Hongbin had fallen asleep soon after the credits for The Lion King began to roll – it had been a long day for him, with board meetings and editorial shoots. When the nightmare comes, Sanghyuk is resting against the sofa with his eyes closed. He hasn’t learns quite how to sleep deeply yet, especially when not in his room. For all that it’s worth, however, he’s relaxed and almost drifting into unconsciousness. If he had been focusing, he would have noticed the moment Hongbin’s breathing patterns had changed from lulling to shallow and panicky. He would have noticed the moment Hongbin’s hands had clenched into fists, ready to defend himself.

But he only notices when one of those fists jerks up suddenly, catching Sanghyuk slightly in the side of his head. It hurts a little where the fist had connected, but Sanghyuk doesn’t stun. He quickly wakes up to see Hongbin sweating like he’s run a marathon, shifting upon the sofa as his shirt sticks uncomfortably to his body.

Sanghyuk bites his lip and nudges him gently. “Hyung? Wake up.”

It doesn’t work. Hongbin continues muttering something under his breath, brow furrowed and teeth grinding.

“Hyung. Wake up,” Sanghyuk repeats, pushing harder on his shoulder.

Then it all goes south. Hongbin thrashes, as if someone is attacking him, punching him in a fight only he can see. Before Sanghyuk can move away, Hongbin’s arm lashes out, gripping Sanghyuk just above the wrist. The pillows drop off the couch, surrounding Sanghyuk and they makehim feel more closed in than he actually is. He tries not to panic, but it only takes him a second before he can’t take it anymore and starts pulling away from Hongbin’s grip. It feels too much like he’s watching a reflection of himself.

Hongbin, as if noticing that this wasn’t a part of the dream, quickly lets go. Sanghyuk lands heavily as Hongbin blinks slowly, trying to chase the sleep away from his eyes. It’s eerily silent for a long time before they both come back to themselves.

Hongbin starts apologizing in a hurry, breathing heavily – almost whimpering, “, I’m so sorry. I don’t know – What happened? I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Sanghyuk nods tentatively, inching forward on his hands and knees. Hongbin, obviously still trying to get everything together, doesn’t move even when Sanghyuk places his hand on his knee. Hongbin's skin feels clammy, hot and cold at the same time, and Sanghyuk grazes his thumb over Hongbin's knee until Hongbin turns to look at him with a shaky expression.

“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

Sanghyuk shakes his head, smiling tentatively at Hongbin even though his heart is still pounding. “Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin nods miserably, reaching out to trace a finger up and down Sanghyuk’s arm, making no distinction between skin and scars. One day, Sanghyuk will find the words to be able to explain how much this small gesture means to him.But for now, he doesn’t push. When he gets bad dreams, he likes for Hongbin to just… be there. To be patient, and to not expect anything from him except to go back to sleep.

“I guess I get nightmares sometimes, too,” Hongbin breathes.  

Sanghyuk, trying to be as merciful as possible, says “I know you do; I heard them once.” Then, bravely – “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was kidnapped, when I was younger,” Hongbin says after a long time, chuckling wistfully. “Because of how much money my family has.”

Despite how strangely offhanded he sounds, Hongbin’s voice shakes. Like this, when his facade of put-togetherness falls like a veil, he looks so needy and so goddamn young. Sometimes Sanghyuk – and many other people – forget how young he is. He has always looked so confident, exuding the charisma of an established, experienced man. But Taekwoon has hinted to Sanghyuk about the etiquette classes Hongbin had to take when he was younger, about all the scrutiny by the media on him and his sisters. About how strict Hongbin's family was and how Hongbin wasn't always so stable.

“I was put on a boat, and the smell –” Hongbin almost gags. “The smell was absolutely terrible. It’s actually.... why I hate seafood.”

The gears in Sanghyuk’s head turn. For months, he’s been trying to figure out why Hongbin refuses to touch anything even remotely sea-smelling. Whenever he’d try to ask, Hongbin would change the subject.  

“It was only… Only two hours? Before the police broke in. Into the boat, I mean. But I was so young, and it was…” Hongbin stutters. “I just… For some reason, that… That smell and constantly being in like, two inches of warm sea water the whole time and soaking wet… It just… keeps, keeps coming back in my dreams.”

Sanghyuk stands up slowly to take a seat on the sofa. But Hongbin doesn’t move over, instead staring at him like he’s ready to let Sanghyuk walk away.

Sanghyuk smiles cheekily. “Can I join you?”

“Oh,” Hongbin says, and he laughs in relief. “Sorry.”

Sanghyuk sits close to Hongbin, thighs touching. Hongbin doesn’t flinch, so Sanghyuk braces himself and rests his head on Hongbin’s shoulder. He’s thought about doing this the entire time they’ve been talking. Slowly, Hongbin’s arm comes up to rub circles on his back.

“You’re okay.” Sanghyuk says, hushed and private. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I know, I know.” Hongbin keens desperately, as if trying to prove that he doesn’t need to be coddled over. “It’s just a stupid dream. Let’s just go back to sleep, okay?”

Sanghyuk almost agrees, but then he remembers that he’s supposed to be taking care of Hongbin – protecting him. And Daewon hyung has also taught him that friends are the best people to love us when we cannot love ourselves. Friends know what we need when we can’t ask for it.

“Let’s sit here for a while more, hyung,” Sanghyuk says. “I’m too lazy to stand up.”

Hongbin nods and if he sees through the lie, he does well not to call him out on it. It takes a while for Hongbin's breaths to become steady again and for the weight of the nightmare to really fall off his shoulders. He thought he didn’t really feel tense when he was talking about the dream, but he can see now that he’s always tense when thinking about his past (whether consciously or subconsciously) – he just doesn’t let himself acknowledge it. But like this, when you can’t really tell who is exactly leaning on who, it feels okay to just be vulnerable. To have these episodes and not be ashamed of it.

“Can you help me turn on the air-conditioner please?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sanghyuk stands, fiddles with the air-conditioning, and waits until it starts up proper. “Is this okay?” 

“Can you turn the temperature down a little bit more?” Hongbin sighs, and only stops Sanghyuk when it’s almost frigid. “Sorry – Being in cold places help a lot when I’m… stuck. Like this.”

Sanghyuk nods, glad that the air-conditioning in this new house is actually working. And because the couch is right in front of the unit (one that works so well), Sanghyuk pulls out a few blankets from his room, handing one to Hongbin and wrapping himself with one before sitting with his back to the couch again. He leans back so the side of his temple presses slightly against Hongbin’s left knee.

“Just now… What movie did we watch?” Sanghyuk asks after a while.

“Damn. The Lion King, dude.” Hongbin replies incredulously, making sure Sanghyuk feels the nudge against the side of his head as he moves his right shoulder in jest. “How could you forget so fast?”

Sanghyuk grins sleepily. “I liked Nala.”

Then after a pause, “I really like Timon and Pumba.”

Just like that, they talk about The Lion King for the next half an hour before they slowly drift off – but not before Sanghyuk convinces Hongbin to at least cover himself with a throw, and not before they say their good nights at almost 3am in the morning.

***

Wonshik gives Jaehwan his phone number pretty early on into his admission.

“Call me anytime,” Wonshik said, scribbling the string of numbers on a piece of scrap paper. “If there’s anything you want to know. Or ask. Or even to just talk.”

“You know people are usually asking me to shut up, right?” Jaehwan had said as he accepted the paper, tucking it into his pocket.

“Well, that’s not what I want for you.” Wonshik had said evenly. “And besides, we’re friends.”

Jaehwan had begrudgingly agreed and although he did keep the paper on which Wonshik’s number was written, he hasn’t ever really given it more than a glance. He doesn’t think he has anything to say. Or anything he wants to hear.

But Wonshik, as usual, proves him wrong. He’s the most interesting person Jaehwan has ever met, and that’s saying a lot, considering he’s once met someone who somehow accurately predicted a car accident right in front of their street (to the minute).

Jaehwan starts calling him on nights where he swears he can almost taste his brain. And Wonshik talks endlessly about the world – everything from the underground music scene of Gangnam to the beaches of the Philippines. They make quite the dynamic duo, if Jaehwan could say so himself. More importantly, though, Wonshik makes Jaehwan want to be part of the world again – like, listening to how someone’s life could possibly so interesting makes him want to start living as soon as possible. But he’s not quite sure if he’s still capable of doing that without falling back into his old ways of alcohol and recklessness.

When he was younger, he had always hated the what do you want to do when you grow up questions. All he wanted to do was hang out with his friends, visit manga stores, and play to his heart’s content. Clearly it didn’t work out so well, because he got into bad company quite quickly towards the end of middle school. He started hanging out with the delinquents on the streets because rebelling was the only thing that could electrify him – started smoking, doing drugs, flunking tests, cutting classes. His mother kicked him out of the house and that’s really when everything went downhill. Even his sister refused to acknowledge him whenever she saw him around school.

And that... That had made him angry. So angry, that he made up his mind to make it in this world by himself. But he was 13 and had spent all his remaining cash in just one month, so he had to resort to dangerous means. It started out innocently – a dishwasher in a Chinese restaurant, then a cleaner in a bar, then a butler in a club, then before he knew it, he was kept constantly drunk by regulars who loved buying him drinks on the job because he was humorous, young, desperate, and easy to feel up when intoxicated.

“Hello?” Wonshik picks up the phone and Jaehwan can hear him move to somewhere quiet.

“Sup.” Jaehwan smiles. “This is gonna be my last week in here.”

“So fast?” Wonshik says sarcastically, because everyone knows it’s Jaehwan’s fourth month in the hospital and that’s the longest inpatient period in the TBI unit in a while. “Feels like just yesterday.”

“Why do you have to be such an ?” Jaehwan scowls, half serious. "I'm going to hang up."

Wonshik laughs that charming, deep laughter of his. “I’m just kidding. Don't hang up.”

“It has been…” Jaehwan pauses as he looks down at the plastic, scratched-up watch on his wrist that was a gift from his mother. “16 days since I last had alcohol, 4 days since my last cigarette, and… 2 hours 14 minutes since I last was violent.”

“2 hours?” Wonshik shouts, clearly outraged. “Who did you hit this time? Please don’t tell me it was the new warden again.”

“Calm down man,” Jaehwan placates. “I went to that room for the crazies and hit a few pillows. I haven’t punched any human beings in… almost 15 days. I think the new guy is still kinda scared of me, though. Despite it being an accident."

“I’m honestly having second thoughts about letting you stay at my apartment.” Wonshik murmmurs.

“Speaking of that, can I really stay at your place when I get out of here?” Jaehwan asks.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Am I your only friend?” Jaehwan asks suspiciously. “Do you not have people you want to invite over? What about ? Do you not have that? Or if you do, where do you do it?”

“Very inappropriate questions, but to answer them – if I ever need the place to myself, I’ll let you know first thing.” Wonshik says contemplatively. “Then you’ll get lost immediately, won’t you?”

Jaehwan sighs, “Fine. Deal. But remember you still owe me a meal if I win at bowling again this Saturday.”