Another show, another crowd, another typical day, but Sungjong wasn’t the same, not entirely. Everything was seemingly routine- he would perform twice a week at the Dasungsa Theater, scanning the hall for potential links while skillfully delivering his lines, but this time he was set on autopilot. This was an ability mastered solely thanks to his ever frequent performances, and now he could recite the script in his sleep, hence having no problem maintaining a flawless performance despite having his thoughts stray far from the given situation. He would let his eyes soar over the viewers, searching for anything he could work with, creating invisible knots between himself and his possible targets in his mind all while upholding his spot on pronunciation and perfect act. But this time he wasn’t looking for a link, and frankly he stopped doing that quite a while ago. Sungjong eventually noticed that his thoughts seemed to naturally drift towards a certain person these days, as they did then.

He stood in at the left corner of the screen like he always had, facing forward as he introduced the film he’d been narrating for his tenth time at least, but this time he allowed a brief lock of eyes with the forever attentive Myungsoo. His presence wasn’t surprising anymore, but the simply view of his familiar silhouette in the crowd was enough to make Sungjong’s heart jolt in his chest.

Yes, it started as a manipulation; Myungsoo was the perfect link- he was charming and well acquainted with numerous important individuals, and Sungjong was strictly all business the night Myungsoo walked up to him after the premiere of “At a Loss for Words”. And within minutes upon their first meeting Sungjong got all he needed to make sure Myungsoo was completely hooked, because Myungsoo was an open book; his adoration towards Sungjong was crystal clear, and Sungjong almost felt guilty to have to use him for his own benefit.

So he invited him to his shows and Myungsoo was more than diligent, thus marking the beginning of the inevitable waiting game. Sungjong needed Myungsoo to approach him first, making the connection seem like he was the one initiating it, but there were two reasons for Sungjong’s growing restlessness. The first was the obvious one- he needed Myungsoo’s help, and waiting for him to reach out was frustrating beyond compare, but the second reason was something Sungjong had not anticipated.

Myungsoo always sat in the perfect place for Sungjong to have a clear view of him, and he was always so terribly aware of his gaze. Sungjong couldn’t linger much on his silhouette in the crowd, but he just knew that Myungsoo was not watching the movie, but watching him, and that made him feel… strange. He first attributed the odd sentiment to never having had someone so fixated on his narration rather than the movie itself, but as the film progressed Sungjong began to realize that Myungsoo’s presence was causing him to be self aware in the best way possible, bringing out the best in him in every performance, and he started to crave it.

By his third show without Myungsoo’s interaction, Sungjong made a habit of subtly searching for Myungsoo’s face in the crowd. And it would always be incredibly easy because he’d always be sitting in that same 5^th row isle seat, as if he was the performer and Sungjong was the one who had a prepaid ticket. He would silently question his impeccable attendance on one hand and his reluctance to come forward on the other, but he wasn’t as troubled by it as he thought he would be. And by the third time Myungsoograced the theater with his presence, Sungjong had realized that he didn’t want him to be the link.

His link then became his muse, a silent force for Sungjong to feed on as he narrated what could now be his fiftieth gig and counting. Sungjong found himself holding his head higher when he knew that Myungsoo was watching, and his tongue moved swifter in his mouth, causing the script to suddenly become poetry. And when the lights went on again at the end, Sungjong could have sworn that the applause were always louder whenever Myungsoo sat in the crowd.

But what sealed the deal for him was the moment Myungsoo stumbled over to him, dazed and confused, wearing that adorable expression on his youthful face, and Sungjong then realized: he’s just a kid. Not literally a kid, obviously, because his angular shoulders and prominent Adam’s apple had nothing boyish about them whatsoever (and Sungjong couldn’t help but trace them hungrily with his eyes), but he was… naïve. He was bewildered and smitten and the last thing Sungjong wanted to do was to take that away from him by betraying his trust. He was charmed by Myungsoo’s wholeheartedness; by the way he seemed to throw his affection around unsparingly. He was unabashed and sincere, and no one like Sungjong had ever met before.

And at that point, Sungjong began to fear. He had just lost his link, his target for the last month or so, and he knew that Sunggyu would be less than happy, but he was only slightly troubled by that nibbling sense of dread in the back of his head. Because when Myungsoo was watching him everything felt… right, like they were the only two people in the vast hall, and like Myungsoo only had eyes for Sungjong. And Sungjong would not allow for that to be taken from him.

So when he placed that note on his seat, it was for the second reason. It was because Sungjong had decided that he wants to have Myungsoo closer, he wants to engage him and hear him and see him as more than a shadow in a crowded theater. He was intrigued by the contradiction which was Myungsoo’s mind and his appearance and wanted to get under his skin, to get a glimpse of that unconventional wiring of his, but more than anything, he wanted to have him. And when Sungjong on Myungsoo’s neck that night, not only was he satisfying his curiosity, he was marking his territory.

But Sungjong sobered up as the day progressed, and began to feel what could only have been described as self loathing. He did what he swore to himself that he wouldn’t do- he was using Myungsoo. Not in the original way he planned, but it could still be described as adding another toy to his prized collection of shiny trinkets. He acted out of pure possessiveness, and was horrified at the thought that Myungsoo was probably walking around all day covering his neck; covering Sungjong’s doing. And as he’d expected, Myungsoo was wearing a scarf that night as well and Sungjong knew that it wasn’t only due to the weather. But as his brows began to furrow at that thought, Myungsoo blinked at him from his seat, and for the first time since he started to attend his shows his lips spread into the warmest smile directed to no one else but Sungjong. And if Sungjong wasn’t such a professional he would have stuttered for sure.

As the lights dimmed, he allowed himself to glance at his muse one more time before the projector buzzed and clicked to life, and concluded that he wants nothing more than to keep Myungsoo safe. From what? From everything: from Sunggyu, from the world… from himself. And yet he couldn’t think of a better place for Myungsoo’s beautiful soul than his arms.

He promised in his note that he’s going to make up for his absence that morning, and planned on doing just that once the show was over, though he wasn’t quite sure what the actual form of compensation might be. But one thing was certain- Myungsoo deserved much better than Sungjong, and Sungjong was going to try and compare anyway.

“I’m glad you came.” Sungjong murmured against Myungsoo’s lips after greeting him with a soft kiss.

Having to see Myungsoo from the corner of his eye for nearly two hours without being able to touch him was practically painful for Sungjong, and his auto-piloted musings were not much help. He knew he had to get his hands on him as soon as the film was over, and dragging him to a dark alley behind the theater to do just so seemed like a fairly plausible idea.

Myungsoo returned the kiss eagerly, looking adorably slaphappy despite the compromising situation.

“How could I not?” He responded, and his cheeks looked rosy even in the dim surroundings. The blush could be attributed to the cold, but Sungjong preferred to think that maybe he was the cause of it.

 “Let’s go somewhere warmer,” Sungjong suggested, expecting Myungsoo to ask about where that might be, but he just nodded. He tried to be worried at the amount of trust Myungsoo seemed to grant him, but he chose to lean in and lay his lips on the crater of the dimple creasing Myungsoo’s cheek, counting his blessings inaudibly.

Sungjong decided to stir them both in the direction of his home, craving a slightly more private environment to give Myungsoo his undivided attention. The conversation was light as they entered Sungjong’s neighborhood, and as old and badly lit as it was, it didn’t seem so with Myungsoo’s odd throaty laughter echoing off the nearby buildings. They passed by the bar from last night on their way to Sungjong’s house when he suddenly heard his name being called beside him.

Sungjong halted to look for the source of the voice. He squinted in the dark and spotted a familiar figure leaning against the exterior of the bar.

“What a coincidence meeting you here, Sungjong-ah!” Sunggyu stepped out and in front of Sungjong with a smile that implied that the rendezvous was anything but.

Sungjong’s previous hilarity died abruptly and his jaw clenched shut in disdain. What is he doing here?

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Sunggyu asked in an attempt to break Sungjong’s defiant silence.

“I’m Kim Myungsoo,” Myungsoo reached his hand out, seemingly oblivious to tense atmosphere, and Sungjong almost swiped his hand away, not wanting there to be any sort of contact between these two men; between these two parts of his life.

But Sunggyu took Myungsoo’s hand and gave it a firm shake, supporting his elbow respectfully, and whereas that would have looked well mannered in any other occasion, Sunggyu’s gesture almost looked sarcastic. But Myungsoo didn’t seem to notice.

“Nice to meet you, Myungsoo-ssi,” Sunggyu retorted. “I’m Kim Sunggyu, one of Sungjong’s most treasured friends,” And now it was apparent that he was joking, but there was still a sharp edge to his words, causing even the jest to seem somewhat menacing. “Aren’t I?”

“Indeed you are,” Sungjong finally said in a flat reluctant tone, opening his mouth for the first time since Sunggyu approached. “And what brings you here this late at night?”

“Oh I was just visiting Kangin hyung in his bar and came out for a quick smoke,” He retorted, but Sungjong knew very well that Sunggyu doesn’t smoke. “Why don’t you two join me for a drink? It had gotten quite boring in there, I could use some company.”

Sunggyu sounded very gracious, but he reeked of hidden agenda and Sungjong was not having it.

“We’d love to, hyung,” Sungjong started, raking his mind for a valid excuse. “But it’s getting late and Myungsoo Sunbae was kind enough to me home, and I wouldn’t want to stall him more than I already have.”

“Oh, but I insist,” Sunggyu pleaded, turning his head to Myungsoo in search of sympathy. “You won’t mind staying to chat for another hour or so, would you?” Myungsoo opened his mouth to answer, but Sunggyu didn’t give him that chance. “Of course you won’t. In we go, then!”

“Turn up the radio, will you, hyung?” Sunggyu asked the bar manager from across the table, before pouring Myungsoo a glass of soju.

The luminescent aura that occupied the bar when Sungjong and Myungsoo inhabited it the other day was replaced with unmistakable tension. Sunggyu was smiling sweetly and was courteous as ever, but Sungjong couldn’t take his eyes away from him, staring at him suspiciously while gripping his own glass with whitened knuckles. He didn’t know what Sunggyu wanted, but he knew that he was about to find out.

“The terrorist organization, self proclaimed ‘Muhanui’, had stricken again last night, setting ablaze the headquarters of the Japanese municipality in Seoul with yet another traceless explosion. Authorities are still examining the scene in search for clues left by the left wing activists, a search that had been result less so far…”

Sunggyu clicked his tongue in disappointment before downing his drink with a swift gulp.

“These Muhanui guys are such a nuisance,” He dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Aren’t they, Myungsoo-ssi?”

Sungjong’s stare turned into a warning glare, but Sunggyu seemed to ignore it, and instead cocked his head to the side awaiting Myungsoo’s response.

“Well,” Myungsoo started, looking only slightly uncomfortable. “All they do is go head to head against Japanese gangs, and lately burn down buildings occupied by Japanese officials, but they don’t seem to hurt any civilians… so they’re just rowdy vandals, I suppose.”

Sunggyu laughed much harder than necessary, giving Myungsoo a hearty clap on the shoulder.

“I guess you’re right!” He hollered. “I’ll drink to that.” He raised his glass for Sungjong to fill, the latter doing it somewhat unwillingly, and clinked his glass with the other two. Myungsoo downed his drink with a smile, and Sunggyu sent Sungjong a sudden stern look, encouraging him to empty his cup first. Sungjong complied distastefully and Sunggyu swung his glass back right after.

“He’s clever. You’re clever.” Sunggyu turned to Sungjong and then to Myungsoo, but his compliment didn’t sound like a compliment at all. “How did you two meet, Myungsoo-ssi?”

Sungjong noticed that Sunggyu made sure to speak directly to Myungsoo almost exclusively, practically ignoring Sungjong’s presence altogether.

“At the Dansungsa, Sungjong-ssi narrated the latest film I starred in.”

“An actor!” Sunggyu exclaimed. “How convenient.” He turned to look at Sungjong, still smiling, but his grin failed to reach his eyes.

“Convenient, sunbae?” Myungsoo asked, finally beginning to pick up on Sunggyu’s subliminal tone.

“Ah, never mind, Sungjong knows what I mean.” And he did.

“How did you and Sungjong-ssi meet, sunbae?” Myungsoo suddenly asked, looking genuinely interested.

Sungjong froze as an icy chill slid down his spine, paralyzing him with dread. What was he going to say?

But Sunggyu didn’t look the least bit phased, if anything, his smile only widened in response.

“Sungjongie and I are… childhood friends of sorts.” He said after a moment, seeming to weigh his words with immaculate precision. And he wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t even half of the whole truth.  “He helped me get out of a dark place, and still is, actually.”

Sungjong’s pursed lips softened into an involuntary sympathetic frown; Sunggyu had finally spoken sincerely for the first time that evening. He and Sunggyu really were, really are, friends, but their relationship was constantly put on the line (mostly thanks to Sunggyu’s antics), and Sungjong stayed loyal all those years despite their differences and countless tests. They had gone through too much to break apart at the slightest hint of pressure, but they weren’t kids anymore, and their friendship had nothing childlike about it.

And the tension eased for a moment, but it returned as quickly as it had been broken when Sunggyu reattached his excessive smile back to his face in a gesture of feigned hospitality.

“But enough about us,” He retorted dismissively. “I’m curious about you. How come Sungjong hasn’t introduced you to us before?”

Sungjong noted that Sunggyu said “us” and not “me”, probably referring to their mutual circle of friends, but the underlying tone was quite clear. Sunggyu was on a mission to uncover Myungsoo whether Sungjong liked it or not, and Sungjong’s sympathy for his hyung vanished the moment his fake smile resurfaced on his lips.

“We’re newly acquainted.” Sungjong answered hurriedly, distrusting of what Myungsoo’s tongue might betray. He couldn’t allow him to see Sunggyu as a friend just yet.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” Sunggyu said not unkindly, and Sungjong could have sworn that Sunggyu’s gaze flickered just for a moment to Myungsoo’s scarf, but he dismissed it as his own paranoid overthinking.

“Have another drink, Sungjong-ah.”

Sungjong did not waste any time at the end of the impromptu drinking session with Sunggyu. After two excruciating hours of suspicious stares and sugar coated passive aggressiveness, the three men departed each to their own way, though Sungjong’s and Myungsoo’s way consisted of the same destination.

Sungjong had Myungsoo sprawled out on his bed when he began ing his shirt with what seemed to be some sort of frenzy. He resisted every urge to growl out a hushed “mine” over his skin as he kissed across his sternum and collarbones in an attempt to assure himself that Myungsoo was out of Sunggyu’s reach. This night turned out to be anything but what Sungjong had planned, but at least he still had the opportunity to end it on his own terms. 

Most of all, he needed a distraction. Sungjong did not want to end the night with the lingering taste of Sunggyu-poured soju (Myungsoo’s skin tasted much sweeter), and he also didn’t want to discuss what had just happened with Myungsoo, so he did his best to keep his mouth and thoughts occupied. Frankly it was a win-win situation, but Myungsoo seemed to have other plans.

“Sungjong,” Myungsoo said once Sungjong detached his lips from his own to trail them lazily across his pulse. Myungsoo did not call his name the way he did last night; he had something on his mind.

“Hm?” Sungjong was stalling.

“Sungjong, we need to talk.”

“Not really.” He sighed against his neck in a futile attempt to avoid the upcoming conversation.

“Yes, we really do.” Myungsoo shifted slightly under and away from Sungjong’s touch, and Sungjong rose off of him reluctantly. There goes my distraction.

Myungsoo sat up to lean against the headboard, looking at Sungjong with an unreadable expression.

“Sungjong, who is Sunggyu?”

Who was Sunggyu? A good man. A good man Sungjong caught by the collar while Myungsoo waited outside of the bar and threatened to stay the hell away from Myungsoo if he knows what’s good for him. A good man who laughed in his face and pushed him off, saying that he could only keep up his act so long, and that Myungsoo is smarter than he thinks. A good man who was right.

“Is he a part of Muhanui?” He didn’t wait for Sungjong to answer. “Are you a part of Muhanui?”

Sungjong was silent. He really had underestimated Myungsoo. He didn’t know how he managed to process his thoughts this fast, but he was more observant than Sungjong gave him credit for. He wondered what exactly it was that gave him away.

Both men sat across from each other on Sungjong’s narrow bed, and the tension was thick in the air as they eyed one another wordlessly. Sungjong on his lower lip for a moment, thinking of a valid response to Myungsoo’s spot on inquiry.

“Are you going to turn me in?” He finally said; his gaze still locked with Myungsoo despite every instinct screaming for him to run. He didn’t want to lie, he felt like the least bit he owed Myungsoo was the truth, as well as a chance to opt out of the whole deal… out of any sort of involvement in Sungjong’s life.

“No.” Myungsoo answered after what seemed like an eternity. “And that doesn’t change my opinion of you either.”

And Sungjong wanted to sigh in relief, though he wasn’t sure what he was more relieved about- the fact that he wasn’t going to jail or the fact that Myungsoo still felt some sort of affection towards him. But he remained silent.

“This doesn’t deter me as much as I thought it would.” Myungsoo then said, more to himself than to Sungjong.

Another silence.

“Sunggyu… He wants your help.” Sungjong spoke at last. “He will try to reach out again and he’s persuasive. This is your chance to leave. I suggest you take it.”

It hurt Sungjong more than he could ever imagine, but those words needed to be said. The last thing he wanted was to put Myungsoo in danger but he was compromised by association. He was willing to break what was probably the most meaningful link he has ever made if it ensured Myungsoo’s safety.

“Do you want me to leave?” Myungsoo didn’t sound hurt, but his question still made Sungjong’s chest tighten.

“No.” There was nothing he wanted less.

“Neither do I,” Myungsoo smiled softly, diminishing some of the heaviness in the air. “Besides, I think I can handle Sunggyu and his sleazy offers.”

Sungjong chuckled in response. “Oh, you don’t know Sunggyu.”

“I don’t really know you either, do I?” And he was right.

“And yet you’re still sitting here with your shirt ed instead of reporting me to the cops.” Sungjong’s tone was light, but he was only half joking.

“I guess you’re right.” Myungsoo chuckled and hunched over slightly in an act of sudden self awareness.

Sungjong was quiet for a while, taking in the sight of Myungsoo sitting on his bed looking abashed with his smooth skin peaking from the opening of his shirt, and realized that he would have found a way to lasso the moon off from the sky for him if Myungsoo had so desired (and immediately scolded himself mentally for being so melodramatic).

“What would you like to know?”

Myungsoo looked up at Sungjong with a puzzled expression, still toying with the hem of his button up.

“Ask me anything you’re curious about. We’re going to do this properly.”

Sungjong wasn’t sure whether opening up to Myungsoo was the wisest thing to do, because they really were “newly acquainted”, but Myungsoo had been nothing but trustful towards Sungjong, and he found that he wanted it to be mutual. He wanted Myungsoo to be more than a beautiful stranger.

“Really?” Myungsoo asked, bright eyed with his enthusiasm, and Sungjong held back from cupping his adorable smiling face between his hands.

 “Yeah,” Sungjong smiled in response. “As long as you keep your shirt ed.”

Myungsoo erupted into his goofy chortle and Sungjong couldn’t help but laugh along.

 “Deal.”

Saying that the night ended unexpectedly was a complete understatement, but Sungjong was surprised to admit that he wasn’t disappointed with the outcome. Sunggyu’s intricate train wreck had been deliberately arranged, but for once Sungjong was actually thankful that Sunggyu was there to ruin his day, because Myungsoo was there to make it all better.

“Well then,” Sungjong repositioned himself on the bed, now sitting cross-legged and attentive across from Myungsoo. “Ask away.”