Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

0.

Seok-chan was born with a birthmark on his face. It wasn’t big but not unnoticeable either. It was about the size of thumb and a dark shade of brown, running just over his left brow. He had never thought much about it until someone proceeded to pay an unhealthy amount of attention to it

1.

Seok-chan had recently joined the UDT, and the squad was just wrapping up a long exhausting day of drills. The air was thick with heat and sweat, and Seok-chan was drenched. Seok-chan sat alone on a bench poured water down his face to cool down. He suddenly felt a cool hand gently wipe across his forehead.

Startled, Seok-chan looked up and found himself face-to-face with Sergeant Kim Yeong-hu. His breath caught in his throat as Yeong-hu examined him with casual curiosity. The sergeant’s hand remained resting on his forehead.

“Huh… so it really is a birthmark then,” Yeong-hu muttered to himself, running his fingers over the dark mark on his face. Seok-chan blinked, his heart racing, forcing the blush creeping up his neck back down.

“What are you doing, sir?” Seok-chan asked, desperately trying to maintain his composure. He was sure that his strained voice still gave him away.

Yeong-hu raised an eyebrow, acting like he didn’t hear the younger man speaking. “Damn it. Seo-jin was right,” he muttered again to himself, sounding annoyed. Seok-chan knew enough about the squad’s banter to figure out what happened. Sergeants Kim and Min had an ongoing competition between them, trying to see who could win the most bets. This time, it was on something as trivial as Seok-chan’s birthmark.

Seok-chan scowled, more annoyed that he should be, ignoring the pleasant warmth of Yeong-hu’s fingers on his skin. “Is that what this is about?” he leaned back slightly to escape from the touch.

Yeong-hu catching the hint, dropped his hand. His expression was unreadable. “As you were Private Kang,” he said casually before walking away, still muttering about the stupid bet.

Seok-chan touched his forehead absently, still feeling the warmth of the man’s fingers lingering. He cursed under his breath. He tried to calm to his still racing heart. ‘Stupid sergeant and his stupid handsome face’ he thought. He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling. This was ridiculous. He needed to stop acting like a teenager that was noticed by his crush.

He forced himself to stop thinking about it. It was a one-off encounter. He was sure the sergeant would forget about it soon enough.

Oh how wrong he was. Not only did it happen again. It happened so often that it became a thing.

2.

It was supposed to be a straight-forward operation – neutralise a criminal ring holding black market auctions aboard a cruise ship without alarming the rich, powerful guests who funded the military.

But plans never work out perfectly and things took a turn for the worst as the universe decided to spite them. Seok-chan found himself diving into the freezing ocean to save a man that had been thrown overboard. He had no choice. The man would have drowned without him – he was also one of the high-profile guests on the ship, not saving him would have led to serious repercussions for the squad. Seok-chan managed to save the man, but not without any consequences.

The cold water he plunged into left him shaking uncontrollably, his clothes drenched and muscles barely functioning.

Seok-chan knew he was in trouble. He sat, wet and exhausted, in Yeong-hu’s office. He also knew he looked as miserable as he felt. The warmth of the heater barely cut through the chill settling in his bones. Yeong-hu stood across from him, arms crossed and his expression stern.

“You were reckless, Private,” Yeong-hu said, his voice clipped. The use of “Private” stung. Seok-chan knew that when Yeong-hu addressed him by rank, he was truly upset. “You could have died out there. You think throwing yourself into the water was the right call?”

Seok-chan swallowed and straightened his back. “It was the right thing to do, sir.” His brows furrowed as he stared back stubbornly.

Yeong-hu dragged a hand down his face and let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. His eyes softened. “Seok-chan-ah, I can’t lose you.”

The change in tone took Seok-chan by surprise. Before he could react, Yeong-hu was beside him, wrapping arms around him and pulling him close. “You don’t know how terrified I was when you disappeared in the water.”

Seok-chan’s heart thudded in his chest, his breath hitching. “I’m sorry” he whispered, voice think with guilt. “But I had to do something.”

Yeong-hu’s arms tightened around him, and he then gently poked Seok-chan’s birthmark, squishing the spot with his finger. “Even I can’t stop you when you set your mind to something, huh?” Yeong-hu knew all too well just how stubborn the younger man could be.

Seok-chan gave a weak smile, pretending to be annoyed as lighlty swatted at Yeong-hu’s hand. “You’re always touching my birthmark.”

Yeong-hu chuckled softly. “Can’t help it. It’s irresistible.” He couldn’t lie, the cute little mark on his beloved’s face was so captivating.

Before Seok-chan could respond, Yeong-hu leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Seok-chan’s lips. He then grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Seok-chan’s shoulders. “You’re still freezing. You need to get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

A glint appeared in Seok-chan’s eyes as he leaned back in, closer to Yeong-hu’s face. “Are you going to help me, Sarge?” His lips were a breath away from Yeong-hu’s.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. They pulled apart just in time as an officer walked in, oblivious to what had just transpired, asking Yeong-hu to give his report on the mission. Seok-chan took that as his cue to leave.

3.

So the world ended.

People were turning into monsters left, right and centre. It was a disaster.

After the tense and explosive exchange between Yeong-hu and Master Sergeant Tak at the blockade, they had returned back to base exhausted along with their injured men. Now, Yeong-hu couldn’t stop pacing, ranting about how the In-Hwan couldn’t be trusted, how he showed more care towards monsters than his men.

Seok-chan sat in their shared tent, barely able to keep his eyes open. Normally, he would attentively listen to every single word the man uttered, but right now, he was too tired to listen the same complaints over and over again.

A sharp poke to his forehead jolted him back to reality. “Seok-chan-ah, you’re not even listening to me,” Yeong-hu, honest to god, whined.

Seok-chan rubbed his forehead and let out a deep, tired sigh. “Yeong-huya, dear, I love you, but I can’t listen to you complain about Master Sergeant Tak any more.”

Yeong-hu pouted. “You’re supposed to be on my side”

Seok-chan was so tired. The rest of the platoon may see Yeong-hu as the stern and capable sergeant, but Seok-chan saw him for what he really was – a big whiny baby. Despite this, he couldn’t help but smile. He leaned forward and kissed Yeong-hu on the lips, unable to resist the man’s ridiculous pout.

“I am on your side. I’m just tired of hearing it.” Seok-chan said.

Yeong-hu brightened immediately, his complaints forgotten. He cupped Seok-chan’s face in his hands, his thumb swiping across the dark mark above his left brow. “Hmm are you really? I think you need to convince me harder,” he teased, his eyes darkening with desire as they flickered down to Seok-chan’s lips.

Seok-chan rolled his eyes and gently slapped the offending hand away. “You’re impossible.”

He couldn’t resist for long though, Seok-chan is a weak man when it came to Yeong-hu. For the next hour, they lost themselves in each other, pretending the world wasn’t burning around them.

4.

He had seen so many strange and grotesque things that nothing really fazed him any more. But even Seok-chan could admit that this was new.

Crow Platoon had been on another supply raid outside the stadium when they encountered a tree monster that blended in with the other trees in the area. Everything was fine until the group startled the creature, causing it to release strange spores into the air that left the men acting as if they were high on drugs.

Luckily, only a few of their men were affected. Unluckily, Yeong-hu was one of them. Of course, this became Seok-chan’s problem.

Now, Seok-chan found himself stuck with an unusually clingy Yeong-hu, who had latched onto him like a leech and refused to let go. Yeong-hu sat on Seok-chan’s lap, gazing at him with a starstruck expression, fingers gently caressing Seok-chan’s birthmark over and over.

Dong-jun, ever the instigator of chaos, laughed loudly. “He probably thinks you’re a dog Seok-chan-ah. Look at how much he’s been petting you.”

Seok-chan shot him an annoyed look but said nothing. He grabbed Yeong-hu’s hand, trying to pry it off his face. “Yeong-huya, stop it.”

Yeong-hu blinked at him innocently before putting Seok-chan’s hand on his face instead. The other men who were watching them and using the ridiculous scene as a source of entertainment, burst into laughter, shaking their heads in amusement.

“Looks like you’re still stuck with him,” Seo-jin teased, clearly enjoying the situation. He would have so much blackmail material from this after all.

Seok-chan sighed but couldn’t help but smile. He pretended to be annoyed, but his was full. Their relationship was the platoon’s worst-kept secret, and with Yeong-hu ranting about how pretty Seok-chan’s eyes were and how his lips were so soft, the secret was well and truly out. But no one said anything. No one cared. They were accepted, even in the madness of the end of the world.

Crow Platoon was just glad they no longer had to pretend to be clueless. Seok-chan and Sergeant Kim weren’t exactly subtle. They were often found tangled up against each other on any flat surface they can find. There were only so many times they can pretend to be blind and deaf to what was happening in front of them after all. Now there was only one other thing that they tried to ignore. They pretended not to hear Jin-ho (also affected by the spores) giggling loudly in Master Sergeant Tak’s room. Nope, nothing happening there for sure. They really didn’t want to know.

Yeong-hu’s reputation never really did recover after that incident. No one could look at the man and not remember how he stretched Seok-chan cheeks while crying about how cute the younger man was. Seok-cahn vindictively thought that the man deserved it after the abuse that his face went through.

5.

They were navigating through the monster infested streets, heading back to base after, yet another, supply run. Seok-chan was focused on manoeuvring the truck around the oddly docile monsters. His grip was tight on the steering wheel, eyes sharp and alert. He had a feeling that hitting one of these monsters could turn this quiet drive into a disaster.

Beside him, Yeong-hu sat in the passenger seat, still recovering from the after-effects of the tree monster incident. Dr. Lim had warned them that Yeong-hu’s impulse control was still shaky, the last of the toxins slowly flushing from his system. But, true to form, Yeong-hu had insisted on coming along, determined to prove that he was back to full strength and ready to be taken seriously again by the team.

Seok-chan’s jaw clenched in concentration as he weaved the truck around the monsters, the eerie quiet of the landscape broken only by the occasional groans from the sleeping monsters. Out of nowhere, Seok-chan felt a sudden jab on his forehead, right above his left brow—his birthmark.

Startled, Seok-chan’s heart lurched into his throat as the truck swerved dangerously close to a massive, sleeping creature. His hands flew to the wheel, yanking it back with a sharp motion to avoid a crash. “What the hell, Yeong-huya!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. The adrenaline shot through him as they narrowly avoided disaster.

Yeong-hu, completely unfazed, grinned like a cat who got the cream. “Sorry, dear. I couldn’t help myself.” He was unapologetic, his hand resting casually on Seok-chan’s shoulder. “Your focused face was just too cute. Intrusive thoughts, you know?”

Seok-chan scowled at him, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “Did you lose your brain?” he shot back, half scolding, half exasperated. He knew Yeong-hu hadn’t fully recovered yet, and this little stunt was proof of that. The tree monster’s toxins were still messing with his impulse control, and Seok-chan had a strong suspicion that the older man’s insistence on joining this supply run wasn’t his best idea.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Seok-chan continued, his tone sharp. “Dr. Lim said you’re not fully back to normal yet.”

Yeong-hu shrugged, unbothered by the reprimand. “I feel fine, and the boys need to know I’m back,” he said, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Seok-chan rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what Yeong-hu was trying to do. After witnessing Yeong-hu’s toxin-fueled ramblings — especially his tendency to wax poetic about Seok-chan’s eyes — he had become the subject of constant teasing. Dong-jun, in particular, never missed an opportunity to poke fun at him, and the boys had been relentless.

In retaliation, Yeong-hu had tightened his grip on the squad, ushering in what Park Chan-young dramatically referred to as “the new age of terror.” Poor Chan-young, who hadn’t even been involved in the teasing, had been dragged into extra drills after one of Dong-jun’s smart remarks. Yeong-hu, in a particularly bad mood that day, made every single man run gruelling drills under the guise of “necessary training.” Chan-young had suffered along with the rest, and he was still traumatised.

Seok-chan sighed, his annoyance simmering as he refocused on the road. “You can’t just—ugh. You really need to stop doing that.” He grumbled half-heartedly.

Seo-jin, who had been sitting in the backseat this whole time, couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You two are a riot,” he teased, watching the exchange with barely disguised amusement. “You think Yeong-hu’s fit for duty, Seok-chan-ah?”

Seok-chan shot him a withering glare in the rearview mirror but didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to lecture Yeong-hu, the older man taking the scolding without protest, a small, contented smile playing on his lips the whole time.

As they neared the stadium, Seok-chan let out an exasperated sigh. “If you keep this up, you’re going to get us both killed.”

But Yeong-hu, still smiling and unserious, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t mind.” He said it casually, the words slipping out as easily as he breathed.

Seok-chan’s heart skipped a beat, the irritation in his chest replaced by something softer. He glanced over at Yeong-hu, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. He didn’t respond, but the warmth blooming in his chest was undeniable.

And despite the chaos, despite the ridiculousness of the situation, Seok-chan felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. As much as Yeong-hu drove him crazy lately, there was something comforting about him being here, by his side, even in the most dangerous moments.

As they pulled into the stadium gates, Seok-chan stole one last glance at the man beside him, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

+1.

Idle weeks passed and then one day Yong-seok went missing. Just like that, the warm camaraderie that had once surrounded Crow Platoon evaporated, shattering all too easily under the weight of uncertainty and fear. They argued constantly, the tension simmering dangerously beneath the surface. Accusations of Yong-seok being a deserter were thrown and particularly weren’t well received.

They were family though, and when they received the SOS signal from Yong-seok, they did not hesitate to send a rescue team to Bamseom.

And then everything went to hell.

Yeong-hu stirred, his eyelids heavy as he slowly woke up. His body ached and his mind was foggy. For a moment, he thought he was dead. But pain stabbed through him as he moved, and the sight of Seok-chan unconscious beside him was far too real.

A strange tube, dripping blood, ran from Seok-chan’s neck to Yeong-hu’s arm.

Panic surged through Yeong-hu, overpowering the pain. With trembling hands, Yeong-hu reached for Seok-chan’s face, his thumb gently tracing the familiar birthmark on his brow. Seok-chan was cold – too cold.

“Seok-chan-ah… love… wake up.” Yeong-hu’s voice cracked, his words barely a whisper. He pressed his forehead against Seok-chan’s, desperation coursing through him. “Love.. please, wake up.”

He choked back the sobs that threatened to break free. His vision blurred. “Please… don’t leave me like this.”

Yeong-hu cradled Seok-chan against him as his trembling fingers continued to trace Seok-chan’s birthmark, waiting for him to scrunch his face in mock annoyance, to slap his hand away, to complain about Yeong-hu’s obsession with his birthmark – but nothing happened. Seok-chan was gone.

No matter how many times Yeong-hu repeated his pleas, no matter how desperately he begged, Seok-chan was still gone.

Yeong-hu’s heart shattered into a million pieces.

He pressed his lips to Seok-chan’s cold forehead, tears falling freely now. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice barely audible through the sobs that wracked his body. “I’m so sorry.”

Seok-chan was right back then, Yeong-hu would lead them to their deaths.

Yeong-hu wished he had never woken up.

Chapter Text

Idle weeks passed, and then one day, Yong-seok went missing. Just like that, the warm camaraderie that had once surrounded Crow Platoon evaporated, shattering all too easily under the weight of uncertainty and fear. They argued constantly, the tension simmering dangerously beneath the surface. Accusations of Yong-seok being a deserter were thrown and particularly weren’t well received.

They were family though, and when they received the SOS signal from Yong-seok, they did not hesitate to send a rescue team to Bamseom.

Then, everything fell into motion.

As they arrived at the facility, they knew that they were being watched. Eyes were lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment to strike.

They found Yong-seok – injured and ashamed. Some freak, Dr. Lim called him MH1, tried to play with their lives, toying with them like pawns. Just when all hope seemed lost, a different special infectee – one with a large, dark wing extending from an arm – crashed down like a fallen angel, scattering debris and sent the other special infectees into a panic.

It was during this moment of chaos that they made their escape.

Yeong-hu and Seo-jin, the least injured, took charge of helping the others back to the truck. With steady determination, they hauled U-seok, Jong-hyun, Yong-seok and Seok-chan – each bearing their own battle scars – into the vehicle. Loud noises erupted from the facility, the sounds of battle echoing, but their drive back to the stadium was silent. They did not look back. If they left Dr. Lim with a group of special infectees that weren’t particularly happy to see him, well, that wasn’t their problem. The man made his choice to stay.

Every jolt of the truck was a reminder of what they went through, what they endured, but it didn’t matter. They were alive.

Back at the stadium, the rest of Crow Platoon awaited their return. As they rolled in, the collective sigh of relief was palpable. Without the eccentric scientist to man their clinic, the men had to make do with the limited medical knowledge they had to patch-up their brothers.

Of the group, Seok-chan and U-seok had fared the worst. U-seok’s arm and leg had been mauled, leaving him unable to walk on his own, though he would recover in time. Seok-chan, meanwhile, bore a deep nasty scratch down his throat. Miraculously, the wound had avoided anything vital, but the injury temporarily left him voiceless. Talking had left him in pain, and put an unnecessary strain on the wound.

Days passed and the tension that once gripped the platoon began to ease.

Seok-chan, however, was far from pleased. Being unable to speak meant he couldn’t scold Yeong-hu whenever the man did something stupid – which, unfortunately happened often. And without the excuse of the tree monster’s toxins coursing through him this time, Yeong-hu’s antics were all the more exasperating. Seok-chan found himself unable to voice his irritation, leaving him with little choice but to put up with it.

On the other hand, Yeong-hu was having the time of his life playing the (overbearing) nursemaid to his beloved.

“Wake up, love,” Yeong-hu whispered softly, gently shaking the younger man’s shoulders. Seok-chan groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes as if to block the world and turned away from him. His expression screamed exhaustion.

“Seok-chan-ah, I need to check your bandages, then you can go back to sleep,” Yeong-hu coaxed the grumpy man, voice still soft but insistent. Never mind the fact that it was well past the time Seok-chan should’ve woken up – he had already missed roll called entirely, but given the circumstances, no one was going to call him out for it.

Seok-chan cracked an eye open, glaring at him, bleary-eyed and clearly displeased.

“I promise I’ll be quick,” Yeong-hu continued, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I just want to make sure there’s no infection.” He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against forehead, just above the dark birthmark.

Seok-chan’s annoyance lessened slightly, though he still looked grumpy. Begrudgingly, he sat up, allowing Yeong-hu access to the bandages on his neck.

Yeong-hu worked efficiently, his hands gentle but practised as he carefully removed the old bandages and replaced them with fresh ones. Seok-chan winced every now and then but remained still, his eyes half-closed as fatigue made it hard to stay awake.

After Yeong-hu tied off the last of the bandages, he helped Seok-chan lay back down, tucking the blankets around his with surprising gentleness. Just as Seok-chan thought he might finally get some peace, Yeong-hu leaned down with a wicked smirk, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“You know,” Yeong-hu said, his lips brushing against Seok-chan’s ear, “with all this practice, I’ve gotten pretty good at handling you. Maybe next time, I’ll find a different way to tie you up.”

Seok-chan’s eyes flew open, his face flushing instantly as he glared at the older man. Without hesitation, he grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at Yeong-hu, smacking him square in the face.

Yeong-hu laughed, dodging just in time to avoid getting hit again. “What? I think you’d look so pretty all tied up for me.” He teased, voice dripping with mischief, clearly enjoying Seok-chan’s flustered reaction.

Seok-chan rolled his eyes and raised another pillow threateningly. Yeong-hu raised his hands in surrender, but not before catching the small twitch at the corner of Seok-chan’s lips – a hint of the smile he tried to hide. There was softness in Seok-chan’s gaze even as he silently berated the older man.

After being thoroughly scolded through half-hearted slaps, Yeong-hu eventually settled down. He picked up the fallen pillows and tucked them back under Seok-chan’s head. He reached for younger man’s hand and entwined their fingers together. It wasn’t too long before Seok-chan was lulled back into sleep. The air in the room felt still, peaceful, as the noise of the outside world faded away.

Yeong-hu listened to Seok-chan’s steady breathing, felt the thrum of his heartbeat beneath his fingertips. With every breath Seok-chan took, Yeong-hu felt a weight lift from his chest – a reminder that despite everything, Seok-chan was alive – alive and here, with him.

His eyes fell to the familiar birthmark on Seok-chan’s brow. He reached out, gently brushing his thumb across the mark, tracing the familiar shape tenderly. Yeong-hu had done this motion so many times before, but this time it felt different. It felt like a prayer. A silent offering of gratitude for the fact that Seok-chan is still here with him.

Seok-chan’s face scrunched up at the touch, but he didn’t wake. Even in his sleep, his body instinctively reacted to Yeong-hu’s obsession with the mark, as if complaining on his behalf.

Yeong-hu smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Seok-chan’s temple.

His brothers were alive. The love of his life was life.

In this broken, shattered world, Yeong-hu had everything he wanted.

Yeong-hu’s heart was so full, he thought it might burst.

As held Seok-chan’s hand, the warmth offering him comfort, he whispered quietly to himself, “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure who it was thanking – god, fate, the deities, or Seok-chan himself for remaining by his side – but he was thankful all the same.

In this moment, Yeong-hu didn’t need anything more.