When Sungjong fantasized about his imprint, he'd always thought the first person he'd tell was his grandfather. He would take his imprint home and show them off and his grandfather would beam and congratulate them. Now though, he could barely believe it himself when he stumbled through the door. His grandfather was still awake; the light was on in the office. He was probably reading something dark and mysterious. Sungjong almost stepped forward to grab the door handle, but instead he paused.

"Pop, I'm home. I'm gonna head to bed, goodnight." Sungjong said through the door instead.

"Goodnight, Sungjong." His grandfather called back, "See you in the morning."

When Sungjong was alone in his room he dropped his bag and hoodie and fell onto his bed. He could feel it then. Actually he could feel it the entire walk home, but when he was still it was like something alive in his chest.

Myungsoo was still panicking but now it was like a low-grade panic. He was tense and nervous. Sungjong was dreading going back tomorrow.

As an afterthought, before he left, Sungjong scribbled his name and number on a blank paper on Myungsoo's work table. He didn't think Myungsoo would call him, but it wouldn't hurt. Maybe not now, but eventually it would be dangerous to be kept apart. Sungjong had never even considered being apart from his imprint if he found them, but he'd read enough medical journals to know the dangers of touch starvation.

What was Sungjong's luck? An imprint that didn't believe in Lund's? Uneasy and, holy . Probably straight.

With a burst of energy Sungjong lifted himself off his bed and plopped himself in front of his bookcase. Just a thought, Myungsoo probably wouldn't appreciate the imprint romance novels, so Sungjong pulled only the medical and biology themed Lund's books. He knew them all pretty well. He could tell Myungsoo himself, but who knew if Myungsoo would listen. He needed to convince Myungsoo to make a doctor’s appointment with him. They needed to be tested for certain, though there was really no doubt. Whether they had the regular type I or the rarer and, with the way things were going so far, more dangerous type II. Already Sungjong could feel an uneasiness over his skin, but he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not. He'd always wondered what it was like and now he just wasn't sure what to make of the sensations.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to make himself wait for tomorrow or whether he wanted to go back tomorrow at all or why he associated Myungsoo with comfort already-- why he wanted it back so bad already.

It was hard to sleep, but when he did it was a heavy sleep that left him wanting more in the morning, peeling himself out of bed unwillingly.

It was also hard to tell whether or not he really wanted to go back to Myungsoo's auto shop. He needed to, obviously, and the ache on his skin wanted him to, but was going to be hard. He could already tell.

The shop was empty again when Sungjong walked in. He wasn't entirely sure how they stayed in business if there were always this many customers, but he'd only been there twice.

Woohyun was at the register again, feet up on the counter and watching something on the computer with headphones in. This time Sungjong walking in with arms full of books caught his attention and he waved with a confused grin. "Hey, you were here yesterday right?"

Sungjong nodded and tried to smile at him, but felt uneasy. "Yeah, I know it's weird, but I told Myungsoo I would be back today with some books I wanted to show him."

Woohyun's eyebrows furrowed, probably wondering when and how he and Myungsoo had gotten friendly so fast. Sungjong wasn't sure what he'd say if asked or what Myungsoo might have told him-- if anything. "Well, you can go on back, I guess."

"Thanks." Sungjong gave a short head bow to him so he wouldn't drop his books and headed towards the door.

He couldn't see Myungsoo again when he nudged the garage door open with his foot. There were two new cars inside now and Sungjong could hear metal clanging somewhere between them. Sungjong cleared his throat, announcing himself, and called Myungsoo's name lightly, like he had the day before. As soon as he spoke the clanging stopped and there was silence for a moment accompanied by a slick feeling of dread that didn't belong to Sungjong, but turned his stomach anyway. Finally Myungsoo stood and looked at Sungjong, but his face was hard and his eyes were cold. Sungjong swallowed, feeling cold even though he flushed so hard he was sure it was not only spread across his cheeks, but down his neck and across his chest.

"Hi," Sungjong said awkwardly.

"You didn't have to come today, I asked you not to." Myungsoo turned away from him, pulling a thick, grimy glove off his left hand and throwing it with its mate onto his work table.

"I know," started Sungjong, "but I don't actually have a choice. I um. I have books for you. They're all about Lund's."

It was amazing the complexity of emotion he felt from Myungsoo at the word "Lund's" Mostly he deciphered disbelief but also curiosity almost as strong.

"I don't need to read them, we don't have Lund's."

Sungjong sighed, trying not to get frustrated. "I think we do. I know a lot about Lund's, and there's no reason for us to be feeling this way if we didn't imprint."

"Feel what way?" Myungsoo turned his back completely and attempted to look busy. "I don't feel anything."

"Well I can tell you're curious, Myungsoo. I can tell that you feel that." Sungjong huffed.

At least Myungsoo turned to look at him then.

Sungjong started slowly, relieved, "Lund's is real, Myungsoo. It's documented and it can be confirmed by a doctor--" Myungsoo's face got that queasy look again, "--But we don't have to." Myungsoo's entire body relaxed again. "There's. I don't know where to start."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Come on." Sungjong said sarcastically, "You know Myungsoo. I could be making this up, but then why would you be feeling it too?"

"Well then," arms crossed, Myungsoo silently challenged him. "What do we do?"

"We don't... well. We don't have to do anything. But there are certain requirements. Skin contact. Proximity. That kind of stuff. That's really it."

Myungsoo didn't look happy, "How long with the skin contact thing?"

"It depends on how long we've been apart, really." Sungjong shrugged, "Now it's been about twelve hours, which isn't great, but we've just met and we don't know which type we have."

"What happens if we go longer than that?" Myungsoo asked him, like he really hadn't known anything about Lund's besides life-time shackles. Sungjong was getting that feeling from him now. That Myungsoo felt imprinting was really more of a hindrance than he could bear.

"Well. Moodiness, anxiety-- I don't know. Generally feeling crappy. Eventually, early stage contact starvation and then symptoms get worse from there and then extreme contact starvation until finally death."

That sounded horrible. Sungjong was no good at this.

"And now what do we do? What were you expecting from coming here?"

"I wasn't--" Sungjong started before Myungsoo's comment really hit him. He burned with the unspoken accusations from this stranger. How dare he. Sungjong stomped closer to him, ignoring the way Myungsoo's eyes widened, but he never stepped back. "I wasn't expecting anything when I came here. I just don't want to die of contact starvation. What, do you think I expected to meet my imprint yesterday? Do you think I planned this? Do I look like I've been plotting how to biologically bind mysterious stranger Kim Myungsoo to me in my spare time?"

Myungsoo blinked in surprise and Sungjong deflated with a huff. Instead of answering, Myungsoo's hand reached forward just barely to touch Sungjong's hand and they both groaned.

It was like instant relief. All of Sungjong's irritations and worries melted away and replaced themselves with a comforting feeling that he definitely already associated with Myungsoo.