A/N: Warning: This chapter uses a slur. It is used solely for plot purposes, and isn't meant to make anyone feel unsafe or targeted. Thank you.

“How many times am I going to catch you doing this?”

Himchan looked up from the magazine in his hand, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He rolled his eyes and trained his vision back on the page before him as Yongguk headed closer. They were about the same size, so the only thing really intimidating about the other was his quote on quote ‘scary face,’ though Himchan had never had an issue with his best friend’s visage.

“As many times as you feel the need to bother me,” Himchan rebuffed, taking a drag of the in his mouth before exhaling into Yongguk’s face. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but they were both s to each other from time to time. It was just in the nature of their friendship, he supposed.

Yongguk  leaned back against the wall next to him, shivering from the cold temperatures of mid winter. “Did you see Junhong yesterday?”

A sigh, and a another drag of the cigarette. “No, Yongguk, I haven’t. You need to take your obsession with this kid and stuff it.”

“No, Himchan, that’s what I’m trying to get at.” He huffed and turned to him, arms crossing as he waved the smoke out of his face. “He’s been absent the entire week. Do you think… Do you think Daehyun did something to him?”

With one more heaving sigh, Himchan closed the magazine and faced Yongguk. “Why do you care? He’s nothing but prey for that burnout. It’s not like you’ve ever tried to defend him. Just leave it alone, it’s none of your business.”

Yongguk chewed on his lip, looking down to his bright red basketball shoes twisting in the gravel. It seemed as if he was thinking about something, but that was nothing unusual. He was known as a deep thinker. “That doesn’t mean I’ve never wanted to defend him,” was his quiet response.

Himchan let out a dry laugh, hitting Yongguk in the chest with his rolled up magazine. “What, do you like him or something? Are you some kind of ?” He laughed again, and threw a hand over his head. “Who would’ve known? My own best friend! A !”

There was the sound of a foot sliding in the gravel as Yongguk stood up fully. He was furious, it seemed, as his face was flushed and his brows were downturned in anger. “Don’t call me that, Himchan. Don’t ever call anyone that.” He his heels and left, shoulders scrunched up in rage. Himchan rolled his eyes once again and turned back down to his magazine. What the hell was up with him?

———

“You haven’t talked to me in a week,” Daehyun hissed, squeezing Youngjae’s arm. “What did I do this time?”

Youngjae pulled his arm away with a wince and rubbed the spot that Daehyun had gripped so tightly. “It’s not what you did. It’s what you didn’t do.”

Daehyun squinted and stood, looking over the dumpster he and Youngjae were sitting behind. There seemed to be no one around. With a nod, he resumed his sitting position next to his… Boyfriend? No, that wasn’t the right name for it. He’d figure that out later. Instead, he had to figure out what the hell was making Youngjae not only withhold contact with him, but to also deny him .

“What is it that I didn’t do? Did I not touch you right? Because we can try that again any time, really.”

“God is that the only thing that’s ever on your mind?” Youngjae pinched the bridge of his nose as a frustrated look took over his features. “I’m talking about Junhong. I asked you to stop wailing on the poor kid and what do you do the next day? You beat him until he’s bleeding and struggling to breathe. No wonder he hasn’t shown up in a week. You probably broke one of his ribs.” He tapped Daehyun’s own ribs just for effect. They were always like this when they were alone. Youngjae was free to speak his mind and touch where he pleased -- provided it wasn’t in a threatening way else Daehyun would take it as a challenge.

Daehyun was about to pipe up to defend himself when Yongguk oh so kindly walked right past the two of them looking distraught. The two had to scramble into a fighting position as the elder passed. Once Daehyun landed a few punches to Youngjae’s stomach and Yongguk was out of view, the two relaxed.

“Do you really have to hit me that hard?” Youngjae whined, rubbing his gut. “If this is you going easy, I can’t imagine how bad it is for Junhong.”

The other chuckled and threw his head back against the dumpster. “Oh, it’s so wonderful. I love watching that kid squirm when I just so much as look at him. He’s so pitiful, y'know? I bet everything gets handed to him at home. I heard he’s an only child.”

“That doesn’t tell you jack and you know that. You just want any excuse you can get to beat him up, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “You know how to read me like a book, don’t you?”

“That’s it.” Youngjae stood, stretching his cramped limbs. “I’m not giving you anything until you stop beating on that kid.”

As Youngjae turned to leave, Daehyun grabbed him by the collar and forced him to the ground. Youngjae let out a whine as his spine connected with the hard gravel and ice that covered the ground. “You do what I say,” Daehyun growled, leaning in close just to make sure Youngjae got the point. “You’re mine, and you’ll do whatever I say.”

The sound of Youngjae’s terrified swallow was deafening, yet at the same time it was so wonderfully intoxicating. He had this look of raw terror on his face that set Daehyun’s body on fire. If only he could take him right there, right then. But he couldn’t. Someone would definitely see them, and then it would surely be all over. They had dodged several bullets before, but someone seeing them like that was just inexcusable. Especially if it was someone like Himchan; someone that Daehyun couldn’t touch.

Whilst Daehyun was off in his own headspace, pondering as to what he would do next, Youngjae slipped out from under him. He didn’t say anything as he ran off, shoes crunching against the little rocks littering the ground. All Daehyun could think about was how gorgeous Youngjae looked, and when would be the next time he could get him .

“Don’t be such a girl about it!” He called to Youngjae’s retreating figure, devious smirk on his lips.

———

Youngjae booked it as soon as he could. He hated when Daehyun got like that. The poor guy couldn’t control whatever carnal or violent impulses that he had. Almost as if he’d never learned how to. That honestly could easily be the case, but since Daehyun never really disclosed his past years, Youngjae was left in the dark. There were more concerning things than Daehyun’s childhood, anyway, and he knew exactly who could put his fears to rest.

Jongup Moon.

Jongup, or Peter as some had taken to calling him, sat in the library after school on most days. He seemed to be quite studious and very keen on learning as much as he could. What a great kid, honestly. Almost the polar opposite of Daehyun. Timid instead of overbearing, compliant and not rebellious, and most of all, interested whereas Daehyun would be disenchanted. It was almost alarming that the school could hold such a dichotomy of people.

He sat down in front of Jongup at the table closest to the library’s doors. The room was warm -- almost too hot -- and all around them stood towering bookshelves that held a medley of different spines of books, all categorized by the seemingly-complex book sorting system. Jongup seemed to retreat further into himself the moment Youngjae sat down, as he hid more and more behind the book that he was reading as minutes passed. It would make sense as to why he was so scared. Youngjae was always attached to Daehyun at the hip, so it was only natural that he developed his own sort of notorious reputation as well. He was here to find answers, though, and he wanted to make that known. So, he began the only way he knew how.

By clearing his throat.

Jongup practically leaped out of his seat. He was similar to a scared little mouse as his eyes widened and he slowly put down his book. “Um… Yes?”

Oh God. Youngjae had forgotten how thick his accent was. Hopefully he wouldn’t have too difficult of a time understanding him.

“Your friend. Junhong. Where is he?” Short and sweet. That was what he wanted to keep this conversation as. If Daehyun found out, there was no predicting what he’d do.

“Home,” was all that Jongup could manage. His voice trembled even though he only managed to get one word out.

At this point, Youngjae was getting impatient. This was dragging on longer than he wanted it to already. His fingernails tapped against the lacquered wooden table as he asked what he hoped would be his final question, “Why?”

“Um,” the younger pursed his lips, seemingly debating as to whether or not he should tell him. Once he seemed to decide, he gave him an answer. “Broken ribs.”

Youngjae’s eyes widened, and for a second he couldn’t move. As if his entire body had been put on autopilot, he stood and pushed in his chair before leaving. Daehyun had never beaten on him that hard, and Daehyun had said that he really liked him. Did that mean that… Daehyun liked Junhong more? Or was it just some spontaneous affinity? Whatever it was, Youngjae didn’t like it. However, the more he thought about it, the more he disliked it because it threatened his relationship with Daehyun, not because it hurt the kid so badly. He had to stop himself in the middle of the hall and rub his eyes just to get some of those thoughts out of his head.

God, what was he going to do?