Chapter Text
Dohoon was not really sure how it happened or why it happened. One moment, he and his husband were standing beneath the glittering chandeliers of a luxurious hotel ballroom, dressed in tailored suits and exchanging polite smiles with powerful business figures. The annual gathering was crowded with influential families, executives, and conglomerate representatives, their voices blending into a low hum. Conversations about multi-million dollar investments and strategic partnerships filled every single corner of the room, creating an atmosphere thick with wealth and ambition.
As the son of one of the country's largest corporations, events like these were completely normal for Dohoon. He spent the entire evening introducing himself to older executives, discussing future collaborations, and strengthening connections that would benefit his family's company.
Junghwan stayed right by his side for most of the event. Like always, Junghwan was quiet, barely uttering a word unless he absolutely had to. Like always, Junghwan looked incredibly distant, his eyes tracking the crowd with an unreadable expression. And like always, Dohoon still found himself stealing secret glances at him whenever he could catch a brief second of freedom.
For years, that small luxury was enough for him. Seeing Junghwan nearby was enough. Watching him from across a crowded room, listening to his deep voice during short, formal conversations, it all fueled the quiet hope inside him. Dohoon had spent almost his entire life loving Shin Junghwan, even when that love was never returned.
The memory felt completely blurry now. Everything after the high-end party became a confusing, terrifying mess. There was a sudden gap in his mind, a blank space that he couldn't fill no matter how hard he tried.
One second, he was holding a crystal champagne glass while discussing business matters with an investor. The next, he was standing inside the dark bedroom he shared with Junghwan in their luxurious penthouse.
His chest burned with a fierce, agonizing heat. His knees nearly gave out beneath him, trembling violently as a horrible warmth spread quickly across his crisp white shirt. Dohoon looked down, his breath catching in his throat.
Blood. There was so much blood.
His hand immediately pressed against the fresh wound in his chest, but the effort was entirely useless. Crimson continued to spill rapidly between his frantic fingers, staining his skin.
His breathing turned ragged and uneven, his vision shaking as panic set in. Confused and struggling to understand what was happening, he slowly turned his head toward the center of the room.
Then he saw Junghwan standing several feet away… holding a gun.
The terrifying sight alone nearly stopped Dohoon's heart before the physical injury could finish the job. Junghwan's hands were trembling violently, his knuckles turning white. His face was entirely pale, and his eyes were completely filled with shock, fear, and a deep, agonizing regret. The gun suddenly slipped from his shaking fingers and hit the hardwood floor with a loud, echoing clatter.
For a brief, agonizing second, neither of them moved. Then Junghwan rushed forward, his professional facade completely shattering.
“J-Junghwan hyung?”
The name never actually left Dohoon's lips, dying in his throat as his physical strength disappeared too quickly. Junghwan caught him before he could collapse completely onto the floor. The man who had spent years keeping his distance, the husband who refused to touch him, was suddenly holding him tightly against his chest, supporting his entire weight and cradling him in his arms.
“I—”
Junghwan's voice cracked completely, a broken, desperate hiccup escaping him as he squeezed Dohoon closer.
“I don't want to die yet, Dohoon.”
Dohoon's brows furrowed weakly, his mind spinning.
What?
Junghwan tightened his desperate hold on him, his entire body shaking as tears gathered in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
“As much as I value us, I don't want to die yet. Especially not in your hands.”
The words made absolutely no sense to him. Dohoon stared up at him, his ears ringing loudly as his thoughts felt incredibly slow and heavy from the rapid blood loss.
What was Junghwan talking about?
Dying in his hands?
Why would Junghwan ever think something so terrible about him?
“I knew your plan of killing me, Dohoon.” Junghwan's voice became much quieter, more unstable with every passing second.
What the hell?!
Dohoon's eyes widened slightly, a pang of emotional pain hitting him.
No. No, that was completely impossible.
“You've already disposed of my family,” Junghwan whispered, his words feeling like a sharp knife digging deeper into Dohoon's bleeding chest. “I won't... This is just me returning everything you’ve done. Call it revenge if you like.”
Revenge.
The heavy word echoed inside Dohoon's fading mind. He wanted to speak so badly. He desperately wanted to tell Junghwan that he was completely wrong, that someone had lied to him, that someone had cruelly manipulated him into pulling that trigger. Dohoon had never killed anyone in his life. Never. He never ordered anyone's downfall, never touched Junghwan's family, and never harmed a single person belonging to him.
Why would he?
Why would he ever do something like that to the person he cherished most?
Junghwan was the person he loved most in the world. Even now, even after being shot, even after hearing those horrible accusations, Dohoon still could not stop loving him. That was the most pathetic part of it all.
Their marriage was purely business from the very beginning, and everyone in their circle knew that. The Shin family business relied heavily on the financial support of Dohoon's family corporation. When both families proposed a marriage alliance, neither son had much of a choice but to accept. The arrangement benefited both sides by strengthening business ties, protecting investments, and securing their social power. Dohoon understood all of that.
But while the marriage was nothing but business for everyone else, it was never business for him. Because he genuinely loved Junghwan. He loved him long before the wedding, he loved him during the ceremony, and he continued loving him through every cold glance and every distant interaction afterward. Junghwan never offered him a shred of affection, never sought out his company, and never looked at him the way a husband should look at his partner. Dohoon accepted it all because being near Junghwan felt much better than losing him entirely.
Years of quiet devotion, years of waiting, and years of hoping, and now Junghwan genuinely believed he was a heartless murderer.
Dohoon's vision became much blurrier, the edges of the room turning dark. His body felt incredibly cold, and the sharp pain in his chest was slowly fading away, replaced by a numbing sensation. He looked up at Junghwan one last time. For once, Junghwan's eyes were entirely focused on him. For once, Junghwan was holding him close, looking completely devastated at the thought of losing him.
It was incredibly cruel… cruel enough to make Dohoon laugh if he still possessed the physical strength to do so. He felt deeply betrayed because the person he trusted most had pulled the trigger, never trusting him enough to just ask for the truth. At the same time, anger burned deep inside him, not toward Junghwan, but toward whoever created this horrible situation. He hated whoever framed him and whoever convinced Junghwan that Dohoon was responsible for the destruction of his family. Because looking up, Junghwan looked just as lost, just as confused, and just as trapped as he was.
The realization made everything hurt even more. Dohoon did not know which pain was worse: Junghwan never loving him back, or Junghwan trusting him so little that he could believe something this terrible.
His chest tightened, his breathing becoming shallower as the room felt farther away. All the sounds became muffled and distant, like he was sinking deep underwater. For years, Dohoon secretly wished for moments like this, to be held by Junghwan, to have Junghwan look at him with such intensity, and to have Junghwan refuse to let him go. He just never imagined it would happen while he was actively dying.
How ironic.
How completely unfair.
He had loved no one but Junghwan… and if Dohoon was given the choice, he’d break the marriage just to see Junghwan smile.
His lips trembled slightly, a weak smile almost forming on his face. Instead of fighting the dark, he simply relaxed his muscles. If this was the last thing he would ever feel, then he wanted to cherish it: the warmth of Junghwan's arms, the trembling grip around his waist, and the desperate expression on his face. Dohoon slowly closed his eyes, letting the darkness swallow everything.
Silence followed, and then, nothing.
There was no pain, no fear, and no thoughts, just pure emptiness.
Until suddenly, a massive gulp of air rushed into his lungs.
Dohoon's eyes snapped open in an instant. He sat upright so quickly that the thick blanket tangled tightly around his legs. His heart pounded violently against his ribs, sounding like a drum, and his breathing came out uneven and frantic. For several seconds, he simply stared straight ahead into the room, completely confused, disoriented, and undeniably alive.
His hands immediately flew to his chest, searching for the wound. There was no hole, no sticky blood, and no lingering pain. Nothing. The shocking realization made him freeze entirely.
Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the lighting, and he looked around the space. The room felt familiar, way too familiar. He noted the wooden desk near the window, the bookshelves overflowing with old textbooks, the music posters hanging on the wall, and the small couch beside the study area. Every single detail sent a massive wave of disbelief crashing through him. This room, he knew this room perfectly. He spent years here, enduring countless sleepless nights, drafting endless corporate plans, and making countless failed attempts to figure out how to make Shin Junghwan fall in love with him.
This was his old university bedroom, his bedroom from eight years ago.
“No way…”
The words escaped his throat in a breathless whisper.
Dohoon immediately reached toward the wooden nightstand. A phone rested beside his bed, the device looking older, much older than the one he owned as an adult. His fingers trembled as he grabbed it, the familiar weight and design matching the phone he used during his sophomore year of college.
His stomach dropped instantly. Slowly, he unlocked the device, the screen lighting up his face. The date appeared in bold numbers right at the top. For several seconds, Dohoon simply stared, his mind refusing to process the information, refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing.
Then the reality of the situation finally settled in. His eyes widened, and his grip tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white. The date was absolutely correct, every number, every detail, everything matched perfectly.
“No fucking way? You’ve got to be kidding me…..”
Eight years. He went back eight years into the past.
He was back eight years before the misunderstandings ruined them, eight years before Junghwan shot him in their penthouse, and eight years before he died in the arms of the man he loved.
The bedroom suddenly felt too quiet. Dohoon stared at the glowing screen, his pulse thundering loudly in his ears as a hundred questions raced through his mind.
How did this happen? Why was he here? Was it real, or was he just dreaming in his final moments?
His gaze slowly drifted toward the full-length mirror across the room. The reflection staring back at him looked much younger, healthier, and completely untouched by years of heartbreak and severe disappointment. This was a version of himself who still believed love alone could solve everything, a version of himself who still spent every waking moment thinking about Shin Junghwan.
Dohoon lowered the phone slowly onto his lap. The memory of his blood-soaked clothes, the loud sound of the gunshot, and the feeling of Junghwan's arms around him remained painfully vivid in his mind. This was definitely not a dream. It could not be, because the grief still felt entirely real, the betrayal still felt real, and the love still felt real.
And now, somehow, impossibly, Dohoon was right back at the very beginning. He was back when everything could still change, back when the tragedy had not yet happened, and back when fate was giving him another chance to fix it all. The phone remained clenched tightly in his hand as he stared at the date again, completely unable to look away.