A/n: I am done school forever! High school. University in seven months but that is seven months of writing! Woo. Anyways, enjoy! Also, thanks to heyybunnyy for creating me another awesome poster!

It was day fifty-seven that the call came in. Not that Minseok was counting. He counted it later.

When the phone rang at his work, he and Kyungsoo exchanged a glance – phone calls were pretty rare at their work. The person who called most was Joonmyun, and usually that meant it was important. Without discussion, Kyungsoo decided to answer the phone himself, putting on his bright, customer voice (that was what Jongin called it, because he only ever sounded like that when he talked to customers), but then a moment later he was serious, and then he was handing the phone to Minseok.

Minseok took it, frowning at Kyungsoo, but the boy said nothing, pretending to go back to work. But Minseok knew he was still listening.

“Hello?”

“Are you Kim Minseok?” The voice was stern but lifeless. Almost robotic.

“Um, yes?” Minseok replied uncertainly, although he knew that he indeed was Kim Minseok.

“You’re required at your family’s place of residence,” the voice told him. “Are you aware of where that is?”

Minseok could feel lines creasing in his forehead. “Yes,” he said, a bit sarcastically. Why wouldn’t he know where his family’s house was?

“Come immediately,” they told him, and then the line disconnected. Wait, what? That was it?

He turned off the phone, setting it down and staring at it for a minute, slowly processing. After a bit, he realized that that was the moment he’d been waiting for. That was his call. He jumped up, and received an odd look from Kyungsoo. When Minseok started untying his apron, Kyungsoo spoke up.

“What are you doing?”

“I just got called to my house,” Minseok explained. “I have to go and get Confirmed. I’ll message Joonmyun.” Kyungsoo scowled but said nothing else, and it wasn’t long before Minseok was hurrying out of the shop, calling, “See you later!” and then texting his boss. “Got my house call, have to leave work early.” Joonmyun would understand.

Going to his parent’s house was a fifteen-minute journey by bus, and Minseok was buzzing the whole way there. When he arrived, he was greeted first by guards at the doorway – to whom Minseok said hello, but they didn’t even look at him, so he supposed they weren’t there for socialization – and then by his parents when he knocked on the door. They looked slightly nervous, but happy to see him all the same.

The Confirmation process took hours. Minseok didn’t know why he thought it would be shorter. His phone was turned off and confiscated for the time being. They were questioned and questioned and questioned as a group, and had to bring up several documents of identification and such. Then there were individual interviews conducted, and then the guards convened to discuss the family’s fate. They came back shortly after with unreadable expressions, and announced that the family was safe from Category status. Their elation was short-lived when a tattooist was produced, and Minseok’s father was sat at the table, needles inking into his skin. Then it was Minseok’s mother, and then lastly Minseok himself, who endured the pain and tried to think about other things. This pain means I’ll be safe. No one else can hurt me. I won’t be killed. After a while, the pain blurred into simply irritation, and then it was over, only feeling sore.

Minseok glanced down at his arm, feeling his face pinch in displeasure at the sight of black crawling there. X326990143.

“What does the ‘X’ mean?” he wondered, looking to the guard that seemed to be in charge.

“Billion,” he stated. “Y is the second billion. Z is the third.” Minseok nodded, knowing the men didn’t want to waste any more time here, and not wanting to make any other families wait. His arm was wrapped in cloth as his parents’ had been. Then he and his parents thanked them and the men went, leaving the three alone. Minseok decided to stay for supper, because it was late and he was starving. His mother gave him the leftovers when they were done for him to have another night, and then he was sent on his way home.

His thoughts were too preoccupied by his Confirmation until the moment he reached his apartment door, noticing the light under the crack and finally remembering Luhan. He hadn’t told the boy about his call. He’d been too excited to even think of anything else, and then they’d taken his phone away, and when they’d given it back he’d forgotten to turn it back on.

He walked into his apartment, seeing the television on the news channel, but Luhan wasn’t on the couch or even in the living room. Minseok kicked off his shoes, going to the kitchen to drop off the food his mother had given him on the counter, and then he called out for Luhan. Faintly, he heard Luhan speak, and then his balcony door creaked open and the boy was skidding into the room, eyes wide.

“Where did you go?” he asked, and Minseok thought, by the weakness of his voice and the red of his eyes that Luhan might have been crying earlier. “I went to your work and they said you weren’t there. I’ve been calling you, and anyone who might’ve known where you were. Why was your phone off?” There was a cord of distress in his words, and it struck guilt in Minseok. He’d gone without any notice, and with the way things were in the world right now… There was no doubt Luhan had been worried. Why wouldn’t he have been?

To answer the boy, Minseok pulled off his sweater and raised his arm. “I got called today,” he explained. “I should’ve let you know, but it just… completely slipped my mind.”

Luhan was speechless for a moment, staring at Minseok’s wrapped arm. “Really?” He stepped forward, holding out his hands for Minseok to place his arm in. Minseok obeyed, and Luhan pulled up the material, causing the other to pull his arm back in pain. “Sorry!” Luhan apologized hurriedly, taking his arm gently again. He only revealed the last four digits, but this seemed to satisfy him, and he gave a nod. “That’s…”

“Appalling?” Minseok suggested. He didn’t like these tattoos. He didn’t understand why they thought it was a good idea.

“A bit,” Luhan admitted. “But it’s good. You’re Confirmed. That’s a good thing.” His voice was less cheerful than he was going for, because this was all still terrible, and also because Luhan still wasn’t safe.

“You’ll be next,” Minseok assured him, and Luhan finally dragged his eyes away from Minseok’s wrist to meet his eyes. “Don’t worry. They’re gonna call you soon.”

“I know,” Luhan said quietly, doubt buried in his eyes. He was still scared, and Minseok guessed he would be until he was bearing his own ink mark. But he pushed that down, brightening back to his happy self so they could pretend not to worry. “For now, though, we have a bigger problem.” Minseok raised an eyebrow, and Luhan patted his own stomach. “I am going to die of hunger. Please tell me you have something for me to eat.”

Minseok laughed, and pulled the boy to his kitchen, preparing – well, microwaving – his mother’s meal.

“You are so hopeless without me,” Minseok told him. Luhan grinned.

“I really am. I don’t know what I’d do if I was away from you for more than a day.”

“Starve to death,” Minseok teased. “That’s gonna be it for you. I’m gonna go on vacation one day and I’ll come back and you’ll be gone, and there’ll be a tombstone instead. And it’s gonna say, ‘Kim Luhan; cause of death: Minseok didn’t make food for him.’ You are seriously worse than a puppy.”

“But I’m also cuter than a puppy,” Luhan pointed out, and Minseok rolled his eyes.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“I will. Until I found someone to say it for me,” he winked.

“Mhm,” Minseok sounded under his breath, and Luhan smacked him.

“Why are you so mean to me?” Luhan whined jokingly.

“You’d be mean to you if you had to put up with you too,” Minseok told him. “Gosh, that was a lot of ‘you’s in one sentence.” The microwave beeped, and he pulled out the dish, dropping it down on the counter. Luhan’s hands reached for it, and Minseok chastised, “That is hot. Be careful.”

“Yes, mother,” Luhan mocked him. They moved to the table, and Luhan began eating immediately. “Oh, you might want to text Baekhyun,” he said in the midst of a spoonful of rice. “I called him earlier and freaked him out, I think. Don’t even roll your eyes,” he added as Minseok did. “You’re the one who went missing and didn’t tell me like the terrible best friend you are. He sounded upset though anyway. Him and Chanyeol are really not doing well, huh?”

Minseok frowned. “But, he said they were doing better…” he muttered, pulling out his phone and turning it on. Baekhyun had said less than two weeks ago that things between him and Chanyeol had been a lot better, thanks to Minseok’s advice. (“I don’t want to know!” Minseok had texted him when Baekhyun brought it up.) He and Luhan sat in silence for a minute, and only the sounds of the television filtered through the air. He wasn’t really listening at first, but then something caught his attention.

“- attacked in Seoul. This is part of a pattern of attacks happening recently around the globe at an attempt of resistance by the public against the United Nations’ solution to overpopulation. Haji Yang has more.”

It cut to a reporter in the streets. “Earlier this afternoon, there were several pre-planned attacks made on government workers while patrolling the streets of Seoul. Behind me is the site of the successful murder of a guard who was in one of the assaults…”  Minseok’s eyes widened. People were lashing out and killing guards now? And Baekhyun was upset; did that mean Chanyeol had been involved?

His phone finally booted up, and a string of messages came in. One from Joonmyun, okaying his leave from work; a couple from other friends Luhan must have contacted, wondering if Minseok was alright; four from Baekhyun, seemingly distressed.

“Where are you? Why can’t Luhan get a hold of you?”
“Answer your phone. Why is it turned off??”
“Hyung, are you okay? This is serious, I’m worried. I’m already freaking out because of Chanyeol, don’t you add to this…”
“Minseok. Please tell me you’re okay… Minseok, I mean it. Message me, please…”

And a message from Chanyeol, the most recent one Minseok had received.

“Hey hyung, Baekhyun and I are really worried about you. Luhan said you weren’t at work, and you’re supposed to be, and no one else knows where you are… Just let us know you’re alright, okay?”

So Chanyeol was okay. Minseok wondered if he’d been attacked at all, but supposed Baekhyun would be worried either way. If people were going after the guards now… That wouldn’t go over well with Baekhyun.

“Why didn’t Kyungsoo tell you where I’d gone?” Minseok muttered to Luhan.

“He wasn’t in there when I went,” Luhan told him. “I guess the shifts got switched over before I went to check on you, so no one suspected you had left. I don’t know why I didn’t think of you getting called to your parent’s place.”

Minseok sighed. “I’m gonna call Baekhyun, let them know I’m alright and see if everything’s okay with Chanyeol, too.” He gestured at the TV screen to show what he meant, and Luhan nodded. Then Minseok pulled up Baekhyun’s contact on his phone and called the number. It took a few rings for the boy to answer, and when he did, he sounded very groggy.

“Hmm?”

“It’s Minseok.”

“Hyung!” The boy on the other end of the line seemed to be pulled into alertness. “Are you okay?” Minseok heard Chanyeol asking who it was. “It’s Minseok hyung. What happened to you!?”

“I’m sorry, Baek,” Minseok told him first. “I got Confirmed today.”

There was a pause. “Oh,” Baekhyun said finally. “That’s great, hyung! I was really scared you’d gotten snatched by Categories or something.”

“I heard on the news, about them fighting guards,” Minseok said, reminded by Baekhyun’s words. “Was Chanyeol involved? Is he alright?”

“It wasn’t him,” Baekhyun assured. “I called him as soon as I heard about it, but he was fine. Did you want to talk to him?”

“That’s alright, just say hi for me,” Minseok said. “I’d say tell him to be careful, but you’ve probably already done that.” Baekhyun laughed. “Anyway, were you guys sleeping? You sounded out of it when you answered the phone.” Minseok couldn’t imagine why they would be sleeping this early, but he supposed the stress on Baekhyun today may have tired him out.

“Uh, sort of,” Baekhyun answered carefully. “We were, um, relaxing after a… long, hard-”

“Woah, wait, back up!” Minseok interrupted. “I think I understand and I definitely do not want to hear anything more, thank you.” Of course that was it. In his innocence, he had forgotten how far less-than-innocent his dongsaengs were, and the more likely reason for his friend’s exhaustion which, really, he should have seen coming.

“Hey, it’s thanks to you that we’re having again.”

“Yeah, but I don’t need to know that.” Minseok pulled a face that he wished Baekhyun could see (although he was glad Baekhyun couldn’t see it, because he didn’t want to be in the room with Baekhyun when the boy was in the state he no doubt was right now with his boyfriend). Luhan, who was watching in amusement, only hearing half of the conversation but undoubtedly piecing together what was happening, did get to see Minseok’s face however, and laughed.

“Was that Luhan?” Baekhyun asked, and in the background Chanyeol called, “Get laid, hyung, seriously!” while Baekhyun was saying hi to Luhan enthusiastically.

“Baekhyun says hi,” Minseok told Luhan, and Luhan offered a smile.

“Baekhyun says have with Minseok,” Baekhyun said loudly. “Tell him that.”

“No! Remember the part where not all of us are gay? And I’m one of those not-gay people? And I’m pretty sure Luhan is also one of those not-gay people,” Minseok added, and Luhan had to look away, grinning.

“Put him on the phone, and let me ask him myself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Baekhyun whined. “It’s because he is gay, and you guys are banging-”

“Ugh!” Minseok held out his cell to Luhan. “Please confirm to him that our lives are not intertwined and that I am not gay for you,” he groaned. Luhan took the phone, chuckling.

“Baekhyun? Hi. Yes, we are gay for each other and we’re having every single day!” Luhan jumped up out of Minseok’s reach as the boy tried to tackle him, and then Minseok was chasing him around the apartment, yelling in vain.

“It’s not true! He’s a liar and a terrible person! You are a terrible person Luhan, and I will never trust you again. Stop feeding the child’s already grotesque imagination!”

Finally, Luhan got the couch between them, and then held up a finger to silence the older for a moment.

“Yeah? No… No, he’s not. … Yes. He doesn’t. No. No, no, that’s – no. Okay. Bye.”

He tossed Minseok the phone, and Minseok held it to his ear. “He’s lying,” he said immediately. “Whatever you asked, he’s lying.”

Baekhyun’s voice sounded more solemn when he spoke. “That’s too bad, hyung.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing, really. I’m gonna go, ‘kay?”

Minseok sighed. “Okay.”

“Love you.”

“You too, Baek.”

The line disconnected, and Minseok felt unsatisfied with his unanswered question. It hung over him, making him wonder if he’d said something wrong. Had he hurt Baekhyun’s feelings? He’d just been joking around. Baekhyun knew that, right?

He heaved another sigh, plunking down onto the couch and tracing the cloth on his wrist thoughtlessly. Meanwhile, Luhan returned to the table to finish his meal, appetite lost. Minseok didn’t notice how put out the boy seemed.

“

Jongin was gone when Kyungsoo woke up. He left without saying anything, without leaving a note, nothing. But he came home that night as if it were completely normal, and Kyungsoo supposed it didn’t matter. There wasn’t a contract, or any rules that Jongin had to follow. He walked in, and didn’t smell like anything recent, just the lingering odors that always clouded on him. Dropping down his backpack on the couch, he told Kyungsoo he was going to shower, ping his sweater as he sauntered to the bathroom. Kyungsoo didn’t speak to him, pulling out the meal he’d made earlier, when he’d thought Jongin would have come back in time for dinner. Kyungsoo had waited for an hour, telling himself he was allowed to go ahead and eat without him, but still watching the clock as it ticked, ticked, ticked.  Around seven, he reheated the food and ate it. Now it was past ten. Kyungsoo put the second plate in the microwave, and then a moment later he was setting it on the table and retreating to his room.

The only interaction he had with Jongin for the rest of the night was listening – well, hearing, not intentionally listening – to the boy moving around in his apartment. Jongin came out of the bathroom after showering, and then his footsteps moved into the dining room, and Kyungsoo picked up a quiet laugh. There were the sounds of eating, spoon scraping against a bowl, Jongin groaning quietly in pleasure at the taste. Then Jongin was going to the kitchen, rinsing the bowl in the sink, before heading to the couch. The television sounded, its volume turned down to a whisper, and Kyungsoo could make out the murmur of late-night news. There would likely be reports about the death toll and whatnot. That was all the news talked about nowadays. Why was Jongin watching that? Not that he did for long, because the buzz of the TV was gone after a few moments.

Kyungsoo lay in his bed, trying to go off to sleep since he had work the next day. But, as with the previous night, soon the sounds of crying came through the crack under Kyungsoo’s door. Jongin was crying again.

When he woke up in the morning, he went to the kitchen, but as he passed through the living room, his eyes were drawn to the figure sleeping on the couch. Kyungsoo was taken off guard by the sight, the other’s chest somewhat revealed, and apparently he slept shirtless. (Kyungsoo later found out the boy only slept in his boxers.) Jongin’s eyes were closed, dark and puffy. Kyungsoo didn’t bother to wake him up.

This cycle repeated. Day after day, night after night. Jongin leaving when he awoke, not coming back until very late. They worked together a few times, and it was no different than it had been before, but it felt awkward to Kyungsoo. Because the younger was sleeping on his couch, going to sleep crying every night. And Jongin didn’t know Kyungsoo heard him, because Kyungsoo hadn’t confronted him about it. But after a week, Kyungsoo couldn’t handle it anymore. Maybe he didn’t like Jongin, but he wasn’t letting him continue to be so pathetic like that.

It was close to eleven-thirty at night. Kyungsoo slipped out of his bedroom and into the hallway, ears perked. Jongin was sniffling, breath ragged as usual. Kyungsoo bit down on his plump lower lip and stepped forward, avoiding the creaky spots on the floor. He stopped where the hall opened into the living room, and then stood hesitantly for a moment, looking at the faintly lit up silhouette of the boy resting on his couch, blanket thrown loosely over him. Light was dimly reflecting in Jongin’s eyes, and on shimmering lines down the boy’s face.

Kyungsoo cleared his throat softly. “Jongin?” The other jumped, the two dots of light shifting. “Are, um… are you alright?”

Jongin’s response, though he was clearly taken off guard, was cold, curt, and there was only the slightest waver in his voice. “I’m fine.” Kyungsoo didn’t need any more than that, nodding and hurrying back to his bedroom. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, okay.

The next morning, the pair acted as if Kyungsoo had never said anything. However, it was still unusual because for once, Jongin did stay around long enough to speak to Kyungsoo.

“I won’t be staying here anymore,” he said quietly as he pulled on his jacket. It was raining out, and Jongin pulled his sweater’s hood over his head to protect himself against it. “I – found somewhere else.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo replied. “Good.” He didn’t bother to ask where. Maybe he’d gotten a new dealer willing to take him in. It wasn’t Kyungsoo’s concern. When Jongin walked out, Kyungsoo figured that was it.

He didn’t come back that night. He wasn’t there the next morning. That was fine. Kyungsoo could return to his schedule, without the drug-addict messing things up.

That only lasted one day. Jongin left Thursday morning. Friday night – actually, it might have been early Saturday; it was close to one in the morning – Kyungsoo was awakened by the boy knocking on his apartment door. He was irritable at being woken up, but when he opened the door, that changed. It had rained on and off the past two days, and evidently Jongin had been outside for a lot of it, because he looked soaked through. His eyes were bloodshot, but as watery as the rest of him seemed to be. The exchange of words between them occurred silently between a glance; Kyungsoo could tell Jongin didn’t want to talk, and he probably couldn’t if he wanted to anyway. Not without crying. So instead, Kyungsoo just let the door open wide and Jongin came in.

And that was it. While Jongin went off to the bathroom, Kyungsoo wanted to go to bed, but instead he began preparing something for the other to eat. Cooking some rice, throwing chicken into a pan, cutting up some vegetables. Not entirely awake, his knife did end up slipping a few times, and once he nicked his finger, but he didn’t even notice at first. It wasn’t until he was wiping his hands on a paper towel that he spotted the red and checked his hand, seeing the small cut there and quickly washing it off.

Jongin came out of the bathroom after having showered, while Kyungsoo was still cooking. He asked the older what he should do with his drenched clothes – which, really, was all of his clothes. His backpack hadn’t done much to shield the contents within it. He was wearing the driest pair of boxers he had, but otherwise he had nothing.

“Just... hang things in the bathroom,” Kyungsoo uttered, not looking away from the vegetables as he began tossing them into the pan. Soon he had a bowl of rice, and was pouring the contents of the pan on top. He left it at one spot on his small table, and sat at the other place, yawning. He really wanted to go to bed. But he needed to talk with Jongin.

When he was finished hanging up his clothes, Jongin came back to the living room, and then made for the dining table. He watched Kyungsoo suspiciously, and Kyungsoo evaded looking back at him, because a lot of Jongin’s skin was exposed and he didn’t want to stare – or at least, he didn’t want Jongin to think he was staring. Jongin sat down, eyes moving to the bowl of chicken and rice, and then back to Kyungsoo.

“Are you going to lecture me?” he asked softly, not even bothering with a facade. Kyungsoo didn’t mind. The tough act didn’t suit the boy anyway.

“You weren’t staying anywhere,” Kyungsoo stated. Jongin took a bite, and then shrugged weakly. And you’re not okay.

“I didn’t want to be – bothering you anymore.”

“Worked well, didn’t it?” Kyungsoo told him sarcastically. Jongin’s eyes dropped. “You… did you… I hear you, you know. When you cry. I think…” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he was doing. Kyungsoo must have been tired, because he wanted to reach out to Jongin. “Just – Jongin, did you want to, uh, talk to me?”

Jongin choked on a mouthful of rice. “Did I hear that right?” he asked. “Do Kyungsoo, trying to be my shoulder to cry on? That’s hilarious.”

“I’m losing sleep at night listening to you,” Kyungsoo said in his defense. “If I can, just – do something...”

“Can you bring him back?” Jongin mumbled, not looking up. Kyungsoo offered a quiet no. “Then no. You’re already – you’re doing enough. Thank you.” The last words were nearly inaudible.

That was it then. Kyungsoo didn’t have the power to bring Jongin’s dead friend back to him. If that’s what was making the boy suffer so much, Kyungsoo couldn’t help. But he thought he understood, a little bit, why Jongin was so miserable.

“It, um…” Kyungsoo swallowed hard, coughing. “It’s not so bad, after a while. To lose someone.” He wasn’t sure why he offered the words to the younger. Because he didn’t need Jongin to keep adding stress to his life, he supposed. “Just – when they’re gone… there’s not much you can do.” He stood, deciding it would be best to leave Jongin alone, like he always did. He really wasn’t any good at this.

As he reached his bedroom door, he heard Jongin muttering something, but Kyungsoo decided the boy was just talking to himself. It was a confession Kyungsoo was ignoring.

“There’s so much more… I’m scared… I’m going to end up like him. You don’t understand how hard this is…”

According to Kyungsoo’s alarm clock, it was now going on two in the morning. Back in his bed, he watched the line of light crawling under his door until it vanished, ten or so minutes later. Unable to fall asleep, becoming hypersensitive, he listened, just waiting for the quiet sounds he had really expected the past two nights and hadn’t heard. It was amazing how quickly he’d gotten used to Jongin’s faint sobs lulling him to sleep. Yet at first, when they didn’t come, Kyungsoo thought maybe he wasn’t going to hear them anymore. Five minutes passed, ten. Kyungsoo closed his eyes, and a feeling of – was it relief? – flurried through him. A few more restless minutes passed though, for Kyungsoo kept waiting, and finally, there was a muffled, held-back sob.

It was so subtle Kyungsoo thought it wasn’t real, but then it was accompanied by another, and then more followed. He felt the hair on his arms rising, and something in him clicked – or rather, cracked. The wall he’d built up over the past two years faltered at the overpowering sympathy that rippled through him, and he for a moment, feeling got through to him. And he let it.

Gathering up his blanket, he bundled himself into it and once again moved out to his living room. He switched on the light, and for a second saw Jongin’s face buried in his pillow, which he must have retrieved from the closet where Kyungsoo had returned it the previous day. He was also hiding under his own blanket. But when the light came on, he looked up and saw Kyungsoo, wrapped like a burrito and waddling towards the television. His crying ceased, and Kyungsoo was surprised Jongin didn’t laugh at the sight. Kyungsoo sat down in front of the TV, opening the cupboard beneath it and revealing several DVD cases stacked on shelves.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Kyungsoo asked lightly. He shuffled some cases around, revealing a second row of movies behind the first, and then a third behind that. The third row consisted of only one thing though, and that was Pokémon. Many, many box sets of Pokémon, plus movies. Pokémon movies, episodes. No posters or action figures or cards. But this was a secret of Kyungsoo’s. He happened to like Pokémon.

No one knew that. Not one person.

Jongin didn’t even say anything about it. Just an “Okay,” in response to Kyungsoo’s question. The older popped the disc out of its case and slid it into his DVD player. In a moment, he had the whole thing set up, and was tottering back to the couch. Jongin sat up to make room for him, and they just stayed there, watching the animated movie. They didn’t speak, or even really acknowledge each other. And even though Kyungsoo only got twenty minutes in before he fell asleep, he felt better. Because he wasn’t leaving Jongin alone.

He wasn’t going to let Jongin be like him.

“

Minseok was in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, another in his hands trying to massage the water out of his hair. Without warning, he heard the door open and felt arms being thrown around him, pulling him in to an excited hug. Minseok pulled the towel off his head and saw Luhan’s hair, and the back of the pajama-cloaked boy in the mirror.

“Luhan, what..?”

The boy was bouncing slightly, and then he pulled back, eyes shining. “My mom just called me.”

That could mean a few things. Luhan didn’t really get along with his parents. But the excitement radiating off Luhan was making Minseok think-

“I’m going to China. I’m gonna get Confirmed!”

Luhan took hold of Minseok’s tattooed wrist absently, and with one arm, the older pulled him back into a hug.

“Good. That’s good,” Minseok croaked, somewhat stunned. He’s gonna be safe. He’s finally gonna be safe.

“I could kiss you right now.” The words pulled the older back together a bit. Luhan would make jokes at a time like this.

“Don’t,” Minseok chuckled, but he squeezed Luhan tighter. “When are you going?”

“As soon as I can,” Luhan said. “This week. I’ll buy a plane ticket tomorrow.” He pulled on Minseok’s wrist, dragging him out of the bathroom – switching off the light as he went – and to Minseok’s bedroom. In the dark, Minseok felt Luhan’s hand move to his waist, slipping the towel off him. Minseok’s mouth felt dry, but Luhan just jerked him down onto the bed. “Don’t worry about clothes, just get in here.”

When they were under the covers, Luhan’s arms wrapped around Minseok’s neck. He curled into the older, heart beating loudly in his chest, hardly able to contain himself at the idea of safety. He wanted to celebrate. Because neither of them would have to worry anymore. Not about being killed, at least.

But he couldn’t celebrate. Not with his best friend. Not the way he wanted to. So he just held on to the other, pressed his body against him and greedily tried to steal the warmth and security he gave off.

Luhan could handle that. For now.

A/n: Everyone's safe... for now. Many secrets, comment if you caught any of them. I counted at least three. One with Luhan, one with Jongin, one with Kyungsoo. I've been dropping hints about Kyungsoo's past for a while. What am I not saying? I'd love to hear theories about him and the other two. (Some I think are more obvious than others. I don't think it'd be too hard to figure them all out. But then, I'm the author.)