Yongguk woke up startled. An unfamiliar room surrounded him and he was staring at an alarm clock he'd never seen before. Belatedly he wondered why it was flashing erratically, but he was too scared out of his mind to ponder it for long. He was sore all over and nearly too stiff to move, but he was alive, and he seemed safe. He listened intently for a few seconds, comforted by the supposed emptiness of the room. He sat up slowly and haltingly - every few seconds he felt a muscle throb or twinge - and he exhaled slowly as he propped himself against the headboard. Yongguk looked around again, less disoriented than before, and took note of his surroundings.

The male was in what looked to be a large bedroom, walls blank but with a neatly organized bookshelf and a tidy desk/dresser against the opposite wall. He could hear the clashing of pots and pans from the open door of the room and he relaxed against the comfortable wood behind him. He reached an (ouch ouch sore sore) arm up to feel his messy brown hair, now deflated from a night of restless sleep, and thought back as hard as he possibly could to what happened in the past few days.

Flashback

He walked into his kitchen on a Wednesday, nearly two weeks ago now, with his arms full of cans and bottles. The extra booze supply had his father in a better mood than ever. Yongguk got down on his knees in front of the pantry, moving the older cans to the back and arranging the newer ones in front, a line off sentinels to make any general proud. He'd start dinner after he finished the laundry, he planned, so his father could finish the bottle of whiskey he was nursing and calm himself down.

Yongguk thought the house had been unnaturally quiet all evening, but he wasn't about to miss this golden opportunity for a little peace. He could hear the muted noises of a football game through the open laundry room door, and the lull of the washer's rickety rocking was putting him to sleep. He could see the rain coming down in torrents and wondered if his mysterious visitor had stopped by yet.

He'd developed a system of taking one day's gifts and hiding them away on his room for the rest of the day and night, either sneaking the food into the cupboards in the dead of night or just waiting until his father was too drunk to notice, like today.

Yongguk knew that even though his father was completely smashed he'd be going out eventually, so he resolved to go out and check after he finished his folding. In his humming-twirling-sorting reverie he didn't notice the shadow darting past the window, he missed the sound of his father getting up, didn't hear the sound of the front door being unlocked.

Yongguk did, however, hear his father's scream of rage, and he cowered instinctively. He saw someone run down the driveway through the window beside him, and could practically smell the rain outside. He surmised that his shadow-helper had finally been caught in the act, and he cringed at the thought of his dad's reaction. Yongguk tried to melt into the wall behind him, too frightened to move as he heard the sound of footsteps.

His father filled the doorway entirely, the effect of the broad shoulders and imposing height was dulled by his glassy stare and accumulated fat. His beer gut poked out the bottom of his graying wife beater - Ironic. His breath reeked, and the gusts were so close that every time the man exhaled he blew hair back from his son's face.

The tips of Yongguk's hair quivered as the man got closer, pushing his chest against him and effectively barring his escape.

"What do you know about this?" he held up a shiny can Yongguk hadn't noticed in his grasp. The label was soaked and nearly peeling off, but Yongguk saw the word 'Cor-' poking out between the meaty fingers, and focused on it as he replied.

"I don't know anything about it." his voice was quiet and careful, but not even his best acting could have fooled his father.

It took a moment for those thick fingers to release the can and wrap themselves around Yongguk's windpipe, and the boy's head smacked painfully against the wall as he was pushed up against it. "You don't know anything about this, huh?" His father leered. "I bet you don't." His feeble attempt at sarcasm fell flat in the tense room, and he slowly loosened his iron grasp. "I'm watching you."

Yongguk resisted the urge to massage his throat, to show weakness. "Yes, sir."

It had only gotten worse from there, his father's renewed nightly beatings left him so weak that after a week he had to stop going to school. Make up could only conceal so much, and there were too many over-concerned teachers at that school, wary and cautious, overbearingly concerned even. After he stopped attending class, the beatings only got worse. No day went by without him fearing for his safety. His father was sick of having him around the house all the time, and took it out on him with frightening frequency. A week, an entire week he stayed home, his condition worsening with each passing day.

Yongguk came home from a walk, late in the afternoon, a week after leaving school. His father must have acquired some money in the interim, he was deep in a bottle of scotch and nearly passed out on the couch. The stench of sweat and alcohol was as strong as ever, so Yongguk inferred the man had been sleeping off and enormous quantity of booze for most of the day. He tiptoed into the kitchen, exhausted from his walk, and started in on the seemingly-endless laundry. This time, however, the blonde didn't miss the noise of the ancient recliner creaking and an old man heaving himself unsteadily to his feet.

Yongguk exhaled slowly, knowing what was coming. The man lumbered into the small laundry room, reeking to high heavens and heaving breathlessly. He merely stared up at him, eyes cowed but flashing defiance.

"You have to be taught a good lesson, boy." he turned and went into the kitchen for a few precious seconds, coming back with small, sharp knives in either hand. "And I'm your new teacher. Take your shirt off." He leered lecherously as Yongguk did as he was told, as he prepared himself for what could most likely lead to his death.

End Flashback

All he remembered from then on was blinding pain, getting clothes, and running away, and coming to this mysterious blue-haired boy's house. He stretched his arms above the bed and heard the satisfying shift and pop as his bones settled in place. He swung his stiff legs over the side of the low bed, planted his feet firmly on the cool wooden floor. Levering himself off the soft mattress took more effort than he had anticipated, and he was nearly breathless by the time he managed to lean himself against the nearby wall.

Yongguk was lightheaded, felt faint, and had to wait a solid minute before he could open his eyes and look around. He saw a tree, out the window to his left, and smiled at the birds he saw roosting there as he absentmindedly fixed his own bird's-nest hair. He turned back to the bed and was greeted with a face. Blue hair covered the pillow like a pillowcase, long and haywire and soft-looking.

The boy in front of him grumbled and moved around, readjusting and sighing. Yongguk watched him for a few seconds longer, taking in his facial features. He was cute, that was certain, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen him in school, but Yongguk hadn't had a chance to get this close to him in a long time. He noticed a previously unseen small scar right under his lower lip and  a small mole above his left eyebrow.

Yongguk had immediately known what that black bag on his doorstep was, once he'd opened it. The glint of metal and the tang of disinfectant disturbed him, but he hoped he understood the symbolism correctly. The boy had his arms under his covers, however, so Yongguk would have to play investigator. He stood on what he now thought of as 'his' bed and looked at the situation from this new, higher vantage point.

The blue-haired boy's arms were still entwined in the sheets and blankets, wrapped so tightly he couldn't tell where one ended and another started. He reached over, quiet as wind, and pulled on the covers. One of the arms twitched and he pulled back quickly. This continued, the repetition of sneak, pull, run, until, when the blankets had been almost fully pulled away, Yongguk heard a voice.

It was just a faint whisper, faint but still there. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" the voice was delicate, but the hard edge of irritation caught him off guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Yongguk debated his next course of action for a few seconds, before darting his cold hands under what was left of the blanket and pulling out the now-warm, thin arms. He turned them over and examined the undersides, from the crease of his elbows to the emaciated little wrists.

The skin there was pale and smooth, and only faint glimmers of scar tissue remained, the sole reminder of the violence of times past, but he didn't get much of a chance to examine more thoroughly. The bluenette hurriedly pulled his arms back, his mind automatically warning him not to let anyone see, and he fixed Yongguk with an icy glare. Yongguk managed to hold his gaze for nearly a solid minute, before busting out in laughter.

"That face! You're trying so hard to be scary, aren't you?"

His blue-haired savior ignored him stiffly, pushing himself into a sitting position and groaning, absolutely exhausted. "What time is it?" Yongguk recalled the manically flashing clock by his bedside, and just shrugged, quirking his head to the side, before replying. " I'm not sure. Seems pretty early, but someone's up in the kitchen." he eyed the bluenette warily, before hauling himself onto the top bunk as well. "So, mystery man, what's your name? I'm Yongguk. I like water, smiling, and other boys. How 'bout you?" he was rambling nervously, still unnerved by his new blue-pal's icy death glare, and started fidgeting with his hair and glancing around the room.

He opened his mouth to word-vomit more, but an icy finger sealed his lips and made him blush. The bluenette rolled his head, cracking his vertebrae, before settling back down into the comfort of his pillows. His voice was weary as he spoke. "My name is Junhong. This is my house, and that's my mother making breakfast, which leads me to believe it is between 6:30 and 7 am. I like books, sweet foods, and quiet boys." He shot a pointed glare at Yongguk. "I left some clothes for you at the foot of your bed, the bathroom is right across the hall. We'll talk over breakfast."

Junhong's lack of concern lessened Yongguk's worries, and he ventured to the bathroom with a new sense of self-assurance. The woman in the hall barely batted an eyelash as he walked past her, pausing only to hand him a soft towel and instruct him that the bathtub's hot water handle had to be wiggled to work. He stared at her retreating back as she walked off, and felt a profound sense of longing for a woman like her in his life. He just shook his head then, and opened the bathroom door quietly.

Yongguk emerged half an hour later, scrubbed pink and smelling faintly of strawberries. His raw skin stung on contact with the too-chilly hall air, but it was a small price to pay for washing off the grime of his night on the street. Lacking hair gel, the brunette let his hair dry flat and straight, liking the change of feeling and the breezy sensation of hair against his cheeks.

He darted across the hallway to Junhog's room, having forgotten the clothes and as such clad only in a towel. He opened the door stealthily, and nearly dropped his towel when he scrambled to shut it. Yongguk tried to forget the mental image of the (appealing?) Junhong he'd stumbled upon, and jumped a solid foot in the air when the door opened a moment later and a pile of clothing was pushed through the narrow opening.

Yongguk was a but shaken by this eerie display of normality, and extreme 180 from what he'd gone through a short while ago, and felt himself become more morose and pessimistic as he slid the unfamiliar clothing on. Thoughts of police involvement, living on the street, his angry father, and dropping out of high school all raced through his head with a frightening sense of reality, and he shuddered involuntarily as he leaned his weary head against the bathroom door. After a moment of silent contemplation, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a faint knock shook the eerie bathroom door, and he hurried to open it.

Junhong eyed him critically for a moment before his face broke out in a carefree smile that Yongguk had never had the privilege of seeing before. "Good. The clothes fit." Yongguk stared back for a few seconds, before he let a single sob escape his throat. He sank to the floor slowly, shaking and crying. Junhong looked at him in alarm for a few infinite seconds, before sinking to his knees and putting his arms awkwardly around the male.

Yongguk immediately latched onto the source of human companionship, and Junhong found himself running his absentminded fingers through brown locks as he rocked the boy.

The cries and shaking slowly subsided, and the two were left in a symbolic embrace, neither willing to let go. Yongguk sighed, his face pressed against Junhong's chest and murmured, "Thank you."

"No problem. Feeling better?" The taller of the two whispered, face pressed against Yongguk's soft hair.

"Yeah. It's just- It's a shock.. I-I can't believe it really happened, I'm out of there." his voice was barely audible, but the disbelief Junhong heard loud and clear. He held the boy a little tighter, crushing Yongguk to himself for a few seconds, before untangling their limbs and getting to his feet gingerly. Yongguk heaved a final sigh before accepting Junhong's proffered hand, standing up slowly and following the bluenette down the hall.

The atmosphere of Junhong's kitchen was eerily cheerful. His kind, busy looking mother bustled around madly, making breakfast for the two hungry boys as they chatted at the table. She thumped down huge plates, full of steaming-hot pancakes, and sat down across from Junhong. Yongguk could feel her assessing stare all through the meal, but that was to be expected. When the trio had all finished and pushed their plates away she leaned her chair back on two legs and spoke.

"My name is Jinmi, I'm Junhong's mother. I understand you've got some troubles at home, so I'll let you stay here until we have this whole thing sorted out."

"Thank you." Yongguk's voice was quiet and timid.

Junmi smiled comfortingly, prompting him to continue. "You're very welcome. Now, are you comfortable enough to talk about it? We're not going to judge you, we just want to know what's going on." Junhong nodded, giving him a comforting smile.

"Yes. I'll talk about it." Yongguk shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I-It started about…6 months after my step mom died. My real mother died giving birth to me, and my father was happy when Alexandra, my stepmother, came along. She died in a car accident, during my freshman year in school." he took a swallow of the coffee sitting next to his plate, and cleared his throat before he continued.

"He was devastated when Alexandra died. Dad barely came out of his room for a month, I lived with one of my friends then. When he finally got… better, he wasn't the same." His eyes started to water. "Everything was fine for a few months, but then he started- he started to hit me." Yongguk's voice dropped to the barest whisper. "I don't have any other family, so I couldn't leave him. He stopped working a while back, so I had to get two part-time jobs so I could pay the rent and buy food." his voice turned wry. "Amazingly enough, he always found money for booze."

Junhong scooted toward him and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. Yongguk leaned into the embrace gratefully, still talking. "He hit me all through high school. Sometimes I'd even have to skip school because I was too bruised and blooded up. Twice a week I got food from the church nearest to my house- and booze for him as well." His voice was venomous. "Two weeks ago, he got even worse. He started drinking more, I guess, he found out about you, Junhong. A week later I had to stop going to school." Jinmi looked puzzled, but Junhong just shook his head and gestured for Yongguk to continue. "I couldn't even go out of the house, after that."

Jinmi's hand tightened on the table, her knuckles turning white as she fought her anger.

"I've been saving money for a few years now, the bonuses I got at work and some odds and ends, so I figured if I ran away I'd at least be able to rent an apartment for a while." he stopped, his story told.

Jinmi let loose a stream of expletives not normally hear in polite company, her motherly instincts screaming. She calmed herself quickly, however, and spoke with an anger-laced, but very controlled tone. "Yongguk, dear, you can stay with us as long as you'd like. I can't imagine you want to go home anytime soon, and we do have an extra bed-"

Yongguk got up and threw his arms around her gently, trying to convey his gratefulness without causing himself bodily injury.

The female blushed, feeling properly thanked, and prepared to have another son.

Junhong didn't talk much, Yongguk noted with a wry smile, The boy maneuvered around the house with the grace of having lived there for a very, very long time, and it was nice to see the boy in this home element. He seemed more comfortable here than anywhere else, and more than once the brunette caught an unnervingly unfamiliar smile on his face.

He was there for a week before the police got involved.

Yongguk just nonchalantly strolled into his first period class when the teacher instructed him, fear evident in her eyes and manner, to go to the principal's office immediately.

His first clue that something was amiss ran straight into him. A gruff police officer reached out to steady the student as they crashed into each other, and, upon learning his name, was kind enough to Yongguk directly to his destination.

His second clue was the presence of his father, clean-shaven and well-dressed, in the office. He felt his father's strong, flabby arms wrap around him painfully- what looked like an innocent, fatherly embrace was actually just a reminder of how much he'd have to suffer for what he had done.

The policeman looked on obligingly, watching the eerily cheery man welcome his son, warned Yongguk about the consequences of running away, and left soon after.

Yongguk talked to the principal for a few minutes, apologizing for the trouble 'he' had caused, before returning to class with the promise to return home promptly after school weighing on him heavily. He found Junhong and the hallway between 6th and 7th periods, and they cut the rest of the day's classes to sit together on the roof of the school.

They sat on the edge of the rail around the perimeter of the roof, wary of falling. Junhong fiddled absentmindedly with his hair, flitting from one nervous habit to another, before settling down and mindlessly rubbing the scars on his left arm with a trembling thumb. "So you have to go back?" Junhong's voice was quiet, but it carried through the thin air, and echoed around them with an eerie, discordant sound.

"Yeah." Yongguk leaned against Junhong's side nonchalantly, taking comfort in his companion. "They know I was staying with you… I'm sorry. You'll probably get a good talking later."

"It's alright. Mom and I expected it. Will you be…alright? Alone with your father?" Junhong's voice was carefully schooled into a mask of pity and indifference.

"No. I won't. But there isn't much I can do, I have to wait until I'm 18 before I can get away - this fall. College is already taken care of, I'm going to live with my cousin Himchan in Incheon  and go to the community college there." His smile faltered momentarily. "You'll come and visit me, right? I don't think I can do this without you."

"Of course I'll come see you… but won't your father mind?" Junhong murmured sadly as he pulled his distressed friend into his arms. "Unless, of course, he doesn't know. I know my mom would be alright with me sneaking out to check on you after dark."

Yongguk smiled grimly. "I'll leave my window open for you. Wait until 10 or 11 though- by then he should be drunk enough to pass out pretty quick."

"Alright. We can do this - it's only for a few months." Junhong the ale's hair absentmindedly. "He'll be pretty angry tonight, won't he?" Yongguk nodded and frowned.

"Then I'll come early, and wait for you."

Yongguk shivered involuntarily, and Junhong could feel tears falling on his shirt, soaking through the thin fabric, but he couldn't tell if they were Yongguk's or his own.