TW: eating disorder/disordered eating (as always, pm me if you have to avoid this chapter because of the triggers) 

Over the next few days, Sanghyuk and Hongbin have to deal with an almost-bursting fridge. Taekwoon makes them food, and makes them almost too much. There are boxes and boxes of side dishes in the freezer, frozen rice cakes of every sort, chili and seasoning in little containers, cookies that he leaves in tins labelled ‘Sanghyuk’ and ‘Hongbin’, just so they don’t steal each other’s. Sanghyuk stealthily sneaks his own tin into his room in the middle of the night and doesn’t return it even when Hongbin teases him for being over-protective over the cookies.

Self-preservation is always more important, and Sanghyuk can take a little chiding if it means he doesn’t ever have to starve against his own will again.

Sanghyuk cooks a lot, in between washing the clothes and doing the dishes. He provides Hongbin with impeccable food when the older is busy with rifling through portfolios for new models and photoshoots. Sanghyuk gets better with eating – he feels better knowing exactly what is in the food, knowing just how much fat and oil there is.

The police station gets in touch with them (several times, too many times) and Sanghyuk tries to run away from what he did, what he had done without properly thinking it over – because reporting something like this means lawyers and courts and having to find himself all over again in the mess of people. His friends would probably all be repulsed – Taekwoon, Hakyeon, Niel. He’d have to start all over again, from ground zero, and he wonders if Hongbin will still be right with him if it happens… when it happens.

At first he’d been running from the things he could not do (Don’t try to act tough, Sanghyuk-ah. Don’t make them angry, don’t try to exist). Now he’s running from how easily he can do them.

He tries to run, because that’s how it has always been with him.

***

“The station keeps calling me, that detective – what’s his name, Park Kyosang – keeps reminding me about getting legal advice, like as if I don’t want to myself.” Hongbin runs a thumbnail along the creased edge of a magazine absentmindedly. “Of course I want to, but how do I, when Sanghyuk hasn’t been talking to anyone but me – legitimately, he hasn’t even spoken a word to Ravi. Just nods and gestures. The rest of the time he spends crying or reading. I just – It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

“Okay, but,” Hakyeon pauses, sending out an email. “I just contacted a friend, so you’ve got your legal advisor now. That’s one problem solved at least.”

Hongbin nods, then seemingly in a heat that warms over slowly, realizes what Hakyeon just said. “Who?”

“Lee Minki.”

“What the hell,” Hongbin flips the magazine shut and his words feel like they’ve been pulled out of his gut, burning in a fiery emotion through his esophagus. “ you.”

Hakyeon raises his eyebrows. “Umm… Don’t mention it?”

For a moment, Hongbin does not know what to say, until he does.

“Like, the best attorney in South Korea? The one that operates with a team of indomitable lawyers? I can’t afford that , hyung. You know that. My only financial backing got cut by my mother, I haven’t been able to afford decent things I want to afford, you can’t just call up someone and expect me to –”

“But I’m paying for it.”

Hongbin stuns.

“No.”

“Kong-ah,” Hakyeon sighs and leans back in his too-expensive chair. “In which universe are you not too proud to ask for money?”

Hongbin frowns at that one. “I can ask for money. But not if I can’t pay you back. I couldn’t, even if you advance my pay for a couple months, hyung!”

“I’m not lending you money. I’m giving it to Sanghyuk.” Hakyeon says firmly. “I’m your boss. I can do whatever I want.”

“That’s literally not how it works, hyung.” Hongbin rests his hands on Hakyeon’s too-expensive table, letting out a pointed sigh. “That’s literally the exact opposite of what a boss is.”

Then he looks up and sees Hakyeon tearing a check.

***

In the last few days, Hongbin has been trying to figure out how to tell Sanghyuk he wants to fight the case together. He rehearses the lines in the bathroom mirror (I want you to want to do this – You don’t have to do this if you can’t – I know you can – Hakyeon hyung got us a real good lawyer –) and makes lists of pros and cons at work, crumpling them up in frustration when they don’t make saying things any easier. Saying it in front of Sanghyuk never gets smoother, no matter how many times he practices. Hongbin had his stage fright trained out of him as a child but he has never been so nervous to just talk to someone.

His words keep crumpling on themselves.

And it’s not like he simply doesn’t know how to phrase it, he’s also incredibly terrified of starting a chain of events he might not want to start. He knows Sanghyuk is going to be knocked back to ground zero if he has to recount everything in front of the whole court. Hongbin’s mother is going to say something about the attention – he can almost see it on the headlines, CEO’S SON TOO RASH FOR HIS OWN GOOD? STUPIDITY OR COURAGE?  

Everything .

***

When Hongbin gets home, Sanghyuk is reading again. The Hare with Amber Eyes.

The sofa creaks as Sanghyuk puts down the book to greet Hongbin.

“Hello!” Hongbin puts all his clutter down. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, hyung.” Sanghyuk says. “Do you, um, do you want dinner now? I made doenjang-jjigae.”

“Yeah, sure!” Hongbin smiles. “What did you do today?”

Then the phone rings and Sanghyuk looks up, finally registering how tired Hongbin looks. Not in the eyebags-wrinkles type of way, but in the quietly-beaten-down one, as if he has been through days of storm with no umbrella nor rain boots to tide him through. The shrill tone of the phone slices through the air like a torrent of arrows.

Hongbin blinks once, twice, then goes to hang up the call. (It’s obviously the police station, because no one else calls the landline anymore.)

There is a silence and Hongbin barely looks at him when he says, “We need to talk about something.”

Sanghyuk doesn’t say anything. But when he does, his words come in an avalanche, an overwhelming outpoor. 

“Today, I woke up, and I made breakfast. I sent you out the door for work, and then I cleaned, I –”

At first, Hongbin doesn’t understand. “Hyuk-ah. I meant –”

“H – Hyung,” Sanghyuk says with a nervous insistence that Hongbin has never heard before. “I started reading The Hare with Amber Eyes, because Ravi hyung told me it was good and that I would like it. I went to shower, and when I came out I was crying again. B – Because I realized I can’t stop thinking about the police station. I can’t, I can’t stop thinking about what I did, how stupid I was –”

“It wasn’t stupid, Hyuk-ah,” Hongbin glides over to Sanghyuk, looking for a way to help but if there’s anything he knows after living so long together with the boy, its that there’s usually no way to save someone else from what they’re feeling.

“I k – know,” Sanghyuk swallows. “I know, and I also know I feel stupid for not regretting it.”   

There is a surprised pause and in that short space of time, Hongbin watches as the shivering in Sangyuk’s hands move up his forearms, to his shoulders, and into his glass bottle chest.

“I – I’ve – I’ve been, thinking. And I j – just, I’m not – not stupid, I know why I d – did it –”

Hongbin’s eyes get a little wider. He takes Sanghyuk by his waist to sit down at the table, and at first Sanghyuk starts, but he doesn’t think he can keep standing much longer. It takes way too much effort to even open his mouth without crying.

“I don’t k – know what to do,” Sanghyuk stutters. “I’m too scared. I can’t – can’t do it.”

“You can,” Hongbin leans forward. “You can, I know you can. It’s going to be so important for all of us, Hyuk-ah. For hundreds of people in this country. I need you to see this thorugh.”

Sanghyuk never thought this day would come, that he would be broken down to the ground with kindness. That his very foundation would dissolve with gentle words. If he says yes, then what happens next, if he can’t find anything to build that foundation back up? If he runs out of things to keep himself alive, runs out of things to tell himself to just hold on another day? If he says yes to this, nothing is ever going to be the same. If he says yes, he’s signing an agreement to surrender all of himself to the world, which doesn’t mean much, except now, he wants to say no. He shouldn’t be thinking about the possibility of saying no.

Hongbin has been so good to him, has been giving him so much, all the time, but now that he wants to take from Sanghyuk for the first time, is Sanghyuk really going to say no?

His breaths start getting shallow and frantic, like there’s holes in his lungs where air can escape, but he absolutely will not allow himself to dissociate right now.

Hongbin watches as Sanghyuk so desperately tries to take control. Sometimes he wonders how much  courage the boy exactly has in his small frame. Things like breathing, or eating, seem so simple and normal, but for Sanghyuk it’s an obstacle. Where a regular teenager would make a mess of the house, Sanghyuk folds and tucks everything into their place, sitting proper as if every second all he wants to do is to sink to his knees. He learns no thank you even as he’s battling night terrors. He learns how to write even if his hands shake so bad sometimes he cannot even pick up a pencil. He learns how to eat even as his body purges and wanes. He learns, even if on some days he’s entitled not to.

There is so much strength in Sanghyuk’s heart and so much pride in Hongbin’s.

But still, when Sanghyuk looks back at Hongbin, mouth set into a straight line, it’s nothing that he expects.

Sanghyuk growls, “I can’t talk about this now.”

Then he gets up even though his knees tremble slightly. And for the first time since Sanghyuk has gotten his room, he closes the door behind him.