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Jongseong wasn’t sure what was happening exactly, only that he was running.
He could feel it in the way his breath kept tearing through him, harsh and too fast, in the way his lungs burned with every inhale and every desperate push out of it. His feet kept striking pale cream sand that looked soft from a distance but gave way under him just enough to make each step feel unstable, almost slippery, as if the ground itself didn’t want to hold him properly. He kept going anyway. Forward, forward, forward, with nothing clear enough to stop for.
He didn’t know what he was running from, not exactly.
Or maybe he did, and that was worse. Something was behind him. Someone. Maybe more than one person. Their shapes stayed too far away to make out clearly, blurred by distance and the blinding light that washed over everything. He kept trying to glance back, but the sun was so bright it turned the whole world into glare and motion and fear. It burned across the open land, made the air seem thinner than it should have been, and left nothing near him except sand and brightness and the sound of his own breathing choking up in his throat.
His lungs hurt. His throat hurt. His chest hurt from the force of running.
And still he ran.
The sun was so bright, Jongseong was scared.
In an apartment in the city, the bedroom sat in that pale, blue-gray hour before morning fully arrived, when twilight still clung to the corners of the room and the light looked soft enough to touch. It was 5 a.m. Heeseung’s eyes stirred open slowly, confusion gathering in them before he had even fully surfaced from sleep. He was on his side, facing Jongseong, with Jongseong tucked close against him in the loose, tangled way people only slept when they had already fallen asleep holding on.
One of Jongseong’s hands was wrapped around him. The other had ended up across him too, his fingers curled against Heeseung as if he’d been clinging even in sleep, holding on without meaning to let go. Heeseung had fallen asleep with him like that, with Jongseong pressed into his chest and their bodies turned toward each other under the blanket.
For a few seconds, Heeseung didn’t move.
He just listened.
The room was quiet except for the low hum of the apartment and the faint, uneven sound of Jongseong breathing. It wasn’t the kind of breathing that belonged to someone sleeping peacefully. It hitched in tiny uneven pulls, soft but broken, like his chest was trying to steady itself and couldn’t. Heeseung’s eyes cleared enough to notice the wet shine on Jongseong’s face, then the way his lashes stuck together a little, and then he understood what his body had already started reacting to before his mind had caught up.
Jongseong was silently sobbing in his sleep.
Heeseung’s face changed at once. He shifted just enough to see him better, careful not to pull away from the way Jongseong was holding him. His hand moved slowly, first over the hand curled around him, then up along Jongseong’s arm, checking him almost by touch alone, as if he could make sense of the dream from the way his body was reacting in the dark. Jongseong’s grip stayed tight. His mouth was pinched faintly in pain, his brows drawn together even asleep, tears slipping down and vanishing into the pillow.
Heeseung’s voice came out soft and still half-caught in sleep.
“Jongseong-ah?”
Jongseong stood at the beach, panting hard enough that it made his chest ache. When he looked back, the phantoms were still far away, but they were already coming closer under the ablazing sun, their shapes wavering in the heat and glare so badly they didn’t quite stay human for long enough to be clear. For a second he kept watching them, chest still heaving, sweat running down his temple and along the side of his face, until the shine of it disappeared into the salt air.
Then his attention slipped away from them.
He turned toward the sea and just stood there, letting the slow waves come in and touch his feet. The water rolled up over the sand in small, steady reaches, then slid back again, never rushing, never stopping. A breeze moved through his hair and across the back of his neck, lifting the damp strands off his skin and shifting them against his forehead. Jongseong stayed where he was, looking at the water with a flat, emptied expression, as if all the fear that had been driving him only moments ago had gone still in him.
Next thing he knew, he stepped forward.
His foot met the water, then the next, and the beach dropped away behind him as he fell into it. The surface closed over his body, cool and strange against the heat still clinging to his skin, and then he was floating near the top, suspended just under where the sky should’ve been. The water above wasn’t clear enough to see through properly anymore, but there was still light up there, soft and distant and blurred into pale shapes. His hair drifted freely around his face. His hands floated open, loose at his sides. He blinked upward, watching the broken brightness above him shift and shimmer while his body slowly sank a little farther down.
There was no panic in it.
For some strange reason, the breath kept coming.
He didn’t suffocate. He didn’t choke. He breathed in fully, deeply, the air filling him so cleanly it almost felt wrong in the quiet underwater stillness, as if his body had decided this place was somehow made for him.
In the dim blue light of the bedroom, Heeseung straightened a little on the bed. His concern showed more clearly in his face now, in the way his brows pulled together and his mouth softened with it, but his voice stayed low and careful when he spoke into the dark.
“Jongseong-ah.”
Jongseong’s face was drawn tight with pain even in sleep, tears slipping down his cheeks and into the pillow beneath him. Heeseung took a deep, sad breath that seemed to steady the space around them, then gathered him closer. He hugged Jongseong entirely, drawing him in tight enough to cover him, but his arms stayed gentle all the same, careful in the way they held him.
One hand spread across Jongseong’s back while the other moved over his hair and the back of his neck in slow, soothing passes, as if he could smooth the dream out of him by touch alone. Heeseung kept him tucked against his chest, chin lowering toward him, his whole body angled around him in the dim morning light. Jongseong stayed trembling in his sleep, held there in Heeseung’s arms while the room remained quiet around them.
Jongseong was still looking up at the water’s surface, where the light above kept breaking and reforming in pale, wavering bands. A few bubbles drifted past him, slow enough that he could follow them with his eyes, and small sea creatures he couldn’t quite name slipped in and out of view around him, brief little movements against the stillness. He stayed there, suspended near the top, and for a moment he nearly let his eyes close.
The water around him felt heavy in a strange way, but not unfriendly. It held him without pressing too hard, and the quiet of it had started to settle over him. He was leaning into that comfort, that odd weightlessness, letting his body sink into it little by little, when something caught his wrist.
Jongseong’s eyes opened at once.
Heeseung was there, holding on to him with one hand, keeping him from falling further for the moment. He had jumped into the water after him, and now he floated close enough that Jongseong could see him clearly through the wavering blur. They were both suspended in what felt like an infinite quiet space between sky and earth, the sounds from above softened into something far away and muffled beyond the surface.
The water was still around them except for the faint movement of their bodies and the slow drift of light. Thin, broken sun rays slipped down through the surface and fell across Heeseung’s face and features, catching on his cheek, his nose, the line of his mouth, turning him bright in the dim blue around them. He looked down at Jongseong with that light on him, wrist still firmly in his grasp, and Heeseung smiled.
Jongseong’s sobs softened a little, but they still kept going in Heeseung’s arms, turning smaller and tighter instead of stopping. He stayed folded against Heeseung with his face pressed into him, his breathing hitching in thin, uneven pulls that never quite caught up with the tears still slipping out of him. Heeseung held him like he was trying to cover him completely, lying close in the narrow space between them on the bed, one arm drawn firm around Jongseong’s back and the other moving with slow, careful attention over his hair, the side of his head, the back of his neck, and down along his arms.
He didn’t rush any of it. His hand kept returning to the same places in quiet passes, smoothing over Jongseong’s hair, then brushing the back of his neck, then flattening over his shoulder and arm as if he could keep him from slipping deeper into whatever held him through the quiet rhythm of his touch. The room stayed dim around them, the blue-gray light of dawn still weak at the windows, and Heeseung’s voice stayed low enough that it seemed to belong to the dark.
“Shh... it’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Jongseong clung into him hard in his sleep, a sharp little recoil that pulled his body tighter around Heeseung’s chest. His face twisted with pain even while his eyes stayed closed, and his hands clenched where they were caught against Heeseung, as if his body knew that voice and was trying to hold onto it with everything it had. Heeseung answered that movement by holding him more securely, palm warm between his shoulder blades, fingers spreading and gathering again in long, soothing strokes that never lost their gentleness.
Heeseung then pulled Jongseong up just enough to hug him really tight, burying his own face into him as he held on with both arms.
Jongseong hugged him back crazily too, clinging with the same desperate force, and they stayed there floating together in that same space, pressed close enough that there was barely any distance left between them. Above them, the water held little rays of blood drifting through it in thin red lines.
Heeseung had been shot by an arrow in his back. The arrow was still there as he kept hugging Jongseong tighter and tighter, and Jongseong hugged him tighter and tighter back. It felt like they were growing roots at the tips of their fingers, their bodies entwining on some fundamental level, closing around each other so completely that it seemed impossible to separate them. Jongseong held on as if all that stood between them and being torn apart was the strength of his grip, his grip tightening every time Heeseung’s arms pulled him closer.
Jongseong kissed the side of his cheek one last time and caressed it, his hand lingering there as if he couldn’t quite make himself let go. Heeseung smiled again, ever so freely and in love and carelessly, one last time in the water and the rays from above.
Jongseong cried openly into Heeseung, clinging to him as if he didn’t know how else to keep himself together. His face stayed buried against him, his tears wetting Heeseung’s shirt while his breath came in uneven pulls that shook through his whole body. Heeseung held him gently, concern and care all over the way he kept his arms around him, and his hand moved in slow passes over Jongseong’s hair and back, smoothing and soothing without ever pressing too hard.
He let him stay there for a beat before speaking, just keeping that slow hand moving while Jongseong’s breath caught and stumbled against his chest. His other arm tightened once, not enough to restrain him, only enough to answer the way Jongseong kept folding in on himself, and Heeseung lowered his chin toward the top of his head as if he could shield him better by getting closer.
“Love, it’s okay.” He said it first with his mouth almost in Jongseong’s hair, then paused just long enough for Jongseong’s next shaky breath to come through before he went on, his thumb sliding once over the back of Jongseong’s neck. “My love. It’s okay.” His hand kept moving, slow and repetitive, from the back of Jongseong’s head to the line of his shoulder blades and back again, never stopping long enough to feel like it might leave. “I’m here.” He shifted only slightly when Jongseong’s fingers clenched harder in his shirt, the mattress dipping under them as he adjusted his hold. “You’re safe.” The words came softer still, warm against the dark, and he pressed Jongseong in a little more firmly against his chest without making it feel like pressure. “You’re in my arms.” He breathed that one out with another careful stroke through Jongseong’s hair, then let his palm settle there for a second, steady and warm, before moving again. “Jongseong-ah, baby, it’s fine.”
They remained suspended in the water, holding on with a desperate strength that only grew. Neither of them was really moving anymore, not in the way he understood movement on land. They just kept drifting, the two bodies held together in that weightless quiet, sinking lower by degrees as if the water had decided to carry them down gently instead of letting them fall.
Jongseong held on with a force that had stopped feeling like panic and started feeling like something else, something deeper and stranger that sat under his ribs and in his throat and made his fingers curl harder where they gripped Heeseung. It felt as if he’d been caught in something he couldn’t see, something bigger than the water and bigger than the two of them, and Heeseung was in it too, tangled with him in a place that felt older than this life and he didn’t have words for. There was a path in it, hidden and soft, leading him somewhere quiet and peaceful, somewhere he didn’t have to fight to breathe.
His face pressed against Heeseung’s shoulder as they floated, his arms still locked around him, and the water around them stayed clear enough that he could feel the light through it more than he could properly see it. It moved over their skin in pale shifting bands. For one suspended second, it really did feel like they were being carried somewhere safe.
Then Jongseong gasped and woke up.
His eyes opened all at once. The water vanished. The room came back around him in a blur of dim blue dawn light, the bed solid under his body, the air cool against his face. His chest rose too fast, one breath ripping in after another, and for a second he looked like he had no idea where he was.
Heeseung was there, already looking at him.
The moment his eyes found Jongseong's, Heeseung's shoulders eased with visible relief, though the worry never left his face. He immediately cupped Jongseong's face with both hands and shifted closer on the bed, searching his eyes as if making sure they were truly focused on him this time. His thumbs brushed lightly beneath Jongseong's damp lashes before he spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "Baby."
Jongseong was panting hard, his mouth open as he tried to get the air to settle in his lungs. His eyes stayed on Heeseung’s face, but there was still something stranded in them, like the dream hadn’t finished letting go of him yet. His brows pulled tight with it, and his whole body looked strained, as if he was still half inside the water.
“What happened?” he asked, the words rough and broken by sleep and leftover fear.
Heeseung’s thumb moved slowly over his cheek while he answered, keeping his voice gentle and low enough that it seemed to belong to the quiet room itself. “You were having a bad dream.”
Jongseong stared at him for a long moment after that, as if he had to keep checking that Heeseung was still there, still close, still real. His breathing kept stumbling. One shaky breath came in, then another, and then the next one broke hard enough that his whole face changed. He lunged forward without warning and hugged Heeseung with both arms, all at once, clinging to him so tightly that Heeseung rocked back a little from the force of it.
For a second, Heeseung only froze there, startled by how hard Jongseong had thrown himself at him. Then he let out the smallest breath and gathered him in properly, one hand sliding up Jongseong’s back while the other came around his shoulders to hold him more securely. A helpless little smile touched his mouth as he kissed the side of Jongseong’s hair, then the temple just above it, slow and affectionate, like he was trying to soothe him back into himself with patient, reassuring strokes
“Calm down, baby. I’m here. It’s fine. It’s okay.”
Jongseong stayed buried against him, breathing against Heeseung’s shoulder in rough, uneven pulls that still carried the last edge of crying. His fingers clenched in the fabric at Heeseung’s back like he was trying to make sure he couldn’t disappear. “Don’t leave me.”
Heeseung’s hand tightened once at that, not out of panic, but in answer, his cheek resting briefly against Jongseong’s hair. When he spoke again, his voice stayed soft and certain. “I’ll never leave you.”
Jongseong went still for a second, but the fear only shifted instead of disappearing. It sat there in him, thinner now, and his voice came out smaller when he asked, “What if I lose you?”
Heeseung didn’t hesitate. He kissed him again, slow and soft, then pressed another one into his hair as if the answer could be given that way too. “I’ll always find you again.”
Again.
Again, like there wasn’t any other way the world could work.
After a while, their breathing eased. The hard tension that had been pulling through Jongseong’s body started to loosen in little steps, not all at once. He stayed folded into Heeseung’s chest, still close enough to feel every breath Heeseung took, while Heeseung kept holding him and kissing him here and there in that sleepy, hazy way that never broke the comfort of it. His fingers moved over Jongseong’s hair, then down along his cheek, then back over his spine, again and again, little by little until Jongseong finally began to settle against him.
By then the room had grown lighter. The blue dark of morning was thinning toward 6 a.m., and the edges of the bed and the walls were easier to see than they had been before. Jongseong was still tucked close in Heeseung’s arms, still safe there, his breathing quieter now as the new light came in around them.
They stayed like that for a while, not really moving at first, just holding on to each other while the last of Jongseong’s sleepiness clung to his face. Heeseung kept kissing him in small, unhurried places, the corner of his mouth, the damp line of his cheek, his temple, then back again as if he couldn’t quite stop himself from finding another spot to touch. Jongseong blinked at him through the haze, his expression still flat with sleep, his hair messy from the pillow and his skin warm from being held so tightly under the blanket.
Heeseung brushed the hair back from Jongseong's forehead, letting his fingers linger briefly at his temple before his thumb skimmed along his cheek. Jongseong let out a long, quiet sigh beneath the touch, and Heeseung couldn't help the smile that softened his mouth.
“You’re adorable when you just wake up,” Heeseung murmured, leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth again. His voice was still thick with sleep, gentle and amused in the same breath. “You look like a donut fresh out of the oven.”
Jongseong stared at him for a second, expression blank enough to be almost offended, then closed his eyes and let out another slow sigh. “Oh my God.”
Heeseung laughed under his breath, warm and helpless, and kissed him again. When their lips parted, he didn't go far. His gaze lingered over Jongseong's face, quietly taking in the softened lines of it while his thumbs rested against his cheeks. After a moment, one hand slipped up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Jongseong's ear, his fingertips lingering there before his thumb swept gently across his temple.
“You’re warm,” he said, like he was noticing it all over again. “And glistening.” His smile turned a little crooked as his hand slid along Jongseong’s jaw. “It’s really unfair. My teeth ache just looking at you.”
That got a faint shift out of Jongseong. He didn’t smile fully, but the corner of his mouth moved, and then his eyes opened again, steadying on Heeseung’s face. His hand came up slowly, not quite awake yet, and touched Heeseung with the kind of careful familiarity that made the apartment stay quiet except for the sound of their breathing.
Then Jongseong’s fingers drifted lower, finding the familiar place along Heeseung’s back, and he paused there. His touch turned thoughtful, lingering on the line of Heeseung’s birthmark as if he was tracing it from memory as much as from skin.
“I think...” His voice was quiet, still rough from sleep. He stopped, his gaze going distant for a second as his hand stayed there on Heeseung’s back. “I think a lot about your birthmark.”
Heeseung’s brows lifted just slightly, his expression softening further as he looked at him. “The one you always kiss?”
Jongseong made the smallest sound of agreement, a little hum against the pillow, and his fingers stayed there over the mark as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to move them away. “Uhum.” His eyes went unfocused for a second, like he’d drifted halfway into some thought he hadn’t meant to say out loud. “I see it in my dreams.”
Heeseung’s hand paused on his hair. Not because he was startled, but because he was listening. He watched Jongseong carefully, the softness in his face deepening into something quieter and more attentive. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Jongseong shook his head a little, faint and slow. A small smile touched his mouth, almost private. “No. I wanna put it behind.”
Heeseung leaned in and kissed his hand where it rested against him, the touch delicate and unhurried. His mouth stayed there for a second before he lifted his head again. “Do what you want,” he said softly. “I’ll be there either way.”
Jongseong looked at him for a moment after that, then shifted a little closer, his hand still on Heeseung’s back, his fingers moving once over the same place as if confirming it was still real. “Can you turn off your clock and skip work for today?”
Heeseung blinked at him, amused despite himself. “Hmm?”
Jongseong’s face stayed serious in that sleepy, stubborn way of his. He looked at Heeseung like the answer ought to be obvious. “I don’t want you to get off the bed.”
The words made Heeseung laugh again, this time softer, breathier, and he tucked his face briefly against Jongseong’s shoulder as if trying not to smile too wide. When he looked up again, his eyes were bright with affection.
“Then I’m staying,” he said, and reached over the side of the bed to turn the alarm clock off.
The small click of it disappearing into silence felt almost dramatic in the morning quiet. Heeseung turned back immediately, and Jongseong’s hand was already at his face again before he’d fully settled. He kissed him once, then again, slow and warm, and the two of them folded back into each other with the kind of ease that didn’t need to be explained.
Outside, the city kept waking up. Faint sounds started to gather in the distance, traffic stirring, someone moving in the building, the day beginning to press in around the edges of the room. Inside, Heeseung stayed folded around him, still stealing little kisses between stretches of simply looking at him. One hand remained tucked beneath Jongseong's hair, idly combing through it before drifting down the curve of his neck and back again, never hurrying, never leaving him for long. Jongseong answered by inching closer each time, until there wasn't any space left to close, and they lay there listening to the city wake while morning settled softly across the room.