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Gunwoo isn't what you'd call a subtle guy. He isn't loud by any definition, but the quiet kindness and warmth he spreads anywhere he goes speaks for itself louder than any bold announcement. He's attentive and gentle, wears his heart on his sleeves and he cries just as easily as he laughs, and Woojin loves him for it. Woojin has adored Gunwoo since the first day they met, even after he'd beaten him in the ring—especially after he beat him in the ring, if Woojin is honest with himself. So seeing Gunwoo tear up when he walked into their high security hotel room with a bandaged hand wasn't entirely surprising to Woojin. It didn't matter how much reassurance Woojin gave him, Gunwoo was inconsolable.
Something else about Gunwoo, when he set his minds to something there was no changing his it. He'd taken one look at Woojin's injured hand and decided to take full responsibility for his wound care. Reminders were set on both their phones for the antibiotics, gauze and tape and antiseptics had been stocked up in the bathroom enough to treat an army and for the first forty eight hours he would check Woojin's temperature frequently to make sure an infection wasn't spreading.
It was all a little over the top, Woojin felt silly being fussed over when he'd had worse at the hand of his father when he was much younger and would rarely seek medical treatment, but he didn't have the heart to refuse Gunwoo's care. Not when he had that sad, abashed look on his face, refusing to meet Woojin's eyes and hiding his unshed tears, probably so he wouldn't burden him.
Every night he would grab the supplies and sit on the floor at Woojin's feet, taking the old bandage off, cleaning around the stitches and apologizing at every hiss and wince that Woojin let out. He'd be extra gentle, diligently applying the cream before wrapping it with the fresh gauze. It was fine. Woojin couldn't complain, it wasn't anything he wouldn't do for Gunwoo if their roles were reversed. And then, when it was all done Gunwoo would look up at him with red-rimmed glassy eyes, asking if the bandage was too tight (it never was), and Woojin would feel a blazing heat sweeping behind his ribs.
He couldn't find a name for the feeling. Couldn't find a reason, other than wanting to bring carnage to whoever put that look on Gunwoo's face. It was conflicting. Woojin wanted payback but not for himself. Not for his own torn up palm that may or may not ever gain full mobility. He wanted it for Gunwoo, so he would sleep easier knowing the people who hurt him would never hurt anyone ever again.
And then there was the issue of showering. It wasn't even the first time they had to do this. After getting stabbed five years ago, Gunwoo had to help him to the bathroom and help him bathe for a couple of weeks after getting discharged from the hospital. This time around, Woojin protested harder. He was fine. He could bathe with one had, the other would be wrapped in a plastic bag and held up and away from the spray of water.
He caved after dropping the shampoo bottle for the fifth time and failing to squeeze the product into his good palm to wash his hair.
"I just need you to pour it into my hand, I can handle the rest."
"Why are you so stubborn, hyung. I'll wash your hair, it'll be done faster and saves water. Don't you care about the planet?" Gunwoo could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. So Woojin sighed, swallowed his pride and held the bathroom door open and urged the younger to hurry inside before the bathroom got cold.
Gunwoo ended up not just washing his hair, but his back and legs because you shouldn't move around too much, hyung, you could rip your stitches.
Given enough time to gather his thoughts, preferably when he's not standing butt naked in front of his best friend, Woojin could probably find the fault in Gunwoo's logic but as it was right now he just shook his head and let Gunwoo have it his way.
Woojin wasn't embarrassed, they'd been sharing a bedroom for years and showered at the gym together all the time. And yet the simple of act of having his hair washed by Gunwoo made Woojin's stomach flutter like a teenage boy with a crush. They joked, laughed and washed up and probably used more water than Woojin would have on his own one-handed, and things were never awkward. Later Gunwoo would change his bandages and order room service with an extra fork for Woojin to eat with more easily and they'd fell asleep watching old boxing videos on Woojin's phone.
When Woojin ripped a couple of stitches while fighting off that gang with Gwangmu, Gunwoo looked like someone had ripped out a piece of his heart right out of chest. He wouldn't stop fidgeting and shaking his legs until they went back to the hospital and got them treated again.
"This is all my fault," Gunwoo muttered in the backseat on their way back to the hotel.
"Gunwoo-yah, will you stop? none of this is your fault, okay?"
"You got hurt fighting my battles, again! How is it not my fault?"
Woojin twisted on his seat to face his best friend. "Because you didn't pick this battle. Those bastards did. And we're family, so your battle is my battle."
"Hyung…"
"No. This is final. Now, what are we having for dinner? I'm starving."
Two weeks flew by fast and despite everyone's best efforts the IKFC and its founder's identity remained a mystery. Worst of all, Minbeom was now in the hospital fighting for his life. in the midst of it all, Gunwoo still changed Woojin's bandages every night and put extra food in Woojin's plate to eat. And then it was finally time to get his stitches out.
"One last bandage change and you're free," Woojin joked the night before he was going to have his stitches removed. His palm didn't even need bandages anymore, just some tape to keep the wound clean and prevent the stitches from getting caught in his clothes and what not, but Gunwoo still insisted on being the one to do it.
"Free?" Gunwoo looked up, his head tilting in confusion.
Woojin shrugged. "Well, Yeah. One last chore for you to worry about."
Gunwoo's brows furrowed. "Taking care of you isn't a chore, hyung."
Clenching his jaw, Woojin tried to get a hold of his fluttering heart. How could Gunwoo just say stuff like that with a serious face? This kid…
"Still!" he protested. "I can't wait to not have these itchy stitches anymore," he said, which wasn't a lie. But deep down, Woojin was going to miss Gunwoo holding his hand like it was something precious.
Gunwoo nodded, going back to diligently applying the cream using a q-tip.
***
To Woojin's surprise, the touches didn't stop after the removal of the stitches. As soon as they were out Gunwoo showed up with a new cream—it's for the scar, hyung!. A new routine was established before Woojin could find it in himself to protest, even if he wanted to. It involved a series of massages.
"Is this really necessary?" Woojin feigned annoyance as Gunwoo's fingers worked around the welted scars. "You didn't care half this much about the scar on your face."
"The scar on my face," Gunwoo began without a hitch in his ministrations. "had no effect on my mobility."
"Oh thank god, I thought you were trying to get rid of it for cosmetic reasons," Woojin joked because that was the only response he could come up with that wouldn't result in him spilling his guts in front of Gunwoo. "'Cuz you know, chicks dig the scars."
Gunwoo rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, hyung, your abdomen scars will do the trick."
They'd done this song and dance a hundred times at this point. Joking about their scars attracting women, playful jabs about growing bigger muscles, throwing around teasing comments every time one of them dressed up a little fancier than usual. They'd joke and mess around the topic even though in the five years they'd known each other and lived together neither had ever so much as attempted to meet someone. Their codependence was an open secret; they shared a bedroom despite having the extra room. They did everything together and probably hadn't been apart for more than a couple of hours at a time in ages.
So it was safe to say Gunwoo knew that Woojin didn't actually care about having scars to show off. He knew that Woojin would want to be able to fight, to be able to protect his family. Gunwoo also knew that instead of taking the longer route to make sure he'd gain back proper mobility in his hand, Woojin would rather literally punch his way through and ignore the pain that would come with it.
Apparently Gunwoo had decided he wasn't going to let him do that. Every chance they got; when they were sitting in the back of Kangyong's car, waiting at the police station, or sitting alone in their hotel room, Gunwoo would pull Woojin's hand into his lap and begin the careful routine of working the tissue around the scars in firm but careful press of his fingers.
"Massaging around the scars increases blood flow so the scar tissues heal faster and don't become stiff overtime." Gunwoo had explained once but frankly Woojin didn't care about the science behind it. He'd enjoy Gunwoo holding his hand for as long as it lasted and wouldn't breathe a word to complain.
"Does it hurt?" Gunwoo asked one time out of the blue while his fingers were working around the larger scar.
Woojin blinked in a daze. "What?"
"This." He looked down at their joint hands. "Does it hurt?"
Woojin shook his head. "No, not really. The skin is actually numb so I don't feel anything."
"Oh…" Gunwoo looked upset upon learning this.
"It's fine. I prefer numb over the annoying itchy phase."
Gunwoo gave him a knowing look. "Tell me about it…"
And they proceeded to talk about their scars like two old veterans exchanging war stories while Gunwoo's fingers worked their magic on Woojin's palm.
***
The first night back home was rough. The new locks and windows did little to ease their minds as they lay in bed in the dark. Seeing Doyoung hyung again after so many years was bittersweet, especially now that Woojin understood a fraction of the weight he must've been carrying alone all these years. Still, it was good to have him in their corner.
At night, sleep evaded Woojin. The thought of mom being held captive somewhere foreign and completely out of reach was driving him insane. Woojin didn't know how he was going to survive knowing she was captured because of him. Because he wasn't strong enough to protect her. What was Woojin's worth if he couldn't even protect his family?
"Hyung?" Gunwoo called in a hushed voice, as if there was there was a chance Woojin would be asleep.
"Hm?"
Woojin heard the shuffle in the top bunk before Gunwoo's head popped over the side of the bed.
"I can practically hear you thinking useless thoughts," Gunwoo said with a frown.
Woojin would've been offended, except Gunwoo knew him like the back of his hand and he was right. No matter how much he thought about it, it wasn't going to change what had already happened.
"Sorry," he whispered lowly, turning his face away from Gunwoo. He didn't want to cry anymore but every time he looked at his best friend he couldn't help the crushing feeling on his chest that made his eyes tear up.
Gunwoo's head disappeared before he began descending the ladder. Woojin wanted to curl away, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to face Gunwoo's worried face again. He didn't deserve it, not after he failed him so miserably.
The younger perched up on the edge of his bed, a hand came to rest on Woojin's ankle.
"Hyung, talk to me."
Woojin shook his head, not trusting his voice to speak even if he had anything to say other than another useless apology.
Gunwoo let out a sigh and reached his hand higher until he could grab Woojin's lying flat on his sternum. He began rubbing circles in Woojin's palms as if it was the most natural thing.
"Hyung…" Gunwoo said in a plea, his head tilted and eyes going glassy with tears.
Woojin pulled his hand away abruptly, a little harsher than he intended, but he couldn't bear the weight of Gunwoo's unshaken devotion to him anymore.
Hot tears began streaming down his face for what feels like the hundredth time that, guilt and anger bubbling inside him like molten tar.
"Why did she go with him?" Woojin said through gritted teeth. "I should've… No, I would have fought till the end! You think I care about my hand? I would've torn both my arms before letting that scum touch her! I would've—"
"Hyung!" Gunwoo snaps, loud enough for his voice to echo through the walls. Loud enough for Woojin to hear through the mayhem of his brain. "That's exactly why she did it. Don't you see?"
"But why?" Woojin sobs, pressing his palms against his throbbing temples.
"Because she loves you!" The words hit Woojin like a punch in the ribs, knocking him out cold. "Because she didn't want you to die," Gunwoo said, his breathing quickening. "And you would have died. You were outnumbered and outmatched, Kang Inbeom would've killed you and still taken her hostage. You think she would've wanted that?"
Deep down, way beneath all the guilt and self-loathing Woojin had buried himself in, he knew that Gunwoo was right. Kang Inbeom would've killed him without a second thought and taken mom. Who knows what he'd do to Taeyeong?
"Hyung," Gunwoo rasped, reaching to hold Woojin's hand again. "I can't lose you."
Woojin chanced a look at Gunwoo's face and found nothing but pain and distraught.
"You know," Gunwoo sniffled before continuing. "I still get nightmares where you…" Die. "Sometimes I find you too late in Mr. Choi's house and you burn inside the house. Sometimes you bleed out in my arms at the yard. Sometimes I can't lift your lifeless body off the floor to carry you to safety. But the worst one…. The worst one is where you die at the hospital and I'm standing over your pale corpse in the morgue and you open your eyes and stare at me with cold dead eyes."
Woojin couldn't breathe. He didn't know Gunwoo was still so affected by the events of that day. He'd never given much thought about how Gunwoo must've felt finding him like that, not after making a full recovery.
"I thought I lost you again when you and Gwangmu sonbae went to that old factory to fight Baekjeong's men on your own. On my way there I kept praying I won't be too late this time, and then I got there and saw you half conscious, being dragged away by those men… I… let's just say the sight added variety to my nightmares," Gunwoo chuckled darkly.
Woojin blinked his fresh tears away and tried to get a hold of himself, for Gunwoo's sake.
"Gunwoo-yah… I'm sorry. I never considered…"
Gunwoo shook his head, squeezing Woojin's hand in his. "Hyung, that's not… You have nothing to apologize for. It wasn't your fault, none of it," he sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his palm. "I'm only telling you so you understand that… I…" Gunwoo's voice trembled, fresh tears streaming down his face.
Woojin pushed himself up despite the physical and mental exhaustion and pulled the younger to his chest. The moment Gunwoo's chin reached his shoulder the dam broke and Gunwoo began shaking with strangled sobs that he tried to muffle against Woojin's shoulder.
"Hush… It's okay, Gunwoo-yah. I'm right here," he whispered into Gunwoo's ear as he rubbed soothing circles on his back with his free hand. Gunwoo hadn't let go of his scarred hand, holding onto it for dear life. Like it was something holy.
"Don't you get it, Hyung?" said Gunwoo through choked up sobs. "I love you."
The confession should have come as more of a surprise, but instead, it felt a missing piece finally clicking into place. The fog had finally cleared and Woojin could see the truth bright as day; they were in love. Had been for years.
Woojin pulled Gunwoo closer to his chest and rested his cheek on the younger boy's head. "I know… I love you too."
Gunwoo pulled back, looking alarmed and startled by that statement.
"If…If you do, then why do you treat your own life like it's worthless?" he stuttered, holding Woojin by the shoulders.
Finally having both hands free, Woojin reached up to cup Gunwoo's cheeks, thumbs wiping at his fresh tears. "I'm sorry, I know I've been thoughtless."
It was short and simple, and it was exactly what Gunwoo needed to hear. His shoulders loosened and frown began to melt away from his beautiful face. And to make matters worse, he cupped a hand over Woojin's and turned his face and kissed Woojin's palm right over the scar in the middle.
Gunwoo's lips were hot and damp with tears, and so so soft. His lashes were so long and thick as they fluttered against his blotchy cheeks. Woojin's heart began tearing itself apart and stitching itself back together at the same time.
"I'm sorry too, hyung. I know you're having a hard time. I just don't want you to carry all of the burden on your own."
Woojin swallowed, suddenly hit with the fact that they were sitting so close he could count Gunwoo's lashes.
"Gu..Gunwoo…"
Gunwoo's eyes flickered between Woojin's eyes and lips and he couldn't have missed it even someone broke down the door.
"Hyung…"
Someone grabbed the other by the back of the neck and someone's fingers ended up carded into the other's hair. One breath they were staring at each other like it was the last thing they were going to see and the next they were panting against each other's lips, drinking the love and grief that was permeating through every cell in their bodies.
Gunwoo pushed him back down, his body anchoring Woojin's to the mattress. Woojin's arms and legs wrapped themselves around him, a wordless plea stay there, grounding and warm on top of him, right where he belonged. It wasn't lust that drove them to nip at each other's bruised lips, nor was it greed that forced them to lick into the other's mouth seeking the taste of every inch. It was love and loss and something uglier, and infinitely more beautiful.
When Gunwoo pushed Woojin's shirt up to his armpits and began kissing the scars on his abdomen, it was a prayer at its purest form. It was a promise, written in blood when Woojin's nails raked at Gunwoo's shoulder blades down to his flanks. There was no beginning and no end, all lines blurred, their hushed voices blending into a soft lullaby of apologies, promises and declarations. They kissed and kissed and kissed until they were breathless, their hearts threatening to burst with the overload.
A few minutes later, when their ragged breaths began catching up, tented sweatpants long forgotten in favor of chasing something more vibrant and permanent, they lay side by side with heavy lids.
"You're not allowed to die, hyung," Gunwoo panted. "Not for me—for our family, and not ever."
It would've been hypocritical for Woojin to call him melodramatic seeing as that was exactly what he was prepared to do just a couple of weeks ago.
"I mean, I've always wanted to sell my soul to a crossroad demon in exchange for immortality." When in doubt, go for humor, that was Woojin's motto.
"Hyung, I'm serious!"
Woojin heaved a sigh. "Fine. On one condition."
"What?" Gunwoo asked, head tilted towards Woojin.
"No more martyring yourself and going up against Baekjeong on your own. We're supposed to stay together."
Woojin could see the hesitation in Gunwoo's eyes. Asking him not to sacrifice himself for his family was like asking a dog to stop being loyal.
"Gunwoo-yah, I'm not asking you not to fight. I'm asking you to let me fight by your side," he said, reaching out to lace their fingers together. "You know why?"
"Why?"
"Because we're the strongest when we're together." The invincible marine duo. Of course.
Gunwoo's lip trembled, his jaw clenched in an effort to stifle a cry. He nodded.
Woojin rolled onto his side, pulling Gunwoo to face him, their foreheads pressed together.
"Ack!"
Gunwoo squeezed his eyes shut before opening them, his gaze sharp and clear as he held Woojin's.
"Ack."