Chapter Text
The first thing that Yeosang hears as he enters the humble home of his hosts is yelling. A lot of yelling. And one person crying.
“Well--that’s never a good sign,” San grumbles as he toes off his shoes and hangs his jacket by the door. “Woo, can you get him settled while I check out what’s going on?”
Wooyoung nods and directs Yeosang away from the ruckus in the other room. He distinctly hears someone cry out, “It’s not weird music, Seonghwa! They’re called Portishead. It’s triphop, and it’s the future of music!”
With a grin and a shake of his head, Wooyoung’s hand finds the small of Yeosang’s back again to lead him away from the entryway. The apartment is cluttered in a loving way. Like a home that’s seen a lot of joyous and painful events. Yeosang marvels at the mishmash of decorating styles that litter each room that they pass. There’s paintings and posters with an assortment of different colors and cultural origins lining the walls of one room and nothing but sharp black and white in another room. The bathroom has an odd assortment of trinkets and figurines that seem to have no rhyme or reason where they sit on every available surface. Wooyoung slips into the restroom and shuts the door for a moment leaving Yeosang by himself leaned against the wall across the hall.
“Ya know… we always joked about San and Wooyoung getting into polyamory, but it was SUPPOSED to be just that...a joke.”
The aura of the man who had come up behind him is one of warm confidence and straight forward charm. He is broader than Yeosang but around the same height. His hair is a dark red mop that obscures most of his vision as he pouts around his words.
“Polyamory?” Yeosang’s face contorts quizzically as the word falls out of his mouth. “Ah, I see you’re confused. My name is Yeosang. I’m--”
“We met him today on the trail and invited him for dinner. Isn’t he cute, Jongho?” Wooyoung chimes in from the now open bathroom door to save Yeosang from whatever he had been formulating in his mind.
Jongho’s eyes scan along the lithe form in front of him with a bland expression and he nods. He then squeezes by them to slide into the room that was all sharp edges and black and white. Yeosang looks down to find Wooyoung’s hand intertwined with his as he starts moving back the way they came from.
“So you’ll meet a few people tonight. San is in the kitchen now with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. They fight A LOT. But it’s not real fighting. They’ve been together since the dawn of time. I mean it. They were in cribs next to each other in the hospital where they were born and somehow they just never separated after that. If they could get married, this year would probably be their 40th anniversary.”
Yeosang grins at Wooyoung’s excited tone. He sounds like a proud mother outlining his children’s achievements.
“You just met Jongho. He’s a quiet guy but so talented. He actually introduced us to exploring caves. Did you know people can climb mountains for a living? I had no clue there was a market for it until I met him. He also sings for the choir at the church down the street. Quite a nice mix of brawn with a feather soft touch, that kid has.”
They continue moving down the hall when Yeosang’s attention shifts to the looming entryway of what appears to be the kitchen. Subdued sniffles and a hauntingly beautiful song float from the doorway as they approach it. Wooyoung smiles back at Yeosang and continues, “There’s two other weirdos that live here. I think Mingi should be here soon. Not sure about the other one. They’re both sales guys. Way too loud when they drink. And that means a lot coming from me.”
Yeosang returns his smile hesitantly and enters the kitchen behind Wooyoung.
“I’m sorry, baby. You really have to stop putting the sugar, flour, and baking powder so close to each other on the counter. And in identical containers.”
A petite man with close to olive skin and bright blonde hair sticking in all directions is wringing his hands and pouting down at a man crying softly in a creaky chair at the head of the table.
“I asked you to do one thing. ONE THING. The containers ARE labeled. I told you exactly which one had flour and you still got it wrong. Because you had to play around with your new, stupid stereo--”
“It’s not stupid, Seonghwa, and I was just excited to hear the new Porti--”
“OH SHUT UP ABOUT PORTISHEAD! You only had one job. Now our cake is on fire in the sink and we have NOTHING else to bring to dinner.”
The crying man is probably the most beautiful of all the men that Yeosang had encountered thus far. His hair is a startlingly bright red that contrasts his clear, warm skin tone like overly ripe apples fallen to the exposed Earth in fall.
San steps over and brushes his fingers through the crying man’s hair while rubbing his other hand along the blonde man’s back. “Guys… I mean this in the nicest way possible… it’s just a fucking cake. You really need to chill. Seonghwa, we got plenty of things at the store for dessert. You’re not letting anyone down by not having something prepared. Hongjoong, you really need to go back to the optometrist. Those containers are all different sizes and colors and have easy to read labels. But I will say that I do like this song, so good choice on the soundtrack for the evening.”
Yeosang is back to smiling as he watches the two men calm under San’s reassuring touch. His words seemed to have a tranquilizing effect on the duo who now seem completely lax in his care. So calm that their senses appear to vacate them entirely. Hongjoong’s face crumples apologetically as he loops a leg over Seonghwa’s lap and wraps his arms around his neck in a loose hug. The smaller of the two peppers kisses along each inch of tear streaked skin that he can find as he mumbles out barely audible apologies.
“Oh boy…” San mumbles to himself while walking over to the sink to run more water over the “cake” they had been trying to salvage.
Wooyoung teeters on his heels awkwardly as the two hug and kiss in an alternating fashion. Apologizing back and forth until it’s almost funny to watch. Yeosang has counted over forty kisses when Seonghwa’s chair flies back with a screech. He is out the kitchen door, Hongjoong in his arms, and down the hall in under a minute. The loud sound of a door slamming causes Yeosang to jump and look over at Wooyoung and San with wide eyes.
“So that was Hongjoong and Seonghwa…” Wooyoung explains with a barely suppressed grin.
“Ahh...they are...confusing.” Yeosang says carefully.
Wooyoung’s smile grows wider as he clarifies, “Sometimes I think that they like to argue. Like it’s a part of their mating ritual or something.”
Yeosang nods with an impish grin and takes a seat at the now vacated table. He studies Wooyoung and San as they orbit each other seamlessly while preparing the meal. It’s as if the two men had done this a thousand times and had the process down like a dance routine. Wooyoung passes under San’s arm as San hands Wooyoung an egg as Wooyoung washes a dish as San fries some chicken and so on and so forth. It’s a wonderfully domestic scene that calms Yeosang’s mind. But only for a moment.
What am I going to do?
His mind is endlessly fretting when the front door bangs open. The kitchen doorway is suddenly filled with a tall, smiling man with messy blonde hair and way too many layers of clothing.
“What on Earth are you wearing, Mingi?” San asks as he tastes some concoction on a spoon that Wooyoung has dipped into his mouth.
“Uhh...it’s Gucci.” Mingi responds in a tone both low and precise. “If you had any class, maybe you’d know that.”
The taller man sniffs at the snickering duo dramatically and stops right in front of Yeosang.
“Oh hello...and you are?”
“This is Yeosang, Mingi. He’ll be having dinner with us tonight. We met at the cave today.” Wooyoung responds hastily.
Mingi smiles widely and leans down to hug Yeosang tightly. “It’s great to meet you, Yeosang. I’m Mingi. I’m glad that you’re here.” He releases Yeosang and stands up to his full height. He strides over to the sink to wash his hands and addresses Wooyoung and San again, “How did your sprunking go today anyway? Other than finding the cutie?”
Wooyoung snorts and weaves around San to throw some unused bits of radish in the trash. “It’s called spelunking, Mingi, and it was great. We actually found some pretty cool stuff. Like…”
San backs away from the oven to cut Wooyoung off quickly, “It’s a surprise! We can tell everyone at dinner.”
Mingi nods slowly before continuing, “You wouldn’t believe what I saw at the mall today. There were like eight dogs there. All at the same time. Turns out that service dogs go to the mall to practice being good boys and girls around people. They were so cute, but I wasn’t allowed to pet them because they were working.” Mingi grumbles as he finishes the last sentence. It brings an unwitting smile to Yeosang’s face again as he listens to the man ramble on further.
“Then there was this weird public access show that was happening live on the stage in front of the Auntie Anne’s. I just wanted some pretzels but I had to listen to a thirty minute song about the dangers of heroin. I really don’t understand why kids need a song to know not to stab themselves full of poison.”
The words meant almost nothing to Yeosang, so he finds himself wandering off in his mind. Thinking of a life where he could be a part of this ragtag band of misfits and deviants. He can see it so clearly. Listen to music with Hongjoong, dying his hair funny colors with Seonghwa, dressing elaborately with Mingi, pondering life’s misgivings with Jongho.
And Wooyoung and San… he can see himself doing everything with the selfless pair. Cooking meals, wearing matching outfits, going to see the ocean, hugging and holding hands and everything else that comes with it.
He finds it hard to smile for a while after that thought. Time passes and before he knows it, the table is extended to it’s full length in the dining area and all seven of the men are seated and ready to eat. There’s a strange arrangement of fried foods, healthy snacks, and fruits and treats spread out across the table in no particular order. Jongho and Hongjoong tend to take smaller portions of healthier snacks, but Seonghwa and San seem to gorge themselves on the most unhealthy portions of the meal endlessly.
“So Seonghwa… how is your new class going? Hongjoong tells me that you have quite a few troublemakers on your hands.” San asks while grabbing a chunk of bread from the bowl in front of him.
Seonghwa grins excitedly and wipes at his greasy lips with a napkin. “Oh… I can’t even begin to explain how troublesome these little rascals are. There’s this one girl Rosie that keeps drawing red fruits like apples and strawberries with smiley faces and pointing at them and saying Mr. Park Mr. Park. ”
Yeosang just listens in confused intrigue as the man speaks. He finds it amusing that even though San asked the question, Seonghwa has a tendency to speak in Hongjoong’s direction. It seems, from Yeosang’s perspective, that the two act as each other’s emotional anchors in most things they do.
“There’s also these two little boys that remind me so much of you and Wooyoung. Absolute hellions. Always holding hands and sticking their tongues out at me when I tell them to sit down and work on their numbers.”
Although his tone of voice is borderline exasperated, Yeosang can tell that Seonghwa is positively content with the life he’s been granted.
“What is it that you do, Seonghwa?” Yeosang asks quietly.
“I teach preschool. Really little ones. It’s like wrangling cats sometimes. But really, most days it feels like--”
As Seonghwa finishes his sentence, Hongjoong and San join him in unison to declare, “They’re the ones teaching me.”
Jongho and Wooyoung snort at the sentiment as Seonghwa groans and stuffs another piece of cheese in his mouth.
“Oh--shut up, you two! Jongho, how’s it going with that charity you’ve been climbing for? What was it called again?” Seonghwa asks while shooting a withering glare in Wooyoung’s direction.
“Direct Relief. It’s really cool. A bunch of us have been raising money for the charity and preparing for this big climb later this month. I mean--at the end of the day, all the proceeds will go to Direct Relief, but it is still a competition. Whoever gets to the top fastest is the winner. I just like the fact that the charity gives over ninety five percent of their proceeds away. That seems so rare with non-profits nowadays.”
The group hums along as he takes another bite of his food and continues, “I guess it all goes towards improving the lives of those most impacted by poverty and natural disasters around the world. Medicine, disaster prevention, education. It’s really admirable, I think.”
“That’s good. Sometimes it feels like there’s so many bad things happening around the world. I’m really glad there’s always people out there that want to help.” Seonghwa says with a wide smile in Jongho’s direction. The younger man smiles shyly and nods.
Yeosang picks at his food hesitantly while looking around the table at the men. When he gets to the end of the table, he finds Wooyoung has stopped eating and is staring at him intently.
“You’re barely eating. We spent a lot of time on that food, Yeosang. You should eat.”
Yeosang’s face screws up with discomfort as his eyes fall to his plate. It’s been a long time since he allowed himself to indulge in earthly delights. Would it be counted against him if he partook just this once before moving onto his mission?
“Oh… leave him alone, you mother hen!” Mingi nearly shouts as he puts a whole drumstick in his mouth to strip it of its flesh in one go. He continues with a mouth full of chicken, “So you met these two at the cave today, huh? I thought they said that it was a really dangerous cave. You must be pretty special if you can take on such a scary adventure on your own.”
Yeosang nibbles at a piece of broccoli and swallows. After taking a quick sip of water, he responds in a very straightforward tone, “Of course I’m special. I am an angelic prince sent to Earth by Him to defeat all things most foul and wretched. Some measly cave isn’t going to scare me.”
The room falls silent instantly as Yeosang finishes his explanation. Looking around at the confused, shocked, and giggling faces, he realizes that he probably should have kept that to himself.
“Um,” Seonghwa begins hesitantly, “...An angel? An angel prince?”
It seems like Wooyoung is about to cut in again, but Yeosang clears his throat and puts down his fork.
“Yes… an angelic prince. We’re a higher order of angels that are generally only deployed in the worst scenarios. That’s why I was sent here over two thousand years ago. An unsavory band of brigands managed to stop and trap me in that forsaken fortress. It’s hard to understand why I have awakened, but I believe it had something to do with Wooyoung’s blood making contact with my immobile form. I’m…”
He stops and looks around the table at the multitude of befuddled and nervous faces.
Jongho who climbs mountains to help the impoverished.
Seonghwa who teaches children as if they were his own.
Hongjoong who lives and breathes the arts in a way that makes the world a more beautiful place.
Mingi who smiles and hugs first and asks questions later.
Wooyoung and San who drop everything to help anyone from a human in need of a shoulder to lean on to the smallest animal that has no home.
With that last thought, he is out of his seat and making his way to the door before he can second guess himself. He can hear Wooyoung and San’s scared voices as he slams the door behind him and makes his way down the steps of the apartment building. His chest feels as if it's collapsing under the weight of his obligations and purpose in life. The off white, peeling paint along the walls blur around him as he stumbles towards the exit at the end of the hall. Before he can make it outside, he nearly vaults himself directly into something soft but sturdy.
He takes a heaving breath and looks up and up and up.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry… I didn’t see y--” The man starts but stops abruptly. His eyes go wide as he gasps while looking down at Yeosang.
Wooyoung and San had chased after Yeosang and were now just behind him as he looked up at the looming presence in front of him.
“Y-You’re...I haven’t…We thought--” The man stutters as he looks down at Yeosang with wide, sad eyes.
“Yunho? What’s going on?” San asks softly as he moves to place his hand between Yeosang’s shoulder blades.
Yeosang is standing frozen staring up at the new man with equally stunned eyes. He shakes himself and furrows his brows, “THIS is your other roommate?”
San and Wooyoung make their way around him to nod in unison. San keeps his hand on Yeosang’s back as Wooyoung asks, “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
“Nothing is wrong at all. It’s just…” Yeosang swallows and smiles brightly while looking back at Yunho, “You’re just like me. You’re an angel.”
Yunho’s hand flies up to rub at his neck nervously as he chuckles and says, “Uh, well… I never really told anyone about that. So… surprise!”
San and Wooyoung watch the pair with wide eyes as they continue speaking. The crushing weight on Yeosang lightens slightly as he stares up at Yunho with confusion. “How long have you been here? Have you seen battle lately? I-I don’t even know what to say…”
Yunho’s hands flutter up to land on his shoulders and pull him into a warm hug. “It’s okay. I’ll explain everything. Can we head upstairs? I’ve been on my feet all day and I’m starving.”
Yeosang nods and falls behind the trio as they make their way back up to the apartment. As they reenter the crowded dining room, it’s uncomfortably silent. No one looks at the group as they get back in their seats. Yunho smiles brightly and sits beside Yeosang. He fills his plate with an assortment of food and takes a big bite before saying, “So you’re probably wondering why I gathered you here today.”
The whole group breaks into laughter, and Yeosang just watches as the tense mood in the room dissipates entirely. He wishes that he could laugh along, but his mind feels frayed at the edges. To distract himself, he looks down at the plate in front of him and grabs a huge chunk of fried chicken. As his teeth tear into the morsel, his whole body seems to freeze.
“Yeosang? Everything okay?” San asks hesitantly.
He knows that it’s ridiculous to truly be pushed over the edge by something as simple as a home cooked meal, but that one bite of San and Wooyoung’s decadent food sent something akin to lightning coursing through his veins. An unbridled joy so immense that it made him want to stand up and shout out his true thoughts and feelings at the ceiling. His eyes were lined with something close to teardrops when he responded nervously.
“Mhm… yeah, this just… um… when I first came here. It wasn’t so g-good. People weren’t so...” He paused and looked down at his wrists. Though he had been awakened from his stasis, his wrists and ankles still seemed to burn with the bondage of yesteryear. “...Agreeable.”
Yunho pauses with a spoon at his lips to nod. He takes a bite and speaks up finally, “So I assume Yeosang told all of you that he is an angel, right?”
He looks out across the table to a lot of confused and nervous nods and hums of agreement.
“I know it seems hard to believe, but he’s not lying.”
Mingi looks more confused than anyone when he responds, “How on Earth would you know that?”
Yunho takes another bite and puts down his spoon with a sigh. “Because I’m just like him. I’m an angel too.” He pauses as the group starts to murmur and argue. “Before you say anything… just let me explain.”
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The entire group including Yeosang watch, attention rapt, as he explains a tale that starts almost at the beginning.
“Human beings haven’t always been inclined towards selflessness and altruism. There was a stretch, very early on, when humans didn’t seem to have a moral compass due to not truly having any guidebook on how to survive without hurting others. It still happens from time to time in developing societies. The thing is… the meek may inherit the Earth, but that’s only because the bullheaded and demanding will lead it to the cusp of its demise. At one point, He sent a band of His highest order of angels to Earth to educate and eradicate the most vile of the species. It went almost entirely according to plan, but some humans were beyond saving and irredeemably repugnant. They had somehow discovered a way to control and abuse the divine beings known as angelic Princes. I can’t speak to our Yeosang’s condition, but the fact that he still appears to be standing is a testament in and of itself.” Yunho takes a breath and clears his throat. His hand passes across his face and when he looks up at Yeosang, his eyes are shiny with tears. “Angels cannot die, but we can suffer. Greatly. There is a form of magic held by a select few that can tranquilize us to the point that we cannot move at all but we can feel everything and think clearly. I know many that endured years of the worst treatment you can imagine. Wings dismantled and torn from their body bit by bit. Skin tattered. Bodies bent and broken under tools of stone and iron. It was not...Um…”
The room is quiet save for the sound of Hongjoong attempting to calm a quietly crying Seonghwa in his arms. Yeosang feels downright disgusted as he speaks up, “You don’t have to explain further. It’s okay, Yunho.”
Yunho swallows thickly and states, “I have to finish. You have to know.”
Yeosang nods as Yunho explains, “It’s really easy to focus on the negative especially when you hear a story like this. Or when you watch the news and all you see is war and famine and pestilence. No one ever writes grand tales about the 99% of your life that you spend sitting idly or smiling calmly or laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt. Understandably, we need to know the bad to stay safe or to assist people that need help. But back when the small band of bad humans did this to the angels, there was a huge band of humans that fought back to protect us. They fought tirelessly and freed almost all of them...all of u-us. In doing this, He saw that mankind has some merit worth exploring. There’s been a lot of stories writtens. Books read. Theories put out into the public consciousness. Just know that--humans were given another chance, and that’s where we are today. Still struggling with plenty of atrocities but also recovered in more ways than you could imagine.”
Yeosang is stunned. He sits staring at the angel beside him with his head tilted and asks, “And the mission? Are we still expected to…”
Yunho shakes his head bashfully while looking around the room at his friends. “Ah--that. No. Not at all. Actually--for a lot of us--we were given the choice to either return from whence we came or to stay and work to foster change. And after I met--” He coughs nervously, cheeks flushed as strawberry wine, and looks across the table at Mingi whose cheeks appear just as bright. “Ah... I found this group and I couldn’t bear to leave. They take your wings, and your body ages like any other mortal. We’ve still got plenty of perks, but you’d be just like any of the guys here. Free to choose what you want to do next.”
Yeosang swears that his heart sings as Yunho finishes his explanation. His eyes shoot across the table to the men that discovered him in the cave not even a day ago.
“Why them? Why this group, Yunho?” He asks slowly. His heart feels full as he continues staring at two pairs of shining, brown eyes across the room. “Is it… is he--”
Yunho smiles conspiratorially as Yeosang finally tears his eyes away from the pair. His voice is low enough that only Yeosang can catch it as he says, “Yes...I do believe he is. But that’s not up to us to discuss. I guess we’ll all see someday.”
“His blood w--”
“Yes… I know, Yeosang. It’s how I ended up here too, I think. I was drawn to him, because he’s like us but in a different way. Something I’ve never seen before.”
Yeosang glances over at San for a moment then catches Wooyoung’s eyes on him. The other man is looking directly at him with eyes full of empathy. The unwarranted care tingles along every inch of his skin. The angel’s eyes crinkle as he smiles in the other man’s direction.
He looks back at Yunho’s caring smile and he nods.
Yunho smiles back and puts a hand on his shoulder and says, “Just close your eyes and focus. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Yeosang closes his eyes but not before taking a long glance at the men around the table. He nods again to steel himself then focuses as hard as he can.
And he disappears from the room without a sound leaving only a smattering of gold tipped feathers in his wake.
***
“What did you say the name of this band is?” Yeosang yells as he watches a young woman in boxing gloves and a leopard print robe jump around the stage singing excitedly to a noisy mix of hard bass and guitar.
Hongjoong smiles over at him with small lines forming in the corners of his lips and eyelids. His skin is a healthy tan from spending half the summer outside organizing the very music festival they’re at right now.
He yells back just as loud to be heard over the pounding drums of the song. “They’re called Sleigh Bells! Isn’t it amazing? I haven’t heard so much bass from a group like this in my whole life!”
Yeosang laughs and watches as the girl shimmies around with a wide smile on her face. He looks at Hongjoong’s side to find Seonghwa, equipped with soft earplugs and a new head of pink hair (that matches Yeosang’s own hair), smiling along as if he can hear what either of them are saying. He seems to just be happy watching Hongjoong be happy. On his right, he watches as Wooyoung and San sway along to the beat. Their hands are tangled together and their mouths move along with the lyrics as the girl on stage shouts them.
Yeosang should feel tired. He had spent the entire day prior suffering through a 5k with Yunho and Mingi at Jongho’s behest. He was still confused as to how someone can invite you to do such an unbelievably tortuous activity only to abandon you in less than half a “k”.
His mind is brought back to the present as Wooyoung leans closer to him and tangles Yeosang’s hand with his own. He nearly shies away when he receives a quick peck to his cheek that leads to a nuzzle against his neck. His skin warms as he receives the gentle care.
Wooyoung’s lips nearly latch to his ear as he whispers, “I’m so glad that we found you. Before you, it was like there was something missing.”
Yeosang’s head turns to find two shining pairs of eyes looking at him with nothing but warmth and affection.
His mind whirls with centuries of darkness and silence. Of the years prior to that comprised of endless pain and suffering and sleeplessness. When Wooyoung and San catapulted into his abandoned resting place all those years ago, he had abandoned almost all hope that he would see another sunrise, eat another meal, feel the warm spread of a smile on his face. He thinks of the sun always rising then falling but never touching the deepest part of the cave where he resided throughout the ages. He looks just past the pair to the shining sun as it melts into the hazy horizon turning the fairgrounds into a magenta and gold tinged wonderland.
His throat feels thick as he looks back at Wooyoung and San and confidently replies, “I agree completely. Before you, there was nothing.”