Youngsaeng awoke with a start, heart pounding and wrenching painfully; the sides of his eyes were tight with dried salt and dirt from where tears had leaked out in the middle of the night. He closed his eyes, curling up more as he tried to get his heart back under control, casting that memory back into the deep recesses of his mind, trying to ignore the ache from the absence of a familiar hold and pair of comforting, warm lips. He'd thought himself used to it by now. Why was he suddenly missing him again?

Finally calming down, Youngsaeng suddenly realised that there had been an odd prickling in his neck; a prickling that was born from the feeling of someone watching him. The person was close; very close: hovering over him kind of close.

Mind whirling, Youngsaeng remained in his position, pretending to go back to sleep. He felt the person pause then move closer, as if to inspect if he’d really fallen back asleep. And when that person was close enough, Youngsaeng’s hand shot out, grabbing the person’s collar. And in one smooth move, he had the person pinned under him, hand pressing down on the person’s throat.

“Ack- Hyung! Stop! It’s me!”

Youngsaeng blinked, staring down at the familiar face in front of him in confusion. “...Hyungjoon? What are you doing here?!”

“I… I got caught by the Fallen.” Hyungjoon’s face fell. “I… well… I just… anyway, how I got caught wasn’t important- You! How… You’re alive, Hyung! I can’t believe it. You’re really alive!”

“I… what?” Youngsaeng blinked, letting go of his hold on Hyungjoon, sitting the younger up. “Of course I’m alive. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, other than the fact that I attended your funeral? There was a public execution for you. And they sent us... “ Hyungjoon looked away, “they sent us your body after.”

Youngsaeng blinked harder, staring at Hyungjoon as if he’d gone mad. “What?”

“Hey! Don’t look at me like that. I thought I was crazy when they threw me into this room and there you are, sleeping on the bed like I didn’t see your coffin lowered into the ground just a couple of days ago.” Hyungjoon let out a pent up breath, looking as if he was going to cry.

Youngsaeng scooted off of Hyungjoon, rubbing his face and trying to make sense of this mess. “... So… everyone thinks I’m dead.”

“Yeah… pretty much.” Hyungjoon’s voice suddenly skipped, and Youngsaeng looked up to see that expression on Hyungjoon’s face - the one that he and Hyunjoong always pretended didn’t affect them but always did. “I… you’re really alive right, hyung? This isn’t a dream… right?”

"No..." Youngsaeng sighed, hesitating a little before pulling him into a hug. "This isn't a dream. I'm really alive."

Hyungjoon sank into the hug, sniffling a little and trying to joke to cover it up. "You sure? Youngsaeng-hyung would throttle me first before hugging me."

"I already did if you forgot, brat." But Youngsaeng was smiling, hug tightening.

"Oh yeah," he could hear Hyungjoon's grin and was about to tease the younger more when the door suddenly opened.

Youngsaeng pulled away quickly, eyeing the man standing at the entrance. He was dressed in the same uniform of the same high rank as Reaper and Wraith, but he'd never seen this man before. Which was weird, because of all people he should have known who this person was: he was the one who kept an eye on all the activities of the higher ups after all.

"Heo Youngsaeng, Kim Hyungjoon? Great. Come with me."
 

Youngsaeng stared at the cup he was given with a barrage of mixed emotions. It was a normal enough tea cup. A little feminine for his taste with the delicate china and the rose patterns, and the tea that wafted from it had a distinctive floral scent, but well, nothing abnormal about it.

What was abnormal though, was that he was smack in the middle of a high security Fallen compound and the high-ranked agent who had retrieved him just minutes ago from his high security cell was now laying out what looked like jam biscuits on a place, atop a dainty lace dolly.

Hyungjoon looked as confused as he felt, but he was pretty sure that he had his poker face right now so he didn’t look like a fish caught out of water. Neither of them was drinking their tea, of course. The chance that it might be poisoned or had some kind of strange chemical in it was extremely high.

“It’s not poisoned.”

Hyungjoon visibly jumped at the sudden statement, as if he’d just been caught thinking that very thought. Youngsaeng was amused despite himself. Hyungjoon still had as bad a poker face as ever.

“Well, it doesn’t matter how good a poker face you have. I’m a psychic whose skills include telepathy and empathy, and unfortunately, most mental shield can’t keep me out even though I want them too, so it’s really noisy in my head most of the time. But oh, don’t worry. I try to keep my reading to surface level, and I’m told I have a very even temperament so it takes a lot of annoy me.”

Youngsaeng froze at that. A psychic with telepathy and empathy? That meant the full scale of the mental ESP range. Even Hyungjoon knew what that meant, clueless as he was. And he stiffened in the wake of that revelation.

"Oh posh." The agent rolled his eyes, "I'm not going to do anything to either of you. And stop imagining yourself dying in numerous horrible ways before I puke my lunch out."

"Now," the agent sat down beside them, putting the biscuits down on the low table they were sitting around, before picking his own cup of tea up and taking a long drink. "Ah… that hits the spot. Where was I? Ah, yes, we have some important business to discuss. I'd like to apologise to you especially, Youngsaeng-sshi. I'd have rectified the situation earlier, but I was away and only just got back."

Situation? Well, it certainly was a ‘situation’. Between everything that had happened, if nothing else, they certainly would have a situation.

“No need to be sarcastic, Youngsaeng-sshi.” The agent raised an eyebrow. “But what I meant by a situation is me letting someone else handle explaining what’s going on and they totally botch it up.”

“Explain what?” Hyungjoon asked, and the agent turned to look at him with a small smile. “Well, you wouldn’t believe me if I explained it. But maybe you would if it came from him. Come in, Yesung.”

Youngsaeng frowned, body tense as the door opened again. Then, it went slack in confusion, because the man who stepped in, with sheepish expression, was the last person he would have expected to be there. Besides him, he could hear the drag of the chair as Hyungjoon stood up in surprise, a soft whine of disbelief escaping the younger. “J-jongwoon-hyung?”

“Hey…” Yesung, or Jongwoon as Youngsaeng had known him, scratched his head, “uhm… How’s it going? Saeng… Joonie.”

“B-but… you’re dead.” Hyungjoon stuttered, “you… you’re… a wraithling- I… just… fought against you last week. You were… cold… and there was this… evil… look in your eyes… You had cataracts.”

The unknown agent snorted even as Jongwoon scratched his head sheepishly. “Uh, yes. Well. It’s an illusion.” Jongwoon fumbled with something around his belt, and there was a small snapping sound, and suddenly, Jongwoon’s appearance was that which Youngsaeng had become familiar with in recent times - papery dead skin and sunken complexion, white milky eyes and stiff looking features. Then, Jongwoon touched his belt again and he was back to looking like a regular human. “See?”

There was a soft thud as Hyungjoon fell back onto his seat. Youngsaeng risked a look at the younger’s expression - it was as bewildered as Youngsaeng felt. He didn’t know what to make of this, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He stood up. “What the is this Jongwoon? You died. We’ve been fighting you for more than two years. And now you tell us it’s a ing illusion.”

Jongwoon’s face fell, even as the agent stood, blocking Youngsaeng from going over and decking Jongwoon like he wanted, hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, this is exactly what we’re trying to explain: it’s an illusion. Everything is an illusion.”

Hyungjoon didn't understand, as was evident for his expression. But Youngsaeng, adept in piecing even the most scattered and slim pieces of information into a full picture, understood. And his legs wobbled, unable to support him as he collapsed back into the chair. "What?"

The agent’s lips thinned, “yeah. This whole war, the Fallen wanting to take over the world, the ideals the Fallen follows… everything is a staged illusion. Has been, ever since this all started many generations ago.”

Youngsaeng closed his eyes, feeling migraine building, and besides him, Hyungjoon still hadn’t gotten it, and was shaking his head in confusion. “Wait, wait, wait. You mean. Wait. It’s a staged illusion? What does that even mean?”

“It’s means, Hyungjoon, that all our anguish and suffering that we’ve had in this war, all the grief from losing friends and family, all the pain from fighting, from training, even our bloody reason for being in this fight, everything has been for nothing!"

There was an awkward silence then, Hyungjoon still trying to puzzle out all the implications of this revelation, and the agent, sensing the cold rage that Youngsaeng was now in, pursed his lips but said nothing. Youngsaeng's fist tightened and he was about to hurl more accusations when Jongwoon suddenly spoke up.

"It wasn't for nothing, Saeng. All this... wasn't started for 'nothing'."

"Then what was it for?" Youngsaeng retorted, tone sharper than he intended it to be.

"For uniting the mundane and espers together. To stop the bloodshed and prejudice that had once been the social norm." Jongwoon said quietly, looking down at his hands. "That was why the Fallen was formed and why it operates to this day."

Both Youngsaeng and Hyungjoon froze, Youngsaeng sitting back down, his brain hurting from the amount of worldview shattering information he'd just received.

"...'Adu 'Aduyi Hooweh Ssadikki." The agent said quietly after a period of time. "'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'. That is the situation that the agents of the Fallen strive to create. Our goal is to make ourselves an enemy that mundanes and espers have to work together to defeat, and in that forced cooperation, get to know one another, and from tolerance hopefully breed friendships and camaraderie. And with that, bring unity and peace. It's been our goal since the concept of the Fallen was proposed to a select group of people before the first purge. And it's been our goal ever since."

"So what you're saying..." Hyungjoon said slowly, "...is that the Fallen was a lie made in order for us to hate the Fallen, so that we'll focus our hate on you... Rather than each other?"

The agent's lips curled, "yes, if you want to be blunt about it." Youngsaeng saw that his eyes flickered to Jongwoon for a split second.

"If that's the case, why haven't you stopped? After the first Great War, the mundanes and espers stopped hating each other. You could have ended it there." Hyungjoon protested, but even before the agent could reply, Youngsaeng knew the reason why.

"Because people are forgetful," Youngsaeng's voice was soft. "They need constant reminders."

"Yes. Exactly." the agent sighed. "Our predecessors did stop after the first time round, but then after a while, they noticed resentment between espers and mundanes growing again. With every generation it's the same game with minor differences, and we have to gather different people to suit the needs of that generation. It's getting harder though. People get smarter and information gets shared around faster and faster. We can't just dump one uber bad guy for everyone to blindly direct their hate anymore. We need to make it personal now."

Youngsaeng was beginning to see where this was going now. But he didn't want to. It would mean shattering prejudices that had kept him afloat all these years, and without them he didn't know how he wouldn't collapse.

But the situation wasn't giving him much of a choice. And of all people, it was Hyungjoon who said it out first: one of the rare times he was keeping up with the conversation. "Wait, is that why... Jongwoon was brought here?"

The agent glanced at Jongwoon, who smiled a little. "Apparently so? I never knew until after I came here, but I had popularity with both mundane and esper members of the Alliance, and making me into a wraith would have motivated both sides to work together to avenge my death. It supposedly worked, although I'm doubtful."

Youngsaeng wasn't. Jongwoon had been one of those unexpected people who'd risen through the ranks of the Alliance. The hapless and unassuming man was an effective fighter with a strong grasp on his ability despite his clumsiness. He'd inspired many a member of the Alliance in his day, somehow having the unique ability to get people to work together. So many had rallied together, trying to avenge him when he'd been turned into a wraithling. Even the most unexpected, such as Jongwoon’s two ex-team members, Ryeowook and Kyuhyun, an esper and mundane respectively. Before Jongwoon's supposed death, the two of them were like cats and dogs, and would probably have killed each other if not for Jongwoon’s intervention. The two had drawn close to each other after Jongwoon's death and they certainly weren't killing each other anymore, if the noises coming from their now shared room were any indication. Their change in stance towards each other had affected the views of the many Alliance members under them. Youngsaeng could see why what had been done had been done.

"Is that why Youngsaeng-hyung is here too?" Hyungjoon had piped up, looking at Youngsaeng.

"Actually, no. He was a... unforeseen addition." the agent smiled, "he got a little too close to the truth and we had no choice but to bring him in: which was why it took so long for us to have this conversation. You, however, we brought according to plan and schedule."

Hyungjoon blinked, pointing at himself. "Me?"

"Yes. It's coming to a new generation again, and your brother is smack in the middle of influence." The agent explained, "however, he's pretty headstrong. So, to move him... We're going to have to move you."

"But I... I'm a mundane." Hyungjoon looked dazed. "The Fallen are all about esper superiority. You want to kill all mundanes and the espers that help them."

"Another illusion," the agent replied. "If we were going to be able to be better than espers and mundanes combined, we couldn't have survived with just espers. Technology is a very powerful thing. Just look at the jammers. Our anti-jamming technology was invented by a mundane. You might know him actually - Wraith."

"Wraith is a mundane?" Hyungjoon squeaked. And even Youngsaeng found it hard to believe. Reaper's partner, who was such a terrible force of destruction, was a mundane?

"Yes." the agent's lips quirked. "Our best weapon's specialist. Heck. Everything he uses was something he invented himself."

"Oh," Hyungjoon still seemed rather stunned. "Oh..."

"Yeah." the agent agreed, "so... what all this has been leading up to is that I’d like to ask if you two would like to join our cause. We still have to work out the details of exactly what that will be, although I have a few ideas to suggest… but you can refuse, of course. We'd just erase your memory and put you back where you were. Although, Youngsaeng will be trickier, seeing as you're dead and all. But I'm sure we can work something out-"

"Can I just ask something?" Youngsaeng suddenly stood up, unable to hold it in anymore. "Reaper- Hyunjoong. He was approached by you too?"

"...Well, not by me exactly, but yeah."

"Why?"

"...I thought the reason would be obvious." the agent's eyebrow rose. And he leaned back, a small twinkle in his brown eyes. "It was a very inspiring speech you gave that day when you stormed the higher circle; very effective too. And I think your subordinate Xander can testify to how much better his teammates treated him after."

Youngsaeng didn't say anything. It all made sense in his mind, but not in his heart. His heart ached, and Jongwoon, blessed Jongwoon, must have seen what the real issue was because he went to Youngsaeng's side, gently touching his arm. "Hyunjoong-soonbae had a hard time deciding to join; hardest time out of all of us. Nearly decided not to-"

"Then why did he?" Youngsaeng asked simply, and Jongwoon, caught off guard, floundered.

But the agent, listening intently, was fast to reply. “For you.”

The sharp look in Youngsaeng’s gaze belied his question. But to the agent’s credit, he didn’t back down at the gaze that had shriveled even the most stubborn member of higher circle. “Hyunjoong wasn’t lying when he said he was being watched because the mundanes feared his power. It was getting worse just before he joined, and he knew that if he didn’t do something, then that fear and hate would soon extend to you too.”

“...I see.” Youngsaeng lowered his gaze, “...I need some time to think. And some space. If what you really say is true then it’s no problem with me going out… somewhere? To find someplace quiet?”

“You’ll be stopped if you try to go out of the compound, but it’s no problem if you stay within it.” The agent pursed his lips. “I’ll let the guards know… and… if anyone questions you, just say that Kyujong allowed it.”

“Thank you.” Youngsaeng allowed a small measure of gratefulness to enter his voice before turned to exit the room, trying to ignore the looks of pity cast at him as he left.
 

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He’d found a quiet place to hide in, and the agent - Kyujong - must have gotten word out, because anyone who came in would quickly back out in a hurry, and for that he was grateful. He’d probably have lynched anyone who had gotten too close, as high and confused as his emotions were.

But now, after sitting in the shadows for so long, the solitude and darkness comforting, he was beginning to calm down, the thoughts beginning to settle from his mind down to his heart. He’d actually had come to terms with the Fallen and reality of their cause for a while already. It made sense, even though he was still a little resentful to find out all his anguish and pain had pretty much been for nothing. Well, not nothing. Jongwoon had been right on that count. Without the Fallen, Youngsaeng could see how society would have gone back to the way it once was. So he guessed he was only half resentful.

But there was one thing he still couldn’t get over. One thing he didn’t know if he could ever get over: three guesses what and no prizes.

Hyunjoong had left him. Had made him hate him for all those years. Had let him lie in a bed for two all alone, caressing the cold spot on the bed while dreaming of a warmth once there, had let the tears fall without catching them like he said he would.

Youngsaeng understood the reason why he would in his head, but in his heart, he didn’t. Sure, the world had been at stake. Sure, trouble would have threatened him and put them all at risk. But as Youngsaeng’s lover, shouldn’t Hyunjoong have disregarded logic and had pragmatism to have taken care of Youngsaeng’s heart, rather than choosing the choice that Hyunjoong’d known would have shattered it?

The door cracked open, interrupting his downwards spiral of thoughts, and his eyes narrowed as he glared at the person who stepped in. “Heo Youngsaeng, is it?”

“...Kyujong allowed me to be here.” was Youngsaeng’s cold response. And he was surprised when the oddly familiar man smirked.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t I know. He let everyone know.” The man sighed, “but it’s a good thing then: we have some privacy to talk.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?” Youngsaeng shot back, but the man was already seating himself beside Youngsaeng. “Eh. Yeah, you probably don’t. You don’t need to I guess, but I do have to say my piece before I get driven up the wall and punch someone. My name’s Jungmin by the way… or maybe you’d know be better as Wraith?”

The puzzle as to why this man looked familiar was solved - Youngsaeng had seen Wraith many a time, standing next to Reaper, wrapped in cold flames of death, equally maniacal look his gold eyes. This man’s eyes were brown, and he wasn’t surrounded with flames, but the bone structure, and even the tilt of the lips in that smirk were all too familiar.

Youngsaeng sighed. He was going to get used to people he thought was utterly insane looking like normal human beings rather than terrifying monsters trapped in human shells. “So… Wraith- Jungmin… whatever you’re called. What do you want to say to me? I’d like to get back to my mulling and feeling sorry for myself.”

"Huh. That would make it a little problematic since the reasons I'm talking to you is to get you to stop moping. Since, while you mope, my partner is standing outside the door like a dope, his aura leaking out and affecting everyone nearby with depression." Jungmin stretched himself out, casting his eyes at the doorway.

Youngsaeng frowned, "your partner?"

"Yes. My partner, your ex-partner. There's only one person we'd be talking about in this situation." Jungmin said with a wry look in his eyes.

"Hyunjoong?" Youngsaeng immediately looked more guarded. "Why is he outside?"

"Because he's an idiot who puts your needs way above his own– what he thinks are your needs anyway. So he's been sitting outside, worrying, rather than coming in and talking with you like he should."

Jungmin looked up at Youngsaeng, a long suffering look on his face. "Do you know? What could have been a very fast, few minutes discussion on whether or not to tell you the truth and convince you to join, which; by the way, was a very easy decision since you were digging very close to the truth on your own already and just putting you back would have been just delaying the inevitable, got dragged to few days because Hyunjoong insisted that he be the one to who should try to convince you to join us. He was all verbose-like during those meetings. Very convincing and all, and then, the first time he goes into your cell to try, he loses his nerve the moment you woke up and went all Reaper in a knee-jerk reaction. I'm still not letting him live down that day."

Youngsaeng stared at Jungmin's light-hearted treatment of the matter. But the agent didn't seem to notice, continuing to rattle on. "Then, after he'd calmed down a bit, he went back in and what happened? He would go in, stand there debating with himself on whether or not he should even convince you to stay, then, he would get called away, for a meeting, mission or whatnot and end up not saying anything at all."

That sounded surprisingly like Hyunjoong, actually. The man could give speeches to huge crowds and convince them to give their kidneys for free, but when it came to a one-on-one, the simple matter of convincing Youngsaeng that they should eat pasta and not rice was a monumental challenge in comparison. The reminder of the past didn't help the part of Youngsaeng that still wanted to be angry at Hyunjoong. A rather large, indignant part.

"Why did he even need to debate about telling me anything?" Youngsaeng muttered under his breath. He hadn't meant for Jungmin to answer him at all, but the agent did anyway.

"Because, as already established, Hyunjoong is a dolt, and he still wants to protect you."

"Protect me from what?!"

"Oh, nothing much other than the massive hate that you'll get just being a member of the Fallen? Seeing your once comrades looking at you with such anger and betrayal at the mere fact that you're on the other side and you still have to do things to make that look even stronger? Do you really think that he'd want you to go through that? It's a depressing role, and all of us have felt tired of it at one point or another. Luckily, most of us have someone we love, at the very least as a brother or sister to tide us through. The one Hyunjoong loves the most is always on the front lines, constantly glaring at him with black eyes full of betrayal. "

Youngsaeng stiffened at the accusation, looking away. But Jungmin wasn't done. "It's taken its toll on him, and... I'll just say I do hope that you'll accept and convince him that it's in everyone's best interests you stay. At the very least, there'll be someone to stop him from overworking himself, even if that is his coping mechanism to deal with everything, least of all the loneliness he feels."

"Anyway, it was nice to finally talk with you properly, Shadowcat." Jungmin pushed himself off the floor, dusting his pants off. "I hope that you'll at least talk with Hyunjoong soon. Otherwise I'm probably going to deck him and then lock the two of you into a room until you figure things out, whatever Kyujong says."

Youngsaeng didn't say anything, only watching with narrowed eyes as Jungmin opened the door, light flooding into the room. Even that few moments was blinding and left him in utter darkness in the wake of its departure. And Youngsaeng curled up, heart even more conflicted that it had been before.
 

Hyunjoong was waiting outside just like Jungmin had said. His hair was a little longer, face more lined and tired. But he still looked exactly the same as the day that Youngsaeng had met him.

He stiffened, back straightening when he saw Youngsaeng approaching him. And he must have seen the flash in Youngsaeng's eye and knew what it had meant, but he didn't move except to stumble when Youngsaeng's fist connected with his jaw.

Everyone who had been passing by paused to stare at them. But the two of them could have been alone for all they cared.

Hyunjoong rubbed his jaw, wincing as he straightened, the pain in his eyes deeper than the forming bruise on his skin. "Saeng-"

But Youngsaeng didn't care about his excuses. He only needed Hyunjoong to do one thing: "Show me your aura."

"I... What-"

"Just show it to me, Hyunjoong!"

Hyunjoong closed his mouth, lips thinning, but he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and did as Youngsaeng asked.

It was exactly the same as it always had been - that calming darkness that was somehow embedded with gleaming lights. And it washed over Youngsaeng like comforting satin enveloping him like a warm, familiar blanket. And he closed his eyes, feeling as if years of pain and loneliness were washed off in that single moment.

Then, the feeling subsided as Hyunjoong hid his aura again; and Youngsaeng opened his eyes to gaze into familiar brown orbs, filled with uncertainty and a hint of fear. And when they caught Youngsaeng looking at them, turned hooded and looked away.

Youngsaeng let out a sigh, "you really are an idiot, Hyunjoong."

Hyunjoong looked up in time to see Youngsaeng coming at him, and he flinched, expecting another attack, only to gasp, stiffening in surprise when arms wrapped around his waist, a familiar breath ghosting over his skin as Youngsaeng leaned into the crook of his neck like a tired lover seeking respite at the end of a long day.

His arms were tentative as they moved around to hold Youngsaeng's form. The movement wasn't unfamiliar, but it felt rusty, his arms not having moved in such a motion for so long. "...Saeng?"

"I'm angry at you," Hyunjoong stiffened at those words, but turned confused when he felt Youngsaeng shake his head against his chest. "No, not for the reason you think. I thought it was that reason too: that I was angry at you for lying to me, angry at you for the unnecessary loneliness and wasted feelings you put me through."

"But... It wasn't really that I was angry about. Sure I was. But those things were much easier to let go..." Youngsaeng paused, taking in a shaky breath, and despite himself, Hyunjoong tightened his hold around Youngsaeng. And Youngsaeng smiled.

"What were you really angry about then?" Hyunjoong asked quietly, finally, after a long period of silence. He sounded reluctant to break the moment, as if he didn't know when the next time would be that he'd get to hold Youngsaeng like this again.

"I was angry because you thought you had to protect me, and to do so you left me behind." Youngsaeng's voice was quiet. "I was angry because I couldn't understand why you would think it necessary to push me away, to keep me in the dark as if I was a child who didn't know any better. As if I was a selfish person who wouldn't stay by my lover's side when he was hurting. Why didn't you tell me, Hyun? Why didn't you confide in me?"

"I... wanted to protect you." Hyunjoong murmured, but Youngsaeng shook his head.

"Exactly. But I don't need you to protect me. I never did." Youngsaeng gently pulled away, eyes searching as he asked, "was that all I was for you? Something to protect?"

Hyunjoong's eyes widened at the question, and in them, Youngsaeng saw the answer he was seeking, even before the other man answered. "No... No. Of course no, you were... are my partner. In every sense of the word."

"Then let me act like a partner." Youngsaeng pleaded, reaching to grasp Hyunjoong's hand in his. "Let me be by your side, thick and thin, not matter what happens, as corny as it all sounds. Don't push me away again, Hyun. I'll never forgive you if you do."

And there was a tense moment, because as sweet as Hyunjoong was, he was also far too self-sacrificial for his own good. And before Youngsaeng, he'd always been alone - a runaway because his parents had been mundane and had been afraid of him. He hadn't known what love was and what he did know, Youngsaeng had taught him. And for that moment, it almost seemed as if fear would win, and Hyunjoong would push him away.

Then, that moment passed and Hyunjoong smiled, a sheepish smile of both apology and plea. "How could I not learn from my mistakes? When the punishment is so severe? I'm tired of missing you anyway."

The grin that appeared almost threatened to split his face, and he'd never admit to it, but he let out a happy squeal, jumping into Hyunjoong's arms, the latter breaking out into a laugh of pure joy as he swung Youngsaeng around, uncaring of the cheers that exploded around them.

But Youngsaeng blinked, sliding out of Hyunjoong's hold as he suddenly realised that they hadn't been holding this conversation somewhere exactly private, and there was quite a large crowd of onlookers by now, some of them not entirely unfamiliar. Wrinkling his nose at Jongwoon and Hyungjoon, he waved his hand dismissively at them. "Alright, show's over. Go off and... Do whatever you need to do! Nothing to see here."

"Aw. Come on, at least kiss each other or something!" Jungmin heckled, yelping when Kyujong elbowed him.

Hyunjoong chuckled even as Youngsaeng's eyebrow rose, "seems like that want a free show."

"Seems so." Youngsaeng smirked, wrapping his arms around Hyunjoong's neck. "Let's give them one then."