Yixing glances at his phone screen, but it stays stubbornly black. He’s supposed to be checking his patient records ready for ward rounds, but it’s hard to focus. The monsoon season has started and the rain has been non-stop for days, and he’s anxious about Songmi travelling in the terrible weather. Last week, his wife rushed back to her hometown of Daegu when her father was suddenly admitted to hospital. Yixing had wanted to go too, but he hadn’t been able to clear his schedule and when Songmi, a couple of hours later, had called him to say it was just a transient ischaemic attack, not a full-blown , they’d agreed he would stay in Seoul. Now her dad is back on his feet and Songmi is taking the train home. It’s safer than driving, but there’s the chance the lines could be washed out, as they have in previous monsoons, and his wife will be stuck in Daegu and away from him for who knows how long. He sighs and leaves to start his afternoon ward rounds.

His first room houses two patients, 85-year-old Han Donghyun who developed pneumonia on top of his lung cancer, and 67-year-old Park Sanghoon who got a stoma after his ileus was treated surgically and they found a tumour in his rectum. Yixing enters the room, trailed by the intern and a first-year resident.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” he says. Sanghoon looks up from the newspaper he’s reading. Yixing takes a few steps over to stand next to the bed and checks his notes. “How are you, Mr. Park?” he asks.

Sanghoon puts the paper down in his lap. “Better,” he says, waving his hand gently and making the IV line to the bag of pain medication behind him ripple. “When will I be going home?”

“I want the gastrointestinal surgeon who did your surgery to take a look at you as well, but from my perspective, you’re good to go when your pain can be managed with paracetamol," Yixing tells him. "We will need to schedule check-ups and keep an eye out for your cancer, but so far so good.”

Sanghoon nods and lifts the newspaper again. Yixing catches sight of the front-page headline describing a mudflow at Taebaeksan threatening the city of Taebaek and how evacuation has been started to prevent loss of life. It’s all because of the rain. Yixing thinks of Songmi and hopes she’ll get to Seoul okay.

A cough from the other patient distracts him and Yixing asks the elderly man how he’s doing, then moves on to the patients in the next couple of rooms. A woman with advanced cancer complains about the weather as she stares out at the sheeting rain beating against the window, and Yixing can only agree with her. An elderly patient with kidney cancer is deteriorating in front of him, her mental state altering back and forth in the few minutes he’s there. Yixing listens as she talks to him like he’s her long-dead husband and schedules an MRI to look for brain metastases. The further he gets around the ward, the more questions he starts to ask the intern and the resident, asking them about the conditions of his patients and what to do about it.

When he finishes the round, he sends the intern to the outpatient clinic and the first year resident has disappears into the shared workroom to write up an assignment. Yixing goes back to his office to put in the last details in the patient’s journals. A soft KaTalk! sounds from his phone on his desk and he lunges for it to check the message. I got on the train fine. Are you gonna come pick me up from the station? Songmi has added a double heart emoji and Yixing feels himself relax. His wife is on her way back to him.

I can’t, won’t be off work until 5, he writes, and sends a sad, crying emoji. Songmi texts back with a kissing emoji and promises to meet him at home instead. Yixing leans back in his chair and closes his eyes briefly, shaking off the worry that had been occupying his mind, before going back to his work.

When his shift is over, Yixing sheds his doctor’s coat and heads out of oncology towards the main entrance. The rain is still bucketing down outside, making everything seem darker than it really is. Yixing took the car to work this morning and he doesn’t regret it. It even looks cold out there, though the temperature displayed on his weather app says 24 degrees. Yixing pulls his raincoat closer around him before making a dash for the car through sheets of rain. By the time he reaches the carpark a couple of minutes away, he's drenched. Behind the wheel, he wipes the water from his face, then wriggles out of his coat and drops it to the floor on the passenger side.

Driving home takes longer than usual because Yixing is extra careful. He doesn’t have any desire to end up in a hospital bed for weeks again and, as was driven home to him earlier this year, any little bump could be devastating to him. Driving still makes him a little nervous, and it’s worse in weather like this. The rain hasn’t let up at all when he arrives at their apartment. If it continues like this, the mudflow in Taebaek isn’t the only thing South Korea is going to struggle with.

He runs from the car to the entrance, raincoat in hand, and sighs with relief as he enters the building. They live on the tenth floor, so he takes the elevator as the water from his raincoat drops onto the floor. He’s so glad he made it home. Hopefully the rain will stop soon.

“Hey love,” he calls into the apartment when he opens the door and steps inside. Songmi calls out to him from the lounge and he smiles at the sound of her voice. It’s so nice to hear her greet him after a week of coming home to an empty apartment. He sheds his shoes and hangs his raincoat to dry before he wanders into the lounge and finds his wife on their couch, bare feet tucked under her and a book in her lap. She laughs when she sees his sodden state.

“Oh dear,” she says and puts her book down so she can get off the couch and meet him in the middle of the room. She reaches up to brush the soaked hair plastered to his forehead aside. “What horrible weather. How was driving?”

“Horrible,” Yixing says, “but I survived.”

Songmi goes back to the couch and Yixing heads into the bedroom to change into dry clothes and get a towel for his hair. When he returns to the lounge, Songmi tells him about her parents and how they’re doing. Her father’s memory has returned after his TIA and he’s started preventative treatment with anticoagulants. It had taken a few days for them to get used to a regular schedule but Songmi is confident they have it all under control now. Yixing dries his hair and rubs the towel over his face to remove excess water. He drops it on the back of the couch before he sits down beside her feet and pulls them into his lap as Songmi continues. Apparently her sister had visited her parents a few days later. Her sister is doing well in spite of her PCOS, the medication is working and the pain she used to endure has lessened considerably. Yixing is happy for her. Living with chronic pain isn’t much fun. A harsh wind bangs the rain against the windows in their lounge and Songmi stops mid-sentence as they both look over at the glass.

“I hope Joonmyun and Yejin get here okay,” Songmi says and pulls her feet from Yixing’s lap. She moves close enough to kiss his cheek. “Do you want to shower first?”

Yixing looks at her and he wishes he had the guts to say ‘let’s shower together’ but he knows there’s no way that’s going to fly when they have invited dinner guests. It’s probably better it doesn’t happen anyway. “You go first,” he tells her.

Songmi nods and heads towards the bathroom. Yixing leans back and turns around to stare out of the window. He hopes Joonmyun and Yejin get here okay too. Yixing hasn’t spoken a lot to Joonmyun. They’ve done a few consultations together on tumours in the mediastinum, but other than that it’s been polite greetings here and there. Their wives, on the other hand, had really found each other when they’d met at the Christmas party and they’ve been meeting up ever since. This evening is the first time Yejin is bringing her husband for a more formal dinner.

Yixing showers, gets dressed in a white shirt and a pair of black pants, black socks laying on their bed ready for him to wear, though he prefers bare feet in the summer. The ceiling fan is on overdrive in their kitchen as Songmi cooks the last few dishes. Songmi is dressed in a short dark blue satin dress that hugs her body in all the right places and Yixing can’t help himself as he walks up behind her. His arms wrap around her waist and he pulls her closer, just to rest his head on hers and smell her perfume. She chuckles and turns around in his hold. The galbi is in the oven on grill and the pajeon on the pan can wait for a second or two while Yixing leans down to kiss his wife.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her.

Songmi smiles. “You look quite handsome yourself,” she says. Yixing moves in to kiss her again and is thwarted by the rice cooker beeping to let them know it’s done. Songmi pulls away and turns back to the pajeon in the pan and Yixing holds back his sigh as he goes over to grab the rice spoon and prepare the rice bowls.

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rings. Songmi leaves the last pajeon on the now turned off stove before she goes to greet her friend. Yixing can hear them chatter at the front door from where he’s setting the last side dishes on the dining table. Soon their guests enter the kitchen and dining area and Yixing looks up from where he’s just put the last plate.

“Good to see you,” he says and walks over to shake their hands. Yejin is holding their son in her arms, and Joonmyun is carrying a baby car seat. The baby looks around with wide curious eyes. He’s so cute, and Yixing goes still for a moment, eyes going distant as he wonders if one day, their wishes will come true.

Joonmyun looks a little embarrassed as he nods towards Yejoon. “My mother was going to babysit but she was afraid to drive in the rain, so I hope it’s okay we’ve brought him along,” he says. Yixing smiles reassuringly.

“It’s fine," he assures him. "The rain really is crazy.”

The conversation flows between them easily after that. Joonmyun tells him about a fancy bypass he’d received from a well-established American university months ago. It’s amazing, Yixing thinks, that they have a surgeon like Joonmyun in their hospital. He deserves the recognition for his skills. He’s still a fellow, but there’s no way he won’t rise to fame within the medical community soon enough. Dinner goes smoothly, without a peep from baby Yejoon as he sleeps in his car seat. As the rain pours down outside, the inside is full of laughter and smiles. They talk about everything and Yixing soon realises there’s a really good friend in Joonmyun.

“Yejin told me you started IVF,” Joonmyun says over dessert and it takes Yixing by surprise. He looks towards the women on the other side of the table, but neither of them notice the sudden silence from him. Joonmyun, however, does. “I’m sorry if it’s not a good topic," he says quickly. "She was so excited for Songmi that she couldn't help telling me, but I don’t know the circumstances or anything. I apologize if I’ve said too much.”

Yixing can actually see the embarrassment and anxiety torturing Joonmyun and he hastens to reassure him. There’s no reason for him to be so ashamed of what he’s said. Even though Yixing doesn’t know Joonmyun that well, this isn’t the first time Yixing has noticed his tendency towards overthinking.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I should’ve known Songmi would have told Yejin. I’m just not used to talking about it yet, it’s a bit of a sore topic for me,” he admits. “But it’s going fine. We recently had the first few embryos transferred but it’s unlikely to catch on the first time, according to our specialist.”

Joonmyun nods. “You should choose Kim Jongdae as your obstetrician when you succeed,” he says. “He’s a great doctor and a good friend of mine. I can say with 100% certainty that he will take great care of Songmi.”

Yixing laughs and thanks him. He doesn’t know if - or when - they’ll succeed, but the few times he's met Jongdae he seemed like a really nice guy, and it's a good reminder that he's an ob-gyn.

The rest of the evening goes by peacefully. Coffee is brewing and spreading a delicious scent in the apartment. Songmi has found the cookies she baked a couple of days ago and they’ve moved from the dining table to the couch. Yejoon has been so good all evening and Yixing thinks, if he’s lucky enough to get a kid, he wants them to be as easy as Yejoon. When he says that out loud Joonmyun snorts and Yejin looks at him with a questioning eyebrow raised. The story isn’t shared, though, because Joonmyun refuses to tell it and Yixing laughs when Yejin pouts at her husband. When the coffee has brewed and they settle down the conversation steers towards summer plans and what they'll do when the rain stops. They talk about where to go, what countries they’d like to see if possible and tell stories from past vacations.

An hour later when the coffee is gone and they’ve said goodbye to Joonmyun and Yejin, Yixing settles on the couch and gets his book. He removes his socks and leans against the back and starts reading. Songmi is changing into her nightwear in their bedroom. A bit of shuffling sounds in their apartment but Yixing is too caught up in his book to take notice.

“Hey baby,” Songmi says from the doorway and her tone of voice has Yixing look up. He puts his book down and shifts on the couch so he can focus all his attention on his wife. “My period is ten days late.”

---

When Baekhyun climbs up the steps from the subway stop closest to home, it’s pouring as heavily as it had been when he left work. Sheets of rain bolt down from the sky like a waterfall, and rivulets trickle down the steps into the subway despite the storm drains. There’s just so much water the city can barely cope. The Han is higher than it’s been in years, threatening to flood the low Jamsil Bridge, lapping at the lower walkway of the Han River Park. If it gets much higher, some of the highways will have to close.

Baekhyun unfolds his umbrella when he reaches the street level, but everything is just so wet that even the umbrella doesn’t do much to keep him dry. His head is protected, but the rain is driven sideways with the wind, and the standing water on the pavements splashes up, so that by the time he’s at Chanyeol and Yeonseok’s apartment building five minutes later, he’s nearly as drenched as he would have been without the umbrella.

He shakes off the umbrella as best he can before he enters the apartment building lobby. His shoes squeak as he crosses the floor, and his jeans cling to his legs, heavy and chilly now that the air conditioning hits him. As he reaches the elevator he sees the elderly security guard dragging a couple of big black non-slip mats out of the storage room. Baekhyun leans his umbrella against the wall and hurries over.

“Hi, Mr. Lee,” he says cheerfully, reaching to take the mats from him. “Let me help, these look heavy.”

Mr. Lee straightens up, rubbing his back and looking relieved as Baekhyun takes the weight of the mats. “Thanks, Baekhyun,” he says. “They need to go between the door and the elevator. People can’t help tracking water through and I don’t want anyone to slip.”

Baekhyun wraps his fingers through the holes and hauls the mats across the foyer. They are heavy, and he’s glad he came in at this moment. Mr. Lee has a herniated disk. He shouldn’t be trying to lift things like this. He grunts a little as he drags one of the mats into place in front of the elevator. He’s still too skinny, really. His arms are like single noodles. He should work out. Yeonseok would probably take him to the gym and show him what to do if Baekhyun asked. Yeonseok’s arms are probably stronger than Baekhyun’s legs.

Mr. Lee continues to chatter as Baekhyun drags the second mat into place and tries not to let on how hard it is. He tells Baekhyun about how long it’s been since he last saw rains like this, and how a mudslide near his home village has blocked off the only access road.

“And they say it’s not going to let up for at least another two days,” Mr. Lee continues as Baekhyun drops the last mat with a heavy thwack. He straightens up, brushing his hands on his soaked jeans, and nods.

“I heard that too. I hope the river can cope. When I left work it looked close to bursting its banks.”

“Luckily we’re on high ground here,” Mr. Lee says. “But I shouldn’t be keeping you, Baekhyun, you’re soaked. Go and get dry, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Baekhyun smiles reassuringly at the elderly man, feeling a warmth inside him at how he cares. “I’ll have a hot shower as soon as I get in,” he promises. Mr. Lee smiles at him, his face collapsing into affectionate wrinkles.

Baekhyun knows that getting wet doesn’t actually correlate to catching a cold, but Mr. Lee wouldn’t believe him if he tried to explain that, even though he knows Baekhyun is a doctor. When Baekhyun got well enough to be able to pay attention to his surroundings and find interest in people again, he’d introduced himself to the building security guard. He'd spent hours sitting with him in the security room before he'd gone back to work, listening quietly to all the old man's stories. Mr. Lee could tell Baekhyun had been ill, never asked for specifics, and has looked out for him ever since. He says Baekhyun reminds him of his grandson who now lives in Tokyo, and Baekhyun basks in the attention.

Thanks to his ongoing psychotherapy, Baekhyun has become aware that he needs to be shown affection a lot more than he’d ever really realised. It was probably part of the reason why he’d broken so badly. He’d relied solely on Nari for affection and physical contact, and when they’d broken up, he’d lost that, along with everything else.

He’s so lucky, he thinks as he gets into the elevator and takes it to the fifth floor, with Chanyeol and Yeonseok. So, so lucky. They’ve been more generous than Baekhyun could ever deserve. Yeonseok had even taken leave during that first week, when Baekhyun was so low he couldn’t even shower by himself, just to look after him. He’d been more helpless than a small child. It’s hard for him to even think of how bad he’d felt back then. He’s so lucky that he had people who cared enough to save him. Baekhyun doesn’t know how he can ever repay them.

He’s still on antidepressants and probably will be for a while longer, but he is living again. He’s himself again. He hasn’t had a psychosis since that time months ago when he’d impulsively injured his wrist. He feels stable. Yeonseok and Chanyeol see that too, and they trust him again. The locks are off the cabinets, the knives are within everyone’s reach and they can open the blinds without having to climb onto a chair and wind the mechanism manually. He’s allowed to close his bedroom door, use the stove, and be home alone without them worrying. He’s glad that he can be a good flatmate now. He knows that Chanyeol, especially, used to fear coming home and finding Baekhyun gone beyond help. He can only imagine how brave Chanyeol must have been to allow Baekhyun to live with him while having to constantly be afraid of that. Baekhyun isn’t sure that he could do it.

He’s shivering a little by the time he gets to the apartment door. The air-conditioning is strong in the halls, many degrees colder than the humid monsoon warmth outside. He taps in the code and pushes the door open, making a quick plan in his head to get out one of the containers of doenjang jiggae he and Yeonseok had made on the weekend and put in containers in the freezer for the times when they’re not all eating together. It can defrost while he’s showering. It’s just after 1 pm and he only worked the morning today, so he has a couple of hours before Lu Han is picking him up at 4. They’re going to a lecture being held at a conference centre just out of town by a visiting plastic surgeon from Japan, a burns expert. Baekhyun is looking forward to it, and he’s also looking forward to seeing Lu Han again. The cosmetic surgeon is back to his regular job at his private clinic, but they’d got on so well during the three weeks they’d shared Baekhyun’s role, and Baekhyun finds himself missing his passionate talks of cosmetic procedures, his sharp humour, and the way he throws his head back when he laughs.

He pads down the hall barefoot, soaked socks in hand, comes around the corner into the kitchen, and stops dead in his tracks. Yeonseok is pressing Chanyeol up against the pantry cupboard door, almost on tiptoe as they kiss passionately. Hands are going everywhere, up Yeonseok’s shirt, down Chanyeol’s waistband, and a slightly strangled noise escapes Baekhyun. Chanyeol opens his eyes, makes eye contact with Baekhyun, and pulls his head back from Yeonseok with a gasp. His face, initially flushed, pales.

Baekhyun is only shocked for a second. He whoops loudly. “Yes, man! Get it on!” he cheers, hopping across the chilly floor in his bare feet to the freezer door. Yeonseok, who had moved in to worry at Chanyeol’s neck with his teeth when Chanyeol pulled his face away, finally notices Baekhyun’s presence and looks around, eyes hazy. At Baekhyun’s whoop, Chanyeol stops paling and instead floods a deep, deep scarlet.

“Don’t mind me!” Baekhyun exclaims as he enthusiastically roots out a container of jiggae and slams the freezer door, then shoves it in the microwave and sets it to defrost. “Gosh, is it just me or is it getting hot in here! I think I need to go have a shower!”

Chanyeol makes a strange, wheezing squeak, kind of like a pet toy being stepped on. Baekhyun isn’t sure whether it’s at Baekhyun’s teasing or whether Yeonseok has just done something to him, but he decides to leave the couple to it and beats his retreat.

He peels his soggy jeans off thankfully and steps into the shower. Chanyeol and Yeonseok usually keep their interactions in the shared spaces of the apartment pretty PG, but Baekhyun isn’t stupid, nor is he deaf; he’s house-sharing with a couple who are passionately in love, and things like this are bound to happen. Baekhyun doesn’t mind. He’s never been embarrassed about this kind of thing, and whether it’s heteroual or homoual makes no difference to him. But Chanyeol, though, he’s still working through a lot of internalized fear. Baekhyun hopes that his teasing was enough to allay that initial fear response. He doesn’t want his presence in their apartment to mean they have to hide away.

It makes him think, though. He thinks about it as he showers, dries off, and starts to get dressed in dark jeans and a tidy white button-down for the lecture later. Chanyeol had told Baekhyun to stay as long as he needs to, and Baekhyun knows Chanyeol well enough to know that he means it. But Baekhyun is coming to the stage where he maybe doesn’t, actually, need to live with them any more. He’s so much better. He doesn’t need to be taken care of any more. Should he move out?

The idea makes a cold, sinking feeling in Baekhyun’s chest. His fingers slow on the buttons of his shirt. Right. Maybe he should move out. He could move back to his old apartment, where he still pays rent, simply because he’s never been able to face going back there to pack everything up. This is Yeonseok and Chanyeol’s home, not his. It’s their life he’s barged into, no matter how incredibly nice they’ve both been about it. Yes, he probably should get out. It would be the right thing to do, now that he’s better.

But he doesn’t want to. It makes him scared to think of it. Living alone again...being alone again...

He shivers. He doesn’t want to be alone again. He needs touch. He needs people. He needs to love and be loved. It’s completely platonic with Chanyeol and Yeonseok, of course, and that’s enough for Baekhyun. It’s working for him. They let him be close to them as much as he wants. It’s even better that they’re gay, because they’re so open to physical contact between men, no awkwardness there at all. They let him snuggle up between them during movies, they give him hugs when they notice he looks sad without him even asking. Baekhyun has found that he likes being petted, being taken care of. It makes him feel worth something. It fills the aching emptiness inside.

He doesn’t think they’re faking their affection. He trusts that they genuinely like him, though Baekhyun still can’t quite figure out why. He wouldn’t blame them at all if they were irritated with his clinginess and disruption to the happy life they’d had before. But no matter how nice they are, they are still a couple, and he can’t impose on them forever.

Doing the right thing for Chanyeol and Yeonseok means Baekhyun will lose them. Not completely, they’ll still be friends, he doesn’t doubt that, but they won’t be living together, and that’s a huge thing. He would see Chanyeol at work, like he used to, but he’d rarely get to see Yeonseok anymore. The idea makes his heart hurt.

But he’s a grown man. He shouldn’t be so dependent on physical displays of affection. He should be able to handle living alone.

But what if he can’t? What if he slips again? What if the depression comes back? What if the psychosis…

He tastes the coppery tang of blood. He’s worried at his lip without realising, torn off a scrap of skin that’s started to bleed. He blinks hard and the hint of blood away, forces himself to do up the rest of his buttons.

Back in the bathroom he uses the hairdryer to dry his hair. It’s in good condition again now that he’s eating properly, soft and sleek like it used to be, so he doesn’t need any product. He lets it fall in soft strands over his forehead, pats a little moisturizer into his skin, and eyes his reflection critically.

He wants to look nice for this evening. Lu Han is so beautiful. Baekhyun knows he’s not beautiful, but he still wants to look as nice as he can. He knows Chanyeol has some makeup in the drawers under the sink, toner and eyeliner and mascara, nothing excessive. He’s seen Chanyeol wearing it sometimes, just in the evenings, for Yeonseok’s eyes only - except that Baekhyun’s here as well now, so he gets the benefit of a smoky-eyed Chanyeol too. Baekhyun thinks it looks amazing. He could ask Chanyeol to help him put some on. He doesn’t want it to be too much.

It doesn’t occur to him to wonder why he wants to look beautiful for Lu Han.

When he walks into the kitchen again, he finds Yeonseok has taken his defrosted jiggae out of the microwave and is now heating it up in a pan for him. Baekhyun slides up beside him, skating on the slippery floor in his socks.

“Aw, thanks,” he says. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” Yeonseok turns his head to smile at him. “You’re going out again soon, right?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun hip-checks him to make him move aside. Yeonseok moves obligingly, not because Baekhyun actually has any chance of making him move if he didn’t want to. “I’m going to a lecture out at the convention centre in Anyang.” He takes the bubbling soup off the heat, and Yeonseok places a bowl on the counter beside him. “Thanks. You want some?”

“No thanks. Chanyeol and I ate already,” Yeonseok says. “How are you getting to Anyang?”

“My friend Lu Han is driving us.” Baekhyun tips the jiggae into the bowl and puts the pan in the sink, then slides across to sit at the breakfast bar. Yeonseok follows and sits down beside him.

“Be careful driving,” he says. “We might have to close the highways if the water gets much higher. I’m on high alert for the Jamsil Bridge. If it reaches 6.5 metres, I’ll have to go out and enforce closure.”

Baekhyun grimaces sympathetically. It can’t be fun bein