"Sungyeol,"

"Hmm?"

"You'll be okay, right?"

"Of course."

. . .

He lied. Sungyeol doesn't want his last words to Myungsoo to be a lie, but there are three guys driving their boots into his ribs and everything is starting to feel numb. He coughs violently, and he sees red spatter the muddied snow. But he has to hold on because he has to see Myungsoo again, so he curls himself up a little more and prays that they'll leave soon.

. . .

Is he alive right now? He can't quite feel anything and all he can see is darkness. Then his hands start heating up quickly and soon they're burning like somebody set them on fire, and the flames are spreading rapidly across his body until his chest is burning too and it hurts.

He opens his eyes.

It takes a moment for everything to clear up, but then he realizes that he's still lying in an alleyway in the middle of winter, and he probably has multiple fractured ribs. He tries to move his hands even though they're still burning with frostbite, and somehow manages to maneuver himself into a sitting position without causing further damage to his body. His teeth are chattering uncontrollably.

It's light out, meaning he's been there for either a few hours or a whole day, but based on the fact that his fingers are still intact, it's probably the former. He wiggles them around a bit more to get blood flowing into them, pressing his freezing hands against his neck in an attempt to reverse the discolouration.

After a few minutes of effort resulting in next to nothing, he decides that the pain in his ribs isn't going to get better without serious medical attention, so he tries to heave himself up using the wall as support and as soon as his legs are his only contact with the ground he collapses back onto the dirty snow. The fall knocks the air out of him and he wheezes painfully, trying to catch his breath.

A few hours in below freezing temperatures has numbed his legs, he should have known. Sungyeol begins to gently roll his ankles, tightening and releasing the muscles in his legs repeatedly. When he can feel pain in them he tries to stand up again.

This time he manages to get himself up, legs shaking underneath him and his shoulder pressed up against the wall to keep him from falling back down. He takes a few risky steps forward, and that's when he notices the small black paper at his feet. Slowly, he leans down to retrieve it, his injured ribs screaming for him to stop. He straightens up again and holds it in front of him with shaky hands. The message is scrawled in silver Sharpie, messy writing barely decipherable.

Dearest Mr. Lee,

We've left you alive because you still owe us a large sum of money, and we do not plan to leave the matter unresolved. We suggest you find a way to procure the unpaid amount within the next twenty-four hours should you wish to continue enjoying your days on this lovely planet. Please know that should you have any dangerous thoughts such as running away, our men are nearby, ready to confront you .

We will be waiting.

– Kuboe

Sungyeol sighs and rips the paper up, shoving the pieces into his pocket.

Well, .

. . .

After what he guesses is an hour of walking through the city, his muscles seem to be functioning properly. He casts wary glances over his shoulder every once in a while, looking to see if he can spot the people who are supposedly tracking his actions, but he can never quite spot anything out of the ordinary, not even against the stark white snow. The feeling of paranoia is killing him, and he unconsciously walks faster and faster until he's jogging, and soon he's running and every part of his physical being is screeching for him to stop, but he keeps going and soon he finds himself standing on the sidewalk out of breath, staring at a house that he's been in countless times, internally trying to convince himself that if he chooses to knock on the door now, everything will be alright. But he doesn't know if everything will be alright. He doesn't know if he can get the money, and he doesn't want to risk it, and it's tearing him apart because all he wants is to see Myungsoo.

So he knocks on the door. It opens and Myungsoo is ushering him in, slamming it shut again and pressing his warm palms to Sungyeol's freezing face. He kisses Sungyeol tenderly, then helps him take off his shoes and his coat and leads him to lie down beside the fireplace. He fetches painkillers and medical supplies and gets to work patching up all the cuts.

"I should bring you to a hospital."

"You can't."

"I wish I could." he continues working in silence, and once he's done all he can, Myungsoo tosses a change of clothing in the dryer to warm up. Then, he returns to Sungyeol's side, and pushes everything away so he can lie down next to him. He takes one of the other's hands between his own. It's still cool to the touch, and a bit stiff. "Are you warm enough?"

Sungyeol hums, "I can't really feel anything."

That has Myungsoo springing up, fetching as many blankets as he can find and layering them over Sungyeol. Then, he lifts the edge and slides in next to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and holding him as close as he can manage while being gentle. He can feel the rise and fall of Sungyeol's stomach, and, when he concentrates hard enough, his heartbeat pulsing against his wrist. Myungsoo frowns and looks up at Sungyeol's face. His eyes are closed, but his jaw is still tense.

"Sungyeol, your heart's beating really fast."

"It'll slow down soon."

"You've been lying down for half an hour."

"Give it twenty minutes. I'm still freezing."

Myungsoo sighs and goes to grab the change of clothing. He helps Sungyeol out of his dirty clothes. It's a slow process as he tries to avoid touching any scratches or bruises, being extremely mindful of every time the other winces or inhales sharply.

Once Sungyeol is in Myungsoo's clothing, he settles back down underneath the blankets. He's a little out of breath, but much warmer now. He closes his eyes, letting all of the tension drain from his muscles, and tries his best to focus in on the feeling of Myungsoo's fingers lightly tapping on his hip. They must spend at least another half hour like this, grasping on to an artificial calmness, turning blind eyes on the unsure future.

"Hey, take a deep breath."

Sungyeol's eyes flutter open and he looks at Myungsoo. "Why?"

"Just–just try."

And so he tries, inhaling through his mouth, and just as his chest cavity starts to expand to the sides, he's cut short, breathing out suddenly and unevenly and left panting. He looks at Myungsoo, who's sitting up now, alarmed.

"Sungyeol.."

"No, Myungsoo."

"You need to see a doctor."

He shakes his head, ignoring the pain it brings, "No, I just need to give it time. It'll heal up with time."

"Let me get a house call doctor. No ambulance, no hospital visit."

"They'll send me to a hospital anyway. Myungsoo, I can't afford to be stuck in a hospital bed for a week," he reaches out and finds the pocket of his bunched up jeans, pulling out the scraps of black paper and piecing them together for Myungsoo to read. "I only have until tomorrow. Or else they'll start coming after you, too." Sungyeol sighs in frustration, pressing his palms against the sides of his head. "I'm so sorry, Myungsoo, I shouldn't have come here. I led them right to you." He's ready to continue rambling out apologies when Myungsoo speaks.

"How much do you owe them?"

"Ten grand."

"And they'll leave you alone if you pay it back by tomorrow?"

Sungyeol manages a bitter laugh, "There's no way in hell. I'd probably need double that to get away from them for good."

"Do you have anything to give them?"

"Barely a thousand in my account."

Myungsoo gets up and wanders off into his bedroom. A lot of sliding and rustling follows, and then he returns with a small, battered shoebox. He sits down next to Sungyeol and the contents of the box clunk around a little bit. He flips the lid open.

Sungyeol cranes his neck to see, and is confused because there's only coins inside.

"I think is a solid start." Myungsoo reaches in and pulls out a handful.

"You're kidding, right? Pocket change?"

He chuckles and holds out his handful. That's when Sungyeol notices that each coin is enclosed in its own plastic casing. "Not pocket change. Collector coins. I picked up the whole box at a yard sale for five bucks. Some of them will even go for fifty, and there's gotta be at least a hundred of them in here."

Sungyeol gapes. "You're practically a con artist! The seller didn't know?"

"He was kinda old and didn't seem to care. He was selling tons of junk." Myungsoo pours the coins back into the box and shuts it. "Hey, there's also..." he trails off and makes another trip to his bedroom, coming back with another shoebox. "I probably should've thought of this first." He opens the box, revealing countless pieces of gold and silver jewelry.

"Holy . Don't tell me you got all this from the yard sale, too." Sungyeol reaches out and picks up a gold watch. There's little gems embedded around the face, what he can only hope are diamonds, if they're lucky.

"No, even that guy isn't that much of a er. I picked all of these up from thrift stores over the past couple years."

"How do you know if they're legit?"

Myungsoo smiles and takes the watch from Sungyeol's hand. "I did some research and found out that you're supposed to look for little stampings. Here, look." He shows Sungyeol the case back, and, sure enough, there's tiny little engraved logos and a number. "But that's not all there is to it. Real gold and silver aren't supposed to be magnetic, so I'd bring a fridge magnet with me when I went looking."

"But... how did you get so many?"

"Well, it took a lot of work. I go to thrift stores three times a week, and sometimes I'll hit five or six in a day. But a lot of it is lucky, to be honest."

"You're so freakin' smart, you know?"

"If all this stuff is worth what I think, then yeah. But don't speak too soon." Myungsoo checked the time. "I'm gonna haul it all off to some gold buyers." he looked directly into Sungyeol's eyes, gaze intense with determination. "We're gonna make sure those guys leave you alone for good."

"Let me come with you,"

"No. I don't want to leave you alone here, but you need to rest. I should be back in a couple hours."  Myungsoo kneels down and kisses Sungyeol. "Stay put, and call me if you need anything, okay?"

Sungyeol looks up at him, concerned. "Okay. Be safe out there."

Myungsoo smiles, picking up the boxes and grabbing his car keys. "I'll be back soon."

. . .

He's pretty sure the guy behind the counter thinks he robbed a bank, but in this case, that's a good sign. Myungsoo waits patiently as the man continues to appraise pieces of jewelry, raising his eyebrows at the growing sum of the collection. So far, after about fifteen watches, he's sitting at a couple thousand. He pulls out his phone and opens up a little memo he's been keeping since he started collecting valuables. It contains the closest photos he could find online of every piece he's picked up to date and price ranges associated with each of them. So far, things seem to be adding up properly, and he's just relieved that, so far, it's all been the real deal – real gold and silver, true to their stamps.

The fact that he's willing to use all this money to pay off Sungyeol's debt might sound too good to be true to some people, but he hasn't had a moment of doubt since the idea first came to him. They've been together so long, supporting and relying on each other, that he has no second thoughts. He'd give up practically anything to keep Sungyeol safe.

"So, if I may ask, how did you come upon all this?" The man asks as he types into the lookup system on his computer.

Myungsoo smiles, "Through a lot of digging."

He continues to watch as the man works through the entire box of jewelry then moves onto the coins. After the jewelry alone, he's at nineteen thousand, and things are looking good, even considering the fact that the guy will probably only pay him around seventy-five percent of the actual total. When it's all said and done, he's at a grand total of twenty-five thousand.

"Well, sir, would you like to pawn or sell today?"

"Sell, please."

The man taps a few buttons on a calculator, then clears the value before Myungsoo can see. "I'll offer you eighteen thousand for the whole lot."

Myungsoo smirks and grabs the calculator off the counter. He can play dirty, too. "Nice try. That's only seventy-two percent of what it's worth. And, because this place has a pretty good reputation, you'll probably even be able to mark up the value of everything when you're selling it. And on top of that, gold's selling really hot right now. The least I'm taking is twenty thousand."

"I can do eighteen thousand five hundred."

"Nineteen thousand five hundred."

"Eighteen thousand seven hundred fifty."

"Nineteen thousand even." Myungsoo holds out his hand.

The man gives him a cold, hard stare, then reaches out and shakes his hand. "Deal."

. . .

Sungyeol is sleeping when Myungsoo gets back, but he stirs and sits up as soon as the door opens. He's always been a light sleeper. "How did it go?"

Myungsoo doesn't say a word, sitting down beside Sungyeol and pulling him into his chest. He releases him, grinning. "You tell me." He reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a thick stack of cash.

Sungyeol's jaw drops. "How much is that?!"

"Enough for me to empty an ATM and go to the bank teller for the rest of it. Nineteen grand."

He grabs Myungsoo's face and kisses him hard. "Myungsoo, thank you. Thank you so much." He rests their foreheads together.

"I'm just trying to keep you alive," he's only half joking. "Now go give them the money. I want you to get this over with as soon as possible."

Sungyeol nods, and Myungsoo helps him to his feet.

"You know where to go?"

"Yeah. They're always in the same old dump."

"I'll drive you there."

He wants to protest, but he knows that there's no way he can get there alone, especially with the way he's leaning against Myungsoo for support. Myungsoo helps him pull on his coat and boots, and they head out of the house. They drop by a bank first, and Sungyeol withdraws every last penny from his account, adding it to Myungsoo's pile.

The building is across town, in an area where cop cars roll by the same place hourly, and mothers don't let their children run without supervision. Sungyeol instructs Myungsoo to park a couple blocks away. Before he steps out of the car, Myungsoo stops him.

"Just wait," he reaches over and unlocks the glove compartment. There's a few little booklets and a little first aid kit inside, but he digs past those and scoops up something from the bottom. Myungsoo presses the small pocket knife into Sungyeol's hand. "You're gonna be okay this time?"

The weapon probably won't do him any good if he actually does get into a fight, but he appreciates the thought, and slips it into his pocket. "Yeah; I'm gonna be okay. Thanks to you."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He leans over and presses his lips into Myungsoo's briefly. "Give me half an hour."

. . .

Sungyeol ignores the pain as he walks, constantly throwing wary glances over his shoulder. He turns sharply into the alleyway and looks left and right before slipping through the door. He's welcomed by faces he never wants to see again. There's a large group of men huddled around a table playing poker or something of the like, and they all snap their heads at his entrance. He can recognize the men who beat him up in the alleyway just hours ago.

One man stands up from the table with a grin that sends shivers down Sungyeol's spine. "So you decided to show up to the party. Pretty ballsy, I must say."

"I have the money."

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that so? You're aware you owe ten thousand, right?" The man crosses the room in slow, relaxed steps, until he's standing directly in front of Sungyeol.

"Yes. I've brought some interest, too. Consider it a late fee." Sungyeol reaches into his jacket and pulls out the cash, offering it to the man with both hands.

"Always so polite, Sungyeol. And so smart, too." He has that wicked grin on his face again as he gingerly takes the money. He walks back to the table and sweeps aside chips and cards carelessly. He begins counting the cash where everybody can see, looking both surprised and pleased as he passes the ten thousand mark. He finishes and gathers it all back up neatly. "You've added an impressive amount of interest onto what you owed."

"Well, I wouldn't expect that you'd accept any less as a parting gift."

The man starts laughing. It fills the room. "So, so smart. I'm truly sad to see you go. Just know that you're welcome back any time."

"Thank you, sir." he tips his head.

"Oh, and sorry about this morning. I heard you took a pretty rough beating. Glad to see you're still up and about." The man is already sitting back down at the table, sorting his chips back into piles.

"Don't worry about it."

"See you around, Sungyeol." He catches his eyes and flashes one last sharp grin at him.

"Goodbye."

. . .

He climbs back into the car and locks the door as soon as he shuts it. His heart is still pounding from their interaction. The relief hasn't fully set in – it seems too good to be true.

Myungsoo reaches over and catches his hand, "Are you okay?" He can tell that Sungyeol's still shaken up.

He beams at Myungsoo, smile brighter than it's been for months. "I'm free."