Chapter Text
They track the man of God down to a church.
Since it’s way past midnight, the parking lot is near-empty when Seungmin steers his car onto the gravel. There’s a single white SUV parked right by the doors of the old, well-kept building. For a second, Seungmin feels tempted to park right next to it, just for the shits and giggles.
He drives all the way to the other end of the parking lot instead, parking next to the black Aventador sitting in the dark. The headlights of the supercar are switched off, but there’s the bright-white glow of a phone screen illuminating the faces of the people inside. Heavy metal disrupts the night when the driver-side door opens.
Seungmin can’t help but grin at the sight of his friend. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Minho in sweatpants, if ever. It also makes him feel a little bad about having called him out of bed so late. Technically, Minho has left their field of work. He’s only here as a favour.
Seungmin doesn’t feel bad enough to not make fun of him, though.
“You brought your boyfriend?”
Minho doesn’t look back at his car, at Jisung who is sitting in the passenger seat of the Aventador, head bopping along to whatever atrocity he’s blasting on the radio. Seungmin is pretty sure Minho doesn’t need to look. At this point, he’s convinced Minho has a sixth sense that tells him exactly where Jisung is at all times.
“Jisung goes where I go.”
Seungmin hums, getting his briefcase from the backseat of his car. “And here I always thought it was the other way around.”
Minho kicks at his leg. Not very hard because otherwise Seungmin couldn’t walk anymore, but it’s definitely hard enough to bruise. “You know what I mean. Don’t make me use the couple ‘we.’”
Seungmin kicks right back. “You love using the couple ‘we’ for you and Jisung.”
“I just love Jisung.” Minho’s tone is matter-of-fact, but Seungmin doesn’t miss the awe underlying his friend’s words, as if he can’t quite believe he gets to say this.
Seungmin gets it.
“And you’re sure precious Sungie isn’t going to freak out once you unpack your sniper rifle?”
“I think he kind of realised that I’m a hitman when I killed a dozen people for him.” Minho shrugs, but the glint in his eyes is nasty. Sharp, like it only ever is when Seungmin says Jisung’s name like that. “Not all of us hide our work life from our partners, you know?”
It’s a low blow. Or it would be, if Seungmin cared what Minho has to say about his relationship. He doesn’t. Minho knows about Jeongin because the fucker was already working for Chan when Seungmin joined the ranks, but that doesn’t give Minho the right to judge Seungmin. Minho killed a bunch of people because his boyfriend spent one night tied up in a bathtub. Seungmin thinks he’s justified in not telling Jeongin about the grittier details of his job.
“Whatever, just don’t kill anyone because you got bored.”
Minho frowns in the direction of the church. “I thought the old fuck was alone?”
“He should be, but who knows? Just…aim for the leg if he’s brought some muscle.”
Minho smiles, making absolutely no promises as he heads for his trunk. Seungmin leaves before he has to see what else Minho has brought except for his boyfriend.
It’s as cold inside the church as it is outside.
Seungmin crosses himself with holy water upon entering. He used to be a good catholic boy so he still knows what to do, even if he is neither good nor catholic nor a boy anymore.
The man he is looking for sits in the front pew, eyes fixed on the huge cross hanging on the wall behind the altar. It’s covered in gold. Almost everything inside the church is. Seungmin finds it distasteful.
“Father Choi.”
The priest turns his head when Seungmin sits down next to him. It’s not the first time they’re meeting so there is no need for introductions. On the contrary, this is the last time they’ll meet so Seungmin doesn’t bother being polite anymore.
“I’ve brought you the contract you refuse to sign.” His briefcase opens with two loud clicks. In the eerie silence of the church, the noise echoes.
Father Choi looks at the papers Seungmin presents him with as if they’re from the devil himself. Then again, they kind of are.
The old man isn’t polite either when he glares at Seungmin. “I think this classifies as stalking, Mr Kim. I’ve already told you that I won’t take your offer. Coming here was a waste of your time.”
Yet you came here because you know this is the end. Seungmin huffs. This old bag of shit is really getting on his nerves. His misgivings don’t seem to escape the Father’s notice.
“You glaring at me won’t change my mind, boy.” The way Father Choi speaks is nothing short of patronising, as is to be expected of a man who considers himself holy. It makes Seungmin want to sock him in the face. “I won’t sign those papers. We both know who sent you. Do you think you’ll see heaven, working for a man like Bang Chan?”
Seungmin smiles, which only seems to rile Choi up further. “If you know who I work for, you should know that there’s no use in trying to avoid the inevitable, Father. What we’re offering you is a fair price, far above market value. Honestly, the offer is in your favour. You should take it before it’s gone.”
Father Choi glares at him.
Seungmin shakes the papers. “Sign.”
Choi outright scowls at him. “You’re young so you have to think yourself too good for the world, but this arrogance is going to lead you nowhere, Mr Kim. I already said I have no interest in taking your offer. This church is my life’s work! I will not abandon it just because your boss wants the ground it stands on.”
Seungmin’s patience is at its end. He sighs and slides his phone out of his breast pocket. It’s a blessing he keeps his entire camera roll in dedicated folders so he doesn’t have to search for very long. He finds the right video, taps on it and then turns the screen.
The Father’s eyes nearly bug out of his head while he watches himself, passed out on the bench inside the private room of a noraebang. His shirt is off and his fly is open. Seungmin cut out the parts where any of the hostesses could be seen, but it’s obvious what’s going on. If that wouldn’t do it, the carnival of illegal substances on the table ought to.
Seungmin is honestly surprised that Father Choi looks surprised. They didn’t even stage any of these incriminating details. The Father did all that by himself. Slimy, clichéd bastard. The holier the man, the more devious his deeds.
“You know, I think your congregation might forgive you the hookers, but the coke is a different matter. You know what this country thinks of drugs.”
Father Choi gapes at him like a very unattractive fish before he splutters, “You—you can’t do this!”
“Oh, but I will.” Seungmin smiles. “I absolutely will.” Turning his phone screen back to himself, he swipes to get into his notes, reading out the phone number at the top of the page.
With every digit, the Father pales.
“...two, five, three,” Seungmin finishes. “That’s your wife’s number, isn’t it? Should we ask her what she thinks? I’ve got her on speed dial.”
The Father makes a grab for him. Seungmin dodges, kicking at the Father’s leg so the man crumbles to the floor. On his knees, Seungmin likes him a lot better. He crouches down so they’re eye to eye again, comforted by the red dot of light appearing on the Father’s chest. He doesn’t know whether God is watching this, but Lee Minho sure is.
Seungmin takes the papers off the bench and forces a pen into Father Choi’s hands.
“Sign the contract,” he says for the last time. “Is this not what your god is telling you to do? Would he not want you to save yourself?”
The pen nearly breaks with how hard the Father is squeezing it. “You look at me with so much judgement, but you’re no better than me! Really, you have no right to look at me like this! I’ve dedicated my life to helping people! What have you done? Helped your boss take control of half the city?”
Abusing people’s desperate search for belonging is a sin, Seungmin wants to say. Stealing from the tithe basket is a sin, he wants to say. Making people think you are their saviour reborn is the height of blasphemy. He saves his breath.
He’s long since learned that bad men do not have to be told that they are bad. They are well fucking aware. It’s a choice they make every morning when they get up.
Seungmin would know.
“I’d say it’s at least two-thirds by now.”
Choi splutters. “What?”
Seungmin sighs. It’s late and he’d really like to go home now to his warm bed and even warmer fiancé. He takes the Father’s hand and pulls it toward the right spot on the paper.
“Sign the damn contract. It’s not like we’re closing shop. We’re just deposing you. The church will come to be under the patronage of the Bang Foundation and you can take the money to live the rest of your life on an island somewhere where no one has to deal with your egomaniacal self. It’s as good as it gets for you, so sign.”
Father Choi glares at him. Seungmin holds his gaze, unblinking until Father Choi looks away. At the contract, finally. With a shaking hand, he signs it.
Seungmin rips it out from under his hands before the Father can do something exponentially stupid like change his mind.
“Thank you,” he says as he gets up. “The agreed-upon sum will be transferred to your bank account come morning. If you have any questions, you may send me an e-mail. My card is inside the envelope.” Seungmin pulls a brown manila envelope from his briefcase, dropping it at the Father’s feet. “Here’s your copy of the contract. Have a good night.”
Some very unholy cursing accompanies Seungmin out the doors.
Seungmin doesn’t take it to heart. He’s dealt with way worse than being insulted by a cult leader. All that matters to him is the signed contract in his briefcase. Another job well done. His hands itch for a cigarette but Jeongin is going to kill him if he crawls into bed smelling of smoke so he doesn’t.
It seems that not everyone matches his level of self control.
Much to Seungmin’s chagrin, his lifeline is playing tonsil tennis with his boyfriend when he returns to his car. Jisung is barely visible where Minho’s got him pinned against the hood of the Aventador.
“If either one of you has his dick out I’m suing you for indecent exposure.”
His friends’ lips disconnect with a disgustingly wet squelch and Jisung’s head pops up over Minho’s shoulder. He grins, wriggling one arm out from under the prison of Minho’s arms so he can wave at Seungmin.
“Seungmin-hyung, hi!”
“Oh hi, Sungie.” Seungmin answers him in a sickly sweet sing-song voice, simply because he knows it’ll piss Minho off. “Almost didn’t see you there.”
Minho lifts his head from the crook of Jisung’s neck to glare at him. He really hates it when Seungmin uses that name on his boyfriend.
Jisung, none the wiser, manages to extract the rest of his body from Minho’s arms, sliding off the hood. He doesn’t get very far because Minho catches him before he can get away, pulling him back against his chest. Jisung, bless his heart, is unfazed, merely reaching up so he can blindly pat Minho’s head.
He’s got the decency to hold eye contact with Seungmin as he speaks, “Did everything go well? The guy signed the contract?”
“He did.” Seungmin briefly shakes his briefcase. “Thank you for lending me your guard dog.”
As if prompted, Minho shows him his teeth, but he doesn’t argue with what Seungmin has said. He can’t.
“You’re welcome.” Jisung grins. “Minho won’t admit it but he was worried when you called.”
“I was not!”
“Pfft.” Jisung tugs on Minho’s ear to punish him for lying.
Seungmin has seen Minho break people’s bones because they annoyed him by breathing wrong. With Jisung, he merely pouts. His expression drops into a proper glare when Jisung continues talking to Seungmin, “You can call anytime, really! I know you two miss each other.”
“We do not!” Seungmin and Minho say at the same time.
Jisung giggles. “Right. Anyways, it’s late so do you need Minho for anything else?”
Seungmin shakes his head. “No. I’ve got to get home. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome,” Minho says, but he’s not glaring anymore and Seungmin can hear the “anytime” in his tone.
In the end, they are friends. Seungmin isn’t quite sure how it happened, but he can’t deny it either.
“Have a good night!” Jisung waves. “And tell Jeongin I said hi.”
Seungmin blinks. “Will do.”
It’s still weird, hearing Jeongin’s name come out of the mouth of someone he considers part of his work life. It makes something ugly rear its head inside Seungmin, something fierce and protective and terrified.
Jisung is not dangerous though, Seungmin knows that. It’s okay for him to know about Jeongin. It’s okay for all of his friends to know about Jeongin. It takes a couple of deep breaths for Seungmin to believe it, but he does. Slowly but surely, Seungmin is learning to let his worlds blend. It’s not happening as quickly as he—or rather Jeongin—would like, but progress is still progress.
He bids his final goodbyes and climbs into his car. He gets a call just as he pulls off the church’s parking lot.
“How’s it going?”
Chan doesn’t waste time on greetings so Seungmin doesn’t either. He knows it’s a sign of trust. Chan thinks he’s intelligent enough to cut to the chase right away.
Still, he can’t help but be a little bit of a menace about it. “Aw,” he coos, “are you calling because you’re worried about me?”
A beat of silence. “Results, Seungmin.”
Seungmin bites back a grin. “It’s done.”
“Good job.”
Seungmin forces himself to shrug so he doesn’t become too proud. “You owe me the overtime. But, was it really necessary to buy an entire church just because you liked one of the windows? You could’ve just hired a glazier to make you one. ” And saved me a whole lot of headache.
“Felix said the stained glass was pretty when we drove by.” On the other end of the line, Seungmin can hear Chan twist open the cap on a bottle of water and take a gulp. “He should have all the pretty things he wants.”
“You don’t even have a house to put it in.”
“I can buy a house.”
Or a whole neighbourhood, but neither of them mention it because that’s besides the point.
“Well,” Seungmin says, “I’m sure the people of the congregation will be delighted when they find out their favourite preacher got deposed.”
“The charity program that the Bang Foundation is implementing is going to tide them over their pain.”
“Hush money in the form of flea markets and a new soup kitchen?”
“Hungry people do not care whose hand it is that feeds them.”
Seungmin supposes that is true. He was hungry once and sold his soul to the devil to get what he wanted.
“Just don’t call me tomorrow, as in today. It’s my day off and I promised Innie I’d be home.”
Chan hums. “Give Jeongin my apologies. I did not mean to wrest you from his arms.”
“It’s fine. Now promise me out loud so I can sue you for exploitative labour practice if you call me afterall.”
Chan chuckles, taking another sip of water. “I won’t call you tomorrow, Seungmin-ah.”
“You mean today.”
“Whatever.”
Seungmin grins. “Thank you. I’ll return to duty Monday morning.”
“Good dog,” Chan says.
Seungmin doesn’t take offense to it because it’s the truth. He’s the devil’s advocate. He’s Bang Chan’s loyal hound dog.
“Go back to bed,” he says and hangs up.
The gates to his home slide open with a press of the clicker in his middle console and he’s careful to let the car roll into the underground garage. The walls of the mountain-side mansion are enforced, but not soundproofed and Seungmin refuses to risk waking Jeongin up.
They used to live in the city, in a shitty two-bedroom shoe box. After he started working for Chan, Chan offered Seungmin a good deal on several very nice top-floor apartments in the inner city, but Seungmin wanted a house in the mountains. Away from the lights and noise, he went for a house with glass walls so Jeongin could see nature when he looked out of the window. It was important to Seungmin that Jeongin could see the sky at all times. He wanted Jeongin to feel like he was allowed to go outside.
It’s the same reason the house is a lot more colourful on the inside than the clean, hypermodern concrete facade would let anyone suspect. Seungmin let Jeongin do everything he wanted with the house, including painting the walls of the kitchen an obnoxious shade of orange. As long as it made Jeongin happy, Seungmin was fine with it.
He enables the alarm system at the garage door before he takes the stairs up into the house, careful not to make too much noise. The clock on the microwave tells him it’s nearly four a.m. when he takes a quick detour by the fridge to get some water.
Their bedroom is quiet when Seungmin enters. Jeongin is sprawled out diagonally across their bed, cosy in a hoodie from the university they both went to and with his face buried in Seungmin’s pillow. Seungmin doesn’t hesitate to peel himself out of the layers of his three-piece suit and join Jeongin under the covers. Despite his best intentions, Jeongin does rouse when Seungmin pulls him into his arms.
“Seung…” he slurs, instinctively pressing against him. “...all right?”
Seungmin smoothes a soothing hand over his hair. “Everything is fine.”
Jeongin hums, going back to sleep right against Seungmin’s chest. Seungmin wills the rapid beating of his heart to slow down. He can’t help it, though. He will never get used to this, being able to have these moments with Jeongin. Being able to hold him like this when he shouldn’t be.
Seungmin thinks of the last thing Father Choi told him before they parted ways: “You are going to hell for this.”
Seungmin grins at the thought. He’s come to be a non-believer, but if God existed then Seungmin doubts He hates Seungmin. If He did, why would He have granted Seungmin heaven on earth?
*
Seungmin used to be good. He used to be normal. He used to have dreams of leaving the world a better place than he’d found it.
Jeongin was always the main reason he believed in that idea.
Their life was mundane, but Seungmin loved it. He loved working for an NGO, feeling like he was truly making a difference in the world by fighting for a ban on plastic straws. He loved coming home to an apartment that was always a little too small but never felt cramped. Most of all, he loved his fiancé.
Which is why he thinks he can’t be blamed for what he has become.
He can’t be blamed for what he did when he came home one evening to find the love of his life unresponsive on their bathroom floor.
*
Seungmin wakes up to the steady press of a forehead against the back of his neck. He scrunches his nose, groaning at the sunlight flooding the room.
It’s so bright. That’s what he gets for choosing a home with windows for walls.
Seungmin tries to bury his face in his pillow to escape it. Jeongin behind him makes a sleepy little noise, instinctively tightening the arms he’s got wrapped around Seungmin’s waist. Seungmin covers them with his own, slowly working them off his body.
It makes Jeongin grunt, but a gentle push and some humming does the trick of getting him to roll onto his back. For just a moment, Seungmin allows himself to admire his fiancé. He’s spent almost his entire life looking at Jeongin and he still doesn’t believe he’ll ever tire of it.
It’s just that Jeongin is perfect. The lines of his body, the features of his face, it all comes together to shape the person Seungmin loves. Jeongin is beautiful and he holds so much of Seungmin’s heart that sometimes it hurts to look at him.
He presses a soft, reverent kiss to Jeongin’s chest, right above his heart, before he pulls himself away, heading to the kitchen to make them some breakfast.
It’s Sunday so Chan is going to keep his promise of not calling him in. At least, not until sundown. Seungmin hums along to the radio as he prepares the food. He knows the sound of the blender will wake Jeongin up so he makes the smoothies last, jamming kale and spinach, apples and grapes into the blender.
Over the past two years, he’s learned how to make everything fit onto one tray, arranging the glasses and plates with practised precision.
Jeongin is awake when he comes back into the bedroom, sitting up against the headboard with swollen eyes and half of his hair sticking up.
Seungmin can’t help but laugh at the sight. “When did you fall asleep last night?”
Jeongin only grunts, making grabby hands at him. Seungmin hands him the breakfast tray so he can slide back under the covers. Jeongin doesn’t seem to care much about the food. He places the tray on his bedside table before he reaches for Seungmin instead, pulling him into a kiss.
Seungmin indulges him for a couple of minutes, lazily trading kisses before he gently pushes Jeongin away.
Jeongin whines, clearly displeased. “Why?”
Seungmin ignores him in favour of picking up one of the smoothie glasses. “Food first,” he insists.
With a sigh, Jeongin takes it. He’s learned over the years not to fight with Seungmin over this. It doesn’t keep him from eyeing what he’s really hungry for, his eyes trailing down Seungmin’s chest right to the waistband of his underwear. Seungmin usually sleeps in pyjamas, but he was too tired last night so boxer briefs are the only thing he’s wearing.
“Innie.”
Meeting Seungmin’s eyes, Jeongin wraps his lips around the straw of his smoothie and sucks.
Seungmin snorts, picking up his own smoothie. It tastes, quite frankly, disgusting. “Don’t even think about it until after you’re done.”
“But after?” Jeongin grins, fox-like and so full of life that it makes Seungmin’s heart sing.
He hums noncommittally, ignoring the way he feels a little hot under his non-existent collar with Jeongin looking at him like this.
The minute Seungmin’s smoothie is gone, Jeongin takes their glasses from them and flattens Seungmin to the mattress, fitting his teeth against Seungmin’s neck. One of the many things people wouldn’t expect of Jeongin: he is a biter.
Seungmin groans at the pleasure zipping up his spine at the feeling of Jeongin’s teeth digging into the muscle connecting his neck to his shoulder. Jeongin is not biting hard enough to draw blood, but it’ll definitely bruise.
“Innie.” Seungmin gasps and slides his fingers into his hair. “Innie, breakfast isn’t done yet. There’s also fried egg on rice.”
Jeonging groans into his skin. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat, Jeongin.”
Jeongin pouts, but does as he’s told. In the end, he almost always does what Seungmin tells him to, a habit from their childhood he never kicked.
Seungmin makes sure he’s actually eating with the tray on his lap before he gets off the bed.
“Hey, wait! Where are you going?”
“Taking a shower.”
Jeongin whines. “Without me?”
Seungmin only laughs, leaving his underwear on the threshold to the en-suite bathroom.
He’s standing under the spray, eyes closed so he doesn’t get shampoo in his eyes when Jeongin joins him. Lips attach to his shoulder, large hands kneading his hips. The press of a chest against Seungmin’s back is hotter than the water cascading down on them. Seungmin doesn’t hesitate to let his head fall back against Jeongin’s shoulder, letting Jeongin carry his weight.
He’s so strong. It’s not visible through the pastel-soft, oversized clothing Jeongin prefers, but all of Seungmin’s efforts have paid off. Jeongin still hasn’t gained back all the muscle he used to lug around during their university days, but he’s on his way there.
His boy is strong.
“Hyung.” Jeongin mouths at his neck, the incessant push of his cock against Seungmin’s ass making Seungmin instinctively press back against him. “Please.”
Please, hyung, please, I promise I’ll be good. Just let me—I just want to touch you. We don’t have to go any farther. I promise I won’t do any more if you don’t like it, but if you want to then—Just let me have you once. It’s all I want, please. I promise I’ll make it so good for you.
Seungmin has never been able to deny Jeongin anything. He couldn’t do it that first night they slept together in university and he can’t do it now, mostly because he doesn’t want to. He is Jeongin’s , just as much as Jeongin is his and there is nothing Seungmin isn’t willing to give him.
It’s how they have always been.
Seungmin’s mother used to call them codependent, but that was never what it was. They simply both realised early-on that this was it for them. They are it for each other. Seungmin found the love of his life when he didn’t even know yet what love meant and he has done his damnedest since then to hold onto Jeongin, just like Jeongin is holding onto him now.
“Hyung,” Jeongin breathes against his skin. The sound is almost swallowed by the water coming down on them, but Seungmin would hear him whisper at the other side of the world. He’s so attuned to Jeongin, sometimes it feels like they’re one person, like Jeongin and he are truly one being. Seungmin likes the thought.
“Hyung-ah,” Jeongin says again, properly begging now.
Seungmin grabs onto his hands and guides them lower, hissing when one of Jeongin’s hands wraps around his half-hard length. Water splashes and there’s a low thud when Jeongin’s knees hit the shower floor. A moment later, Jeongin’s mouthing at his ass, keeping on hand on Seungmin’s dick while he’s spreading his cheeks apart with the other.
At the first swipe of Jeongin’s tongue over his rim, Seungmin’s head hits the tiles in front of him and then he’s moaning, grappling at the wall.
Jeongin eats him out with a lot more enthusiasm than he ate his breakfast, lapping over his rim until he can push his tongue inside, wriggling in a finger alongside his tongue once Seungmin is loose enough. Seungmin lets himself melt into the heat coursing through his body, warming him from the inside as pleasure builds and builds within him at every lick and suck of Jeongin’s tongue.
At one point, it almost becomes too much so he squeezes Jeongin’s shoulder, gently pushing him away. It makes Jeongin whine. Seungmin’s cock twitches at the sound and he turns around. Jeongin is quicker than him. A hand wraps around the back of his head to protect his skull and then Jeongin is pushing him up against the tiled wall, pushing the same tongue into his mouth that just was in Seungmin’s asshole.
Jeongin kisses him with fervour, as if he’s scared someone is going to barge in and pull them apart. Seungmin smiles at the thought. God tried and Seungmin won. Jeongin’s worries are unfounded in that sense, but he likes Jeongin like this, desperate and focussed, reverent and awe-filled. Jeongin says his name like a prayer because it is.
Seungmin made him work so hard for it when they were younger that sometimes Jeongin turns into that clumsy twenty year-old again, unravelling at the idea of being allowed to touch Seungmin and crushed by the thought of wanting him while being unable to overcome it. Seungmin won over God in that sense, too.
He leans his head back against the wall, making Jeongin work for his next kiss. He’s so beautiful even with his wet hair clinging to his face, eyes reddened from the water running into them, but just like Seungmin he seems unable to close them.
They couldn’t see each other if they did, so they keep their eyes open.
“You’re going to make me come?”
Jeongin nods, licking spit from his lips as he wraps one hand around Seungmin’s cock and the other around his own. It’s embarrassing really, because looking into someone’s eyes and getting his dick fondled shouldn’t be enough to make anyone come, but it’s the love of his life Seungmin is looking at, that is touching him, and something in Seungmin’s bones sings at that, at the knowledge that they are one, now and forever.
Seungmin isn’t shy about coming. He knows Jeongin won’t allow himself to come until he’s got at least one orgasm out of Seungmin, so Seungmin gives into the pleasure coursing through him, letting it crest. He comes across both of their bellies, the shower water doing well at washing it all down the drain.
Jeongin’s teeth reattach to his neck and Seungmin strokes over the hairs at his nape, whispering filthy praise into his ear until Jeongin comes rutting against him.
“Hyung?” he gasps immediately, finally pulling his teeth out of Seunmin’s skin.
“So good,” Seungmin tells him immediately, keeping up his ministrations in his hair. “Don’t need any more, Innie. Just one is good. Wanna be able to walk tomorrow so just one is good enough.”
Jeongin nods and kisses him, over and over as if he can’t stop. He looks almost shy doing it, which happens sometimes when he feels like he came on a little too strong. Seungmin finds him cutest then.
“I love you, hyung.”
“I love you,” Seungmin gives back easily because it is a fundamental truth of his life.
He loves Jeongin and for him, he’d do anything.
*
They receive the diagnosis on a Tuesday.
“Dilated cardiomyopathy,” the doctor tells them without preamble. “In layman’s terms, that means the left ventricle of your heart has weakened, Mr Yang, and the muscle is now struggling to pump blood. At your age, it’s probably genetic.”
Seungmin has a hard time hearing the doctor over the blood rushing in his ears, the clammy pressure of Jeongin’s hand in his. There’s a poster behind the doctor’s head, showcasing a drawn cross-section of a man’s circulatory system. Seungmin knows it by heart, at the end.
They try to help Jeongin the normal way, at first.
What follows Jeongin’s diagnosis is an endless slew of doctor’s appointments, different medications and discussions of a pacemaker. It’s not right! Seungmin wants to yell. Jeongin’s heart is good and pure, how could there be anything wrong with it? There is no one to answer him. There are only more doctors and nurses and a million tests that eat through their savings at a rapid pace.
The entire process is harrowing, but the tone is hopeful.
“You’re so young,” the doctor tells them at Jeongin's weekly check-up. It will remain the only time Seungmin ever sees her smile with real conviction. “Your chances are good.”
Chances, Seungmin learns quickly enough, are just that. A strike at probability. Chances mean nothing in the face of a concrete outcome. Jeongin’s chances are great until his heart gives out again and he doesn’t wake up this time. Not fully.
“We’re only keeping him in a coma until his vitals have stabilised.”
Staring at the love of his life through centimetre-thick glass with no way to reach him, Seungmin nods. He signs what they need him to sign. He waits. He cannot remember how many nights he spent in front of that hospital room, but he does remember stumbling into the small hospital chapel sometime during the second week. He remembers sinking to his knees and begging God to save the man he loves.
Jeongin does not wake up and Seungmin realises that he’s been looking the wrong way. God isn’t willing to help him and if God isn’t willing to help him, then the Devil will have to.
He makes an appointment at Bang Enterprises the following morning.