Park Chanyeol worked in a very upper class café that was frequented by celebrities and the extreme upper-class. It was great, because he got crazy tips on the already crazy-priced coffee, but it also because the people were so picky. If they asked for twenty chocolate sprinkles and only got nineteen, they would send the whole drink back, and if they watched then Chanyeol would have to make the whole drink over. (Of course, if they didn’t, Chanyeol would just wait a couple minutes and add the extra damn sprinkle.) Either way, he lost out of a tip when those kinds of things happened.

The worst time to be in the café, though, was when both Do Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin were in the shop. Chanyeol loathed these times. Both of them were regulars to the café, and there were times when their schedules would overlap and they would both come in for coffees and it was absolutely horrible. Those two seriously made Chanyeol want to quit his job and go back to working at a crappy Starbucks.

Do Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin were the most relevant presidents of their respective companies in the Jongno district. Even the citizens who didn’t care about the happenings of the business world knew the two men. They were the youngest presidents in Jongno, but also easily the best looking, which was where the majority of their popularity came from. Do Kyungsoo had inherited his grandfather’s insurance company, which had been around for nearly sixty years, after receiving his business degree at the age of twenty-two. Meanwhile, Kim Jongin had founded his own electronics company twelve years ago and had since worked very hard to turn it into the richest and most significant electronics – and just general – company in Jongno. Now, the pair at thirty-five and thirty-six, they were powerful and, for some reason, they were rivals.

Perhaps it was just striving to own the number one company, since they were always battling it out to be on top. However, Chanyeol thought it was odd, that an electronics and an insurance company would compete. For some reason, it always felt like it was far more personal than just being the richest man.

One evening, Kim Jongin was sitting in the café, drinking his plain, black coffee, when Do Kyungsoo came in, making Chanyeol cringe. He braced himself for the torture the next hour would bring. Do Kyungsoo ordered a peppermint latte and turned to go take a seat, spotting Kim Jongin on the far side of the café, his eyes narrowing. He turned back to Chanyeol, and demanded that a dragon be drawn in his latte, because he was Do Kyungsoo, and he didn’t have to say anything more. Chanyeol could’ve cried. First of all, he was not a latte artist. Second, that meant the battle was beginning, and Kim Jongin hadn’t even seen Do Kyungsoo yet.

Great.

Chanyeol passed the order on to his co-worker and friend, Minseok, who loved latte art and had more or less been hired on his incredible skills in that area. (Also, he loved coffee a lot, but his art was what made him stand out.) He was given a five dollar tip on the six-dollar latte, splitting the tip with Minseok (since all he’d really done was taken Do Kyungsoo’s order) and then waiting, watching. Do Kyungsoo moved to the opposite side of the shop that Kim Jongin was on, taking his usual place and staring at the only other customer as if hoping he would notice him. Feeling eyes on him, Kim Jongin looked up, and Do Kyungsoo quickly glanced away, reaching for a stack of magazines and pulling off the top book. Glancing at the cover, he tossed it back down, eyes wandering over the table before he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

There were four people working in the shop including Minseok and Chanyeol. Exchanging a glance with the other two workers, Chanyeol nodded slowly. Apparently he and Minseok would be on Do-ssi duty, while the other two handled Kim Jongin. This was how it always was, the staff splitting themselves in two team-like groups to cater to the snobby presidents on their every whim. Once Do Kyungsoo made an order, Kim Jongin would be quick to counter with something of his own, and then the two would battle it out, ordering this and that. The staff likely wouldn’t put up with it if they didn’t get such great tips from the favouritism; tipping was another way the presidents liked to show one another up, and it usually ended with all the staff members going home with pockets full of bills.

As Chanyeol went to wait on Do Kyungsoo – who decided he wanted some obscure American newspaper which Chanyeol literally had no hope of finding (he would have to print of the latest edition page for page, and that was going to take several minutes although Do Kyungsoo was asking for it immediately) – Kim Jongin demanded the attention of another server, asking for who knows what, there was a collective sigh amongst the staff. It was going to be a long night.

It didn’t take long for the two to start calling each other out. They said such harsh things to each other, and Chanyeol couldn’t understand how they even knew some much about one another. Did they research each other on the internet or something? But Chanyeol was sure they knew things that weren’t on the internet.

“Hey, Kim Jongin, is your father still an alcoholic?”

“Don’t get me started on your father, Do Kyungsoo. At least mine didn’t have everything handed to him in life. He worked for everything he’s got.”

“Yeah, you mean like his wife? Did he work hard to get her? Or did he just knock her up and then guilt her into staying? It had to have been guilt, too, because why would anyone stay with scum like him, and then with a pathetic child like you? I bet she was glad when he killed her. She probably welcomed it, finally getting away from you two.”

“Your mother left you willingly, because she couldn’t stand you or your father! And now he’s banging some younger than you. Are you following his footsteps, too, Kyungsoo? Not even bothering with a marriage, just going straight to the es? Since no one in their right mind would ever settle down with you. A girl won’t even marry you for your money.”

“You haven’t even been with a girl since high school! Even then, I bet you didn’t sleep with her. At least I get girls; you’re probably still a and the only people that go in your apartment are your dogs.”

They carried on back and forth like this, and Chanyeol just tried to tune it all out.

 

At the age of twelve, Do Kyungsoo moved with his family to a pleasant village in a posh part of town. He was an only child, since his parents had “got it right on the first try” after birthing a son. Kyungsoo’s father had been looking for an heir of his own father’s company, and Kyungsoo would be that person. Despite his mother wishing to have another child, he never received another sibling. That didn’t bother Kyungsoo, though. Moving for the first time in his life, however, did bother him. He had argued with his parents that moving was a bad idea, that in just two years he’d be going to high school and he couldn’t be separated from his friends, and besides that, their village was not far from a very impoverished village, only divided by a large park where both rich and poor kids came to play. He lost his argument, though, and a month later was unpacking boxes in a new home.

After a week in the new place, Kyungsoo’s mother had made friends, and his father had already barricaded himself in his new office, piled in his work. Kyungsoo, meanwhile, had ventured to the park a few times, and found it fascinating. There was like an invisible barrier down the centre of the park, and no one ever crossed from their side to the other. The rich kids stayed on one side, the poor on the other. There were even two playgrounds, one far more elegant and up kept, the other basic and shabby. Now and then, Kyungsoo would journey to the middle of the park, eyes watching him to see if he would actually cross, and he would take a seat right where the line was in his mind. He would take a book to read, or just lie down and stare up at the sky. The risk of it was immensely enjoyable; he liked showing everyone that he didn’t have to follow their rules. It was how he gained their respect.

One day doing this, while he was looking for shapes in the clouds, someone’s face came into view, hovering above his own. Kyungsoo sat up and looked back at the someone, seeing them standing on the poor side of the field.

The someone was a boy around his age, with mussed up hair and plain clothing, just khaki pants and a stained white shirt that stood in stark contrast to his dark skin. Unlike Kyungsoo, all of his baby fat was long gone, and he was in fact rather skinny. The circles under his eyes suggested that he was tired, but when Kyungsoo looked at him, he offered a sunny smile that almost blinded him.

“Hello,” the boy said warmly. “I’m Kim Jongin.”

“I’m Do Kyungsoo,” Kyungsoo replied, returning his smile. He couldn’t help it; the boy was contagious. “I just moved here.”

Jongin’s smile brightened impossibly. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” Kyungsoo patted the grass beside him happily, lying back again. As Jongin followed Kyungsoo’s actions, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Watching the clouds,” Kyungsoo explained. “Seeing if there’s anything to see in them.”

“Oh. I do that too. Now we can do it together.” And Kyungsoo felt very warm at that.

They chatted a lot after that, telling themselves about each other and their families. Jongin was very impressed to hear about Kyungsoo’s dad and grandfather, and how Kyungsoo would own the company one day. Kyungsoo was amazed that Jongin’s family even had a home, since his mother had died and his father was an avid drinker. Jongin’s noona was the only real income in the home. At the end of the day, they promised to meet again tomorrow, and Kyungsoo went home the happiest he had ever been.

Around that time was when Kyungsoo’s parents started fighting. Maybe they had fought before then – in fact, they had – but they began to do so more often, more loudly, and more aggressively. Kyungsoo’s mother wasn’t happy about moving; she wasn’t happy about a lot of things, but that had apparently been the final straw for her. Over the next few weeks, his parents fought on until one night his mother tucked him in and said goodnight and promised she would always love him. The next morning, all of her things were gone and so was she.

Kyungsoo talked to Jongin about all of it, and when he told Jongin that his mom had left, Jongin hugged him for a very long time while Kyungsoo cried on him. After that day, he didn’t cry again, but Jongin would always hug him when they would part and promise to see him again soon. One night, he asked if he could walk Kyungsoo to his house so he could see the place, and Kyungsoo loved how awed Jongin was by it. Kyungsoo didn’t think his house was that exciting, but Jongin looked at it like it was a palace. When Jongin asked to come in, though, Kyungsoo denied him, telling him he should get home before it got too dark. Jongin didn’t question it, hugging him goodnight and going.

With every day he spent with Jongin, Kyungsoo grew to like the younger more and more. He knew his dad would hate to hear about his new, poor friend. But Kyungsoo didn’t care that Jongin had no money; he was very smart, and he could make Kyungsoo laugh, and whenever Jongin smiled at him it made him feel fuzzy. They could talk about all sorts of things or nothing at all, and never be bored. Some days they would lie on their backs for hours, staring at the shapes in the clouds. Other days, there would be no clouds, but Jongin would pretend, pointing to imaginary clouds and describing them for Kyungsoo, until Kyungsoo would say “I can see it!” happily and start describing another cloud himself. Kyungsoo loved being around Jongin. But after a while, he realized his feelings spanned beyond those of friendship. He had developed a crush on Kim Jongin, and he had to tell him.

The idea of confessing was a lot easier in theory. In his mind, Kyungsoo was bold and confident and knew how to get anything he wanted, but in reality he was so anxious about Jongin rejecting him. He was an upper-class snob, after all, and Jongin had no reason to ever feel that way about him when he was “poverty filth” as Kyungsoo’s father would say.

It wasn’t until the last week of summer that Kyungsoo finally plucked up the courage to confess to Jongin. He woke up one morning and told himself today’s the day, and marched himself over to the park early, waiting for Jongin to come by. When he did though, Kyungsoo chickened out. He played with Jongin all day, trying to force himself to find his bravery again, but he couldn’t do it. At the end of the day, Jongin started walking Kyungsoo home again as he often did, but when they reached the edge of the park, Kyungsoo stopped. I have to do this, he told himself.

He opened his mouth to tell Jongin how he felt, but his voice died out as he stared up at Jongin’s perfect face, Jongin’s confused and expectant eyes. Feeling himself blushing and needing to save himself, he leaned forward and pressed his lips briefly to Jongin’s, the way he’d seen adults do, and fulfilled a desire he had had no understanding of until the moment their lips touched.

When he pulled away, he said quietly, “I like you, Kim Jongin.”

“

The first time Jongin saw Kyungsoo, he thought he was great. He didn’t care about the unspoken rules of the park; he sat in the middle of the grounds like he owned the whole place and no one ever told him against it. After a couple of days, Jongin went to talk to Kyungsoo, and found the boy to be even better than he’d ever imagined. By the end of the day, they were friends. Every day after, Jongin came back to Kyungsoo.

Jongin liked that Kyungsoo didn’t treat him differently because he was poor. He liked that Kyungsoo didn’t laugh at his clothes that were usually dirty or too small, and that he brought an extra snack for him, not out of pity, but because Kyungsoo wanted to share his food. When Kyungsoo had learned what Jongin liked best, he had started bringing those snacks for him. Jongin liked Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped smile and how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, and how his face was so round and he still was kind of chubby unlike Jongin. He liked how much tinier Kyungsoo was compared to him, even though they were about the same height. Everything Kyungsoo did became something Jongin liked. And somewhere along the lines, Jongin began to fall for the upper-class boy.

Except Jongin was still poor, and he could never dream of being with someone like Kyungsoo. Not in a hundred years. So Jongin kept his love a secret, making sure Kyungsoo would never even guess how Jongin felt. There were times when he slipped up, like when he almost started crying after Kyungsoo told him his mother had left them, and how he would hold his hand sometimes after that or hug him too tightly when Kyungsoo would leave at the end of the day. But Kyungsoo could interpret it as Jongin just being sympathetic, and Jongin hoped he was interpreting it that way, because he didn’t want to lose his friendship with Kyungsoo.

On one of the final nights of the summer, however, something changed his entire life. As usual, Jongin walked Kyungsoo home at the end of the day. This night, though, something stopped Kyungsoo before they were even off the park property. He turned around purposefully and faced Jongin head on, and before Jongin even knew what he was doing, Kyungsoo’s mouth was against his. Another second passed and Kyungsoo moved back again.

“I like you, Kim Jongin.”

Jongin was speechless. He never thought Kyungsoo would say that to him. Him, the poor boy from the park with the alcoholic father and the ugly clothes and no prospect in the future. Kyungsoo already had his whole life set; he had a career and a fortune to inherit, he would probably get married and have a kid or two. Jongin would probably go down the alcohol road, maybe end up meddling with drugs, die young if he was lucky. If not, he would spend forty years or something working in fast food, commit suicide when it became completely unbearable and he realized how worthless he was. As an eleven year old, it was sad to think of his future that way, but it was the reality he had been brought up with, and he figured he might as well face the facts now. So how could Kyungsoo see any potential in him? What cause did he have to like him, to kiss him?

Feeling utterly flustered, Jongin’s mind went into denial. He couldn’t like Kyungsoo. He couldn’t be with him; it would only bring him down. And he couldn’t allow Kyungsoo to like him in return, because it would only cause the other boy trouble. Jongin wasn’t worth troubling Kyungsoo.

“What – what does that mean?” he blurted out. “I don’t like you – I would never like someone as ugly as you.”

Kyungsoo gaped. His eyes welled with tears but he quickly blinked them away, composing his features into an indifferent mask before giving a snort.

“

Kyungsoo felt his heart drop through his stomach as Jongin told him he didn’t return his feelings, that he thought Kyungsoo was ugly. A lump rose in his throat, his chest tightening painfully. Eyes burning, he blinked quickly and calmed himself before laughing as if something about this horrible situation was funny.

“Please,” he scoffed venomously, hoping his words sounded stronger than he felt. “Did you think I was serious?” Jongin’s face fell slightly, eyes filling with confusion. “I only did that so that you would be able to experience it once in your life. No one would ever actually like a poor kid like you.”

And before Jongin could say anything else, Kyungsoo took off, tears beginning to fall the moment he turned his back on the other boy. His tears streamed all the way he ran home, and they didn’t stop until he fell asleep later that night. That was the last day he would ever be Kim Jongin’s friend.

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Kyungsoo would show him. He would never let himself be ugly again. He would work so hard to become beautiful that he would blow Jongin away. And one day, when he was more beautiful than any model, any celebrity, Jongin would come crawling back to him. And Kyungsoo would just laugh.

“

From that point on, Jongin didn’t talk to Kyungsoo anymore. He would still see Kyungsoo at the park, but the boy didn’t go to the middle of the park anymore, spending time instead with the other rich kids. Occasionally Jongin would see Kyungsoo looking his way, but he was always just glaring at him, so Jongin would glare back as best he could.

What Kyungsoo had said to him stayed with him though. Kyungsoo didn’t like him because he was a poor kid. So from then on, Jongin began working very hard, studying a lot and getting better grades. Within three years he was at the top of his class, and got a scholarship to enroll in the upper-class private high school – the same one Kyungsoo already attended. Still, Kyungsoo barely acknowledged him.

Others did, though. They admired Jongin for his intelligence, and for his good looks. Quickly, he built a great circle of friends, going up in the ranks of popularity to Kyungsoo’s level. Of course, Kyungsoo himself was very popular; he had become far more good-looking in the past few years, losing his baby fat and becoming well shaped, even though his shoulders remained quite narrow. Jongin thought he was beautiful either way. Many people were also interested in Kyungsoo because of his family’s company, and his excessive wealth.

Jongin kept his grades up in the nineties all throughout high school, earning another scholarship, this time into a renowned business college. Again, Kyungsoo was there. Again, Jongin was utterly ignored by him. Now and again Kyungsoo dated someone, and so did Jongin, but both of them struggled to maintain a relationship. Jongin preferred to focus on his schooling; he didn’t know what Kyungsoo’s reasoning was.

By the time Jongin graduated from college, Kyungsoo was already running his family’s company. Jongin was hired quickly, and his intelligence and perseverance pushed him through several promotions, until after only two years, he was given the opportunity to begin his own business with the help of his current company offering to get him on his feet. After three years, he was up and running all on his own, out of debt from his previous company. By age thirty, Jongin was the president of one of the top two businesses in all of Jongno.

The other business was Kyungsoo’s.

 

Kyungsoo slipped into the café’s bathroom, needing to take a break from all of Jongin’s harassment. They’d been going at it for nearly forty-five minutes now, bossing the shop’s staff around to show one another up. It was all just a pointless effort to show who was better than whom, and it always ended up with both of them going home in a bad mood. Kyungsoo could feel that mood sinking in already, and he needed to put the whole thing on pause for a minute if he hoped to outlast Jongin tonight. Thus, he’d left for the bathroom, going into one of the stalls for a moment. While he was in there, he heard someone else enter the bathroom, and wondered if it was Jongin or a staff member. There was no one else in the café.

Flushing his toilet, he left the stall and caught sight of Jongin in the mirror. Jongin rolled his eyes at the sight of him – as if he didn’t know Kyungsoo was in there; he’d probably followed Kyungsoo in – as he leaned against the sink and began washing his hands. Kyungsoo chose a sink farthest from Jongin, lathering soap into his own hands and washing them quickly, not wanting to be in the same room as Jongin alone.

“Still pretty as ever, aren’t you, hyung?” Jongin sneered under his breath. He often said he called Kyungsoo ‘hyung’ mockingly, but Kyungsoo thought he’d just never broken the habit. Kyungsoo didn’t even bother to look in the mirror; people told him he was gorgeous all the time, but he never believed it. He just gritted his teeth, holding back from making any vicious comments. Jongin didn’t stop, though. “Heard your company is under some pressure lately,” he hissed. Kyungsoo didn’t meet his eyes in the mirror. “Because the president is sleeping around with hookers. And now all the are coming out of the woodwork, and even all the s your father hooked up with are opening up about it.” Jongin stepped closer; Kyungsoo could feel him intruding his space, but he just kept washing his hands fiercely and trying to tune out the other’s words.

It was all lies, and Kyungsoo knew it. A month ago he’d gone to a strip club, and gone home with a girl drunk. One girl. And now a whole bunch of other girls were saying that they too had slept with Kyungsoo, painting him as a manwhore who couldn’t control his ual urges and picked up girls every night. With his father’s past, though, people believed all the lies the girls were feeding them, rather than trusting Kyungsoo. He hated it, but he had no idea what to do about it, so he just let his publicist handle the worst of it and denied everything.

“You’re cracking.” Jongin’s lips were almost touching Kyungsoo’s ear, and Kyungsoo shivered. He was closer than Kyungsoo had realized. “It won’t be long before you start to crumble, and then your whole world will fall apart at your feet.”

“Is that what you think?” Kyungsoo asked through his teeth, turning his head to glare at Jongin. Their faces were just inches apart from each other, but neither of them backed off. “And then what? You’ll rise from my ashes? That’s the only way you could ever be above me. But I won’t break over a minor scandal. Too many people admire me – even more now, since I can still run a company better than anyone when I’m getting it in every night.” Jongin didn’t need to know it wasn’t true. Kyungsoo just wanted to watch him suffer.

With that, Kyungsoo shoved past the younger and left the bathroom without a word, feeling satisfied. There was a voice in his mind – one that he constantly tried to drown, suffocate, murder, but that continually came back to whisper in his ear – that told him he was horrible, that Jongin didn’t deserve this and that Kyungsoo didn’t want this, but, as always, Kyungsoo pushed it away. It couldn’t tell him how to think or feel.

Kyungsoo went back to his couch, making himself comfortable and clearing his thoughts of Kim Jongin. The staff were watching him cautiously, curious as to what had occurred in the bathroom no doubt, and wondering what would happen next, what he would ask for, what he would make them do. He wondered how bold he would be to ask one of them to go down on him, right there. Wouldn’t that just blow Jongin’s mind? As if he could top that.

He was seriously contemplating it (although his mind was leaning towards no; he wasn’t really up for it anyway) when a group of men came into the shop, all wearing air masks and hoodies. It wasn’t too unusual for people to be covered up when they came in here, since lots of celebrities came here and didn’t want to be spotted by cameras, but this group seemed off. They were all too tense, acting too casual that it came off as robotic and unnatural. All of their sweaters were too big, too, reaching far past their hands. Kyungsoo watched them, unnoticed from his seat, and then the man in the front nodded and all of their arms moved, sleeves rolling back and revealing guns, which were immediately pointed at all of the staff members. Stupidly, Kyungsoo jumped up, and a gun was pointed at him. Instinctively, his hands flew up palm forward, eyes widening hugely. The gunman stared at him for a moment, and then he nudged the man beside him.

“Hey, isn’t that Do Kyungsoo?”

Curse Kyungsoo’s popularity. He was on TV quite often speaking for his company, but also because he had a charming personality and stellar looks, people would invite him onto their shows. This resulted in him being recognized often, which was fine, until someone had a gun. Please be a fan and let me off. Don’t kill me to make yourself famous.

“Yeah, it is,” the second man said gleefully. “This has just become much better than a robbery.”

No, no, no! “Wait-”

He was cut off. “He doesn’t even have his guards around or anything. This is too good.”

The front man approached Kyungsoo quickly, grabbing him by the back of his collar. Something cold and hard pressed against the back of his head.

“Come on, princess,” he said gruffly. “Let’s go for a ride, shall we? I’m sure you have far more money than this place,” he added, applying sharp pressure to the gun, pushing Kyungsoo forward. Kyungsoo’s heart was racing, because there was no way for him to get out of this. If he didn’t walk out of the shop with them right now, he would be murdered. No amount of money was worth his life.

“Hey!”

Kyungsoo gulped as a gun was pointed past him, aimed at the back of the restaurant. He didn’t have to turn to know that Jongin had just come out of the bathroom. Idiot. He could have just stayed in there and been safe, but no, he had to draw attention to himself. Purposely, too, by the sound of it.

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men snapped at him. Kyungsoo could almost hear Jongin’s frustration; unlike Kyungsoo, Jongin didn’t frequent television screens so often, and thus fewer people knew him. However, he wasn’t totally unpopular. Younger than Kyungsoo and arguably even better looking (not that Kyungsoo would admit it), as well as being self-made, Jongin had garnered attention of his own, and he didn’t go unnoticed either.

“That’s – no way, Do Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin are here?”

“Just let him go,” Jongin told them boldly. “You’re wasting your time on that kid. His company’s gone for a crap; he won’t have any money to give you.”

“And you do?” someone asked him.

“Of course, I’m Kim Jongin.” Kyungsoo couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Jongin’s ego was going to get him killed, but Kyungsoo wasn’t going to stop him. “I’m far richer than he’ll ever be, and only going on the rise. He’s reached his expiry date. If you’re gonna take someone, I’m the one you want.”

Kyungsoo opened his mouth to argue, because how dare he? But then he realized that Jongin, whether he was being honest or egotistical or not, was offering himself to be taken in Kyungsoo’s place. He sounded utterly confident in himself, but they both knew it was all lies – which meant he was intentionally selling himself to save Kyungsoo. Or maybe Kyungsoo was reading too much into it. But it certainly sounded like he was bargaining himself so that Kyungsoo could be let go.

The men were talking among themselves quietly, but whatever they said was short. One of them gestured at the man behind Kyungsoo, ordering to “take both,” and the next thing Kyungsoo knew he was receiving a blow to the head, and after a second of pain, he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

Kyungsoo’s head ached. His face hurt, and his arms were uncomfortably pulled behind his back, wrists burning. He tried to shift his weight, turning his head away from the grimy ground beneath him and looking around. A few inches from his face was a dark, dusty brick wall, and to the right of him was a vast, open space of darkness. Groaning, he rolled onto his back awkwardly, and pushed himself into a sitting position. He attempted to pull his hands apart from behind him, but then spotted a rope tied tightly around his ankles, and came to the conclusion that his wrists were likely in the same state. Rope was digging into his skin, and it hurt to try and move his arms because of it anyway, so he just sat still, trying to piece everything together.

It was then, as he glanced around to figure out where he was, that he noticed a body a metre or so away from him. They too were tied by the wrists and ankles, body rising and falling slowly but showing no signs of consciousness. The long limbs and dark toned hands and neck – the only exposed skin visible to Kyungsoo – contrasting a ruffled, long-sleeved white shirt were a giveaway to the other’s identity. Kim Jongin was there with Kyungsoo.

Images of guns and masked men filled Kyungsoo’s mind. A robbery turned kidnapping. Kim Jongin speaking up for Kyungsoo in hopes that they would let him go… Evidently, his plan had failed, as they were both in this now. Rather than worrying about their safety, however, the first thing that came to Kyungsoo’s mind was what a mess he must have looked like. Like Jongin, his suit jacket had been torn off and he was left in his dress shirt, which was likely filthy as the floor. His face had been pressed into the ground, too, and he could feel his hair sticking out terribly. He couldn’t bear the idea of Jongin seeing him in a wreck like this. Scooting his , he turned his back to the other and began to cry.

An hour or so passed before Jongin began to stir. There were grunts from behind Kyungsoo as the other undoubtedly tried to sit up, and then a quiet gasp.

“Kyungsoo?” How had Jongin recognized him so easily? Then again, he himself had known Jongin immediately. Because they were such enemies, he supposed. You had to know your enemy from every angle.

“Don’t speak to me,” Kyungsoo told him. “You’re an idiot and I don’t want you talking to me.”

“What did I do?” Jongin asked weakly. Then his voice changed, filling with frustration. “What – because I tried to save you, you’re mad at me?”

“You could’ve hid and they never would have found you, stupid! But no – now I’m stuck in captivity with you because you had to be a pompous prick.”

Jongin was silent for a moment. “Is that what this is about? You’re angry because you have to be stuck with me?”

No. I’m angry because we’re both gonna die, and I’ve wasted my whole life trying to get at you and now we both lose. “That’s part of it,” he said. “And because you’re stupid.”

“Well, I can’t control that,” Jongin said coldly. There was a shuffling sound, and Jongin’s voice drew closer. “I can’t control what you think of me.”

“Stay away from me,” Kyungsoo ordered, glancing back quickly to see where Jongin was. Too close. He ducked his head, facing away from Jongin firmly. “Go away.”

Jongin sighed, and Kyungsoo chewed on his lip, listening for the sounds of the other moving back. But there was only silence between them for a long time. When Jongin finally spoke, Kyungsoo jumped.

“Are we gonna keep doing this, hyung?” His voice sounded exhausted, and there was no hint of his confidence left in his voice. “Are we gonna die hating each other over some stupid words we said twenty-five years ago?”

The scuffling noise sounded again. “Don’t,” Kyungsoo ordered. Silence. “Don’t act like they were just words.” His throat felt thick at the thought, that maybe it had meant so little to Jongin. “I’m not gonna let myself die like this,” he added quietly.

“Like what?”

“Ugly.” Not after all these years trying to reach perfection. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t die here, looking the way he did. He refused to die this way.

“What are you talking about?” Jongin asked, sounding incredulous.

“You know what I’m talking about!” Kyungsoo snapped, voice cracking. “You told me you would never like me because I’m ugly. I’ve spent my whole damn life ever since trying to be perfect; I’m not dying in vain of that!”

“Kyungsoo-”

“Stay back!” Jongin had moved again, and Kyungsoo turned his head, bowing it as much as he could so his hair would cover his face.

“Kyungsoo, that’s ridiculous,” Jongin huffed. “You’ve wasted years trying to attain something you already have, you idiot. Why would you believe me?”

“I don’t want your sympathy,” Kyungsoo tried to tell him angrily, but he choked on his words. Jongin’s voice had softened, warmly spouting utter nonsense. Kyungsoo didn’t want the man trying to make him feel better. He’d had years to do that; just because they were maybe going to die didn’t mean Jongin was allowed to bull him.

“It’s not sympathy,” Jongin returned gently. “Honestly, hyung, I know you’re stupid, but really? I only ever said you were ugly because – well, I’m an idiot, and it’s the first thing that came to my mind so I could reject you. Oh, that sounds bad.” Kyungsoo could almost feel him blushing. “I just mean that, you were a rich kid and you had everything going for you, and I was a hopeless rat and I thought it would be bad to have you like me because my family was a mess and I was a mess and I didn’t think you needed that in your life.

“And, I dunno, ‘ugly’ was just the first thing I thought of,” he went on. Kyungsoo’s ears were ringing, and he felt very sick at Jongin’s words. “Being as rich as you are, that could never change how beautiful or ugly you are. So I figured that would throw you off, I guess. But then you said you were just joking anyway, so then I felt really stupid for having said it, but I thought you hated me so I couldn’t ever take it back. And I never got to tell you because I didn’t want you to have anything on me – but if we’re going to be killed, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I feel stupid for being so childish now,” Jongin sighed. “Wow. I messed things up pretty bad.” Once again, he moved, and in a second Kyungsoo felt pressure on his shoulder – Jongin’s shoulder, brushing against his. “Hyung…”

“Don’t look at me,” Kyungsoo said weakly, still keeping his face down. There were tears splashed across his cheeks now, and he didn’t want Jongin to see him at all. “I look like hell.”

“Kyungsoo, did you hear anything I said?”

“Yes. I’m still ugly.”

Jongin chuckled. “You never were, hyung. I was just an as a child, and kept being an to you my whole life because I was just trying to be the poor kid wanting to prove you wrong. I didn’t really think you were ugly. And I don’t now. Maybe we’re not seeing the same things here, but I’ve thought you were beautiful from the first time I saw you. And you were just a dorky kid with too much baby fat back then. Now you’re so perfect it’s just unfair.”

Kyungsoo shook his head. “I don’t believe you.” And why should he? What reason had Jongin given him all these years to ever trust him?

“I’ve got nothing to lose now,” Jongin breathed. “We might both be dead today, or tomorrow, or in a week, who knows. At least if I die, and if you die, I want you to know I never hated you, and that I’m sorry for – everything. I just need you to know that, so maybe you won’t hate me in your next life.”

Kyungsoo sniffled. How could Jongin do this to him? All this time, and now he was saying it was all a lie? That Kyungsoo had wasted so much time pretending to hate Jongin so he could impress him, and that he’d been impressed all along? That maybe, somehow, they could have been allies, instead of rivals?

And rather than holding back from ever having a relationship, he could have been in a long-lasting, stable one with someone he had loved most of his life?

“I haven’t hated you for a second of my life, until right now.”

“Huh?”

“You stupid brat,” Kyungsoo choked, finally turning to look at Jongin, whose eyes were wide and entirely perplexed. “I confessed to you and you made me feel like , and I’ve spent the rest of my life feeling not good enough for you!” His breath hitched, words coming out in pieces as he tried to rein in sobs.

“What-”

“It wasn’t a joke!” he shouted, shuddering as a sob wracked through him. “But you made me feel like one! I liked you. I never got over it – or you!” He pulled his knees up and hid his face in them, tears streaming as he blubbered like an idiot. Because he had always refused to acknowledge it, but now it was hitting him full on that he hadn’t gotten over Kim Jongin, not even for a second. “I d-didn’t care that you were poor, and I wouldn’t care if you still were!”

Jongin didn’t speak, and Kyungsoo was just waiting for him to laugh and say he’d been joking, just like Kyungsoo had done all those years ago. But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t seem to do anything, and Kyungsoo couldn’t even look at him because he was a weeping mess and even if he tried Jongin would probably just be a blur through all his tears. He wasn’t sure why he was even crying; because he was selfish, he supposed, and he was upset by all the lost opportunities and all the happiness he’d missed out on. And because his life could have gone an entirely different way but now it was over instead and he couldn’t get any of it back. He couldn’t even be happy for the future, that he might have been able to spend with Jongin and make up for the past with the next twenty-five, forty, five years. Because he was who-knows-where, tied up and unable to get out of this situation. With ransom situations, the people usually asked for money and then killed their hostages anyway, so Kyungsoo knew he didn’t have much hope here.

He hated himself for taking back his confession. He should have just broke down into tears or something, or left and come back the next day so that Jongin could explain himself and apologize. There were so many things Kyungsoo should have done differently…

“Do you mean to say,” Jongin said very gravely. “That I worked my off to build the best company in Jongno for nothing? I could’ve just been an alcoholic all this time and stayed home and been lazy and you still would have loved me?”

Kyungsoo gave a strangled laugh. “Second best company,” he joked half-heartedly, still crying.

“I’ll accept that,” Jongin told him, and Kyungsoo could hear his voice the way it had sounded when they’d first met. It was much lower now, but this was the first time since that Jongin had spoken to him nicely, not spitefully. “Only if you go on a date with me, though.”

Kyungsoo sniffed, wishing he could wipe at his eyes and his nose and just his whole face. He felt so gross right now. Despite that, his heart was soaring with joy.

“Is that blackmail, Kim Jongin?”

“No. Lie down with me and watch the clouds or I’ll retract my offer. That is blackmail.”

Kyungsoo laughed genuinely, finally looking at Jongin. The other was smiling widely, eyes dancing with warmness. “How are we supposed to see the clouds?” He leaned his head back to stare up at where he assumed was a ceiling. Had Jongin forgotten where they were – wherever they were?

“Just trust me,” Jongin smiled, and he fell back, shifting his arms to be a bit more comfortable. Kyungsoo copied, wiggling over to line up beside Jongin. “See – look at that one, doesn’t it look like a turtle?”

Kyungsoo stared up into the darkness, and then started laughing as he remembered Jongin’s weird old habit when they’d been kids of making up clouds on cloudless days.

“I don’t see a turtle,” he said teasingly.

“Right there – look! It’s got its head sticking out of its shell! But it’s only got three legs, so it walks really slow. He’s slower than a – wait.”

“Were you about to say turtle?”

“No.” They burst into laughter. Somewhere along the lines, Kyungsoo’s laughs turned into crying again, because he hadn’t laughed since he was a child, not for real, not like this. Jongin leaned closer, pressing his head against Kyungsoo’s. “Don’t cry hyung. I’m sure he can get an amputee leg.” And then Kyungsoo was laugh-crying again, because Jongin had always made jokes when Kyungsoo was upset and he had missed Jongin far more than he had ever realized.

After a while of Jongin continuously pointing out (figuratively speaking; his hands were a bit inaccessible) clouds to Kyungsoo – and Kyungsoo occasionally pitching in – Jongin sighed and said, “I wish we could go back to being kids.”

“Me too,” Kyungsoo whispered. “Let’s just stay like this forever.”

And he wouldn’t mind if they did.

 

It wasn’t two days before Kyungsoo and Jongin were found in an abandoned warehouse and rescued. The men who had kidnapped them were arrested – they hadn’t been very smart, only planning on robbing a coffee shop after all, not having planned out the whole held-for-ransom deal – and with Kyungsoo and Jongin being as rich and popular as they were, they were top priority and the search that went out for them was massive.

When they were found, the place was searched for bombs and other set-ups, and then they were also searched, but everything was cleared quickly, and two policemen untied their ankles, helping them stand up before moving to their hands. Jongin’s hands were untied before Kyungsoo’s, and as soon as he was free he jumped forward, hands clasping Kyungsoo’s face desperately and pulling him into a long kiss. When Kyungsoo’s hands were freed, he threw his arms around Jongin’s waist and yanked him closer. The people around them were clearly confused, but neither of them cared, holding onto each other like the world was going to end.

It was Jongin who pulled away first, gasping. “I’ve been waiting for that for twenty-five years,” he breathed, and Kyungsoo leaned up to kiss him again softly. “It’s not a joke this time, right?”

“It never was,” Kyungsoo promised him.

 

 “What the hell did I miss?” 

A week after their café had been almost-but-then-not robbed, Chanyeol was watching with the rest of the staff as Do Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin sat on the same couch in the middle of the café, laughing together. His coworker and friend, Baekhyun, who hadn’t been there the day the kidnapping had gone down, was extremely confused by the situation, voicing the thoughts of all of them.

“Didn’t you hear about their kidnapping?” Chanyeol asked him, and Baekhyun nodded, still looking puzzled as Do Kyungsoo put his hand on Kim Jongin’s shoulder to hold himself up, the pair grinning cheerfully. “I guess it was a good thing for them…" 

 “Yeah, but look at them,” Baekhyun whispered loudly. “They’re all-” He waved his hands in their direction, flustered. “-gah and stuff. Look at the way they look at each other. They’re like a couple or something.”

“There’s rumours going around about that,” Chanyeol pointed out, and then their boss, Joonmyun, cut in.

"You never noticed?” he asked, looking secretly amused. “I’ve always seen it, from the moment I saw the both of them here. I’ve been waiting for them to figure themselves out.” He seemed very pleased that his apparent ship had become canon. Chanyeol didn’t know how he’d ever seen anything that wasn’t despising between the two, but Joonmyun was a wise old man sometimes. “They belonged to each other. They always have. And they will forever.”

 “Yeah, alright oh wise one.” Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “Go take a nap or something.”

But, even if he had no idea how, he knew Joonmyun was right. And he wasn’t complaining either way, because both Kyungsoo and Jongin had lightened up ever since they had gotten together, and maybe they still ordered the staff to do outrageous things, but it was somehow more enjoyable now. And besides, if they were happy, Chanyeol was happy for them.

(And he was happy that their happiness meant even bigger tips. So yeah, things were good.)

A/n: Really cheesy ㅠㅠ At least a little cheesy. Anyway, it's not my fault! Hope you all liked it~