Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Sung Hyunjae was staying in Han Yoojin’s room the night before the auction. He did it to annoy the feisty young man, but surprisingly, he didn’t get yelled at or kicked out of the room. Han Yoojin's mouth thinned into a disgusted line, his eyebrows knitting together in an indignant frown (which Sung Hyunjae delighted in) before letting out a defeated scoff and dropping himself onto the bed. Sung Hyunjae made an amused smirk as he watched Han Yoojin let out a blissful sigh at the bouncy mattress, then buried his face in the pillow.
“You can sleep here, on the couch, or on the floor for all I care. Just make your presence become one with the air or something,” he said dismissively. It was just his way of saying, ‘Get out of my sight.’
Sung Hyunjae was pleasantly surprised, but he expected no less from Han Yoojin. So, with a smirk, he lifted the bed cover and made himself comfortable in the empty space beside him. The younger man blinked and glared at him, his eyes screaming, ‘What the hell are you doing?!’
Sung Hyunjae flashed his most harmless smile. “Don’t worry, I don’t make any noise when I sleep.”
“It’s useless whether you’re noisy or not if I keep feeling conscious that you’re here,” Han Yoojin gestured with his hands dramatically, “within arm’s distance of me. I don’t want to wake up feeling constipated.”
Sung Hyunjae’s smile widened. Han Yoojin had an ominous feeling. “Oh my. I’m not aware that my presence is that irresistible to you. My apologies, I didn't account for you still being unfamiliar with my charm. I suggest that we do this more often, so–” A soft pillow slammed into his face with a loud smack, and Sung Hyunjae laughed.
“Shut up, you disgusting ahjussi!”
He couldn't see Han Yoojin’s full expression because he turned away so quickly after launching the pillow at him, but he was sure that the younger man was fuming. The shade of red on the tips of his ears and on his neck was unexpectedly appealing. Sung Hyunjae stared seconds longer than necessary before chuckling and plopping down on his pillow.
He certainly didn’t expect to fall asleep so soon, especially since he didn’t plan to sleep and intended to spend the night watching Han Yoojin. He might have been content doing that all night if doing so could unravel all the secrets the small and weak F-rank body seemed to safeguard from the world. Sung Hyunjae watched Han Yoojin’s back, his body subtly rising and falling with his even breaths. A soft smell of the hotel’s soap and shampoo lingered between them; he unconsciously inhaled the scent and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of Han Yoojin’s heartbeat. Like that, it was as if Han Yoojin lulled him to sleep. But it seemed the man was not done surprising him that night because Han Yoojin confronted him again in his dream.
It felt both lucid and unreal that he immediately realized it was a dream. He stood emotionlessly in front of Han Yoojin, who was restrained mid-air with chains piercing his chest. Sung Hyunjae tilted his head at the curious sight.
It wasn't that he hadn’t thought of ways to take Han Yoojin for himself; after all, the man was a heaven-sent item, custom-made especially for him. Isolating him and making him immobile was always an option, but the F-rank was weak, so Sung Hyunjae knew best to treat such a potential yet fragile individual with care. He certainly wouldn't attack the man without mercy, as far as tearing his chest with the seeker’s chain. Unless he had somehow become enough of a hindrance in the future that Sung Hyunjae resorted to eliminating him rather than taking disciplinary action. Which should be unlikely. Then again, Han Yoojin is anything but predictable.
Han Yoojin still held his head and looked at him in the eyes. Those dark pupils darted slightly, studying him, as if his own existence was a question and Sung Hyunjae’s was his answer. But those eyes lacked something that usually never failed to captivate him. The body was certainly alive, with fresh blood on his chest, mouth, and down to his neck. But there was no painful drag of breath, not a single muscle trembled or tensed, and there was no blazing determination and the usual defiance in those eyes.
"This is not my item," he concluded with ease. Sung Hyunjae knew that this was a dream, but he couldn't help feeling affronted at the fact that even in the dream, he still had to deal with something as dull as this. Deciding that he had had enough, he curled the chain around the fake’s neck. With the sound of something cracking and snapping, Hyunjae woke up in the comfortable bed that he shared with the real Han Yoojin.
Sung Hyunjae blinked and immediately caught the sound of heavy breathing along with choked-up noises that could easily be mistaken for a sob.
“Han Yoojin,” he called.
But the sleeping body didn’t answer. He reached for him and shook his shoulder gently. Han Yoojin gasped but didn’t wake up, still trapped in his own struggle in a place that Sung Hyunjae couldn't possibly know.
“Yoojin-gun,” he tried again, this time bringing the younger man’s face into his hand. The F-rank clutched onto his hand so hard his nails might make a dent in anyone’s skin but a high-rank hunter’s.
Sung Hyunjae examined Han Yoojin’s expression: eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed tightly, teeth grinding against each other so harshly that Sung Hyunjae had to pry his mouth apart with his finger lest the sleeping man hurt himself.
His item looked pained. Sung Hyunjae did not feel ashamed that he found this expression far more gratifying than the one he saw in his dream moments ago. But along with his satisfaction surged a curiosity that demanded to be sated and a frustration that couldn’t be soothed.
Several attempts to rouse him nicely were unsuccessful. Sung Hyunjae couldn’t just slap him awake, despite being tempted to do so. The Guild Leader of Sesung let out a defeated sigh as he dragged Han Yoojin closer, then began to pat his back and stroke his head.
It took some time and many consolation words said in the softest tone possible until Han Yoojin finally calmed down. Sung Hyunjae kept patting his back until Han Yoojin settled into a deep sleep. His item looked nice like this, sleeping soundly, docile and vulnerable, none the wiser of the dangers that always seemed eager to charge at him (or the opposite; Sung Hyunjae was convinced that it was mostly the opposite).
Sung Hyunjae wrapped his arm around Han Yoojin’s shoulder and waist. He shamelessly buried his face on top of Han Yoojin’s head. His scent was oddly calming. Was it his caregiver title that made his presence so comforting? Even his body warmth and his heartbeat…
Sung Hyunjae snapped awake with a slap on his face. His instantly alert gaze softened when it landed on Han Yoojin, still in his embrace. He looked extremely annoyed and embarrassed; Sung Hyunjae feasted on the sight.
“Good morning. Did you have a nice dream?”
Han Yoojin snapped, “You! What do you think you’re doing?! You perverted, deranged, evil ahjussi!”
“I see that my princess is as lively as ever early in the morning.”
Han Yoojin flailed his arms and struggled to get free. “Let me go!”
Sung Hyunjae just hummed and hugged Han Yoojin tighter, which the younger man squeaked in response.
Ah, what a nice way to start a day.