Chemical (Part One)

[qiguai]

Title: Chemical (Part One)
Pairing: Junhyung/Hyunseung (main), Doojoon/Hyunseung (minor), Doojoon/Yoseob (minor)
Genre: gang!au, angst, drama, romance
Word Count: 5557
Rating: R
Warnings: drug usage and references, sexual situations and references, slight violence, language.
Summary: Doojoon and Hyunseung never meant to start a gang. They never meant to save their neighborhood, never meant to save their friends. They only meant to save each other, and they failed to save anyone.

Something outside the grimy, yellow-tinted windows sounds like birds. Hyunseung swings his legs off the threadbare couch, setting his joint down as carefully as he is capable onto the cinder-block table. Birds. Birds are new. He rests his arms on the dusty sill, his nose pressed almost to the glass as he traces stars and hearts into the slick residue with his finger. A shadow moves across the window, followed by a sharp knock on the front door that sends his mind spinning. He slinks to the door, pulling it open to find a very displeased looking man standing on his doorstep. His small wave hello is blatantly ignored, and Dongwoon promptly turns around to make his way back out of the alley. Hyunseung only chuckles and follows after, sliding his feet into his loosely-tied high-tops and locking the door on the way out- not that it really matters, he owns nothing of value. “What's the occasion?” he asks Dongwoon's back, but receives no answer in return. “Ah, Yoseob out of town again?” “He's making a huge deal down in some town on the coast. Unlike some people, he gives a shit about our group.” Hyunseung laughs softly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans. If only they were capable of coming up with new insults. “Why travel around when I have such an important job here?” He can see Dongwoon's back tense, his hands balling into fists. Once upon a time, this asshole had been his favorite new recruit. It never ceases to amaze Hyunseung how a relationship could change when one was fucking their boss. They walk on, Hyunseung just barely keeping up with Dongwoon's brisk pace, eyes gazing over the dilapidated buildings in their serene quiet. Just two years ago, these streets had been a bustling enter of blood, drugs and death. Their current stillness is all owed to one man, the very man they are on their way to see. “So, how's Gikwang?” he asks, more to himself since it's so rare that Dongwoon actually answers him. “Still a minor pot dealer or has he moved up?” “If you bothered to keep up with us anymore, you'd know that 'minor pot dealers' are all we have now.” And he swears Dongwoon's voice is almost sad, not that Hyunseung cares. “Of course, of course,” he mutters. “In any case, remind me to see him before you walk me home.” Dongwoon makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh, and Hyunseung decides that's enough for today. After all, there would be plenty of opportunities to bug the kid in the future. They arrive at a barren-looking warehouse with boarded-up windows and a heavy, metal door. Two sharp knocks and it swings open from the inside, a small face with a bright smile peaking around the door. “Hyunseung-!” Gikwang manages before Dongwoon cuts him off with a pat on the shoulder. “He's only here on business.” Hyunseung offers the boy a small smile as they pass by, but Gikwang avoids his eyes. Business. What a sick way to put it. The room is dim and suffocating when Hyunseung enters, the latest in Doojoon's chain of cigarettes hanging from his lips as he sits on the edge of the bed. His eyes drift up to Hyunseung, a smirk forming around the cigarette. “Hey.” Hyunseung approaches the bed, his legs knocking against Doojoon's knees. The burning end of his cig almost touches Hyunseung's wifebeater when his hands grip Hyunseung's hips, pulling him closer. Hyunseung places his hands on Doojoon's bare shoulders, shoving him backward, and Doojoon lets him. His eyes half-close when his head hits the bed and Hyunseung climbs on top of him, straddling his hips. Though they both know Yoseob picked out every single object in the room, Doojoon doesn't even protest when Hyunseung plucks the cigarette from his mouth and stubs it out on the blanket next to his face. “Don't leave just yet, I need to talk to you.” Hyunseung pauses at the doorway, resisting the urge to give Doojoon the finger because he knows an order when he hears one; an order Doojoon fully expects him to follow. Doojoon zips his jeans and rises from the bed, again not bothering to put on a shirt. He runs one hand through his messy black hair and shuffles through the things on his dresser with the other in search of his next cigarette. He sighs and gives up. “Yoseob's out of town.” “I know.” Hyunseung bites his lip, his hand lingering on the doorknob. Doojoon's eyes fall on his hand before meeting Hyunseung's gaze. “In a hurry?” Hyunseung looks away furiously, hand falling from the knob. “Just hurry the fuck up and say what you want to say.” He doesn't need to look to know Doojoon is smiling again, and as much as Hyunseung would love to tell himself he's smiling because he's an ass who likes to piss people off, he knows it's not true. Doojoon laughs because he knows Hyunseung, knows what he's thinking before Hyunseung's even aware of it himself. He feels his shoulders relax as Doojoon turns away, fumbling again for a cigarette on his nightstand. “Yoseob is making a deal with another gang, a high-profile supplier. He knew it was going to be a pretty risky deal, but he insisted on going himself. Just in case, we had them send a substitute.” Substitute- a fancy term for a hostage, coined by Doojoon for situations just as the one he described. When they have to send an important member into another gang's territory, they make the other side send one of theirs over as collateral. The substitute couldn't be just any member, though. They had to be someone unnecessary to the daily functioning of the gang, but still important enough to be impossible to sacrifice should something go wrong. This usually constituted a relative of a high-ranking member. In other words, someone fucking useless. “They here already?” Hyunseung glances at the door again, this time out of curiosity instead of anxiety. Doojoon nods, finally having found a cigarette, and takes a deep drag before smiling at Hyunseung. Something in his eyes makes Hyunseung frown. “And what does this have to do with me?” Another slow smile and Hyunseung grinds his teeth. “I'm not fucking taking care of him.” “Like you fucking do anything else to help out around here.” Hyunseung recognizes that look, knows this is where he's supposed to back down and do what Doojoon says. “If I'm so useless, why don't you kick me out? Isn't that what leaders are supposed to do?” he growls, testing the boundaries, loving the way Doojoon's fingers tighten around the cigarette so hard it breaks. The lighted end falls onto the carpet, burns for a second in the fibers before sizzling out. “You're my partner, Hyunseung. I'll never kick you out.” “I'm not your partner. Your partner is out making deals for you like a good little boy.” Doojoon sighs, rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ, we're all fucking partners here!” Hyunseung is half-temped to point out his double entendre, but knows he's pushed as much as he can. He can tell by the way the muscles in Doojoon's arms are tensed, by the lines forming around his dark eyes. This is far enough for today. “What exactly do you want me to do?” Biceps relax, as do the lines around his eyes. Doojoon pulls out yet another cigarette and lights it. “He'll just be escorting you back and forth instead of Dongwoon or Gikwang. This way the both of them can get their work done without being interrupted. I might being calling for you more than usual. It's only for a month. It'll give him something to do.” A flash of a smirk. And you, too. The hair on Hyunseung's neck rises, goosebumps forming on his arms. A soft knock on the door makes him jump, much to Doojoon's amusement. He laughs as he calls out to the person outside. “Come on in!” The figure that enters is a surprise to Hyunseung. With his wild hair-the sides shaved into meticulous designs, full lips and clearly ornamental glasses, he looks nothing like any of the gang members Hyunseung's met before. He gives Hyunseung a quick once-over before turning to Doojoon, not saying a word. “Junhyung, this is Hyunseung, one of our officers.” Juhyung nods once in his direction. “He doesn't live in the warehouse. All I need you to do is walk him here and back whenever I call him.” “I thought this neighborhood was safe now,” he replies, a slight lisp to his voice. Doojoon straightens up slightly, eyeing Junhyung a second, but there is no doubt or suspicion in his words nor his face. “It is, but Hyunseung's an officer, so we use a bit more precaution.” Another nod and it seems Junhyung accepts the excuse. “Pay attention on the way there. I'll need you to get him by yourself tomorrow.” “Got it.” He turns to Hyunseung and Hyunseung wishes he could read something into the look he's getting. “You ready to go?” Junhyung is heading for the door as soon as Hyunseung nods, and Doojoon throws him a quick wave goodbye. On that first walk back, the silence between them is the loudest silence Hyunseung has ever experienced. Junhyung lingers when they arrive at the front door, only leaving once Hyunseung is inside and the lock clicks shut. “This place is fucking disgusting.” Hyunseung rolls his eyes and, for the first time ever, wishes Yoseob would hurry up and come back. Then again, he thinks anything would be better than having this crazy-haired asshole rifling through his things at eight in the fucking morning. Junhyung sinks into Hyunseung's couch, cringing as his weight brings up a cloud of dust. “What the hell are you doing here?” Hyunseung groans, still in his sweatpants. “Doojoon told me to come get you” A small smile. “Though he said I could do it anytime today.” Hyunseung's eyes narrow. “Then why the hell are you here now?” Junhyung only shrugs, gazing out the grimy window. Hyunseung grumbles and walks into the kitchen, hoping like hell he has some food in the fridge. Just three days ago, Junhyung had refused to say more than three words to anyone, including Hyunseung. A nod here, a short reply there when he absolutely needed to. Other than that, Junhyung was a blissfully silent enigma. Then, just yesterday, he suddenly decided to talk, but only around Hyunseung. Not that he was all that talkative now, but his subtle way of expressing himself was far more irritating. When he turns back from the refrigerator, Junhyung is leaning on the counter behind him. All he can muster is a sigh as he shoves Junhyung over, setting an old carton of Chinese take-out on the counter before setting out on a mission to find some clean utensils. Junhyung watches him as he opens the carton and sniffs it before digging in. Hyunseung notices Junhyung shudder slightly when he takes a bite and grins smugly. Then his hand is on Hyunseung's shoulder, fingers hooking under the strap of his wifebeater. “Is this even clean?” His disgusted gaze travels over the shirt in question and Hyunseung is very tempted to dump the remainder of his breakfast all over Junhyung's perfectly bleached t-shirt. “I need to do laundry,” Hyunseung manages to say around his mouthful, jerking his shirt out of Junhyung's grasp. He snorts and crosses his arms. “How fucking hard is it to do laundry? Just throw it in a machine and hit a button!” “Yeah, if I owned a machine,” he mutters, shoving around Junhyung and back into the living room. He drops onto the couch, stabbing his leftovers with his chopsticks. Before he can successfully turn his food into mush, a hand lands on his head, ruffling his shaggy hair. “Your hair's too long.” It might be an apology, but it probably isn't. Whatever it is, it makes Hyunseung relax, leaning back against the cushions and glare dejectedly at what's left of his breakfast. Junhyung grabs his arm, yanking him to his feet. “Get dressed; we'll pick up breakfast on the way.” The next morning Hyunseung is awoken yet again by the now familiar soft knocking on his door. Junhyung stands on his doorstep, perfectly relaxed, next to what appears to be a washing machine- cords and tubes hanging out the back as if it had just been ripped from a wall. “What the fuck is this?” he asks and Junhyung smiles. “A present. I just happened to find it on my way here today.” Hyunseung laughs and they drag it inside together before any of the neighbors see it, because they both know that in their world, “finding” something means someone's door just happened to fall open and it was on the other side. He never does figure out how the hell Junhyung managed to both steal it and get it all the way to his house by himself. Junhyung never questions what happens when Hyunseung disappears into Doojoon's room during his visits. The door closes with a quick wave goodbye as Junhyung jogs down the hall to see what video games Dongwoon and Gikwang are playing, and when Hyunseung walks into the living room later- clothes off-kilter, skin still flushed- he smiles and asks what they're getting for dinner. “What the hell is this place anyway?” Junhyung asks one night as they come back, plopping the bag of take-out on the table. They're one week in and Hyunseung can't explain why they eat most of their meals together now, but they do. “It's a little weird to live so far away from everyone else.” Hyunseung shrugs. “I like it better here. Besides, this is where we started out.” Junhyung raises his eyebrows, urging him on. “Doojoon and I rented this place way before all of this gang shit started.” He pulls out two small chairs, setting them around the table. Something dawns in Junhyung's expression. “I keep forgetting you're Doojoon's partner. Or do you guys call it second-in-command?” “I wouldn't call us that,” Hyunseung chuckles. “I was just there at the beginning. If anyone, Yoseob is Doojoon's partner.” As hard as he tries to stay neutral, something must show on his face as he speaks because now Junhyung's scrutinizing him, eyebrows furrowed. “We never meant to start a gang anyway,” he continues, eyes shifting. He gets to his feet and goes to the fridge. “Do we have anything to drink?” “So how did it start?” Hyunseung drums his fingers on the door of the fridge as he peers inside, using the excuse to hide his face which he knows is quickly turning to panic. “You mean you haven't heard Doojoon's legend?” he laughs, voice a tad nervous but he hopes the echo from the empty fridge hides it. When he turns around, Junhyung still has that look, like he's trying to read his mind and doing a hell of a good job of it. “I haven't. Enlighten me.” Hyunseung swears he sounds angry, but pushes the thought aside. What was there for him to be angry about? “Big, scary Doojoon goes into a big, scary drug cartel leader's headquarters, takes out all of his henchman by himself and snaps his neck with his bare hands!” He chops the air, hoping to get some reaction but Junhyung sits perfectly still, expression unreadable. Another nervous laugh. “Of course, it's not true.” He settles back into his chair, staring at his hands. “We stole a couple of pistols, broke into his house in the middle of the night and Doojoon shot him while he was asleep. And you should've seen how badly his hands were shaking after...” “And where were you?” “Crying in the corner,” he laughs. “And I wish I were joking. We were lucky to get back out of there alive.” “Why'd you do it?” Junhyung's serious expression is unnerving, his calm even more so. Then again, he was in a gang, too. Murder was a normal thing in gangs, right? “They killed Gikwang's parents.” Hyunseung looks at his hands and hopes like hell Junhyung doesn't ask anymore questions, because he's not even sure he should be telling an outsider this much. He breathes a sigh of relief when Junhyung opens the take-out bag and starts serving the food. “Got any napkins?” That night Hyunseung dreams of Doojoon in his bedroom, back when it belonged to both of them. He sits on the bed of the bed, his head in his hands. His fingers rub against his temples desperately and Hyunseung can see he's shaking the instant he walks into the room. His eyes dart up to the bag Hyunseung is holding, widening in recognition. “Did you really...?” Beads of sweat form on his forehead, eyes focused solely on the bag. Hyunseung opens the bag and tosses Doojoon a bottle of water. He catches it only to throw it to the side a second later. “Fuck you.” “Drink it. You're dehydrated.” But Doojoon stares to the side at the wall. He lifts a hand to run it through his greasy hair, but it shakes in an awkward patting motion instead. “Do you want to shower?” Hyunseung offers instead and Doojoon shakes his head. Hyunseung goes to him and puts a hand to his forehead. He still has a slight fever. “A shower will make you feel better.” Another shake of the head and Doojoon pushes his hand away. Before we can save our neighborhood we need to save ourselves, Hyunseung. To be honest, as he watches Doojoon's trembling arms and bleary eyes, he's not sure if it really was such a good idea. The track marks are almost completely healed on Doojoon's arms, evidence to how hard they have both been trying these past few weeks. He feels a sudden weight on his stomach and looks down to find Doojoon's head resting against him. “Hyunseung, can you do me a favor?” Doojoon's voice is a weak whisper. “Sure, what is it?” Doojoon rises, leaning on Hyunseung for support as he stumbles. His hands run along Hyunseung's arms, making him shiver as his fingers touch the small bruises and scars on the insides of his elbows. He has a small smile on his face when he presses his lips against Hyunseung's in a light kiss. Hyunseung's hands freeze, balled in Doojoon's dirty t-shirt, and Doojoon's pulls him forward to lay on the bed beneath him. Abstract concepts like love or romance mean nothing to them. All they have is each other and their will to survive, and this is how they choose to do it. They use each other to dull the pain and distract themselves, to give each other something else to focus on. And that's all they do. Hyunseung rolls to the side, evading as Doojoon tries to pull him into a kiss. He sits up, wincing slightly at the pain in his lower body and hears Doojoon heave a sigh behind him. As he pulls on his jeans he hears the metallic click of the lighter. “You don't always have to be in a rush,” Doojoon says, the cigarette dangling between his lips. Hyunseung snorts, pulling his wifebeater over his head. “What, you want to cuddle?” He looks over his shoulder, smirking. “Yoseob's really turned you into a fag.” Doojoon's eyes narrow. “So how's it going with Junhyung?” Hyunseung shrugs. “You two seem pretty close these days.” Another shrug. “I see him every day and, unlike the people around here, he talks to me. I suppose we would seem close considering everyone else around here hates me.” “No one hates you,” Doojoon says, more to end the conversation than to comfort. He finally gets out of bed and pulls on his own jeans. “If you honestly believe that, you're not a very observant leader. I dare you to mention me to Dongwoon and then tell me he doesn't hate me.” He sees Doojoon's shoulders tense slightly. “They just wish you'd be a little more involved. Dongwoon used to idolize you.” “And now he idolizes Yoseob. I don't see the problem.” Doojoon turns and glares at Hyunseung, extinguishes his cigarette in the ashtray on the dresser. “Then again, maybe he wouldn't hate me so much if you weren't stringing his new idol along.” “I'm not 'stringing along' anyone, Hyunseung.” His tone is warning, a dangerous edge in his voice meant to force Hyunseung to drop the subject, but he laughs. “Then what do you call making promises to one person while fucking another?” Doojoon strides over and puts his hands on Hyunseung's shoulders, his grip tight enough to bruise. “He understands our situation, you know that.” Again, Hyunseung knows he's supposed to shut up now and leave, but it's been so long since they last spoke so much about stuff that really mattered. He's not ready to drop it. “Our 'situation'? Care to explain that one to me?” Hyunseung growls, trying to pull out of Doojoon's grasp but failing. “What, you want to stop?” His voice is low, threatening, and Hyunseung lowers his gaze. He can feel Doojoon smirking, but doesn't want to see it. This is how they always leave it: ambiguous, undefined. Doojoon releases his arms and he leaves the room, not looking at Junhyung as he passes him in the hall. The next morning Hyunseung awakes to bright light streaming through the window in his bedroom. His cheap clock on his nightstand reads two P.M. and for a moment he thinks it must be wrong. He hasn't slept in past eight A.M. in over two weeks now. He checks the front door, but of course no one is there. He leans against the arm of his couch, rubbing his eyes. He shouldn't be surprised. When Doojoon is mad, he doesn't call for him. When Doojoon doesn't call for him, Junhyung doesn't need to come. But now the house is too quiet, too empty. There are dishes piled in the sink and dirty clothes hanging from the chairs at the kitchen table and he can just imagine how Junhyung would bitch if he came and saw this mess. But Junhyung isn't coming, so he grabs the bag Gikwang gave him out of the bedroom and does the only thing he can think to do: get high. Hyunseung isn't sure what time it is when Junhyung steps through the unlocked front door, brows furrowing in worry. He's leaned against the couch, legs stretched out on the floor. Junhyung rolls his eyes when Hyunseung smiles and waves. He walks into the kitchen and sets a large bag on the counter before coming back out to crouch beside Hyunseung. “I'm gone for not even a day and you become like this?”All Hyunseung does is smile, patting Junhyung on the cheek. “How fucking high are you?” “I was bored. Relax,” he says, stretching out his arms. “I thought you weren't coming.” He frowns at Junhyung. “I didn't know what else to do.” “You're that lost without me?” Junhyung asks, a small, amused smile on his lips. Hyunseung laughs and leans his head against the couch. “You wish.” Junhyung stands up and walks back into the kitchen, Hyunseung following him on unsteady legs. He peaks into the large paper bag. “You bring food? I'm starving...” He groans as he looks inside. “The fuck is this? You expect me to eat raw vegetables?” Junhyung pushes him away from the bag. “Idiot, I'm going to cook them.” Hyunseung stares at him in confusion. “Go shower, you smell horrible.” “Shut the fuck up,” he mumbles, but obeys and heads into the bathroom. Something smells amazing when he exits the bathroom. He rounds the corner, watching Junhyung as he moves around the kitchen which hasn't been used in years, besides the occasional reheating of old take-out. Junhyung doesn't notice Hyunseung watching him, his gaze intent upon whatever is in the pan he's holding. “Hyunseung, you remember Yoseob.” The boy is in their kitchen when Hyunseung arrives home, his blond head bent over the stove. Junghyung still doesn't notice as Hyunseung leans against the open entrance of the kitchen. “Nice to meet you... again.” His eyes are round and dark, his smile wide and cheerful. He has dimples and Doojoon is beaming at him from the table. Doojoon's gaze is expectant, waiting for Hyunseung to say something. Junhyung notices him. “Hey, want to try some?” He holds out the spoon. “Hyunseung, come here,” Yoseob says quietly as Doojoon leaves to use the bathroom. Hyunseung hesitates and Yoseob grins. “C'mon, will you try this for me? I could use a second opinion.” A slow nod and Hyunseung steps up beside him. Yoseob holds out a spoonful and he tastes it. “It's good.” He moves to leave, but Yoseob grabs his arm. His eyes widen while Yoseob's glitter strangely, his fingers tightening around Hyunseung's thin wrist. “I know about you and Doojoon.” Yoseob's voice is low and flat, contrasting with his still stunning grin. Hyunseung feels himself flush, a lump forming in his throat. “I know what you two do.” The fingers tighten. “W-we aren't-” Yoseob lips pull back over his teeth, his grin widening as he pulls Hyunseung's wrist closer. “You're nothing.” “Hyunseung?” Junhyung waves a hand in front of Hyunseung's face, but he can't hear him Yoseob is pulling him closer and Hyunseung wants to shout, but can't because his mouth is dry and that damn lump in his throat won't go away. He glances away, in the general direction of the bathroom. “You're really funny, you know that?” Yoseob chuckles. With his free hand he moves his pan to the side, the open flame flickering on the burner. Hyunseung's brain begins to panic and he pulls back, but Yoseob's grip is stronger. “Consider this a warning.” A hand grabs Hyunseung's arm and he yelps. “Hey, what's wrong?” His eyes refocus and Junhyung's in front of him, his arms on his arms, shaking him. He pushes Junhyung's hands away, trying to ignore the concern in his eyes. “Nothing,” he mumbles, and leaves the kitchen rubbing at the scar on his hand. Three and a half weeks in, and Junhyung has taken to cooking more instead of giving in to Hyunseung's habit of always buying take-out. As he steps out of the shower one night, Hyunseung smiles to himself and he wonders if this is what having a wife is like. Junhyung chuckles as Hyunseung sits down next to him on the couch, a freshly rolled join in his hands. “Who said you could use my shit?” Hyunseung growls, reaching to grab it, but Junhyung holds it out of his reach. “You going to tell me what that scar's from?” he asks back, nodding at Hyunseung's hand. He hasn't stopped asking since that night, and Hyunseung wishes Junhyung weren't so observant. “Well, if you aren't,” he continues. “Then do me a favor and sit on the floor.” Hyunseung eyes him suspiciously as he nods to the spot on the floor in front of him. “Just do it. “Why?” He asks, but slides into place anyway. His eyes widen when Junhyung pulls out a pair of scissors. “What the fuck are those for?” “I told you, you need a haircut.” Junhyung ruffles his hair with one hand, grinning as Hyunseung pouts slightly. “Do you even know how to cut hair?” “Of course. I cut my own,” he replies, pointing to the shaven sides of his head. Hyunseung's eyes widen even more. “Is that supposed to comfort me?” Junhyung slaps the back of his head. “Fuck you.” “So... it's supposed to be uneven?” Hyunseung asks again, glaring at Junhyung in the mirror. “Of course, that's the entire point.” His arms are crossed and his smile is confident as he looks at Hyunseung. “You're just saying that because you don't want to admit you fucked up.” Junhyung walks up to stand in front of the mirror next to Hyunseung. He grabs Hyunseung's chin, turning his face from side to side. “Look, it works with your facial structure,” he explains slowly. “Your face is small, so the uneven layers frame it really well. Your eyes are nice, and the long bangs make people focus on them.” Hyunseung feels himself blushing when Junhyung lets go of his face. “You look like a fucking woman. Guys shouldn't be pretty.” “Yeah, well... fuck you,” Hyunseung mumbles, shoving past him into the living room to stretch out on the couch. A few minutes later he hears Junhyung settle down in front of the couch on the floor. “You know,” Junhyung says quietly, his deep voice barely audible. “Yoseob comes back in less than a week.” Hyunseung sighs. “Yeah, I know.” “I'll be leaving soon.” Hyunseung's heart starts to pound at the thought and he rolls over onto his side, away from Junhyung. “Yeah.” “Do you mind... if I'm honest with you?” Hyunseung laughs, but it's nervous and he knows it's obvious it's nervous. “What, you haven't been honest with me?” “I've been trying to respect your privacy, but since I'm leaving I guess I'm willing to risk pissing you off.” “Yeah?” “You deserve better.” Hyunseung's body goes cold. “You shouldn't let him treat you like this.” “I don't know what you're talking about.” He hears movement as Junhyung turns to face him. Hyunseung remains turned around, burying his face in the cushions. “You aren't happy.” “Yes, I am.” A hand grabs Hyunseung's shoulder and rolls him over. Junhyung's eyes are narrow, lines forming on his forehead as he glares down at him. “You're happy being Doojoon's fuck-toy?” Hyunseung shoves him away before rolling back over, covering his face with his arms. “Get the fuck out.” There is only silence at first, until finally he hears shuffling and then the opening and closing of his front door. The next day, Doojoon is in a good mood. Such a good mood, in fact, he bothers to notice Hyunseung's bad mood. “You okay?” he asks when Hyunseung begins to gather up his clothing. Hyunseung nods, but knows Doojoon too well to expect him to let it go. “No, seriously, what's wrong?” “I'm just tired,” he replies weakly, and arms wrap around his chest, hugging him from behind. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Hyunseung's heart skips a beat and he can't believe what he says next. “Could you... do me a favor?” There are no weeks, not even days left. Yoseob is back and Hyunseung knows it before anyone tells him. He knows because once again Junhyung doesn't show up early in the morning. He's aware of every hour that ticks by that morning because he doesn't, can't, sleep. Doojoon hasn't mentioned the favor since Hyunseung brought it up, which means it's a no. Even gang leaders can't do everything. He isn't sure if he wants to get out of bed. Noon comes and goes before he decides to move because his stomach is growling too loud to ignore. He finds old take-out, probably spoiled, but eats it anyway. There's no one to cook for him today. He considers getting high, until he remember he used the last of his stash with Junhyung. He has laundry to do, but he has no idea how to use the machine because Junhyung is the only one who can get it to work right. He could clean up the house, but there isn't much point without someone nagging him to do it. So when Junhyung arrives that evening, Hyunseung is back in bed, his blanket pulled up over his head. Junhyung sits on the edge of the bed and waits, but gets no response. “You alive in there?” A slight rustle which he assumes is a nod. “Yoseob is back.” Another rustle. “They're throwing a party for him tonight, want to go?” Silence. “I'm going, come with me.” “No thanks,” he mumbles through the blanket. “I'll be leaving right after the party, Hyunseung.” His voice is pleading, or as close to pleading as Junhyung is capable. Hyunseung pulls the blanket tighter around him. “Is that a no?” The blankets rustle and Junhyung sighs before standing up. Hyunseung doesn't hear the door close and spends the night pretending he's not crying. ==> Part Two.