Archive of Our Own

They were not friends.
They were enemies, in the way only two people born on opposite sides of a war can be.

Geum Seongje was Union’s best fighter. He was wild, reckless and unhinged in the way that made even the Union kids flinch, yet somehow still dependable enough that Baekjin kept him close.

He was supposed to terrorize and intimidate, and he did it very well. Too well sometimes. Especially when it came to Eunjang. Because if their leader, Baku, didn’t want to join Union, then Union made damn sure that his schoolmates felt the consequences of refusing, and that includes Seongje terrorising them.

On the other side of that battlefield stood Yeon Sieun, the Eunjang’s brainiac, top student and rumored to be more dangerous with a pen than most delinquents were with a knife.

He defended himself, and his friends sometimes, with his plans and his terrifying ability to use items around him as a weapon. So when Union kids pushed too far, Sieun didn’t hesitate to act.

And that meant facing off against Union’s mad dog, Geum Seongje. So maybe it was inevitable that one day, the two of them finally met in a fight.

Sieun was on his way to cram school, bag over his shoulder with his notes tucked neatly inside, already rehearsing formulas in his head. He only answered Juntae’s call because Juntae wasn’t someone who called without a reason.

“Sieun, are you— are you okay?” Juntae’s voice came through, strained and breathless.

Sieun frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? What’s going o—”

Before Juntae could answer, there was a sudden shout. Juntae let out a panicked yelp and then the line cut abruptly.

The blood drained from Sieun’s face, knowing something was wrong. He didn’t even bother going to the cram school, he ran to find his friends.

He sprinted through back alleys and side roads, heart pounding, searching for anyone who might know where Juntae had gone. He found a group of students leaning against a vending machine, whispering animatedly.

“Hyuntak got jumped while walking with Juntae, under the bridge where Eunjang kids always use to go back home.”
“By who?”
“Geum Seongje, obviously. Who else?”
“He dragged him to the rooftop, other kids that saw it said he was pissed—”

That was all the information Sieun needed to find them.

He continue to run with a speed that startled even himself, feet slamming against the pavement as his lungs burning. He took the stairwell three steps at a time, shoving open the rooftop door with enough force that it ricocheted against the wall.

And there, right in the middle of the rooftop, stood Geum Seongje.

He had Hyuntak by the collar, knuckles bruised with an expression twisted in the kind of reckless anger. Juntae stood frozen on the side, wide-eyed and trembling as he was held by one of Seongje's lackeys.

Seongje paused mid-swing when he noticed Sieun, and something unsettling flickered across his face. A gleam. A kind of twisted excitement.

He shoved Hyuntak to the ground as though he were discarding a toy, just to focus entirely on Sieun. Juntae gasped, catching Hyuntak before he could fully collapse.

Sieun didn’t waste a second on words. He simply pulled the pen tucked inside his school blazer and charged with a level of cold determination that would have made any rational person step back.

Seongje wasn’t expecting that, not from the petite top student who usually solved problems with words and strategy. Shock flickered across his face for only a heartbeat before it melted into irritation, and then into amusement.

His infamous chuckle broke out, low and delighted, like he’d just been handed the best gift of the week.

“Whoa, you gonna stab me with this?” he taunted, grabbing Sieun’s wrist with one swift movement, easily stopping the pen from stabbing him. “You’re a fucking wi—”

He never got to finish the insult.

Because the second Seongje’s fingers closed fully around Sieun’s wrist, a violent pulse of heat exploded beneath their skin. A blinding light burst across their skin like a bracelet, bright enough to cast long shadows across the area. The rooftop which moments earlier filled with the sound of fists and ragged breathing, fell silent as the glow intensified.

Seongje froze as his eyes widened, disbelief flickering through them before he covered it with a scoff that sounded far too brittle to be convincing. Sieun, meanwhile, reacted like he had been struck by lightning. His breath hitched, panic carved into every line of his face.

His lungs stuttered, eyes going wide as the glow intensified. He tried to yank his arm away, body jolting like he’d been electrocuted, but Seongje’s grip held him in place.

Seongje stared at the mark with astonishment melting into something eerily close to wonder. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed. Not the mocking laugh he used to intimidate nor the cruel one meant to humiliate.

This one was startled, almost breathless. Childlike. Like he was seeing something impossible yet beautiful for the first time.

“…Oh.”

The laugh only made Sieun’s panic spike. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, his mind screaming in denial as he stared at the glowing lines running around his wrist.

“Oh no,” Sieun whispered, voice tight with dread. “Fucking hell—”

For a long moment, the two of them stood there, suspended in the surreal glow of destiny neither believed in. Seongje’s grip had loosened, but the connection and the weight of the mark, lingered heavily in the air between them.

Hyuntak and Juntae stared with wide, uncomprehending eyes, while Seongje’s lackeys froze in place, the color draining from their faces.

Soulmate marks were rare, so rare that people treated them like myth; so precious that even the hopeless romantics secretly yearned for them.

But nothing about the situation unfolding in front of them felt like a miracle, because out of all the possible pairings, all the cosmic combinations fate could have chosen, the universe had decided to bind Yeon Sieun and Geum Seongje who had no business being anywhere near each other, let alone written into each other’s lives.

And yet, the glow on their wrists proved the truth none of them wanted to accept, that they were bounded by fate in the cruelest way imaginable.

⸻

For the entire week after the rooftop incident, both of them had pretended the marks didn’t exist.

Sieun went out of his way to keep his wrists hidden under long sleeves, tugging at cuffs and shifting his backpack straps to cover the glow that had no right to be there.

Seongje, on the other hand, acted like it was nothing at all with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, leaning lazily against walls, half-smirking as if daring anyone to notice the strange, almost imperceptible connection between him and Sieun.

And yet, the universe had its own sense of humor, one that was petty and completely unyielding. Soulmate bonds didn’t care about pride or stubbornness. Once the bond was known by the pair, it strengthened and, apparently, punishing.

The first time it happened was when Sieun was on his way to meet Seongje, determined to confront him, or maybe just vent about everything that he had kept to himself regarding the bond, but he still didn’t quite know what he was going to say.

The familiar neon glow of the PC bang where Seongje spent most of his free time came into view, windows flickering with the bright colors of the game screens inside.

“Geum Seongje!” Sieun called out, voice a mixture of frustration and exasperation.

Seongje didn’t even glance at him. He hummed absentmindedly, eyes glued to the game as his fingers danced across the keyboard with unnerving precision. Sieun’s annoyance spiked instantly.

“We need to talk!” he practically half shouting this time, stomping closer.

“Give me a minute,” he mumbled over his shoulder, tone lazy and infuriating. Sieun’s teeth ground together and with a frustrated groan, he reached out and grabbed Seongje’s hand to get his attention.

Almost immediately, the familiar glow ignited around their wrists. He jerked back instinctively, heart racing, but the damage had already been done. The light pulsed faintly, almost alive.

“Holy shit!” one of the Union kids behind Seongje, who had been playing his own game and saw the interaction, blurted out with his eyes widen at scene. “You guys… are soulmates?”

“What? No!” Sieun snapped, waving his hand like it could erase the accusation. He lied, almost instinctively.

And at that exact moment, Seongje doubled over slightly, fingers clutching his temples. A piercing headache sliced through him, right in the middle of a crucial point in his game. His eyes flared and his teeth gritted as irritation bubbling over like lava.

He had no patience for this. But instead of snapping at Sieun, he turned his fury on the Union kid. With one swift motion, he grabbed a fistful of the boy’s hair and slammed his head against the desk. The kid yelped and crumpled over, groaning.

“Sieun is lying,” Seongje growled through clenched teeth, voice low but deadly, using the tone that made everyone in Union know better than to speak out of turn. “So I need to make sure all of you know when to shut your mouth!”

The pain in his head didn’t subside, but it added fuel to his irritation rather than slowing him down.

Without waiting for explanation, without letting Sieun argue or protest, Seongje yanked him out of the PC bang. The sudden motion made Sieun stumble, nearly losing his balance but Seongje’s grip on his wrist kept him steady.

The world outside the neon-lit gaming room felt sharper, quieter somehow, as if the chaos of the arcade had been left behind in a bubble of muted tension.

“What is it, newbie?” Seongje finally sighed, stepping onto the street, letting go of Sieun’s wrist but keeping his posture rigid, controlled. “What is it that you urgently need me for?”

Sieun’s gaze flicked between Seongje’s eyes and the faint glow still lingering on their hands. His voice dropped, incredulous, tinged with disbelief. “How can you be so casual about… this?”

Seongje arched a brow, leaning back against the wall, fingers brushing along the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “Should we just cut off our hands to stop the bond?” he asked, sarcasm heavy in his tone.

The corner of his mouth twitched with that familiar, dangerous smirk. Sieun groaned in frustration, cheeks burning, feeling caught somewhere between irritation and helplessness.

“You’re scared of me being your soulmate, aren’t you?” Seongje continued, the teasing edge in his voice making the words land sharper than any punch.

“No,” Sieun shot back immediately, defensively, almost too quickly. The lie was instinctive, a reflex against Seongje’s smirk and his teasing tone.

Again, almost instantly, Seongje’s eyes squeezed shut as a sharp, merciless headache exploded in his temple. He groaned, swaying slightly, caught off-guard by the pain, yet not entirely confused. His mind, always quick and observant despite his delinquent background, pieced it together before Sieun could even register the effect.

Seongje’s glare pinned Sieun in place, teeth gritted, voice low and sharp. “Can you stop lying to save me from this fucking annoying headache?!” Each word carried a desperate edge, as if his pride was colliding violently with the throbbing pain behind his eyes.

“I wasn’t lying!” Sieun blurted out, wide-eyed, the words spilling awkwardly between them, sounding unconvincing even to himself.

The moment he spoke, Seongje groaned louder, staggering slightly, the pain radiating through his skull. He reached out instinctively, clutching Sieun’s shoulder to steady himself making Sieun froze, stunned by the closeness.

“And we are not fucking soulmates,” Seongje grunted, wanting Sieun to feel what he felt everytime Sieun was lying.

The surge of energy stabbed through Sieun like a jolt and he groaned, clutching his own temple as a headache sliced through him almost as sharply as it had Seongje moments before.

“What the fuck?!” Sieun groaned, stumbling back slightly, hands pressing against his throbbing temples while completely feeling overwhelmed.

Seongje’s smirk widened, faintly amused despite the lingering pain. “Good. Taste your own fucking medicine.” He released Sieun’s shoulder, letting the tension ebb just enough to regain control, though the mark’s glow still shimmered faintly between them.

“What do you mean?!” Sieun huffed, frustration and confusion lacing his voice as he rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the sudden ache.

“For a smart kid like you, you’re so slow, Yeon Sieun,” Seongje said, eyes narrowing in mock exasperation, tone sharp but tinged with amusement. “Apparently… we can’t lie to each other or about each other. So, take note.”

Sieun blinked, momentarily frozen, trying to decipher the meaning behind Seongje’s words. The glow on their wrists pulsed faintly, almost impatiently, as if urging him to understand. Seongje’s lips curled into a low chuckle, his amusement barely restrained.

“You need more evidence?” Seongje continued, voice deceptively calm, though a sly undertone laced every word. “We never hated each other before.”

Before Sieun could even muster a response, or protest the absurdity of the statement, a sudden and sharp pain exploded in his temple. His knees wobbled and a groan escaped him, high and frustrated. “Fuck, Seongje! Stop!”

But before he could stagger backward again, Seongje’s arms were around him, steadying him with ease. His hands gripped Sieun’s arms firmly, with enough pressure to keep him from falling. Sieun froze for a heartbeat agai , wide-eyed, the closeness making the glowing mark between them feel impossibly hot and real.

“Then stop lying — to me, or to anyone about us,” Seongje said, voice low and steady, carrying both the weight of authority and the hint of desperation. “So we can both get away from this misery.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if frustrated by the cruel rules of the universe itself.

Sieun, still blinking through the lingering ache of the headache, could only huff in surrender. “Fine,” he muttered, voice soft and reluctant, but honest.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he allowed himself to lean into Seongje’s grip, however awkwardly, feeling the heat of the glowing mark between them as if it were silently scolding him.

“So… what do we do now?” Sieun asked, a genuine note of frustration threading through his words. He hated this entire situation, the absurdity of being forced into some unwanted connection with someone like Seongje, someone he barely tolerated.

“Move on with life, I guess?” Seongje replied with a shrug, finally releasing his hold on Sieun. “Ignore me, date me, do whatever you want. Although… I have no idea what other rules we need to obey as fucking soulmates.” His tone was rough-edged, but there was an underlying curiosity, a wariness of testing limits.

“FUCK," Seongje suddenly exclaimed, eyes widening in mock panic, "...are you dating anyone?!”

“I’m… not,” Sieun replied carefully, and Seongje waited, expecting the familiar spike of a headache but it never came.

Seongje’s lips curved into a small, relieved smirk. “Good. Let’s stay this way until we both figure out whatever the hell this bond is. I don’t want to die early if you’re dating someone else.” His teasing tone made Sieun groan, rolling his eyes as he muttered under his breath.

“I should do that so you can die quickly,” Sieun shot back, a scoff escaping him, though there was a hint of reluctant amusement in his tone.

“We’re fucking soulmates, Sieun,” Seongje countered, smirk widening as he leaned back against the wall. “What if we have the bond of 'you die, I die'?” His teasing made Sieun groan even louder, though his glare couldn’t hide the twitch of tension in his chest.

“I’m going home. Bye,” Sieun finally said, spinning on his heel and walking away, exasperation radiating off him in waves.

Seongje chuckled softly, a low, amused sound that carried more warmth than he intended. He pulled a cigarette from his pack, lighting it as he watched Sieun’s retreating back with the corner of his mouth tugged up in quiet satisfaction.

The glow of the bond pulsed faintly beneath his sleeve, a reminder that the universe had made its rules, and that chaos, as usual, was inevitable.

⸻

After the PC bang incident, the fate seemed to grow bored of waiting for meaningful moments and began triggering over something more deeper now.

Juntae burst into the classroom so abruptly that even the rowdiest students stopped mid-laugh and mid-shout. His hair stuck up at odd angles, his uniform half-untucked and he was panting like he had sprinted the entire way.

Sieun raised a brow without lifting his chin from his book.

Juntae gripped the edge of Sieun’s desk, bending forward. “There’s— there’s a fight,” he gasped out, trying to catch his breath. “Some random uni boys picked a fight with Union near the underpass. A couple guys saw it while heading home. They said it looks bad. Like... really bad.”

The classroom hummed with sudden interest — whispers rising, chairs scraping, students peeking over each other’s shoulders for more details.

Sieun blinked once. Then twice. His expression remained an immaculate portrait of utter disinterest. Juntae stared at him in disbelief, as if expecting him to leap out of his seat or gasp dramatically. Instead, Sieun’s silence carried one message: And why exactly should I care?

Union fought all the time. Most of the time, they were the one started half those fights. And even if they didn’t, well, seeing them get beaten for once wouldn’t hurt anyone.

So Sieun closed his book, packed his things and left school like any other day, not sparing a second thought to what Juntae had said.

The sun was starting to dip, the sky tinted warm orange as he made his usual route home. He walked with his hands tucked in his pockets, mind already drifting to homework and dinner.

When Sieun saw a cluster of bodies crashed together like tangled silhouettes as fists swung, metal clanged and someone barked out a pained shout, Sieun simply clicked his tongue.

Typical.
Just Union being Union.

He told himself firmly, I don’t care if that idiot gets punched into a coma. He even turned his head away, ready to continue down his usual route.

And then he felt a sudden, sharp, slicing heat tore across his wrist.

Sieun froze mid-step, eyes widening as a cold shock washed down his spine. He quickly lowered his gaze to the inside of his wrist.

The soulmate mark which usually nothing more than an irritating reminder of an unwanted bond, was glowing beneath his skin with a pulsing, angry light. The heat flaring outward like a warning flare ignited directly under his flesh.

“—ah!”, the sound ripped out of Sieun before he could stop it.

The pain followed was explosive and searing, like someone was pressing a burning wire against the tender skin of his wrist and pushing harder and harder.

His breath staggered out of him in a broken gasp, his free hand flying to cover the mark instinctively as if that could soothe the fire ripping through it.

This wasn’t the petty warmth he felt whenever they touched and the soulmate mark buzzed like it was laughing at him. This was something that screamed danger.

The panic hit him so fast he couldn’t swallow it.

“Shit—” he choked, the word torn from him as his pulse hammered violently in his throat. A terrifying realization slammed itself into his chest.

Does this mean Seongje’s in danger?

The moment the thought formed, his feet moved on their own. He ran so hard making his lungs felt strained. But his legs pushed harder and faster, a frantic rhythm driven by sheer instinct and soul-deep panic.

He cursed the universe for tying him to someone like Seongje. He cursed the mark for choosing this exact moment to behave like a brand pressed to his skin. He cursed Seongje viciously for getting into another fight. For being reckless and stupid. For making him feel like this.

But even as he cursed him, even as anger tangled with dread in his chest, he kept running towards the idiot whose pain was literally burning his wrist.

By the time he reached the underpass, the air was thick with tension.

Union’s boys were scattered around the space — panting, sweat-soaked, knuckles scraped raw. Yoojoon leaned against a pillar, chest heaving as he wiped blood off his chin. Minjun was still exchanging blows with a tall guy in a varsity jacket, each punch sending vibrations up the concrete. Doyoon was at the far edge, kicking someone who had tried to crawl away. The whole underpass pulsed with violence, heat, and chaos.

And at the center of it all, unmistakable even in the dim lighting, stood Geum Seongje.

He had a smear of blood streaked across his cheekbone, catching the faint light. His lip was split open, bleeding down the corner of his mouth and staining the collar of his hoodie.

But Seongje he looked alive. He was thrumming with energy, confidence and that feral spark he always carried into a fight.

He stood over a groaning opponent, watching the boy struggle to push himself upright. Seongje tilted his head, his smirk cruel, like he found the boy’s persistence amusing. As the guy tried to rise, Seongje rolled his shoulders back, preparing for another blow.

And that was when Sieun’s heart plummeted straight to the ground.

“Geum Seongje!”

The raw and furious shout ripped itself out of him. It crashed against the concrete walls, echoing through the entire underpass like a whip. Every head turned. Even the fists paused in midair.

Seongje turned last.

His eyes skimmed the chaos before landing squarely on Sieun, and his expression shifted. The smirk softened. His shoulders dropped slightly. There was something like pleased in the way he looked at him.

“Ah,” he breathed, voice hoarse from yelling, "It's my soulmate.”

Sieun marched forward, jaw tight, still clutching his burning wrist. “My wrist burned because you were fighting, so for god’s sake, STOP!”

Seongje laughed. A low, breathless chuckle spilling out, even with blood on his lip. Then, without breaking eye contact with Sieun, he kicked the groaning opponent one last time to make sure the guy stayed down before he walked toward him.

He reached for Sieun’s wrist without asking, pulling it closer to inspect the glowing mark, now dimmer. He let out a long whistle. “The mark was exaggerating.” He flashed a crooked grin. “See? I’m not dying.”

Sieun’s jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists at his sides. “Yeah? Good. I’m here because it fucking hurts, not because I care about you.”

Their bond struck back like a hammer as Sieun lied.

Seongje recoiled violently, hands flying up to clutch his head as a brutal, stabbing headache tore through him. His body folded, knees buckling as he let out a strangled gasp.

“—Seongje?” Sieun froze in horror.

There was no answer. Just a harsh, ragged sound of pain before Seongje collapsed fully, hitting the pavement hard. His breath escaped him in sharp, broken bursts. The mark on his wrist flared, pulsing in sync with the agony ripping through him.

“Seongje!” Sieun’s voice cracked, unrestrained and terrified. He dropped to his knees without hesitation, hands grabbing Seongje’s shoulders to steady him. The sight of him trembling, face contorted in pain, made Sieun’s stomach twist violently.

“Okay, fuck, OKAY!” he blurted, panic ripping through every word. “I do care! I care, damn it!”

He pulled Seongje upright, supporting his weight as Seongje’s forehead nearly dropping against his shoulder. The pain finally began to ebb, but the moment Seongje blinked up at him, he didn’t look confused by the pain anymore.

He looked stunned by Sieun.

“…You care?” he whispered, voice barely audible.

And then, despite everything, the bleeding, shaking and falling to the ground seconds ago, he chuckled. That ridiculous, unmistakable, cocky little laugh.

Sieun’s face burned. “YES,” he snapped. “Now shut up and stop acting like the headache was horrible!”

Behind them, Seongje's lackeys stood frozen like statues.

Yoojoon dropped his vape with a loud clatter. Minjun’s elbow shot out in shock and hit Doyoon so hard he hissed. Doyoon mouthed holy shit, looking one bad line away from fainting.

“Did the boss just—”
“Shut up.”
“No, but he— he SMILED when he saw him—”
“I said shut the hell UP!”

But none of them looked away.

Not when Geum Seongje, the cold-blooded Union's best fighter, the boy who refused to lean on anyone, allowed himself to sag slightly against Sieun’s grip.

The bond on their wrists flickered softly and suddenly turned violent. The light flared from gentle glow to angry, sharp light again.

Sieun yelped, whole body jolting as if he’d been shocked. His hand flew to his wrist, gripping it tightly, chest heaving.

A second later, the same pain slammed into Seongje which he had assumed before was leftover injury from the fight. Now, he understood why Sieun was panicking.

He hissed, the fight adrenaline washing away in an instant, replaced by pure instinct. Danger was coming and it was coming for them.

His head snapped up just in time to see movement in his peripheral vision — a shadow lunging toward them, eyes blazing, fist pulled back with the force of someone desperate to take down the Union's mad dog.

“Fuck!”

Seongje reacted instantly.

He surged forward, shoving Sieun behind him so hard Sieun stumbled. Then he twisted, launching a brutal kick directly into the attacker’s chest. The impact echoed through the underpass. The guy crumpled backward, hitting the ground with a choked wheeze.

“Yah!” Seongje barked at his lackeys making Yoojoon and Minjun rushed in instantly, dragging the guy away from the pair with practiced ease while Doyoon intercepted another attacker nearby.

Seongje didn’t spare them another glance. His focus snapped immediately back to Sieun.

“You okay?” His voice was low not from pain, but from fear. The kind that had no place on Geum Seongje’s face, yet sat there openly, trembling through his words.

He lifted a hand, brushing trembling fingers against Sieun’s cheek. Checking for blood, injury or anything that meant he was even a second too late.

And Sieun stood frozen, clutching his wrist with a white-knuckled grip as if it were bleeding, even though it wasn’t. The glowing mark pulsed angrily through his skin again and his entire expression was twisted with pain and something dangerously close to panic.

“It... hurts,” Sieun muttered through clenched teeth, voice cracking. He pressed the heel of his palm harder against the mark, like he could physically stamp out the burn. “Why does it hurt this bad?!”

Seongje felt it too. He tore his gaze from Sieun’s face, scanning the underpass, body tensing again like a guard dog ready to kill. His wrist throbbed in unison with Sieun’s. It was burning and Seongje knew exactly what it meant.

They weren’t safe there, especially with Sieun in the middle of Union’s fight.

He exhaled sharply before he reached out, grabbing Sieun’s wrist, making sure he cover the wrist mark that's been hurting Sieun.

“Come on.”

Before Sieun could protest, Seongje tugged him forward, shielding him with his whole body as he gave a sharp hand signal to his lackeys, the gesture that meant wrap it up, we’re leaving now.

The boys nodded immediately, pushing back the remaining attackers with renewed ferocity.

And then Seongje pulled Sieun with him — guiding him out of the chaos, every muscle in his back tight and coiled as if he expected someone to attack from behind at any second.

It wasn’t possessiveness as Seongje doesn't even know what was his feelings towards Sieun. But what he knew was when Sieun had been standing in the middle of danger, especially his danger, the mark hadn’t just told him that they were soulmates.

It warned him that anything happens to Sieun, Seongje will feel it. If Sieun gets hurt, it will tear through him too. If Sieun dies—

His chest tightened as he tightened his grip on Sieun’s wrist. Seongje didn’t let go until they were completely out of the underpass.

⸻

Seongje didn’t sleep the night before.

He didn’t understand this soulmate bond at all. He didn’t understand why his head hurt when Sieun lied, didn’t understand why his wrist burned during danger, didn’t understand why the universe, out of every possible person, looked at two idiots who could barely stand each other and decided, Yes. These two. Bind them forever.

He hated things he couldn’t control.
He hated fate deciding for him.
But more than anything, he hated that Sieun was avoiding him like he was a disease.

So the moment school ended, he marched to Eunjang with one mission, to find Sieun and talk about it. He climbed the steps leading to Eunjang, jaw clenched, heart pounding too fast for someone who insisted he was unaffected.

And then he saw him.

Yeon Sieun was walking with Baku towards the gate like the world was normal. Like he hadn’t been screaming through blinding pain two nights ago. Like they hadn’t nearly lost their hands and sanity to a soulmate bond neither of them had wanted.

But the moment Sieun’s eyes lifted and met his, he looked away just as fast as shoulders stiffening, turning on his heel as if fleeing the opposite direction would break the bond entirely.

Something in Seongje snapped.

“YEON SIEUN!” His voice boomed across the courtyard like thunder. Conversations halted mid-sentence. A couple of students flinched. Even Baku stopped chewing gum.

“We need to talk,” Seongje said, already closing the distance with determined, heavy steps.

“What’s there to talk about?” Sieun replied, tone was flat but his shoulders were stiff.

Seongje didn’t bother debating. He just grabbed Sieun’s wrist and yanked him closer, ignoring the hiss Sieun let out.

“Yah! Seongje! Let him go!” Baku barked, stepping in protectively.

But the moment Seongje turned his head, something flickered in his eyes. It wasn't fully red, but tinted with something primal that only soulmate-deep bond would have.

Baku froze on the spot. Even Sieun blinked in shock. He had never seen anything like that flicker of raw instinct in Seongje’s gaze.

Seongje didn’t wait for permission. He tugged Sieun away from the school, down the side stairs, through a narrow path until they reached a secluded alleyway nearby Eunjang where the noise from the school faded into a distant hum.

The moment they stopped, Sieun ripped his hand free with a forceful shove.

“Are you insane?! You can’t just—”

“Why do you always act like you hate me?!”

The explosion in Seongje’s voice wasn’t anger. It was frustration, with a tinged of confusion. Sieun went still with his question because for once, Seongje didn’t sound like he wanted to fight. He sounded like he wanted an answer.

But instinct, pride, fear or whatever it was had made Sieun snap back before thinking.

“Because I do!”

The soulmate bond reacted instantly, punishing Seongje for Sieun's biggest lie yet. His knees buckled while his hand flew to his temple as his vision erupted into white static.

He would’ve collapsed straight to the ground if Sieun hadn’t lurched forward, catching him in both arms. Sieun’s eyes went wide in horror as he felt Seongje’s weight slump against him.

“Seongje? Shit— Seongje!” His voice cracked. “Hey, stay with me. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!”

He cradled Seongje’s head between trembling hands, thumbs brushing over his temples in frantic circles, trying to help soothe the headache even though he had no idea how to stop the pain.

It took several agonizing minutes for the pain to ebb.

When it finally lessened, Seongje exhaled, breath shaking. He leaned forward until his forehead pressed against Sieun’s shoulder, exhausted.

“Can we… please… just talk this out?” His voice was hoarse, almost pleading. “We need a solution before this bond kills us both.”

Sieun swallowed hard. He could feel Seongje’s heartbeat against his chest and their bond humming faintly under their skin.

He took a shaky breath and replied, “…Okay.”

The word felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t agreement, it was a surrender to the inevitability of the bond, the pain, the fear and to the fact that Seongje had practically collapsed in his arms minutes ago.

They both knew this wasn’t something they could ignore anymore.

So they walked slowly towards the nearest convenience store. It was only a short distance, but Seongje’s body still trembled from the curse’s backlash. Sieun didn’t trust him not to fall again, so without thinking, he kept a steadying hand on the small of Seongje’s back the entire way.

Each step brought a little more color back to Seongje’s face, a little more strength to his legs, but neither said anything about the closeness.

When they arrived, the fluorescent lights of the store flickered overhead, buzzing faintly. They took a seat at one of the small plastic tables outside. It was far enough from Eunjang that no students wandered by and close enough that they weren’t isolated.

“The soulmate bond is terrifying,” Sieun surprised both of them by speaking first.

He stared at the tabletop, fingers curled loosely around the edge as if grounding himself.

“It’s rare. No one knows how it works. There’s no guide, no manual, no one to ask.” His voice dropped lower. “I thought if I avoided you, maybe it would get weaker.”

Seongje let out a soft tired laugh, understood the emotion Sieun had felt the past few weeks after the revelation of them being soulmates.

“Do you think the universe is trying to play a joke on us?" he said, leaning back in his chair, eyes lifting to the dull sky. “Like, out of all humans, all possible soulmates, they picked us? I thought this kind of thing was a myth.”

Sieun didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at their wrists, at the faint glow pulsing beneath his skin. He could feel the matching warmth from Seongje even without looking.

“The universe is either mocking us,” Seongje’s voice softened watching Sieun, “or giving us a chance.”

That made Sieun inhale sharply. He didn’t know how to respond. Didn’t know how to even begin to unravel something that big, that dangerous, that intimate. His thoughts looped and tangled, the same questions echoing in his head as the ones Seongje had just spoken aloud.

The quiet between them stretched, but it wasn't awkward. They listened to the hum of vending machines, the soft shuffle of convenience store doors open and shut, the sound of each other breathing.

Then Sieun shivered.

It was barely noticeable but the bond made the reaction immediate. Seongje felt it like the flick of cold water across his spine.

Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over Sieun’s shoulders before Sieun even realized he was moving. The warm fabric blanketed him, shutting out the chill of the evening air.

“I don’t need—”

“Just wear it,” Seongje said, voice firm but gentle. “You’re cold.”

There was no teasing smirk and no arrogant tilt of his chin. Just sincerity. Worry disguised as practicality. Sieun swallowed hard, fingers gripping the edge of the jacket without realizing.

It smelled like cigarette smoke, cedar and the expensive laundry detergent Sieun always recognized but could never name. The warmth seeped into him slowly, calming the tension in his shoulders.

Seongje sat closer than before, so close that their knees brushed and neither moved away.

His next words were soft, vulnerable in a way Sieun had never heard from him.

“It’s terrifying,” he said. “This whole soulmate thing. I don’t want it, but…” his throat tightened, “…I don’t want to hurt you either.”

Sieun’s heart stuttered. Something inside him loosened, like a knot he’d been tightening for months finally slipping free.

“You… don’t want to hurt me?” Sieun echoed, unable to hide the rawness in his voice.

Seongje turned to him. His eyes were unguarded, held none of the swagger he usually wore.

“Not even a little,” he said, “Even when we’re acting like enemies.”

Between them, their marks pulsed gently. it was no longer a warning, but an acknowledgment. A soft hum of recognition making Seongje exhaled slowly.

“Sieun,” he said quietly, “what do we do?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than any punch, sharper than any wound. It was the first time either of them admitted out loud that this was bigger than their past fights, bigger than their pride.

Sieun looked down at his wrist again. The glow there was brighter now, as if waiting for an answer.

“We start,” he said, “with not lying.”

Seongje huffed as he let out a helpless, soft, almost affectionate laugh.

“Hardest rule you could’ve chosen.”

“Maybe,” Sieun replied quietly. “But if we break it, we could die. So I have to fix that first.”

Seongje nodded, expression finally easing, shoulders relaxing for the first time since the talk.

“Point taken.”

They sat there a little closer than before, breathing in the same cool evening air, not because the fate forcing the bond on them, but by something slowly becoming a choice.

⸻

After the mess of the soulmate bond, the headaches and that painfully honest conversation at the convenience store, something in the air between them shifts. Not softer nor warmer, just clearer. It was less hostile and less stubborn. Like both of them silently agreed to stop running.

So when the school bell rings and Eunjang kids spills out like a tidal wave of loud teenagers, Sieun steps through the front gates of Eunjang expecting the usual: Baku yelling about food, Juntae chasing Hyuntak with a banana he swore wasn’t his and gossip echoing around the gates.

But then, he could feel the bond pulses. A soft tug beneath his wrist, like someone quietly hooking a finger around his pulse and pulling in a direction he already knew too well.

Sieun stops walking and look around.

And he saw it, leaning against the school gate, half-shadowed by the late afternoon sun, was Geum Seongje with a cigarette between his lips, glowing faintly as he inhales, smoke curling lazily around him like he was posing for a magazine instead of loitering at a high school gate he shouldn’t even be at.

Sieun hesitates. His brain screams don’t go, but the soulmate bond nudges again — gentle, persistent, annoyingly warm. And then he remembers the agreement they made: no more lies, no more pretending and at least try to be civil with each other.

So he exhales, squares his shoulders and walks toward him. Seongje sees him immediately and flicked the cigarette away with a practiced snap and pushes himself off the wall in one smooth motion.

He didn's say anything and falls into step beside Sieun like their bodies automatically know how to align. Sieun tries not to think about how their shoulders nearly brush and how natural this feels.

But everyone else around them freezes.

Conversations cut mid-sentence. Someone’s vape straw falls out of their mouth. Two first-years crash into each other because they were too busy staring.

Baku just sighed, not really liking that Sieun now close to Seongje despite them being bonded. Juntae just blinked, knowing that this would happen since the first time they discovered that they were soulmates after that fight on the rooftop. While poor Hyuntak, just stands there blinking like his brain blue-screened.

“Wait, Sieun?” Hyuntak says, rubbing his eyes like he’s hallucinating. “You’re going home with Seongje?!”

“Correction, I’m going to cram school with Seongje," Sieun replied deadpanned.

Before Hyuntak can even process that sentence, Seongje throws him a lazy middle finger without even turning around.

Hyuntak sputters.
Baku starts filming.
Juntae shrieks, “OH MY GOD THEY’RE LIKE… ACTUALLY FRIENDS???”

But Sieun just keeps walking, gaze forward, the faintest flush on his cheeks from the attention while Seongje shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, matching Sieun’s pace step for step.

⸻

The night air outside the convenience store was thick with the usual after cram school exhaustion as the students slumped over plastic chairs and the scent of instant ramen lingering in the air.

Sieun sits at one of the plastic tables outside, surrounded by Baku, Hyuntak and Juntae, picking apart a warm bun to let the steam escape before taking a bite.

Then the soulmate bond pulsed once. Sieun barely had time to blink when a shadow dropped into the empty seat beside him.

Geum Seongje drops into the chair beside him like he owns the place with his legs spread and one arm thrown over Sieun's chair. His face is flushed, tired, but annoyingly handsome.

The table goes silent.

Across from them, Juntae froze mid-sip. Next to him, Hyuntak's jaw went slack and Baku blinked once, taken aback with Seongje randomly joining them. But Seongje didn’t care about any of them. His eyes were locked on the bun in Sieun’s hand.

“Give me a bite,” he said, voice rough and tired, like his life was sucked out when playing games.

Sieun stared, then scoffed. “Buy your own.”

“I’m tired,” Seongje says, monotone. “Bond’s hungry.”

The words landed like a grenade as Baku choked on pure air. Hyuntak slapped a hand over his mouth and Juntae dropped his entire can of cola onto his lap and didn’t even notice.

Sieun glares as his cheeks reddening. “It does NOT work like that.”

But when he actually looked at Seongje, the irritation slipped. There was something wrong beneath the bravado. His eyes were dull, unfocused around the edges, shoulders tight like he’d been suppressing a non-stop, simmering ache.

The bond pulsed faintly under Sieun’s wrist too, like it was tugging at him to tell that Seongje was actually exhausted. So without a word, Sieun sighs in defeat and tears off a piece of the bun, holding it out between his fingers.

“Here.”

He expected Seongje to grab it with his fingers. He did not expect Seongje to lean forward and take a bite directly from Sieun’s hand as if this was how they’d always fed each other.

Juntae shrieked at a pitch normally reserved for exorcisms. Hyuntak slapped the table like he needed physical confirmation of reality. Minjun smacked Yoojoon, who smacked him back.

Sieun recoiled so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

“YAH!” His elbow jabbed into Seongje’s ribs with enough force to make him grunt, “Are you INSANE?!”

But his ears were turning red, traitorously red.

Seongje looked up at him mid-chew, absolutely delighted.
That lazy, smug curve of his lips, the one that always spelled trouble, appeared as he swallowed.

“It was good,” he said simply, as if Sieun had given him the best bite of food he’d ever had.

With mortification flooding him, Sieun grabbed the remaining bun and shoved the entire thing into Seongje’s mouth just to shut him up.

“I don’t want to eat anymore! Take it!”

Seongje laughed through the mouthful, the sound low and warm, before swallowing the last of it like it was nothing. And then, without a word, he stood up and walked into the convenience store. His lackeys, who had been frozen nearby like confused NPCs, looked at each other.

“Do we… follow?”
“He didn’t say to.”
“He never says anything.”
“Park Doyoon, if you do not move, I swear—”
“OKAY, OKAY, GOING!”

They scrambled after him while the table fell into stunned silence.

Baku leans over the table, whispering with the seriousness of a man reporting a murder. “Did… did Seongje just EAT OUT OF YOUR HAND?”

“Please stop talking," Sieun groans into his palms.

A moment later, the automatic doors slide open again.

Seongje walked out carrying an armful of food like a mother preparing to feed an army. He had buns. Triangle kimbaps. Yakults. Two sandwiches. Three canned coffees. A random chip he probably didn’t even like. It was absurd.

He walked straight up to Sieun, didn’t break eye contact and dropped everything in a pile in front of him. The table shook from the weight.

“What—” Sieun started, stunned.

“Eat,” Seongje said simply. Then he turned around and walked away without another word. His lackeys scrambled after him again, very confused with whatever Seongje had just done, mumbling to each other.

“What is happening?”
“Did he just FEED him??”
“Are they dating now?”
“If I ask, will I die?”
“Yes.”
“Then I won't ask.”

Sieun just sits there, staring at the pile of food, ears red, fighting the urge to bury himself in the nearest trash bin.

Because everyone saw it. Every. Single. Thing.

And worse, the soulmate mark on his wrist glowed, very pleased with what Seongje did to him. Sieun pressed a hand over it, flustered, feeling heat climb up his neck.

“…Fuck.”

⸻

The first time they ever tried hanging out together, they ended up at the riverside of the Han River. Mostly because Sieun insisted they needed “fresh air” while studying and Seongje immediately agreed because fresh air or not, he just wanted to be wherever Sieun was or else he feel like punching everyone.

Sieun sat cross-legged on the grass, textbook open on his lap, while Seongje sprawled beside him like a cat in a sun patch, arms behind his head, hair glinting every time the breeze lifted it.

For the first few minutes, it was so calming that Sieun could actually focus. But beside him, Seongje’s breathing was turning slow and heavy, eyelids drooping with every passing second.

Sieun started reading the textbook aloud, more out of habit when studying alone. His voice was soft, carrying just enough in the open air. It wasn’t meant to be soothing, but to someone like Seongje, whose entire brain was held together by chaotic impulses and selective attention, it was deadly.

He pretended to be listening, nodded occasionally like he was absorbing information, but really he wasn’t hearing a single sentence. All he could think about was how nice Sieun’s voice sounded, how the sunlight caught on Sieun’s cheek, how his lashes dipped lower every time he glanced down at the page.

His gaze stayed glued to Sieun’s face for so long that he forgot he was supposed to hide it, until Sieun suddenly paused mid-sentence. With a slow turn of his head, Sieun lifted a brow.

“What? Why are you staring?”

Caught red-handed, Seongje panicked in the most Seongje way possible, by doing something stupid. He sat up and started stretching, like a man randomly preparing for a marathon.

“No reason,” he said, waving a hand dismissively, as if he hadn’t been staring at Sieun’s profile thirty seconds ago.

The headache hit Sieun like a sudden throb behind his eyes as the bond acting up in irritation, reacting to Seongje’s blatant lie. Without thinking, he punched Seongje’s thigh, hard enough to make the other boy yelp.

“That’s NOT ‘no reason!’”

“OW—! Okay, FINE!” Seongje exploded, throwing his hands up like he was surrendering to the police. “I was thinking that your voice is nice to listen to! Happy?!”

Silence fell instantly. The kind that punched the air out of both of them. Seongje froze, staring anywhere but at Sieun while Sieun stared at him, headache slowly fading as the warm, embarrassing truth settled between them.

Sieun let out a long breath, shoulders dropping as the pain dulled. Seongje, meanwhile, dragged a hand down his face and groaned like the universe was torturing him personally.

“You know what?” he muttered, sounding exhausted with himself, with the bond, with everything. “Screw this. Let’s just date. Isn’t that what this stupid bond wants anyway?”

Sieun blinked at him. Then rolled his eyes in the most nonchalant yet a reluctant small smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah… guess we should just do it then.”

The words hung between them, simple but electric. No grand confessions. No dramatic moment. Just two idiots sitting by the Han River, finally acknowledging what had been growing between them from the start.

Seongje exhaled like someone had finally lifted a weight off his chest. Sieun nudged him lightly with his knee. And there, under the fading light and the river breeze, they officially became a couple — not because fate demanded it, but because choosing each other suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world.

⸻

The next morning, Sieun woke up with the lingering warmth of last night tucked somewhere beneath his ribs. Nothing dramatic had happened after they decided to date. There no kiss, no hand-holding, nothing loud or movie-like, but the air between them had shifted.

Seongje showed up at his door disgustingly early, as if he’d been waiting for Sieun to step outside first. He stood there with a cigarette in his mouth, uniform half-tucked and took Sieun’s bag held casually in his free hand.

“Come on,” he said, not even giving Sieun a chance to protest before reaching out and straightening the collar of Sieun’s shirt. The touch was casual but Sieun felt his ears heat up anyway.

The walk to Eunjang was unusually quiet. Every few steps, Seongje would glance sideways at him, that stupid half-smirk on his lips, like he was remembering the moment by the Han River all over again.

Sieun elbowed him once, then twice and the only thing Seongje did was grin wider. Somewhere between the street corners and passing shops, the world felt warmer, like the city itself was acknowledging whatever had begun between them.

When they finally reached the gates of Eunjang, the morning crowd of students was gathering. And at the usual spot were Hyuntak, Juntae and Baku, waiting for Sieun like they did every day.

Hyuntak was mid-sentence about some dumb argument with Juntae, Baku was sipping something that looked like an energy drink and Juntae was whining with all the complaints Hyuntak had.

Then they all froze, because instead of Sieun arriving alone, he arrived with Seongje beside him, who was holding Sieun’s school bag.

Three pairs of eyes widened. Juntae stand up from his seat. Baku choked a little on his drink. Hyuntak squinted like he thought he was hallucinating.

Seongje didn’t seem bothered at all. He just stepped closer, handed Sieun his bag with a soft, “Study well".

Then, with absolutely no shame, he reached out and ruffled Sieun’s hair. Sieun hissed, swatting his hand away. “Stop doing that!”

“Make me,” Seongje murmured, amused. His voice was low and teasing, yet warm in that way that made Sieun want to hit him and kiss him in the same breath.

Hyuntak’s jaw dropped. “You two… what the hell?”

Baku looked between them like he was witnessing a crime. “Did Sieun just...did you just let him—?” He pointed at Sieun’s hair and then at Seongje, who only smirked harder.

Juntae blinked slowly. “Are… are we supposed to pretend this is normal?”

Seongje ignored all of them completely. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a few steps backward, already turning toward the direction of Ganghak High.

“I’ll pick you up after school,” he tossed over his shoulder, as if that was a perfectly ordinary thing to say.

Sieun’s friends stared while Sieun glared at Seongje who just waved lazily without looking back, the morning sun hitting his profile like it was made to spotlight him.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, the silence around Sieun exploded.

“ARE YOU TWO DATING NOW?!” Hyuntak grabbed his shoulders, as if to wake up Sieun from being possessed.

“WHY DID HE TOUCH YOUR HAIR LIKE THAT, NO ONE TOUCHES YOUR HAIR?!” Baku started to pace back and forth, hating the fact Sieun was close to Union's mad dog.

Juntae, folded his arms, squinting his eyes. “I knew something was weird between both of you and it's not your soulmate bond doing.”

Sieun rubbed his forehead, exasperated, face warm in a way he absolutely refused to acknowledge. “No. We’re just—”

“Just WHAT?” all three demanded in unison.

Sieun sighed, clutching his bag. “Just… dating.”

Chaos erupted instantly but Sieun didn’t really hear the shouting, because underneath it all, his chest felt strangely light and warm. Like the Han River sunlight from yesterday had followed him into the morning.