does not receive any. “No, thank you,” he says politely.
“Here.” Agent Choi shoves Braun at him while Agent Bronze takes his arm, helping him over to the couch. It happens so fast Kim Soleum’s stomach only screams mildly in pain as he’s helped to the couch. A blanket is placed over him, worn from use and soft all the same.
“You can lay down,” Agent Bronze offers, and places Braun gently on the armrest. Kim Soleum thinks about stretching out his body from where he’s curled up. The mere thought is so painful he blanches and shakes his head.
“It’s okay,” Kim Soleum blurts out. “Sorry.”
Agent Bronze’s brows furrow as he looks down at Kim Soleum, and hovers for a moment. His mouth opens and closes. Then he nods once, short and sharp, before beelining to the kettle on the other side of the room.
Beside him, Agent Choi taps rapidly on his phone. It’s a beaten up phone, and one of the many spares Kim Soleum is oddly convinced Agent Choi has. Agent Choi seems like the type of person to have multiple phones for different personas.
As he watches Agent Choi, the kettle starts boiling across the room. Agent Choi’s face clears and he looks up, meeting Kim Soleum’s eyes. A smile is directed his way, distracted but earnest all the same. Then he squats.
The opening music of Tayo the Little Bus starts playing.
“Here,” Agent Choi says. “Something to watch while you’re in pain.” From his position in a squat, he holds the phone up at Kim Soleum’s eye level, assuming the position of a phone holder as Tayo the Little Bus season 5 episode 3 starts playing from where Kim Soleum left it off last night.
He doesn’t ask how Agent Choi knows. He does not want to know how Agent Choi knows. Kim Soleum would be more touched if this didn’t imply Agent Choi might be spying on him while Kim Soleum was inside his motel room.
“…”
“…”
The kettle clicks off. Agent Bronze begins making tea.
From where they’re making eye contact, Agent Choi looks at Kim Soleum. Looks at the phone. Then he looks at Kim Soleum’s stomach, where its buried behind the blanket Agent Bronze had covered him in. Horrifyingly, he reaches out a hand and starts gently patting Kim Soleum’s stomach.
What the fuck.
“Sunbae —” he yelps, squirming away. “Ow,” he chokes out through the sudden new wave of pain and pain and pain. “Sunbae,” he continues valiantly. “You don’t have to pet my stomach.” Just saying the words makes him want to bang his head into a wall until he drops unconscious.
Agent Bronze appears like salvation with a heat pack. “Here. For your stomach.”
Kim Soleum nearly weeps with gratitude. “Thank you,” he says, a bit choked up. The heater has been turned on. Agent Choi has frozen in that half outstretched position, still dutifully playing the role of a phone holder while Agent Bronze fusses with a kettle. His hand hovers over Kim Soleum’s stomach, as if if he stays there long enough Kim Soleum will change his mind about his stomach being rubbed.
Agent Bronze nudges Agent Choi. “Agent Choi,” he says severely. “Stop harrassing Agent Grapes.” He produces a cup of steaming barely tea that Kim Soleum unfolds to take, hands curling around to steal some of the warmth for himself.
“Ow,” Agent Choi protests “I’m only doing my job as an attentive sunbae,” he lies shamelessly.
They both ignore him.
The tea is hot and burns his throat on the way down. Kim Soleum is always so very cold, so even the burning is a welcome change from the persistent ice that creeps through his body. It’s definitely an upgrade from where he used to work through the day, half curled over and frozen stiff, desperately clutching his stomach in silent agony.
“Thanks,” he says quietly. Smothered in a blanket with barley tea clasped in his hands, the days of stiff terror over asking for a break seem far away.
Agent Bronze and Agent Choi pause their brief banter to glance at him. Agent Choi says, “If you have any problems, you can always talk to us, yeah, Grapes-ie?” Agent Bronze nods in agreement.
“Yeah.” His voice wavers. He coughs once, and tries again. “Yeah, I know,” Kim Soleum says, knowing he never will.