The next two weeks went by in a whirlwind of events. He had documents to sign, people to rapport, contracts to clinch and champagne glasses to offer toasts with. Before he’d even realized, he had been out of the country twice and back again. Seoul was now enveloped in a heavy winter, it’s streets crusted with snow.

Seunghyun dropped his luggage on the floor beside his designer couch, flopping quite unceremoniously onto down as he loosened his tie, with it an actual weight seemed to lift off the young man as his shoulders drooped and his body relaxed. Lanky fingers s lazily across the coffee table, searching for the electronic heater’s remote. How did it manage to get so cold in Seoul? He brought the remote close, cupping his hands and breathing into them to keep them warm. He noticed something on his finger glisten as he adjusted the temperature to a comfortable one. It was the eagle ring he had accepted as a gift from a street vendor. He thought of the boy as he lifted it to his face, bringing to mind those searching gazes, unguarded smiles and that beautiful tone of speech. Jiyong, he wondered how he was, if he was somewhere warm and safe in this weather.

Thinking so, Seunghyun suddenly got up and raced to his bedroom to change into more comfortable attire. His feet knotted as he slid them into jeans, causing him to almost trip while he bolted over to this closet, grabbing a quilted down jacket and then another, just in case. He hadn’t even spent fifteen minutes in his own apartment before he was out the door again, the jet lag he had been complaining about since he arrived at the airport long forgotten.

Walking to the bridge was a chore however, not only because of the weather. He wondered if the boy remembered him, Seunghyun didn’t think he was a particularly forgettable face and then of course there was the way Jiyong had looked at him. But then, what if he was really just one of the many passer-bys in Jiyong’s life?

Overthinking, the tall man cursed under his breath, wrapping his jacket tighter, picking up speed. He would be arriving at the bridge anytime now. Just a little further, just round the corner… And then Seunghyun stopped as the bridge came into sight. There he was, the familiar slight of a figure, cloaked in the same fabric. As he closed in he noticed a flash of bright color underneath the cloth, his blue and red scarf. Now, there was most certainly no way Jiyong had forgotten about him. He half-ran over, his confidence now returning.

“Hey!” he said, a grin on his face.

 The boy jolted, snapping out of a daydream and pushing the fabric off his head. “Yes, how can I help…” snow littered his hair and cheeks as he looked up face Seunghyun. His words died on his lips, features fading from shock to gentleness. “Hi…”

Seunghyun crouched down, a silly grin still plastered on his face. “I’d thought you would have forgotten about me.”

The boy let out a soft chuckle, shoulders shaking more than he would like; both from the cold and amusement. “Did you think you were that forgettable?”

“Didn’t think so,” Seunghyun smirked, challenging the boy’s question with a practiced look that had melted the hearts of many women.

“I figured…” he replied, smiling briefly before a frown creased his forehead before a flash of pain took over his face. Jiyong let out a soundless gasp and shut his eyes, willing the pain to pass.

“Hey, are you alright?” He reached over, pushing hair out of the boy’s face. Jiyong had significantly paled, lips trembling. “The ?” Seunghyun cursed, parting the fabric the boy was cloaked under, only to find him wearing nothing more than a thin wool pullover and jeans. He practically dumped the extra jacket he had brought along on the boy, who had made no move to push it away. He had taken it along thinking the other boy wouldn’t be wearing enough, but he did not expect Jiyong to be so severely underdressed. The jacket obviously didn’t provide enough warmth but it would have to suffice for now. Muttering a string of curses, he moved closer to the boy, picking up the goods and packing them into the small suitcase he found beside the boy.

“Seunghyun? What are you doing? I haven’t…”

“Shut it Jiyong, I don’t care if you haven’t sold enough today. We need to get you out of the cold.” He said keeping his gaze firm just to make sure the boy got his point.

“But…”

“No butts.” He snapped. Pulling the suitcase with one hand and helping the boy up with the other.

Jiyong faltered, swaying until Seunghyun caught him. The boy looked like he was about to pass out. Instinctively, the older man pressed a hand against a scalding forehead. “What the hell are you thinking?” He cursed again, shocked by the heat. He was about to go on a lecture but did not want to risk Jiyong passing out here, “Do you think you can hold out for a bit?”

Jiyong nodded, his vision was hazy and he felt unstable on his feet. “Think so…”

“Good,” Seunghyun swung an arm over small shoulders and pulled the boy closer as he led them.

“Wh-ere are we going?” Seunghyun could hear the chattering in is teeth as he spoke with effort.

“I wanted to take you home, but I figured you might not even have a heater in your house, so we’re going to my place.”

“You don’t… have to…” He faltered again, “It’s nothing… comes and goes…”

“Jiyong, I will kick your later for being sick for awhile now and coming out in this cold. Not to mention how dressed for summer you are.” Seunghyun picked up speed, he could feel the boy’s strength sapping with each step. He needed to get him somewhere warm and fast. “But for now just try to save your energy so I don’t have to carry both you and your suitcase home?” Jiyong looked up at him, offering a pained smile while holding down another shiver, and Seunghyun softened immediately, “Okay?” he asked, keeping a gentle tone. The boy said nothing but only nodded, letting the taller man pull him closer. Seunghyun took that as a sign and resumed pace home.

The temperature in the apartment was now blissfully warm, a gust of heat rushing to greet them as Seunghyun pushed the door open. The moment he had ushered Jiyong in, the boy fell to his knees, giving into the fever as he slumped against the wall. Seunghyun hurriedly shut the door, removing both his and the boy’s shoes and socks before helping Jiyong into the guest bed.The boy shuddered; his breathing uneven, pain clouding his face as Seunghyun draped a thick cashmere shawl over him and let him lie down; pulling thick covers until it came up to his chin. Wordlessly he left for the kitchen, bringing into the room a basin of hot water and then a basin of ice cubes together with a wash towel.

“Jiyong,” he called, gently shaking the boy awake. “Can you sit up?” The boy managed a nod before lifting himself with difficulty. Seunghyun adjusted the pillows to let him rest against them. “Give me your hands”, he said, taking chilly hands into his own and wrapping the hot towel over them, allowing the heat to warm the boy up. “Feet,” the boy squirmed into a more upright position, bringing his knees close to his chest. Seunghyun paused, the evident bumps of Jiyong’s knees underneath his jeans made him realize how thin the boy was. Something he couldn’t really tell when Jiyong was buried underneath the cloth he used while he sold his goods. He let out a bated sigh, squeezing water out of the towel before placing them on Jiyong’s feet. When he was done, he helped the boy lie down again. “Better?” he asked.

Jiyong’s eyes had fluttered close, lids too heavy to lift. He mumbled what Seunghyun took as an agreement before his face went slack sleep taking over fast enough. When Seunghyun took his temperature, he wasn’t surprised that the boy had so quickly fallen into sleep. Jiyong had been burning at a dangerous 38.7 degrees, combined with the unkindly weather; he could only imagine the toll it had taken on his body.

Sighing again, Seunghyun left the boy to his rest, entering the room only occasionally to place a cool towel over the boy’s forehead and to check on the fever. He busied himself between his kitchen and laptop, having forgotten almost completely how to cook; since he didn’t really need to, with the housekeeper that would come over occasionally to cook and to clean.

He scoured through recipes for a suitable meal to make before he finally decided on a clear soup and rice dish that was firstly, doable by his standards and nutritional enough for a sick person. When he was done he placed it on a tray and brought it into the room. Sitting down beside the bed, Seunghyun reached for a dry towel, wiping down fever-induced perspiration that had broken out over Jiyong’s face and neck. It was good that the boy was starting to sweat it out. The older man tried to be as gentle as possible, while watching the boy fidget in his sleep, still in much discomfort.

Pale lips moved in exhale and inhale. Sometimes a whisper would escape, fleeting; disconnected words. Seunghyun listened intently, drawn to them like he might be able to glimpse into the boy’s dreams. “D-don’t…” There, he caught it. A word. “Don’t take him…” Jiyong’s features twisted into a deep frown, his breathing picking up. “He will… We’ll be able to… Please… Please…”

Seunghyun’s chest tightened as the last words died on Jiyong’s lips. He felt it like it was his own, the weight and importance of whatever the boy was begging for. The hopelessness of having it snatched away from him. The words uttered were haunting, filled with so much pain and so much desperation.

Who was he dreaming about? Family? Friend? A man, definitely a man… A lover? Was he still with Jiyong? Did he leave? Did he want to leave?

Seunghyun could not understand why anyone would want to leave Jiyong. He also could not understand how he could be this infatuated with a person he just met. Though technically they had passed each other on countless occasions, perhaps even meeting each other’s eyes. But the day they made conversation was different. It made him see him, not the street vendor, not a figure hunched in the cold, not a passerby. He saw Jiyong.

Seunghyun suppressed a silent gasp, his hand cupping his mouth as realization hit him. It wasn't infatuation; it was affection. He could hear the increase of his own heartbeat, matching the dull ringing in his ears.

“Sor-ry…” Seunghyun froze, eyes darting towards the bed, thinking that the boy woke. But Jiyong was still asleep, too lost inside his dream.

“I’m s-sorry…” And the tears spilled out of closed eyes as thin hands fisted to grip the blanket, turning bony knuckles white. “P-please… Let me…” Jiyong began to wheeze, his body turning rigid as he thrashed against the sheets.

“Jiyong!” Seunghyun held him down by the shoulder, the other hand cupping the boy’s face. He was concerned at how the dream was torturing him and he had to wake him up from it. “Ji…”

Jiyong’s hand moved to clutch the sheets at his chest, as if in pain. Whether it was to wake or with the demons in his sleep, he was clearly fighting against something, a memory; sweat collecting at his brow, tears falling freely. “H-hyun…”

Seunghyun blinked, his grip on Jiyong slacking for a while. It was nothing more than a choked whisper, but still he heard it.

Hyun.

His name.

Seunghyun quickly brushed it off, focusing on waking the sleeping boy, not wanting the stress that the dream was causing Jiyong to worsen his condition. Seunghyun shook him with urgency, the volume of his voice raising a notch as he called his name. “Jiyong, wake up!” He snatched a clammy hand into his own, holding it tight, wanting the boy to register with his voice and touch. “Jiyong!” Brown eyes snapped open, wide and afraid. And for a minute, all that hung in the air was the sound of their ragged breathing and then silence. Seunghyun let out a sigh, relief washing over him. "Are you okay? You were having a bad dream."

Jiyong, still shaking, brought red-rimmed eyes to meet Seunghyun's and the taller man held his breath. His eyes again held that unreadable, pained expression. He shifted in his seat, and Jiyong looked away. Uncertain about what to do next, Seunghyun cleared his throat, his eyes focusing on the floor. He supposed he could ask about his dream, but given the boy’s current condition, that would be treading on thin ice. Then he could ask if he wanted to eat, but it didn't seem like the correct moment either. His thoughts were broken by a sob and Seunghyun turned his attention to Jiyong who was now staring at his hand, fresh tears falling from his eyes.

"Ah ," he muttered, he hadn't noticed he was still holding onto Jiyong's hand, and very tightly. "Sorry," he said, pulling away. "I didn't mean to. You looked like you were in pain. I thought some form of contact might break the dream and help you wake up."

Jiyong kept nodding as he tried to still the trembling and stop crying. He lifted his now free hand, using the back of his palm to wipe his tears, swallowing hard as he waited for his breathing to even out. When he had calmed down a little, he made a move to sit up but not without Seunghyun's help. The warm grip of Seunghyun's hand singed like a burn, and Jiyong almost stopped breathing until he let go, leaning back into the chair, legs crossed with an easy elegance. Jiyong chewed on his lower lip, eyes downcast, not meeting Seunghyun's dark orbs until the other man spoke, "Water?" He asked, holding a glass with a straw, tone gentle. Seunghyun's voice has always been gentle... Jiyong peered at him through his bangs, still chewing on his lip. 

Looking at the lack of response, Seunghyun moved closer, lanky fingers sliding through wispy hair, pushing it back and tucking it behind the younger boy's ear. Jiyong gasped, but he didn't move away, he couldn't. Seunghyun held the glass in position in front of him and was now adjusting the straw, lifting an eyebrow to urge the younger to drink. Jiyong eyed him for a while before lowering his head, pale lips parting around the straw as he sipped, slowly at first and then taking in more water down his parched throat. 

"T-thank you." Jiyong spoke and Seunghyun hastily put the glass away, turning to look at him. The boy's fingers curled, fiddling with the edges of the blanket. "Thank you, Seunghyun." He repeated, exhaling as he did so. The words came heavy, like it took too much effort to speak. 

"You always do that." Seunghyun remarked and Jiyong snapped up, his body bolting straight, a mixture of sadness and shock on his face. Seunghyun gave a nervous chuckle worried he might have offended the boy. "No, I mean you always do that when you're nervous… Play with the edges of something, bite your lip..."

Jiyong blushed, quickly ducking behind his bangs again. "Old habits die hard," he said, the on-comings of a smile at the edges of his lips. 

"Oh yes, hang on." Seunghyun stood up, walking to grab the electronic thermometer off the table. Not even asking before he pushed it into the boy's ear, muttering an apology when Jiyong winced. He nodded to himself, glad that the fever wasn't as high as before, throwing the disposable film into a bin. "You up to eating something?"

"What?" Jiyong asked, incredulous, looking too lost and Seunghyun couldn't help but laugh. 

"Food," he said, gesturing to the side table where an intricate tray was left sitting, silver covers sheltering the meal he prepared. 

"Oh..." Jiyong put his hands up to reject him but Seunghyun would have none of it. He hushed the boy by excusing himself to reheat the food. The boy sighed when he returned, "You really don't have to do this..." 

"You look like you can be broken in half by the wind itself" Seunghyun hummed in a matter-of-fact manner. "And sick people should eat well." 

"I'm not... that fragile, you know." Jiyong said in a small voice as Seunghyun wheeled a bed-table close. 

Most people would ask why he had a bed-table, but seeing the boy's lack of response, he could guess he wasn't even surprised. "Are you not going to ask me why I have something like this?" 

Jiyong's lips parted in surprise as Seunghyun uncovered the dishes, filling the room with the aroma of steaming hot rice and soup. "Why do you have this?"

Seunghyun chuckled, the boy was just entertaining him, a deadpan look in his eyes. "You're strange..."

"Because you like to eat in bed sometimes and you don't like the crumbs." Jiyong had said it like it was a matter-of-fact. 

"What? How did you know?" Seunghyun laughed. The fact that Jiyong could guess his habits both surprised and thrilled him. "You're quite something, Jiyong!" He looked up expecting to see the same amusement in the boy's eyes, but was met with a solemn gaze. The boy was looking at him, but his focus was far away, haunting. "Ji?"

Jiyong blinked, snapping out of a reverie that only he could understand. And Seunghyun could tell, only now was his focus back. "Ji... You just called me Ji..."

"You don't like it?" Not everyone was comfortable with nicknames. 

"Oh no… I...," He smiled and Seunghyun caught it again, that tinge of sadness. "I like it... You know, it was just a lucky guess... Earlier on." Even as his smile widened, Jiyong still appeared to be holding something back. "I... I don't know if I can eat it all..." He pursed his lips together, shaking his hair over his face again. 

"Eat whatever you can then, don't force yourself. Anytime you feel nauseated just stop. Have more soup though." Seunghyun pushed the tray over, passing him a spoon and chopsticks. 

Jiyong smiled again, bright and sweet this time, before politely announcing he was going to begin eating. Seunghyun watched as the boy spooned some soup and tasted it, before helping himself to some rice. Then he repeated the action, soup and rice, soup and rice slowly. He would pause after every mouth, his eyes shut, and features peacefully slack. It was as if he was savoring the very moment itself rather than just the food. 

"Is it that good?" 

Jiyong smiled, nodding as he put down the spoon. "But I think I’m done." He had finished a good half, and Seunghyun was more than pleased with the outcome. He nodded, taking the tray away into the kitchen. 

When he returned Jiyong was out of bed and looking for his socks. "Where do you think you're going?" He started, and Jiyong spun around to face him.

"I'm feeling better, so I think I should... Should probably go." He gave a curt bow, "I've troubled you" 

Seunghyun let out a snort and rolled his eyes. "No way, in this weather?" He gestured to the window, to the snow cluttered streets below. "What if your fever spikes again?"

"I... I'll be fine," he chewed on his lip again. 

"But Ji..." 

Jiyong shook his head, "I can't hold you up anymore. I'll be okay, I promise."

Seunghyun relented, "but you're not selling today." He kept his jaw firm. 

Jiyong let out a small laugh, "Yes, okay. I won't then." He picked up his suitcase and turned to leave, Seunghyun trailing him to the door. 

"Here, take this." He said, handing him the down jacket. "Take it," he pushed it into the boy's hands, their fingers meeting briefly, sending a spark through them both. Seunghyun paused, looking straight into Jiyong's eyes, "I'll see you soon Ji?"

Now by the doorway, Jiyong felt like he was coming undone by the contact, by the way dimples appear on sculpted cheeks as he spoke and most importantly by the look in those deep-set eyes.  

He took a deep breath, a wistful smile ghosting his lips as he fought an urge to cry. "Y-yes..." He hoped Seunghyun wouldn't be able to tell. "You know where to find me..." He gave a little wave and turned, not even waiting for the older man to say goodbye. He picked up speed, hugging the jacket close to his body.

The moment he was sure he was out of Seunghyun's sight, tears began to fall freely, the sense of loss overpowering him. Jiyong slumped to the floor of the lift, clutching at his chest, his sobbing uncontrollable. "Hyun..."