The sight of the cashmere-clad boy is out of place in the rundown ghost-town he finds himself in, sunflower yellow suitcase being pulled behind him. However, the appearance of the shambled state the city is in isn’t enough to deter him off his course. He steps over various piles of rubble and trash - minding the dead rat a few feet away from him in case it just so happened to come back to life, bite him, and proceed to give him rabies. Howls of laughter can be heard a few alleys away from him. The sound of glass shattering erupts from the window of the building just down the street - a body being forcefully thrown through the display. Hoots and hollers grow closer and Jeongin can’t help but to suddenly find comfort in hiding in his vibrantly pink sweater that suddenly stands out too much compared to the rubble that surrounds him.

Rocks crack under shoes and Jeongin has to refrain from pulling his sweater up and over his ears. A heavy weight is suddenly placed around Jeongin’s shoulders as the toxic smell of alcohol practically burns off his nose hairs. He grimaces, body going stiff before he slowly turns his head to touch noses with the drunken - presumably homeless - man that clings to him as if his very life depended on it. He slowly turns his head back, facing forward once more as he tries to break loose of the near bone-crushing weight of the strongly-odored man and continue to press on down the street. However, it’s proven difficult when the plastered man suddenly falls unconscious on Jeongin’s shoulder, full weight now nearly dragging the teenage boy to the ground. Using what little strength he had in the thin arm that wasn’t lugging his suitcase behind him, he finally manages to free himself from the drunken man’s grasp. The now supportless man topples to the ground, head smacking against the beyond destroyed remains of a newspaper and seemingly sobering up some. The man mumbles something Jeongin can’t quite understand, though he hopes that it’s the name of his wife and not some head-strong e that may or may not be in one of the many alleys - waiting to pounce on the young boy in desperation for any money they could get their hands on.

Jeongin takes notice of the large sign plastered onto the brick wall next to him. Welcome to Swellville! Where the sun always shines and you get every penny out of your dime! His eyebrows furrow, though they quickly relax as he realizes it’s just the slogan for the cafe he is passing by - or at least, what remains of the cafe, as only two of the four walls remained completely intact. He stops to marvel at the glass door that is somehow still standing, reading the hand painted letters, Swellville Cafe. The loud laughter from the alley is now near-deafening as Jeongin passes by it - wishing his earbuds were in his ears rather than in his suitcase. He rounds the corner, not sure where his feet were taking him, though not particularly caring as long as they took him from the so-called “Sanctuary” he used to call home.

As he turns the corner, he can’t help but to stop and look at the guy that had been previously thrown out of the display window, taking note of how he appeared to be unconscious and nearly wetting himself as he hears a gunshot go off. Upon resuming his walk, Jeongin is met with a pleasant surprise as he gets smacked in the forehead with a baseball bat. Before he knows it, he’s falling to the ground unconscious.

 

≛Renegade≛

 

When Jeongin regains consciousness, he’s quick to discover that his hands are bound behind his back and rope tightly clings to his stomach, holding him in place on a metal folding chair. His head throbs with a splitting headache and it takes all the strength within him to not let out a whimper of pain. He recalls getting smacked in the head with a wooden baseball bat among everything else which remains a blur. Try as he might, he can’t break free of his restraints no matter how hard he struggles. The flick of a light switch is enough to make him momentarily stop wriggling; a singular panel-light flickering on in the far corner of the room.

A figure approaches him, taking place in the chair that sat in front of him that he had yet to notice. The singular light in the dark room highlights the short brunette hair of the person in front of him and he feels eyes on him as if he’s the main suspect of a criminal investigation. The person’s shadow casts a dark wall over Jeongin’s vision and Jeongin finds himself having to squint just to barely make out the broad-shouldered silhouette in front of him. A rumble comes from their throat before they spit onto the floor, locking eyes with Jeongin in the dark shortly after. From across the room, a page of newspaper flitters down from the window - allowing sunlight to seep into what appears to be a run-down gas station.

“Since that angry ‘un can’t seem to commit to nothin’, guess I’ll be the one interogatin’ yous today. Got that?” The male speaks with a heavy accent, enunciating certain words in a way that Jeongin finds awkward to listen to, “Le’s start of simple, shall we?”

Though he says it like it’s a question, Jeongin doesn’t have enough time to reply before the male speaks once more, barraging him with questions. “Who’s you? Where yous from? How’d you get ‘ere? Tha’s all we ‘anna know, ya’know? Gotta make sure yous ain’t some rogue soldier like them fellas from a few weeks ‘go.”

He leans against the back of the chair he’d been straddling, watching Jeongin with a bored stare that expressed how much he didn’t want to be there. Jeongin stares back, too uncomfortable with the situation to answer and more than unwilling to tell a random stranger - whom of which he assumed kidnapped him - any and all personal information. The brunette sighs, knitting his eyebrows before spitting once more.

“‘Kay, I’ll be frank with yous. I don’t give a heehaw where yous from or whos you are. Names ain’t definitive, whoever you was then ain’t who you is now. Yous walked into this ‘ere place ‘n now this place ‘ere’ll clean what’s left of ya’ an’ yous won't know what hit ya’. Yous who you say you is an’ if you ain’t know, guess yous a no ‘un.” The brunette stands from his chair, walking over to Jeongin and forcefully yanking at the collar of his sweater which was now noticeably dirtier compared to when he first stepped foot into the city.

A hum seeps from the male’s throat, though it sounds more like a gruff growl. “Ain’t got one on yous feet or shoulders. Seems like yous safe.”

The male trails off and Jeongin assumes it to be pointless to even ask what he’s talking about as he’s too occupied with trying to fix Jeongin’s sweater collar - which he overstretched. At the mentioning of his feet, Jeongin is suddenly aware that he is no longer wearing the timberlands he once wore, rather both his shoes and socks are missing. He takes notice of his suitcase across the room, wide open and contents strewn across the floor. He sighs, looking to the brunette as he speaks once more.

“Any’ays, yous ain’t got them codes them fellas got, so I’ll do yous a solid, m’kay?” The brunette makes his way to the beyond-messy register station, yanking open a drawer before returning with a Swiss Army Knife in hand. “I ain’t ever was the best at untyin’ things. Got clumsy han’s I guess. Sorry if I knick yous, ain’t on purpose, I swear on me ma.”

Jeongin’s heart practically lunges into his throat as he feels the cold blade of the knife caress his flesh before it begins sawing at the rope that binds his wrists. Soon, the rope around his wrists falls to the floor, giving Jeongin the mobility in his arms back. It takes a few minutes, however, the rope digging into his stomach soon follows suit and falls loosely into his lap. Jeongin lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“C’mon kid, I’ll show yous ‘round.” the brunette gestures for Jeongin to follow him, pushing open the glass door and nearly blinding Jeongin with the sun that poured in that had been previously blocked out by newspapers.

The cold linoleum tickles Jeongin’s toes as he stands from the chair - legs like jello as he hesitates to follow the male outside. He scans the room for his timberlands but is cut short when the male whistles at him as if he were a dog. Upon exiting, Jeongin confirms he was indeed in a rundown gas station; however, the wall of used tires and hubcaps is enough to make him question his surroundings once more. Sitting on a picnic table near the wall of car parts was a raven-haired male, staring intently at what appeared to be another male - laying bare chest across the length of the picnic table. A door to the large building Jeongin had yet to notice looming over the gas station opens, a silver-haired male stepping out and squinting under the sun - youthful features contrasting with his hair color.

The silver-haired male saunters over to a cooler, pulling out a can of what Jeongin hopes to be soda before cracking the top open and taking a long, silent swig. The brunette that had previously been in front of Jeongin steps into line with him, angling his neck in a way where he could see Jeongin’s eyes without having to squint from the bright sun.

“So, I knows I said I ain’t care who you was ‘n ‘erythin, but who’re yous?” The brunette’s voice is tired as he speaks, as if the sun sipped every ounce of energy from his veins and left him to sit out like a raisin.

Jeongin doesn’t answer, rather, he doesn’t have an answer so he just stares at the brunette with a blank expression plastered onto his face. The brunette sighs, a breathy laugh escaping him.

“So I’m guessin’ you don’t know who you is. Well, tha’s fine. We’ll jus’ call ya’ “Three” from now on. I ain’t the best at comin’ up with names so I’ll jus’ call yous my favorite number. Then I won’t forget. Let’us know is yous figure out yous name anytime soon. Shepard pro’lly hit ya’ too hard with that there bat o’ his.” Once again, the brunette trails off before he speaks once more - index finger extended towards the male sitting at the picnic table. “That there is “Han”. Tha’s the only name he’s ever giv’n us. Guess you could say he’s the medic ‘round here, though he probably couldn’t care less if a stranger came up to ‘im with a missin’ foot.”

His finger travels to the male with the drink, silver head of hair pressed against the dirty, white brick of the gas station as he leans against it. “We don’ know anythin’ ‘bout ‘im really. Jus’ call’em “Chan”. Guess yous could say he’s the leader ‘round these parts. If yous wanna know what “these parts” is, don’t ask us. We know jus’ ‘bout as much ‘bout this place as yous do. Yous ask them civilian folk outside these ‘ere walls ‘n yous gonna get the same ‘ol response. Swellville. We ‘ere call it “the District” though. Don’t got a reason really, jus’ like how it sounds.”

Three nods his head in the direction of the brunette male that had forced his company on him, quirking an eyebrow. The brunette looks surprised at first, though he quickly covers it up with a chuckle.

“Yous a funny ‘un, you wanna know my name? Why that there is gotta be the funniest darned thing I ever did ‘ear. Yous know them no ‘uns I was talkin’ ‘bout before? I’m one thems. I ain’t know my name, haven’t since things went to .” He extends his arm, sweeping it out in front of him and managing to point at the other men in the process. “Thems call me “No Body”. Guess I ain’t important ‘nuff for names like the rest of thems. Not like I care though, never did in the first place.”

The asphalt of the parking lot begins to feel hot against Three’s bare feet, causing him to awkwardly and uncomfortably shuffle his feet. No Body quirks a confused brow at him before kicking over a plastic bag that had conveniently blown over from the picnic table.

“Won’t burn as much if yous got sum’in under them there toes of ‘yers.” While his words are directed at Three, he’s actively staring off into space - near zoning out.

Though hesitant, Three steps onto the bag, feeling it crinkle under his toes and stick almost immediately due to sweat. His eyes trail to Chan, whom of which was taking a long drink from the aluminium can he had previously opened. Chan lowers the can from his lips, wiping the remnants of his drink from his mouth before he turns his head, bored gaze meeting Three’s. He stares at him - silent. His brows knit for a second before he quirks one at Three, the simple gesture being enough to make Three want to hide in his sweater once more. The male seemingly snorts, though Three can’t hear him due to the distance between them, he can see his lip upturn on one side as if he was mocking him - laughing at him.

Three grabs at No Body’s shirt sleeve, giving it a gentle tug before nodding in the direction of Chan. No Body hums in response, turning to follow Three’s gaze.

“Oh, Chan? Yeah, he was the first ‘n ‘ere. After ‘im, Songbird.” He stops to point at the bare chested male lying across the length of the picnic table. “After ‘im? That there boy, the foreign one - ‘eryun calls ‘im Lix… Real names, er, what was it now? Felix? I ‘unno, never was the best with names, ya’know?”

Three’s eyes trail No Body’s extended index finger, watching as an amber-haired boy struggled to lift one of the many tires that lay scattered around the parking lot. Three manages to hear a barely audible, frustrated huff before another raven-haired male makes an appearance in the cluttered lot, hopping over the fence and just barely managing to stick the landing.

“That there is Shepard, he’s ‘un angry son of a gun. Usually the one out patrollin’ these ‘ere parts, along with Minnow. Guess he’s out at the moment, huh? Anyways, he saw yous roamin’ ‘round the streets ‘n drug you ‘ere ‘long with Songbird ov’ there. ‘N Lix of course, ‘im ‘n Songbird are always causin’ trouble ‘round these parts. In fact, ‘im ‘n Lix caused quite the hoo-ha today, ‘round the same time Shepard found ya’ actually. Songbird up ‘n got ‘imself thrown out a damned window. Han’s been pickin’ glass outta ‘im for the past hour or so, poor fella.” A chuckle escapes No Body before he gestures to Shepard, leaning towards Three’s ear as he does so. “Ya’ di’int ‘ear it from me or nuh’in, but that there fella is cuckoo. Bonkers I tell ya’. I was out guardin’ with ‘im ‘un night ‘n lemme tell ya’, I ‘eard that er talkin’ - ‘n not to me or ‘imself. But to ‘is bat! That damned glorified wooden stick!”

No Body gives Three a crazed look of exasperation before he snorts, spitting onto the pavement. “Got a name for it ‘n everythin’. Calls it “Eunice”. Quite the name if I do say so me’self.”

No Body reverts back to his original stature, watching as Lix and Shepard work together to stack the tire Lix was previously struggling with on top of a stack of four others. Three looks around the lot, confused on how there could be such serenity when just outside the wall of chain link fence, tires, and hubcaps - there was chaos. He smiles to himself, though he hoped no one had noticed. It reminded him of home. Yet, somehow, he didn’t feel trapped like he did when he was in the “sanctuary” that was southern Seoul.

Three directs his attention to Chan, who had kicked open the cooler he had previously gotten his drink out of. He fishes around in it for awhile before he pulls out a bright orange can, water running off of his arm and onto the asphalt. His eyes once again meet Three’s, holding his gaze for a rough moment before he finally speaks.

“Think fast.” His deep voice attacks Three’s ears like an air-raid siren and it takes Three a moment to process what he said.

Chan tosses the can in Three’s direction, Three managing to haphazardly catch it between his fingers. Chan gives him an affirming nod before crushing his own can in his hand, tossing it into the wastebin beside him before heading over to the building he had come out of. He turns back to No Body, expecting him to say something about his interaction with Chan; however, all he finds next to him is empty space. Three quickly spots No Body on his way over to the picnic table, unsure what to do, he stays in his spot - staring at the can of Fanta he now held in his hand.

His fingers grow cold from the beverage, switching hands, he cracks it open and relishes in the sweet scent that wafts up to his nose before taking a sip. For a split second, Three feels like he’s back home - before the war. For a moment, Three feels like the childhood that had been snatched away from him had been given back. However, the moment is short-lived and Three is quickly and unwillingly brought back to reality.

“Say, Three! C’mere!” No Body beckons Three to join him at the table with Han and Songbird with a wave of his hand.

Three sighs slightly, tongue the last of the fizzy, orange flavor from his lips before heading over to the table. Han offers him a quick wave before he goes back to extracting little shards of glass from Songbird’s arm with his tweezers. Songbird winces, moving an arm to smack at Han’s hand before giving Three a slight nod to acknowledge his presence.

“Knock if off Han, that hurts! Besides, you already got the big pieces out!” Songbird hisses, sitting up and yanking his arm from Han’s seemingly delicate, yet clumsy hands.

Han lets out an irritated huff before standing from his spot, “Fine, you don’t want my help? You’re not gonna get it. Have fun with chunks of glass stuck in your wounds.” Han teases a fake smile, “Spoiler, it hurts more than salt.”

Han’s dog-like eyes meet Three’s and he extends a hand. Three stares at him for a moment, marveling at how his innocent eyes contrasted with his crass and defensive behavior. Three quickly takes his hand when No Body nudges his arm, fearing that he’d soon be on the receiving end of his dismissive attitude.

“I’m Han, it’s nice to meet you. No Body says to call you Three, don’t remember your name huh? Don’t worry, happens to the best of us.” Han offers a smile, showing off a set of rabbit-like front teeth that sparkle in the sunlight, though it quickly fades when Lix interjects from across the lot.

“He’s talkin’ about himself. He don’t remember his name either.” Lix’s voice is deep, contrasting with his baby-like face and not exactly matching the choppiness of his Korean.

Han sighs, clearly fed up, “I’m gonna go look for Changbin, he’s probably in the pool. You wanna come with?”

Three turns to No Body as if to ask for approval. In actuality, Three didn’t know whether to trust the bright eyed male in front of him - let alone No body or the others. No Body gives a quick nod in Three’s direction as if saying “Yeah, he’s fine. Go ahead.” Just as before, Three is hesitant before he accepts Han’s offer. Three follows Han to the door of the building that overshadowed the gas station, wishing he had his shoes but choosing not to bring the subject up.

The steel door opens with a creak of its hinges. Burgundy carpet itches Three’s toes when he steps inside. Han follows him into the building, slamming the door behind him, though it’s obvious he didn’t mean to as he jumps from the loud sound it makes before falling into step with Three who had begun to wander down the long hall.

“So,” Han’s voice is tense as he speaks, awkwardly attempting to start a conversation. “Where’re you from?”

Han’s attempt, however, isn’t enough to break past Three’s shell and get him to talk. The two continue to walk down the hall in awkward silence before Han once again tries to spark a conversation.

“How old’re you? I’m twenty myself, don’t remember my birthday though, just know it’s in September….” Han trails off, looking to Three from the corner of his eye.

“Eighteen.” Three’s voice comes out just above a whisper and for a second, Han thinks he imagined it.

“Oh,” Han exclaims, rather excitedly at that, “You’re the youngest then!”

Three hums, wiggling his toes as he walks. The scent of chlorine floods Three’s nose, causing him to nearly gag at how strong the scent is. The sound of splashing water causes him to perk his head up, noticing the glass wall he and Han had stopped in front of. A pool sits in the center of the room, a brunette floating in it just slightly off-center. Han walks up to the glass door, pushing it open. The sound of the pool filter causes Three’s ears to ring as he and Han step into the humid room.

“Ey! Changbin, new recruit. Come say hi.” Han calls, noticeably startling Changbin and causing him to flail in the water some as he stands up, swimming to the edge of the pool.

He extends his arm up, reaching for Three’s hand to shake. Three nervously takes it, hoping he’s actually sincere and doesn’t end up pulling him into the pool.

“Seo Changbin. Nice to meet you.” Changbin offers a half-assed smile, clearly wanting to resume whatever he was doing when he was floating in the pool.

Three mumbles back awkwardly in response, unsure if he was saying the right thing. “Three.”

Changbin snickers, “Nice name, No Body give you it?”

Three purses his lips, nodding slowly. Han wraps an arm around Three’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it Three, I think it suits you. Until you remember your name that is.” Han glares slightly at Changbin, nudging his shoulder with his foot, “Be nice.”

Changbin rolls his eyes, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he chuckles and shrugs. Without another word, Changbin pushes himself off of the pool wall and swims back towards the center, floating once more. Han sighs, running a hand through his hair before turning his head to look at Three.

“Sorry ‘bout him.” Han pauses and hums, “I guess Minnow is out patrolling, otherwise he’d probably be here with Changbin.”

Three nods his head, remaining silent as Han pulls his arm back, awkwardly shoving his hands into the pockets of his tattered jeans. Han’s head bobs in the direction of the door and his body soon follows as he exits the humid pool room, Three quickly trailing after him like a lost puppy. The scent of old carpet nearly knocks Three off of his toes, contrasting heavily with the burning scent of chlorine that he had begun to grow accustomed to during the short period of time he was in the pool room. The two are silent until Han takes notice of the silver-haired male standing a few feet from them across the hall.

“You meet Chan yet, Three?” Han asks, nodding his head in the direction of Chan, whom of which looked rather unhappy.

Chan lifts his head, eyes meeting Three’s in a manner that causes a shiver to run down Three’s spine. Three shakes his head, offering a small wave though his lips tug into a frown when Chan rolls his eyes. The leather of the male’s jacket squeaks as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, stubbing out the cigarette that Three had yet to notice between his fingers. 

Han chuckles, an awkward breath floating up from the back of his throat as he leans towards Three’s ear as No Body had minutes prior. “I don’t think he’s in a good mood, though it’s rare to catch him in one.”

Chan’s eyes trail from Three’s to the orange can held between his thin fingers. Three takes notice before offering an awkward half-smile.

“Thank- Thank you…” His voice is soft as he speaks, nearly inaudible, and it manages to take him by surprise. 

Han grins as a bubbly giggle rises from his throat, “Ya’know, I didn’t think you could get any quieter, guess you can though, huh?”

Three shrugs before Chan steps away from the wall, turning to walk down the corridor. Three’s voice comes out in a small squeak as he surprises himself, quietly calling out to Chan.

“You- You shouldn’t smoke. You can get- get sick.” His bare feet softly scuff against the scratchy carpet as he avoids Chan’s gaze when he turns his head towards him. 

A smirk tugs the pink lips that stand out against Chan’s porcelain skin, “Good. One way to get out of this hell faster, huh?”

Chan leaves the question open, rather, he doesn’t give Three time to answer before he begins to walk down the corridor. The scent of cigarette smoke and worn leather wafts to Three’s nose as Chan passes, the scent of alcohol causing his face to scrunch up as if it was a bitter aftertaste dancing on his taste buds. A hint of sweetpea makes his nose feel tingly and the bombardment of different scents leaves Three’s head to feel fuzzy. 

“I’m sure he’ll be feeling better tomorrow. Today’s been hectic for him. Ya’know, you showing up, Lix and Songbird causing trouble. Aside from Liz and Songbird, it’s usually peaceful around here - I guess.” Han pauses, once again pulling his hair back before letting it fall back into his eyes within seconds of doing so. “Don’t take it personally. He doesn’t mean to be rude, it’s just who he is as a person. I’m sure he’ll warm up eventually.”

Han trails off, a quiet mutter of “Or at least I hope…” quickly being covered up by a change of topic.

“So, No Body tell you what your role is tonight? I'm on guard duty at the station, Songbird was supposed to be on shift with me but… uh… I don't think he's too happy with me at the moment. To be fair, he usually isn't happy with me." Han hums, "I sure hope I don't get Shepard on duty with me if Songbird bails… I can't stand that guy. He can't stand me either."

Three his head slightly, “My… Role?”

Han hums, nodding his head, “Yeah. It’s kinda shady around these parts. If you couldn’t tell.” He laughs. “We don’t trust the people here enough to all sleep at once, so we sleep in shifts. Three of us usually stand guard at the gas station, the others go to their respective rooms here and sleep.”

Han stops in front of a door, chipped paint scratched off in messy letters, “This is my room. If you, uh, aren’t on patrol tonight… You can stay in my room. I don’t mind.”

Han’s slender finger’s reach for the knob before turning it, the gut-wrenching

scent of booze and heavy liquor making Three’s head spin. He looks to Han, trying not to look judgemental as Han didn’t appear to be the type to get into heavy drinking. Though, Three wouldn’t know. He’d only know him for ten minutes. Han sighs, running a hand through his hair once more, and leaving Three to assume it was one of his awkward habits.

“I know it smells bad and everything, trust me, I can’t stand it either. After you sit in there for a few minutes, it uh, goes away?” Han seems unsure as he speaks, stepping in and shoving a few things strewn across the floor towards the wall with his foot, “I’d take another room if I could, but trust me when I say they all smell worse than this one. Kinda like old, dusty . Everything just smells kinda sweaty and sour, I don’t know really. Anyways, don’t get the wrong idea. I know it doesn’t smell like it, but I don’t drink. This used to be No Body’s room before I got here.”

Three nods his head though Han’s back is facing him, before slowly trailing after the older. Han flops down onto his bed, legs dangling off the edge of the mattress as springs squealed under the weight of his upper body.

“So, I know you’re new and all. You probably have no idea what’s going on, at least, you don’t look like you do. If you have any questions, ask me or No Body. My information is limited but I can, uh, at least try to help, yeah?” Han’s hand finds its way to his hair once more, “If you ever get any injuries, serious or not, come let me know. There are some snacks in the gas station, more in the backroom if not in the front. Uh, what else? … Uh… Oh! There a kitchen here, nothing extravagant but at least it’s something, yeah? I think I’ve been spending too much time around Chan and his sulking, I’m starting to pick up his speaking habits… Ah, anyway, as I was saying… There’s a kitchen here, some stuff to cook but not much… Been a while since the, uh, suppliers came… Help yourself to whatever, just know if you eat everything you gotta go, uh, shopping with us. Though you don’t look like you eat much anyways.”

Han hums, “Songbird was supposed to be on dinner duty tonight before going on shift with me… But we both know what’s up with him…”

Three chuckles slightly, pushing some of Han’s things against the bed and wall to clear a spot to sit. He lowers himself to the ground, suddenly regretting his choice to sit on the floor as when he looks straight ahead he sees the ever so pleasant sight of the crotch of Han’s pants. Three directs his gaze to the mahogany carpet that was the same as the hallway, picking small balls of fuzz off of it as to avoid awkwardly staring at the other’s groin.

“Not gonna lie, it’s gonna be a bit awkward between us if you just sit there and stare at my crotch, Three.” Han laughs, sitting up and folding his hands together in his lap, “I mean, you swing whichever way you want, and I’ll swing whichever way I want, but we just met so maybe hold off on staring at my junk.”

Three exhales, trying to hold back a snort. Han grins, showing off his rabbit-like teeth once more, though the way his cheeks puff out makes him resemble a squirrel. Han once again tousles his hair, leaving it to stick up in a way that makes him look like he’d been electrocuted.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, have a seat!” He pats his bed enthusiastically and Three pretends not to notice the cloud of dust that forms as he does so.

Three pulls himself off the floor, stumbling as he does so but making a swift recovery before Han notices.

“You don’t- don’t want me looking at your crotch, yet you- yet you- yet you want me in bed with you?” Three smirks, sitting next to Han and playfully nudging his shoulder, “I- I think you messed up your- your ste- steps a bit…”

Han lets out a wheeze, once again laying on his back, head turned towards the window. 

“Ya know…” Han begins, trailing off with a yawn, “The world may have gone to , but at least the sunset is still nice?”

Three follows Han’s gaze, looking out the window to see the peach sorbet colored sky, fading slowly but surely to the color of a raspberry malt and the color of grape soda. He hums in agreement, taking notice of the smile on Han’s face that had yet to go to rest. Han’s chest bounced slightly as he stifled a laugh, causing Three to quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry it’s just, I never thought a shy kid like you would say what you just said. And the fact that you said it confidently while stuttering oh my gosh. You even said it with a straight face!” Han lets out another wheeze, once again having a fit of laughter. “You were so quiet a minute ago I-”

Three snorts once more, “Yeah, and you haven’t shut up since- since- since you started- started talking.”

Han lightly smacks Three’s arm, earning a harder smack in return, which causes Han to laugh once more.

“I think you and I will get along just fine, huh, Three?” Han sits up, smiling and extending a hand for Three to shake.

Three takes it, unsure why he suddenly wanted to shake hands, but fulfilling Han’s silent request nonetheless.

“Chan’s drinkin’ tonight…” Han begins, releasing Three’s hand from his grip, “Which means we probably won’t be eating any time soon, I mean unless you want stale cornflakes in a bowl of orange juice and frozen tteokbokki. To be honest, I don’t even think Shepard would eat that, and that guy would probably eat a can of cat food if you put it in front of him without the label.”

“I-” Three pauses, sighing as his face contorts in disgust, “That’s- that’s nasty…”

“Chan or Shepard?” Han chuckles, dragging out the last syllable of both names.

Three purses his lips, furrowing his eyebrows, “Both??”

“Han? The hell are you?” A new voice finds its way to Three’s ears and Han rolls his eyes as he huffs. “Shepard's coming. Get ready for the possibility of a show.” 

The two sit in silence for a minute before Han’s bedroom door is flung open, the black hair of Shepard messily hanging in his eyes as he storms into his room. The door bounce off the wall, nearly nailing Shepard in the face as he makes his loud entrance. He stops dead, loosening the grip on the wooden bat between his fingers.

“Didn’t realize you had company, who’s this guy? You two tickle buddies or something?” Shepard squints, examining Three though it didn’t look like he could see him in the first place due to how much he was squinting.

“Ignore him, he lost his contacts and is practically blind without them. Then again, didn’t expect any less from someone who talks to a stick like its a person.” Han’s voice is low as he speaks, though Shepard obviously heard him due to the scowl present on his face.

“Shut your yap. Anyways, it’s time for duty.” Shepard sighs, “Eunice and I don’t feel like waiting on you forever.”

Han groans, “Stop talking about the bat like it’s a person, in’ psycho.”

“What did you just call me?” Shepard’s knuckles turn white as Han stands, stretching his arms over his head.

“You clearly heard me.” Han’s voice and expression hold close to no emotion as he speaks, clearly done with Shepard’s presence already.

“And you clearly don’t want to take the risk of saying it again-”

“Try me, but put the bat down first. Don’t be an unfair bastard.” 

Shepard tosses the bat to the ground, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket and readying himself to throw a punch. However, before Shepard or Han can jack one another in the face, someone clears their throat at the door.

“Just because I’m drinking, doesn’t mean you two idiots can beat eachother's brains out. Especially in front of the kid.” Shepard lets out a whine as Chan pulls him back by the collar of his jacket.

“Get out and go do your jobs. If either of you starts a scuffle with the other, I’ll give Lix the permission to shoot both of you. Go hold down the fort, and behave.”

Han noticeably swallows at the threat, “Yessir.”

“Whatever.” Chan’s eyes narrow at Shepard, “I- I mean yessir!”

Shepard scrambles out of Chan’s grip before picking up “Eunice” and pushing Han out the door.

“Don’t touch me you filthy rat!” Han hisses, smacking Shepard away from him.

“I’d rather touch you and shove you out then get shanked by him! He’s crazy when he drinks.” Shepard’s desperation carries into the room from the hall, before Han snorts. “Says you!” 

Chan makes his way to the door, a slight saunter in his step. Three lets out a sigh in relief, hoping to be left alone for a bit to absorb everything that's happened in the short period of time that he’s been awake. The door closes and lock clicks shut. Chan turns to face Three, walking up to him and squatting in front of him.

The scent of alcohol that dances on Chan’s breath, and slight buzzed look in his eyes tells Three he’s in for a not so great time. “We need to talk, kid.”