The walls around him were vibrating, trembling under a cacophony of clanking, blaring, distant noises, softly humming under Sehun's ever so curious fingertips. He knew this place all-too well, and yet his fingers kept subtly lingering on the walls as he waited for the elevator to arrive and take him even deeper into the roots of the building. Venturing down into the buried parts of the facility was always like stepping into another world, one that lay neither in the past nor future, instead residing outside of their timeline. Above him, the world was adorned by clean steel, filtered air and technology covering every available surface, with walls measuring temperatures and pressure, with the mere building watching every single thing happening inside it.

Growing up in this place, Sehun had never known anything else - there was the controlled, safe haven of civilization, and then, later on, there was also the hostile, chaotic environment outside of it. These corridors, however, were something else entirely, just like the person he was visiting.

The air was stuffy down here, and Sehun could feel his skin growing clammy as he exited the elevator. With long, but calm steps he walked past doors, some open and some closed, seeing bright lab coats and shiny metal out of the corner of his vision. People were used to him by now, so he only received a couple fleeting looks.

There, at the second to last door on the left, was a workshop. Being located so deep into the building, it was considered one of the more shabby ones. Receiving such a room to work with would generally be considered criticism on your work, and it was obvious why.

Nobody ever accidentally stumbled upon these rooms, and Sehun was no exception.

That was the reason why he had never seen Jongin before she was assigned to him. She didn't leave her workshop all that often. Most days, she even slept in it, on the sofa crammed into a corner.

The door was usually left ajar, and today was no exception.

Sehun pushed the thick, noise-cancelling door open, not bothering to knock. Inside, the air was slightly more clean, but still stuffy, heated up by all the lamps scattered around the three workbenches, bathing every corner in a warm, yellowish light.

Long, wavy hair was all he could see of Jongin, who was hunched over something at her preferred workbench, in the left corner of the room.

For a moment, he just stood there, looking at the back of her head and the glimpse of shoulders he could see through the robotic parts inhabiting the room like wildly overgrown weeds. She wasn't humming, which meant that she was very focused, and he didn't want to rip her out of it.

Sehun didn't usually get the chance to just look at Jongin the way he did now, without her potentially catching him. Jongin had sharp senses in that regard. Seeing her work in such a calm, but precise manner felt oddly peaceful, washing away the clamor and stress from the hectic outside world, the pressure and dangers, the unpleasant commands transmitting into his helmet and the tension of hiding away from shapeless predators being close enough for him to smell them. Down here, all of this was forgotten. Down here, there was only Jongin, living in her own little world of blueprints and metals, of grime and sweat and flushed cheeks.

He saw her shoulders sag and then she leaned back in her chair. It was as good a time as any, and Sehun knocked on the door frame.

Jongin's cheeks really were flushed when she looked over her shoulder and at Sehun, in mild surprise.

"Oh. Hi," she said, curt but not unfriendly as she fully turned in her chair, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not that long."

Jongin hummed sceptically, but didn't push it as Sehun closed the door behind himself and crossed the room.

"You're late," she said instead, swiftly untying her hair to fix her high ponytail. She didn't make a show of it, didn't allow the hair to loosely cascade down to her waist, which it probably would. Sehun had never seen her with her hair open.

"I got caught up in the lab," he explained calmly, sitting on the edge of the low, slightly cushioned bench. There was no other chair in the room, and by now, he was comfortable enough to take a seat on the bench right away, without waiting to be told to. Jongin's eyes remained on the desk as she quickly gathered tools and a little tablet.

"Did you get hurt?"

Sehun lightly shook his head, and when he realized that Jongin wouldn't see that, he quietly negated the question.

Jongin bustled around the bench, efficiently setting things up and gesturing for him to lie down, which he did without complaint. His view on the ceiling was blocked by the creamy white control panel Jongin tugged into place. Sehun would much rather watch Jongin but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable, so he stared right ahead before closing his eyes, focusing on the distant sounds of machinery, and feeling the air shift as Jongin moved around. Eventually, the chair creaked and one of the lights above him was switched on.

"I received your reports, and there were no errors. Anything you want me to check up on?" Jongin asked to his right. Sehun had never worked with a mechanic who didn't fully trust the reports, but Jongin had made it very clear from the start that she wanted him to personally tell her about his experiences with her pieces, claiming that the systems didn't pick up on everything.

"My right arm?" Sehun asked rather than demanded, listening to the soft, tell-tale sounds of a scan running. "It works fine, but it feels just a tad bit too loose. I probably lost weight or something."

Jongin hummed.

"Sure. Let's have a look."

While she retrieved a piece from the box that had been delivered to her workshop, as per usual, Sehun sat up to rid himself of his shirt. He wasn't usually self-conscious about his body, but when it came to Jongin, with her shiny brown eyes and her attentive gaze, it was hard not to be. Jongin was very nonchalant about or skin contact though, keeping things clean and professional between them. It was almost disappointing but Sehun wasn't unreasonable, and the fact that he could undress without feeling uncomfortable was worth more than potentially impressing Jongin.

Sometimes, she seemed so nonchalant that Sehun wondered whether she was interested in men at all (or in anyone, for that matter), or whether he was simply not her type at all. He wouldn't be surprised if he was out of her league, with her being a genius, quick-witted, young mechanic - but something about Jongin didn't give off the vibe that she felt superior to him.

He tried to chase away the unnecessary, slightly pathetic thoughts while cold metal embraced his right, upper arm.

"Ah, you're right," Jongin mumbled in surprise, more to herself than to Sehun. "Why is it so loose?"

Sehun felt vaguely embarrassed and refused to crane his head to watch Jongin take measurements of his arm.

"I didn't have a lot of time to exercise lately," he admitted, and Jongin chuckled.

"Nonsense, your measurements barely changed," she hummed, turning to the metal piece with furrowed brows. Sehun tried his absolute best to keep his eyes on her face, despite her cleavage being right there , a smudge of dirt on her right - Sehun closed his eyes again, silently cursing the fact that Jongin always worked in sleeveless, skin-tight tops. At this point, he didn't even know whether the warmth in his stomach stemmed from lust or fondness. Probably both. Together, it just made for a slightly painful tug of yearning he couldn't squash, no matter what he did. She was right there, being a gamine, untouchable genius, and Sehun really was the biggest fool for his assigned mechanic, of all people.

"You're right, something is too loose about this. I guess the bolt reacted badly to the pressure... let's try a different material."

She took the part of his armor, but before she moved to her workbench, she placed a small jar next to Sehun, who sat up with a confused expression.

"For the bruise on your lower arm," Jongin stated, eyes already back on her shelf, where she was looking for an appropriate part. "You need to be more careful out there."

"It's just a bruise," Sehun shrugged even as he screwed open the top to dip a finger into the greenish cream.

"Still," Jongin said, and apparently, this explanation was flimsy even to her own ears, so she added, " just a bruise can quickly turn to an implant with that kind of attitude."

Sehun couldn't help rolling his eyes, but he applied the cream, anyway.

"If the parts are responsible for it, you need to tell me," Jongin began, but Sehun was quick to deny it.

"It wasn't the armor's fault. I was just careless."

There was something akin to a soft sigh coming from Jongin, but then she was already back at his side, fitting the blue piece of metal around his arm, and genuine focus took over menial, social interactions. Sehun knew better than to distract her - after all, his life depended on her doing a good job. And he had never in his life worn a more competent armor than the one made by Jongin.

"Alright," Jongin whispered to herself, snapping something into place, and the memory foam made for a snug, but comfortable feeling against his skin. "Better, right?"

"Yeah," Sehun agreed, lightly moving his arm around to demonstrate the fit. Jongin followed the movement, palm resting on the metal, feeling for the movement beneath it. Sehun wished her touch would linger on his skin like that, as well.

"It's good that you told me this," Jongin said matter-of-factly, putting Sehun's wistful thoughts to an end. "Others might have dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, but a bad fit alone can have disastrous results, not to mention the fact that there was a material giving way."

Sehun only nodded, and then Jongin was looking at him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a small smile.

"Good job, as always."

Sehun ignored his beating heart and tried to mask the heat rising up his face by averting his gaze with a soft huff.

"You are the one doing the work," he said, and he meant it.

"And you're the one working with me and enabling me," Jongin countered without missing a beat. "You're also the one doing the dirty work up there," she added, voice growing a little more somber.

Sehun hated that look on her, and spoke before his brain could catch up.

"I wouldn't be able to do it without you."

If anyone else had said it, it would have sounded like a polite compliment, but the way Sehun had said it made it sound way too heavy, and he regretted it immediately.

It was Jongin's time to huff and smile.

"You did just fine without me, you liar," she said jokingly, nudging the armor and getting to her feet. Sehun plugged the armor off, chasing the atmosphere he himself had put up, chasing after the opportunity to say something that had been on his mind for a while-

"Jongin?"

"Hm?" she asked, mildly curious as she held out her hand. For a moment, Sehun was confused, but then he handed her the fixed part, having lost momentum already.

"Do you want to," he began, slowly trailing off under Jongin's attentive gaze as she stood there, patiently waiting for him to finish.

He should just say it. Get it over with, get it out of his system.

"Uhm-"

He cleared his throat, his lips... and lowered his eyes to aimlessly rest on the piece of armor in her hand.

"The next check-up. Do you want to do it in a week or...?"

Jongin blinked, shrugged, and knelt down to stash the armor back into the box.

"Sure, sounds good. You can always pop in earlier if anything is off."

Sehun was already back to his feet, quickly buttoning up his shirt.

"I will. See you around," he said curtly, cringing at the useless phrase. He never saw Jongin around, for that would entail her leaving the workshop and meandering around on the surface levels of the facility, and him doing the same. They only saw each other when Sehun willingly sought her out or during very rare, scheduled training sessions. It was small and stupid, and yet it echoed around his head during his entire way back to his quarters, and for the better part of his session at the gym. After that, he began to mentally beat himself up for the embarrassing stunt prior to that, when he had meant to ask her out to dinner.

Sehun sighed, pushing the delightfully cool water bottle against his own cheek.

He was such a mess when it came to Jongin.

Jongin could still remember wearing a suit back when she’d first met Sehun. It wasn't like she hated skirts and dresses per se, but when the higher ups had requested her presence in the training rooms, she'd chosen her favourite suit without hesitation. Getting respected as a mechanic was already hard enough, and Jongin was young, and blessed with curves that invited people to ualize her - and skirts did imply a certain vulnerability, no matter the hips they were sitting on.
So no, as rare the opportunity was, Jongin would not show up in a skirt for such an occasion, showcasing skin when facing new, potential co-workers. Because that was what this had been about. Jongin had been without a charge for a while back then, and it had only been a matter of time for them to delegate someone else to her. Truth to be told, Jongin was relieved when her charge had been moved to another mechanic. He'd been a . Then again, most soldiers were. It wasn't that she didn't understand them at all, considering what their job entailed, but that didn't mean that she was ready to sign up for the additional burden of working together with jerk.

So that day, Jongin had shown up in her black, professional-looking suit with simple, but high wedge heels and her usually unruly hair pinned into an orderly bun for once. The fellow mechanics in the observation room had thrown occasional glances her way when they felt she wasn't looking, but hardly anyone had really acknowledged her presence, which was to be expected. Jongin wasn't very out-going, and she suspected not being very popular, either.

While the soldiers had shuffled into the training room, the mechanics had been standing at the window overseeing them. They'd been informed that these soldiers were in need of individual supervision. Jongin had quickly counted five of them and nine mechanics. The mechanics showing up meant that they had free spots or were willing to take on more charges. She'd tried her best to keep a straight face even though she felt like wincing upon that realization. With only five soldiers and a demand this high, she couldn't afford being picky. Unlike the others, Jongin had to find a charge among them, it was an unspoken demand.

Well, she'd thought to herself as her fingers restlessly tapped on the window frame, this time she was going to choose character over skill, for once .
It somewhat went against her work ethic, but she was tired of catering to idiots, so she'd pick the person who seemed the easiest to get along with. That’s what she’d told herself back then.

If she even got a choice, that is.

The soldiers had all turned out to be excellent and above average, but one of them had caught Jongin's eye right away. He hadn't been the tallest, or the most well-built one, and Jongin hadn’t even been able to see his face due to him wearing a helmet. And yet she'd been intrigued right away. It had been something about his straight, perfect posture, something about the way he’d moved and held himself that had stuck out to her despite him being almost inconspicuous otherwise.

As soon as they had started their training, however, it became apparent that Jongin's intuition had been right - soldier 04 had deadly aim and moved with sharp precision, hitting his targets without making a show of it. All of them had worn the full-bodied armor necessary to protect them from the secretions exuded by the wild life, and 04's armor had been mostly skin-tight, with his shoulders, chest piece and lower arms being exceptions. A rather balanced choice, as far as Jongin could tell. The way he’d moved was so fundamentally different from the others, however, that Jongin thought he could actually pull off an even more streamlined armor. An armor she would be able to make.

"I want 04," she’d said, without even having looked into his file, the tablet lying untouched on a table beside her.

Someone had complained about having claimed him first, but the supervisor only asked Jongin if she was up to the task.

"04 is at the front lines - exploration support, containment, and high risk missions," they’d said.

Jongin hadn’t been discouraged upon hearing that. If anything, it had spurred her on further. She had cursed herself for abandoning her resolve on choosing people for their character, but the damage had already been done. The supervisor had sent her the full records and arranged a first meeting between them. While Jongin had watched her new charge battle his fellow soldiers in hand to hand combat, she silently prayed that he wasn't a completely terrible person. Just someone she could work with would be nice.

When the training was over and 04 pulled off his helmet, ruffling a hand through sweaty, blonde hair, there had been a minor ruckus. People had claimed that if they had known this was Oh Sehun, they would have also volunteered, and the woman who had already asked for him earlier had joined their protests, claiming that it wasn't fair Jongin got to work with him.

Mildly confused, Jongin had scanned the record in her hands. The name Oh Sehun vaguely rang a bell, but she hadn't thought anything into it.

She’d remembered the context of having heard his name much later, when she was back in her room, carefully reading his full record.

He had no implants. None at all.

Heck, even Jongin, who hardly ever left her workshop, had a few, small ones - a tiny, rhomb-shaped plate of metal on her left, lower arm where she had been careless with the soldering rod once, and two other, small implants on her back. Scars were even more unsightly than metal, not to mention that they posed a serious health threat, and Jongin was nothing but practical - she considered her metal implants an enhancement instead of a deformation.
Sure, hardly anyone ever saw it like that, with being covered and gradually suffocated under metal being a deeply rooted fear of humanity. Jongin would never exempt herself from that, but she wasn't going to go through an identity crisis over a few patches of metal. Besides, hardly anyone was free of them. And if one was a soldier, battling the wild, largely unexplored species that had begun to appear on their planet decades ago, they were destined to wear implants. Every patch of skin that got in contact with them was considered contaminated, but with extensive cleaning using newly developed chemicals, the skin would recover. As soon as the secretions touched an open wound, mucosa or scar, however, the area had to be cut out, sealed off with a metal prosthetic.

Naturally, soldiers were full of those. By the time of their fifth mission, they usually wore at least one implant somewhere.

Oh Sehun had been on active duty for three years when Jongin was assigned to him and had no implants registered. Not even a single one. He’d been something akin to an idol among soldiers and civilians alike, and somehow, Jongin had been put in charge of him.

She hadn't really seen his face during their first encounter, but the photo on top of his resume made him look strict and stoic. Maybe a little mousy, but in a nice way, with a small nose and small, but plump lips, and very straight, dark brows. Just from the picture alone, Jongin got the vibes that she was in for a tense work relationship.

In a way, she’d been right about that.

With a long, wistful sigh, Jongin buried her head on her arms, ignoring the way a part was digging into her forearm. Now that she'd officially given up on getting work done, the soothing soundscape of her workshop slipped back into focus, enveloping her like a comfortable, woolen blanket.

She was such an idiot.

She shouldn't have touched Sehun so awkwardly earlier. He hadn't even stayed around for the actual check-up. How could she allow her desperation to shine through like that? Pathetic.

He probably thought she was some cheap, desperate woman, after all. And technically, he had all the right to judge her. Jongin had been putting up such a hard front during their first few meetings, driven by scepticism and wariness. For all her fear of being stuck with a jerk, she'd been a bit of one herself. Sehun, however, had always handled everything with utmost patience, his stoic expression never betraying the annoyance he must have felt. It had lasted until that one embarrassing incident where Jongin had manually fitted his armor, thoughtlessly asking whether it was tight enough.

"The armor, I mean," she had added awkwardly, realizing her mistake, and out of sheer self-defense, she added, "don't you ing dare make a corny joke now."

Back then, Sehun had looked at her in genuine confusion for a good three seconds, before he blinked, averted his eyes, and lightly shook his head.

"Of course not," he mumbled, even more quiet than usual, and Jongin stared at him in suspicion before she realized that the other was... flustered. Jongin was so used to lewd jokes and dirty remarks by her previous charges that she was completely, utterly stumped. She only knew how to handle brash people, and a reply so unguarded and genuine came as a total surprise to her back then. Little did she know that this encounter would kick off a change between them.

Nowadays, Jongin considered them to be friends - or at least on friendly terms. Jongin stopped being so terribly guarded, while Sehun became a little more talkative, showing that there was more to him than a stoic face and a flawless body.

This, however, caused an entirely different problem to arise.

Jongin had been able to properly keep herself in check while taking Sehun's measurements back then. The expanse of toned, milky white and unblemished skin would have been attractive to just about anyone, she’d told herself. Feeling nervous and fluttery at the sight of Sehun's bare skin was normal. It didn't really say anything about anything, that's what she’d told herself. When she realized, however, that Sehun was also a sweet, albeit quiet person, that he was a gentleman with a very introspective mind... it all went down the drain.

And this was the story that led up to Jongin sighing to herself instead of working as she stared at nothing in particular, her cheek mashed against her arm.

Why couldn't she just be normal around Sehun? Maybe, if she would act less like an awkward, love-sick little girl, just maybe he'd start seeing her as a woman.

With a small groan, she shifted to hide her face in her arms.

This was a terrible approach.
Maybe this, maybe that. How about getting her hormones in check so she could lead a successful work relationship? Sehun was easily one of the capital's best soldiers, and that put a lot of pressure on him, and, in turn, on Jongin as well.

Sure, Jongin cared about her reputation, but first and foremost, she cared about her charge being protected, no matter how much of a they were. With Sehun, she felt almost desperate to deliver the absolute best armor possible. A part of her wanted to impress him, but she also deeply cared about his safety because he was such a warm-hearted person. He should be able to fully trust his mechanic, not feel discomfort because of her potentially being interested in him. Just thinking of it that way was mildly scandalous to Jongin, who had always lived for her work.

She vowed to keep her fingers to herself next time. Sure, it had been necessary earlier but she could at least stop enjoying it the way she had.

She couldn't help snorting over how laughable that sounded even in her head.

This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous.

And she wasn't usually like this. She really wasn't.

Just for Sehun.

Just for Sehun, she became such a mess.

Sehun felt slightly woozy, a woolen kind of sleepiness clinging to his skin, flushing his cheeks and making it just a tad bit harder to think straight. The painkillers should wear off soon, and while he'd been advised to lie down, he wanted to see Jongin first. He didn't have much time, after all.

It was nearing midnight, but the further down he got, the less it mattered. Jongin didn't usually go to sleep early, so the chances that she was still awake were high.

The door was closed, but the lamp above it suggested that the lights were still on.

Sehun swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat and knocked on the door. He counted to five in his head, then to ten, chanting the numbers loud and clear as to distract himself from the lingering nervousness. Maybe she'd fallen asleep over her blue prints again.

He tried it one more time, knocking a little harder, and when he was about to give up and leave, the door opened, showing a tousled and slightly bewildered-looking Jongin.

Upon seeing him, her expression morphed into one of concern immediately.

"Sehun? Did something happen?" she asked, pulling the door open wider, to get a better look at him. "Nobody announced you, sorry- come in."

She sounded a little frazzled, and Sehun quietly closed the door behind him, feeling the guilt creeping back up.

"I'm sorry. Were you asleep?"

"No, just working. What's up? You were out on a mission today, weren't you?"

Sehun tried not to cringe as he took a seat on the bench while Jongin slipped into the chair next to him.

"I was," he agreed, pushing aside the numbness still lingering on his mind like dust. "About that... I'm sorry, but I broke something."

"You broke something," Jongin echoed, sounding alarmed, as she scanned him.

"A piece of armor," Sehun quickly added. "It'll be sent to you within the next few hours, I guess, after investigations are over."

"What do you mean, after investigations are over? I should be the one investigating it," Jongin cut him off, obviously torn between worry and prideful anger now. "Did it malfunction?"

"No, not at all! I just used it to block an attack by an unknown species, and it turned out to be nothing like the ones we fought before," Sehun explained patiently, wringing his hands in his lap. “The left forearm piece splintered."

Jongin stared at him, wide-eyed and shell-shocked.

"What?" she eventually breathed out, sharp and almost accusing. Sehun's gaze dropped to his lap, and he took a deep breath.

"I shouldn't have done it, it just happened in the spur of the moment-"

The words got stuck in his throat when Jongin's smaller, calloused hands appeared in his vision, roughly tugging at his arm and pulling up the sleeve to reveal bandages.

"Oh no," Jongin whispered, fingers carefully tracing over the hard patch of metal hidden beneath the white gauze. Sehun swallowed.

"You're probably mad at me, but I was gonna ask if you'd be willing to design a cool patch for me? Judging by how stylish my armor looks, I figured I'd ask you."

He was rambling now, but he couldn't see Jongin's face from where she was staring at the bandages, and it only added to the guilt swirling in his stomach.

"I would have waited, but they told me that the permanent patch should be put on this as soon as possible. If you don't have time though, that's fine-"

He cut himself off when Jongin suddenly lowered her head even further, shoulders bunching up and curling in on herself until her forehead just barely touched the bandages.

"...Jongin?" Sehun asked carefully, not moving an inch, unsure of what was going on.

She didn't say anything for a few, long seconds, maybe the longest of his life.

It felt like the perfect inversion of being at the front lines where every second flew by, ran him over, demanding a dozen decisions to be taken and acted on. With Jongin, some seconds could stretch on forever, giving him time to actually feel being alive.

A tiny sob was heard, and the tightened shoulders started to shake just a little. Was she crying?

When she spoke up, her voice was muffled and uneven, jumping in volume and pitch in a failed attempt to stay steady.

"I'm sorry."

Hot tears wet the bandages and his skin, Sehun could feel it.

"I'm so, so, sorry."

Placing his free hand on her shoulder was an act of instinct - Sehun had witnessed many breakdowns already, and he was considered good company when it came to calming people down.

This time, though, he felt utterly useless, comically frozen over seeing Jongin, of all people, cry. Jongin, who was strong and untouchable, and never seemed to get shaken over anything at all.

"I messed up and now you're getting an implant," Jongin half-whispered, her flimsy facade crumbling with every syllable. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry-"

"It's not a big deal," Sehun intervened as gently as he could, fingers helplessly tightening around her shoulder, itching to run up and cradle her neck. "It's just a flesh wound. Won't affect anything at all. Hey, Jongin."

Instead of looking up, Jongin only shook her head, holding on tighter.

"Your skin was completely clean, and I ruined it-"

"I don't care about that, really. It was just a matter of time until I got my first scratch."

"You trusted me and I messed up-"

"Jongin," he cut her off firmly, finally pulling his arm free to grab her upper arms and gentle make her face him. At the sight of her red eyes and the tears smeared across her cheeks, he almost faltered completely, but this wasn't about his silly feelings. This was about her.

"I am a soldier fighting unidentified life forms whose touch could kill me," he said slowly, and Jongin sniffled, but she didn't try to cut him off.

"This is just a scratch. We were facing a new species, and it almost got my friend, so I intervened and blocked the attack. Because your armor was so strong, I managed to get out of there with just a scratch."

Jongin looked like she was about to say something, but this time, Sehun was faster.

"Yes, it splintered under the force, but others were much less lucky, and I was only able to protect them because of you. This threat was unknown, and no matter how much of a genius you are, you could not have predicted this. Nobody could have."

A bit of the tension bled out of Jongin's shoulders, but she still looked miserable as her wet gaze flickered down to the bandages.

"It's not your fault," Sehun repeated, slowly and reassured.

Jongin bit her lip, but didn't say anything, neither agreeing nor protesting. While watching her internal struggle, Sehun became hyper aware of the way he was touching her, awkwardly allowing his palms to run down her arms and let go. To his surprise, Jongin grabbed his hands, holding them both in her lap.

"It won't happen again," she said quietly, and then met his gaze, still looking rueful. "Promise. I'll- I'll work harder now. Promise."

Sehun exhaled, a subtle sigh to mask his disappointment.

"You've always done your best, I know that. Don't let this get to you. Have some pride in your creations. I came here expecting a scolding, not you doubting your work," he said tentatively, cautiously trying to lift the mood a little. To his relief, Jongin huffed out a laugh, wiping her eyes with one hand.

"Stop being so stupidly nice about this," she snapped weakly, but she was smiling. "There. Enough scolding?"

"You're stingy today, but fine," Sehun joked, gaze flitting down to their intertwined hands. He couldn't help it. His heart was beating so fast, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her closer, but Jongin was vulnerable right now - he'd be an to make a move on her now.

"I'm always stingy, and so are you," Jongin hummed, thumb rubbing over the edge of his bandages almost absently.

"Does that still count as a scolding?" Sehun asked, his own thumb running over Jongin's skin, over a tiny bruise.

"Just an assessment," Jongin hummed lightly.

"You're generous where it counts," Sehun said lightly, and immediately regretted it, because it sounded like a cheap innuendo.

Instead of closing off and getting defensive like Jongin used to when they first met up, she only snorted quietly, not even pulling her hands out of his.

"So you're that type of guy, after all," she teased softly, and Sehun felt like he was going to burst from nervousness, fondness, but also the knowledge that Jongin felt safe enough to joke around with him like that.

"I didn't mean it like that," he still said, and Jongin chuckled.

"I know. Not like I'd have complained if you did mean it like that."

Confused and unsure, Sehun sought her gaze, and Jongin chewed on her lips as if she'd regretted her words.

"I mean, cause it's not a lie. That I'm a little curvy. You know..." she trailed off, eventually breaking into a little groan.

"God, I'm so embarrassing, sorry."

"I'm more embarrassing than you, don't worry," Sehun commented, observing the way an unruly strand of hair trailed down the side of her face.

"There's nothing even remotely embarrassing about you, who are you trying to fool here?" Jongin winced in exasperation.

"It's embarrassing how much I like you."

And it had slipped. Just like that, it had slipped through the moment he felt a little too comfortable, coming out corny more than anything. What an absolute idiot he was.

Jongin stared at him with something akin to cautious disbelief swimming in her eyes, and Sehun wanted to turn back time. He'd said it though, and now Jongin was staring at him as if she doubted his very existence.

"Are you messing with me right now? Because I swear to god, it's not funny-"

Awkwardly, Sehun pulled his hands free.

"I'm not! I just- sorry, I shouldn't have said this right now," he rambled, clearing his throat. "Or ever, for that matter. I'm sorry. I should just- go."

He'd said enough today - coming here right after a battle had been a terrible mistake, and had caused him to mess things up even further.

He got to his feet, and Jongin followed suit immediately, looking panicked.

"No, wait! I like you, too!" she burst out, a tentative grip on his upper arm whispering for him to stay. Sehun wouldn't have left either way, rooted to the spot by her words alone.

"You do?" he asked, confused more than anything, and Jongin slapped his arm with a little too much force.

"Don't look so surprised," she said accusingly, the previous incident finally forgotten. "As if it hadn't been completely obvious-"

Sehun finally, finally felt like he was allowed to do what he’d been yearning for since Jongin had first chuckled over some silly mistake Sehun had made during his initial fitting. Without hesitation, he pulled her into a tight hug, shutting her up for good. He couldn't remember the last time he had hugged someone who made his heart beat faster, who smelled so intoxicating, and Jongin seemed to tense up in his hold, but held on to him just as tightly.

He felt a fleeting brush of lips against his neck, and took it as a permission to carefully cradle the back of her head and pull her into a soft, careful kiss, aiming to finally express himself in actions over words. It seemed like they were both equally nervous and excited, and it translated to their lips, leading to hitched breaths between light, shy and eager touches, and Sehun wanted to drown in the feeling of Jongin's lips against his, which were every bit as plush and sensual as they looked, despite their kiss being almost innocent.

Maybe they were both a little more similar than he thought they'd be.

Maybe they were both a bit of a mess when it came to each other.

Sehun found the thought strangely honouring.

Of all the people trained to keep humanity safe, soldiers had always harboured a certain appeal towards the masses, due to their visibility. One of the public's favourites was soldier 004, also known as Oh Sehun. It was the fact that he was both capable and nice to look at that made him appealing to the public, and not even his distant, cold attitude managed to deter people.
Oh Sehun was a private person, but word had leaked that even after six years of active duty, he wore nothing more but a tiny metal implant on his lower arm, depicting a ring made of elegant swirls. Upon being pestered about its story again and again, the young man eventually caved in and called it a signature. A signature made of metal, made by the person dearest to his heart.