Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling

Woohyun is kissing a man and he can’t remember his name. He thinks he said that he is an idol and a fan of his; but he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to read half the words in his books but it doesn’t matter, because in the dim light of the club he kind of looked like someone familiar, and familiarity God, he would give everything for it - everything for it not to be another stranger in his bed.

“You’re not a fan of my books, are you?” he says, his breath heavy, fine beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Smirking, the man throws him onto the bed and climbs up on him.

“I said I was your fan, not a fan of your books.” In the light of his bedroom, the idol looks like the stranger he is, half-erased make-up, set hair starting to become sweaty with a few locks plastered over his forehead, lips swollen from the kissing.

“Turn off the light,” he puffs as the idol pulls his sweatshirt above his head.

Shutting his eyes, he tries to imagine the hands skating all over his body right now – pale, long fingers…

He has seen them somewhere before.

“Here you go.”

Long pale fingers sliding a business card across the café table.

Woohyun’s stomach grumbles loudly, causing him to blush and wrap his arms around his stomach. He hasn’t had any breakfast today, like most days. He is living with his old high school friend, whose parents are not very delighted about it. He tries to keep out of their way but there are times when he catches them talking about how he is ‘freeloading’; whatever, he has developed a thick skin. It’s the only way. To stick it out.

“So…?”

“I-yes, here, the rest of the manuscript.” He takes it out of his bag and passes it to the man with trembling hands. His first completed novel. It has been rejected by 56 publishers so far. No agent wants to take on an unpublished country bumpkin pretending to be a writer.

Laughing, the man says, “No, I mean what do you want to order? I’m starving.”

Blushing again, he quietly orders the cheapest thing on the menu. Tsking, the man says, “That’s not going to do,” and goes on to order two full meals.

“Wow, you must be really hungry,” he laughs nervously.

“I always work up an appetite after reading a good novel.”

Woohyun looks up at him in shock.

“You-you liked it?”

“I liked it, but-”

There’s always a but. Many of the publishers have told him how his novel is really good but…he’s an unpublished author. He has no money, he can’t even pay for a beta reader. The market for this genre is currently down. This wasn’t going to be any different.

“But you can’t publish it?”

“How can I publish it when I haven’t read the whole thing?” The man laughs loudly, tapping the manuscript he has just been handed. “Let me finish reading it, and tomorrow you can come to the office to sign the contract.”

Woohyun stares at him with unblinking eyes. He must have just misheard the man. He must have passed out slightly, or fell into a dream, where he heard words like ‘contract’.

“Are you okay?”

He is frozen in his seat.

“Nam Woohyun?” The man shakes him by the shoulder, looking a little worried. His long pale fingers squeeze him gently and he stares at them for a bit too long.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” he passes his hand over his eyes. “You were saying you’ll let me know after you’ve read the whole thing?”

“If the rest of it just as good, and I have a gut feeling that it will be, I will publish it.” He winks at him.

His heart suddenly feels too big for his chest and he thinks it’s going to burst. Warm tears start streaming down from his eyes uncontrollably and he does nothing to stem their flow. His throat closes up and he can’t even say thank you or that he’s grateful. The words all feel stuck to each other and his mouth feels hollow.

“Oh dear, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” The man tries to wipe off some of the tears with a napkin but more come.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say, taking a hold of the man’s hand, “thank you so much for giving me a chance. I can’t tell you how much-”

“I think I can tell how much,” the man smiles kindly. “Look, the food is getting cold.”

He sniffles while eating, causing the other man to grin from time to time.

“Ah, umm…Mr-” he is having trouble remembering his name now; after all, this was his 57th publisher, “umm, CEO-nim-”

“Just call me hyung, that’s too formal. Besides,” he beams, “I hope to have our relationship continue for a very long time.”

Clearing his throat, he says, “Umm…hyung, I don’t have any money to pay for beta readers or editors or-”

“That’s what I’m here for.” At that moment, the man really looks like an angel. He could swear there is a halo over his head and he shines so bright. “Your only job is to write.” He checks his wristwatch and gasps. “Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet someone now. Let me give you my number.” He holds out his hand presumably for Woohyun’s phone.

“I-I don’t have a cell phone,” he says embarrassedly.

“No problem.” Taking the card he had given him earlier, he scribbles his number at the back of it. “There you go.” He smiles at him again. “Kim Sunggyu’s the name, remember it.”

Woohyun wouldn’t have any problem remembering it, even without the visiting card.

“Oh, and by the way,” he takes out a couple of bills from his wallet and leaves them on the table. “Here, pay for the food when you’re done.”

“Wait, no, I should…” Woohyun starts, knowing full well he has no means of paying all of the bill by himself.

Sunggyu waves him off. “Remember the first rule of this business, the one who needs something from the other, pays. And, I need you.”

“I need you.” The voice is different, the tone is different, it’s all wrong. It comes out like a moan.

“Wait, wait,” he groans as he feels the idol’s hand sink under his boxer.

“What for?” he sounds annoyed.

“Let me just…” He slides out from underneath him, taking a few deep breaths.

“You’re really killing the mood, you know.”

“I just…don’t want to be touched.”

The idol scoffs. “ doesn’t work that way.” He looks away; the darkness is stifling all of a sudden. “Fine, why don’t you touch me?”

Maybe it is for the best that he doesn’t know what Sunggyu’s voice would sound like when he’s struggling to catch his breath, with sweat dripping down his back, his eyes shut tightly.

“Come on,” the idol grabs his wrist and pulls it towards his body.

He lurches forward.

He is being pulled away, from everything. From the other people at the party. They are there to celebrate him, to congratulate him. But right now, he is being removed from the centre of attention and actually, he doesn’t care.

“Congratulations!” Sunggyu says, when they are in a dimly lit corridor of the restaurant, devoid of other people. “I wanted to say it, you know, away from other people, where I have your full attention.”

“You always have my full attention.” The words just spill out but they’re not wrong.

Sunggyu laughs. “So, a million sales. You did it.”

“You mean you did it.” He takes a few steps towards Sunggyu, wondering if he feels the attraction too. He would give anything to know if Sunggyu’s belly is doing summersaults as well at the thought of them being alone, of being so close. He wonders if Sunggyu also counts every moment they spend together, whether it’s talking about his writing or the weather or the news. And above all, he treasures the moments when they are silent the most, because in his head, he tells him all the things he couldn’t bear to say out loud and Sunggyu silently reciprocates.

“I will take no part of the credit, it’s all you. You’re the author.”

“The author is only as good as the editor.”

“You’ve learned flattery very well, Nam Woohyun.”

The way he says his name fills him with hope and dread at the same time.

“Look I can’t compete with your fans or the rich distributor who plans on translating your book and selling millions of copies worldwide…” He takes something out of his pocket. It’s a long box tied with a blue ribbon. “But here you go.”

He reads the card – ‘Congratulations. Love you.’

He looks up at him, electrocuted. “I love you too,” he says, baring his heart for Sunggyu to see, to realise.

He only pats his hair softly. “I’d understand if you want to sign with a bigger publishing company but-”

“It’s fine, they don’t have what I need.”

“What do you need? I’ll try to get it for you.”

Sighing, he says, “A need is not a need if you already have it.”

Laughing, he says, “Are you drunk? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s okay,” he gently cups his face in his palm, catching the older by surprise. He recoils a bit, his face tense in his hand. “You won’t understand.”

Taking a couple of steps forwards, so that their feet touch, he drapes another hand over his shoulder loosely.

“Yah Nam Woohyun, what are you doing? You’re really drunk.” Sunggyu’s voice falters but he doesn’t step back, as if worried that if he moves a muscle Woohyun will collapse. “Don’t-don’t make a mistake.”

“What to do hyung,” he sighs, his eyes already moist. Sunggyu looks a mixture of worry, fear, and disorientation, his pupils shaking. “I think I’ve already made a mistake.” He sticks his lips forward, watching Sunggyu’s eyes dropping to them and the nervousness increasing in his eyes.

“Woohyun-ah,” his voice comes out in a quiver, “let me take you home, I think you’re really drunk, you need to sleep it off.”

“Hyung, do you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Then do you love me?”

“I told you-”

“No,” he captures his gaze with a piercing stare. “Do you really, really love me?”

“I-” his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “I don’t know. I mean-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Never mind…” he hides his face in the other’s chest, more out of embarrassment than anything else. His entire body feels like it’s o