Chapter Text
Early Spring, 2022
Dan sighed heavily as he tapped on the ‘Confirm’ button and felt his misery climb higher.
There it went: what was left of his monthly paycheck drained after the last online banking transaction. He lived every day trying not to spiral about how his late twenties had devolved into an unforgiving series of unfortunate events, but it was kind of hard not to dwell on it sometimes.
Part of him wished he could travel back in time and still be an undergrad.
Dan was optimistic about the future back then. He’d had a stellar transcript, and picking up side gigs to drum up some cash wasn’t as bad. His grandmother was still relatively healthy; he’d had a social life, shared a dorm with a hoobae who used to nag Dan about his smoking and threatened to deck him in the face if he didn’t stop. (Jaekyung could have, but he never did).
Joo Jaekyung…
They had their differences and their gripes, but Dan would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the odd companionship he’d found with the younger man. Jaekyung was hot-headed, a little impulsive, gave off constant ‘I don’t give a fuck’ vibes, a bit of a delinquent, and, truthfully, scary, but for the most part, he reminded Dan of a surly and grumpy cat.
Shame that Jaekyung dropped out…
Dan never saw him again after he himself graduated, and only got one last text from Jaekyung, telling him that he had stopped going to university after his second year of undergrad.
Life just got harder after college graduation, what with his grandmother receiving a cancer diagnosis and especially after that incident in the hospital.
Dan could vomit just thinking about it.
He blinked and squinted at the back of the headrest in front of him as Dan tried to calm himself down. He was twenty minutes away from the next bus stop. He may have been blacklisted from several hospitals around Seoul, but at least they hadn’t revoked his physical therapy license.
Because those freelance PT jobs paid more than his stints at a convenience store, for sure.
And Dan’s latest assignment?
Come to a gym at a specific location in Seoul to treat professional athletes.
Part of him knew he should have known better than to trust a vague job description he found online, but the payout was too good to ignore, and they did emphasize that they needed a qualified physical therapist to carry out the job.
Dan had expected a lot more after the phone call interview, but apparently, that was all it took.
He was assuming today was the day of the final interview, and, if he was lucky, maybe even the first day on the job.
Maybe this could be his clean career restart? A chance to build it back up again after that creepy director tried to have his way with him and ruined Dan’s life in the process.
Shit…
Dan inhaled and exhaled, counting each breath to calm himself down again. He couldn’t get worked up over that now.
He had a job to do.
=OoOoO=
Park Namwook — the guy Dan had been on the phone with about the job — quickly advised Dan to head to the 5th floor: Team Black MMA Gym. Dan barely remembered exiting the elevator and rushing to the entrance.
He squeezed through the limited space he himself had created at the door, and the idea that he was in a professional MMA gym only sank in the moment the combined odor of sweat, blood, rubber flooring, old leather, and sharp disinfectants hit his nose.
That and someone’s cry of pain, accompanied by headgear flying across the room.
Dan flinched when the object rolled at his feet. It was splattered with blood.
“Huh? I thought I made it clear I don’t want anyone bringing strangers in here while I train. Which one of you clowns decided to invite a guest without clearing it first?”
Wait a minute…
That’s— No, it can’t—
Dan was not short by any means, but he caught himself craning his head back to properly address the owner of the familiar voice and the imposing presence towering over him.
“Jaekyung?!”
The name left him before he could stop himself. No way… This was unreal. Dan couldn’t remember his friend being this tall. Did he grow even more after dropping out? How long has it been? Six years? Seven years ago, maybe?
A myriad of expressions flew across the other man’s face. It started with confusion, eyes flicking towards the brass name tag clipped to Dan’s scrubs, and then the recognition dawned on his face.
“Dan-hyung? What are you—”
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” A stocky man in a red Team Black polo shirt burst through the doors, waving at Jaekyung wildly to get his attention before turning to Dan with a wide smile on his face. “You must be the physical therapist!”
“Physical therapist?” Jaekyung trailed off, scanning Dan up and down as he abandoned the stained boxing gloves on the rubber floors at his feet.
“Yep! He’s your PT for today!” The man agreed, nodding enthusiastically at Dan and then Jaekyung.
“What do we need a new PT for? Where’d the last one go?” Jaekyung huffed, patting sweat off his nape with a towel.
“You knocked the guy flat on his ass because you said he rubbed you the wrong way, remember?” The man in glasses sighed, visibly exasperated at Jaekyung for it. If Dan wasn’t mistaken, this had to be Park Namwook from the phone. The voice was too familiar. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone qualified on such short notice? You’re lucky Doc Dan—”
But wait…
“Knocked him flat— Was that necessary?!” Dan snapped at Jaekyung, subconsciously slipping back into an established dynamic that had existed years ago. Like finding an old trinket in the attic and blowing the dust off of it.
Coach Namwook paled, and Jaekyung blinked a couple of times at Dan, startled at the outburst for the briefest of moments.
“Oh my God, you haven’t changed,” Dan was busy muttering to himself as he rubbed the furrow between his own brows.
The memory of a much younger Jaekyung smashing their dorm microwave with a heavy fist because it was malfunctioning and had died before it could cook the ramyeon played in his mind’s eye.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Jaekyung grumbled.
“It means whoever handled your anger management therapy sucked.”
“I never had those.”
“Yeah, that explains a lot.”
Coach Namwook looked between them, curious. “Do you two… know each other?”
“Yeah, we do.” Jaekyung sulked a little, folding his arms in front of his chest.
Dan jerked a thumb at Jaekyung and said, “Mr. Joo dropped out of uni after I graduated, and I never heard from him again.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t keep up with sports news,” Jaekyung muttered.
“I literally have zero reason to.”
Before Jaekyung could retort further, Coach Namwook clapped his hands together. “Well, that’s great! Saves us the trouble of Jaekyung scaring away a PT. You are heaven-sent, Doc! What do you say to working with us full-time? We could use an in-house physical therapist!”
Well, that was… fast. Way too fast.
“Umm… That sounds like a great opportunity, th- thank you.” Dan bowed swiftly towards Coach Namwook, surprised by the sudden turn of events and grateful for it all the same.
He really needed that money.
“Hey, I own the gym, you know,” Jaekyung interrupted as he walked past them both, beelining straight for the physical therapy room behind Dan.
“Right this way, Doc.” Ignoring Jaekyung’s posturing, Coach Namwook ushered Dan cheerfully. “Jaekyung complains, but he does need PT sessions after a sparring bout, so if it’s all right—”
“Oh, yes! Of course.”
=OoOoO=
There was relief in knowing he got offered a job where he knew his would-be employer at least.
Because that was who Jaekyung would be to Dan from now on if he accepted the offer officially, right? Because Joo Jaekyung apparently owned Team Black MMA Gym, and Dan was one head-nod away from being on their payroll.
Whatever the case, history and past friendships aside, Dan still needed to do a good job. There was no excuse for being subpar when both a handsome and regular paycheck were staring him in the face.
Without preamble, Jaekyung reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled the soaked garment off in one go, glancing at Dan over his shoulder.
“You all right, hyung?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, Mr. Joo.” Dan shook himself out of his thoughts, watching Jaekyung closely as the man went to lie down on the massage table. “You… You really grew a lot, huh?”
He’d bulked up more, had ink etched into his arms where there had only been bare skin.
Well, that was a lame way to put it. But what do you even say to someone you haven’t seen in years after the shock wears off?
Dan wilted at the tone of his own thoughts.
“Seven years and you still flirt weird.” Jaekyung turned his head to stare at Dan and snickered. That familiar uptilt at the corner of his mouth that Dan remembered all too well.
Dan couldn’t help making a face. “Something’s wrong with you if you think that was flirting.”
Jaekyung rolled his eyes. “Get over here already before I change my mind about hiring you.”
“Was that a threat?” Dan chuckled nervously, but obeyed the order anyway and started doing what he came here to do.
“It will be if you keep calling me, ‘Mr. Joo,’” Jaekyung replied with his eyes closed.
Dan worked in relative silence, and Jaekyung didn’t make much of a fuss — just kept his eyes closed. The quiet was surprisingly comfortable, coupled with the muffled sounds of people huffing and puffing outside and the ever-present thump of punches landing on a sandbag.
Too focused on the task, Dan studiously pressed on his current patient’s limbs and legs, working out kinks and knots in the muscles that rippled beneath the bare skin.
How hard did Jaekyung have to train every day to maintain a physique like this? Or was this simply a byproduct of that constant training?
When Dan got that text years ago that the only close friend he’d ever known gave up on university to chase a future drawn on clouds, Dan wished he could have done more to convince Jaekyung to stick with his sports scholarship and finish school before choosing to forego a degree-related career path in favor of pursuing what he was ultimately passionate about.
Truth be told, Dan felt kind of guilty now that he didn’t make the effort to reach out to Jaekyung just to check up on him. He could handle himself fine, but Dan would never forget those humid summer nights when Jaekyung sought out clumsy life advice from Dan, while Dan gave the best answers he could with what little lived-in experience he actually had.
Their situations weren’t all that different back in college — just two unsure young adults trying to successfully navigate a system that constantly failed its most ill-fated citizens.
Well… At least one of them made it out successfully.
“I never really got to say it, but congratulations on all your wins, Jaekyung.” The well-wishes left Dan’s lips almost subconsciously. His hands didn’t stop the work and simply continued.
Jaekyung’s eyes opened a little and stared at Dan. “Thanks. But I mean, I did tell you I’d make it.”
“Yeah, you did.” Dan wanted to say more, wanted to ask why Jaekyung never bothered to keep in touch, but he chose to keep his mouth shut instead.
No use prying about that now…
Jaekyung never bothered to stay in contact, but so did Dan.
They did kind of go their separate ways after that. In hindsight, maybe it was stupid. A part of Dan acknowledged that maybe life after graduation would have been easier to stomach if he’d had someone to talk to. He would never deign to burden anyone with his problems, but it was nice to spend time with someone and forget about the anxieties that plagued you for a while.
“So how’s your grandmother been?” Jaekyung asked, and Dan stilled for a heartbeat.
“She’s all right.”
“That’s good.” Dan breathed a sigh of slow relief when Jaekyung took the answer at face value. “Tell her I miss her japchae and mandu.”
Dan chuckled. Grandma was thrilled when Dan had told her about his roommate a long time ago. She eventually met Jaekyung after Dan invited him to have dinner at his grandmother’s friend’s ramyeon place. She used to ask about Jaekyung a lot after Dan graduated, but the questions dwindled as her health declined, and just like so much of Dan’s life pre-adulthood, the memory of Joo Jaekyung faded back into the past too.
“Maybe you’ll get to tell her yourself at some point.” Dan shrugged as he wrapped up the treatment with one last wipe down. “All right, I think you’re good. Let me know if you feel stiffness or pain in any extremity, though.”
Jaekyung finally sat up and was busy rolling some of his joints to test and see how he felt, and Dan was relieved to note the look of approval on his old friend’s face. Jaekyung was selective with his praise, but when he uttered it, it landed.
“Do you have other commitments today or what?” Jaekyung cracked his knuckles as he watched Dan put away the supplies.
“No, just this one,” Dan lied, deliberately refusing to share the fact that he had a part-time shift later tonight, because that was none of Jaekyung’s business.
“So you don’t mind treating this as your official start date then?”
Dan blinked. “Did you just officially hire me?”
Jaekyung shrugged. “Sure. Expect a contract from Management by the end of the day.”
Well, that was fast…
Dan was still marveling at the realization long after Jaekyung thanked him and left the treatment room.
Dare he hope that things were finally looking up?
=OoOoO=
1 week later…
“Mr. Kim, as your grandmother’s guardian, you should know that the latest round of chemotherapy has not been as successful as we’d hoped, and the patient’s tumor remains more or less the same size. It seems likely that the cancer has grown somewhat resistant to treatment.”
He should have known (or at least expected) that life could only afford him one good week. How could it all go wrong so quickly, though?
On the same day last week, Dan landed a golden job opportunity as a premier gym’s in-house physical therapist. Just when he’d thought he was finally making enough to pay for his living expenses, make a small dent in the inherited loans, and pay for his grandmother’s chemotherapy, a cruel god out there somehow decided Kim Dan was having too good a time.
As important as it was to listen to what the medical specialist had to say, Dan didn’t want to entertain the thought of what could come after cancer treatments failed, what that could mean, and what that would do to him.
Maybe it was selfish, but…
But his grandma was all he had — the one person who labored and raised Dan and gave him the best life she could possibly afford.
“So I was actually thinking,” the doctor continued speaking in spite of the distraught expression painted on Dan’s face, “—that maybe we might try a different tack altogether. There’s a new medicine that’s just completed the trial phase and has been approved for use.”
“A new medicine?” So maybe all hope wasn’t lost after all?
“In my opinion, I think it’s the best hope for your grandmother. It’s just that— Because it’s so new, it’s not yet covered by insurance, and I’m afraid it’s quite expensive. The overall cost of treatment might double or even triple.”
Dan’s hands closed into tight fists, trembling with the thought of the consequences of neglecting the healing possibility of this treatment already. His life was a hydra metaphor — chop off one problem’s head only for nine more to grow in its place. Cruel mockery at the hands of an invisible force that Dan endured every waking moment.
“If we don’t try the new medicine, then—” Dan swallowed around the hard lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. “Then what happens to my grandmother?”
“If not that, then I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do for her.”
With little else left to do, Dan trudged to the hospital waiting room and its distracting hubbub of slow activity. The sterile smell and the white-washed walls helped him think.
If he asked for employment certificates or a payslip, would that be enough to qualify him for a credit card loan? Maybe he could get one, but the spending cap on it would probably only cover two or three months’ worth of his grandmother’s new treatment plan. Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to the doctor’s suggestion just yet?
14.5 million won a month.
A crazy amount.
A number Dan had never even seen in his entire life.
But this was his grandmother; Dan would do anything to help her get better. Even if it meant putting his personal finances at more risk than they already were, he would do it.
Dan twirled the phone in his hand as he ruminated over his options.
Could he be brazen enough to ask someone he knew to cosign a loan with him?
Would that work?
Was it even plausible?
The same train of thought ran in circles around Dan’s head. He went back home to his rundown apartment in the shady part of the city on autopilot, still busy drawing up a list of names from memory — people he’d met in university, old colleagues that he had passable relationships with, one mentor or two. He could ask any of these people for favors. Whether they could help was the real question.
Dan sighed for the umpteenth time this afternoon, bone-tired and down-trodden.
Today was Friday, and he was supposed to go to a company dinner tonight at seven. But was it really much of a “company” when the guys at the gym only said it was an after-work hangout to decompress, grab some barbecue, and down a few drinks?
The thought of the get-together hadn’t even crossed his mind until now, when the Team Black group chat came alive with messages from the guys telling him to come because it was Dan’s welcome party, apparently.
He didn’t even know if he felt like it anymore after the news he just received.
Dan put all his weight on the lip of the bathroom sink, head hung low, the ends of his hair still dripping with the water he’d splashed on his face.
He must have done something truly awful that he couldn’t remember, because why was he being punished like this?
Not even him — his grandmother.
Grandma, who did nothing wrong and always did her best to provide for Dan all his life.
His thoughts remained with her even as he arrived at the barbecue place. Technically, he was about five minutes late, but that didn’t really matter. The place smelled of sizzling pork on open grills and free-flowing booze. It wasn’t hard to find his group — they were the only ones there occupying a very long table. They spoke over each other, held separate conversations, and scarfed down grilled pork belly and side dishes like they’d been starved for days.
It was nice to see other people having a good time.
Honestly, it made Dan forget about how fucked up his own life currently was.
“Oh, hey! It’s the man of the hour!”
“We’ve grilled some meat already.”
“Come on in, Doc!”
Coach Namwook and another fighter — Dan didn’t know the name yet — ushered Dan into the group and offered him a free seat at the table. The others started piling his empty plate high with grilled pork bellies and thinly sliced beef briskets. The sides materialized around his plate shortly after, as the men began introducing themselves officially.
Aside from Coach Namwook, there were Daehyun, Coach Yosep, Yoon-gu (Team Black’s youngest), and a couple of other fighters.
“Coach, where is Jaekyung-hyung?” Yoon-gu piped up.
Dan was busy picking at his food and wrapping some meat up in lettuce.
“Said he had stuff to do.” Coach Namwook shrugged. “But you know how he is. He doesn’t usually come to these things.”
“He also doesn’t drink,” Coach Yosep pointed out.
Daehyun perked up beside Dan and turned to him to ask, “But aren’t you two close? Why wouldn’t he come to your welcome party?”
Dan wouldn’t call himself and Jaekyung ‘close,’ actually…
It’s been years since they had a proper conversation together, and on days when Jaekyung was present at the gym to train, Dan was busy doing his own thing. During treatment sessions, their conversations were nothing more than small talk about the weather, Jaekyung’s training, Dan’s recommendations for avoiding injury during sparring sessions, and the occasional inquiry about what he was up to after work. And if Jaekyung wasn’t talking, Dan wasn’t keen on breaking the silence either.
“Not exactly that close.” Dan scratched at his cheek. “Just dorm mates back in college, but—”
“C’mon Doc! On your feet!” Coach Namwook grabbed Dan’s arm excitedly and hauled him up from the seat. “It’s time for us to officially welcome Doc Dan to the team!” He announced to the rest of their group.
And what better way to show him their heartfelt welcome than to shove a massive empty pitcher between his hands? The thing was practically the size of his head, and not a minute later, it was full to the brim with an unholy concoction of different beer brands.
A welcome elixir, they called it.
Dan was busy downing the whole thing after the entire group cheered and practically peer-pressured him into chugging the alcoholic mix.
It was this rowdy display that Jaekyung walked right into. Empty beer bottles decorated Dan’s side of the table, and the man himself stood before them all, gasping for air after the stunt — face flushed red from all the beer. The guys cheered his name, some standing to pat him on the back, and another started piling more food on his plate.
Jaekyung chuckled and shook his head.
“Jaekyung-hyung!” Yoon-gu was the first to notice. “You’re here!”
“We didn’t think you were coming, hyung,” Daehyun piped up.
“I wasn’t going to, but you forgot to bring the company card, idiots,” Jaekyung scoffed and handed it over to Coach Namwook, who thanked him enthusiastically. He turned to address Dan with an arched eyebrow, “Guess all those nights at Hongdae do pay off, huh hyung?”
Dan flushed an even darker shade of red at the mere mention of the neighborhood, bringing back memories of karaoke and wild drinking games that may or may not have ended well. Dan’s memories of nights like that were hazy at best and nonexistent at worst. Jaekyung, the sober one between the two of them in college, was the keeper of incidents best left unsaid, and Dan wasn’t exactly sure if he could trust the stories that Jaekyung told about those nights.
You never really knew…
Thank God there weren’t pictures of Dan’s embarrassing moments, though.
“Shut up.”
The shit-eating smirk painted across Jaekyung’s lips spelled nothing but trouble.
“Why? It was a funny story. Remember when you—”
“You know I can’t remember anything, you’re being unfair!”
“Can’t remember anything, and whose fault is that?”
“The soju,” Dan lamented.
“Whoa! Doc Dan was a bar hopper in college?” Daehyun interjected.
Jaekyung didn’t answer anymore and rolled his eyes in amusement. If only they knew.
=OoOoO=
Jaekyung hauled Dan’s drunk ass out of the seat as the welcome party wound down to a slow close. While the other men made plans to go bar hopping and maybe stack a few more notches on their bedpost after one hookup or two, Dan was already whining about wanting ice cream.
Yep… This definitely was not Jaekyung’s first rodeo when it came to handling an inebriated Kim Dan.
Dan could hold his liquor better now, but his habits when he got hammered were pretty much the same — maybe just a tiny bit less wild, though.
“I’m not leaving if there’s no ice cream,” Dan slurred, trying and failing to plant himself firmly on the table.
“I’ll get you ice cream,” Jaekyung grumbled and yanked the hood on Dan’s zip-up hoodie to get his attention. “Are you even coherent enough to know what you want?”
“Häagen-Dazs Butter Pecan,” came the automatic answer.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m buying you that,” Jaekyung snorted.
“What’s your money good for if you’re not buying ice cream?” Dan grumbled and started pouting.
Cheeks flushed from the alcohol, Coach Namwook and Daehyun shared a look and laughed. Jaekyung couldn’t even scold them for it. This was their first time witnessing Dan’s drunk antics. Fortunately for them, this wasn’t the same Kim Dan who used to beg for karaoke and sing awful renditions of English songs he barely knew to a crowd of equally hammered strangers.
Jaekyung resigned himself to half-drag, half-lift Dan out the door. None of the other patrons blinked an eye — too used to the sight of drunk people leaving their establishment.
Fuck, Dan reeked.
Jaekyung wrinkled his nose every time the smell of alcohol wafted to his nostrils. He tried to keep Dan at arm’s length, but… Dan was a nonsensical, clingy drunk. Hyung ranted to him about a lot of things back in the day, and Jaekyung wasn’t sure if he could believe half of the stuff that flew out of Dan’s brain when he was like this.
“Jaekyung Jaekyung.” Dan tugged on Jaekyung’s sleeve — behavior reminiscent of an excited preschooler in front of a dessert shop. “You know what would be good?” Dan blinked blearily. “Butter Pecan in Soju with ice. Lots of ice. Like buckets. With hic— Fruit? Pineapples… Bananas.”
“You and your fucking nonsense.”
“Rude. That’s not how you treat a hyung who clearly needs your help.”
“Yeah, but you’re not behaving like a ‘hyung’ right now, are you? Acting like a fucking kid,” Jaekyung scoffed and reached over to steady Dan a bit. The other man threatened to topple sideways.
What the fuck possessed Dan to polish off the entire jug of beer the guys poured in? They were peer-pressuring him into doing it, sure, but Dan could have said ‘no,’ and no one would have judged him for it long-term. Jaekyung was even willing to bet the guys couldn't care less. Maybe it would become part of good-natured ribbing in the future, but that was it…
Not like beer-chugging would have any positive or negative impact on Dan’s employment anyway.
Ridiculous and stupid.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Dan asked randomly, probably flashing back to an old memory from college again.
“I don’t have one.”
Dan gasped dramatically. “She dumped you? Did your shitty ass cheat on her again?”
Jaekyung rolled his eyes as he led them to his waiting McLaren. “I don’t do relationships— Get in the car.”
“Am I being kidnapped?” Dan slurred, blinking as Jaekyung shut the door in his face. “Are you even my friend Joo Jaekyung?” Dan squinted at him as he slouched against the red interior of Jaekyung’s car. “Joo Jaekyung, the MMA star? If you want money, you won’t get much. I just got a new job and my bank account’s got shit.”
Jaekyung made a face, arching an eyebrow at Dan’s descent into drunken babbling. This was definitely not the first time he was subjected to this level of random complaining and lamenting.
“You better not puke on the seats.”
Dan hiccuped loudly and gave a soft, wet burp. “Ew, that’s nasty. If I puke on hic— the seats, will you let me go?”
“I’m not a kidnapper, Dan. It’s Jaekyung. And I swear to God if you ruin the upholstery, I’m taking the expenses out of your paycheck.”
Dan brightened visibly at the reminder. “Jaekyung! It’s been so long! Haven’t seen you in six years since leaving school!”
Jaekyung huffed and gave Dan a deadpan stare. “You’ve been working at my gym for a week.”
“I have?” Dan hiccuped again, blinked, and sat up straight way too fast; it probably jostled his slushy brain. He gasped and then giggled when he realized. “Oh yeah, I have! My clients! Eh~ Hey Jaekyung?”
“What?” Jaekyung found this amusing, but only a tiny bit. This level of incoherency was starting to get on his nerves because it was late, and he really had no intention of going to that welcome party in the first place.
“Do you think hic— Do you think Jaekyung would really get me ice cream because he— Wait— If your name is Jaekyung and I was just talking to Jaekyung—” Dan jerked his thumb towards the general direction of the barbecue place they’d just left, “—how many Jaekyungs exist in the world?”
Jaekyung paddle shifted gears and rubbed his forehead with one hand. He’d never thought he’d hear his name uttered a thousand times in a single night. “Man, you’re really too far gone.”
Dan yawned loudly, giving up on questioning whatever twisted version of reality currently played in his head. He slumped against the seat and started twiddling with his thumbs. “I need ice cream.”
Jaekyung snorted as the car crawled to a stop at a red light, “And water too, while we’re at it.”
=OoOoO=
They did, in fact, get the ice cream that Dan was so badly hankering for at the first 7-Eleven Jaekyung spotted.
Appeased, Dan sucked on the wooden spoon gleefully while clumsy hands fumbled, struggling to maintain a solid grip on the freezing-cold 450ml tub. That little stop left Dan sated and silent for the rest of the car ride. Jaekyung only had to shake him awake once to ask Dan where he lived.
The hilly district in the city… Apartment number 239.
Stopping at the base of the sloping neighborhood, Jaekyung frowned at the state of the place beyond the windshield and poked Dan’s shoulder.
“Yo, Dan.” No response… “Dude… Is this where you live for real?”
Still no response…
And the empty 450ml tub was three seconds away from sweating all over the McLaren interiors. Deciding that he deeply valued the state of his vehicle more, Jaekyung cussed under his breath again and snatched up the empty ice cream tub from Dan’s limp fingers to chuck away into a nearby trash pile. Dan had given him his apartment number. Jaekyung was confident he could find the place on his own, with a knocked-out Kim Dan slung over his shoulders.
“Dan…” Jaekyung tried again, jostling Dan slightly as the man hung off his shoulder.
Oh, he was dead to the world.
Sighing as he resigned himself to a fate reminiscent of 19-year-old Jaekyung playing babysitter for his drunk roommate-slash-sunbae, Jaekyung did his best to stay as inconspicuous as possible as he navigated alleyways that were either deserted or rowdy. Piles of trash up against overflowing bins, flies whirring around rotting food, a small ramyeon shop tucked away and full of its nightly patrons.
Jaekyung stuck out like a sore thumb.
He eventually reached Dan’s residential area — rows of clustered-together apartments labeled with three-digit numbers, lit up by yellow sputtering streetlights.
Dan lived here?
In neighborhoods peppered with vandalism?
Come to think of it, he’d never been to Kim Dan’s residence before — not even during college. Was this where his grandmother lived, too?
Where was she even?
Did they not live together anymore?
The place was small — the size of a studio, a matchbox, with empty beer bottles littered about and a single futon occupying the entire living space.
The smell was what assaulted him first — the stench of mold and something distinctly wet and familiar. God, he detested that smell.
A hellhole, that’s what this was…
“It’s fucking filthy,” Jaekyung grumbled under his breath as he lowered Dan to the mattress.
It was suffocating, actually.
And the roof was leaking too… the fuck.
The sound of rumpled sheets shifting underneath Dan’s weight snagged Jaekyung’s attention once again. In a drunken haze, Dan muttered, “Mm hmm? Who’s there? G-Grandma?”
Grandma?
Jaekyung prodded Dan’s shoulder with a sock-clad toe. “Dan, it’s me.”
Dan seemed to squint, then his eyes fell shut right before shifting around and turning his back to a befuddled Jaekyung completely. “Not now, Jaekyung… Exams at seven.”
=OoOoO=
Spring, 2015
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The bathroom sink had been driving him insane since one in the morning. Thank God for a good pair of earplugs.
But now, sans handy roommate (who up and left to go live with his girlfriend off-campus), Dan found himself crouched in front of the worn bathroom cabinet beneath the sink on a fine Springtime morning, still in his grey sweatpants and oversized university hoodie.
Dan didn't think about it often, but in times like this, he wished the building he'd been assigned to live in had communal dorm bathrooms instead. They were somehow always cleaner and functioned way better than the one in this room.
At least the communal ones had maintenance staff.
Dan squinted at the angular mess of mineral-encrusted pipes inside, debated whether his troubleshooting was worth the risk of property damage, and twisted the red valve experimentally.
"Shit!" Dan yelped, and nearly smacked his head on the lip of the porcelain sink.
The pipe's answer? Cold water to the face.
Grumbling, Dan chucked the wet, unlit cigarette that he'd had pinched between his fingers into the nearby trash bin.
"You're making it worse," a low voice droned from somewhere behind Dan.
A guy was standing at the bathroom threshold. He was so tall, his broad shoulders nearly filled the frame. Black hoodie, worn-out sweatpants, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and a suitcase idling in the middle of the dorm room.
Dan made a noncommittal sound, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed and noted the way the stranger's gaze assessed the length of the pipe.
"Are you the new roommate or a miracle plumber?"
The guy cocked an eyebrow at him, replying curtly, "Both apparently."
"Freshman?"
"Sure."
Dan was rising to his feet when he got a better look at the newcomer's face, and he flinched.
Did this guy just step out of a fight?
His lower lip was split, still bright red and a little swollen, and there was a fresh purple shadow along his cheekbone.
He was definitely young, but there was nothing boyish about him at all.
Before Dan could say anything or bust out the first aid kit behind the mirror cabinet, the guy brushed past him and stepped fully into the bathroom after dropping the duffel bag on the floor.
He crouched in Dan's place and subtly kicked the useless wrench aside. "Would have cracked the connector if you kept turning it like that... You got pliers?"
Dan blinked but fished the tool out of the nearby shower-bath anyway, handed it over, and watched this supposed 18- or 19-year-old guy work. Clearly he knew his way around household plumbing; the lack of hesitation gave Dan the impression that he was used to improvising repairs in shitty apartments.
The guy reached beneath the sink, long fingers moving confidently along the pipe fittings.
"Seal's loose," he muttered.
Dan had no fucking clue what he was talking about, though he was sure he could have found out with a good old Google search and after scrolling through relevant Reddit posts for an hour or two.
"You can tell?" Dan said anyway, just to fill the silence.
"Mm."
He could use a cigarette right about now — a good distraction from this riveting display of competence. His new roommate carefully twisted the fitting, and just like that, the water that had been bothering Dan all night slowed and eventually stopped.
"Looks cheap. Probably used in every sink in this building too," the stranger muttered as he wiped his wet hands on his clothes.
"So you do plumbing?" Dan blurted out and resisted the urge to slap himself in the face for the rather obvious remark.
"I work part-time in construction sometimes. You pick up stuff."
"Right. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Kim Dan, your dormmate. But I guess you knew that by now, huh?" Dan smiled amiably and extended a hand, actively resisting the urge to retract the gesture when it took a second for the stranger to respond — just stared at Dan for a second too long.
"Joo Jaekyung."
He grasped Dan's hand firmly — so much bigger than his own, warm and rough with calluses that divulged a tiny bit of Joo Jaekyung's business outside of school. Dan was trying his best to discreetly assess the minor facial injuries from a distance.
"You a freshman too?"
Dan shook his head and walked past Jaekyung, beelining towards the cupboards where he kept snacks. "Third year."
"Ah, Dan-sunbaenim..."
"Yeah, have you eaten yet? I've got extra ramyeon," Dan offered with a friendly smile, already busy prepping processed food on the limited countertop space.
“But that’s—”
Dan waved off the hesitance that showed on the younger man’s face and shook the cup at him again. “Take it as my thanks for saving me the trouble of hiring a plumber or waiting for maintenance to come… If they come, that is. You can never really tell at this point.”
“They’re that unreliable?” Joo Jaekyung parked his mid-sized suitcase in front of the only wardrobe in the room.
“In the worst times. Feel free to move your stuff in, by the way. There’s enough empty space cleared out when my last roommate left.”
“Where’d they go?” Jaekyung pried the closet door open a little and peered inside, noting the abundance of space and the sparseness of clothes.
“Moved off-campus with a partner.”
“Ah.”
“What’s your major, Jaekyung-ssi?”
“Sports… I think.”
Dan frowned a little, watching as Jaekyung moved around the space that suddenly felt small (now that there were two men in it — one definitely larger than the other. He dumped a few things onto a sheetless mattress before moving on to the wardrobe and its considerable free space.
Were those boxing gloves? And tape?
“You think?” Dan voiced out instead. The thin plastic covering the ramyeon made noises in his hands as he fidgeted while staring at the slowly increasing pile of safety gear on his new roommate’s bed.
Also, what sort of university student willingly applied for higher education and could afford to be nonchalant about it? Even neglecting to remember what they signed up for entirely.
Jaekyung shrugged, placing a few folded shirts and shorts on the empty shelves. “Doesn’t really matter. And you?”
“I’m majoring in physical therapy,” Dan replied and glanced at his familiar side of the room where anatomy textbooks began to resemble mid-level skyscrapers and coffee rings decorated the edges of open notebooks.
“You must be smart, huh?”
Dan laughed, waving off the assumption that always came with med-aligned students like himself. “I try. It’s a lot of work. But don’t worry about that just yet. Freshman year is supposed to be fun, and I remember mine fondly.”
“Really?” Jaekyung looked genuinely curious, eyebrows pulled together by healthy doses of skepticism.
“Join great clubs and meet new people; it’s not so bad.” Dan nodded to himself then asked, “Do you play a sport?”
“Martial arts.”
Well, that explained the dense build and the boxing gloves.
“Cool! You must know so much about self-defense.”
“Yup.”
With little else left to say, Dan pressed again. “Yeah… So… Ramyeon?”
It took him a moment; Dan noticed Jaekyung’s gaze lingering on Dan’s side of the room, eyeing the jar with traces of black ash and cigarette stubs sitting on the windowsill.
“Sure.”
=OoOoO=
Early Spring, 2022
Since when did the ceiling in his apartment seem so high?
Did he buy contemporary-art-themed chandeliers? Since when?
How much did those cost?
Dan groaned and blinked, trying to dispel the bleariness of the world around him. Was his apartment always this bright? But then he moved, and the migraines started — an insistent pulsing ache at his temples that had him begging for Aspirin first thing this morning.
He seriously needed to shut those drapes—
Since when did I have drapes?
“Where am I?” Dan croaked, blinking and squinting against the light. Fighting through the jackhammers giving him brain damage. Had this been any other time, he would have appreciated the softness of the sheets underneath his palms. “What is—”
“Oh, you’re awake.”
Dan sprang into a sitting position at the sound of that familiar voice. Jaekyung was standing at the doorway, one hand still resting on the handle while the other stayed hidden in the pockets of his grey drawstring sweatpants.
“Catch.”
A water bottle sailed across the room. Dan flinched when it landed on the mattress, immediately leaving wet imprints on the duvet. Reaction-time still sluggish thanks to leftover alcohol in his system, Dan stared at the object, and then at Jaekyung.
“How… did I end up here?” Dan asked slowly, before quickly following up, “Am I in your house?”
“Booze. And yes.”
Dan groaned and rubbed his forehead, as if the motion could somehow bring back memories of the night before, long buried in clouds of alcohol. “What… happened after I drank all that alcohol? I can’t remember anything…”
A low whistle sailed past Jaekyung’s lips as he folded his arms in front of his chest and supplied the answer Dan was less inclined to believe. “Well… You sang a bad rendition of that song from the Titanic, asked the waiter if he could take you back to his place, scared Namwook-hyung when you demanded ice cream, and then tried to sleep in the middle of the road.”
What the fuck…?
“You’re… lying.”
Jaekyung arched an eyebrow, maintaining that infuriating poker face. “How would you know? You can’t even remember anything.”
“I don’t do stuff like that,” Dan protested weakly as he rubbed his eyes and cracked the seal on the bottle cap.
Jaekyung laughed a little as he moved towards the glass. He jerked the drapes with a quick flick of the wrist to cover the windows a bit, so the room could reflect Dan’s miserable mood.
“Those Hongade outings say otherwise.”
“That was like seven years ago.”
“Fine. Calm down, hyung,” Jaekyung placated poorly while Dan tried to glare menacingly. “You passed out after downing the jug… Stupid idea, by the way. So I brought you here to sleep it off, and that’s it.”
Dan coughed after taking another sip of water. “Really?”
“Now you don’t believe me?”
“Accurate reporting is not your strong suit.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Ugh, my head hurts. You got Aspirin by any chance?”
The men left what Dan presumed was the guest bedroom. He followed Jaekyung through what seemed to be a second-floor hallway, and carefully descended the steps after his sober friend. All the while, Dan couldn’t resist ogling at how pristine Jaekyung’s residence was. Dark hardwood floors and marble tiles, expensive furniture, wall fixtures probably bought at fancy auctions, and a fully fitted kitchen asking for a Michelin chef’s presence.
The place was massive and tastefully decorated… yet strangely felt empty.
It felt like a showroom.
Dan shuffled forward on slippered feet, resting his elbows on the quartzite countertops while Jaekyung rummaged in a corner cupboard.
Jaekyung slid the bottle of over-the-counter headache meds towards Dan, and he downed them quickly, sipping more water and praying silently for the drugs to take effect sooner rather than later.
“You have a nice place,” Dan complimented, doing his best to ignore Jaekyung’s intense gaze on him.
“Thanks, I bought it.”
Dan smiled and squeezed the bottle between his hands. In the morning light, surrounded by physical representations of Jaekyung’s social status, it was hard not to assess him and cross-reference this imposing image of the man with the appearance of the boy firmly set in Dan’s memories.
Joo Jaekyung, in head-to-toe casual AMIRI under a Thom Browne cardigan, residing in a penthouse that might have been featured in an architectural magazine double-spread, now observing Dan like he was a specimen under a microscope.
Maybe he shouldn’t have carelessly drunk the massive pitcher of ‘welcome elixir’ from the night before.
Sobriety would save you from embarrassing situations… Like waking up in your employer’s house because you were too shitfaced to take care of yourself last night.
Dan wanted to crawl into a hole after this.
“Thanks for taking care of me, Jaekyung. I know better than to get blackout drunk like that, so I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“Eh, I’m used to it.” Jaekyung brushed it off. “More importantly, where’s your grandma, hyung? I took you home last night before I let you crash here, and I didn’t see her. I thought you two lived together.”
“I— Um…”
“Also, why do you live there? Couldn’t find a better place?” Jaekyung continued, descending into a streaming rant that Dan could barely get a word-in edgewise. He tilted his head at Dan, dreadfully curious and infuriating in his assumptions. “Don’t look at me like that; your place is gross, and you know it. Our dorm in uni was better than that. You should move out, I’m serious—”
“Jaekyung…” Dan interrupted with a slight tremor edging into his voice.
Dan knew Jaekyung’s compulsions, familiar with his mannerisms, knew how tactless he could be, but that… That was just—
‘... Your place is gross, and you know it.’
As if Dan didn’t live in that apartment for the past two decades of his life and then some.
As if Dan didn’t see the worn and torn parts of the shelter that needed repairs and would cost him millions of won. Millions that he had been putting into his grandmother’s treatment because she deserved to get better and live as much of her life as she could.
As if Dan had the luxury of choice.
The last time he had seen Joo Jaekyung, they had both been young adults barely out of their teens, dreaming of carving out places they could occupy in the wide world. And now six years later, one of them had clearly made it while the other still waded around in the mud and mire in search of something solid to climb onto.
The fact that he had barely made anything of himself after graduating with a stellar transcript and a complete four-year bachelor’s degree was already embarrassing; he did not need to hear this from someone who, six years ago, could probably only dream of walking on marble floors.
And here was Joo Jaekyung strutting around and saying the most thoughtless things as if he’d never been in Dan’s position a day in his life.
Man, he wished moving out was as easy as packing up his and his grandma’s stuff and choosing somewhere else to live. No medical bills, no loan interests, no inherited debts.
“Jaekyung,” Dan repeated his name, swallowing thickly as he continued to speak, “Where and how I live right now is none of your business—”
“What are you—”
“I have to go. Sorry again for the imposition. I’ll see you in the gym, Mr. Joo.”
If Jaekyung made any attempts to stop him, Dan didn’t know. All he could focus on was leaving that place and its opulence behind — leave Joo Jaekyung sitting pretty in his throne of glass and marble.
This is so humiliating…