Chapter Text
Jongwoo had never in his life genuinely enjoyed spending time with Shin Jaeho. When they were in college together he’d been hard pressed to get rid of him and now, two years after his initial move to Seoul, he was just as bad- if not worse to deal with. He supposed it was harder for him because he now knew that he wasn’t crazy for thinking the guy was an asshole but even after everything he still couldn’t escape him. Shin Jaeho was an endless chore that would continue to need attending to so long as he lived.
The place they agreed to meet at was a typical greasy spoon in downtown Gangnam. Weathered and old, it was nowhere close to the opulent restaurants Jaeho would frequent with people he wanted to impress. Over the phone he had told Jongwoo that he wanted to take him 'somewhere he'd feel comfortable,' instead of the usual fair.
Bastard.
They had scarcely gotten settled in their seats before Jaeho had barked out an order for three beers and a bottle of soju. When Jongwoo informed him that he wasn't drinking, Jaeho had simply waved him off.
“Nonsense, everyone drinks. Us especially. Let me treat you, let me treat you. For old time’s sake.” Jaeho insisted.
“Why did you order three beers?” Jongwoo asked him then, his expression pensive.
Jaeho opened his mouth to answer only to close it smugly when he heard the sound of the restaurant door clanging outward from behind. Min Jieun entered then, looking as elegantly overworked as ever. When she sat down on the stool beside Jaeho, their shoulders pressed closed together. He gave her a shameless kiss on the cheek as a greeting and turned back to Jongwoo, almost as if to gauge his reaction.
Oh.
So this was it, was it? This was why Jaeho had badgered him to come and meet him out of the blue after all this time... It wasn't to let bygones be bygones- it was to gloat.
His skin felt itchy.
“Hi,” Jieun nodded toward him cordially. “It’s been a while.”
Unlike Jaeho, he had willingly spoken with Jieun sporadically over the last two years. After she’d broken up with him, she’d spent the rest of his existence in Seoul trying to ease her guilt over it… But all that did was ensure there would never be a clean break for Jongwoo.
She'd never told him about this, though.
Jongwoo eyed the engagement ring on her finger- a new, gaudy addition to her appearance that stuck out like a fog light on an orchid. He expected to feel more rage when he looked at it but all he really felt was pity. Jaeho was a brute. An asshole. He was pushy and loud. Jieun had always been quiet and frantic. She bottled things in and kept her head down. The two of them were the formula for an unhappy marriage.
Jongwoo analysed Jaeho and wondered how long it would take for him to start having an affair. Before the wedding? After? Had he already started chasing skirts or was he playing loyal for now?
“Congratulations on your engagement.” Jongwoo said mildly. It wasn't out of character for him to approach bad situations like a moth to flame but even for him this was foolish. He should have ignored Jaeho's message. He should have told him to go die. Better yet he should have killed him... Yet he hadn't. Once again this masochistic curiosity of his had gotten the best of him and once again masochistic curiosity would kill the cat... Or at the very least piss it the fuck off.
Now that he knew what this was all about... He just wanted to go home.
Jongwoo glanced down at his phone. His lockscreen shone against the dim din of the restaurant. A photo of a black cat curled up against his laptop.
No messages from Moonjo.
Jongwoo knew why- but even still he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. The silent treatment from Moonjo, to Jongwoo, was the most off-putting tactic in the man’s wheelhouse of manipulation. They both knew Jongwoo had become oddly warmed by Moonjo's invasive obsession with him. It made him feel important- cared for in a way that neither of the two people in front of him ever made him feel... To take that away was a callous assurance that they’d both be scratchy the entire time they were apart from one another.
Even still, Jongwoo knew full well that Seo Moonjo was more trouble than Jaeho and Jieun were worth. If he gave Jongwoo the cold shoulder because he didn’t let him come here to escalate things, that was a sacrifice he was willing to make… Even if Jongwoo did feel a little ganged up on right now.
“Ah, don’t let the news get you down, Jongwoo.” Jaeho slapped him on the shoulder. “There’s someone out there for everyone.”
“Oppa...” Jieun warned him, playfully tapping on his hand.
Jongwoo watched the pair of them interact, his expression morose.
He used to know these people well. He thought of them on their birthdays. The remnants of his adolescence was drained in their presence. Looking at them now was like looking at a pair of strangers.
“Come on, Jongwoo, give us a smile for once.” Jaeho grabbed his can of beer and took a swig. “Everything’s in the past, right? I’ve let go, so you should too. Drink up.”
Jongwoo did not touch the can. Jieun watched him silently as she took gentle sips of her own.
Jaeho noticed his deliberate inaction and his lip twitched in annoyance. “Yah, Jongwoo, I paid for that beer with my hard-earned money. You better drink it.”
That was the thing though, Jongwoo didn't need to. It had been a long time since he'd been forced to appreciate Jaeho's malformed charity.
“I didn’t ask you to get me it, Hyung.” Jongwoo snapped. He motioned for the waitress to bring him some tea instead.
Jaeho looked incredulously at him. “What? Are you a recovering alcoholic now or something?”
“I’m just not drinking.” Jongwoo mumbled.
Jaeho sucked his teeth and snatched Jongwoo’s beer can away from him. He took an angry swig out of it. “Not drinking, my foot. You’re just being difficult.”
Jongwoo wanted to be at home.
“Jongwoo... We asked you here tonight because we were wondering if you’d come to our wedding.” Jieun started nervously then, trying her best to get the conversation back on track. “It’s back home. In Busan.” Her big eyes were sweet and imploring. “It’s a good chance to start over. See old friends. Make amends…”
Everyone back home had known he and Jieun were together. Returning to Busan for her wedding to another man- his sunbae, no less, just felt pathetic.
Besides, the idea that he wanted to maintain his relationship with either of them or, as Jieun called it, ‘make amends,’ after all this time was downright laughable. There was a reason he hadn’t been the one to call them here to this shitty little barbeque place.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jongwoo waved Jieun off, nodding at the waitress as she brought over his tea.
It was still hot to touch so he left it for now.
Jaeho glared at the clay pot like it had personally offended him.
“I won’t be coming.”
Jaeho rolled his eyes. “Why not? Are you still mad that Jieun dumped you for me?”
Jieun breathed in through her teeth, her manicured little eyebrows tensing up. “Jongwoo, you know it wasn’t like that...”
Getting indignant over something Jongwoo hadn't said. That was a new one for her.
Jaeho put an arm over her shoulder- drawing her close. “Does this make you mad, Jongwoo?”
It did, but not in the way Jaeho wanted it to. Jongwoo was mostly just angry that he’d even agreed to come here in the first place. He assumed it was because he wanted some kind of closure. Some kind of end to this chapter of his life… But right now all he wanted to do was leave them in the dust again.
“Is that all you called me here for?” Jongwoo snapped. “To tell me you’re getting married? I told you congratulations, what more do you want?”
“Ah, so rude and disrespectful. You see how he talks to me Jieun-ah? After everything I did for him? After everything I let go?”
Jongwoo flexed his hands underneath the table. He imagined smashing that boiling hot teapot over Jaeho’s head. He imagined watching his skin melt. He imagined prying open his mouth and pouring it down his throat- scalding him from the inside. Jongwoo had always hated seeing Jaeho play the bigger man- and he hated watching Jieun believe it time and time again even more.
Now, Jongwoo was just an unwilling, unfriendly extra in their story. The pauper ex-boyfriend, the ungrateful hoobae. They didn't see him as anything more than that and they likely never would.
Jongwoo wanted to be at home.
“We came here to talk about happy news and you’ve ruined it now.” Jaeho clicked his tongue, taking another swig from Jongwoo’s can of beer. Next, he poured a cup of soju out for each member of the table and nudged Jongwoo’s toward him with his middle finger.
“I don’t want it.” Jongwoo refused. “I told you before, I’m not drinking.”
“Are you ill?” Jieun’s brows furrowed. “Your face has gotten thinner.”
Jaeho sniffed. “He’s just ungrateful, that’s what he is.”
Jongwoo clenched his fists once more. He'd love to show Jaeho how 'ungrateful' he could be. "I’m going to the restroom.”
The water on Jongwoo’s face felt cool. It brought a sense of clarity to his mind that hadn’t been there before.
He so desperately wanted to be out of here. To be home. He was a hermit at the best of times but if the company he was with was good, he’d make his own exceptions.
…Suffice to say his asshole ex-boss and the ex-girlfriend that dumped him for said asshole ex-boss was not on his list.
Ugh.
Jongwoo wanted to relent and text Moonjo badly… He wanted to tell him that he won and that he wanted nothing more than to go the fuck home.
-But then he thought of that bastard’s smug little smile and he decided against it.
He could do this.
It was fine.
When Jongwoo returned to the table, Jieun looked upset and Jaeho had that same cocky grin on his face that he always did. It was like no time had passed at all.
Jongwoo took a hefty first swig of his tea.
It was bitter going down.
“I really think you should come to the wedding, Jongwoo.” Jaeho said then, wasting no time. “I can set you up with a date. There’s plenty of girls coming. Do you remember our Son Yoojung from work? She still talks about you.”
Jongwoo filled up his cup of tea once more and downed it in one gulp. He didn’t taste anything this time around. It was better. “I’m not interested. I’m not coming.”
“Jongwoo, it would really mean a lot if you could.” Jieun was using that same imploring tone that she’d always used when she’d wanted something back when they were dating. It felt so starkly wrong now. "Why did you come here if you were going to be so stubborn?"
"Why indeed..." Jongwoo mumbled darkly.
“Look, if you’re worried about looking pathetic, you should just say that.” Jaeho interjected then. “You know I’m a good guy. I can help…”
Jongwoo necked another cup of tea as Jaeho prattled on.
Then another.
Jaeho was still talking. He was still holding onto Jieun like she was an accessory…
…Another.
“Oi, Jongwoo-yah, are you even listening to me?”
“No.” Jongwoo shook the teapot in his grasp and found that it was now empty. He’d finished it all on his own. He motioned for the waitress to bring him another.
“You’re so listless, Jongwoo.” Jaeho was exasperated now. “You know, I’m surprised you didn’t turn tail and head back to Busan after I fired you. What have you even been doing all this time?”
The waitress put the refilled teapot down and Jongwoo quickly poured himself another piping hot cup to distract himself from Jaeho’s yammering. "Writing." He replied coolly. He didn’t wait for it to cool down this time. Instead, he took a scalding hot sip and immediately stopped in his tracks.
Something was wrong.
This was the same tea as before but it tasted different from the first pot. The type of leaves he’d ordered were the strong, bitter kind but that first batch had tasted slightly off… Jongwoo had just assumed it was because the company he was with had put a bad taste in his mouth...
-But now…
Jongwoo took stock of the empty soju bottles at their table. When he’d left, there’d only been one. Now there were three in the discard pile... He suddenly went very still, his eyes wide and piercing as he stared at the smirking Jaeho and the guilty Jieun.
“Please don’t be mad. Jaeho-oppa just wanted you to loosen up.”
Jaeho had spiked his tea while he was in the restroom. Jaeho had spiked his tea while he was in the restroom and Jieun had watched him do it and she hadn’t moved to stop him.
Did they think he was stupid for not noticing sooner? Were the two of them laughing at him behind their hands?
“...He won’t do it again.”
Jongwoo was speechless.
“Haha. Now you’re caught up to me, Jongwoo-yah! Let’s have some fun!” Jaeho laughed and finished his own cup of Soju- moving all too quickly to pour himself, Jieun and Jongwoo another.
After all, what was one more if he’d already had so much?
Jongwoo stood to attention then, the sound of the silverware clanging against the hardwood table sent a wave of unwanted attention his way- but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. His hands were shaking with such profound rage that it sent tremors all the way up his body.
“Aish, relax a little, Jongwoo, it’s just a little soju… Well, a lot of soju. I didn’t expect you to drink so much so quickly.” Jaeho chuckled, “you're going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”
Jongwoo needed to get out of here. He needed to get out of here so he wouldn’t murder Jaeho in public. He had to, he had to, he had to-
Jongwoo snatched his bag away from the empty seat beside him and stormed out of the restaurant. His head was clouded… Probably from drinking so much in so little time. He felt dizzy. Disorientated. He couldn’t see straight and when he punched the numbers into his phone- the dial tone wrung out like a bell chime in the distance.
Moonjo picked up on the first ring.
Clearly, he’d been feeling the effects of his own lack of clinginess tonight too.
Pathetic.
“Jagiya.”
For some reason, his voice made Jongwoo want to burst into tears.
He bit back a furious sob. “Jaeho, that, mhm… That fucking…! Idiot. I’m going to kill him, I’m going to kill-”
“...Jagiya?”
“He… He got pissed off that I wasn’t drinking so he spiked my tea with… With a lot of soju while I was in the bathroom.” Jongwoo ranted, swaying against the autumnal breeze. He needed to sit down before he found himself on the ground anyhow. “I didn’t realise until I’d finished all of it… Fuck. I should have just stayed home. I’m an idiot. I’m so stupid.”
Moonjo on the other line was silent for a very, very long time.
When he did finally speak, Jongwoo could feel his foreboding nature all the way through his phone.
“I’ll be there soon.”
It truly was a rarity that Moonjo arrived home before Jongwoo and it immediately made his late arrival all the more suspicious. He had seen his shiny loafers at the entrance and known there would be nowhere to hide.
“Welcome back. Did you have to work overtime today?”
When Jongwoo turned the corner toward the sound of his voice, he saw that Moonjo was sitting on the couch with their cat, Bomi, reading some pretentious philosophy novel as the feline slept at his side.
Idly, Jongwoo thought of the day he first brought home Bomi. She was an ugly old stray that lived in the alleyway near the publishing house that he worked for. He had scooped her up in his arms and brought her scratching and hissing into their apartment. Jongwoo had loved her from the moment he saw her… Moonjo, not so much.
-But Jongwoo had told Moonjo that they were keeping her, and that was that.
He needed some of that tenacity now.
As he stared at the pair of them. Man and cat, Jongwoo quickly realised that he had yet to answer Moonjo’s seemingly simple question.
“Where are you right now, Jagi?” Moonjo asked, an amused smile on his lips.
“Hmm?”
Moonjo dogeared the book he was reading and closed it. He cocked his head to the side.
Under that undivided, stark gaze, Jongwoo folded like a house of cards in a hurricane.
“I went to the doctor after work. I’m pregnant.” Jongwoo blurted. It was hardly articulate, but it got the job done. The teasing sentence that Moonjo had been about to say had died on his lips and for once, he was rendered momentarily speechless.
Jongwoo watched his expressionless face twitch with uncertainty.
“...That makes sense.” Moonjo said after a moment, blunt as ever.
Jongwoo nodded at him and moved to sit stiffly on the end of the sofa. He wasn’t exactly nervous- but he couldn’t say he was relaxed either. He’d been sick in the mornings for ages at this point, but the thought that it was something other than a seasonal stomach bug going around hadn’t come to mind until this afternoon.
“What should we do?”
“I should be asking you that question.”
“I want to keep it.” Jongwoo replied honestly.
“If I told you I didn’t, would that change anything about your decision?”
Jongwoo swallowed. “Probably not.” He admitted.
Moonjo seemingly anticipated that answer. He eyed Bomi, who was still curled up at his feet. “Children find me unsettling.”
“I also find you unsettling." Jongwoo spoke petulantly now- like a brat haplessly trying to prove his own point.
"I can't give a child the love it needs to flourish. It is just not something I believe I am capable of.“ He didn’t seem ashamed as he spoke- just honest, open. Jongwoo usually appreciated that about him- but right now it hurt a little. Even if it was what he had expected. “The love I feel for you is the exception. Everything and everyone else is just semantics, Jagiya.”
Jongwoo bided his time waiting for Moonjo by listening to the traffic on the road pass him by as he stuck his finger down his throat. He’d gotten rather good at throwing up lately- fuck knows he’d done it enough… But tonight seemed to be a fluke.
He must have looked to be a strange sight, gagging and retching on the side of the road. After a few more minutes of trying and failing, he drew back, exhausted and defeated.
Jongwoo hugged his legs as he sat on the pavement, his gaze returning to his phone once again. He had several articles pulled up about foetal alcohol syndrome. It was doing nothing to quiet the burning anxiety in his brain.
“Aish, Jongwoo, don’t be so sensitive.”
He hadn’t heard Jaeho and Jieun approach him from behind. It had been a good fifteen minutes since their altercation.
Jongwoo wondered if they had finished their drinks first before coming to find him.
“Get the fuck away from me.” Jongwoo demanded miserably, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Jongwoo.” Jieun reached down to grab his shoulder. Jongwoo caught sight of the ugly engagement ring on her finger again and slapped her hand away.
“Oi-”
“Am I your charity case… Or something?” He bit, his voice slurred and teary. “Am I a starving cat on the street for you to leave food out for every once in a while to ease your conscience?”
“Jongwoo. You’re drunk. Let me-”
“And whose fault is that?!” Jongwoo screeched, stumbling upward to meet Jaeho’s eye. He was unsteady on his feet. He could feel his head spinning.
“What's wrong? What aren’t you telling us?” Jieun implored- she was more frustrated than concerned and that just enraged Jongwoo further.
“Do I need to give you an explanation? Shouldn’t ‘I’m not drinking,’ be enough of a reason to not fucking spike my tea?” Jongwoo seethed drunkenly. “I should have known Shin Jaeho did not take no for an answer. You’ve really chosen yourself a great husband there, Jieun-ah.”
“Oi-” Jaeho grabbed Jongwoo by the collar then, their faces mere inches from one another. Jaeho smelled like soju and cigarette smoke. Jongwoo wanted to gag.
“Watch your mouth.”
Jongwoo struggled against his hold. “Fuck you.” He spat.
Jaeho, now entirely enraged, reared back and punched the tipsy Jongwoo in the face, causing him to fall back down onto the concrete. The impact of his tailbone hitting the ground sent an unfriendly shock up his spine. Jongwoo clutched his face in one hand and his back in the other. He could taste the blood in his mouth and it made him wretch. His body was on fire and his brain was alight with rage- with bloodlust… With indomitable fear.
It all quickly fell into the background, however when he heard the screeching sound of tires against the gravel road behind him.
Generally, when Moonjo pulled up anywhere unannounced, he never ceased to utilise his usual form of unsettling charm. His casual politeness hid a bed of spikes beneath it and the world around him was itching to dive into it. He did not fuel the tension- he eased it into a false sense of security and then he sunk his fangs into it.
…But that wasn’t what happened this time.
This time, instead, when Jongwoo looked back with his hazy vision and his bloody nose and finally saw Moonjo shut the car door behind him, there was no congenial smile on his face and there was no white collar primness to his appearance.
There was no mask at all.
Moonjo approached the three of them promptly, with wide, dangerous steps.
Jaeho, merely annoyed that his winning fight had been interrupted, moved to open his mouth to tell Moonjo, yet again, to mind his own business...
-That was when Moonjo stepped forward and fucking decked Jaeho right in the face. It happened so fast that it was a blur to Jongwoo but he had heard the sickening crack of Jaeho’s teeth against Moonjo’s fist.
…A lovely sound, indeed.
Jongwoo watched Jaeho go down like a pile of bricks on the cold winter concrete and couldn’t help but feel a rush of surprised vindication. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Moonjo do something so uncalculated and irrational before. Especially not in public.
It… It was different. It was nice.
Jieun squeaked at the display before her, seeing her fiance go down and stay down so easily must have been embarrassing for her. Jongwoo idly wondered how Jaeho would smile for their wedding pictures now that one of his front teeth was missing.
Jongwoo laughed dazedly. The alcohol was hitting him harder than it usually would. He hadn’t been drunk in months. His tolerance must have gone down.
The punch to the face probably hadn’t helped either.
He laid his head back down on the concrete and closed his eyes.
Moonjo hadn’t mentioned the child since then. It must have seemed like a taboo topic to him. A ticking time bomb. He was no less weird- affectionate- no less himself, the only difference was that there was something between them now that had not been there before.
Jongwoo had anticipated a shift in their dynamics, but this was almost stranger. To have nothing happen after such a revelation… It felt almost wrong.
-But perhaps he changed enough for the both of them.
The morning sickness had been around for weeks at this point… But soon after came the sore feet, the mood swings, the odd food sensitivities. They were hell on earth and Jongwoo hated each and every weird addition to his life as soon as they arose.
…The one he hated the most, however, was the cravings.
“That meat that the landlady prepared, back in Eden.” Jongwoo had Bomi at his feet and his computer on his lap. He’d been trying to write but had been all of a sudden plagued by a specifically horrifying pang of hunger.
Moonjo looked up at him from his book, an eyebrow raised. “What about it?”
“Was it actually human meat?”
“I'm sure you know the answer already.”
Jongwoo frowned. He did know the answer. He just didn’t want to consider the implications of it. “I hated it back then. I thought it was too gamey…”
Moonjo cocked his head to the side. “May I ask why you’re bringing it up now?”
"...Because I can’t stop thinking about it.” Jongwoo put his face in his hands and let out a frustrated sigh. “Out of all the things to want to eat…”
There was a delightedly surprised tinge to Moonjo's dark eyes that made Jongwoo’s stomach swirl with unease. “...You’re hungry for it?”
“No.” Jongwoo curled his lip, “In theory it still turns my stomach to even think about it- but the…” He trailed off. “It probably has to do with the hormones or something. Weird cravings aren’t uncommon but this is fucked up. I’ve got it in my head that that meat would be the most delicious thing in the world right now.”
“I could get you some.” Moonjo replied simply.
He did not elaborate on where or how or… who.
“No.” Jongwoo shook his head. “You’re not supposed to eat raw meat when you’re pregnant.”
Neither of them mentioned the fact that you probably weren’t supposed to eat people, either.
Moonjo seemed entirely amused by it nevertheless. “...I suppose they are half you and half me.”
It was the first time Moonjo had mentioned the child outright and it sent a rush of intrigue up Jongwoo’s heart.
“Perhaps their tastes are genetic?”
Jongwoo made a face. “No one is genetically a cannibal.”
“Do you know many cannibals that have procreated?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know, Jagiya?”
When Jongwoo came to once more, he was laid out on a familiar bench that he would recognise from the hardness alone. Seoul police stations weren’t best known for comfortable places to rest and Jongwoo assumed that was for a very good reason. Nevertheless, there was some reprieve to the hard vinyl against his back this time. Jongwoo’s head was placed in Moonjo’s lap. A factor that only made itself known when he heard the soft rumble of the other’s voice reverberating through his pounding head. Jongwoo could only catch a few words here and there- mostly his own name- so he let himself breathe in the fuzzy atmosphere all around him for a few more moments before the world slowly came back to him.
“I punched Jongwoo. I admit that… But I only did it because he was being aggressive to my fiancee and me. That guy over there- he wanted to kill me! I’ve seen him with Jongwoo before, he’s a total weirdo!” It was the first sentence Jongwoo heard in full against the haze of his mind but he knew instantly who it was that was speaking.
Shin Jaeho. It was always fucking Shin Jaeho.
He wished he was still unconscious.
“Mr Shin, please let us get both recounts of the story before you go around making accusations.” The reliable but nervous tone of a young police cadet rang out sternly against Jaeho’s raving. “Please continue.”
“I drove down to collect Jongwoo after I heard he had been spiked by his supposed friend. When I pulled up, I saw him being punched to the ground by the same ‘friend’ and I lost my temper.” Moonjo said coolly. “I hit him. Once.”
“Just once?”
“Yes, that was all it took to knock him out.” Moonjo admitted.
“You did it completely unprovoked! I wasn’t ready!” Jaeho growled. There was a distinctive whistle to his yelling that seemed to be brought on by his newly missing tooth.
“Shin-”
“You didn’t need to get involved at all, we were just blowing off steam anyway.” Jaeho rolled his eyes, slumping into his seat. “Aish, you two really are like birds of a feather. So sensitive. It wasn’t anything serious… So what if I gave him some soju to loosen him up? It’s not like he was a woman that I was trying to take advantage of.”
Jongwoo tensed a touch but maintained his facade of sleep.
Idly, he wondered how that comparison had popped into Jaeho’s head so easily.
A second older, more morose officer interjected then. “It was a disrespectful thing for Mr Shin to do, but his intentions weren’t bad. Surely an understanding person like Dr Seo wouldn’t resort to violence so quickly without hearing the situation first. If Mr Shin can be believed, it seemed like before the altercation, Mr Yoon was provoking both Mr Shin and Miss Min…”
The younger officer agreed with his superior then. “It's true. Dr Seo, you are usually so patient and collected. What happened?”
“As I said, it was instinctual. I was upset that Jongwoo had been hurt and I wanted to prevent any further harm from coming to him.” Moonjo replied simply in that same nonchalant way he always did. Even still, Jongwoo could tell he was beginning to grow indignant with the police’s line of questioning.
“I wouldn’t say a bloody nose and a hangover is particularly damaging to a strong young man like Yoon Jongwoo.” The older officer said, his gnarled voice was suspicious and imploring.
“Mr Shin claimed that Jongwoo was being aggressive with Miss Min, so he punched him. How is that different from what I did?” Moonjo questioned calmly.
Jaeho looked incredulous. “Jieun-ah’s my fiancee! Of course I would defend her.”
“Jongwoo is pregnant with my child.” Moonjo admitted then, softly. He said it as easily as one would the weather or the time but the reaction within the group was immediate. Even without seeing anything, Jongwoo could feel the stark, shocked silence spread across the room like the plague. “I believe I was well within my rights to defend him and our unborn.”
As Jongwoo continued to feign unconsciousness, he felt Moonjo place a large, warm hand on the slope of his stomach. His bump had been hidden by his typical look of baggy clothes but now that there was attention drawn to it, it was plain enough to see.
Jongwoo knew full well that this melodrama was a ruse made up to skew the authorities onto their side, but even still he felt a strange twinge in his heart. An ugly wanting.
“You spiked and assaulted a pregnant person!?” The young officer said then, incredulous.
“I didn’t know he was pregnant!” Jaeho spat, his mouth was agape in shock. “I… I didn’t even know this weird guy was his boyfriend! I didn’t even know he was gay!” The ugly metallic scraping sound of a chair rapidly moving made Jongwoo bite back a grimace. “Yah! Jongwoo! Why did you not say anything?! I didn’t think you were such a coward!”
“Oppa, stop.” Jieun begged from beside him.
“Stop harassing Mr Yoon.” The rookie officer demanded. “You’ve done enough.”
“Harassing? How dare-”
Moonjo moved his hand from Jongwoo’s stomach up to his cheek.
Suddenly every other sound in the world was clouded again.
Jongwoo opened his eyes ever so slightly to look into Moonjo’s. It was then that he saw something there that he didn’t think he was supposed to. There was a glassy quality to those dark pits of black that Moonjo called irises. Not shiny enough to be teary but beautiful nevertheless.
This protective ruse of his... Perhaps he hadn't realised it yet either- but Jongwoo didn't think it was entirely fake.
“Jagiya.” Moonjo said quietly against the din of the police station. He kept his hand on his face, moving his thumbs in slow circles around his cheekbone.
“My head hurts.” Jongwoo grimaced.
“I had them run a blood alcohol test on you. It was quite high.” Moonjo replied. “But it was only a one-off mishap. You and… Everything should be okay.”
Jongwoo felt boneless with relief.
Moonjo brushed a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead. “Rest a bit more, Jagiya. I’ll wake you up when we can leave.”
When Jongwoo started showing, Moonjo seemed quietly intrigued by it- much like a cat with a new piece of furniture. He was hesitant… Uncertain. He stopped touching Jongwoo’s stomach altogether and instead just stared at it like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
Jongwoo had long since gotten used to the many odd stares of Seo Moonjo so to say he was unaffected by this one was an understatement.
“You can touch it, if you want.” He told him one night. The two of them were in bed, too tired to sleep under the lamp light. Moonjo had his head against his pillow, watching the rise and fall of Jongwoo’s stomach with expressionless eyes and Jongwoo had just caved. “I promise I won’t take it as some miraculous sign that you were wrong about yourself.”
Moonjo was still for a moment. “I think I was born wrong.” He murmured then.
“Maybe you were.” Jongwoo mused.
Moonjo’s face didn’t change but Jongwoo could tell he was ruminating on the concept.
“...Why do you want this?” He asked then. It was free from blame, from indignance- it was purely curious.
“I... I honestly don't know. I just know that I do.” Jongwoo stared at the ceiling, his hands resting on his chest. “I’m not sorry that I’m too selfish to want this too much to compromise… But I am sorry that I’m too selfish to let you go.”
Moonjo’s lips curled upwards. He took a hold of Jongwoo’s hand and kissed each of his knuckles. “I like it when you’re selfish, Jagiya.”
When Jongwoo awoke next he was in the passenger seat of Moonjo’s Hyundai. He was still a little dazed and headache-y- but the fuzziness had gone down significantly.
Jongwoo watched Moonjo’s hands on the steering wheel as he drove. They were stark white and pale as always but right now they gripped onto the curved leather like it was a lifeline. It was the only tell that he could not hide. Those hands of his. They were a map into Seo Moonjo’s soul.
“You’re… upset.” Jongwoo noted. “Like, genuinely.”
Moonjo flicked his gaze over toward him. His eyes were a starless night sky.
"I’m surprised.” Jongwoo added.
“You were being disrespected. Of course I’m upset.” Moonjo said then, almost defensive in his reply. He too seemed to recognise how out of the ordinary it was for him to behave like this.
Perhaps his display for the police hadn’t entirely been a ruse, after all.
“Me getting drunk and roughed up is nothing new.” Jongwoo said, nonchalant. “The only thing different is that I’m...”
Moonjo savoured the statement like one would an accusation. He seemed begrudging of it- bewildered, even. His fingers flexed against the steering wheel, letting the words seep into his skin. He seemed even more confused by his own actions now, contemplative.
“I’ve… Never lost control like that before. I’ve never come so close to ruining everything because I couldn’t keep my emotions in check. Not even when I was young..”
Jongwoo was amused by Moonjo’s inner turmoil. He could see the gears turning in his head and wondered if he’d ever been so entirely stumped like this before.
“Perhaps you do have a bit of love for the semantics in this world, after all, Dr Seo.”