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"Help! Someone, help!"

Sungho stood outside the warehouse door. The building was insulated enough that he'd only heard Dohyun yelling when he came within a few feet. Dohyun hadn't been this difficult for weeks. And to make this much noise when he surely knew there was no-one around to hear … it was unusual. He placed the paper bag containing the cake on the ground and unlocked the door.

The yelling stopped. Sungho pushed the door open and then stepped aside quickly to dodge the chair that had been thrown his way. It hit the wall and skidded across the floor.

"Who the fuck are you?" Dohyun shouted. He brandished the other chair.

He looked … shorter.

Sungho strode towards him.

"Get away from me!" Dohyun screamed.

He swung the chair and Sungho blocked it before flinging it across the room. He grabbed Dohyun's arms and forced him back while he struggled, until he tripped over the bed and landed on it. Dohyun swore and tried to wrestle free but Sungho held him down easily.

He could see it now, this close up. It wasn't Dohyun. Or … it was. It was the same boy that had haunted him for almost a decade.


"Get off! Get off!" He seemed hysterical, twisting his whole body, kicking his legs uselessly.


Dohyun froze with a gasp, resembling a rabbit in the mouth of a wolf. He flinched when Sungho leaned over, tried to pull his hands from where Sungho had pinned him to the bed.

"What do you want?" His voice trembled. "I don't—I mean, I can get you money or—I, what do you want from me?"

"What did you do?"

"…What?" There was no recognition in his eyes at all.

Sungho looked him over. "…How old are you?"

Dohyun swallowed. "Sixteen," he said in a hoarse voice. His eyes flickered down for a split second.

"Do you know me?" Sungho asked.

Dohyun shook his head wordlessly. Sungho released Dohyun's wrists and stood up. Dohyun backed away quickly, pressing himself back into the corner. His big eyes followed Sungho's every movement.

"I won't tell anyone," he said. "If you just let me go, I'll-I'll forget everything."

Sungho stared. Suddenly he wished he was dealing with adult Dohyun. He at least had stopped the bargaining very early on.

"You're twenty-seven," he told the teenager. There was no answer. "You were twenty-seven and now you're sixteen."

Dohyun's eyes were getting wider. His hands were like claws against the wall.

"I'm Sungho," Sungho tried. "You don't remember?"

Dohyun's eyes flickered over his face. A tiny frown formed between his eyebrows. His gaze moved across Sungho's body, cataloguing the differences and similarities.

Sungho watched him back. He looked somehow younger than he remembered. Dohyun back then had always seemed so self-assured and confident. This was … this was a very scared kid out of his depth.

"You look like Sungho," Dohyun said slowly. "But this is crazy. You need to prove it!"

Sungho's mind blanked. Prove it? What did he have that could prove someone suddenly being younger than they should? Ah. He took out his phone and swiped through the photos until he found one without any visible restraints.

"Here," he said. "This is you. You're twenty-seven."

Dohyun leaned forwards, staring at the close-up of himself asleep. He looked between Sungho and the phone several times.

"Your phone is really…" He trailed off. "It's from the future? Eleven years in the future?"

Sungho nodded. It was true from Dohyun's perspective.

"And you're Sungho? You're just older ... you're twenty-seven," he said, like he was reminding himself of the facts of the universe.

"What happened?" he asked. "I just woke up, chained in here like this." He glanced around, then his eyes widened. "I threw a chair at you! And you were just … you came here to rescue me, right?"

"Yes," said Sungho after a pause. Dohyun still looked nervous so he reiterated, "I came here to rescue you."

Dohyun seemed to deflate in relief, slumping against the wall. "O-oh," he said shakily. "Thanks. And sorry." He looked at the cuff around his ankle. "Do you have a key?"

"Yes," said Sungho, and without really knowing why, took out the bundle of keys and unlocked it.

He watched Dohyun closely but Dohyun made no move to escape. He just scooted to the edge of the bed and sat there, placed his hands on his knees to hide the shaking.

"How the hell," he muttered to himself. Then he looked up at Sungho. "So we're still friends?"

Sungho's mood turned so suddenly he felt like he'd fallen into a black pit, pushed in again by Dohyun's rejection. Fury whipped up inside him so icy-cold he was paralysed, unable to speak.

"I—I mean—" Dohyun was talking. "I thought you'd be too busy to keep in contact."

Sungho blinked. The anger died down. Dohyun had thought Sungho would leave him? Sungho would forget about him?

"No," he managed to say. "Of course not."

"Oh," said Dohyun in quiet surprise.

Sungho stared at him. He didn't know what to do. The cake was still outside. He'd hoped the prop would help jog Dohyun's memories. But this was a Dohyun from before that even happened. There was no memory for him to remember.

"We should go," said Dohyun, fidgeting. "Before the people who locked me up come back."

Sungho's plan didn't make sense anymore. For the lack of anything to do he went along with Dohyun. Dohyun followed him into the car without the slightest hint of hesitation, not even asking where Sungho was driving them. He rested his head against the window, either staring out or staring at Sungho's reflection.

It occurred to Sungho that the memories didn't matter anymore. They were just a tool. He had the source of his suffering right here in person. He could take revenge directly—hurt Dohyun before he'd hurt Sungho. He could pin Dohyun to the bed, hold him down and make him endure someone else's lust. Make him take it over and over, make him pretend he liked it.

He swallowed down the sour taste in his mouth. Somehow that idea had lost its appeal. It was different when Dohyun looked at Sungho with trust and recognition, when he was so much slighter, more delicate somehow—exposing his weaknesses so carelessly, his defences blunt and cracked, like a child.

"I live here?" said Dohyun as Sungho backed the car into the driveway.

"This is my house."

"Where do I live?"


Dohyun spun to face him.

"We live together?" he said incredulously. Sungho braced for annoyance, rejection, but Dohyun's face as he was led inside was lit with only badly-hidden surprise and pleasure.

"I'm going to take a shower!" he announced when he'd been on a full tour of the house.

Sungho just nodded and sank onto the sofa as Dohyun disappeared upstairs. He listened as the shower turned on a minute later. He didn't know what he was doing. After a while he stood up and put the cake in the fridge. They would need to eat dinner soon.

Half an hour later there was a shout from upstairs.

"Sungho! Where are my clothes?"

Sungho paused in folding together the dumplings. The belongings he'd take from Dohyun's flat were still in boxes in his wardrobe.

"You haven't unpacked yet," he shouted back. "Wear some of mine."


Several minutes later Dohyun came padding down the stairs. His hair was damp and his skin pink and bright. He was wearing one of Sungho's trackpants (the waistband must have been rolled over several times not to drag on the floor) and a white T-shirt that hung off one shoulder. Sungho's eyes caught on the exposed skin, the delicate line of his neck.

Dohyun walked over. Sungho locked his eyes back down.

"What are you making?"

"Pork dumplings."

"Can I help?"

"No, it's almost done."

Dohyun hovered, tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter. Sungho could feel him staring.

"What do you do?"

Sungho pinched another dumpling closed and put it with the rest.

"Security," he answered eventually. It was true enough.

"Wow," said Dohyun. "I didn't expect—I mean, you're big enough now, I guess. How tall are you? Six foot?"

"Six foot one."

Sungho glanced up and caught Dohyun looking him up and down, a wide-eyed admiring look on his face. He flushed when he noticed Sungho's eyes and laughed under his breath a little embarrassedly.

"Go sit down," said Sungho. "These will be done soon."

His eyes trailed down as he watched Dohyun walk away and sit on the sofa. He turned back to the dinner, his clothes feeling uncomfortably restricting. From Dohyun's direction he heard a muttered,

"This is so weird."

Fifteen minutes later and the dumplings were finally done. Dohyun looked delighted when Sungo set them down on the table.

"This is really good," he said through a mouthful.

Sungho watched him, and took a bite of his own dumpling. He'd cooked this for Dohyun back in the warehouse too, but he'd thrown it on the floor rather than eat it.

"Do you remember—" Dohyun said, "—you used to share your lunch with me at school."

Sungho was still holding a dumpling in his chopsticks. He looked at it then lifted it across the table a little bit. Dohyun gave a startled smile then opened his mouth.


Sungho popped it in and Dohyun started chewing, then coughed as he started laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. Sungho ate a dumpling of his own and then picked up another one for Dohyun. Piece by piece he fed Dohyun like a little baby bird, until both their plates were clean.

A low glow of the feelings he used to have back in high school had settled in his chest: fierce protectiveness with a touch of possessiveness, because he was the only one who looked after Dohyun like this.

When dinner was finished and cleaned up Dohyun stood in the living room, swinging his arms as he looked around. It struck Sungho that Dohyun was hiding his nervousness under bravado. It felt like he was testing Sungho, seeing where the boundaries lay. That hadn't changed from the warehouse.

"Do you have a TV?" Dohyun asked.

Sungho shook his head and Dohyun looked a little taken aback. He turned slowly, scanning the living room again. There really wasn't a lot here to entertain a teenager. Then Sungho remembered the boxes upstairs.

"You have your old PSP still," he said, "I could get it out."

Dohyun hung back as Sungho searched through the boxes, letting out a hissing 'yes' of triumph when Sungho found it for him. Sungho stayed kneeling there while Dohyun fiddled about trying to turn it on. In the back of the wardrobe lying at the top of the transparent container he'd partially uncovered during the search, was an old framed photo. He took it out and wiped the dust off it.

Dohyun had his arm slung around him, a grin on his face and a cigarette in his hand. Sungho was wearing a slightly startled smile, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a comic in his lap.

Sungho had asked Dohyun's friend for this photo, and printed it out and framed it by himself. He'd forgotten it was back here. He took it out and set it on the bedside table.

"It’s us!"

Dohyun came to stand next to Sungho, picked up the picture and looked at it more closely.

"I remember this," he said. His thumb rested against tiny Sungho's face and he stared at it for a moment. "We should … we should try to fix this," he said eventually, looking up at Sungho.

Sungho nodded like he agreed. He didn't see how they could do anything though, when they didn't even know how it had happened. And he didn't feel any burning need to change anything, as unexpected as it all was. This was a Dohyun who knew Sungho. He wasn't going to resist or fight anything Sungho wanted to do.

Dohyun played on the PSP for the rest of the evening. He didn't move away when Sungho sat next to him and pulled his feet into his lap. He asked a few questions—what job did Dohyun do? How long had they been together? Should they tell the police about the people that kidnapped him?—and Sungho lied or told the truth as was appropriate. Dohyun didn't seem suspicious, not now that he'd classified Sungho as a friend. He was so trusting. He'd forgotten that part of Dohyun. He'd forgotten a lot of what Dohyun was like back then.

When it was time for bed Dohyun hovered in the bedroom doorway, like he wasn't sure where he was meant to sleep. Sungho pulled him in and into his lap, capturing his lips in a kiss. He was still for a second and then he moved, kissing back tentatively. His hands came up, moving over Sungho's pecs and to his shoulders and biceps, feeling the muscles underneath.

He was yielding, even as Sungho's kiss became more aggressive. There was none of the casual dominance Dohyun had shown back in high school—he was going along with it, taking all his cues from Sungho.

Sungho grabbed him by the ass and pulled him forward sharply, pressing their crotches together. He could feel Dohyun's erection through their clothes, and he thrust his hips up, rolling his cock against the bulge in Dohyun's trackpants. Dohyun broke away, panting, looking a little stunned.

"Wow, you're really—"

He didn't finish the sentence, letting out a squeak as Sungho tipped him onto his back on the bed. His dark hair fanned out on the sheets, and colour was rising in his cheeks, complimenting his pale skin. Sungho leaned over him to fetch the lube from the bedside drawer, and tugged Dohyun's pants off. Dohyun flinched a little at the first touch to his hole.

"Ah, wait! You want to do it this way around?"

"You don't want it?"

"No, I do but—" he gasped as Sungho pushed a finger inside. "I haven't ever—"

He writhed and Sungho shushed him, kissed the insides of his thighs. He licked a stripe up Dohyun's cock and Dohyun gasped, whining Sungho's name shakily. He was even louder when Sungho sucked the head of his cock into his mouth and swirled his tongue around.

He just let Sungho do it. He didn't scream or yell, or push Sungho away and tell him how they were going to do it. It was more than Sungho had ever dreamed of—a chance to re-do their first time the way he wanted.

Dohyun's hands threaded into Sungho's hair, holding on as he worshipped him with his mouth and softened him, stretched him open. He was trembling when Sungho pulled away, but his legs fell apart as Sungho moved over him, shoving his trousers down enough to push inside.

Dohyun let out a gasp like there was no air in his lungs, tossing his head against the pillow, his eyes screwed shut. Sungho pressed down until he was all the way in, his elbows bracketing the side of Dohyun's head, their faces so close together he could feel the puffs of air as Dohyun panted.

He dropped down, kissed the side of Dohyun's throat as he rolled his hips and thrust inside. Dohyun's hands clutched at his back as he fucked into him. He was soft and warm inside, perfect.

Sungho slipped a hand underneath and gripped Dohyun by the ass, shoving into him with even more force. He hid his face in the mattress—he couldn't control his expression, not when sharp ecstasy was shooting through him every time he thrust in. Dohyun was making little bitten-off noises, whines and moans, like he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't get enough of it—the feeling of Dohyun underneath him, smaller than he was used to, but so willing, so submissive—

Dohyun's fingers scratched up his back suddenly, and he clenched around Sungho like a clamp. Sungho shoved in, his vision whiting out and his orgasm taking him by surprise, leaving him shaking and gasping.

He felt washed clean when he pulled away, pure light inside. He could feel a smile on his lips and he touched Dohyun tenderly as he cleaned them up. Dohyun blinked up at him, something warily confused in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, searching Sungho's face, a crease in his brow. "You seem…" He didn't finish the sentence.

Sungho pushed the hair away from Dohyun's face, leaned in and kissed his forehead before pulling him into his arms

"I'm good," he said, completely truthfully.

He was. He had Dohyun.