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Jungwon is getting desperate. 

He’s been hiking up this ravine for what he guesses is the better half of an hour, and he’s nearly to the top but he’s tired. In retrospect, it’s more of a glorified hill, but he’s been forced to keep a slow pace, courtesy of his bum ankle. He twisted it late in the afternoon trying to clear a creek to avoid getting his shoes wet, which was hours ago. He doesn’t have a watch, but the glimpses of the full moon he’s caught through overhead foliage tell him it’s likely nearing midnight. 

After several more minutes of heavy breathing and grunts of pain, Jungwon makes it to the top of the hill. The air is warm and heavy up here, despite the elevation and the nighttime. He tries to peer around the trees and forest brush, but even up here, he has no luck- he still doesn’t know where he is. 

Panic seizes his heart. He starts choking on it, crumpling to sit on the ground as hot tears of frustration and distress prick at the corners of his eyes. He’s hungry, exhausted, in pain, and so fucking scared. He got separated from the group after they stopped to have lunch at noon, and he hadn’t meant for it to happen, god, but…

Unbidden, thoughts of Jay pop into his head. 

Jungwon buries his face in his hands and lets out a sob. The what ifs terrify him. What if he can’t find his way back to camp? What if no one comes to look for him? What if they try, but never find him? What if he has to spend days out here? What if he doesn’t find food soon? What if he…

What if someone has to tell Jay he…

Jungwon sniffs roughly and raises his head. He knows crying will only serve in using up more of his already dwindling energy, so for several minutes he just sits, cradling his throbbing ankle and trying to beat back the crushing despair encroaching on his mind. 

Suddenly, a stick snaps somewhere to his right. 

Jungwon whips his neck over to look in that direction, pulse spiking, blood pounding in his ears. He peers through the darkness as best he can, but sees nothing. A few seconds later, another snap follows. Something’s coming. 

Jungwon tries to get up. His ankle gives out. He barely clamps down the cry that tears at his throat when his foot twists in the wrong direction with a sickening pop. 

There’s a third snap in the trees, then a fourth, then the sounds don’t stop, getting closer and closer. Jungwon scoots backward, hands scraping on the rough terrain. He needs to get away, he needs to try to roll down the hill, he needs to do something- 

It happens so fast after that. He can’t see clearly, but the- the thing- slinks out from the covering of the bushes and tree trunks and shows itself. Jungwon gurgles helplessly as a sliver of moonlight illuminates piercing eyes, massive claws, threatening fangs. Blinding adrenaline alone allows him to pull himself up, to try to get away. It happens so fast. 

Jungwon sprawls out face first on the ground when his boot catches on an upturned root. The thing is on top of him. It happens so fast. 

He screams as white hot pain erupts in his shoulder, and every attempt to struggle is futile. Delirious, he thinks, How am I going to survive this? 

Suddenly, there’s shouting. Another voice beyond his own. It sounds a million miles away, a name- “Jake!”- being repeated over and over again in panicked staccatos. 

Jungwon can’t pay attention to a potential rescuer for long. Fangs dig deeper into his flesh, like they're burrowing in, like they’re scraping bone. His eyes roll back as a guttural cry dies in his throat. Agony, bittersweet as it brings unconsciousness with it, swallows him whole, his last lingering thought: 

Will I survive this?

»

Jay has known Jungwon practically all his life. 

They grew up in the same town, and experienced the same things the tiny place they called home had to offer. Even though they’re two years apart, and coincidentally were always in different grades in school, they’ve always had an untouchable connection. No matter how many other friends Jay had- friends his own age- and no matter who came and went in his life, no one has ever come close to being as important as Jungwon is to him. 

And it’s always been that way. The connection between them, the one that Jay can’t quite put into words because words aren’t quite enough, has always been that way. When people learn he and Jungwon have been best friends since childhood, most tend to chalk up their still in-tact relationship to shared experiences and a naive sort of loyalty to each other. And sure, that diligence holds a small part in it, but It is more than that. Jay realized- really realized, at the impressionable, terrifying age of fifteen- that it was more than that. 

Jungwon is… he’s precious to Jay. There is no other way to describe it. Jay cares for him more deeply than he can explain or even fully understand, and somewhere along the way an urge to protect Jungwon dug deep into his soul; it planted itself and grew roots, and then matured into something much bigger than mere friendly adoration. 

They grew older together, and with every passing day, that feeling Jay bottled up in his chest for Jungwon grew too. Leaving him behind for college was the hardest thing Jay has ever had to do. 

For several weeks during his senior year of high school, Jay seriously considered staying in town after he graduated for the sole purpose of keeping Jungwon company until he graduated. He had it all planned out, actually. Contrasting his parents’ (old fashioned, in Jay’s opinion) beliefs, he didn’t consider a gap year or two a thing of the devil. The thought of working and saving up money for two years until Jungwon graduated didn’t sound bad to him. At all. Then, they could go to college together, if that’s what either of them decided they wanted to do. 

All his brainstorming didn’t really matter in the end, though. The resounding smack Jay received on the back of the head from Jungwon when he shared said thoughts clued him in that the younger wasn’t all too happy with the prospect of Jay putting his life “on hold” (Jungwon’s words) to wait for him. 

So, with minimal grumbling and a lot of encouragement, Jay applied for university. He was accepted by the only one relatively near their middle-of-nowhere town, which then began his hunt for what major he wanted to declare. He decided, after a lot of going back and forth, on culinary arts, and the beaming look of pride on Jungwon’s face only solidified Jay’s confidence that he’d made the right choice. 

Jay graduated. His last summer with Jungwon before moving out came and went, melting away as quickly as popsicles under the sun, and all of the sudden, the two of them were standing in front of each other in Jay’s driveway, next to his packed car, under the early morning sky. It was a heart wrenching moment, to say the least. Jungwon had cried, had squeezed Jay in a hug so tightly that Jay almost exclaimed Fuck It! and stayed right there in that small ass, withering away town just to be with him. 

He did, however, go (mostly because Jungwon calmed down and plastered on a smile and pushed him into his car, and because it was a bit more bearable to drive away when Jungwon’s eyes weren’t filled with tears). The adjustment to not seeing each other every day was certainly difficult, but they managed. They still talked everyday, whether it be sending texts back and forth or talking on the phone until one of them inevitably drifted to sleep. 

A couple months into living together, his roommate Sungoon asked him where he went to stay every weekend, as it clearly wasn’t their dorm. Jay had smiled a little and told him, “Back home.”  

Jay’s parents decided to move to their dream house- located on the beach- not long after Jay left for college, so “home” became Jungwon’s house. At least that’s what he would tell someone if they asked. But home has always been and will always be wherever Jungwon is, and the fact that that happened to be at Jungwon’s house was merely a coincidence. 

Month after month passed by in the same manner: their mundane weeks filled with phone calls and Facetimes, their weekends brightened by the time they spent together. Jungwon’s parents traveled a ridiculous amount due to their careers, so most weekends, it was just the two of them in the house. It became a delicate, intimate sort of routine filled with lingering eye contact and gentle touches. 

It was during one of these visits, near the end of Jay’s freshman year, that Jungwon told him of his plans for the summer. 

“It’s basically a summer camp. But like, to experience what it’d be like to be a forest ranger.”

“Oh, cool.” Jay leans across the kitchen island to load a stack of pancakes onto Jungwon’s plate. “That’s great, Wonie. I know you’ve been interested in it for a while now. Ranger-ing.”

Jungwon snorts, dousing his pancakes in syrup. “‘Ranger-ing.’ Classy, hyung.”

“Hey,” Jay huffs. It’s a lame comeback. Jungwon’s smirks agrees. 

Jay rounds the counter with his own plate and sits way closer to Jungwon than necessary. Jungwon doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he sidles up to Jay’s side, shivering against the morning chill in the drafty kitchen. Jay scootes his stool closer and shovels a monstrous bite into his mouth. “Seriou’sly, though. ‘M ‘cited for you.”

“Fucking gross. Chew your food first."

Jay leans over and smacks his lips right against the shell of Jungwon’s ear for good measure. Jungwon shoves him away, faking a wretched hurling sound, which just makes Jay snicker more.  

“It’s gonna be safe though, right?” Jay asks him a while later, once they’ve nearly cleared their plates. “Like, the counselors are professionals and all that?”

Jungwon visibly softens, his usual teasing prattles pausing in an effort to ease Jay’s concern. 

“Yeah, hyung. Promise. I did my research.” Jay’s heart settles a bit. He takes a deep breath, twisting his tone back to fit their usual harmless banter. 

“Mh. Nerd.”

Jungwon rolls his eyes, elbows him in the ribs. “Asshole.”

Jay smiles at his plate. He looks over at Jungwon’s soft call a few moments later. 

“Hey.” 

“Hm?”

“You sure you won’t be too lonely without me?” The playful lilt to Jungwon’s tone slips away, stripping his words of his carefully crafted nonchalance. He doesn’t need to do that around Jay anyway. He knows that. “I wouldn’t be leaving until the end of June, but… it’s a four week program. Half the summer. And we’ve always spent the whole thing together.”

Jay smiles at him, soft and quiet-like. He reaches up mindlessly, tucking a stray strand of Jungwon's mussed bed-hair behind his ear. 

“I’ll be fine, Won,” he assures him. “If you’re excited about this, I’m all for it. Hell, if it weren’t for my internship, I’d come with you.”

Jungwon looks particularly pleased with the sentiment. He nods, tucking the last bite of his breakfast into his cheek with downcast eyes and a tiny smile. He is so fucking adorable. Jay decides it is entirely rational to think he may just keel over and pass away. 

And that was that. Just like the year before, the school year wrapped up quickly and the month of June passed at an even more alarming rate. All of a sudden, they were bidding each other goodbye again, this time in Jungwon’s driveway. 

“Remember,” Jungwon says into Jay’s hair as they hug, “the cell service is absolute shit out there. So don’t think I’m ghosting you or something if I don’t answer your texts.”

Jungwon squeaks when Jay tugs him even closer, forcing him up on his tiptoes. Jay sniffs out a laugh. 

“You’d never ghost me.”

“Oh really?” comes Jungwon’s expected retort, but they both know Jay’s right. 

Jay uses the advantage of already having his arms looped around Jungwon’s torso to squeeze him tight. Jungwon sputters on a cough and laughs, thumping on Jay’s back until he eases up. His hand twists into the material of Jay’s t-shirt, right over his shoulder blade, nose pressed to Jay’s neck. 

“Gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Jay sighs, reaching up to card his fingers through Jungwon’s hair. “Me too, Wonie.” 

They manage to separate, eventually. Fortunately for Jay’s poor heart’s sake, Jungwon doesn’t cry this time, though he does make a show of jutting out his lower lip in a pout as he ducks into his car and starts the engine. Jay rests his elbows on the open windowsill and pokes at Jungwon’s cheek until his dimple reappears. 

“Stay safe, okay?”

Jungwon’s cheeks are flushed with excitement even now, with a three hour drive to the camp still ahead of him. He is so goddamn beautiful. Jay is so unfathomably gone for him. 

Jungwon smiles, soft. Reassuring. 

“Always.”

»

Turns out Jungwon is absolutely correct about the shitty service. 

Several times, Jay’s been almost wholly positive the texts coming through from Jungwon had taken hours, or maybe even days, to send on his end. They’d be out of context, or simply just spotty in relation to the time they’d pop up on Jay’s phone. Nonetheless, Jay’s been glad to hear from him, no matter when, or what about. 

The past four weeks have passed terribly slowly. The summer internship Jay picked up at a culinary kitchen near university has served in keeping him busy and taking his mind off Jungwon being gone- at least a little- which is nice. But he’s beyond ready for Jungwon to return. Overwhelmingly so. 

Apparently, his awful, horrible roommate can tell. 

“Jungwon?” Sunghoon asks after Jay lunges for his phone that just buzzed with a notification, like that’s all he needs to say. He’s right. Jay still thinks he’s a rude asshole. 

Said asshole is raising an eyebrow at him with a smirk he hasn’t bothered to hide, leaning against the kitchen counter like he owns the fucking place (he doesn’t). They just moved into this apartment- located a few minutes from the university- at the beginning of the summer, made possible by their new roommate: soon-to-be freshman, Kim Sunoo. He’s an absolute sweetheart, and extremely excited to split rent with two other people, compared to his initial plan to live in one of the campus dorms by himself. 

Jay likes him. Sunghoon really likes him. Jay doesn’t think Sunghoon has any fucking business teasing him about Jungwon when his every starstruck interaction with Sunoo is literal leverage for Jay to use against him. They’ve barely lived with Sunoo for a month, and Sunghoon’s already run up quite the track record. 

Jay rolls his eyes and looks back at his phone. He answers Sunghoon with a grumbled “No” because he’s not enough of a bitch to ignore him, and because the text was, in fact, not from Jungwon. His mom had sent him a gushy We Miss You <3 message, several bright images of herself and his dad at the beach attached.

Sunghoon retreats to his room after Jay flips him off for laughing at his poorly concealed disappointment. Jay sighs. He replies to his mom with a paragraph of his own, dutifully sends her a picture of his latest dinner creation per her request, and then exits their chat to open the one he shares with Jungwon. He stares at the last text Jungwon sent.

Headed out early tomorrow morning to do some hiking! The leaders said we’re going deeper into the forest than we have before. The plan is to see this huge waterfall and then put some of the skills we’ve learned to the test, kind of like a last hurrah since camp is almost over. I’m excited- but I’m even more excited to see ur ugly mug again. Kidding. Abt the ugly part. Just a couple more days! :]

That was three days ago, and Jay’s chosen to pointedly ignore the way his ears get hot every single time he’s reread it since then. Jungwon’s going to be home in two days, and then Jay can go back to talking to him without having to worry about trivial things like shitty cell reception. 

He really, really can’t wait. 

»

That night, Jay groggily awakes to a phone call blaring in his ear. 

He fumbles for the device and squints blearily at the screen as it keeps ringing. Unknown number. He almost lets the thing drop straight to the mattress, already dreaming of rolling over and plummeting right back into sleep, but… He thinks of Jungwon, still not home. Three hours away from him. He answers the call. 

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with unuse. 

There’s a crackle over the line. A beat of silence. Then, “Hyung.”

Jay shoots up in the dark, all vestiges of fatigue leaving him. 

“Wonie,” he breathes. He leans over to switch on his bedside lamp, blinking against the subtle light that floods the space, heart pounding in his chest. “What? What’s wrong?”

Something like a breathy laugh filters into his ear, immediately putting him a little at ease. He’s missed hearing the younger’s voice. More than he thought was possible. 

“Nothing,” Jungwon assures him, tone tainted with unmistakable fondness. “God, you’re such a predictable worrier.”

“Well,” Jay huffs. He pulls the phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. “Sue me. It is two in the morning.” 

“Ah- it is, isn’t it,” Jungwon sighs apologetically. “Sorry. You were sleeping.” It’s not a question. He knows what Jay’s voice sounds like when he’s just woken up anyway. 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. I don’t mind.” 

Jungwon laughs again, lightly. He sounds tired. 

“Predictable,” he repeats, almost a whisper, and holy fuck, Jay misses him. 

“You’re alright though? Why are you calling right now?” He thinks of the shitty cell service, then the unknown number, which means Jungwon’s not calling from his phone. “How are you calling right now?”

“Fucking- hold on,” Jungwon admonishes around a chuckle. “I’m using the camp phone. A landline.”

“Ah,” Jay hums. 

“And I-” Jungwon pauses, audibly shuffling around wherever he’s sitting- “wanted to tell you some news. I… don’t think you’re going to particularly like it.”

Jay doesn’t miss the way Jungwon’s tone sours at the end, like he’s already expecting a negative reaction from Jay. He steels himself, suddenly nervous. 

“How cryptic.”

“Sorry,” Jungwon snorts, voice momentarily drifting away as readjusts again with a grunt. “Um. So basically… they’re extending camp. For three more weeks.”

“Oh.” Jay’s heart deflates in his chest. Jungwon, of course, picks up on his disappointment in an instant. 

“I know, hyung. Believe me, I can’t wait to come home and- and see you-” Jungwon’s voice catches and he stops talking. Jay feels his eyebrows scrunch together as he listens to the extended pause from the other end of the line. 

Properly concerned when the silence continues, he’s about to say something when Jungwon starts up again just as quickly as he stopped. 

“I’m learning a lot. Most of the group is still in high school, so we have the time to add more days before school begins at the end of August. The leaders suggested it yesterday but we decided as a group just now and I wanted to tell you right away… Sorry again, about that. Should’ve waited ‘till morning.”

Jay swallows, mentally preparing to keep his tone light. It’s just three more weeks. He can do that. He can wait a little longer. 

“I already told you it’s fine, Won. I’m glad you called. And about staying... if you’re having fun that’s all that matters. I’ll survive on my own a little longer.”

They talk a little while longer, but Jungwon knows Jay has to be up for the internship in a few hours so he intentionally winds the conversation down. Jay holds his tongue and refrains from saying he’d stay up all night just to talk to him. He knows Jungwon needs to get some rest too. 

“Alright, gonna go now,” Jay sighs. “Text if you can?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon says. He really does sound so tired. 

“Okay.” Jay wishes he could reach through the line and tug Jungwon right back to him. “Goodnight, Wonie.”

“Night, hyung.”

(When the call ends, Jungwon’s eyes are filled with tears. He clenches his jaw, clearly trying to reign them in, but his lip trembles. The facade breaks. He holds the phone to his forehead, like his friend can hear him. Like he’s still there. 

“Hyung, I miss you,” he whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. “Need you. I’m scared.” He’s crying, tears wetting his cheeks in the dim lighting. 

Heeseung swallows and walks toward the bed the boy’s been stuck in for days now. He pries his phone away from Jungwon’s shaking fingers. 

“Lie down. You need to rest.” 

Jungwon doesn’t comply, hissing through his quiet breakdown when he accidentally twists his shoulder the wrong way. 

Heeseung knows he’s in an inscrutable amount of pain right now. It takes some coaxing, but Jungwon finally collapses to the mattress, unable to sit up anymore. The rather impressive act he put on while he was on the phone seems to have stolen the little energy he had left. His stuttering breaths turn ragged as the reminder of the torture his body is undergoing sets in again. The tears stop. His eyes glaze over.

Heeseung remembers what Jake told him about the transformation, all that time ago: When it’s happening it feels like everything’s on fire. It just… burns. Inside and out. It burns. 

“It’ll pass,” Heeseung tells Jungwon. His voice doesn’t waver, but the confidence in his heart does. Because this will pass. But what’s done is done. 

Jungwon stares unseeingly at him for a long moment before his eyes droop shut in exhaustion. When Heeseung turns, Jake is standing behind him, expression absolutely shattered. Heeseung wants to comfort him, reassure him of the guilt that’s surely tearing him apart, but he doesn’t know how. This situation is nothing short of a tragedy, though it was completely out of their hands. 

What do we do? Jake's eyes silently plead. 

We try to help him, Heeseung answers. In any way we can.)

»

The day Jungwon comes home, Jay is waiting for him in the driveway. 

Jungwon had accused him of being impatient when he found out on his drive home (over the phone because he actually had service- what a concept!), to which Jay fired back that he’d been patient for seven fucking weeks! By his standards, he has absolutely, one hundred percent earned the right to camp out in front of the younger’s house until he gets back. 

When Jungwon arrives, he’s barely put his car in park and slipped out of the driver’s seat before Jay barrels into him, crushing him in a hug. The force of his enthusiasm tips them right back into the side of the door, but Jungwon is laughing in Jay’s ear and Jay is holding him, and he doesn’t care about anything else in the world. 

“Good god,” Jungwon wheezes. He pulls back to meet Jay’s eyes, head knocking against the car as his wrists come up to cross behind Jay’s neck. “Missed me, huh?” 

Jay doesn’t give a flying fuck that the first thing Jungwon’s doing after getting back is teasing him. He wouldn’t have it any other way, actually. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, probably a bit too honest. Again, he doesn’t care. His ears are warm, and it has nothing to do with the late summer heat. His cheeks are throbbing, and it has everything to do with the smile only the very boy in front of him can pull out of him. 

Jungwon stares at him for a long moment, so sweetly. Jay feels choked up just taking him in, melting under his undivided attention. 

A distortion in the precious moment surfaces, however, when something foreign flickers to life in Jungwon’s eyes. His expression twists into something Jay can’t discern, the previously upturned corners of his mouth flattening out with each passing second. It’s so shocking of an emotional turn around that Jay struggles trying to instantly meet him where he’s at.

Before he can ask what’s wrong, Jungwon croaks, “I missed you too,” so… so serious, so vulnerable, that Jay couldn’t trick himself into thinking the younger wasn’t being wholeheartedly genuine if he tried. 

For a brief, horrible moment, Jay thinks that something’s wrong. 

But then he blinks, and whatever sort of hollowness he thought was in Jungwon’s eyes is gone. Jungwon leans forward to tuck his chin over Jay’s shoulder, the curve of his gentle smile dipping out of sight. Jay hugs him close to his chest, and the reassurance that he’s here now, right here within reach, ultimately sways his decision. 

He must have misunderstood. It must have been a trick of the light. 

»

In the morning they go to breakfast, since Jungwon’s parents are out of town again and there aren’t any groceries in the house. Jay slept over last night, like every weekend. He was excited to hear about camp, but Jungwon seemed tired and didn’t offer up much when Jay asked him about it. 

He did say a little about the sheer amount of hiking they did, which explains why the gait of his walk is a bit off; he’s still sore and trying to recover. Other than that, though, he didn’t really answer Jay’s questions. Instead he asked Jay things, like how his internship was, or how he, Sunghoon, and Sunoo have been settling into the new apartment. 

Jay has never been averse to keeping conversation going, especially if Jungwon doesn’t feel like talking much, but he found it a little strange how Jungwon seemed to skirt around the trip as a whole last night. Jay brushed it off, figuring the younger was just tired. 

Over cups of watered down coffee and steaming plates of food, Jay tries again. Again, Jungwon’s answers are brief and undetailed. 

“Jungwon,” Jay starts, setting down his mug with a dull thud. He’s careful to keep his tone from tapping into accusing territory. “What’s wrong?”

Jungwon freezes, but doesn’t look up. After a few seconds, he resumes chewing, slowly. He swallows. Then, he meets Jay’s eyes, but still doesn’t say a word. 

“Did you not have a good time?” Jay asks. Jungwon doesn’t answer, so he tries again. “It wasn’t what you expected?” 

Jungwon’s eyelids flutter and his shoulders droop from their tense state, a subtle movement that Jay catches anyway. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. “I was really excited the first month. Everything was going great and I was learning a lot, but…”

“The last three weeks were different?” Jay guesses. Jungwon’s face remains perfectly calm, nothing of concern presenting itself that Jay can detect. 

“Yeah,” Jungwon repeats. He turns his gaze to his plate, pushing around the scrambled eggs that have probably gone cold by now with his fork. “It was disappointing. I decided to stay because I thought it would be the same. But it… it just wasn’t.” 

Jay frowns. Jungwon was so excited for that camp, just to be let down. It makes him sad. 

“So. What are your thoughts on ranger-ing now?” he asks gently. 

The ghost of a smile tugs at Jungwon’s lips at the reappearance of the not-word. He shakes his head. 

“Not for me.”

Jay can sense Jungwon’s heavy mood when it comes to the topic, so he decides it would be best to drop it. Maybe for a long time, beyond just today, if the forlorn look on Jungwon’s face is anything to go by. Jay leans forward to rest his elbows on the table, the cheap plastic of the booth beneath him crunching noisily as he shifts. 

“Alright,” he muses quietly. “Well. At least the whole experience wasn’t in vain, right? Now you know that’s not what you want to do.”

Jungwon stares at him a second too long, eyes visibly three hours away, at some campsite in some forest Jay has never visited. Worry prickles at the inside of Jay’s ribcage, and he wonders just how much of a toll being out in the woods every day for almost two months truly took on Jungwon. 

“Right,” Jungwon answers, late. His voice is off, pitched too abnormally to have been natural. 

Jay watches him even after he shoots Jay a small smile that was meant to reassure him, even after he looks away. Jay watches him, and thinks that somehow, the boy sitting before him now is different from the boy he said goodbye to before he went on that trip. 

»

Jay realizes soon enough that his previous notion was pretty irrational. Apparently, his dramatic ass needs to learn when to chill the fuck out and not jump to conclusions every time Jungwon is even a fraction of upset. 

Jay spent the last week at school, trying (read: failing, miserably) to focus on his work. Instead of being a productive and responsible student, he stressed and fretted over how strange Jungwon acted the weekend before. 

Friday night couldn’t come quickly enough. Jay left his last afternoon class as soon as they were dismissed, dropped by the apartment to grab some clothes and say goodbye to Sunghoon and Sunoo, and started the two hour drive back home. 

Now, Jungwon is in his front seat, wrapped up in the ridiculous cat blanket Jay got him last year for Christmas (he insists Jay keeps his car in a state of air conditioning-induced permafrost, hence its appearance despite it practically still being summertime), and he seems every bit at ease as he usually is. 

After an hour of aimless driving, Jay spots a place to pull off and parks the car, overlooking a valley with tiny dots of a small town smattering the landscape. Jungwon undoes his seatbelt and shifts around in his seat, drawing his knees up to his chest. Jay laughs as he fights to get the blanket situated again and reaches over to help tug it closer to his chin. 

Jungwon looks over at him, really looks at him. Jay can’t fucking breathe. His subconscious whispers, as it always does in moments like this, what if? 

“Hey,” Jungwon says, slim fingers catching Jay’s wrist before he can pull his hand away from the blanket. 

“Hm?” Jay hums. He wasn’t prepared for Jungwon’s touch and he doesn’t trust his voice enough to say anything substantial aloud. 

“I know I was acting weird last week when I got back. I’m sorry if I worried you.” 

It’s sincere, and soft, and catches Jay even more off guard. He just spent an entire week harboring a shit ton of (borderline outrageous) worries, and here Jungwon is, addressing that very topic without Jay even saying a word about it. 

Jungwon looks out at the view. The day is slipping away and the setting sun casts gorgeous hues of burnt orange and faint pink on his skin. “The end of camp just threw me off and the disappointment was still lingering when I came home. That’s all.”

Jay shifts to take Jungwon’s hand fully in his, their palms flush against each other. “It’s okay. I mean, I was worried because I could tell something was off. But I’m sorry that it wasn’t what you wanted it to be.” 

Jungwon looks down at their hands. 

“Yeah,” he agrees wistfully. “Me too.”

And it’s mostly quiet after that. The sun sets and the lights in the town below flicker to life one by one and Jungwon doesn’t let go of his hand. Jay turns down the air conditioning and tries not to stare at the boy next to him until darkness eventually conceals his eyes, heavy laden and awestruck with every stolen glance he takes. 

»

Jay throws himself headfirst into his sophomore year. He and Jungwon talk as much as they can on the phone during the week, but Jungwon’s a senior in high school now, and he’s quite a bit busier than he was in the past. Still, every weekend, Jay drives home. Every weekend, it’s just the two of them. 

“Are they really gone again?” Jay exclaims when he arrives one Friday night in October. If Jungwon’s parents were home, the car his dad uses would be out here in the driveway instead of tucked away in the garage.

Jungwon is waiting for him in the arch of the front door with a resigned expression. He doesn’t say anything until Jay reaches him, and even then, all he offers is a mumbled, “Yeah.” 

Jay shakes his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. Jungwon just tries for a smile and tugs him into the house. He watches Jungwon trot into the kitchen to grab him a drink (he didn’t even ask, Jungwon is just considerate like that) and feels his chest tighten at the thought of the younger spending days at a time alone in this house. 

“I’m not alone,” Jungwon protests when Jay voices his concern. “I have Riki.”

Jay pauses while opening his drink to fix Jungwon with a deadpan look. 

“You forget that I know him, Won. The kid eats, sleeps, and breathes dance. He practices nonstop- like he’s got rent to pay, or something.”

Jungwon tilts his chin away, stubborn as always, nearly pouting. Jay forces himself not to coo at that particular stunt. Actually, he doesn’t think Jungwon even knows he’s doing it, which… god. Jay has fucking extraordinary self control. 

“So?” Jungwon huffs, petulant. 

“So,” Jay hands right back to him, “he doesn’t have time to come over here and hang out with you. Which means you’re alone until your parents come back, or until I get here on the weekends. Which makes me so sad I could actually cry.”

Jungwon faces him again, leaning against the counter, sickly sweet when he says, “You have always been a crybaby.”

Jungwon is not ticklish so Jay picks him up and walks him into the living room to deposit him on the couch instead. Jungwon pokes at his sides and giggles like a fucking hyena, the smile on his face blinding and radiant. Jay tries to let the lingering feeling of dread- he shouldn’t be alone, I don’t want to leave him alone- go. 

In the following weeks, every time Jay tries to get serious about asking if Jungwon’s okay at home by himself for days at a time, Jungwon waves him off and firmly insists that he’s “almost an adult anyway,” that he’s “not completely by himself” because of Riki (Jay still doesn’t think just seeing the young giant of a boy at school counts), that Jay’s “being silly again,” that he’s “fine.” Apparently, his parents have come home over the past couple months several times, just during the week while Jay’s at school. They’re always gone by the time the weekend rolls around. Jay tries to let it go. 

Right before Christmas, however, he puts his foot down. 

He has a month break from his classes between semesters, and he initially planned on spending every second of it he could with Jungwon. Jungwon, however, was sick last week and ordered him over the phone not to come visit until he got over it.

(“But Wonie-”

“Nuh uh. You’re not coming here just to catch what I have.”

“But what if you need medicine? Or soup? Or-”

“I am fully capable of getting those things myself.”

“Wonie.”

“Hyung. Stay home.”

“Jungwon. Your house is my home.”

“... That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Wha- that’s not even fucking true!”

“Sure! Whatever you say.”

“You are an insufferable brat, Yang Jungwon. Are you really not going to let me come take care of you?”

“Solid no. Show up and I’ll lock you out.”

“I’ve had a key to your house since the fifth grade, dumbass.”

“I’ll change the locks.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I love you too. I’ll let you know when I feel better.”)

Jungwon feels better a couple days later, which lands them where they are now, drinking pre-packaged hot chocolate under a giant blanket on Jungwon’s back porch. 

This house belonged to Jungwon’s grandma; her daughter, Jungwon’s mom, inherited it when she passed. It’s a beautiful estate built on the very edge of town. The porch wraps around the entire backside of the house, facing the forest that stretches out for miles beyond the eye can see. Jay and Jungwon grew up playing together in this backyard, and the easy access to the woods fed into Jungwon’s love for nature from a young age, hence his going to that camp last summer. 

Jay shivers against the bitter chill even though his hands are wrapped around a scalding hot mug and his entire body is trapped under the gigantic quilt they dragged out from the musty hall closet. Sniffling, he scoots closer to Jungwon, the bench swing they’re sharing swaying with his movement. 

“Glad you’re feeling better,” he murmurs quietly. The sun set long ago, thanks to the winter months. The characteristic serenity of night seems too precious to disrupt so Jay keeps his voice down. 

Jungwon leans his head on Jay’s shoulder, already having abandoned his hot chocolate on the floor of the deck. “Me too. Sorry to shun you away. Just didn’t want you to get sick.”

It scares Jay, how he nearly turns and plants a kiss to Jungwon’s forehead on pure instinct. He swallows past the lump in his throat and tries to sort through his jumble of thoughts. 

They converse about their weeks, each bemoaning how they did nothing productive whatsoever. Jay points out that Jungwon at least had an excuse to laze around in bed, as he wasn’t feeling well. Jungwon pats his thigh and assures him he did just fine. 

Jay tells Jungwon all about his mom’s grandiose plans for next week when he visits his parents’ beach house, and how she won’t stop obsessing over having everything absolutely perfect by the time he arrives, like he hasn’t gone out there three times already since they moved in. 

When he asks Jungwon about his plans with his parents, Jungwon goes quiet. Something heavy and unforgiving drops in Jay’s gut. It takes time, but eventually Jungwon reveals that his parents are not coming home for Christmas. 

Jay turns his face to the forest and bites his tongue so he doesn’t say something distasteful about Jungwon’s parents right in front of him. Jungwon loves and respects them, even though they’ve been leaving him alone for extended periods of time like this for years. Jay tries to maintain a similar level of respect for them, since they don’t leave Jungwon to suffer- they send weekly money for groceries and stay on top of electric and water bills. They provide whatever Jungwon needs, if only he asks. 

But they’re not here, and Jay doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive them for that. 

“Come with me, then,” Jay says, turning back to face the boy beside him. Jungwon’s eyes glitter even in the dark, even with only a fraction of moonlight illuminating the covered porch. His gaze is imploring, but he says nothing. 

“Spend Christmas with me.” 

“Hyung,” Jungwon sighs a couple beats later, voice small. “It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s fine,” Jay pleads. Jungwon snaps his mouth shut. “It’s not fine.”

And there are so many more things Jay wants to say. You don’t deserve it. I don’t care how old you are, it’s not fair to you. They shouldn’t leave you alone as much as they do. I fucking hate it. I fucking hate that I’m not here with you all the time. I fucking hate that you feel like you have to pretend it doesn’t bother you. 

He wants to say it all, wants to scream it at the top of his lungs, but he clenches his jaw and seals his lips shut instead. Jungwon notices, as he always does. He loops his arm through Jay’s, gently, as if he’s allowing Jay the time and room to pull away if he wanted (never, never). The tension seeps out of Jay’s frame just like that. 

“I don’t want to impose,” Jungwon admits, cheek squished against Jay’s shoulder. Jay knocks their heads together. 

“You idiot,” he huffs, but even he can hear the fondness in his own voice. “You could never.”

A gust of wind ruffles their blanket. Jungwon presses even closer. “Your mom won’t mind?” 

“I’m actually convinced mom loves you more than me, so no. She will definitely not mind.”

Jungwon swats at his chest for the self-deprecating comment with a snort. Jay makes a point to pause then, looking Jungwon square in the eye. 

“Come with me?” he repeats, this time softly, accompanying the night. 

Jungwon, with glistening eyes and the smallest of half-smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth, nods, and Jay feels peace bloom like a flower in his chest. 

»

Predictably, Jay’s parents are ecstatic about Jungwon coming to spend Christmas with them. Jay’s mother coos and fusses over Jungwon as soon as they arrive, who flushes (adorably) under the attention. Jay’s father- the esteemed cook of the family and source of Jay’s natural culinary gifts- makes so much food for their “homecoming” that the leftovers barely fit in the fridge. 

The days pass quickly. Immersed in a new town that’s not nearly as cold as it is back home, the two of them have no trouble finding things to do. Mostly, though, they spend time at the beach, because even though Jungwon’s always up for anything, Jay has a hunch he likes resting by the ocean a lot more than he lets on. 

Christmas day is a warm, festive affair. Jay’s parents had already accumulated quite the stash of gifts for Jungwon before they even knew he was coming; paired with all of Jay’s presents, it’s safe to say Jungwon is not missing out in that regard this year. Jungwon thanks them all a million times, to the point that Jay deadass starts to hush him, because he doesn’t seem to understand just how welcome he is here. 

When they go to bed that night, Jungwon is quiet. The two of them are staying in the spare room, and there’s only one bed. Sharing isn’t the problem- that’s what they do every weekend when Jay visits anyway- it’s that this bed is small. Much smaller than Jungwon’s back home. Jay fights to keep his heartbeat under control each time they turn out the lights and slip under the covers. 

Tonight, Jungwon seems to be having trouble falling asleep. Since they’re so close together, his back keeps brushing against Jay’s, every minuscule movement amplified in the dark. The third time he shifts in a few minutes’ time, Jay rolls over to face him. 

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers. He can barely make out the shake of Jungwon’s head. 

Jay thinks for a moment, then sits up. He pushes the covers away, wraps his hand around Jungwon’s elbow. 

“C’mon,” he urges. Jungwon rises without asking him where, or why. Jay leads him outside, heart in his throat. 

They sit in the sand a couple meters from his parents’ house. Ocean waves lap up on the shore in a foamy, sleepy sort of trance and it would be easy to get lost in the consistent rhythm of it. But Jay is paying more attention to Jungwon. 

Over the past couple weeks, he’s noticed that sometimes this- this look takes over Jungwon’s gaze. It’s always fleeting. Never obvious. Jay catches it because he’s looking for it, and because Jungwon always has his full attention anyway. Tonight, Jungwon sits with his arms locked around his knees, staring out at the sea’s expanse with a blank expression. His eyes, though…

His eyes look sad. Sometimes, Jay’s mind even whispers the word Haunted. Jay feels so incredibly helpless. He drowns in it. He doesn’t know what to do.  

“Wonie,” he murmurs. He watches Jungwon blink, watches him come back to the present. Watches him prepare to have Jay’s eyes boring into his before he finally turns to face him. 

“Yeah?” His voice is soft and lilting and sweet. Jay doesn’t know of a universe that could exist where he wouldn’t be in love with him. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He doesn’t know why he says it, why he feels he needs to. But he watches that something crash down in Jungwon’s expression, in his eyes. Jay wonders if it was the right thing to say after all. 

The cloudy sky blocks out the moon and offers no reprieve to the darkness, but Jay still thinks he catches a glimpse of wetness in Jungwon’s eyes as he shuffles forward to lean against him. Jay draws him closer without a breadth of hesitation, mind whirling. 

“I know,” Jungwon whispers into his chest. 

The tide rises and falls. Minutes pass. Silence swells. Eventually, they go back inside and return to bed. 

They don’t talk about it in the morning. 

»

The new year rolls around. Days come and go, blurring together with school assignments and late night phone calls and busy schedules. 

One night in Jungwon’s kitchen, Jay asks the younger boy if he’s excited for his birthday. It’s still over a week away, but Jay has always treated February ninth like a holiday (it is in his books) and has no problem bringing it up an unnecessary amount of times before it actually arrives. Jungwon is, notably, not as thrilled as he is. 

The conversation that follows is stilted and painful, once Jungwon reveals that once again, his parents aren’t coming home. It’s his eighteenth birthday, and they couldn’t even be bothered- 

Jay sees red. He doesn’t hold back like he did at Christmas. He can’t. He curses and raises his voice at those terrible, neglectful people until he realizes Jungwon is just watching him silently, completely unmoving. Jay stops, bracing his hands against the counter and hanging his head. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, for making a scene. He gathers himself, then gathers Jungwon in his arms.  

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers, again, for Jungwon and the absence of those who are supposed to be here for him. Jungwon shudders in his hold- at the name that accidentally slipped off his tongue, or another reason entirely, Jay doesn’t know. 

But Jay swears to himself that Jungwon won’t be alone that day. He’ll whisk him away from this house and take him back to the beach, or wherever his heart desires. He’ll shower him with so much affection, Jungwon won’t be able to doubt for even a second how loved he is. 

(When Jay passes out on the couch that night, Jungwon allows the movie he’s hardly been paying attention to anyway to officially fade into background noise. His eyes trace the lines of the older’s face- the hard and the soft, perfect ratios of the living, breathing enigma that he is. Flawless. Unattainable. 

Jungwon thinks of Jay’s whispered words, of his caressing hands, of his searching eyes, of all the things he doesn’t know. 

“I don’t deserve you, hyung,” Jungwon whispers, strained. “I’m so sorry.”

The lies tug him in too many different directions at once. He’s ridden with guilt, yet encumbered by no other choice than to tell them. He’s ripping at the seams. Someday, he might snap. 

And if he does, he’ll lose Jay because of it.)  

»

At the end of February, Jay gets a call from Riki. His last Friday class let out not too long ago, and he’s just parked outside his apartment complex. 

“Riki, hey!” he greets, settling back in his seat. “It’s been a while.”

“Hi, hyung,” Riki answers. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Dance- you know.”

“Oh you don’t have to apologize, I get it. Everything’s been going well, though?”

“Mh hm.” 

“Good, good.” 

A period of silence follows, one that is wholly uncharacteristic of their typical conversations. They’ve known each other for years, ever since Jay enrolled in a dance camp in their hometown a couple summers back, and it’s never been difficult for them to carry on a steady conversation. Jay starts to get worried. 

“Riki?” 

The younger boy lets out a breath on the other side of the line, and it comes through unmistakably shaky. Now Jay is really worried. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Riki sighs again, like there’s not enough air wherever he is, like he can’t catch his breath. 

“It’s… it’s Jungwon hyung.” 

Fierce terror grips Jay’s heart, then releases it in an instant to pump icy hot panic through his veins. 

“Something’s wrong, hyung,” Riki’s saying. His voice sounds muffled, far away. “His parents haven’t been coming home.” 

Out of all things, the last portion is what Jay’s scattered brain latches on to. He splutters, “What… what d’you...” 

Distortedly, he recalls all the times Jungwon reported his parents came home during the week while Jay was at school. It’s fine, hyung. I’m fine. They came back for a couple days but they’re really busy with work so they had to go again. They’ll be back soon. You don’t need to- 

Riki’s voice cuts through the fog of his memories, sloshing to the forefront of the cacophony of noise in Jay’s head. “I know, hyung. He’s been giving me excuses, too. But I’ve made a point to swing by his house every day I can and… the car is never in the driveway. No lights are ever on unless Jungwon hyung is home. The yard work doesn’t get done unless he does it. They… they haven’t shown up in months.” 

Months. Months. Jay is dumbfounded to utter silence. He can’t manage any sort of reply. 

“Sometimes he just… disappears. He won’t be at school for two, three days at a time. When I call, he always says he’s sick, but fine. He doesn’t let me bring him anything. If I try to drop by his house he doesn’t let me in.” 

The weight of Riki’s words is a merciless blow to Jay. As if he’s fallen flat on his back, the wind is knocked out of him- because on his way home, just minutes ago, Jungwon called to tell him he was sick. 

He told Jay he was fine. He told him to stay away for the weekend.  

“It doesn’t make sense,” Riki’s voice cracks over the line, distressed. “I mean, you know him, hyung! He’s always had some crazy strong immune system and all the sudden he gets sick at least once a month? It doesn’t make any fucking sense, but every time I try to ask him what’s wrong he pushes me away and I don’t know what to do.”

“Riki, hey,” Jay interjects, battling to mask his voice and make it relatively level for the younger’s sake. “Deep breath, buddy. It’s-” It’s not okay- “We’ll figure this out.”

Riki obediently takes a moment to recollect himself. 

“It’s just… I noticed his parents weren’t coming home a while ago. I should’ve said something to you right away, but he begged me not to tell you and- god, I’m so sorry, hyung.”  

He begged me not to tell you. 

“Don’t apologize,” Jay manages, reeling. He begged me not to tell you. “Thank you for telling me now. Calm down, okay? I’m going to talk to him. I’ll figure out what’s wrong.”

“Okay. Okay, thanks, hyung. I’ve got to- I have practice, but I just had to tell you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Jay sits numb and disoriented after the call ends. He tries to take a deep breath but it gets caught somewhere in his chest. His parents haven’t been coming home.

He pulls up his contacts. They haven’t shown up in months.  

He presses call. Sometimes he just disappears. 

The dial tone sounds once. He always says he’s sick.  

Twice. He begged me not to tell you-

“Hyung, I promise I’m okay,” Jungwon groans as he picks up. “You’ve got to stop worrying about me so much.”

Jay stares unseeingly through his front windshield, the knot in his chest tightening. He can’t muster up a single word. 

“Hyung?” Jungwon hesitates, sensing something is amiss with Jay’s silence. 

After a horrible period of building tension, Jay decides his course of action. 

“Where are your parents?” he asks, voice gruff. 

“My... what do you mean? They’re out of town, hyung. You know that.”

“Jungwon,” Jay breathes, his mounting fury raising its hackles, rearing its ugly head. He squeezes his eyes shut. His voice, so low he barely recognizes it himself, leaves no room for questioning when he grits out, “I talked to Riki.”

Jungwon goes dead silent. Jay can feel it: Jungwon knows he knows. 

“So I’m going to ask again,” Jay says, grappling to keep himself in check. He doesn’t want this to go south before he receives a proper explanation. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. “Where are your parents, Jungwon?” 

It takes so, so long, but the younger’s defeated answer finally comes. 

“In America.” 

America. Jay swallows past his shock. 

“And how long have they been there?” 

An even longer pause follows, in which Jay grits his teeth and grips the door handle with his free hand. 

“Since August,” Jungwon whispers.

“Jesus christ, Jungwon,” Jay exclaims, pulling away from the phone. August. He’s been keeping the truth from you since fucking August. Why?

Something dawns on Jay, then. He draws the phone back to his ear, but already knows before he even asks that it’s another lie. 

“Are you even sick?”  

Jungwon does not answer him. Jay slams the car into reverse. 

“I’m coming over.” And he hangs up. 

»

Jay makes the two hour trip in an hour and twenty minutes, fueled by a distinct sort of anger. He’s angry at Jungwon for lying. He’s angry that he doesn’t know why. He’s angry that he didn’t notice sooner. 

Actually, he’s angry that he did notice, but didn’t do a single fucking thing about it. He always brushed it off. He always blamed it on his tendency to overthink when it comes to Jungwon. All the little signs he’s noticed over the past couple months- haunted eyes and forced smiles and too calculated I’m fine’s- do they all accumulate to whatever this is? Whatever’s wrong? Will it all trace back to this? 

Jay doesn’t fucking know. It makes him angry enough to floor it down the highway the entire way there. 

When he pulls into Jungwon’s driveway he doesn’t hesitate to cut the engine and stalk up to the house. The front door’s unlocked. 

And he had tried to prepare, all the way here, what he would say. What he would do. Now, barging into the living room, he sees Jungwon drenched in nothing but firelight, crumpled in on himself in one of the armchairs, and the look on his face shoots Jay’s defenses down in an instant. Because never, in all the years Jay has known him, has he looked like this. 

He’s grieving. 

What, Jay doesn’t know. But he does know this is bigger than him. Whatever it is, it’s wildly important, and horrible. Nothing else but that could make eighteen year old Jungwon look like he’s already lived a thousand lives, like he’s already experienced something that weighs down on his shoulders and squashes his presence in this room. 

Jay surrenders his anger, succumbing to trepidation instead. He winds around the couch slowly, takes a seat on the edge of the coffee table, right in front of Jungwon’s chair. Jungwon’s eyes have followed his every movement since he entered the house, heavy and overflowing with a sort of sadness Jay can only categorize as sorrow. Jay can’t take it anymore. 

“Jungwon, what’s going on?”

The younger boy doesn’t look away when he says, “You’re not going to believe me.” 

“Then help me understand,” Jay pleads. Jungwon eyelids flutter, like they always do when he’s feeling too much. When he’s trying to hold back tears. 

“It’ll ruin everything,” he says. His voice is faint, not burdened with even a hint of desperation, and Jay realizes that it’s because Jungwon is not trying to convince him. He already thinks it’s true. “It won’t be the same.”

Jay feels like he’s grasping at straws in the dark, stumbling aimlessly as he tries to find the right thing to say. 

“Nothing could ever change what we have, Jungwon,” he tells him. 

Jungwon’s eyes gloss over with tears. He does not shake his head, or grasp at Jay with frantic hands. He just looks Jay straight in the eye like he’s terribly misunderstood, clearly convinced that whatever this is will turn Jay away. 

“Hyung,” he says. Soft. Firm. “I’m not the same.”

Jay has not touched him yet, but he can’t help it now. He reaches with the swiftness and gentleness of the wind, brushing Jungwon’s bangs off his forehead. His skin is warmer than usual. 

“Wonie,” he murmurs, thumb smoothing over the younger’s brow. “Trust me. I’m not going anywhere. Just… talk to me.”

And Jungwon’s face does not change, but the tempest in his eyes rages. He pulls away from Jay’s hand. Jay lets him go. 

He doesn’t believe me. He’s so scared to tell me whatever this is that he doesn’t believe I won’t leave his side. What could be so detrimental? 

Jungwon turns his face to the fire, and even now, fighting some internal battle Jay is not yet aware of, he’s beautiful. Jungwon stares at the flames until Jay thinks he’s forgotten he’s here. Jungwon stares until he starts speaking, and even then, he doesn’t look away from the fire eating away at the wood on the hearth. 

“Last summer I sent you a text the night before our last big hike. In the morning we got up early, hiked until noon. Stopped for lunch.” 

Jungwon pauses. Jay waits. 

“Then I got separated from the group.”

Fear does not wait for the rest of the explanation. Fear scrapes its twisted, ruthless fingers across Jay’s heart, who wilts under the influx of panicked questions that flood his mind. He forces himself to shut them out, for now. 

“I tried to go back the way we came but I didn’t know where I was. Sometime in the afternoon I twisted my ankle. That slowed me down.”

Jay’s heart pulses in time with the distinct detachedness draping over Jungwon’s being. His eyes slip away from the fire, from this house, and take him back to wherever he was in the forest. Hurt and lost. Alone. Scared. 

“I walked until late. Midnight, I think. I climbed a hill to try and figure out where I was but I couldn’t see anything. And then…”

“Take your time,” Jay whispers, when Jungwon’s chest expands with a rapid inhale. Jungwon closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. 

“There was this noise,” he says, voice muffled, but pitched higher than before. Jay realizes this is it: the accumulation. 

Something happened on that hill. 

“I knew something was coming,” Jungwon continues, before Jay is ready, before he’ll ever be ready. “Knew I had to get away. I tried- but my ankle-”

Jungwon stops abruptly. Raises his head, eyes still downcast. 

“This thing came out of the shadows. And I didn’t know what it was then, but...”

Jungwon meets Jay’s eyes, and looks at him. Really looks at him. It steals the breath from Jay’s lungs, because Jungwon looks like he’s bracing himself. 

Like he’s getting ready to say goodbye. 

“It was a werewolf, hyung.”

And everything else fades away. 

The words echo hollowly in Jay’s head. He cannot make sense of them.

“A human, in werewolf form,” Jungwon says. Distantly, Jay registers that his tone has changed again, that he’s speaking to him like Jay’s cornered somewhere, wide-eyed with terror. “He wasn’t in control of his mind or body when he bit me.”

Jay must make a noise because Jungwon reacts for the first time. His eyes snap away from Jay’s, the last bit of current contact between them broken. Even still, he plows onward, every word laden with apparent struggle. 

“His name’s Jake. His boyfriend- Heeseung- saved me.”

“From him,” Jay chokes without thinking, horrified at the sick impossibility of this. The hurt in Jungwon’s eyes deepens.

“When I found out it had been Jake, I didn’t know what to think. I probably should’ve been angry, but. I could only be wary of him at first. The more he was around though, the more I realized he’s the kindest, most gentle person. He didn’t do it to me on purpose. It wasn’t him at all.” 

Jungwon has always had a naturally understanding nature. Forgiving. In this outlandish, alien situation, applications of those qualities don’t make any sense to Jay. How could Jungwon forgive someone who harmed him? No matter what form in which they-

Suddenly, Jungwon’s words slam back into him:

He bit me.

Jay stares at Jungwon as the pieces come together. Jungwon watches him with those haunted, grieving eyes, and Jay finally understands why it seems that Jungwon has been silently bidding him farewell all this time. 

“He bit you,” Jay repeats, nothing more than a rasp scratching past his throat. “Did it… are you…”

Jungwon is silent for a long, drawn out moment. Then he nods, with all the grave seriousness of someone who just sealed their fate. 

Jungwon is a werewolf. 

Jay’s world tilts off kilter, and he floats. In the sky, in the depths, in the ocean, in nothing at all. He’s not sure how long he’s gone, but Jungwon’s voice calls him back to the surface, going on in a weary voice as if what he last confirmed wasn’t world-stopping. 

“They have a cabin in the woods they stay at a couple days a month for Jake. They took me there. Heeseung asked where I’d come from and then called the camp to explain where I was. I still don’t know what he told them, but he went and picked up my car and no issues ever came up. 

Then they... had to explain everything to me. That werewolves are real. That my body was going through the process of turning into one. Jake was turned a couple years ago, and he remembered the worst parts so he tried to help me through it best he could. On the fourth night he woke me up. Said it was about to get really bad.”

A crack in Jungwon’s armor shows. 

“So I called you,” he says, voice breaking. 

Ice water could have been doused on Jay’s head and he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference from the prickling on his skin when he fucking realizes that that phone call- the one in the middle of the night when he was so worried at first that something was wrong- was the night Jungwon is talking about now. 

“I told you camp was extended for three weeks because I couldn’t come back yet and I needed to buy myself some time. I told you nothing was wrong, told you not to worry-” Jungwon hiccups on the breath he sucks in- “but I fucking lied, and I’ve been lying ever since. I knew about my parents. I knew they planned to stay in the U.S. when they went over there. Once the summer was up, I needed them to because if they were here, I wouldn’t be able to fucking hide this from them!” 

Jungwon is ablaze with conviction, with sorrow. It lights up his irises, dulls around the edges. 

“I knew that if you found out they weren’t here, you’d do something rash like move back here and try to commute, or drop college altogether. I know you would’ve in a heartbeat. You’re too good, hyung.”

Just like that, the light in Jungwon’s eyes diminishes completely. He looks the shell of the boy Jay knows.

“And still, what I’ve said- it’s not enough,” Jungwon says in a splintered whisper. “Hyung... I’m so sorry. For lying, for everything else. I thought I could hide this part of me forever. Could learn how to deal with it on my own. Thought that maybe, somehow, I could… keep you in my life.”

He still thinks you’re going to leave him.

The thought, crystal clear in the face of Jungwon’s words, is enough for Jay to gain control of his body again. He tips forward, knocking his forehead against Jungwon’s as one of his hands goes to cup the back of the younger’s neck. 

“Don’t,” he rasps, and only then does he recognize the pinching in his throat, that he’s crying. “Don’t say that, Wonie. I’m not leaving you, okay? You hear me?” He raises his other hand, tucks it behind Jungwon’s right ear. “This- this doesn’t change anything. I’m still with you. ‘M not going anywhere.” 

Jungwon stares at him, gaping, before the floodgates open. He fists his hands in the front of Jay’s sweatshirt as he lets out a sob. 

“You believe me?” he asks, weak and watery. Jay swallows, running his thumb over the shell of Jungwon’s ear. 

“I don’t completely understand,” he admits. “I don’t think I’ve… processed it, really. But I believe you.”

Relief is short-lived on Jungwon’s features. His expression disintegrates to one of guilt, but this time his tears are accompanied with noiseless breaths and trembling hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpers, shaking his head. “I kept all this from you- I- I’m so sorry, hyung, I was so scared I’d lose you- I thought-”

“Hey, hey,” Jay soothes. “Calm down, it’s okay. No apologies between us, yeah? You’re okay. You’re okay, Won.”

Jay whispers and comforts and rocks them back and forth until the fire diminishes to mere embers, until his body aches from the awkward position. 

“Is it tonight?” he asks, terrified of the answer. He’s unprepared. He doesn’t know what to do, what Jungwon turning entails, how to help him- 

But Jungwon shakes his head. 

“Tomorrow. I just… I said I was sick because I knew if you came over tonight, I wouldn’t be able to get you to leave by then.”

It’s quiet again.

The impending doom of tomorrow night robs what little light was left in the room. It sucks out the air, makes it difficult to breathe. Jay sits and struggles, and wonders how Jungwon made it this far on his own, without telling a soul. 

»

Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted, the two of them head upstairs for bed far earlier than they usually do.

In his haste to get on the road, Jay hadn’t grabbed clothes or overnight things from his apartment before leaving. All the clothes he’s left over the years are still here though, tucked away in the bottom drawer of Jungwon’s dresser that’s specifically dedicated to his belongings, so it doesn’t matter. 

Jungwon directs him to just use his stuff if he wants to shower. The younger sifts through the bathroom to find a spare toothbrush for Jay and hands it to him, who’s absolutely reeling as they move around in relative silence because werewolves exist, and here they are, doing the same routine to get ready for bed that they have for years. 

Jay is trying to make sense of it, to wrap his head around… all of it. He’s still trying as he takes up on Jungwon’s offer to use the shower, as he changes into an old pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt from high school, as he brushes his teeth over the sink. 

Once he goes out and sits on Jungwon’s bed, though, his brain goes strangely quiet. He organizes his thoughts while Jungwon showers, prioritizing what’s important at the moment and what is not. 

So when the bathroom door opens and closes with a click a while later, Jay feels his thoughts are a little more sorted out than they were before. Jungwon comes and sits on the bed, mirroring Jay’s cross legged position in front of him. His hair is wet, his eyes tired. 

Jay doesn’t want to push him after all he’s shared tonight. He promises himself he will back off immediately if Jungwon shows even a glimpse of hesitation in reaction to the question that’s been on Jay’s mind for half an hour now. 

“Did it hurt?” Jay asks softly. Jungwon regards him for a moment, not appearing to be disturbed by the question. 

“The bite? Or the transformation?” he says, just as soft. 

“Both,” Jay clarifies after a beat, even though he thinks he already knows the answer. 

“Yeah,” is Jungwon’s response. Jay’s heart sinks. Yes to both. They both hurt him. 

Jungwon shifts, the comforter twisting beneath him. He stares at his lap, sleeves pulled over his hands. 

“The bite was… At first my adrenaline was high so I couldn’t really feel it. But then I registered the fangs in my shoulder and it… felt like they were hitting bone.”

Jay shudders, insides twisting in protest at the mere mention of the experience. Jungwon keeps his chin tucked to his chest, words methodic and slow. 

“I must have passed out because I don’t remember Heeseung taking me to the cabin. When I woke up, Jake was back. It felt like there was this… fire burning me from the inside out. It hurt so much, but I thought I’d be able to bear it. Then Jake told me it was going to get worse.” 

Jungwon takes a deep breath. 

“And it did,” he says, voice far away again. “After I called you. There’s venom in the bite that spreads to every region of the body before it-” Jungwon stops, visibly considering how to censor his words for Jay’s sake- “well. It was all to prepare my body to turn every full moon.”

“You can tell me.” Jay barely recognizes his own voice, shaking with uncharacteristic tremors. Jungwon’s eyes flick up to him, his gaze turning into one of warning. Do you really want to know this?  

Jay cannot take on his pain, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to alleviate a fraction of the stress Jungwon struggles under having to keep all this to himself. So Jay nods- tell me, please tell me- a silent plea. Nodding is all he can manage.

Jungwon fixes him with steady eyes a couple seconds longer, as if giving Jay an out now. Jay stands his ground. Jungwon concedes. 

“The venom snaps every bone in your body,” he says, tone flat. “When I turn every full moon, it happens in a matter of seconds, but right after I was bit I was going through the initial transformation, and that takes weeks. Because instead of doing it all at once, only one bone breaks at a time.”

Jay breathes in short and sharp through his nose, tipping his head back in an effort to stave off the scalding hot tears pricking his eyes. The absolute agony of such a tortuous experience- he cannot even imagine it. And Jungwon suffered it, alone- then and since then- in silence. 

The last thing Jungwon needs right now is the task of tending to Jay’s tears. Scrambling to distract him Jay asks, voice quivering, “The bite’s on your shoulder?” 

Jungwon is no fool. It could be pitch black in the room, and he would know Jay’s upset by an off intake of his breath. There’s not completely darkness, anyway; the pale moonlight filtering through the window lays Jay bare.

He finally lowers his chin and realizes Jungwon’s eyes have been on him this whole time. He thinks he detects a glimpse of pity flash across Jungwon’s expression, and that’s what does Jay in. Because even now, in this moment, Jungwon is worrying about him. About how he’s taking all this. 

“Can I see?” Jay croaks, at his breaking point. And he doesn’t know why he asks, but figures it all comes back to the root of it: he wants Jungwon to know that there is no part of himself he has to hide from Jay. 

Belatedly, it strikes Jay how intimate a question it is that he’s asked, but the younger boy does not react in hesitation or refusal. His eyes simply search Jay’s, flickering over his face with the silent question he asks once again: Are you sure?  

Once again, Jay’s silent answer is the same: Your burden is mine. Please understand that. You don’t deserve to handle this on your own. You don’t need to.

Jungwon understands Jay’s confirmation, and nods, only once, as if to himself. He twists on the bed so his back is facing Jay. 

Jay watches the younger’s shoulders rise and fall as he works himself through several rounds of deep breaths. He wants to place a comforting hand on him to help calm him, but he understands that this may be a huge mental step for Jungwon to take after hiding it from Jay- and everyone- for so long. He gives Jungwon the time and space that he needs. 

The heater clicks on, rattling in the walls of this old, memory-ridden house. A branch from the tree outside the window taps gently at the glass as the wind blows. Jungwon sits and breathes. Jay sits with his heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

And finally, Jungwon moves. He reaches back and clutches the material of his sweater in one hand, right at the neckline. He draws it up and over his head, revealing a wake of pale, smooth skin, then… a jagged scar. It travels from his right shoulder blade, up and over his shoulder to his front. 

And something deep within Jay’s soul snaps. 

Everything he’s heard thus far has worn him down, but this- the physical evidence of the suffering Jungwon underwent- breaks him. His tears overflow, burning streaks down his face. He clamps down on his bottom lip as he runs a knuckle, starting from the bottom, over the knobs of Jungwon’s spine. 

“It’s okay,” Jungwon whispers several moments later, when Jay has stopped over the raised bumps of the colored scar. He takes Jay’s hand and guides it closer. “You can touch. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

Jungwon’s hand falls away. Jay runs his finger over the scar. His tears don’t stop.  

At some point, the sobs he was trying to hold back start to escape him, puffing out in irregular rhythms, and then he can’t stop just letting them go. 

“Hyung,” sweet, sweet Jungwon murmurs, leaning into him after he’s pulled his sweater back on. “I’m okay.” 

Jay winds an arm around Jungwon’s waist and tugs his hips backward so he’s closer. He presses his face to the younger’s left shoulder as he cries. This kind of grief scares him. He drowns in it, mourning all the times Jungwon was silent, aching for all the times Jungwon needed anyone here with him, but instead was alone. 

Jungwon reaches back and cards his fingers through the hair at the nape of Jay’s neck, sways them back and forth just as Jay did downstairs, what seems like ages ago now. 

Eventually, Jay stops crying. Eventually, Jungwon adjusts the arm around his waist to turn and face him, to lay them both down. Eventually, Jay feels drowsiness tugging at his eyes, even though he thought that would be impossible tonight. 

“Sorry,” he rasps. Only part of his mind can rally the energy to be frustrated with himself for giving in and breaking down when Jungwon was the one who needed comfort tonight. 

But Jungwon just runs a delicate thumb over the dried tear tracks on his cheeks and murmurs, “No apologies between us.”

Jay drifts off to sleep.

»

“Jungwon,” Jay says in the morning, when they wake up. 

Jungwon looks over at him, sitting up in the bed. The rising sun makes a blinding appearance through the bedroom window, creating a halo of light behind his head. He embodies the kind of beauty that nothing- no sunrise nor landscape- could ever compare to. 

“How can I help tonight?” 

Something bleeds into Jungwon’s eyes, a look Jay is quickly realizing means You don’t want to know the answer to that . The younger boy glances away, at the bedspread they never peeled back before falling asleep in each other’s arms last night. 

“You don’t have to stay,” he says in lieu of answering, barely a mutter of words at all. And yet, Jay hears him. Loud and clear. 

“Jungwon, listen to me,” Jay says, unyielding in his desperation to have the other understand that him being here is non-negotiable. Jungwon’s fingers still, clutched in a rip in the old bedcover. “I’m not leaving you. Nothing you said last night- nothing you say today or tomorrow, nothing you do is ever going to be enough to make me do that.” 

Trying to allow a moment for it to sink in, Jay pauses. Jungwon’s eyes find his in the silence, revealing a fissure in the wall he’s guarded himself with for so long. Jay scrambles at the opportunity to reassure him, voice wobbling around the words- 

“Nothing, okay? I’m gonna be here. No matter what, I’ll be here.” 

Jungwon nods, eyes suspiciously wet. He seems to hesitate for a moment, then- reaches his hand out slowly, an offering. Jay takes up on it, grasping the younger’s hand within his own as relief crashes like waves inside him. This- that he’s not leaving- Jungwon seems to believe now, at least. 

“Alright, now. How can I help you tonight?”

Jungwon swallows. 

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. Jay feels his eyebrows draw together in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well once I turn back I usually just… make it to the porch and pass out for a couple hours. That’s all I can do.” 

Concern strikes Jay’s system like lightning. “Because you…”

Jungwon is merciful in the way he finishes Jay’s sentence, so he doesn’t have to say the words aloud. 

“Because I’m exhausted. And because there’s… dirt. And blood.” 

Blood. It echoes relentlessly in Jay’s head, louder and louder with every reverb, until he can’t stand it anymore. 

“Should I-” he chokes on his words, tries again. “Of course I’ll bring you inside, but- should I wipe you down? And- are there usually cuts, or-?”

Jungwon nods, but not before a display of plain hesitation in fear of how Jay will take it- which is not well. Jay feels the wind punched out of his gut at the image of Jungwon stumbling out of the woods covered in bruises and gashes- stumbling back to an empty house without anyone to take care of him. Jay hangs his head, taking a deep breath and releasing his knee-jerk impulse to freak the fuck out and break down again as he lets it out. 

“Okay. Okay,” he says, more to himself than Jungwon. “So I’ll make sure you’re safe inside and clean you up, and then I’ll take care of any-” 

“Hyung.” Jungwon’s free hand slides up to the crook of his elbow, effectively stopping him. Jay registers that he’s out of breath and can’t recall how that happened. 

“My body heals quickly,” Jungwon tells him. “The night it happens is always the worst, but then it gets better. The cuts, the bruising- it all goes away. Only the scar stays. So don’t worry.” 

Don’t worry. Don’t worry.

»

Jay does worry, all day long. 

The hours tick by so slowly, yet too fast at the same time. Jay dreads nightfall, but is also incredibly anxious for its arrival. 

“You said Heeseung saved you?” he asks in the afternoon, once they’ve moved downstairs. Jungwon hums in confirmation. 

“If he was right there why didn’t Jake attack him too?” 

A small smile graces Jungwon’s expression. “Because he loves him.” 

At Jay’s (stunned- that wasn’t what he was expecting) silence, Jungwon expands on the topic, the tiny smile slipping away.  

“Heeseung told me that one time they were late getting out to their cabin. They barely made it before Jake turned, and when he did, Heeseung was still there. Heeseing said Jake stared right at him, then took off into the woods.

The night I was out there, Heeseung knew something was wrong as soon as Jake turned because he always takes off right away, but this time he didn’t. Heeseung followed him as quickly as he could because he had this gut feeling that something wasn’t right. Then he saw Jake biting me and just kept yelling his name until Jake stopped. He said it was a leap of faith, hoping that it would be the same as before, and sure enough, Jake went off without touching me again or stepping even an inch toward him. 

The only explanation is how deep of a connection they have with each other. That even when Jake wasn’t himself at all, he could recognize Heeseung and leave him be.”

Jay sits in awe of how Jungwon can recount these things without an ounce of animosity or bitterness in his tone. 

“How could you forgive him?” 

Jungwon doesn’t take even a moment to consider it. His answer glides off the tongue like water. 

“He was kind to me. They both were. They offered advice and aid and helped me through the first transformation the best they could. Jake- he felt so guilty. Apologized a thousand times, but I understood even then that what happened was out of his hands. They could’ve left me alone, but instead they took me in. I couldn’t blame Jake for what he had no control over. I still can’t.” 

Jungwon has always been more empathetic than Jay, less driven by his own personal emotion. He sees all sides, holds no grudges. All at once, Jay is overwhelmed by an inexplicable rush of affection for him. It’s inching on pride, and Jay can’t explain it as it feels ridiculously misplaced in their situation now, but he experiences it all the same. 

Jungwon has always shown up, but today he proves himself stronger than anyone Jay has ever known. 

»

The hours melt away. 

Jay makes dinner. Jungwon hardly eats. 

The sun begins its descent early- too early- still stuck in the cadence of the winter months. Jay stokes the fire in the living room as Jungwon sits on the couch behind him, staring at the flames unseeingly. It's an achingly similar mirror to last night’s scene and Jay wants nothing more than to rip anything that could ever hurt him away, snuff it out and destroy it so that nothing can touch him. 

The clock strikes six. 

Seven. 

Eight.

Nine.

Jay sits next to Jungwon in the living room, their thighs pressed together. At some point Jungwon reaches for his hand. Jay makes it a point not to let the younger’s go. 

Jay’s mind turns this way and that, tossing about, circling around all the things Jungwon has told him today. 

He usually turns close to midnight. He always leaves the house far before that so that he’s deep in the woods when he does turn (“I don’t want to be too close. I can’t risk wandering back and finding someone. Hurting them. I can’t risk that.”). He takes a blanket with him to leave at the treeline so when he returns and crosses the wide yard back to the house, he’ll at least be covered. The neighbors' houses are quite a bit away, but if someone were to see him in passing, bare and covered in blood, there would certainly be cause for alarm- attention Jungwon can’t afford. 

Jungwon has everything down pat. He has thought every detail through, and yet, when he rises at a quarter past nine, he’s trembling. His movements are sluggish and sharp, anxious and detached. He’s fought to mask it all day long but raw, unbridled fear is in his eyes now, in his actions, in every breath he takes.

Jay follows him out to the back porch, shuddering against the blast of frigid air. With it comes a slap to the face, which is reality. Or rather, Jay’s lack of understanding it. He’s reeling as he was last night, when all of this came to light. 

Is this happening? Is this really fucking happening? 

But Jungwon is not in denial. He just shakes against the winter air, staring at the treeline in the distance, across the great stretch of the yard. Everything in sight is drenched in the light of the full moon. 

Jay pulls Jungwon into his arms because he doesn’t know what else to do. There may not be anything else. 

“Hyung,” Jungwon breathes into his chest. Jay’s jaw clenches at the unsteadiness of his tone. The younger’s hands find purchase in the lapels of his coat, pushing him away from the embrace just far enough that he can look him in the face. 

“Remember. No matter what I look like, no matter what sounds I make, no matter what I say, you can’t contact anyone.”

Somehow, Jay finds his voice. “I know.” 

Jungwon’s lip shakes. His head jerks to the side, his inhales ripple like distrubed water, but his eyes never unlock from Jay’s. I can’t prepare you for this, they say. You’re not ready. This is going to hurt you and you will have to be on your own to handle it. 

“You can’t,” Jungwon stresses, voice breaking. 

“Wonie, hey.” Jay ducks his head closer, running his hand up and down Jungwon’s spine. “I won’t.”

They don’t exchange any more words after that. There is nothing else to say. 

Jay holds onto him as long as he can, but no amount of fierce wishes can erase what will occur tonight. Nothing he silently pleads to the winter wind can diminish the power of the full moon. 

Jungwon sways away from him, gaze miles removed. 

He walks down the steps, blanket tucked over his arm. Crosses the yard. Breaks through the treeline. 

He’s gone. 

»

Jay loses himself to fear. 

He sits on the porch steps, huddled against the wind, eyes glued to the dark forest edge in the distance. The degrees plunge as the night wears on.

Jay doesn’t know why he expected the atmosphere to be ridden with chaos and noise, but it’s terribly silent for hours on end. Only the whistle of wind accompanies him, its frosty tendrils clinging to the few areas where his skin is bare. 

Time is fickle and unforgiving. It seems to slow when Jungwon is apart from him. And that is always true, but now, when the younger is out there alone in the freezing woods, when it’s a guarantee that he’s going to come back in some state of injury, that separation anxiety increases tenfold. 

A particularly biting gust of wind hits Jay straight in the face, stunned tears springing to his eyes. He buries deeper into the winter coat Jungwon insisted he wear since he refused to wait inside. 

Preparing himself for what is to come- unknown in and of itself- is all he can do. 

“No matter what I look like, no matter what sounds I make, no matter what I say-”

Jay shivers involuntarily, dread coiling in his gut. But Jungwon warned him purposefully, so he needs to be prepared to receive the younger in a condition that will surely haunt his dreams forever. And he’ll never be prepared, but he can try to take after Jungwon in the sense of handling the rest of tonight without letting his emotions take over. 

Finally, the moon begins its descent. 

Jay steels himself for Jungwon’s return. 

»

It is in the numbing silence, after hours of unbearable unease, that Jungwon comes back to him. 

Unannounced, there’s a shift in the treeline. Jay shoots up on the step to get a better look- but it’s him. It’s him.

Jay clears the steps with a single jump and runs. His shoes catch on overgrown weeds and crunch on the film of frost layering the entire yard, but nothing matters except reaching him. 

Jungwon, eyes glued to the ground as he staggers forward, loses his footing to exhaustion and falls to his hands and knees. Jay skids down to his level not even seconds later, a cry of sheer, utter relief building up within him. 

The solace that Jungwon is before him again is short lived. Jay’s blurry vision clears enough for him to take in the sweat matted in Jungwon’s hair, the scratches on his face, then-

The blanket has slipped past his shoulders, revealing an array of reddened scraps and purpling bruises littered across his chest and torso, and a particularly nasty looking cut on his upper left arm. 

“Fuck,” Jay chokes out, eyes glued to it. His brain sizzles uselessly in panic. 

Then the wind blows. Jungwon crumples in on himself, letting out a whimper as he shivers violently against the cold and consciousness slams back into Jay’s body like he ran full speed into a brick wall. It kickstarts his seized pulse, restarts the gears in his head. 

Shut down your fucking emotions and help him. Help him.  

Jay draws the blanket back over the younger’s shoulders as gingerly as he can, trying to avoid the weeping cut on his arm. Jungwon is still heaving for breath, fingers clenching weakly against the dewey grass. 

“Jungwon,” Jay calls, vying for his attention, moving hurriedly to crouch beside him. He guides him up into a sitting position. Jungwon’s head lolls upright but his eyes are still unfocused, lips parted around each and every gasp. 

Jay rasps, “I’m gonna pick you up, okay? Gotta get you inside.” 

Jungwon makes no indication of hearing him, but Jay has no other choice than to get him where it’s warm. He gathers him close, lifts him up in his arms. Jungwon’s temple knocks against Jay’s chest and even then he doesn’t move, eyes open but glazed over. 

The trek back to the house is a blur. Jungwon’s entire body is shaking by the time Jay shoulders the back door open. 

“Hold on, Wonie, hold on-” Jay tells him, voice quivering as he dodges the couch. “Just a second, gonna-” he lowers the boy down in front of the fireplace, propping his back up against the coffee table- “gonna get you warmed up.” 

He whips his head around, locating the pile of blankets his panic-adled brain told him to place on the couch just in case yesterday afternoon. He lunges for them, starts wrapping more around Jungwon’s shoulders, piles them in his lap. He needs to wait to get him into some clothes until he can tend to his scattered injuries. 

With nimble fingers, Jay adds more wood to the fireplace, stoking at the flames until they crackle and roar with renewed vigor. 

“That’ll help,” Jay murmurs, turning back to Jungwon to cup his frigid cheeks. “I’ll be right back, okay? Right back.” 

He hurries into the bathroom and grabs the bag of medical supplies he’d also prepared earlier, snatching a washcloth and wetting it under warm water at the last second. When he returns to Jungwon mere moments later, the younger’s eyes are no longer hazy but drooping in fatigue.

When Jay squats to sit before him he looks up and seems to recognize his presence for the first time. 

“Hyung,” he murmurs, barely a whisper, a tinge of questioning to it like he can’t quite comprehend that Jay is here at all. Jay’s heart cracks in his chest. 

“Yeah, Wonie,” he murmurs right back, curling a hand around the younger’s neck. “I’m here.” His voice is significantly more stable than he feels. Quicker than he’d like to, he pulls away from Jungwon, feeling he can’t afford to waste any time. He rummages through the supplies bag for wipes and disinfectant, swabs and bandages. 

“I’m gonna clean you up, alright? You can close your eyes.” 

Despite Jungwon acknowledging he’s here, Jay can’t tell if he’s conscious enough to have processed what he said. His eyelids flutter shut regardless, as if weighted down. 

Jay shudders through a deep breath and gets to work. He dabs at the small scrapes on Jungwon’s face with delicate care, then draws the blankets away from his shoulders with whispered apologies to tend to the scrapes on his chest. Most of the wounds haven’t bled, but are still puffy and angry red. 

The bruising is what concerns Jay the most- an array of purples and deep blues, spread out along his ribs, wrapped around his torso, dotting his arms. In the sky or on a canvas, the colors would look beautiful, but they don’t belong on the map of Jungwon’s skin. He doesn’t deserve to be hindered by them. He grunts in pain at every shift, exhales sharply when he breathes in too deep. Jay struggles to keep his composure with every passing second. 

Jay wipes away the dirt and grime smeared on Jungwon’s skin in the most tender manner he can manage. Finally, all that’s left is the cut on his arm. Jay tries to be gentle as he cleans it, but Jungwon still stirs and hisses in discomfort. His head knocks back, weariness and agony fighting an apparent war over dictation of his body. 

“Hurts,” he breathes, like he’s drowning, like the pain is clogging his throat and filling his lungs.

“I know, baby,” Jay says in a fractured whisper, forcing himself not to falter in his actions. “Almost done, I swear.” 

Once the wound is successfully patched up, Jay releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Jungwon has stopped shivering now, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, blankets pooled around his waist. The dying firelight dances across his bare skin, casting shadows where it doesn’t quite reach- illuminating the picture of the suffering he underwent tonight. 

Jay fights the ache burning behind his eyes and urges his limbs to move again. He spreads the embers out in the fireplace with the poker so it’ll be safe to leave it be, then wordlessly scoops Jungwon up again, blankets and all, to head upstairs. 

When he makes it into Jungwon’s room, he shuffles over and lowers the boy to sit on the edge of the bed, promising him he’ll be quick. He switches on the space heater Jungwon keeps in here during the winter months, then grabs a set of clothes from the dresser. 

“Wonie,” he says softly, going to stand in front of him. Jungwon looks up, far more responsive now but no less depleted of energy. His face is slack of emotion, eyes begging to sink shut and float away into sleep. “Do you want help getting dressed?” 

Jungwon blinks at him, orange light from the heater barely lighting up the planes of his face. 

“I can do it.”

“Sweetheart,” Jay mutters, raising the younger’s chin. “Do you want help?”

Jungwon slips away from his touch to look at the clothes Jay laid beside him, considering. When he slides off the bed to stand up, Jay is right there to steady him, hands at his elbows. 

“It’s okay,” Jungwon says, voice tired. “Just-”

Jay turns his head away while Jungwon pulls his clothes on, standing still so the younger can lean against him when he needs to. He seems to be doing fine on his own- until he lets out a wheeze of pain, his upper body locking up. Jay looks, frantic, to see that he’d gotten stuck raising his arms to thread them through the sleeves of the sweater. 

Jay helps him situate, encouraging his every movement. When they’re done, Jungwon all but collapses forward against his chest, exhaustion seeping from every bit of his being. Jay thinks he’s literally fallen asleep, but then his arms slowly come up to loop around Jay’s waist. The gesture is simply too much for the fragile state of Jay’s heart. 

“Thank you,” Jungwon mumbles, as if his touch wasn’t already enough. Jay feels his words more than hears them, the other’s mouth pressed to his shirt, and he looks to the ceiling. He swallows, letting himself feel the full influx of his emotions for the first time since Jugnwon came back to him tonight. 

So strong and so brave. He’s okay. He’ll be okay.

Tilting Jungwon’s head back with gentle hands, Jay presses a kiss to his forehead, overwhelmed by the surge of protectiveness that floods his veins. It’s like a drug- makes him think passionately, irrationally. 

You’re safe now. I won’t let anything hurt you. I’ll always be by your side and I’ll always do everything I can to shield you from any hurt you encounter. 

Irrational, because Jay knows he can’t save Jungwon from this- this curse that binds him to the full moon, a way of life that is now his. Jay knows that once tonight passes, another like it will come again next month, and the month after that, and every month- as far as Jay is aware- for the rest of their lives. 

But Jay will be here. And hopefully, that will be enough to make a difference. 

Jungwon’s limbs have gone heavy and his eyes have drifted shut. Jay holds him close as he reaches for the thick bedspread and peels it back, then manuevors them both under the covers.

An hour passes. The sun rises. Fingers of light peek around the edges of the closed curtains, but they do nothing to disturb Jungwon as he sleeps, without a twitch of movement, without a sound. 

Jungwon sleeps, and Jay lies awake, long after his eyes dry of shaken tears. And despite it all- the pain and the heartache of seeing Jungwon hurt like he did tonight- a sort of inexplicable assurance falls over Jay. 

Jungwon is the strongest person he knows- in body and in spirit- and he’s going to be okay. Jay will learn how to help him be okay. 

»

Hours later, Jay stirs from dozing off when Jungwon shifts awake. 

He watches Jungwon sit up, keeping a supporting hand on his back. Jungwon doesn’t make any noise indicating pain, just lets out a heavy exhale once he’s successfully upright. 

The forefront of Jay’s mind flickers with images of purpling bruises and cuts and the gash on the younger’s arm- he sits up too, trying to keep panic from being the first thing Jungwon hears this morning. 

“Okay?” It’s a wildly insufficient thing to ask, especially right now, but it’s all that came to mind. Nothing sums up what he wants to say, nothing amounts to what he feels. 

“Mh,” Jungwon hums, paired with a minuscule nod. He turns his head and looks at Jay then, and god. 

His eyes- alert, present, looking right at him and seeing him- take Jay’s breath away. He realizes, with a start, just how much last night truly took a toll on him. Caring for Jungwon was his duty and he’d do it again a million times over, but the fact that he was practically unresponsive for the majority of the process scared Jay. 

Jay decides the best tactic here is to keep speaking, lest he start crying again, this time in relief. 

“Can I check your arm again?” he asks. In the low light, Jungwon watches him, something unidentifiable lurking at the corners of his gaze. Jay feels laid bare, yet he doesn’t mind it with him. 

“I heal fast, hyung,” Jungwon repeats his words from yesterday. His tone is smooth as silk, as gentle as a lover’s touch. “It’s gonna be fine.” 

“I believe you. But I’m not going to stop thinking about how it was last night until…”

Jungwon nods in the midst of his swelling silence. Jay detangles his body from the sheets and gets out of bed, waiting by Jungwon’s side. The younger boy’s already moving about, seeming to understand Jay wants to see it in better lighting without him having to say a word. 

“You okay to walk?” 

“Yeah,” Jungwon grits, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and standing up. He accepts the help of Jay’s arm as it slings around his waist, leaning into him as they make their way into the bathroom at a slow pace.

Jay opens the door with his free hand, eyes adjusting to the natural light shining in from the window in here compared to the darkness of the bedroom. Jungwon lifts himself up on the counter, sniffs as a quick grimace of discomfort from the action fades away. 

Glancing up at Jay, Jungwon pulls the wide neck of his sweater to the side, down past the bandage. Jay shuffles to stand between his legs and carefully peels back the plaster to reveal- 

He gasps. The cut that was irritated and bleeding last night is in a drastically better state now. It’s still wounded, of course, but it’s only been a few hours and it has already begun to close up; at this rate, Jay thinks the area will be healed over and his skin will look good as new within the next day or two. 

“Holy shit,” Jay whispers in awe, covering the cut again. His hands move to Jungwon’s front, hovering. “Can I-”

Jungwon nods, lifting his sweater up. His torso is well on its way toward clearing up again, the bruising already having decreased in violent coloring and size. Jay keeps his touch featherlight as he ghosts his fingers over Jungwon’s ribs. 

“Holy shit,” he repeats because he’s okay. He really is going to be okay. 

He looks up at Jungwon and promptly loses all train of thought. He didn’t realize how close they’d become. And Jungwon- he has stars in his eyes. He’s looking at Jay like he’s the answer, like Jay is the only thing he could ever need; Jay knows the look because it’s the same one he’s been directing at Jungwon for years. 

“What?” Jay asks, voice low. He can’t help himself, staring back into Jungwon’s honey gaze. Being the sole recipient of it. He can’t help wanting more. He can’t help wondering if- maybe, just maybe- this moment will be the one that changes everything for them. 

Jungwon shakes his head, slowly. Jay doesn’t look down, but he can feel Jungwon’s fingers curling in the bottom of his shirt. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Jungwon murmurs. Jay doesn’t want to cry any more tears, but it may be inevitable if this is how this conversation is going to go. 

“Of course I am,” he answers, as sincerely as he can manage. The next words spill from him like water from a bubbling brook- easily. It is nothing but the truth. “And I will be next time too. Every time from here on out.”

Jungwon’s expression changes then, not in a flash, but slowly. 

“That’s,” he starts. Stops. Starts again, “Hyung. That’s too much. I can’t ask that of you.”

Jay is quick to answer. 

“You didn’t ask, Wonie. It’s a given. I want to. I will be here- because how I saw you last night? The state you were in? You should never have to go through that alone, and I’m sorry that you did so many times before this. I promise you,” he says, careful to keep his voice calm, “that it’s never going to be that way again.”

Jungwon’s eyebrows draw together, his telltale sign of incertitude. He purses his lips for a moment before releasing the pressure.

“You shouldn’t promise that,” he mutters. “This… this is a lifelong thing, hyung. Don’t promise that.” 

“Jungwon,” Jay whispers, stupefied. “Did you really think I’d leave you? After last night?”

Jungwon’s facial expression strains at his words, tightening around the mouth, creasing beneath the eyes. He looks down to the tile, avoiding eye contact, which is so unlike him. 

“I just- I don’t understand,” comes his voice, shaky. So unlike him. “I’m not the same anymore, hyung. I don’t get why you would stay. Why you would want to.”

The magnitude of the words falls on Jay’s shoulders and he has to take a moment to ground himself so he doesn’t fly off the rails and launch into some intricate, unrehearsed speech about how important Jungwon is to him. How precious, how beautiful, how lovely. How nothing- that exists inside this world or outside of it- could ever minimize his value in Jay’s eyes. 

How can you make it make sense for him? How-

The answer falls right into his lap, a whisper of yesterday afternoon’s conversation returning to him. Jay doesn’t have time to think about tact or delivery, eager to stomp out these thoughts in Jungwon’s head and replace them with promises that will grow, proving themselves to be solid and true. 

“Jake was turned before he met Heeseung, right?”

Jungwon raises his head slowly, looks Jay in the eye. He nods. 

“I can only imagine how difficult it must’ve been for Jake to reveal this part of him to Heeseung when the time came, but look how they turned out. Not only did Heeseung stay with him, he helps him. They got a cabin in the woods and Heeseung goes with him every month to be there for him. Because Heeseung loves him, Wonie… And we are just like them.”

Jungwon’s breath catches. His eyelids flutter. Jay knows he’s understood the sheer gravity of what Jay has just conveyed to him, what he’s trying to say. What he will say, in a moment’s time. 

Not giving himself time to overthink or doubt if the moment is right, Jay continues. The moment is right if they make it so. It is theirs.

“We have our history, Wonie, and it’s a long one. That alone would’ve been enough to have me stick by your side.” 

Jungwon’s breath is quickening, but Jay can’t give his full attention to anything except the look in his eyes right now. He knows, he knows- 

“I am loyal to you through and through,” Jay chokes out. “I will help you, however I can for-” he swallows thickly- “for the rest of my goddamn life, if you’ll let me.” 

Jungwon’s lips part as Jay reaches up to cup his cheek. As always, they seem to move as one, like their motions are connected without a single preconceived thought, for just as Jay shifts, so does Jungwon. His fingers wrap around Jay’s wrist, holding his hand in place, as if Jay would ever let him go. 

“And I will stay with you,” Jay promises, “because I love you.” 

Jay will never forget the unbridled joy and bursting relief in Jungwon’s expression when he utters those words in the context he has always meant them to be revealed. Jungwon looks like he could laugh and cry at the same time, which only drives home what Jay adores about him so much: his complexity in vulnerability and strength. 

“I’m in love with you,” Jay restates. Now that he’s said it once he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop. “I have been for a long time.” 

Jungwon’s shaking his head with glossy eyes, cupping Jay’s face in his hands, leaning forward and guiding him down-

Jungwon kisses him like the first early morning of spring, like the blossoming of something new, like something precious and delicate. Jay is affected in the same way he is by Jungwon’s every other capacity, down to his very core. He’s absolutely shaken, pressing forward to line their bodies up with his hands at Jungwon’s hips- 

And Jungwon is crying, soft murmurs of “I love you,” “Thank you,” “You’re so good to me,” spoken against his lips.  

Jay cradles him close in the subtle blue light of the bathroom and whispers all his doubts away, as he vows to do the rest of today, tomorrow, and every day that follows. 

Later, once they’ve started a new fire downstairs and settled in on the living room couch, Jay finds that, in spite of the living hell that was last night, a sense of peace has washed over him. 

He has no clue what the future looks like. He doesn’t know what he’ll say to Riki, how he’ll explain what Jungwon’s been going through without revealing the truth if Jungwon’s not ready to share. He doesn't know how Jungwon wants to go about dealing with his monthly turns in the future, when he moves on to college. He doesn’t know what they’ll do about the reality of Jungwon’s parents not coming back and Jungwon being alone. He doesn’t know if he should pause in his studies and come live here until Jungwon graduates or do something else. He doesn’t know what decisions they will need to make from here on out. 

There are so many unknowns. They should terrify Jay. And yet…

He rests his chin on Jungwon’s shoulder, arms wrapped securely around his waist from behind, and smiles soft and warm when Jungwon presses a kiss to his temple. He surges forward to meld their mouths together, the younger sputtering out a surprised laugh against his lips. 

Suddenly, the room is as bright as summer, and no moon holds any sort of power over them. 

We will survive this, Jay thinks, and he believes it. 

Jungwon is strong, and Jay will be here with him, to help him. To stay. 

We will survive this.