Yeah, whenever. It's just sitting on the stove anyway.
( of all the things his parents could have left him, he's glad for the cooking. a simple thing, but meaningful. useful. jjigae are one of the things he's especially good at now, a staple, made from muscle memory now more than actual thought. it's not nachos, but he's got a bunch of sides to add to it so it's nacho adjacent? sure. why not.
he's flipped the light on at the top of the stairs that lead to his place, the door just beyond a veritable gauntlet of plants in pots. he's left the door open a couple inches and while it's not a nice neighbourhood, it'll be fine. )
( it'll definitely be fine. he's been in worse neighborhoods and he's been fine. hell, not that he'd know if he got shot or stabbed anyway. lost that ability a long time ago.
that's why he's so confident about spice. even if it was the hottest spice in the world, he'd feel it but it wouldn't kill him. plus, he's hungry.
when he arrives, he nudges the door open with his toe and peers inside. )
( he's not, actually. off-duty and everything. his voice carries from the kitchen in the back of the apartment but the smell of the pot of jjigae fills the whole place. it's mostly just kimchi at this point. )
( jed stops moving and crouches down to unlace his boots. he pulls them off and sets them neatly by the door. thankfully, his socks don't have holes in them. )
( it's a cozy enough kitchen. there's a large window cutout of the wall separating it from the rest of the space and a counter between with stools pulled up to it. gaon bobs his head in greeting but he goes right back to the scallions he's cutting. )
Okay, good, because I don't have much otherwise if you didn't. What pulled you back?
( he tips the scallions into the stew and pulls a couple of bowls down out of a cupboard, filling each of them liberally with rice from the cooker in the corner. he slides one across the counter for jed. )
Nachos might have done it for me. With the beef? Sit.
( he hums the agreement to himself and brings first a hot pad and then the pot off the stove, still simmering. it's rich with kimchi, pork belly, and tofu and he spoons a generous helping of it over jed's rice without really asking. )
My parents owned a restaurant. I grew up in it.
( he portions some over his own rice and returns the pot to the stove, pulls a couple of containers out with fresh pickled cucumbers and blanched spinach. )
( he shrugs and finds a couple mismatched smaller bowls to spoon the sides into, sliding two of them across the counter to jed and portions out another couple for himself. )
We're all products of what we grew up in. Nothing wrong with that. Do you drink? I have beer or orange juice or water.
( he definitely drinks. sometimes, more than he should for the wrong reasons. right now, he's more focused on the food though he does give a little huff of a laugh to the bowls. )
Orange juice sounds good. Can't remember the last time I had that.
( gaon shrugs off the laugh with one of his own and pulls out spoons, forks. chopsticks, too, which he'll use for his own but he knows how people are about it here. )
You're eating korean, you get all the sides, too. It's a rule. Eat.
( bossy, but polite about it. kinda. well-intentioned, anyway.
he pulls a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge and pours each of them a glass. there's no chair on his side of the counter but he perches a hip against the edge of it like he doesn't sit down for a lot of his meals and pulls his own bowl closer. )
I don't have milk, though, so if it's too spicy you're out of luck.
( he shrugs, good-natured, and tucks into his own bowl of stew. it's still too hot temperature-wise but he's never really been good at patience. especially when he's feeding himself.
it's only belatedly that the words really sink in. he's got a loaded spoonful halfway to his mouth when he looks up again. )
( a complicated series of emotions flicker across his face, quicker than he's able to keep them masked. he settles on not-quite-concern, softened at the edges where he's studying jed's hand. )
I guess that's...useful?
( is it? that's a weird thing to say. and still he leans into it. )
( another of those pauses, though this one is quieter somehow. careful, almost, as he settles against the counter again, thumb working against the handle of his spoon. )
( his attention is back on his food but mostly for show, giving space. he's considering the information he's been given and how it fits into what he knows, but when his eyes lift again he's concerned. )
I didn't think that at all. Sometimes things just happen and it's nothing to do with what we did.
( he plays defensive well enough. what if he did like steaks fully cooked, what then?? but there's enough of a laugh at the corners of his eyes to give him away. )
( It doesn't settle any of his anxiety the way either of them would have liked. A part of him knows how he reacts to spite, and the fact that he does not immediately put distance between himself and the vitriol says more than he'd like. )
( it comes immediately, a little rushed. he doesn't know what he's after but he'd downed a beer once he'd sat like it might soothe some of the barbs in his mood and now he's even more amped up. looking for a fight. he's already got another drink on the way. )
( petty for the sake of it, but there's truth in there too. he doesn't know whether it's meant to be barbed or genuine, but it's probably both at the same time. )
( there's noise in the background for a moment, a fresh drink brought to him with a rush of bows and quick thanks. his attention never fully strays but he swallows a mouthful of his beer before he manages to half-arrange his thoughts. )
You can't use honesty as a trump card.
( he huffs a breath. he knows better than this. who is he to yohan anyway? )
I don't know how to do anything any other way, Gaon.
( Games are a part of Kang Yohan's life, his very dna. He has never managed to stop playing them. And more protests that he is trying would fall on deaf ears, he thinks. )
( he makes a disapproving noise down the phone. it's milder than he has been, though, so it's something. yohan has made a point, even if gaon isn't currently in the mood to agree. )
I want to be able to trust you.
( something that's not quite a request, softened at the edges by alcohol. a goal. something to work towards. )
Make her take you home. If you don't I'll have K tail you from here to eternity, Kim Gaon, and he's very busy. And if I send him he will drag you out of there. Whether you like it or not.
( there's a little gurgle of sound, a choked laugh that's more at the audacity than the terms. he's still arguing to argue, without heat or conviction. )
I believe I still have the right to conduct myself as I see fit, Judge Kang? Without interference. I'm allowed a night out.
You were also thrown into a lake not that long ago.
( Sharp with reprimand, concern all edged. )
I'm not saying you can't. I'm only saying make sure you have a way home that doesn't end up in someone deciding to take advantage of a drunk judge firmly in the public eye. I'm not being unreasonable.
( He might be, considering he's going to pull over to call K immediately either way. )
( maybe that's part of it, this mood. maybe it's a dare whether he's aware of the motivation himself. he'd considered the public awareness when he'd agreed to the show, but he hadn't realized the extent to which society would pay attention.
he opens his mouth to answer, not realizing what he's about to say. )
( The car pulls out of the road, careful, sliding into an available place so he can wait. )
You have to be sensible now, Kim Gaon. You wouldn't be the only person hurt if anything happened to you. You've made Elijah like you, and if she cries I'll make your life miserable.
( ah. playing a card gaon didn't even take into consideration. he should have. he does know better. he takes another long drink, eyes on the window but out of focus, staring into the middle distance. as much as the threat of something awful happening is appealing right now, in a way he can't name, kang yohan is, insufferably, right.
a heavy sigh, but it's acquiescence. )
Don't call K. God knows what you've got him doing.
Tell me where you are. I'll even let you linger for a little while, but I need to be back for Elijah sooner rather than later. She has a class tonight.
( he breathes too heavy into the phone. he's annoyed but he's not. it's unfair. it's reasonable. it's a whole host of things too muddled up to parse on this much alcohol and this little sleep. he knows better on an empty stomach. )
You're close already, aren't you?
( he at least has the decency to tip the phone away when he calls for another somaek. )
( he takes the time to drain what's left in his glass before answering, obstinate for the sake of it. he doesn't quite manage to hide the burp that follows behind his hand but it's harder to care about decorum at this point and what of it? what does he care? )
That depends on how long it takes you to get here.
( they swap his drink out for a fresh one and he has to ask the man for the name of the place to finally feed it down the phone to yohan. )
( He hangs up, dismissive, once he has what he needs. Probably so that Kim Gaon will not hear the way the engine revs or the tyres squeal, his car doing a 180 on the reasonably busy roads. True to his word though, it does take ten minutes - and if he gets a ticket he'll make Kim Gaon suffer for it later. Yohan strides into the place like a man on a mission either way, frown between his brows, domineering aura very much in tact. It's to hide the concerned clench of his jaw, but that's fine, actually. He is still pissed about it.
It's easy enough to find Kim Gaon, but instead of his desire to just yank the man from his seat - too many witnesses - he merely comes to a halt at his right, )
( the energy shifts when kang yohan walks in. gaon sees him reflected, an ominous shape in the window, and he sees the shapes of other people moving, looking, peering to see who's brought a storm in with him. pity kang yohan is who he is, gaon has gone undetected thus far but he's sure that he'll lose that anonymity shortly.
he watches yohan in the window as he takes a slow sip of his half-finished drink, ignoring the actual version beside him with the sort of petty spite that surfaces with just enough alcohol. he hums into the rim of his glass, almost companionable. )
( If they were alone this would be easier. Yohan would simply drag him from his stool with single-minded intent, hands too mean to cover up any lingering concern that might still reside. He prefers the rage to it, either way. It blooms fouler the more he looks at Gaon, tired, and wan, and considerably drunk, slumped on the countertop and ignoring Kang Yohan.
It's a problem with no solution he can find, which means he's frustrated. )
I have things to do this evening, I don't need to add babysitting to it.
( never mind they've been over this, never mind kang yohan can't. he takes another considering sip before he slowly turns his head just far enough to peer up at yohan through his fringe. he is decidedly inebriated considering how little he usually drinks and he watches yohan's face as he swallows another mouthful, petty, eyebrows slowly raising as if in challenge. )
Sit. ( he gestures to the stool beside him. ) Have a drink.
( Through gritted teeth, as though he is some paragon of virtue, jaw clenching. Whatever this is, whatever is happening, he can play along as much as he needs to. All that really matters is getting Kim Gaon out of here without incident. He can be angry at him later. Therefore, the enraged shape of his hands get tucked into his suit pants, and Yohan's most venomous smile slips across his features, sharply pleasant, as opaque as the thickest of masks. ) I do hope Judge Kim is not suggesting I break the law simply because he's in a bad mood.
( Head tipping, voice dropping low like a secret. )
Be grateful I'm letting him finish his, instead of throwing it somewhere. But don't test me, mm?
( gaon is slow to blink at him, clear to maybe yohan alone that he's a couple of seconds slow to process the threat. but he smiles, too. less barbed, bordering on beatific, as if there isn't a cavernous wealth of spite yawning open inside of him. it's not yohan specifically. but. it is yohan at the same time, and the barely controlled rage he can see in the tells he's learned makes him want to push for more. )
Aish.
( he lets his nose scrunch, his face folding as he sways away from yohan. he considers taking his time with what's left of his drink but when he tips the glass back he empties it in a couple of long swallows instead and plants it back on the bar, licking what's left off his lower lip. he ignores yohan still as he leans across the counter to call for the man to bring his bill, only just fighting back the urge to order another drink just to see what colour yohan might turn in trying to play civil. )
( His hands itch with the need to wrap themselves around Kim Gaon's pretty, defiant little neck, a muscle in his jaw clenching firmer. His noxious mood is perhaps less honed than he'd like, because the server hurries off for the bill with a mutter, and Yohan watches the man's back instead of Gaon's face, lifting one hand free only to reach inside his breast pocket for his wallet.
The bill arrives, Gaon too uncoordinated to reach it first. It means Yohan sees the price and selects the bills with practise ease, a hefty enough tip to soothe over the ragged edges of his presence added without much thought. He dumps everything on the bar top and then takes a step back, giving room. )
Come on.
( Logically he knows he's being unfair. He has continued to use Kim Gaon like a pawn piece, shifting him across the cavernous board without ( much ) thought for his feelings - but then, haven't they both been overstepping boundaries? Hasn't' this man swept into his life with all the force of a hurricane, disturbing the very careful plans Yohan has gathered around him? Doesn't this street go both ways? He glances back at Gaon, eyes dark. )
( he looks from the money to the server to yohan and then back again, assessing that the appropriate sort of transaction has taken place for his business to be concluded. he hadn't even reached for his wallet yet and the sense of being cared for wars with the need for his own agency and he drums both sets of fingers on the bar once, twice, before splaying his hands flat and pushing himself up to his feet. )
I'm fine.
( voice hot, leaning into irritated. he's barely slept, hasn't eaten, is three somaeks down in fairly quick succession--he glares at yohan and promptly stumbles on his first step.
he's just as quick to brush yohan's hands away, shrugging him off with a rougher, quieter, )I'm fine, ( and he is, too, cutting through the bar with a surety fueled solely by the obstinate need for autonomy.
and then he stumbles shoulder first into the doorjamb, only just catching himself on the fence outside. )
( He has to bite back the laugh it engineers, molars to the side of his tongue. For one, he is not quite sure Gaon would not swing for him with Yohan's perceived derision, for another he isn't ready to be anything less than furious just yet. Which means he's silent as he steps up beside Gaon, getting his fingers into the meat of his arm to hold him steady, his other hand pushing the door so that he can drag them both out into the busy, mizzling street.
At least outside they blend with the crowds, Yohan does not let up on his grip. )
The car's this way.
( It sits, tucked, in a singular space just on the edge of the street. Yohan pulls Gaon along like a misbehaved child, knowing full well that his grip might be punishing. That's fine, that's deserved. ) If you throw up in it I will kill you.
( it's easier to let himself be hauled along as he adjusts to the chill outside. it's not quite enough to sharpen the edges of his awareness but he drags his feet against yohan's insistence for a couple of steps as he sucks in a lungful of fresh air that does wonders for the fog in his head. )
I'm not gonna throw up--
( there's a kind of joy in his petulance, something freeing about having someone dependable to take charge. it means he doesn't have to be on guard anymore and arguing for the sake of being contrary is good enough reason alone even if he's pretty sure he has ample reason to argue with kang yohan about any subject at this point.
he slumps back against the side of the vehicle, twisting his arm out of yohan's grasp once he's got something else solid to settle against, and squints up the street as he struggles to get his hands into the pockets of his coat. )
We could get a drink still, there's a place up there.
( He doesn't dignify that with a response, fishing out his car keys one handed so he can unlock it, using the other hand to pull Gaon off-balance and away from the door. The very same hand pushes him back towards it when he gets it open, face an impassive blank of cold. )
When your lack of self-preservation is no longer detrimental to me you can have any number of drinks you want, but for now you're going to get in the car, Judge Kim.
( The fact that it is, the fact that he's here, rankles on him a bit. He's aware of himself to know that much of this has little to do with any of his plans, that there's no reason for him to come and fetch the other man away from his own self-inflicted pity party. He could have let him be, kept on down several of his other paths. His scheming would have been successful either way. But he sees his fingerprints all over this, and considering everything that has happened between them lately he -.
What? Cares?
A muffled curse, Yohan holding the door with one hand, blocking Gaon's escape with his body. He's tired. ) We can finish this at home.
( he catches himself against the lip of the door before yohan can forcibly put him in the seat, trying to keep the world from swaying with the sudden shift in his center of balance. he breathes thickly through his nose, aware of yohan's demand in an abstract, distant way, head tipped forward until the vertigo eases and he can turn in the little pocket of space that yohan has left him. )
Woww. ( he draws it out, reaching with a clumsy hand to tug at the lapel of yohan's coat, shoulder blades settling against the car. he's angry in a way he can't quantify, a deep-rooted well of closed up rage at too many different things that he's not allowed to touch, and here he can feel it pushing at his edges, testing the bounds with someone who shouldn't be safe and yet is? somehow? he pushes at yohan's chest only just enough to get a sense of how difficult a fight it might be to get past him. how sturdy he's decided to be. )You're so eager to take me home again? Bujangnim.
( His jaw tightens so thoroughly and so suddenly that his teeth might crack with it, breathing a singular harsh exhale through his nose. He takes liberties with the younger man's space all of the time, he's very much aware of that. Right now though he isn't in the mood to have it turned upon him. Too many boundaries have been bypassed lately, and he wants - needs - to be be impassable. So he isn't swayed by the touch, either because Gaon wouldn't put up much of a fight in the state that he's in, and Yohan is very good at finding weaknesses or because it's clumsy, mean, small in a way he won't rise to. )
In, Kim Gaon. Or I'll throw you in the backseat and let the journey rattle some sense into that pickled brain of yours.
( A hand lifts, knocks aside the fingers pressing into his lapel. His own moves to shove against a shoulder. Nobody is paying them any mind, the street busy with noise. Yohan leans forward a little, a glint in his eye caught by the streetlight. )
( under different circumstances (sober) goan might be cowed by the vitriol, if not the threat. here he doesn't have it in him to be wary of the consequences of his actions and it's clear in the way he sets his chin, tries rising up against yohan's hand in defiant opposition to being told what to do by kang yohan, of all people.
he leverages himself against the door, getting up as close to yohan as he's able all the while trying to twist himself free, as if there's any hope of pushing through, getting past, breaking away. yohan's close enough already that he can feel the heat off his skin; gaon huffs a breath in his face.
would anyone intervene if he shouted for help? what kind of spectacle could he create? it's a testament to something beyond him right now that he lets this stay contained, quiet, an outburst solely for yohan's enjoyment. )
( Sharp, bitter with it. He can almost see the way Gaon is calculating his trajectory. He's drunk enough that his face betrays him, genuine shifts in his expression as he looks for a way out. Yohan lets out a snarled breath, hand in the meat under his armpit as he yanks him back away from the car. When Gaon stumbles he tugs open the back door, and in one swift moment he has a hand over the base of the other man's skull, ducking his head to shove him into the seats. It's an awkward stumble, but Gaon is inebriated, and Yohan - once he's sure he won't brain himself - gathers his legs and pushes. The door closes neatly behind him, the front slammed in echo and Yohan making his way around the other side.
He slams into the driver seat, yanks the door behind him, fingers flicking the lock. )
( he doesn't quite manage to catch himself and lands elbow first, shoulder, face in the seat. it muffles the barrage of cursing that swells up out of him as he tries to pick himself up and kick his way free at the same time, an animalistic instinct against being corralled. hands on the back of the driver's seat, the window, anything to get him upright but yohan's already got the door closed behind him and gaon would be seething if the consequences of his actions weren't right there waiting for him. )
Fuck-- ( as yohan's door shuts.
he slumps back haphazardly against the seat, stomach lurching. he's lightheaded enough to distract him from the anger and he lets out an uneasy breath as he settles for the moment, sprawled inelegantly across most of the backseat. he pinches his brow, waiting for it to pass. )
You put yours on. ( he throws it forward anyway, aimless, contrary because he must. ) Drive safe.
( 'Drive safe', muttered underneath his breath, a little mocking as he buckles up, gaze dark in the wingmirror. Yohan shoves the keys in shortly after, the engine revving and his car peeling out of the space in a short, brief jerk. He has to slam the brakes on immediately as someone stumbles into the street, but a self-satisfied vicious smirk takes the place of his frown. )
Seatbelt.
( He's a little more careful as they navigate the street, but the minute he's free onto the highway there'll be no holds barred. It might help simmer some of the rage out, uncaring about his hassled passenger. )
( another round of cursing. it takes too long for gaon to pick himself up from where yohan's brakes have sent him halfway into the footwell and the swearing continues, low and to himself as he hauls himself back up onto the seat and immediately ignores the seatbelt command all over again.
he doesn't drink like this often enough to have built up any kind of defense against it. the last drink is working its way through his bloodstream, overwarming him from the inside-out and he decides that he absolutely needs to get his coat off. it's maybe not obvious at first, what he's trying to do. the closed confines of the backseat don't give him a lot of room to get his first arm free but he manages it with his teeth on the cuff of his sleeve and a mean, pleased grin at yohan in the rearview mirror when their eyes meet. )
( He catches a glimpse in the mirror again, Kim Gaon's drunken wriggling enough of a distraction that he can't help but look. It means he witnesses the reveal of the barest strip of skin in the slithering, shirt pulling away before it falls back into place. Yohan drags his eyes back to the road in front of him, indicating to overtake with such sharp motions that his displeasure remains sorely evident. )
Haven't you been naked in my car enough?
( Says the man who regularly insinuates otherwise, but that mean smirk makes him want to act a certain way, and since he can't just toss Gaon around like a weak little kitten right now, then it's verbal punches for the foreseeable. ) Look at yourself, Kim Gaon. Is this really your best thought?
( gaon sways with every turn of the wheel, balance already barely an option without yohan's mood making it worse. he has to brace himself between the seats, knees pressing into the back of the passenger seat, shoulders against his own just to figure out how to squirm out of the other sleeve. it takes a lot out of him, actually, and yohan's blessed with relative quiet for a couple of minutes while gaon slumps back and lets himself coast on the sensation of the vehicle's movement, the collar of his t-shirt pulled too far askew.
unfortunately, belatedly, he realizes he's been asked a question. )
Is what my what?
( helpful. so helpful. he's remembered his phone at this point and his attention swings away from yohan again to try to figure out which pocket it ended up in. )
( Like always, something rises in Yohan when Gaon's attention is directed elsewhere. His hands tighten infinitesimally on the wheel, knuckles creaking under his skin, gaze skipping to the mirror and back. It's easier now they're on the highway, he can take his temper out via speed, the car zipping seamlessly through the rest of the traffic. But it's still there, roiling under the surface. )
You don't strike me as the type to recklessly drown your sorrows.
( Deceptively light, considering Yohan is still very much in a mood, his body radiating irritation. )
( there's no answer beyond the sound of gaon fumbling. it's hard to say he even heard the question, distracted again now that he's found his phone in his pants pocket. the problem has become getting it out and the view in the mirror is just gaon increasingly listing sidewards to get the angle right to pull it free.
coordination isn't his strong suit right now. the phone lands on the seat and then immediately slips into the footwell and gaon doesn't think twice before he follows after it. it takes three tries to lever himself back up and instead of the backseat he ends up propped on the side of yohan's seat, cheek pillowed just below the headrest, eyes on the road ahead. )
( His, as bitter as the word comes out. ) Because someone has to keep an eye on you. Sit back.
( He's drunk, Yohan knows that drunk people are often stupid, but he doesn't quite feel like giving Gaon an out for his behaviour. He wants to sit in the barely contained fury a little longer, stomach tight with irritated acid, his knuckles still white on the wheel. He can almost see Gaon out of the corner of his eye, a fact that has Yohan's jaw clenching tighter, teeth scraping. The violence in him is not surprising, but he doesn't really know what to do with it either way. )
I told Elijah I'd be back. You better sober up on the drive. Close your eyes, think very hard.
some of his awareness seems to be filtering back into place, the drink slowly leeching further into his system. part of why he doesn't often drink usually comes down to not knowing what kind of drunk will surface. inevitably it seems to be one that gets him in trouble if not properly contained by soohyun appropriate forces. opens up old wounds. presses into the valleys of himself he's barred from. )
Should you be speeding?
( eyes on the speedometer now. yohan's seat bows a little as gaon pushes towards the side of the passenger seat, his elbow on the console between so he can pillow his chin in his hand and get a better view of yohan's profile. )
( The dial creeps higher out of spite, Yohan's foot pressing more firmly. )
I'm in control. ( The unlike you unheard but still pointed. Gaon's attention on him is a strange distraction, one Yohan can't simply ignore like he does everything else. He can feel the weight of his hand pressed up against the side of his seat, smell the drink. ) Stop looking. Sit back. Do you want to cause an accident?
( he doesn't sit back. some of it is spite. mostly it's because the direction washes over him without attaching to anything. he studies the side of yohan's face, the sharp clench of his jaw, the temper pulsing in his temple and a smile spreads across his own face, pleased and indulgent. )
( A rude, guttural noise at the back of his throat, gaze cutting downwards before it's back on the road. )
I just don't want to have to bring another associate to heel, Kim Gaon, don't get ahead of yourself. ( Worried? Yes. He's not sure he likes that. That Gaon is deep enough to be something he gets concerned about. He'd like to tell himself the same thing, work related, scheme related, but it falls flat to himself too. So instead he aims the sharp edge of his elbow Gaon's way in a feint, irritated. ) Idiot.
( Sucking his teeth, settling back to try and focus. )
( his hand comes up too slow to catch yohan's elbow, never mind to actually block it if it had been necessary. he keeps it up between them a little longer, defensive, just in case yohan tries it again but gaon really only has the fact that yohan is driving right now on his side. a beat, and then he laughs, head sprawling back against the passenger seat, his eyes swinging across the road ahead of them and then lower, inside the vehicle, across the dash--
he leans up between the seats in one fluid motion to twist the volume button on the radio up. )
( Instinct has him slapping Gaon's hand away, wrenching the volume back down immediately afterwards. )
I need to concentrate.
( Not actively, not in any way that the radio might dissuade him from. But there's something small and petty lodged like a stone in his throat, an irritation he can't clear. Letting Gaon have his way would only worsen it. )
You're not a child, Judge Kim. Surely you know how to sit still and be good?
he sighs heavily to himself at the loss. the quiet isn't bad. he hadn't noticed it until realizing there was an option otherwise. now he's annoyed at the silence, at kang yohan's mood. the urge to fight rises up in him again, to point out that he hadn't asked for any of this, but he stills it with the clench of his jaw and forces himself to retreat back into the backseat. )
Why were you in the city anyway? Shouldn't you have been home already?
( Soul-crushing, miserable things. This should feel like a reprieve - and he supposes it is. His anger feels more formed here. He can be mad at a specific source instead of the ceaseless, unfathomable other that he has to mire himself in. )
You may be able to mentally clock out at the end of the day but some of us don't have that luxury.
( Unkind, and he knows it. It's not Kim Gaon's fault that so much of Yohan's life is spent with his fingers teasing out the web. His shoulders twitch, and then he reaches out, turns the radio back on. It's still quiet, low enough that it won't really help, it just adds a jaunty little backdrop to the simmering rage. )
( it comes out louder than he means it to, a shotgun blast of a new and sudden frustration. kang yohan is picking fights, whatever this mood of his is, and gaon isn't anywhere close to sober enough to rein himself in. under other circumstances the radio might have been enough to soothe over some rough edges, but instead gaon is up with his hands on both seats this time, far enough forward that he can get in yohan's face about it. )
You think I just go home and pretend like everything isn't terrible all of the time? That I don't have work that I do? Just because not all of us can be as big and full of secrets as Kang Yohan--
I think - ( And here, the sharp edge of a new rage, stewing at the edges of his consonants. ) - that you're still living in a bubble, Kim Gaon.
( His gaze is wild and dark when he lifts it to the wingmirror, and it is a very good thing that the road ahead has emptied out now they're heading out of the city, because he is paying attention to the man instead. His voice creeps ever higher, the rumbling of a storm. )
My secrets are an actual attempt to change things for the better. If you don't cut away the rot then it persists. If you don't treat it with a firm fucking hand it will grow back. At least I'm doing something beyond blithely pretending that hoping very hard will do anything.
( he laughs and it's too loud for the confines of the vehicle, echoes off all the panels and glass. )
I'm so glad! Good for you! It must be so hard to be wealthy and not have to worry about anything granular. Surely there aren't systems in place to deal with shit like that, right? Or you just know better? Is that it?
( he's kept his hands to himself, at least. aware of the road to some degree. )
No one can fix it, but Kang Yohan is here to save us.
Show me where the systems work! Show me when working within the lines produces any proper result. Prove me wrong.
( It comes out bullet fast, almost frantic, the sharpness of the words cutting. His hands slide against the wheel, changing lanes a little too quick, shoulders tight with tension and that old oil slick rage sloshing behind the back of his throat. )
Do you not think I haven't worked within the channels set out for me, Kim Gaon? Do you believe that I haven't exhausted every single avenue before now? That I haven't tried exactly as you'd want me to? ( His wealth, his power, none of it holds against those who have more. Yohan has had to be careful, he has had to be sly, and scheming, desperately keeping himself two, three steps ahead because if he stops for even a second it will all be for nothing. Everything he's made himself into, refusing to bear fruit. ) The people we're up against don't care for morality. They won't stop long enough for us to figure out a safe, palatable way of doing things. So yes, I do know better.
( His hands ache. He cannot lift them from the wheel. )
The sooner you realise that, the better. There is no room for virtue here.
( he's silent for long enough after the outburst that there's a point to it. there are too many concepts being thrown at him for the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream and objectively he knows through all the mire and rage that kang yohan has a point. but it can't be that simple for them, can it? there's a hopelessness to it that wells up in him, huge and sick. it makes him angrier instead of despondent.
maybe not the best time for it. )
Then what's the point?
( it's quiet. so fucking quiet, brimming with the heat of all the things he has keep forced down under his tongue. )
What's the fucking point of any of it? If they've fucking got control of everything then why bother with anything?
( his hands are fists against the seats. an ugly scoff tears out of him and he pushes back into the backseat again, which only makes him louder. is this how the world works? this is all there is to it? people like them and people like kang yohan, warring with each other while everyone else suffers? )
If there's no room for virtue then what's the fucking point?
There is no room for growth now, Kim Gaon. The weeds have taken root, they consume without cause for concern, starving the rest of the people of the things they need. It doesn't matter to the weed. The weed will always survive. But if someone comes along, someone with a firm grip, someone who can uproot them one by one, pull them out at the radicle? Then that could be enough. It has to be enough. And I am sorry that you notice them now. It's hard to keep going when you see how much of the garden they have taken over. ( Wry, because this is a framing Gaon knows well. He wonders if the other man lets his bleeding heart sympathise with the things in his collection he must cut out, too. ) But if you give up it gets worse. If you let go, the whole thing gets subsumed.
( Off the highway now, speed still high. )
And I don't have that luxury. ( Finite, his gaze lifting to the mirror, to Gaon's furious face in it. ) And I think, now that you see it, you don't have the heart to step back either.
( school hadn't prepared him for this. the hours and years he'd poured into his education, ensuring he was the best of the best, top of the class, pushing his way towards the goals he'd set so that he might be able to make a difference in some people's lives. all of that, and it's meaningless? it doesn't matter? whole systems in place, the bedrock of society and the agreements that citizens make with their government, the laws and the regulations and the civil agreement to work towards bettering things. it's not perfect, he's not delusional, but there's no way it's as kang yohan says. it can't be. someone would step in, right?
as good as the analogy is -- and gaon knows weeds, understands that yohan is trying to make him see in a language he speaks -- it's hollow. grandiose, almost. sure, kang yohan has been at the wrong end of terrible hands but who hasn't? loss is a part of life and drunk like this all gaon hears is the way kang yohan thinks he's clever. )
You're angry because they hurt you and now you want to get even. That's not justice. That's revenge. And you just have the means to accomplish it.
( he's up between the seats again now, really, properly angry. not at yohan specifically, though that's forefront, that's the target. but at the fact that yohan might be right and that that's even worse. )
Lie to yourself all you want but we both know this is all for you.
( His temper flares, sharp like tinder. And then just like that it leaves him again. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of them, aware of Gaon to his side but diligently training his gaze ahead. )
It is. And I do.
( Easy, conversational. There's very little point in revealing more of himself now, the raw grief that still rests inside of him, deep enough now that he thinks it's in his DNA. He could tell Kim Gaon other things, but it isn't time yet. Yohan doesn't know if what's been blooming is trust, or something stupidly like want. He doesn't know if he's so desperate for someone to understand him that he'd foolishly place it firmly in the hands of someone who's face is an echo of the only person who has ever been truly kind. So he swallows it all back, anger fleeting, voice forcefully calm once more.
He is better than this. He has to be better than this. )
But why shouldn't it be me? So what if my motives are selfish, Kim Gaon? Why should it matter that it's for me? I'm doing something.
( said as though it's obvious. like it won't come back to haunt him later, once he learns how little of the picture he's actually been shown.
he knows it's a losing argument, is the thing. watching kang yohan's profile, the way reflected light washes over the planes of it, how the muscles jump each time his jaw flexes. immovable, implacable, a wall he'll continue to throw himself against because he won't be able to help it. kang yohan has power, and who has the ability to stop him? checks and balances exist for a reason.
it can't all mean nothing.
he sinks into the backseat again quietly, tired now. wrung out. the anger hasn't gone anywhere, just now it's settling into his chest, in his blood, a thing set to fester, to slowly broil. )
( It would be so easy to leave it, to drive the rest of the way home and drag Gaon from the car, send him to his bed to sober up and leave Yohan alone with the writhing mess of his insides. If he were sensible he might, but there's something about this particular man that makes him want to wrench his ribcage open just so he might see. And that in itself is terrifying. He'd thought - Gaon looked like Isaac, if you didn't know where to see the differences. He'd assumed that way lay the origin. His brother had been Yohan's guiding light for so long, so of course the similarities were enough to trick him.
But Gaon is nothing like Isaac. And yet Yohan still wants to confess.
He hates it. It is not him. He does not tread unknown paths, not anymore. What right does Gaon even have to make him feel this way? Complicated, unsettled, the bare teeth of a cornered animal. He doesn't trust him, shouldn't make any attempt to try. And so he merely turns onto the long road up to the house, gaze flicking to the window just once. )
I don't need to be fighting you on this too, Kim Gaon.
( he's not sure what more there is to say. he's made his point. taken a stand. his eyes meet yohan's in the mirror and then he's looking away again, retreating into himself. he could keep pushing, but he doesn't know for what now. he wants to shower, wants to sleep. wants to shut himself up with a few doors between him and kang yohan to think his own thoughts without judgement or excuses.
it's a fight for another day, for sure. he knows already he'll return to it even as he settles into the seat, watching the familiar landscape pass out the window as he folds his arms over his chest.
he's not sober enough to really be aware of the irony of having this kind of conversation while being forcibly dragged back to kang yohan's home and maybe that's for the best, actually. yohan can remind him later, once gaon realizes he's right. )
[His eyes light up at the yakult and he accepts it with a quiet thanks, piercing the foil with the straw and taking a couple of big sips. It's a near-perfect way to round out the night. Of course, the food will just be the cherry on top.]
I'll do it, thank you. [The yakult gets left on the counter for now. Teasing the pile of clothes apart, he drops one piece at a time into the machine, resists the temptation to dump the whole bottle of laundry liquid in - it would just cause much more problems than getting extra clean clothes - and gets it going.]
Mmmmm, whatever you're making, it smells good. I didn't think you had much time to cook.
( he keeps a faint eye on what's going on behind him but he doesn't intervene. he's busy adding all the rest of his veggies into his pan anyway, quick to stir it all until everything's equally coated. )
I don't always. ( more often than not. he still manages to cook more than a lot of people in his position and that's something. he settles against the counter and after a beat nudges the second yakult closer towards his guest. no insistence, just offer. ) I probably wouldn't if I didn't like it. Do you cook?
( not ready to ask any of the Real Questions yet. )
Yes. [He is rather domesticated for a goblin. Not that he's met so many in his lifetime. He wouldn't know if they're all supposed to be homely or not.
Resisting the urge to press every button on the panel just to see what happens, he peels away from the washing machine's side and latches onto the second yakult like a magpie.]
I can cook for you sometime. I make a decent steak. Or pan-seared cod with my special béchamel sauce.
[It's probably a little out of touch given the current state of the world. He seems rather oblivious to it all. These cycles in and out of the station have almost become a tired old game he didn't know he was playing while the suffering and despair plays out all around him.]
I'll have to do more than cook for you then. Proper lessons.
( he drags out the exclamation but his eyes are laughing as he turns his attention back to the pan. more stirring, more steps. he makes the space to add his oil and then his sauce, working with the mindless familiarity of someone who does it more often than not. it's another minute before he adds water and covers it with a lid and then he can finally turn his attention back. )
[Not a very good one, but any man worth his salt should be able to make his own demi-glace sauce.]
What happened? Ah, tonight? [He slurps on his yakult while watching the machine fill up and start agitating the clothes.]
Mmm. I told you. I tried to stop a mugging. I'm something of a... [Guardian. Magical being. God. Annoying immortal that keeps intervening where he really shouldn't.
[Does he stop a lot of muggings? No. Maybe sometimes, when he's
feeling particularly charitable. But he's not selfless or heroic enough to
care to intervene most of the time. Most of the time he is as apathetic as
those whose apathy annoy him the most.]
When I meet people, I know when something is going to happen to them.
Sometimes I-- guess I care enough to try and help.
( his head tips, curious. not fully comprehending but he's fairly sure he's not mishearing, either. it's hard to guess what he's going to say and how much of it is genuine. is it believable? there's Something about him, but nothing so far that can't be handwaved as middling eccentricities. )
You know when something is going to happen to them?
Ah, yeah. [He turns around to face the young man, leaning back against the washing machine, legs crossed at the ankles. He was a young man like Kim Gaon once. So sure he knew everything there was to know about the world and where his place was meant to be in it.
Over nine hundred years have passed and he feels old and tired to the bone. The things he doesn't know don't bother him so much anymore.]
( his eyes narrow and they drop, taking a quick survey of the man before he even registers that he's doing it. but then he supposes he's been asked to look, hasn't he? so he looks again, assessing, reading information into details he probably shouldn't but storing it all away for later without really understanding he's doing it. )
You look tired?
( he's not sure what he's meant to be looking for. )
Like someone with too much money to be worried about stopping muggings, for one. Normal is a stretch.
Tired? [Oh dear.] Tired? Me? I'm not tired. Why do I look tired? Do I have eye bags?! [No, he's not vain, not panicking at all. He checks his reflection in the fridge, the closest pot or kettle, anything that might reflect him back, combing a bit of his fringe back with his last three fingers.]
Oi! Don't scare me like that... [He straightens up and tugs on the bottom of his borrowed clothes. They're very comfortable, he has to admit.]
I can have too much money and still want to do the right thing, can't I? Maybe being a guardian angel pays well and you're in the wrong profession.
( he watches, bemused. curious. still not entirely sure of the context or constraints of the conversation or how much is just one of the two of them being humoured. he's settled himself against the edge of the counter, half aware of his pan but mostly focused on deciding what really requires addressing. his own understanding of things? that's a tough sell. )
Is that what you are? A guardian angel? ( a pause, considering. ) Does heaven know they sent you?
[Heaven. What a strange concept. If there is one, he hasn't seen it, and he's not sure he ever will at this rate.]
Hmph. I could be your guardian angel. You never know. [Another hairflip. Another scoff.] I wasn't sent by heaven. I'm just here. [And he'll be here long after Kim Gaon is gone, most likely. Time will prove it even if he won't.]
he should be prepared for a weightier question, given the construction of the conversation, but he's caught off guard by it. it's a tricky thing, isn't it? too many layers of things coalescing into a larger whole. he makes a face, shrugs. )
I haven't seen evidence for any? I'm not opposed to the idea of it in whatever form it takes. ( a loose gesture with his hand, as if it conveys anything. a little of the old hurt tries to surface and he smooths it down viciously. ) There wasn't one when I needed one, anyway. bland smile. You're going to tell me I'm wrong, aren't you?
There wasn't one when I needed one either. [Maybe that's why he tries. Or at least, he tried, in the beginning. He can understand, after the centuries just ceaselessly and relentlessly rolling on by, that after a while, even the kindest god might stop caring.]
Someone has to stop the muggings then, right? If a god isn't going to step in.
( gaon understands that intimately. the urge to do something, anything, to make a difference. even if it's just for one person. even if it's just to try. a little hypocritical of him then, considering he's more than likely to put himself in the middle of a mugging before even realizing he's done it.
that's not the point of this conversation though so it's moot right??? pot, kettle, etc etc. )
As long as you're still around to stop more of them afterwards, I guess. Is that what's not normal?
Trying to do the right thing? I guess it depends on which circles you run in, whether that's normal or not... [Admittedly, he doesn't have much of a circle to speak of, but the goblin would like to think that it's fairly normal, yes.]
I guess you can say that I'm a god. But not that god - the one you're thinking of. I've only been around for nine hundred years. And I only intervene if I feel like it. [He tries to sound nonchalant about it. Like he hasn't gotten in trouble for intervening more often than the other not-quite-humans would like.]
( he blinks, caught in the long moment it takes for the words to catch up to him. a god, but not-- and what did he say before? do i seem normal? a guardian angel. this is digging a little deep for a bit, right?
gaon misses the counter when he shifts to prop his hand against it. he stumbles a little, has to catch himself. )
A what?
( weird jokes, yes? just a strange sense of humour? must be. )
( yohan won't get a text back from gaon. he's busy (annoyed) and the sounds from the other side of the door are worrying enough that he tries to open it to see what's going on just to have k look at him for a second too long before he pulls the door shut again.
ten minutes later yohan will get a text from k that simply says 'on our way'. )
( he doesn't even really know what he's annoyed at this point. railing against the way kang yohan thinks he can reach out and shepherd him back in, maybe. or sending his bogeyman to do it. )
I think I know you fairly well now. You don't seem the type to do harm to others without just cause. So if what you're keeping yourself from is something good? Then that would be a shame.
( feels wrong admitting that to a priest. but he's too busy feeling strange about father kang paying enough attention to him to give it too much thought. )
What if I'm worried about someone else's damnation?
( Briefly toying with the idea of throwing himself out of the window, but instead he'll pour himself another drink. )
If there is a hell then I don't think it's a place for people who choose love. And if the rules are particular then we'll all end up there anyway. Why make yourself miserable now?
( He has threatened to beat up a bishop once or twice. But, considering now, less playful. )
Isaac wanted me to join the seminary. He thought it would give me stability. A dedication. He hoped I'd learn to like people more, or that a higher calling might make up for where I lacked. And sometimes I think he was right. This way at least I can stop someone else using the rod of religion to beat people with.
Not in the same way most people do. There wasn't a pull, no divine inspiration, nothing called to me. Actually, in those days religion made me very angry. That's a little funny, isn't it?
( he's aware of what he's being told between the lines, but not willing to look at it head on when a text message could be taken any of several ways. which means he's just being obtuse on purpose, afraid of the consequences that might come from stepping his foot into something he really shouldn't.
maybe a conversation for another day, when they're face to face and gaon can see how polite and priestly this should all be taken. )
That's good to know. I appreciate your willingness to share with me.
I'm not wearing the collar now, Kim Gaon. And you're not actually part of my congregation, despite the fact that I see you there more often than I see half of them. I like talking to you.
A reason to believe in Him. The existence of beauty in the world points to a higher, divine source. I hadn't seen it myself, but maybe my mind can be changed.
So if you step a toe out of line, everyone looks at you funny. But nobody's even really having fun. What a nightmare. I bet people ask you all kinds of impertinent questions. (I also ask impertinent questions, but less fancily.)
I don't know them at all! I've just heard stories. I can't claim any militia expertise. If I wrote a book it'd be a biography of Bobby Womack.
Oh, I love Bobby Womack. I can talk about Bobby Womack for a long time. Well, I really like his music. But he makes me so mad. Who marries their friend's widow two months after he dies?
Do you think that's a sign of true love, or just being a whole mess?
People marry for all kinds of reasons. Did she need support? Financial? Emotional? Did she have children? It could have been for love but it could have just as easily been to help.
That's how I feel. On my mom's side of the family, they think of marriage as being a contract, you know, to continue the bloodline. Blah blah. They think of you wait past twenty-five, you aren't really focused on the family.
Most of them don't know about me. I've only met one aunt, and she isn't like the rest.
But I read about them in local papers sometimes. They're always buying things. Land, mostly, down south. Weird to see your own blood like strangers in the paper, but it's probably better that way.
My mother took off when I was a kid. Her mother did the same thing to her. And before that, my great-great grandmother abandoned her first family, too, a long time ago. Who knows? Maybe I'll do the same thing one day.
You're all right. I ask lots of nosy questions, too. Starting with: do you like your family? I mean, any of them, all of them, some of them.
Edited 2025-05-17 07:11 (UTC)
tell me why i never get regular notifs for you in here but i got one for the edit smh dw
There's never an easy answer to the questions we want the most, is there? Maybe there's a reason you haven't learned yet, but that doesn't negate the harm.
Ah. That's a tricky question. I don't have much for family, but I do like the ones that have built family with me.
dw hates me in particular 😔 (also i'm v. slow w irling atm so thank you for your patience!)
I think if you go against the direction fate wants, it redirects you. It corrects you. It's not punishment, exactly. But there are consequences for defying your direction.
That reminds me of a movie I saw! My sister got me into Tarkovsky, about growing, and about how only soft things can grow. If people don't have those pillars, do they always go off the path, you think?
So what if you don't like the direction? Are you just meant to go along with it?
Ahh. That's tricky. And that doesn't get into who's dictating the path in the first place. Maybe off the path isn't all that bad. Maybe there's more to life than the path.
I do think you are. But when I say fate it doesn't mean conventionality or what other people expect of you. People think the life they've chosen must be fate, but if they're unhappy in it most of the time, and the pros of leaving it outweigh the cons — I think that's the universe telling you, this is not your fate. That's why it feels this way.
More to life may more paths. Divergent ones. But some not so well-tread, right? But sometimes there are bears on those ones, so that's a plus.
Edited 2025-05-26 02:08 (UTC)
i've been ill and empty headed for so many days now wow
I think so! Because... there's a part of you that knows things that your brain doesn't. It's tapped into the consensus. The whole of everything, spilling into each other. That's where fate is written, not by gods. In time and space creating itself, and our selves inside it. I know it's a little wild sounding. But I feel it all the time.
( if yohan looks across the room at the right moment he'll see gaon eyeing him knowingly over the shoulder of the politician he's in conversation with. he gets an affirmative reply anyway, just in case, and gaon excuses himself from the cluster of people he'd been herded into with a polite bow and a smile that absolutely doesn't reach his eyes. there are more important things to worry about.
he doesn't play. he might if things were different, if there weren't weeks of distance between his hands and yohan. of course the world they operate in would bring them back together like this, close enough and still so far. there's an urgency he feels in his bones when he slips through the door with a furtive glance in either direction. it only grows as time ticks, as he waits, a counter ticking down to when he finally gets what he wants.
( His voice is warm and a little smug as he slides the door shut, gaze finding Gaon's in the dim yellow light. Yohan wastes very little time in crossing the distance, broad palms at his waist as he backs the younger man into a shelf, his expression full of such fathomless, ravenous longing that he gives himself away with it. There's too much fondness, too strong a pull, the corner of his mouth lifts up in an indulgent smile as they watch each other. He's faintly aware he's probably in over his head. )
You look good, Gaon-ah.
( A compliment that needs to be delivered, though if there's a reply Yohan cuts it off with his mouth, the firmest of kisses. )
( it's so good to see him. to be up close, in his space. to let all the miles that have kept them apart shrink to nothing. so much has happened and nothing at all has changed and gaon has to forcibly keep himself from pushing his hands into yohan's hair to unsettle all the product. later, he will. later he'll take him apart piece by piece, break him down to his base parts. now he contents himself with a hand on his face, thumb on his cheek--
dislodged immediately by the kiss, but gaon will grant him that.
he's missed him immensely, deep and shuddering if the noise he makes is any indication. he breathes deep through his nose and drags yohan closer with a hand on the back of his neck, trying to find the right balance between needing desperately to touch him and having to be presentable in the next few minutes. )
( His hands slide beneath Gaon's suit jacket, not to dislodge it, just because he needs them curved around the other man's ribs. The warmth of him is far more soothing than anything else in this place, the way his chest rises and falls with every breath settling into his palms with a buzz. The kiss is only a little frantic, hurried because they have to be, but indulgent enough that he pours every second of missing Gaon into it. It's the kind of kiss that gives away all the things he cannot say in it. )
Do you know how impossible it is to be in a room with you and not be able to touch you? ( All in a rush against his mouth, a murmured hum. ) I understand temptation now. Aish, Gaon-ah.
( A low laugh, half whispered into the space between them. )
( he likes the words yohan's saying as much as he wants him to shut up and kiss him properly. it's a terrible position to find himself in, strapped for time and too greedy to really do anything worthwhile with it. weeks of missing this man, of staring at his phone with too-big feelings in his chest that he has to swallow down each time someone else wants something from him, and now they're in the same room and all gaon wants to do is strip him down to bare skin and press as close as he can to him. and he can't.
well, he could, but. that wouldn't end well for either of them.
he drags his teeth across yohan's lip, gentle enough that it shouldn't raise any questions later, and kisses him again instead of answering right away. it's slower, his arms settling over yohan's shoulders as he sinks back against the shelves and pulls yohan deeper in, open-mouthed and achingly tender the longer it goes. )
I think it's rude-- ( a whisper, a flicker of a smile, touching his tongue to yohan's teeth-- ) that you'd even ask.
( Each time they fall together like this, Yohan is reminded of how fundamentally his feelings have shifted. Before Kim Gaon - before the man had cornered him after a party just like this, angry and full of fire - Yohan would have not even fathomed the idea of a thing like this. Sneaking away to kiss in a closet, too hungry for coherency and clever thoughts, hands straying even though they should do their best not to ruffle clothing? It was something other people did, a thing that he probably badly judged them for. But now? Now it's a wonder they made it through as much of the party as they did. There is a spark between them, the heat of Gaon's mouth against his own making his own pulse a thundering rush. )
I think I know.
( Gaon missed him. Yohan did too. He shows it with how he follows the swaying back, mouth breaking away to kiss along the sharp angle of the other man's jaw, breathing deep to take in his cologne. )
The only thing making this agony better, Kim Gaon - ( The impression of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. ) - is knowing I'll get to take you home after.
( there's a hint of a laugh, a breathless murmur as he tips his face up, rolling the length of his body up against yohan. it's not meant to be titillating as much as it is just for the luxury of feeling him there; there's no time to really play, and gaon's eager enough for the night to be over that teasing feels beyond him. this is something else, grounded, the way he's been so hungry for any scrap of contact. he just wants to be close.
he brings a hand in to run his fingers up the back of yohan's neck, to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place as he dips his chin and presses his lips to yohan's ear. )
I'm taking you home, remember? We won't have to drive nearly as far.
( The finest of shudders, only noticeable up close. Yohan's eyelashes dip, and then he hums a note out himself, voice gone quietly molten. )
All right, all right. Yours.
( There's a particular weight to the last word, though he immediately softens it by twisting to catch his mouth again, earnest with his devotion. It's a desperate little thing, his palms spread wide where they've found Gaon's body, against his spine and then dropping down to dip lower, over the curve of his ass in his nice suit trousers. If he squeezes a little meanly that's their own business, he's too busy making the most of these scant few moments they have. )
I can't believe I have to let you go back out there.
( he can't help but hitch his knee up a little against the outside of yohan's thigh, something caught square between a laugh and a groan muffled into yohan's mouth. he likes it so much: the touch, the attention. he hums a low protest, agreement with yohan's words, as his fingers slide forward to cup yohan's jaw. )
It's not that much longer.
( it's forever longer, he's just saying words to say them. if he wouldn't be obviously missed he would bail right now, disappear into the night with kang yohan never to be seen again. but it's also not as long as it's been for them apart already and it's only just enough to make it easier to break away from the kiss. )
Much more of you and I won't be able to go back without embarrassing myself.
The offer to knock over the ice sculpture is still there.
( Unfortunately though, Gaon is right. Yohan has to let him go. The sooner he does, the sooner the night might be over. Still, he presses another firm kiss to Gaon's smiling mouth, something quick and filthy before he forcibly pulls himself away again. The scant distance gives him the space to smooth his hands over Gaon's suit, careful with it, easing out any of the wrinkles left by his greed. )
Aish, so handsome. ( A laugh, broad palms against Gaon's chest. ) No wonder they want to eat you up.
( he lets the shelf take his weight, watching yohan through his lashes as he pulls him back to something near presentable. even being close like this feels like a luxury, to be allowed the privilege of seeing him in person, a real living thing without a screen between them. gaon reaches up and catches yohan by the chin, holds him steady for a moment just to look at him, and then a smile crinkles his eyes and he sways up away from the shelves to kiss him once more. politely. something with just a hint of promise for later. )
You're one to talk, Judge Kang. Don't think I don't see how they watch you.
( they should leave. someone will be looking for him soon. but he lingers instead, his fingers sliding down the front of yohan's throat to gently tug his tie back into place. it's clear he's stalling -- the last thing he wants right now is to go fawn over a bunch of wealthy politicians and business people. especially when yohan is right here. but, at least: )
I was. ( By the SRF's intent little secretary, but he pays her no mind. ) I think they're just impressed I've stuck around as long as I have. Little do they know my ulterior motive.
( He only goes to the parties that might earn him something, or the ones where showing his face has an end goal. This one isn't even really his scene, except he'd heard gossip about Gaon being there long before the younger man had mentioned it. It had been easy to say yes.
It's harder now. He's aware he's merely looking at Gaon, eyes soft and warm where they rest on his face. But eventually he sighs, overly dramatic. ) Once more unto the breach, mm? It'll be worth it.
( grumpy, playing into the game. he smooths over yohan's tie once more just for the sake of touching and, for good measure, reaches up to press his thumb against yohan's lips with a little quirk of his own.
but he pulls himself away then before the urge to stay put wins out again. he adjusts the button on his jacket, flashes yohan a quick smile over his shoulder, and regretfully slips out of the room as if he hadn't been up to anything questionable.
it's another while before he sees yohan again. he's rounded up as soon as he's found -- coming back from the bathrooms, you see -- and whisked away with the rest of them like the prizes they're attending as. it's not until they're brought into one of the center's private rooms, all clean lines and expensive furniture, and arrayed between people with a staggering accumulation of the nation's wealth and power, that gaon's eyes find yohan's again and he dips his head and shoulders in a polite bow the same as he does to everyone else as though they've hardly had the chance to meet. )
( He's tucked away in the corner, eyes immediately lifting when Gaon looks his way. For anyone who didn't know him well his expression does not change but there's a very minute lifting of the corner of his mouth, eyes flashing warmly for the briefest of seconds. Beside him, Pi Hyang-Mi leans in, loudly professing that the boys are just so handsome, Yohan's gaze flickering her way, but isn't Judge Kang feeling left out if there's no young women for him to look at. Whatever his reply is, it's murmured, he doesn't have the same volume as her. She laughs anyway, startled, turns to her more eager counterparts and leaving Yohan free to deliver the most withering of eyerolls Kim Gaon's way.
He'd like to text him again, maybe. But the room is too full now. And besides, he's sure it won't be too long until this is all done. )
( as much as gaon hates these parties, he has to take even the slightest wins. it's not often he's got someone unquestionably on his side in one of these, outside of the members of his group, and they're all too hemmed in by contractual expectations on behaviour to do more than commiserate later. he likes meeting yohan's eye across the room, likes the camaraderie in suffering. his own eyes are bright in return, right up until he's pushed down into a seat between a minster of something and someone in charge of something else and maybe only yohan can read the flash of laughing alarm when their gazes meet again.
it's all so much. such a game. he'd known this was involved when he'd gotten himself on this track but he never could have guessed that this was such a large part of it all. a broken system, but a system nonetheless.
the evening wears on. they're all passed around like trophies won and people get bolder the more champagne they help themselves to. someone ends up on his lap at one point and he meets yohan's eyes across the room, his own tired. he pours drinks for a group a while later, their glasses extended up to him, and he plays into it. he signs autographs for family members who are fans, takes photos whenever asked, and actually finds a moment of reprieve when he's tugged down to sit between kang yohan and his conversation partner and there is solace in the warmth of yohan's thigh pressed against his own, familiar in a sea of unwanted attention. )
Judge Kang. ( he dips his head in a polite bow when introduced, playing up just how newly acquainted they are. ) I've heard you're going to lead the country out of the dark. If anyone can do it, I'm sure you can.
( There's something at the corner of his mouth, a private kind of amusement that only the very knowledgeable will understand. Everyone else will only see it as mildly polite, possibly better behaved than usual, but nothing truly to note. He tips his head Gaon's way, a mirror. )
Ah, is that what they're saying now? That's much nicer than last week.
( It has the right effect. Chairman Park Du-Man starts heckling him from across the table, yelling about him lightening up. Nobody likes a scowling face, it makes for bad television. Yohan huffs out a laugh, thigh pressing more firmly against Gaon's own. ) Perhaps Kim-ssi can give me some tips? How do I make myself more approachable, mm?
( Possibly he's going to have to find some way to ruin the person who tugged Gaon down earlier, but at least the closeness is soothing. )
( this at least has a calmness to it. there's a certainty in yohan's physical presence and gaon feels decidedly less unmoored here where there's someone safe, while yohan takes attention onto him. all of the people in this room who look at him like they have designs on who he could be for them in private and gaon could so easily disappear into the night with the man beside him instead and not one of them knows anything about it.
he smiles, as polite and bland here as he has been all evening. there's a flicker of laughter in his eyes when he glances at yohan again, just barely perceptible. )
Ah, but judges are very intimidating. Have you considered a career change? People have no problem approaching singers.
( the slightest scrunch of his nose. the answer doesn't matter anyway, his name gets called from the other side of the table and his manager is already reaching for him. gaon lets himself be dragged away again for another introduction with a quick, apologetic nod to both yohan and the woman beside him. )
( He's gone too quick, though the lingering warmth against his thigh does something to soothe Yohan's vague irritation at the rest of the room. He does what he's supposed to either way, talks business when he should, is quietly, carefully disdainful to the people who want his opinion on other things, socialises like a dragon fly above a lake, there, but not quite. At some point the SRF secretary finds her way over to him, and Yohan does not know what to do with the piercing of her gaze, the way it is almost daring him to something. It doesn't matter. He upsets the Oceans Minister with a sharp little flyaway comment, then embarrasses one of the women hanging over the idols in a way that no one can object to, idly waiting until he can find Gaon and slip away.
It's dipping into the later hours when someone launches into a demand for drinks. Gaon slipping back into his orbit, close but not close enough. )
( he's ready to be done, he's ready to go. from the flight in early that morning all the way through to here and now feels like an eternity, several days blurring into one. he's had enough empty conversations to last a lifetime and somehow now it's harder knowing yohan is here, in the room? better than if he was elsewhere and gaon had to wonder what he was doing, but worse because all he wants is to leave. with him.
they're closer now, at the very least. opposite sides of the seating arrangement, on the fringe, only the table and propriety really between them. gaon is only half paying attention to the lady beside him, someone some kind of important, and instead he's watching the drinks circulate with a kind of dozing detachment, too aware and not at all paying attention. they're arranged specifically, all matching glasses. they're passed out to the dignitaries, to the guests. gaon is aware of someone lifting a drink off the tray from behind but doesn't think anything of it until it's returned to the tray just behind yohan's shoulder. he furrows his brow at it, curious, nodding distantly to the woman next to him as the man in the seat next to yohan's chair reaches for that glass and the server turns it away, passes him a different one, and then turns to yohan.
offers him the glass.
it takes longer than it should. he's too tired to be clever, but he's watching as yohan takes the glass and he's aware of someone behind the server, moving the other direction, and he doesn't think anyone would be stupid enough to try and pull something, especially against yohan? here? now? why? and yet. still.
someone he doesn't know is watching the glass in yohan's hand with the same intent gaon is and any thought of behaviour or reputation or expectation flies out the window when yohan lifts the glass to his mouth. he's moving before he thinks to, impulse before reason. it startles the woman beside him into a yelp that he only half hears as he scrambles across the end of the table and catches yohan by the wrist, spilling into his lap just to redirect the glass to his own mouth. he drinks it in two long swallows and only later will he realize that there were a half dozen other options to him that didn't involve drinking it. but for now he meets yohan's eyes as the room around them erupts into noise, only half-aware that he's on his knees sprawled between yohan's thighs and still holding tight enough to his wrist to leave a mark later. )
Gaon, on his knees and a hand around his wrist, the glass empty. The noise of the room is a scandalised coccophany, too loud and too close and Yohan's eyes are zipping over the younger man's face trying to divine a reason for it all. His gaze shifts from the panicked, desperate expression to the glass, tilting it just so. When he notices the faint residue those eyes snap back to Gaon's face again, briefly, momentarily panicked before his expression gets locked up behind a mask, a laugh rising from him, forced. )
Ai, I'd forgotten I owed you a drink, Kim-ssi. My mistake. Come here, sit up. ( Whoever is sitting beside Yohan moves instinctively, allowing him to tug Gaon up into the space. The glass he was holding gets dropped, Yohan kicks it under the table with one foot, hands vague as they resettle Gaon's jacket. ) For the autograph, yes? ( Conspiratorial, to a woman adjacent. ) My niece is a big fan. You know teenage girls. If I didn't ask she would have never spoken to me again.
( It's pleasant, cheerful. Damage control. Someone laughs, someone else mutters under their breath, and Yohan lets his attention jump from person to person, noting the upheaval. Who has left. Who hasn't. )
Are you all right?
( Still casual, but his mind is working a mile a minute. They need to get out of here, he knows that. Maybe the hospital? No. His doctor on call. Another glass gets placed to Yohan's arm. He ignores it. )
( he could have spilled it down yohan's suit. he could have knocked it out of his hand, played like he'd stumbled into him. he could have asked him a question or begged the drink out of his hand like a joke, a ploy, something catering to the whimsy of having a few idols at hand. this is his problem always, though: action without thought, movement without planning, doing and then figuring the rest of it out. he doesn't even fully know what he just did outside of the fact that yohan is doing his very best to save what little face gaon has left and he belatedly realizes he should play along. continue the bit.
he forces a laugh, ducks his head. a genuine flush pinks his cheeks and he bows a quick apology to anyone still paying attention, refusing to make eye contact with any of the other members of his group. )
I tripped over the table, I'm so sorry-- ( to the lady he'd been sitting beside, to the nearest neighbours. none of them have to take it as the truth but some of them will take some of it and that's all that really counts. he has to keep his knee from bouncing, nerves already flaring bright, and he turns towards yohan ready to offer him the deepest bow yet when the woman beside him leans in close, conspiratorial. )
I don't blame you. I'd throw myself at Judge Kang too if I thought I stood a chance. You're not the first.
( gaon chokes back a cough, looking back at her, and he can't tell if his face is hot because of what she's saying or something else. )
I'm not--
( she flashes him a bright smile, reaches to pull his tie back into place seemingly for an excuse to touch him. gaon sees her gaze turning past him, over his shoulder, to yohan. )
( Displeasure twists his mouth very briefly before it smooths away into something far more haughty and indifferent. ) When I find someone interesting enough to like I'm sure you'll all know about it.
( It is just catty enough that someone starts laughing, and another figure starts heckling, something about how cold he always is. He pays it no heed, gaze firmly settled on Gaon's flushed face, his wide, panicked eyes. There's something particularly awful about this, but he's not so blind to his own panic yet that he cannot think. Instead he lifts a hand, hovers it above Gaon's arm. )
Did you catch yourself on the table as you went down, Kim-ssi? I thought I heard a thud. Maybe you should make sure you're all right, mm? I can come with you if you'd like.
( Such a fuddy-duddy, he's fine, isn't he? He hears it, he ignores it. )
Maybe some water. It's very warm in here. And I know you're popular. You have a show tomorrow, don't you? ( He doesn't, but he doubts anyone here beyond Gaon's band members will correct him. Most of them have wandered far enough to do a different kind of damage control though. ) We wouldn't want to risk that. Why don't we step outside for a moment?
( he can't tell if he's just hyper-aware of their actions now or if he's not reading the situation correctly. he can feel the flush in his cheeks, hotter now, warming more than a drink alone should. he only just catches lee mingyu out of the corner of his eye, trying to get his attention, and gaon makes the tiniest face in his direction but waves him off, hand at his knee like he's brushing his pant leg clean.
he's fine, it's all fine. )
I'm fine.
( it's a bland smile when he turns back to yohan, polite for the sake of appearances. his stomach churns, anxious, but he's already made enough of a spectacle of himself -- of them -- that trying to leave together feels too obvious. is that the type of man kang yohan is? that he'd escort an idol out of a room like this? everything feels a little too slippery around the edges and when his eyes meet yohan's there's an obvious dilation in his pupils, even given the room's dimmed lighting.
he takes yohan's hand between his own and bobs a quick bow, thickly masked distance as a measure of protection. )
I appreciate you worrying about me, Judge Kang, but I'll be fine on my own.
( he assumes yohan will follow him regardless of what he says, if the look on his face is anything to go by. but gaon needs to get out of the room before he potentially loses the ability to do even that and he drops yohan's hand as he rises to his feet, bidding the rest of the room a hasty bow. maybe they'll assume he's embarrassed, it doesn't matter. his manager is watching him with narrowed eyes and he needs to get away before he can be cornered. )
Thank you for your time. ( ill-fitting, not at all up to standard. he can feel sweat prickling at his temples and under his nose and he doesn't offer anyone the opportunity to stop him from disappearing out through the door. )
( He watches Gaon go with his stomach roiling, irritation, and anger, and something a little like fear bubbling away inside his veins. He wants to move immediately, to follow the other man out of the door and get him as far away from here as possible. It would give them away too quickly. The younger man is trying to buy them face, he thinks, or time. Yohan has to wait. So he lifts his phone out of his pocket, angling it under the table top, fingers tapping away a message, posture relaxed. Someone tries to engage him in a conversation about the strangeness of the pretty little idol, and Yohan pretends to pay attention for a few moments, eyes deliberately warm on her face so that she leans in close.
She's drunk, knocks her purse onto the ground in her haste to hold his attention, and Yohan demurs quickly to fetch it for her, the gaping clasp spilling the contents everywhere. He stuffs mascara back into the bag, reaching for the dropped glass to slip it into his jacket, straightens up again with a laugh. ) It must be the night for it. Now, you were saying -.
( Predictably, his phone rings. Yohan answers it right then and there, thumb shifting the volume higher, Elijah's voice spilling out all in a rush. There's a bird! Or a bat! Kkomi bought it in, and I can't reach it. It keeps fluttering near my hair, and don't bats have rabies? ) Elijah. ( Voice soothing. ) I'll come home, don't panic. Go into the other room if you need to, yes I'm on my way, no, you won't start frothing at the mouth. I'll be there soon.
( She's disabled, he hears someone mutter to their companion as he rises, holding his jacket in such a way that the glass isn't obvious. He makes his way to the door without hurrying, strides even. Only when he's through and away does he reply. ) Okay, you can stop. I think my ear is ringing.
( You owe me. A new purse. Two! I was watching that new reality show-. ) Isn't it your bedtime? ( Distracted, his gaze sweeps down the hallways. ) Are you still going to be all right if I don't come home? ( Obviously, there wasn't even a bat. And I'll go to sleep soon. Where there too many pretty girls there? Did they make you nervous? Are you dating them? ) Elijah. I'll call you in the morning. ( Ya! Fine. I'm eating your chocolate anyway.
She hangs up just as quickly as she'd rang, and Yohan pockets his phone, picking the direction of the bathrooms in the hope he'll find Gaon somewhere along it. )
( the event space is mercifully empty now, save for the cleaning crew who glance at him as he passes but otherwise pay him no mind. the rest of the attendees must have been freed a while ago, turned back out into the city when their credentials weren't high enough to make it to the more important cloisters and gaon is too aware of the echoing smell of bodies, of too many people in a space. he should be used to that kind of thing but it's overwhelming here even as he takes the hall towards the bathrooms, separates himself from the main space.
he tugs restlessly at his tie, too aware of it tight around his throat. it's hard to breathe suddenly, even past the smell, and he trails a hand along the wall first for assurance and then for balance as a tremor starts in his knees.
he's not stupid. or, okay, in this instance he's a specific kind of stupid, but he knows that there was something in that drink intended for kang yohan. he'd drink it again, easily, no question, but there's a panic starting to build now in a way that's too distant to be safe. get out, get away: step one. and now what? it's getting harder to string thoughts together in any linear way. get out, get away, but how? the bathrooms are too obvious an answer, especially if someone he doesn't want to be found by comes looking. he gives the doors a long look and then stumbles past them to the next corner, around it, out of sight.
he slumps into the third alcove, a locked door to something he's too far gone to read, and fumbles his phone out of his pocket. his thumbs are too big to unlock his phone suddenly, his vision swims; it's getting harder to breathe and his face is so hot. squinting doesn't bring anything into focus. he messes up the lock screen again. of all the things he could have done, why this? why here and now? he laughs to himself, a little sob of a sound, and misses the lock a third time, a fourth before it locks him out for a count. he presses his forehead against the cool of the wall and works on just breathing, slow, in and out as the floor threatens to tilt under him.
if he passes out here someone will find him, surely. whether or not it's someone he wants to be found by is a question itself, but not one he can do anything about right now. )
( The bathrooms are empty. Yohan listens to the slam of each cubicle door reverberate and fishes his phone back out of his pocket. In the mirror he looks frantic, a strange mix of anger tinged at the edges with a panic he has not felt in a long time. There is something about it that makes him clumsy, the futile nature of it. Should he have been expecting something? Possibly. He's been making waves with the Live Court now, pushing into other people's spaces, showing his teeth. Of course they'd want to discredit him. And so Yohan knows he's let himself grow too lax. He hasn't felt like this since the last time Elijah had been taken, since before he tightened up all the weaker corners of his life to make sure nothing could go through. How could he let himself down like this?
Now he has, now he has to figure out a way to fix it.
He slams out of the bathroom just as quickly as he'd entered, thumb pressing a name on the screen and bringing it up to his ear. But there's no need. He hears it go off somewhere further down the corridor, steps hurrying him down, his shoes making a soft sound against the rich carpet. He turns, too fast, the hand holding his phone catching the wall. But there, slumped against a door -. ) Kim Gaon.
( Yohan is in front of him in seconds, phone on the ground so that both hands can curve around Gaon's face. He's sweaty, far too hot, and when he tilts the other man's face upwards he is entirely all pupil. )
I'm here, I'm here. You're okay now.
( He isn't. Yohan needs to get him out of here, and fast. He needs to find him a doctor, he needs to make this right. ) I've got you.
( it feels like an inevitability, standing on the precipice of something that's already pulling him over the ledge. he doesn't have a choice in where this is going. a wave washes in, crashes against his shins, up over his thighs, all heat and threat and he doesn't even realize that it's his own name that's echoing back at him until yohan's hands are already on him. he's slow to blink, even slower to let the little furrow of his brows deepen and then smooth away, his body understanding safety much quicker than his mind does. )
Hi.
( it's low, thick like syrup. the floor tips the other way suddenly and gaon's hands find yohan's forearms, fumbling to steady himself, and his own phone thumps to the floor. nausea rolls faintly in the background and he presses one of his cheeks further into yohan's hand, appreciating the cool press of skin against the feverish heat of his face. )
M'fine.
( he doesn't know why he says so, he knows he's not. his tongue feels too big for his mouth, his skin too tight. he arches up away from the door but then slumps back against it again, breathing hard, gripping yohan's arms tighter as a new bank of heat passes through him. )
Can you-- ( chin lifting, throat bobbing as he swallows, a shine of sweat on his skin as he palms at his tie, fingers unwieldy at the knot. ) Off?
( He has to let go of Gaon's face to do it, immediately undoing the top button and tugging the starched shape of his collar away. He's flushed underneath it, Yohan's fingers touching skin briefly before he undoes the knot of his tie, pulls it free, shoves the offending scrap of fabric into his pocket so the edges trail free. ) I need to get you out of here. We're going to get to the car, all right? I'll drive you, and then I'll call for someone to come and help.
( A doctor? K? He hasn't decided yet. He doesn't know what to focus on, beyond the need for a swift escape, his own stomach rolling with terrible nausea, the guilt of it stretching. It was intended for him, after all. He knows what Gaon's lunge across the space meant. And he'd been distracted, he probably would have drank without thinking about it, too many spinning plates and a pretty diversion in the corner of his vision. )
Can you stand?
( It feels like a ticking clock. He needs to get Gaon up, and get him out, before anyone else falls upon them. But he doesn't look in any state to move, and that's worrying. )
I'll help you, you can lean on me. Just to the car, and then it will be quiet, and safe.
( it's better without the tie, easier to breathe. yohan's fingers feel a bit like they might have bruised him in the process but that's okay, he can deal with it later when he's not spiraling out of his own skin. words filter in, pieces of sounds that he knows in a larger context, and he can't help but laugh, a bubbling, weighty thing. he can stand. he can do more than stand. nothing is wrong with him at all. )
I can walk. ( they're barely words, sounds slurring together. he runs his fingers down to the bend of yohan's elbows and then back up to curl around his wrists, turning his face up to him with a beatific smile that only lasts for a half-breath before he grunts and folds in on himself. yohan's in the way, though, and he presses his forehead into yohan's shoulder with a low groan, stomach twisting in on itself.
it eases after a moment. he pants against yohan's suit as a new wave of something rises, turns his face into yohan's neck with a wet breath. he still smells good, which isn't helping anything right now. )
Take me home. ( low, heated with an intent to it that isn't remotely appropriate to the current circumstances. )
Anxiety spikes, but Yohan does his best to pay it little heed, instead he wraps an arm around Gaon's waist and pulls the other man up with him. It's a process. For all Gaon's assurance that he can walk he's more boneless than usual, and Yohan has to use the wall to get his arm safely around him, hugging him close. )
Remember you have feet.
( It's mild, a murmur. His hand is against Gaon's waist, the shirt bunched up under his fingertips. He feels too hot through the fabric, already damp with sweat. It's enough to make Yohan want to turn back around and find someone's throat to wrap his fingers around, but that's a thought for another time. ) We'll have to cut through the back. I don't think you want to leave via the front door. Do you think you can stay conscious for me, Gaon-ah?
( A step, he's taking more of the younger man's weight, trying to ease them into movement. )
( it's hard to coordinate anything. his body won't respond when he tells it to, but he likes yohan's arm around him enough that it keeps his attention focused and between them they find some ground, some footing. little pulses ripple up his thighs and there's a strange disconnect that slows them to a halt after only a couple of fumbling steps where gaon has to lean too far forward to see his shoes because he can't feel the point where his foot meets the floor. like his legs are asleep, fuzzy, senses muffled. )
Yohan-ah.
( he tips back towards yohan, brows knit as they stumble a little. he'd meant to say something, to explain the trouble, but it's like the swing in focus takes all of his attention with it and suddenly all he's aware of is the line of yohan's body pressed all along his own. it sends a shiver through him, eyes heavy-lidded and intent on the hook of yohan's jaw, just right there, the hint of his throat peeking above his collar-- )
Yohan-ah.
( his fingers twist into the front of yohan's jacket, dragging all the clean, proper lines into disorder as he tries to pull him around to get a better look at him, mouth open with each heavy breath. )
Aren't you hot? Take this off. Let me take it off.
( He's losing precious time. Gaon's clumsy grasping does not bother him, not really. He tries to pull Yohan to face him and all the older man can do is tighten his grip instead, forging forwards even with their clumsy footwork. ) In the car, Kim Gaon.
( The corridor is empty, but that could change. Yohan doesn't currently have all the faculties to keep an eye on everything that might happen around them, his attention is all focused on Gaon, the heat leaking through his clothing, the thickness of his voice, each too fast breath. At some point in the future he might want to have a conversation with someone about why they have to even attend these kinds of parties, and how the hell anyone let Gaon out all by himself, but for now the lack of attention works in his favour. He doesn't think anyone on Gaon's idol side of this even knows about him. )
There's a conference room through here. A second exit. We'll get through there.
( Shoulder shoving the door open, their uncoordinated stance causing the door to bang off the wall too loud, an echo. )
Are you feeling sick? If you are you have to tell me.
( even the noise he makes is off: wounded still as yohan shrugs him off, but deeper than normal, a sound crawling up out of his belly. a private sound. a sound that shouldn't happen outside of the bedroom.
there isn't even really enough of him left to be aware of what's happening to him, no backseat understanding, watching without being able to stop it. he's all impulse and drive now and it's only yohan's effort that's keeping him from doing much worse. the motion of movement keeps him from stringing thoughts together and it all comes in flashes instead, a faint understanding of the spaces they're passing through. there's yohan's body and the change in air from one room to the next and he swears he can hear yohan's pulse under his skin and he nearly trips them into one the chairs tucked under the conference room table when he grabs at the buttons on his own shirt, dragging the top two open with a gust of a breath. )
You're sick. ( his head sways back on his neck and he laughs, breathing in harsh little pants towards the ceiling. ) Are you taking me home? Take me home. Judge Kang, take me home?
( Yohan curses under his breath, a quiet, quick thing before he twists until they're facing each other, other hand reaching out to curb Gaon's frantic ones by wrapping fingers around his wrist. Underneath Yohan's touch, Gaon's pulse is rabbit fast, his skin burning. His eyes are far too unfocused and glassy, temples shiny with sweat, his mouth parted on each breath. He looks a mess. )
Gaon-ah. ( Soft, but firm, he's sure he'll be forgiven for talking to him like a child later. Or maybe not, considering this is his fault. ) I know it hurts. But I need to keep you in one piece. I'm going to get you out of here, I'm going to take care of you. Just trust me, all right? The car is five minutes. We can do five minutes.
( Can he? The space is closed in, but it's wide and Yohan did not park close to the doors. He tightens his grip anyway, tugging Gaon as close as he can again. Even he is sweating by now, the heat off of the other man's skin an inferno. He wishes, briefly, that he had several more hands. He needs to call someone. )
See, there's the door. Out there and to the left and we'll be out of the building. It's easy. You're going to be fine, all right? I've got you.
Elijah would like to know whether the new cds have an unfair distribution in their photo cards. She's pulled three Smug Bastards in a row and will now be directly boosting your sales until she can find her bias.
( Mostly because Yohan snagged the spare Gaon she didn't want. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sagikkun ⬎
No. I'm more concerned about the consequences once you've sobered up afterwards.
🥰
:*
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( His trust, hard won but absolute. )
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unbrilliant ⬎
I can make nachos.
Or, actually. I could go get the things to make nachos and then make nachos? I do have stew but stew isn't nachos.
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[ Look, he doesn't get the chance to eat good food a lot. ]
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spicier then better
it's been a little while since i've done spicy though
this can be a welcome back for me.
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no shortcuts for me
i want it spicy
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i whine.
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whining is just making stupid sounds.
[ Well, that's his opinion, at least. ]
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Maybe.
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cuz i know i'd make fun of you if you made the dumb noises.
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not really my thing
i can't tie a tie either
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maybe i'll work on convincing you to try something else other than a suit
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Are you coming for stew?
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i can be there in a few minutes.
drops them in somewhere, america
( of all the things his parents could have left him, he's glad for the cooking. a simple thing, but meaningful. useful. jjigae are one of the things he's especially good at now, a staple, made from muscle memory now more than actual thought. it's not nachos, but he's got a bunch of sides to add to it so it's nacho adjacent? sure. why not.
he's flipped the light on at the top of the stairs that lead to his place, the door just beyond a veritable gauntlet of plants in pots. he's left the door open a couple inches and while it's not a nice neighbourhood, it'll be fine. )
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that's why he's so confident about spice. even if it was the hottest spice in the world, he'd feel it but it wouldn't kill him. plus, he's hungry.
when he arrives, he nudges the door open with his toe and peers inside. )
You in here? Wearing a suit while you cook?
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( he's not, actually. off-duty and everything. his voice carries from the kitchen in the back of the apartment but the smell of the pot of jjigae fills the whole place. it's mostly just kimchi at this point. )
Shoes off?
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( jed stops moving and crouches down to unlace his boots. he pulls them off and sets them neatly by the door. thankfully, his socks don't have holes in them. )
Shoes are off, I promise.
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( old habits, hard to shake. there are a couple pairs of spare slides, an obvious one-size-fits-all approach to house shoes. )
Do you eat meat or no?
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I eat meat, yeah. I tried to be a vegetarian a few years ago and I lasted an hour.
( womp womp. )
But I tried.
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Okay, good, because I don't have much otherwise if you didn't. What pulled you back?
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( he shrugs a shoulder. it hadn't been for any deep reason. just convenience. )
Plus, I don't think I could have gone through life just eating greens.
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( he tips the scallions into the stew and pulls a couple of bowls down out of a cupboard, filling each of them liberally with rice from the cooker in the corner. he slides one across the counter for jed. )
Nachos might have done it for me. With the beef? Sit.
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( he finds a chair and slides into it, stretching his legs out and leaning back. )
You always known how to cook?
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( he hums the agreement to himself and brings first a hot pad and then the pot off the stove, still simmering. it's rich with kimchi, pork belly, and tofu and he spoons a generous helping of it over jed's rice without really asking. )
My parents owned a restaurant. I grew up in it.
( he portions some over his own rice and returns the pot to the stove, pulls a couple of containers out with fresh pickled cucumbers and blanched spinach. )
Do you cook?
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( he's pretty sure that doesn't count though. so, he shrugs. )
Not really something I've ever learned how to do. I can heat things up and set timers. But from scratch? No way.
feeds this boy
We're all products of what we grew up in. Nothing wrong with that. Do you drink? I have beer or orange juice or water.
growing boy needs h
( he definitely drinks. sometimes, more than he should for the wrong reasons. right now, he's more focused on the food though he does give a little huff of a laugh to the bowls. )
Orange juice sounds good. Can't remember the last time I had that.
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You're eating korean, you get all the sides, too. It's a rule. Eat.
( bossy, but polite about it. kinda. well-intentioned, anyway.
he pulls a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge and pours each of them a glass. there's no chair on his side of the counter but he perches a hip against the edge of it like he doesn't sit down for a lot of his meals and pulls his own bowl closer. )
I don't have milk, though, so if it's too spicy you're out of luck.
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( he'll know it's spicy but any pain or anything like that isn't going to be an issue. so, hotter the better. )
Iron stomach.
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it's only belatedly that the words really sink in. he's got a loaded spoonful halfway to his mouth when he looks up again. )
Wait, what do you mean you won't feel it?
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( he said it so casually, almost like an afterthought, and figured it wouldn't be questioned. it was just a thing for him. )
I kind of...don't feel things. Physically. Pain things.
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...Just pain things? Do you feel other things?
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( that's how this whole mess had started in the first place. he makes a face. )
So, I don't know. Are you talking about like hugs and shit like that?
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( he watches him, head tipping, not all the way into curious but close to something like it. more open. )
You still have a sense of touch? Or is that gone?
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( he reaches out and taps against the counter like that proves something before shrugging. )
It's kind of a weird thing. Shit happened when I was younger and it all just led up to me not being able to feel pain and stuff.
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I guess that's...useful?
( is it? that's a weird thing to say. and still he leans into it. )
Do you miss it?
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( he hasn't allowed himself much time to think about it, honestly. jed shrugs a shoulder and rubs the back of his neck. )
Guess maybe. If I end up being stabbed, I wouldn't even realize it despite the fact that I'd still bleed and shit. That might be not a good thing.
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So what, you just spend the rest of your life being extra careful all of the time? Or the opposite?
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( so he doesn't do that bleeding out thing. )
It's why I tend to keep to myself. If I stab myself, I deserve whatever happens.
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Deserve it how?
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( jed shrugs. )
I didn't do this to myself but I gotta live with it. Adapt. All that positive adaptability bullshit.
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At least if you stub your toe in the middle of the night you only have to worry about it being broken?
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( though, that does mean he's going to be cursed with crooked toes for the rest of his life. )
I didn't get this way because of something I did. Well, not really. I know you're thinking about it now.
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( his attention is back on his food but mostly for show, giving space. he's considering the information he's been given and how it fits into what he knows, but when his eyes lift again he's concerned. )
I didn't think that at all. Sometimes things just happen and it's nothing to do with what we did.
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( he says it hastily, cheeks a little red that maybe he'd just said too much. he shakes his head. )
Anyway, it's a thing, not important. Food's more important.
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Eat. There's plenty of time for regrets later.
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( he says it almost shyly, reaching for his utensil to get himself a bite. )
Smells good. Looks good. Much better than the glop I make myself.
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( a quick smile, only slightly pointed. no real judgement. there are worse crimes to worry about in the world. )
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( it was something to aspire towards. )
Maybe I'll steal something for you to cook next time. Contribute a little.
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( he gestures vaguely at his bowl, laughing. )
This is easy food. A nice steak, maybe?
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( definitely wouldn't be the hardest thing he's ever taken. )
As long as you don't do that well done shit with your steak.
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( he plays defensive well enough. what if he did like steaks fully cooked, what then?? but there's enough of a laugh at the corners of his eyes to give him away. )
I like my meat dry and tough.
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( he's not going to hold onto that too much but he's going to argue lightly. )
It'll tear your teeth out and tastes like charcoal.
namwho ⬎
If you want good snacks then they'd better buy me more than a couple of hours.
sagikkun ⬎
Are you trying to keep tabs on me? Is K following me?
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I'm not following you either. I'm just a little concerned is all.
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( no he doesn't. )
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Should I send K to find you?
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( leave k out of this. )
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You're sounding a lot like Elijah, do you know that?
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( he wasn't mad to start. he's not actually mad now. it just suits the mood. )
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You're behaving uncharacteristically.
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Do what you want then, just don't get into trouble.
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( uh huh. )
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I'm sorry that you can't recognise good craftsmanship.
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( we may have found our way to somaek now. )
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What does that mean?
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You have a tendency to throw yourself at danger rather than away, Kim Gaon. The fact that you're calling me is proof enough.
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You think you're that dangerous?
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( It doesn't settle any of his anxiety the way either of them would have liked. A part of him knows how he reacts to spite, and the fact that he does not immediately put distance between himself and the vitriol says more than he'd like. )
I know what I am.
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( it comes immediately, a little rushed. he doesn't know what he's after but he'd downed a beer once he'd sat like it might soothe some of the barbs in his mood and now he's even more amped up. looking for a fight. he's already got another drink on the way. )
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I'm not going to spell it out. It's not my fault you waver on how you see me.
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[ a barb? pointed. contradictory to everything else he's said, probably, but he doesn't care. ]
How do you see me?
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( Sharp, to hide the worry. )
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( Almost too quiet against the sound of the car. )
Or are you lashing out?
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That's not what I want.
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Good. All right. You can be angry all you like, as long as you're honest about it.
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( petty for the sake of it, but there's truth in there too. he doesn't know whether it's meant to be barbed or genuine, but it's probably both at the same time. )
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( He might be. Then again, he might not be. These things are never sure with Kang Yohan. He wants to know exactly what Gaon is thinking. )
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You can't use honesty as a trump card.
( he huffs a breath. he knows better than this. who is he to yohan anyway? )
Don't play games with it.
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( Games are a part of Kang Yohan's life, his very dna. He has never managed to stop playing them. And more protests that he is trying would fall on deaf ears, he thinks. )
Anything I do has a reason. That's all I can say.
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I want to be able to trust you.
( something that's not quite a request, softened at the edges by alcohol. a goal. something to work towards. )
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What comes out instead is -. ) I want to be something you can. I suppose we'll both have to be creatures of longing.
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Good night, Judge Kang.
( he's trying for goodbye. some kind of finality. a little slurred at the edges, just the wrong side of fond. )
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( A little hard-edged, but what can you do? )
Make her take you home. If you don't I'll have K tail you from here to eternity, Kim Gaon, and he's very busy. And if I send him he will drag you out of there. Whether you like it or not.
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I believe I still have the right to conduct myself as I see fit, Judge Kang? Without interference. I'm allowed a night out.
( ...recent events notwithstanding. )
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( Sharp with reprimand, concern all edged. )
I'm not saying you can't. I'm only saying make sure you have a way home that doesn't end up in someone deciding to take advantage of a drunk judge firmly in the public eye. I'm not being unreasonable.
( He might be, considering he's going to pull over to call K immediately either way. )
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he opens his mouth to answer, not realizing what he's about to say. )
I don't want to call her.
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( The car pulls out of the road, careful, sliding into an available place so he can wait. )
You have to be sensible now, Kim Gaon. You wouldn't be the only person hurt if anything happened to you. You've made Elijah like you, and if she cries I'll make your life miserable.
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a heavy sigh, but it's acquiescence. )
Don't call K. God knows what you've got him doing.
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( Trying a little bit of a middle ground. )
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You're close already, aren't you?
( he at least has the decency to tip the phone away when he calls for another somaek. )
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( Half amused, half deeply frustrated. It's the flavour of the day when it comes to Kim Gaon. )
Will I have to pour you into the car?
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That depends on how long it takes you to get here.
( they swap his drink out for a fresh one and he has to ask the man for the name of the place to finally feed it down the phone to yohan. )
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( He hangs up, dismissive, once he has what he needs. Probably so that Kim Gaon will not hear the way the engine revs or the tyres squeal, his car doing a 180 on the reasonably busy roads. True to his word though, it does take ten minutes - and if he gets a ticket he'll make Kim Gaon suffer for it later. Yohan strides into the place like a man on a mission either way, frown between his brows, domineering aura very much in tact. It's to hide the concerned clench of his jaw, but that's fine, actually. He is still pissed about it.
It's easy enough to find Kim Gaon, but instead of his desire to just yank the man from his seat - too many witnesses - he merely comes to a halt at his right, )
Well?
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he watches yohan in the window as he takes a slow sip of his half-finished drink, ignoring the actual version beside him with the sort of petty spite that surfaces with just enough alcohol. he hums into the rim of his glass, almost companionable. )
Well what?
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( If they were alone this would be easier. Yohan would simply drag him from his stool with single-minded intent, hands too mean to cover up any lingering concern that might still reside. He prefers the rage to it, either way. It blooms fouler the more he looks at Gaon, tired, and wan, and considerably drunk, slumped on the countertop and ignoring Kang Yohan.
It's a problem with no solution he can find, which means he's frustrated. )
I have things to do this evening, I don't need to add babysitting to it.
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( never mind they've been over this, never mind kang yohan can't. he takes another considering sip before he slowly turns his head just far enough to peer up at yohan through his fringe. he is decidedly inebriated considering how little he usually drinks and he watches yohan's face as he swallows another mouthful, petty, eyebrows slowly raising as if in challenge. )
Sit. ( he gestures to the stool beside him. ) Have a drink.
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( Through gritted teeth, as though he is some paragon of virtue, jaw clenching. Whatever this is, whatever is happening, he can play along as much as he needs to. All that really matters is getting Kim Gaon out of here without incident. He can be angry at him later. Therefore, the enraged shape of his hands get tucked into his suit pants, and Yohan's most venomous smile slips across his features, sharply pleasant, as opaque as the thickest of masks. ) I do hope Judge Kim is not suggesting I break the law simply because he's in a bad mood.
( Head tipping, voice dropping low like a secret. )
Be grateful I'm letting him finish his, instead of throwing it somewhere. But don't test me, mm?
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Aish.
( he lets his nose scrunch, his face folding as he sways away from yohan. he considers taking his time with what's left of his drink but when he tips the glass back he empties it in a couple of long swallows instead and plants it back on the bar, licking what's left off his lower lip. he ignores yohan still as he leans across the counter to call for the man to bring his bill, only just fighting back the urge to order another drink just to see what colour yohan might turn in trying to play civil. )
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The bill arrives, Gaon too uncoordinated to reach it first. It means Yohan sees the price and selects the bills with practise ease, a hefty enough tip to soothe over the ragged edges of his presence added without much thought. He dumps everything on the bar top and then takes a step back, giving room. )
Come on.
( Logically he knows he's being unfair. He has continued to use Kim Gaon like a pawn piece, shifting him across the cavernous board without ( much ) thought for his feelings - but then, haven't they both been overstepping boundaries? Hasn't' this man swept into his life with all the force of a hurricane, disturbing the very careful plans Yohan has gathered around him? Doesn't this street go both ways? He glances back at Gaon, eyes dark. )
Can you stand?
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I'm fine.
( voice hot, leaning into irritated. he's barely slept, hasn't eaten, is three somaeks down in fairly quick succession--he glares at yohan and promptly stumbles on his first step.
he's just as quick to brush yohan's hands away, shrugging him off with a rougher, quieter, ) I'm fine, ( and he is, too, cutting through the bar with a surety fueled solely by the obstinate need for autonomy.
and then he stumbles shoulder first into the doorjamb, only just catching himself on the fence outside. )
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At least outside they blend with the crowds, Yohan does not let up on his grip. )
The car's this way.
( It sits, tucked, in a singular space just on the edge of the street. Yohan pulls Gaon along like a misbehaved child, knowing full well that his grip might be punishing. That's fine, that's deserved. ) If you throw up in it I will kill you.
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I'm not gonna throw up--
( there's a kind of joy in his petulance, something freeing about having someone dependable to take charge. it means he doesn't have to be on guard anymore and arguing for the sake of being contrary is good enough reason alone even if he's pretty sure he has ample reason to argue with kang yohan about any subject at this point.
he slumps back against the side of the vehicle, twisting his arm out of yohan's grasp once he's got something else solid to settle against, and squints up the street as he struggles to get his hands into the pockets of his coat. )
We could get a drink still, there's a place up there.
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When your lack of self-preservation is no longer detrimental to me you can have any number of drinks you want, but for now you're going to get in the car, Judge Kim.
( The fact that it is, the fact that he's here, rankles on him a bit. He's aware of himself to know that much of this has little to do with any of his plans, that there's no reason for him to come and fetch the other man away from his own self-inflicted pity party. He could have let him be, kept on down several of his other paths. His scheming would have been successful either way. But he sees his fingerprints all over this, and considering everything that has happened between them lately he -.
What? Cares?
A muffled curse, Yohan holding the door with one hand, blocking Gaon's escape with his body. He's tired. ) We can finish this at home.
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Woww. ( he draws it out, reaching with a clumsy hand to tug at the lapel of yohan's coat, shoulder blades settling against the car. he's angry in a way he can't quantify, a deep-rooted well of closed up rage at too many different things that he's not allowed to touch, and here he can feel it pushing at his edges, testing the bounds with someone who shouldn't be safe and yet is? somehow? he pushes at yohan's chest only just enough to get a sense of how difficult a fight it might be to get past him. how sturdy he's decided to be. )You're so eager to take me home again? Bujangnim.
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In, Kim Gaon. Or I'll throw you in the backseat and let the journey rattle some sense into that pickled brain of yours.
( A hand lifts, knocks aside the fingers pressing into his lapel. His own moves to shove against a shoulder. Nobody is paying them any mind, the street busy with noise. Yohan leans forward a little, a glint in his eye caught by the streetlight. )
Don't think I won't.
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he leverages himself against the door, getting up as close to yohan as he's able all the while trying to twist himself free, as if there's any hope of pushing through, getting past, breaking away. yohan's close enough already that he can feel the heat off his skin; gaon huffs a breath in his face.
would anyone intervene if he shouted for help? what kind of spectacle could he create? it's a testament to something beyond him right now that he lets this stay contained, quiet, an outburst solely for yohan's enjoyment. )
You can't make me, Judge Kang. This isn't work.
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( Sharp, bitter with it. He can almost see the way Gaon is calculating his trajectory. He's drunk enough that his face betrays him, genuine shifts in his expression as he looks for a way out. Yohan lets out a snarled breath, hand in the meat under his armpit as he yanks him back away from the car. When Gaon stumbles he tugs open the back door, and in one swift moment he has a hand over the base of the other man's skull, ducking his head to shove him into the seats. It's an awkward stumble, but Gaon is inebriated, and Yohan - once he's sure he won't brain himself - gathers his legs and pushes. The door closes neatly behind him, the front slammed in echo and Yohan making his way around the other side.
He slams into the driver seat, yanks the door behind him, fingers flicking the lock. )
Put your seatbelt on.
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Fuck-- ( as yohan's door shuts.
he slumps back haphazardly against the seat, stomach lurching. he's lightheaded enough to distract him from the anger and he lets out an uneasy breath as he settles for the moment, sprawled inelegantly across most of the backseat. he pinches his brow, waiting for it to pass. )
You put yours on. ( he throws it forward anyway, aimless, contrary because he must. ) Drive safe.
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Seatbelt.
( He's a little more careful as they navigate the street, but the minute he's free onto the highway there'll be no holds barred. It might help simmer some of the rage out, uncaring about his hassled passenger. )
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he doesn't drink like this often enough to have built up any kind of defense against it. the last drink is working its way through his bloodstream, overwarming him from the inside-out and he decides that he absolutely needs to get his coat off. it's maybe not obvious at first, what he's trying to do. the closed confines of the backseat don't give him a lot of room to get his first arm free but he manages it with his teeth on the cuff of his sleeve and a mean, pleased grin at yohan in the rearview mirror when their eyes meet. )
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Haven't you been naked in my car enough?
( Says the man who regularly insinuates otherwise, but that mean smirk makes him want to act a certain way, and since he can't just toss Gaon around like a weak little kitten right now, then it's verbal punches for the foreseeable. ) Look at yourself, Kim Gaon. Is this really your best thought?
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unfortunately, belatedly, he realizes he's been asked a question. )
Is what my what?
( helpful. so helpful. he's remembered his phone at this point and his attention swings away from yohan again to try to figure out which pocket it ended up in. )
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You don't strike me as the type to recklessly drown your sorrows.
( Deceptively light, considering Yohan is still very much in a mood, his body radiating irritation. )
What's the occasion?
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coordination isn't his strong suit right now. the phone lands on the seat and then immediately slips into the footwell and gaon doesn't think twice before he follows after it. it takes three tries to lever himself back up and instead of the backseat he ends up propped on the side of yohan's seat, cheek pillowed just below the headrest, eyes on the road ahead. )
Where are we going?
( yohan hadn't asked a question, had he? )
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( His, as bitter as the word comes out. ) Because someone has to keep an eye on you. Sit back.
( He's drunk, Yohan knows that drunk people are often stupid, but he doesn't quite feel like giving Gaon an out for his behaviour. He wants to sit in the barely contained fury a little longer, stomach tight with irritated acid, his knuckles still white on the wheel. He can almost see Gaon out of the corner of his eye, a fact that has Yohan's jaw clenching tighter, teeth scraping. The violence in him is not surprising, but he doesn't really know what to do with it either way. )
I told Elijah I'd be back. You better sober up on the drive. Close your eyes, think very hard.
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some of his awareness seems to be filtering back into place, the drink slowly leeching further into his system. part of why he doesn't often drink usually comes down to not knowing what kind of drunk will surface. inevitably it seems to be one that gets him in trouble if not properly contained by
soohyunappropriate forces. opens up old wounds. presses into the valleys of himself he's barred from. )Should you be speeding?
( eyes on the speedometer now. yohan's seat bows a little as gaon pushes towards the side of the passenger seat, his elbow on the console between so he can pillow his chin in his hand and get a better view of yohan's profile. )
Aish, you're so upset. Look at you.
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I'm in control. ( The unlike you unheard but still pointed. Gaon's attention on him is a strange distraction, one Yohan can't simply ignore like he does everything else. He can feel the weight of his hand pressed up against the side of his seat, smell the drink. ) Stop looking. Sit back. Do you want to cause an accident?
( Knowing Gaon? Possibly. )
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( he doesn't sit back. some of it is spite. mostly it's because the direction washes over him without attaching to anything. he studies the side of yohan's face, the sharp clench of his jaw, the temper pulsing in his temple and a smile spreads across his own face, pleased and indulgent. )
You were worried about me.
( he frames it like an accusation. )
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( A rude, guttural noise at the back of his throat, gaze cutting downwards before it's back on the road. )
I just don't want to have to bring another associate to heel, Kim Gaon, don't get ahead of yourself. ( Worried? Yes. He's not sure he likes that. That Gaon is deep enough to be something he gets concerned about. He'd like to tell himself the same thing, work related, scheme related, but it falls flat to himself too. So instead he aims the sharp edge of his elbow Gaon's way in a feint, irritated. ) Idiot.
( Sucking his teeth, settling back to try and focus. )
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he leans up between the seats in one fluid motion to twist the volume button on the radio up. )
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I need to concentrate.
( Not actively, not in any way that the radio might dissuade him from. But there's something small and petty lodged like a stone in his throat, an irritation he can't clear. Letting Gaon have his way would only worsen it. )
You're not a child, Judge Kim. Surely you know how to sit still and be good?
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he sighs heavily to himself at the loss. the quiet isn't bad. he hadn't noticed it until realizing there was an option otherwise. now he's annoyed at the silence, at kang yohan's mood. the urge to fight rises up in him again, to point out that he hadn't asked for any of this, but he stills it with the clench of his jaw and forces himself to retreat back into the backseat. )
Why were you in the city anyway? Shouldn't you have been home already?
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( Soul-crushing, miserable things. This should feel like a reprieve - and he supposes it is. His anger feels more formed here. He can be mad at a specific source instead of the ceaseless, unfathomable other that he has to mire himself in. )
You may be able to mentally clock out at the end of the day but some of us don't have that luxury.
( Unkind, and he knows it. It's not Kim Gaon's fault that so much of Yohan's life is spent with his fingers teasing out the web. His shoulders twitch, and then he reaches out, turns the radio back on. It's still quiet, low enough that it won't really help, it just adds a jaunty little backdrop to the simmering rage. )
interrupts him for u
( it comes out louder than he means it to, a shotgun blast of a new and sudden frustration. kang yohan is picking fights, whatever this mood of his is, and gaon isn't anywhere close to sober enough to rein himself in. under other circumstances the radio might have been enough to soothe over some rough edges, but instead gaon is up with his hands on both seats this time, far enough forward that he can get in yohan's face about it. )
You think I just go home and pretend like everything isn't terrible all of the time? That I don't have work that I do? Just because not all of us can be as big and full of secrets as Kang Yohan--
he's going to PUT THEM BOTH OFF THE ROAD
( His gaze is wild and dark when he lifts it to the wingmirror, and it is a very good thing that the road ahead has emptied out now they're heading out of the city, because he is paying attention to the man instead. His voice creeps ever higher, the rumbling of a storm. )
My secrets are an actual attempt to change things for the better. If you don't cut away the rot then it persists. If you don't treat it with a firm fucking hand it will grow back. At least I'm doing something beyond blithely pretending that hoping very hard will do anything.
MAYBE HE SHOULD
( he laughs and it's too loud for the confines of the vehicle, echoes off all the panels and glass. )
I'm so glad! Good for you! It must be so hard to be wealthy and not have to worry about anything granular. Surely there aren't systems in place to deal with shit like that, right? Or you just know better? Is that it?
( he's kept his hands to himself, at least. aware of the road to some degree. )
No one can fix it, but Kang Yohan is here to save us.
RIP THE REST OF DEVIL JUDGE they're dead
( It comes out bullet fast, almost frantic, the sharpness of the words cutting. His hands slide against the wheel, changing lanes a little too quick, shoulders tight with tension and that old oil slick rage sloshing behind the back of his throat. )
Do you not think I haven't worked within the channels set out for me, Kim Gaon? Do you believe that I haven't exhausted every single avenue before now? That I haven't tried exactly as you'd want me to? ( His wealth, his power, none of it holds against those who have more. Yohan has had to be careful, he has had to be sly, and scheming, desperately keeping himself two, three steps ahead because if he stops for even a second it will all be for nothing. Everything he's made himself into, refusing to bear fruit. ) The people we're up against don't care for morality. They won't stop long enough for us to figure out a safe, palatable way of doing things. So yes, I do know better.
( His hands ache. He cannot lift them from the wheel. )
The sooner you realise that, the better. There is no room for virtue here.
u know what maybe its for the best
maybe not the best time for it. )
Then what's the point?
( it's quiet. so fucking quiet, brimming with the heat of all the things he has keep forced down under his tongue. )
What's the fucking point of any of it? If they've fucking got control of everything then why bother with anything?
( his hands are fists against the seats. an ugly scoff tears out of him and he pushes back into the backseat again, which only makes him louder. is this how the world works? this is all there is to it? people like them and people like kang yohan, warring with each other while everyone else suffers? )
If there's no room for virtue then what's the fucking point?
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( Equally as quiet, but less angry this time. )
There is no room for growth now, Kim Gaon. The weeds have taken root, they consume without cause for concern, starving the rest of the people of the things they need. It doesn't matter to the weed. The weed will always survive. But if someone comes along, someone with a firm grip, someone who can uproot them one by one, pull them out at the radicle? Then that could be enough. It has to be enough. And I am sorry that you notice them now. It's hard to keep going when you see how much of the garden they have taken over. ( Wry, because this is a framing Gaon knows well. He wonders if the other man lets his bleeding heart sympathise with the things in his collection he must cut out, too. ) But if you give up it gets worse. If you let go, the whole thing gets subsumed.
( Off the highway now, speed still high. )
And I don't have that luxury. ( Finite, his gaze lifting to the mirror, to Gaon's furious face in it. ) And I think, now that you see it, you don't have the heart to step back either.
sorry it's too early gaon can't buy in
as good as the analogy is -- and gaon knows weeds, understands that yohan is trying to make him see in a language he speaks -- it's hollow. grandiose, almost. sure, kang yohan has been at the wrong end of terrible hands but who hasn't? loss is a part of life and drunk like this all gaon hears is the way kang yohan thinks he's clever. )
You're angry because they hurt you and now you want to get even. That's not justice. That's revenge. And you just have the means to accomplish it.
( he's up between the seats again now, really, properly angry. not at yohan specifically, though that's forefront, that's the target. but at the fact that yohan might be right and that that's even worse. )
Lie to yourself all you want but we both know this is all for you.
weh he's so mean ( valid )
It is. And I do.
( Easy, conversational. There's very little point in revealing more of himself now, the raw grief that still rests inside of him, deep enough now that he thinks it's in his DNA. He could tell Kim Gaon other things, but it isn't time yet. Yohan doesn't know if what's been blooming is trust, or something stupidly like want. He doesn't know if he's so desperate for someone to understand him that he'd foolishly place it firmly in the hands of someone who's face is an echo of the only person who has ever been truly kind. So he swallows it all back, anger fleeting, voice forcefully calm once more.
He is better than this. He has to be better than this. )
But why shouldn't it be me? So what if my motives are selfish, Kim Gaon? Why should it matter that it's for me? I'm doing something.
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( said as though it's obvious. like it won't come back to haunt him later, once he learns how little of the picture he's actually been shown.
he knows it's a losing argument, is the thing. watching kang yohan's profile, the way reflected light washes over the planes of it, how the muscles jump each time his jaw flexes. immovable, implacable, a wall he'll continue to throw himself against because he won't be able to help it. kang yohan has power, and who has the ability to stop him? checks and balances exist for a reason.
it can't all mean nothing.
he sinks into the backseat again quietly, tired now. wrung out. the anger hasn't gone anywhere, just now it's settling into his chest, in his blood, a thing set to fester, to slowly broil. )
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( It would be so easy to leave it, to drive the rest of the way home and drag Gaon from the car, send him to his bed to sober up and leave Yohan alone with the writhing mess of his insides. If he were sensible he might, but there's something about this particular man that makes him want to wrench his ribcage open just so he might see. And that in itself is terrifying. He'd thought - Gaon looked like Isaac, if you didn't know where to see the differences. He'd assumed that way lay the origin. His brother had been Yohan's guiding light for so long, so of course the similarities were enough to trick him.
But Gaon is nothing like Isaac. And yet Yohan still wants to confess.
He hates it. It is not him. He does not tread unknown paths, not anymore. What right does Gaon even have to make him feel this way? Complicated, unsettled, the bare teeth of a cornered animal. He doesn't trust him, shouldn't make any attempt to try. And so he merely turns onto the long road up to the house, gaze flicking to the window just once. )
I don't need to be fighting you on this too, Kim Gaon.
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it's a fight for another day, for sure. he knows already he'll return to it even as he settles into the seat, watching the familiar landscape pass out the window as he folds his arms over his chest.
he's not sober enough to really be aware of the irony of having this kind of conversation while being forcibly dragged back to kang yohan's home and maybe that's for the best, actually. yohan can remind him later, once gaon realizes he's right. )
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I'll do it, thank you. [The yakult gets left on the counter for now. Teasing the pile of clothes apart, he drops one piece at a time into the machine, resists the temptation to dump the whole bottle of laundry liquid in - it would just cause much more problems than getting extra clean clothes - and gets it going.]
Mmmmm, whatever you're making, it smells good. I didn't think you had much time to cook.
thank you!!
I don't always. ( more often than not. he still manages to cook more than a lot of people in his position and that's something. he settles against the counter and after a beat nudges the second yakult closer towards his guest. no insistence, just offer. ) I probably wouldn't if I didn't like it. Do you cook?
( not ready to ask any of the Real Questions yet. )
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Resisting the urge to press every button on the panel just to see what happens, he peels away from the washing machine's side and latches onto the second yakult like a magpie.]
I can cook for you sometime. I make a decent steak. Or pan-seared cod with my special béchamel sauce.
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( his eyebrows raise, somewhere between genuinely being impressed and something faintly mocking at the prestige. )
I didn't know you were such an expert. You'll definitely have to cook for me, now. I don't know much about french food.
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I'll have to do more than cook for you then. Proper lessons.
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( he drags out the exclamation but his eyes are laughing as he turns his attention back to the pan. more stirring, more steps. he makes the space to add his oil and then his sauce, working with the mindless familiarity of someone who does it more often than not. it's another minute before he adds water and covers it with a lid and then he can finally turn his attention back. )
So. While that goes. What happened?
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What happened? Ah, tonight? [He slurps on his yakult while watching the machine fill up and start agitating the clothes.]
Mmm. I told you. I tried to stop a mugging. I'm something of a... [Guardian. Magical being. God. Annoying immortal that keeps intervening where he really shouldn't.
Sluuuuurp.]
...busybody.
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Do you stop a lot of muggings? Is that why you keep ending up with the police?
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[Does he stop a lot of muggings? No. Maybe sometimes, when he's feeling particularly charitable. But he's not selfless or heroic enough to care to intervene most of the time. Most of the time he is as apathetic as those whose apathy annoy him the most.]
When I meet people, I know when something is going to happen to them. Sometimes I-- guess I care enough to try and help.
aha i can string words together again
You know when something is going to happen to them?
( prompting for more, maybe. just a nudge. )
no rush take your time!!
Over nine hundred years have passed and he feels old and tired to the bone. The things he doesn't know don't bother him so much anymore.]
What do I look like to you? Do I seem... normal?
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You look tired?
( he's not sure what he's meant to be looking for. )
Like someone with too much money to be worried about stopping muggings, for one. Normal is a stretch.
( look he knows luxury brands he's not blind. )
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Oi! Don't scare me like that... [He straightens up and tugs on the bottom of his borrowed clothes. They're very comfortable, he has to admit.]
I can have too much money and still want to do the right thing, can't I? Maybe being a guardian angel pays well and you're in the wrong profession.
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( he watches, bemused. curious. still not entirely sure of the context or constraints of the conversation or how much is just one of the two of them being humoured. he's settled himself against the edge of the counter, half aware of his pan but mostly focused on deciding what really requires addressing. his own understanding of things? that's a tough sell. )
Is that what you are? A guardian angel? ( a pause, considering. ) Does heaven know they sent you?
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Hmph. I could be your guardian angel. You never know. [Another hairflip. Another scoff.] I wasn't sent by heaven. I'm just here. [And he'll be here long after Kim Gaon is gone, most likely. Time will prove it even if he won't.]
Do you believe in a god?
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( some guardian angel, then.
he should be prepared for a weightier question, given the construction of the conversation, but he's caught off guard by it. it's a tricky thing, isn't it? too many layers of things coalescing into a larger whole. he makes a face, shrugs. )
I haven't seen evidence for any? I'm not opposed to the idea of it in whatever form it takes. ( a loose gesture with his hand, as if it conveys anything. a little of the old hurt tries to surface and he smooths it down viciously. ) There wasn't one when I needed one, anyway. bland smile. You're going to tell me I'm wrong, aren't you?
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Someone has to stop the muggings then, right? If a god isn't going to step in.
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( gaon understands that intimately. the urge to do something, anything, to make a difference. even if it's just for one person. even if it's just to try. a little hypocritical of him then, considering he's more than likely to put himself in the middle of a mugging before even realizing he's done it.
that's not the point of this conversation though so it's moot right??? pot, kettle, etc etc. )
As long as you're still around to stop more of them afterwards, I guess. Is that what's not normal?
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I guess you can say that I'm a god. But not that god - the one you're thinking of. I've only been around for nine hundred years. And I only intervene if I feel like it. [He tries to sound nonchalant about it. Like he hasn't gotten in trouble for intervening more often than the other not-quite-humans would like.]
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gaon misses the counter when he shifts to prop his hand against it. he stumbles a little, has to catch himself. )
A what?
( weird jokes, yes? just a strange sense of humour? must be. )
You don't look nine hundred years old.
sagikkun ⬎
I could call Soohyun.
more 7-11 torment heck ye
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( he's not calling soohyun. )
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That's not what any of this is about? That's not what that is, either. You don't understand everything just because you think you do.
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Call her then.
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what's a few hours in a backroom? it's fine. definitely not calling her. )
Okay. I will.
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( Is he? Maybe, maybe not. This could just be Yohan vaguely lighting a fire under his ass. )
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( shit fuck now what )
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( petty. )
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( Girls, please stop fighting. Daddy's heart can't take it. )
I trust him, however, and you know how hard won that is, Kim Gaon. He'll do as I ask regardless of his own opinion on the matter.
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Fine.
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Don't forget my coffee.
( 😌 )
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( unless k is planning on emptying the store fully. which...actually might not be beyond k's abilities. still. )
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( K's gonna tell him not to forget the banana milk. )
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( Also, there's probably the sound of his voice outside now, if his message to Yohan is anything to go by. Good luck, babies. )
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ten minutes later yohan will get a text from k that simply says 'on our way'. )
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Are we throwing a fit of pique now, Judge Kim?
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( giving k the silent treatment? check. )
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No?
Aren't you glad for the fresh air?
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I'll get changed and head out.
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( he won't, he's just being petty. )
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Did you remember my banana milk?
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( yes. )
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⛪️🍶
You should wear today's shirt more often.
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Tell me where you bought it so I can buy the entire supply and hold the rest of your wardrobe hostage.
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Are you okay?
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I'm fine, I'm good, haunted by the shirt.
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( a weird accommodation but sure, why not. )
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I can't stop thinking about it, which is unfair, I had other things to get done tonight.
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But the whole point is it clings to your muscles, so what good is giving it to me going to do?
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( oh. )
Father Kang, have you been drinking?
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So I'm just going to be alone then. Good.
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( A joke? Maybe. )
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I didn't think you believed either.
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( feels wrong admitting that to a priest. but he's too busy feeling strange about father kang paying enough attention to him to give it too much thought. )
What if I'm worried about someone else's damnation?
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If there is a hell then I don't think it's a place for people who choose love. And if the rules are particular then we'll all end up there anyway. Why make yourself miserable now?
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( He has threatened to beat up a bishop once or twice. But, considering now, less playful. )
Isaac wanted me to join the seminary. He thought it would give me stability. A dedication. He hoped I'd learn to like people more, or that a higher calling might make up for where I lacked. And sometimes I think he was right. This way at least I can stop someone else using the rod of religion to beat people with.
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You didn't choose this?
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I don't mind what I do though.
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My temper wouldn't have survived it. At least this way I have the backing of fire and brimstone.
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So. How uh. Adherant. Would you say you are? To the church's demands?
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The church has a lot of demands, Kim Gaon. I can't follow them all.
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maybe a conversation for another day, when they're face to face and gaon can see how polite and priestly this should all be taken. )
That's good to know. I appreciate your willingness to share with me.
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I'm not wearing the collar now, Kim Gaon. And you're not actually part of my congregation, despite the fact that I see you there more often than I see half of them. I like talking to you.
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Most of them don't live across the street from your church.
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They've very nosy, so that's for the best.
oops i know code
( not like gaon has ever watched............. )
it's okay!!!!
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The more you find out about me, the more I can find out about you.
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I'm sure you have some secrets.
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( that he wants to desecrate the local priest isn't among those specific secrets. )
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But fine, hm.
I'm the reason Elijah's virtual pet died. I blamed the cat.
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It had been a long week.
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I have a tattoo.
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Where?
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Why a tattoo?
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( make him say more. )
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The soju is fine. Warming. You should visit for some, someday.
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I'll have to work on my rhymes. I don't know what goes with 'shirt'.
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( :) )
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I think I could trust you with it. You seem the type to be careful.
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It might not be worth it. I could be worse than you know.
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Doesn't that frighten you?
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I don't believe you're the kind of person who does something without good reason.
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I'm in the business of it, you know. It's a weighty thing.
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But I like that you'll spare me some, so really, I'm not above being selfish.
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Maybe I should have you write my sermons for me.
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( Food 😌 )
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temporicide ⬎
I mean, there's dancing. Not with anyone you'd want to dance with. But you aren't really given a choice.
So you come from a witch militia? How many books have you written so far?
two yappers yappin
I don't know them at all! I've just heard stories. I can't claim any militia expertise. If I wrote a book it'd be a biography of Bobby Womack.
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In a million years I never could have guessed that change in subject.
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Do you think that's a sign of true love, or just being a whole mess?
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But two months!
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( no he didn't search far enough. )
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But maybe you're right and that's what she liked about him. He was only 19. Can you imagine getting married at 19? Crazy.
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But I'll never think of it that way. Never.
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They say it's because they are few, you know. But I think it's just a way to tie people down to one place.
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Where are you stuck in all this?
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But I read about them in local papers sometimes. They're always buying things. Land, mostly, down south. Weird to see your own blood like strangers in the paper, but it's probably better that way.
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Families repeat things in cycles, don't they? They replicate the past. Even when they deliberately try not to, sometimes.
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If that's too intrusive then feel free to tell me to fuck off. I can handle it.
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You're all right. I ask lots of nosy questions, too. Starting with: do you like your family? I mean, any of them, all of them, some of them.
tell me why i never get regular notifs for you in here but i got one for the edit smh dw
Ah. That's a tricky question. I don't have much for family, but I do like the ones that have built family with me.
dw hates me in particular 😔 (also i'm v. slow w irling atm so thank you for your patience!)
I think that counts just the same. What's your found family like?
i got a notif for this one so idk what's going on now (and dw you're always good)
Messy. Complicated. People who've forgotten what family means. But they're learning. We're learning. It's good.
♡♡ (also i fully got like None yesterday so idek)
I think a family without complication is probably one that's hiding a lot. Messy can mean open. How did you find each other?
oh good as long as it's not just me still
That's true. Messy means growing. Most recently through work. Some are old friends. The pillars you keep around you that keep you on the right path.
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That reminds me of a movie I saw! My sister got me into Tarkovsky, about growing, and about how only soft things can grow. If people don't have those pillars, do they always go off the path, you think?
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Ahh. That's tricky. And that doesn't get into who's dictating the path in the first place. Maybe off the path isn't all that bad. Maybe there's more to life than the path.
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More to life may more paths. Divergent ones. But some not so well-tread, right? But sometimes there are bears on those ones, so that's a plus.
i've been ill and empty headed for so many days now wow
We're in support of bears now?
noooo i hope you're getting better!!! beat back the plague
I know it's a little wild sounding. But I feel it all the time.
Well, bears are very cute animals.
temporicide ⬎
I don't have a vehicle.
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Oh, right.
I forgot people can do that for reasons that aren't 'too many DUIs'.
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( how long can he play ignorant? )
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I am going to forward them to you from now on.
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Maybe they'll like you and learn.
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As someone who spends a lot of time being talked at professionally, this is nothing.
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Okay.
When people talk at you, do you ever want to snap back? Or do you let it go?
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sagikkun ⬎ (this will be a scene shortly ok)
Just remember there's no contract involved when it comes to you.
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he doesn't play. he might if things were different, if there weren't weeks of distance between his hands and yohan. of course the world they operate in would bring them back together like this, close enough and still so far. there's an urgency he feels in his bones when he slips through the door with a furtive glance in either direction. it only grows as time ticks, as he waits, a counter ticking down to when he finally gets what he wants.
the door opens. gaon can't help his smile. )
Why do you know all these places?
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( His voice is warm and a little smug as he slides the door shut, gaze finding Gaon's in the dim yellow light. Yohan wastes very little time in crossing the distance, broad palms at his waist as he backs the younger man into a shelf, his expression full of such fathomless, ravenous longing that he gives himself away with it. There's too much fondness, too strong a pull, the corner of his mouth lifts up in an indulgent smile as they watch each other. He's faintly aware he's probably in over his head. )
You look good, Gaon-ah.
( A compliment that needs to be delivered, though if there's a reply Yohan cuts it off with his mouth, the firmest of kisses. )
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dislodged immediately by the kiss, but gaon will grant him that.
he's missed him immensely, deep and shuddering if the noise he makes is any indication. he breathes deep through his nose and drags yohan closer with a hand on the back of his neck, trying to find the right balance between needing desperately to touch him and having to be presentable in the next few minutes. )
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Do you know how impossible it is to be in a room with you and not be able to touch you? ( All in a rush against his mouth, a murmured hum. ) I understand temptation now. Aish, Gaon-ah.
( A low laugh, half whispered into the space between them. )
Did you miss me?
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well, he could, but. that wouldn't end well for either of them.
he drags his teeth across yohan's lip, gentle enough that it shouldn't raise any questions later, and kisses him again instead of answering right away. it's slower, his arms settling over yohan's shoulders as he sinks back against the shelves and pulls yohan deeper in, open-mouthed and achingly tender the longer it goes. )
I think it's rude-- ( a whisper, a flicker of a smile, touching his tongue to yohan's teeth-- ) that you'd even ask.
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I think I know.
( Gaon missed him. Yohan did too. He shows it with how he follows the swaying back, mouth breaking away to kiss along the sharp angle of the other man's jaw, breathing deep to take in his cologne. )
The only thing making this agony better, Kim Gaon - ( The impression of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. ) - is knowing I'll get to take you home after.
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( there's a hint of a laugh, a breathless murmur as he tips his face up, rolling the length of his body up against yohan. it's not meant to be titillating as much as it is just for the luxury of feeling him there; there's no time to really play, and gaon's eager enough for the night to be over that teasing feels beyond him. this is something else, grounded, the way he's been so hungry for any scrap of contact. he just wants to be close.
he brings a hand in to run his fingers up the back of yohan's neck, to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place as he dips his chin and presses his lips to yohan's ear. )
I'm taking you home, remember? We won't have to drive nearly as far.
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All right, all right. Yours.
( There's a particular weight to the last word, though he immediately softens it by twisting to catch his mouth again, earnest with his devotion. It's a desperate little thing, his palms spread wide where they've found Gaon's body, against his spine and then dropping down to dip lower, over the curve of his ass in his nice suit trousers. If he squeezes a little meanly that's their own business, he's too busy making the most of these scant few moments they have. )
I can't believe I have to let you go back out there.
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It's not that much longer.
( it's forever longer, he's just saying words to say them. if he wouldn't be obviously missed he would bail right now, disappear into the night with kang yohan never to be seen again. but it's also not as long as it's been for them apart already and it's only just enough to make it easier to break away from the kiss. )
Much more of you and I won't be able to go back without embarrassing myself.
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( Unfortunately though, Gaon is right. Yohan has to let him go. The sooner he does, the sooner the night might be over. Still, he presses another firm kiss to Gaon's smiling mouth, something quick and filthy before he forcibly pulls himself away again. The scant distance gives him the space to smooth his hands over Gaon's suit, careful with it, easing out any of the wrinkles left by his greed. )
Aish, so handsome. ( A laugh, broad palms against Gaon's chest. ) No wonder they want to eat you up.
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You're one to talk, Judge Kang. Don't think I don't see how they watch you.
( they should leave. someone will be looking for him soon. but he lingers instead, his fingers sliding down the front of yohan's throat to gently tug his tie back into place. it's clear he's stalling -- the last thing he wants right now is to go fawn over a bunch of wealthy politicians and business people. especially when yohan is right here. but, at least: )
Were you invited in?
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( He only goes to the parties that might earn him something, or the ones where showing his face has an end goal. This one isn't even really his scene, except he'd heard gossip about Gaon being there long before the younger man had mentioned it. It had been easy to say yes.
It's harder now. He's aware he's merely looking at Gaon, eyes soft and warm where they rest on his face. But eventually he sighs, overly dramatic. ) Once more unto the breach, mm? It'll be worth it.
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( grumpy, playing into the game. he smooths over yohan's tie once more just for the sake of touching and, for good measure, reaches up to press his thumb against yohan's lips with a little quirk of his own.
but he pulls himself away then before the urge to stay put wins out again. he adjusts the button on his jacket, flashes yohan a quick smile over his shoulder, and regretfully slips out of the room as if he hadn't been up to anything questionable.
it's another while before he sees yohan again. he's rounded up as soon as he's found -- coming back from the bathrooms, you see -- and whisked away with the rest of them like the prizes they're attending as. it's not until they're brought into one of the center's private rooms, all clean lines and expensive furniture, and arrayed between people with a staggering accumulation of the nation's wealth and power, that gaon's eyes find yohan's again and he dips his head and shoulders in a polite bow the same as he does to everyone else as though they've hardly had the chance to meet. )
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He'd like to text him again, maybe. But the room is too full now. And besides, he's sure it won't be too long until this is all done. )
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it's all so much. such a game. he'd known this was involved when he'd gotten himself on this track but he never could have guessed that this was such a large part of it all. a broken system, but a system nonetheless.
the evening wears on. they're all passed around like trophies won and people get bolder the more champagne they help themselves to. someone ends up on his lap at one point and he meets yohan's eyes across the room, his own tired. he pours drinks for a group a while later, their glasses extended up to him, and he plays into it. he signs autographs for family members who are fans, takes photos whenever asked, and actually finds a moment of reprieve when he's tugged down to sit between kang yohan and his conversation partner and there is solace in the warmth of yohan's thigh pressed against his own, familiar in a sea of unwanted attention. )
Judge Kang. ( he dips his head in a polite bow when introduced, playing up just how newly acquainted they are. ) I've heard you're going to lead the country out of the dark. If anyone can do it, I'm sure you can.
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Ah, is that what they're saying now? That's much nicer than last week.
( It has the right effect. Chairman Park Du-Man starts heckling him from across the table, yelling about him lightening up. Nobody likes a scowling face, it makes for bad television. Yohan huffs out a laugh, thigh pressing more firmly against Gaon's own. ) Perhaps Kim-ssi can give me some tips? How do I make myself more approachable, mm?
( Possibly he's going to have to find some way to ruin the person who tugged Gaon down earlier, but at least the closeness is soothing. )
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he smiles, as polite and bland here as he has been all evening. there's a flicker of laughter in his eyes when he glances at yohan again, just barely perceptible. )
Ah, but judges are very intimidating. Have you considered a career change? People have no problem approaching singers.
( the slightest scrunch of his nose. the answer doesn't matter anyway, his name gets called from the other side of the table and his manager is already reaching for him. gaon lets himself be dragged away again for another introduction with a quick, apologetic nod to both yohan and the woman beside him. )
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It's dipping into the later hours when someone launches into a demand for drinks. Gaon slipping back into his orbit, close but not close enough. )
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they're closer now, at the very least. opposite sides of the seating arrangement, on the fringe, only the table and propriety really between them. gaon is only half paying attention to the lady beside him, someone some kind of important, and instead he's watching the drinks circulate with a kind of dozing detachment, too aware and not at all paying attention. they're arranged specifically, all matching glasses. they're passed out to the dignitaries, to the guests. gaon is aware of someone lifting a drink off the tray from behind but doesn't think anything of it until it's returned to the tray just behind yohan's shoulder. he furrows his brow at it, curious, nodding distantly to the woman next to him as the man in the seat next to yohan's chair reaches for that glass and the server turns it away, passes him a different one, and then turns to yohan.
offers him the glass.
it takes longer than it should. he's too tired to be clever, but he's watching as yohan takes the glass and he's aware of someone behind the server, moving the other direction, and he doesn't think anyone would be stupid enough to try and pull something, especially against yohan? here? now? why? and yet. still.
someone he doesn't know is watching the glass in yohan's hand with the same intent gaon is and any thought of behaviour or reputation or expectation flies out the window when yohan lifts the glass to his mouth. he's moving before he thinks to, impulse before reason. it startles the woman beside him into a yelp that he only half hears as he scrambles across the end of the table and catches yohan by the wrist, spilling into his lap just to redirect the glass to his own mouth. he drinks it in two long swallows and only later will he realize that there were a half dozen other options to him that didn't involve drinking it. but for now he meets yohan's eyes as the room around them erupts into noise, only half-aware that he's on his knees sprawled between yohan's thighs and still holding tight enough to his wrist to leave a mark later. )
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Gaon, on his knees and a hand around his wrist, the glass empty. The noise of the room is a scandalised coccophany, too loud and too close and Yohan's eyes are zipping over the younger man's face trying to divine a reason for it all. His gaze shifts from the panicked, desperate expression to the glass, tilting it just so. When he notices the faint residue those eyes snap back to Gaon's face again, briefly, momentarily panicked before his expression gets locked up behind a mask, a laugh rising from him, forced. )
Ai, I'd forgotten I owed you a drink, Kim-ssi. My mistake. Come here, sit up. ( Whoever is sitting beside Yohan moves instinctively, allowing him to tug Gaon up into the space. The glass he was holding gets dropped, Yohan kicks it under the table with one foot, hands vague as they resettle Gaon's jacket. ) For the autograph, yes? ( Conspiratorial, to a woman adjacent. ) My niece is a big fan. You know teenage girls. If I didn't ask she would have never spoken to me again.
( It's pleasant, cheerful. Damage control. Someone laughs, someone else mutters under their breath, and Yohan lets his attention jump from person to person, noting the upheaval. Who has left. Who hasn't. )
Are you all right?
( Still casual, but his mind is working a mile a minute. They need to get out of here, he knows that. Maybe the hospital? No. His doctor on call. Another glass gets placed to Yohan's arm. He ignores it. )
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he forces a laugh, ducks his head. a genuine flush pinks his cheeks and he bows a quick apology to anyone still paying attention, refusing to make eye contact with any of the other members of his group. )
I tripped over the table, I'm so sorry-- ( to the lady he'd been sitting beside, to the nearest neighbours. none of them have to take it as the truth but some of them will take some of it and that's all that really counts. he has to keep his knee from bouncing, nerves already flaring bright, and he turns towards yohan ready to offer him the deepest bow yet when the woman beside him leans in close, conspiratorial. )
I don't blame you. I'd throw myself at Judge Kang too if I thought I stood a chance. You're not the first.
( gaon chokes back a cough, looking back at her, and he can't tell if his face is hot because of what she's saying or something else. )
I'm not--
( she flashes him a bright smile, reaches to pull his tie back into place seemingly for an excuse to touch him. gaon sees her gaze turning past him, over his shoulder, to yohan. )
I don't think he likes anyone.
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( It is just catty enough that someone starts laughing, and another figure starts heckling, something about how cold he always is. He pays it no heed, gaze firmly settled on Gaon's flushed face, his wide, panicked eyes. There's something particularly awful about this, but he's not so blind to his own panic yet that he cannot think. Instead he lifts a hand, hovers it above Gaon's arm. )
Did you catch yourself on the table as you went down, Kim-ssi? I thought I heard a thud. Maybe you should make sure you're all right, mm? I can come with you if you'd like.
( Such a fuddy-duddy, he's fine, isn't he? He hears it, he ignores it. )
Maybe some water. It's very warm in here. And I know you're popular. You have a show tomorrow, don't you? ( He doesn't, but he doubts anyone here beyond Gaon's band members will correct him. Most of them have wandered far enough to do a different kind of damage control though. ) We wouldn't want to risk that. Why don't we step outside for a moment?
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he's fine, it's all fine. )
I'm fine.
( it's a bland smile when he turns back to yohan, polite for the sake of appearances. his stomach churns, anxious, but he's already made enough of a spectacle of himself -- of them -- that trying to leave together feels too obvious. is that the type of man kang yohan is? that he'd escort an idol out of a room like this? everything feels a little too slippery around the edges and when his eyes meet yohan's there's an obvious dilation in his pupils, even given the room's dimmed lighting.
he takes yohan's hand between his own and bobs a quick bow, thickly masked distance as a measure of protection. )
I appreciate you worrying about me, Judge Kang, but I'll be fine on my own.
( he assumes yohan will follow him regardless of what he says, if the look on his face is anything to go by. but gaon needs to get out of the room before he potentially loses the ability to do even that and he drops yohan's hand as he rises to his feet, bidding the rest of the room a hasty bow. maybe they'll assume he's embarrassed, it doesn't matter. his manager is watching him with narrowed eyes and he needs to get away before he can be cornered. )
Thank you for your time. ( ill-fitting, not at all up to standard. he can feel sweat prickling at his temples and under his nose and he doesn't offer anyone the opportunity to stop him from disappearing out through the door. )
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She's drunk, knocks her purse onto the ground in her haste to hold his attention, and Yohan demurs quickly to fetch it for her, the gaping clasp spilling the contents everywhere. He stuffs mascara back into the bag, reaching for the dropped glass to slip it into his jacket, straightens up again with a laugh. ) It must be the night for it. Now, you were saying -.
( Predictably, his phone rings. Yohan answers it right then and there, thumb shifting the volume higher, Elijah's voice spilling out all in a rush. There's a bird! Or a bat! Kkomi bought it in, and I can't reach it. It keeps fluttering near my hair, and don't bats have rabies? ) Elijah. ( Voice soothing. ) I'll come home, don't panic. Go into the other room if you need to, yes I'm on my way, no, you won't start frothing at the mouth. I'll be there soon.
( She's disabled, he hears someone mutter to their companion as he rises, holding his jacket in such a way that the glass isn't obvious. He makes his way to the door without hurrying, strides even. Only when he's through and away does he reply. ) Okay, you can stop. I think my ear is ringing.
( You owe me. A new purse. Two! I was watching that new reality show-. ) Isn't it your bedtime? ( Distracted, his gaze sweeps down the hallways. ) Are you still going to be all right if I don't come home? ( Obviously, there wasn't even a bat. And I'll go to sleep soon. Where there too many pretty girls there? Did they make you nervous? Are you dating them? ) Elijah. I'll call you in the morning. ( Ya! Fine. I'm eating your chocolate anyway.
She hangs up just as quickly as she'd rang, and Yohan pockets his phone, picking the direction of the bathrooms in the hope he'll find Gaon somewhere along it. )
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he tugs restlessly at his tie, too aware of it tight around his throat. it's hard to breathe suddenly, even past the smell, and he trails a hand along the wall first for assurance and then for balance as a tremor starts in his knees.
he's not stupid. or, okay, in this instance he's a specific kind of stupid, but he knows that there was something in that drink intended for kang yohan. he'd drink it again, easily, no question, but there's a panic starting to build now in a way that's too distant to be safe. get out, get away: step one. and now what? it's getting harder to string thoughts together in any linear way. get out, get away, but how? the bathrooms are too obvious an answer, especially if someone he doesn't want to be found by comes looking. he gives the doors a long look and then stumbles past them to the next corner, around it, out of sight.
he slumps into the third alcove, a locked door to something he's too far gone to read, and fumbles his phone out of his pocket. his thumbs are too big to unlock his phone suddenly, his vision swims; it's getting harder to breathe and his face is so hot. squinting doesn't bring anything into focus. he messes up the lock screen again. of all the things he could have done, why this? why here and now? he laughs to himself, a little sob of a sound, and misses the lock a third time, a fourth before it locks him out for a count. he presses his forehead against the cool of the wall and works on just breathing, slow, in and out as the floor threatens to tilt under him.
if he passes out here someone will find him, surely. whether or not it's someone he wants to be found by is a question itself, but not one he can do anything about right now. )
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Now he has, now he has to figure out a way to fix it.
He slams out of the bathroom just as quickly as he'd entered, thumb pressing a name on the screen and bringing it up to his ear. But there's no need. He hears it go off somewhere further down the corridor, steps hurrying him down, his shoes making a soft sound against the rich carpet. He turns, too fast, the hand holding his phone catching the wall. But there, slumped against a door -. ) Kim Gaon.
( Yohan is in front of him in seconds, phone on the ground so that both hands can curve around Gaon's face. He's sweaty, far too hot, and when he tilts the other man's face upwards he is entirely all pupil. )
I'm here, I'm here. You're okay now.
( He isn't. Yohan needs to get him out of here, and fast. He needs to find him a doctor, he needs to make this right. ) I've got you.
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Hi.
( it's low, thick like syrup. the floor tips the other way suddenly and gaon's hands find yohan's forearms, fumbling to steady himself, and his own phone thumps to the floor. nausea rolls faintly in the background and he presses one of his cheeks further into yohan's hand, appreciating the cool press of skin against the feverish heat of his face. )
M'fine.
( he doesn't know why he says so, he knows he's not. his tongue feels too big for his mouth, his skin too tight. he arches up away from the door but then slumps back against it again, breathing hard, gripping yohan's arms tighter as a new bank of heat passes through him. )
Can you-- ( chin lifting, throat bobbing as he swallows, a shine of sweat on his skin as he palms at his tie, fingers unwieldy at the knot. ) Off?
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( He has to let go of Gaon's face to do it, immediately undoing the top button and tugging the starched shape of his collar away. He's flushed underneath it, Yohan's fingers touching skin briefly before he undoes the knot of his tie, pulls it free, shoves the offending scrap of fabric into his pocket so the edges trail free. ) I need to get you out of here. We're going to get to the car, all right? I'll drive you, and then I'll call for someone to come and help.
( A doctor? K? He hasn't decided yet. He doesn't know what to focus on, beyond the need for a swift escape, his own stomach rolling with terrible nausea, the guilt of it stretching. It was intended for him, after all. He knows what Gaon's lunge across the space meant. And he'd been distracted, he probably would have drank without thinking about it, too many spinning plates and a pretty diversion in the corner of his vision. )
Can you stand?
( It feels like a ticking clock. He needs to get Gaon up, and get him out, before anyone else falls upon them. But he doesn't look in any state to move, and that's worrying. )
I'll help you, you can lean on me. Just to the car, and then it will be quiet, and safe.
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I can walk. ( they're barely words, sounds slurring together. he runs his fingers down to the bend of yohan's elbows and then back up to curl around his wrists, turning his face up to him with a beatific smile that only lasts for a half-breath before he grunts and folds in on himself. yohan's in the way, though, and he presses his forehead into yohan's shoulder with a low groan, stomach twisting in on itself.
it eases after a moment. he pants against yohan's suit as a new wave of something rises, turns his face into yohan's neck with a wet breath. he still smells good, which isn't helping anything right now. )
Take me home. ( low, heated with an intent to it that isn't remotely appropriate to the current circumstances. )
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Anxiety spikes, but Yohan does his best to pay it little heed, instead he wraps an arm around Gaon's waist and pulls the other man up with him. It's a process. For all Gaon's assurance that he can walk he's more boneless than usual, and Yohan has to use the wall to get his arm safely around him, hugging him close. )
Remember you have feet.
( It's mild, a murmur. His hand is against Gaon's waist, the shirt bunched up under his fingertips. He feels too hot through the fabric, already damp with sweat. It's enough to make Yohan want to turn back around and find someone's throat to wrap his fingers around, but that's a thought for another time. ) We'll have to cut through the back. I don't think you want to leave via the front door. Do you think you can stay conscious for me, Gaon-ah?
( A step, he's taking more of the younger man's weight, trying to ease them into movement. )
That's it. Just follow me, mm?
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Yohan-ah.
( he tips back towards yohan, brows knit as they stumble a little. he'd meant to say something, to explain the trouble, but it's like the swing in focus takes all of his attention with it and suddenly all he's aware of is the line of yohan's body pressed all along his own. it sends a shiver through him, eyes heavy-lidded and intent on the hook of yohan's jaw, just right there, the hint of his throat peeking above his collar-- )
Yohan-ah.
( his fingers twist into the front of yohan's jacket, dragging all the clean, proper lines into disorder as he tries to pull him around to get a better look at him, mouth open with each heavy breath. )
Aren't you hot? Take this off. Let me take it off.
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( The corridor is empty, but that could change. Yohan doesn't currently have all the faculties to keep an eye on everything that might happen around them, his attention is all focused on Gaon, the heat leaking through his clothing, the thickness of his voice, each too fast breath. At some point in the future he might want to have a conversation with someone about why they have to even attend these kinds of parties, and how the hell anyone let Gaon out all by himself, but for now the lack of attention works in his favour. He doesn't think anyone on Gaon's idol side of this even knows about him. )
There's a conference room through here. A second exit. We'll get through there.
( Shoulder shoving the door open, their uncoordinated stance causing the door to bang off the wall too loud, an echo. )
Are you feeling sick? If you are you have to tell me.
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there isn't even really enough of him left to be aware of what's happening to him, no backseat understanding, watching without being able to stop it. he's all impulse and drive now and it's only yohan's effort that's keeping him from doing much worse. the motion of movement keeps him from stringing thoughts together and it all comes in flashes instead, a faint understanding of the spaces they're passing through. there's yohan's body and the change in air from one room to the next and he swears he can hear yohan's pulse under his skin and he nearly trips them into one the chairs tucked under the conference room table when he grabs at the buttons on his own shirt, dragging the top two open with a gust of a breath. )
You're sick. ( his head sways back on his neck and he laughs, breathing in harsh little pants towards the ceiling. ) Are you taking me home? Take me home. Judge Kang, take me home?
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Gaon-ah. ( Soft, but firm, he's sure he'll be forgiven for talking to him like a child later. Or maybe not, considering this is his fault. ) I know it hurts. But I need to keep you in one piece. I'm going to get you out of here, I'm going to take care of you. Just trust me, all right? The car is five minutes. We can do five minutes.
( Can he? The space is closed in, but it's wide and Yohan did not park close to the doors. He tightens his grip anyway, tugging Gaon as close as he can again. Even he is sweating by now, the heat off of the other man's skin an inferno. He wishes, briefly, that he had several more hands. He needs to call someone. )
See, there's the door. Out there and to the left and we'll be out of the building. It's easy. You're going to be fine, all right? I've got you.
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It isn't nice to lead someone on, Kim Gaon.
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Which is why I know this isn't like you.
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Or have you changed your mind? Are you that fickle?
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( 100% )
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She was in for lunch the other day.
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( He almost overfills his glass again, a wet ring on the dark wood of his desk. )
Fine. I'm sure the places where you're ill-suited won't chafe.
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If you're the kind of man to have someone believe she's the first choice, then far be it for me to say something.
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You wouldn't have been so angry before.
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I hope it's everything you want it to be.
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🪩
( Mostly because Yohan snagged the spare Gaon she didn't want. )
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I'm not financing that.
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No one else wears shirts quite that tight.
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( He does enjoy that. Just not in the way where it means not touching. )
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I might forget how to be gentle.
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Fine. The secret to a good relationship is compromise. I'm willing.
( The books say so. )
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What do you?
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You're just Gaon.
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Just?
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You know you're important, don't you?
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Just you. You're the only one I'm interested in.
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Do I have to fight off anyone other than your adoring fans?
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( Cocky, yes. But that's just who he is. )
But I'm often inspired to it. So, what else?
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Sometimes I think about wrapping them around your wrists.
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I know some clever knots.
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But you wriggle away. What if I want to assure otherwise?
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And -. )
Done.
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No, I thought I'd leave it sitting like a brick outside of your HQ.
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( 😌 )
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