Chapter Text
Geum Seongje had long since accepted that peace and quiet were luxuries he wasn't meant to have. On good days, someone wanted to fight him. On bad days, someone wanted something from him. Today, unfortunately, it was both. He'd barely managed to escape baekjins office before his phone started vibrating in the pocket of his hoodie. Once. Twice. Then a third time before he'd even crossed the street. Whoever it was clearly had no intention of being ignored. Seongje didn't bother looking at the screen until the fourth vibration. A familiar contact stared back at him.
Better looking brother 🐣
Han su had changed the name months ago after borrowing Seongje's phone, declaring that "twins should have unbreakable bonds," then refusing to change it back. Seongje had considered deleting the contact entirely out of spite, but experience had taught him that Han Su Seongje had considered deleting the contact entirely out of spite, but experience had taught him that Han Su could recite his number from memory anyway. Despite not wanting to, he answered. could recite his number from memory anyway. Despite not wanting to, he answered.
"Good, you're alive."
"I wish it wasn't right now."
"Don't be mad."
There were certain phrases that immediately made Seongje suspicious. Don't be mad, hear me out and hypothetically. Because those words from Han su never meant that anything good will happen. Seongje stepped onto the footpath, weaving through the afternoon crowd without really paying attention. Seoul moved around him with its usual rhythm, office workers clutching takeaway coffees, students in uniforms pretending not to be late, cars going through another red light. None of it required much thought. He knew these streets well enough to walk them with his eyes half closed.
"What did you buy?"
A beat of silence.
"How did you know I bought something?"
"Because if you'd crashed another car, Mum would've called me first."
Han Su sounded offended. "I don't crash cars."
"You've written off three."
"That was years ago."
Seongje smiled despite himself. Han Su had always had a remarkable talent for turning expensive disasters into amusing anecdotes. It was a gift that came with never having to worry about the bill afterwards. "I might've bid on something." Han su continued
"You don't sound confident."
"Well, I didn't think I'd win."
"What was it?"
"A racehorse." Seongje stopped walking. The woman behind him muttered something under her breath as she stepped around him, but he barely heard it. "You live in the middle of Seoul!” seongje half yelled into the phone as if it would somehow make han su unbid on the horse.
"I know."
"Where exactly were you planning on putting it?"
"I was hoping you'd have some ideas." For a moment, all Seongje could do was stare at the traffic in front of him. Then he laughed. Not loudly. Just enough that it slipped out before he could stop it. There was no point asking why. Han Su had grown up in a world where mistakes came with receipts instead of consequences. If he'd wanted a horse, he'd bought a horse. The fact that he regretted it afterwards was, somehow, progress.
Seongje tucked one hand into the pocket of his hoodie as he reached the convenience store on the corner. The automatic doors slid open with a familiar chime, cool air spilling out onto the pavement. He wasn't hungry. He rarely was after meetings with baekjin. Still, he found himself wandering inside anyway, more interested in delaying the conversation than buying anything.
His gaze drifted absentmindedly towards the drinks fridge. Someone else was already standing there. A boy in an Eunjang uniform, one hand balancing a carton of milk while the other held open a novel he'd apparently been reading on the walk over. Dark hair fell across his forehead as he frowned at the page, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd been standing in front of the fridge for a full minute. Seongje had seen him before. Always carrying a book. Always looking vaguely irritated by the existence of everyone around him. Always alone. He'd never once looked up.
"Hyung?" Han Su's voice crackled through the speaker. "You there?" Seongje blinked.
"Hm?"
"You've gone quiet."
"Nothing…"
"You saw something? "
"I didn't."
"You did." Then, from somewhere three hours away, Han Su burst into laughter. Not the polite sort, either. It was loud enough that Seongje instinctively held the phone away from his ear. "I didn't even say anything," Seongje muttered.
"You didn't have to."
Seongje sighed, already regretting answering the phone. "Forget I said anything."
"No chance."
"You've got a crush."
"I don't."
"You've got a tiny little crush."
"I don't."
"You've got the smallest—"
"I'm hanging up."
"You always hang up when I'm right."
The line went dead.
For exactly two seconds. Then the phone buzzed again. Better looking brother 🐣 Seongje stared at the screen with something that landed somewhere between irritation and reluctant amusement. He answered. "What."
"You forgot to tell me the important part."
"There isn't an important part."
"Is he pretty?"
Click. This time Seongje switched the phone on silent before slipping it back into his pocket. Peace lasted approximately thirty seconds. By then he'd reached the drinks fridge, picked up a bottle of water, and realised he'd been standing there long enough to look suspicious. The boy beside him, who was still reading while absentmindedly holding the refrigerator door open also hadn't moved an inch. People walked around him, muttering under their breath. He didn't seem to notice or maybe he simply didn't care. Seongje found himself watching for a second longer than necessary. It wasn't often someone looked that comfortable ignoring the rest of the world. A sharp chime cut through the quiet. The automatic doors slid open again, letting in the late afternoon heat. Someone rushed past, nearly colliding with the boy. The carton of milk slipped from his hand. It hit the floor with a dull thud before rolling neatly to Seongje's feet. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Seongje bent to pick it up. Their eyes met briefly. Dark. Calm. Completely unreadable. "Thanks." The boy took the milk back with a small nod before returning to his book as though the interruption had never happened. That was it.