Archive of Our Own

Hyunjin never felt more like a fraud then he did in that exact moment. The silk on his body felt itchy despite how expensive the flowing shirt and fitted pants were. The former had been a gift - he had donated a few of his paintings to a charity auction and another sponsor had seen them. She had been so impressed by Hyunjin’s skill and how much money the paintings had raised that she sent him the silk shirt, fabric golden and shining in the warm lights of the gala ballroom.

He had attended more of these events than he could count over the span of his life. That was kind of expected when you were the son of an elite family. He had been given everything he ever wanted, without argument. As a child, he had been so spoiled.

It was only when he realized his parents would simply throw money at him to keep him from annoying them that he humbled himself. When he got into painting, it had been a catharsis he had never experienced before. No other hobby could bleed out his emotions the way colors on canvas could. He had almost wished for his parents to scoff - to tell him painting was unseemly and that he needed to put such childish things in the past so he could take over the family business.

Instead, they hummed and nodded, not looking him in the eye. They sent him some expensive paints and waved him off. He had painted a series of portraits after that night, none of which had seen the light of day. In the last few years, he had made quite the name for himself. That didn’t erase the responsibilities he had to uphold his family name, however.

Which was why he was walking into the gala, the ramen he had eaten earlier that day sitting like a rock in his stomach.

His friends liked to tease him for living like a college student but there was something rewarding living off his own money. Something real. They didn’t know what he had been through - the months of worrying if he’d be able to pay rent or afford food. No one would expect that from someone of his station.

The moment he stepped foot in the main ballroom, his eyes scanned for one particular face. The little voice in the back of his head berated him, but it was a habit at this point. It had been years that he had played this little game of his - a ritual that fueled his muse.

His traitorous heart skipped a beat when he locked eyes with the person he had been searching for.

Chan’s easygoing smile immediately dropped into a scowl when he realized who he was looking at.

Hyunjin’s stomach soured as he looked away.

He could already envision his next painting in his mind’s eye.

“Jin! Man it’s been ages!” Someone slammed into his side. Jisung grinned at him, his cheeks indicating that he had already paid the open bar a visit. “How’ve you been? I saw the articles about that charity gala - you were the main attraction for real.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Hyunjin put on his charming mask. While alone he was messy, neurotic, borderline nocturnal. In public - especially at events like this - he was the picture perfect son of a rich family. His clothes were impeccable, his hair slicked back. His makeup was subtle but flawless, highlighting his features and making him look like painting himself. “How have you been? I listened to the song you put out - it was amazing, Hannie. I liked how it was so unique but still somehow had your sound behind it.”

“You really liked it?” Jisung’s flush grew darker. “Ah! I’m so happy! I was so nervous when I released it. It was so different from everything else I’ve ever done but Channie hyung was the one who convinced me to go for it.”

Hyunjin’s smile twitched the smallest amount but his mask didn’t falter.

“He made a good call, then,” He needed a drink. “He’s always looking out for you.”

“He’s been the one person who’s believed in me every step of the way,” Jisung looked down at his shining shoes. “I wouldn’t have had the courage to start trying for a music career without him.

He needed a strong drink.

“He’s a very kind person,” Hyunjin’s throat stung a little. Jisung’s face immediately fell and Hyunjin wanted to run away. “I... I’m going to pay the bar a visit. We should find each other later on.”

“Look, I don’t know what his issue with you is,” Jisung frowned, tugging gently on Hyunjin’s flowing shirt sleeve. Without thinking, Hyunjin pulled back a little. He wasn’t used to being touched. Even chaste, friendly touches sent his nervous system off. “I tried getting him to explain to me why he’s such an asshole to you specifically but-”

“It’s fine,” Hyunjin needed that drink now. “We can’t make everyone like us. He’s entitled to his opinions.”

“But-”

Hyunjin let the flow of the crowd help him slip away. He couldn’t bring himself to hear what Jisung had to say next.

He knew Chan hated him. Why? Now that was something he didn’t know. He couldn’t recall a particular instance where they had a falling out at all, let alone one bad enough to warrant the animosity the older man seemed to feel towards him.

Despite knowing how Chan felt about him, Hyunjin couldn’t help but search him out. He couldn’t help but strain his neck looking through a crowd in hopes of catching a single glance. He couldn’t help but paint his feelings onto canvas after canvas.

He hoped no one had connected that the blurred faces that appeared in most of his paintings looked oddly similar to one another.

Chan was his strongest muse, the one that compelled him to paint for hours without a break. He fell into a trance, not stopping until he placed the final stroke. He didn’t know what he did to deserve Chan’s ire, but even if it was filled with vitriol, he was simply grateful to have Chan’s gaze on him at all.

He tried not to be obvious as he quickly drained his first drink. The alcohol instantly warmed his fingertips and he had a feeling he might actually be able to survive this evening with only a few emotional casualties. Getting a refill, he knew he needed to mingle with his parent’s friends or else he would never hear the end of it.

His parents didn’t care what he did with his life as long as he didn’t embarrass them. Their status was all that really mattered to them, so if they heard Hyunjin had ignored their important friends they would punish him. They wouldn’t yell or scold him - no, what they did was worse.

They completely ignored his existence. They pretended they never even had a son until they needed him back to save face. The last time he had disappointed them, they had ignored his attempts to converse for nearly six months. All his accounts had been frozen and his cards deactivated. He had to survive on selling his paintings to afford to eat. The only reason they pretended nothing happened was because they needed him to make an appearance at another extravagant event.

Hyunjin gave some halfhearted greetings and plastered a charming smile on his face. All the while he was looking over the other person’s shoulder for a particular set of sharp eyes. He had finished his drink almost fifteen minutes ago but he had gotten caught in conversation with one of his father’s business associates and couldn’t seem to find a break to escape.

“Interesting choice of attire.”

“Chan,” He jumped a little. His stupid, pathetic heart melted. Chan always smelled so good. Hyunjin had tried finding the cologne the older man used and failed at every turn. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Gold isn’t your color,” Chan hummed, smiling warmly at the man Hyunjin had been speaking to. Thankfully the man took the hint and left, though that meant Hyunjin was now alone with someone who hated him. “It’s tackier than what you normally wear.”

“It was a gift,” he tried to keep his tone level. “Ironically I don’t really have much in my wardrobe that matched tonight’s dresscode.”

“Maybe it would have been better if you simply stayed home then.” Chan wouldn’t even look at him. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip, giving Hyunjin a direct line of sight to his side profile and the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Hyunjin zeroed in on how a drop of whatever Chan was drinking got caught on his plush lips, and how his pink tongue darted out to catch it.

“Maybe I should have,” Hyunjin cleared his throat. “But I couldn’t risk the wrath of my parents. I don’t want to deal with the repercussions again.”

“It appears your glass is empty,” Chan decided to ignore what Hyunjin had said. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Mhm...” Hyunjin had to swallow back his disappointment. He craved Chan’s presence like a plant craved the sun. Even if the words coming from his beautiful mouth were biting, he craved Chan’s voice. He wanted to feel Chan’s heat soaking through his thin silk shirt for just a little bit longer, but Chan had already been swallowed up by the crowd.

His eyes burned a little as he made his way back to the bar. The bartender was busy, trying to greet guests, take orders, and made the drinks all at the same time. Hyunjin felt bad for the young man, but he also knew how nice the tips at the end of the night would be for him. By the time the bartender made it over to him, Hyunjin was musing the schematics of slipping out of the gala altogether and simply going home.

He smiled warmly, none of his internal turmoil showing from under his perfect mask. He got his refill and stepped off to the side. The front of the bar was crowded, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back out into the throng of wealthy socialites.

“Hey,” Someone said, making him jump a little. Looking over, Hyunjin saw a handsome man he had never seen before, which was strange. He thought he knew all the people his age in this ring of elites, so seeing a new face was almost exciting. “Come here often?”

“More often than I’d like,” He laughed a little at the cheesy pick up line. “What about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you at these events before.”

“Oh, this is my first one,” The man grinned, his smile cocky and attractive. “I feel like it’s obvious how new to the scene I am... it’s like they can smell it on me.”

“Careful,” Hyunjin found himself laughing a little easier. “They’re like sharks. Give them even a hint of blood and they lock on.”

“Mind if I stick by you for a while?” The man asked, stepping a little closer. “I lost my friend and I really don’t want to dive back onto that moshpit.”

Hyunjin found it easy to talk to this handsome stranger. He laughed at Hyunjin’s lame jokes and genuinely seemed interested in his rants about color theory. Hyunjin, for once, didn’t want to go home yet.

As they were about to leave the bar, Hyunjin could have sworn he felt eyes on him. Looking around, he felt the air freeze in his lungs. Chan was staring directly at him, his gaze somehow more hateful than ever before. Hyunjin felt a shiver go down his spine. He tried to convince himself that Chan wasn’t actually looking at him - if he lied to himself enough, he could say Chan’s gaze was locked on something slightly behind him.

“I need some air,” The handsome stranger placed a hand on the small of Hyunjin’s back. “Care to join me?”

“The gardens are beautiful at this venue,” Hyunjin swallowed the butterfly in the back of his throat. When was the last time someone touched him so purposefully? The stranger’s hand was firm and near scalding through the thin silk of his shirt. “I could... show you?”

“I’d like that.” The stranger grinned. Hyunjin got them both refills before leading the handsome stranger away from the party. As they went, the burn of those eyes seemed to increase.

“I come out here all the time,” Hyunjin explained, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s hard to stay there for long... it gets a little suffocating, if I’m being honest.”

“I can imagine,” The handsome stranger stood a little closer. “Fuck... you’re so beautiful.”

“Th-thank you,” The knot of nerves in his chest seemed to throb. “It always feels a little showy, the way I’m expected to dress up for these events.”

“Well if you want to get out of here...” He trailed off, his gaze darkening. Hyunjin felt a sharp jolt of fear.

“I-I probably shouldn’t leave yet,” He choked on the excuse. “I- um, my parents wouldn’t be very happy with me-”

“They don’t have to know,” He stepped closer. “You’ve been here long enough. People have seen you... now why don’t you let me see you a little closer?”

Before Hyunjin could bolt, the handsome stranger was gripping his face harshly and kissing him with equal violence. Hyunjin tried to struggle but the stranger was far stronger than him. The stranger bit his lip hard and Hyunjin’s mouth was instantly filled with his own blood.

His instincts kicked in. He lashed out, punching the man in the stomach as hard as he could. He knew it wasn’t enough force seeing how close together they were standing but it was enough to get him to let go.

“You little bitch-” The stranger growled, his once charming smile twisted into something feral. Before Hyunjin could blink, he was on the ground, his cheek smarting something fierce. The stranger shook his hand and only then did Hyunjin connect that he had been punched.

“What the fuck are you-” Hyunjin grunted as the stranger grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him up. The thin silk ripped easily as the stranger wrapped his hand around Hyunjin’s throat.

“And here I thought you’d be easy,” The man snarled. “If you won’t let me fuck you, the least you can do is let me fuck up that pretty face of yours.”

“N-no!” Hyunjin struggled, his knee striking upwards. He hit something, and the handsome stranger grunted as he let go of Hyunjin’s ruined shirt.

His heart was thudding against this ribcage, the adrenaline making him feel sick to his stomach. He tried to run only to find himself being tackled to the ground. He would have screamed at the way his ankle twisted under him, but the stranger’s hand was clapped heavily over his mouth and nose. Eyes widening, Hyunjin struggled harder.

There was no way he was going to let this bastard do what he wanted - not without a fight, at least.

The stranger’s other hand snaked down his chest, his nails digging into Hyunjin’s stomach painfully. He tried to scream again but the sound was muffled by the man’s palm. He was starting to get lightheaded as he scrambled to find purchase. His nails scraped against the back of the man’s hand but his nails were too short to do any real damage. He had been meaning to kick his habit of biting them but never actually managed to do so.

He was never going to bite his nails again after this.

With one last burst of self-preservation, Hyunjin slammed his head forward. His skull cracked against the stranger’s, causing him to fall backwards. Hyunjin didn’t glance back for even a second before running away - though running was a generous term. With his twisted ankle, he was hobbling at best.

He could hear the stranger howl in rage as he hid behind a large bush. He hadn’t been lying when he said he spent many hours over the years in this garden. He knew the layout like the back of his hand, which was playing to his advantage.

Waiting until the stranger’s footsteps got fainter, Hyunjin darted away as best as he could. He was crying silently, far too petrified of the stranger hearing him to fully devolve into the sobs threatening to consume him.

Slipping back into the venue, he saw the supply closet. Back when he was sixteen he and a young socialite girl had snuck away to kiss in that exact closet. They had been caught quickly, but they actually managed to remain friends years later.

He carefully looked around, eyes wild and darting as he tried to see anyone who might be walking along the hallway. When he was certain the coast was clear, Hyunjin ran and slipped into the closet. He slumped in a corner, hiding behind a shelf holding all manner of supplies.

He clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his cries. He didn’t know where the stranger was, and he wasn’t about to risk being caught by him. If the man found him in the closet, there would be no way for Hyunjin to escape him a second time.

He felt something in his pocket buzz. He pulled his phone out and saw a notification from his personal twitter account. Without looking at the notification, he unlocked his phone. There was only one person he wanted, even if that person hated him.

Hyunjin knew Chan would laugh at him and ignore his text, but he was so fucking scared and in so much fucking pain that he gave into the impulse.

He had gotten Chan’s number by accident a few years prior when Jisung added him to the wrong group chat. By that point Chan already hated him, and Hyunjin had already become smitten by the older man, so despite the guilt eating away at him, he had saved Chan’s number, content to never use it.

’Chan’

‘It’s Hyunjin’

‘I’m in the supply closet in the east wing’

‘Please come’

He didn’t expect Chan to even open the texts, let alone read them but the ‘delivered’ turned to ‘just read’ almost instantly. The little typing bubble popped up and Hyunjin couldn’t stop the way his stomach rolled. He turned his head to the side and emptied everything he had consumed - it was mostly alcohol with some half digested noodles and blood. The scent of bile only made his stomach roll more, causing him to gag until there was nothing left to expel.

Looking at his phone, Hyunjin felt numb when he saw Chan had replied.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me’

‘Is this some sort of prank?’

‘As if I’d ever be caught dead meeting you in a closet’

Hyunjin bit back another sob only to whine pathetically when his teeth agitated the split on his lip. He could feel himself shaking violently but he couldn’t really feel anything else. A small voice in the back of his head told him his ass should ache from sitting on the hard ground but he couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel the split in his lip, or the bruise that was surely forming on his cheek.

‘Please’

‘It hurts’

‘I’m scared’

‘He’s going to find me’

‘pkease’

‘Hyunh pleade’

Hyunjin could barely see his screen through his tears. His hands were trembling so violently that his phone rocketed itself across the room. He saw the screen glowing just out of reach but couldn’t bring himself to reach for it. Bringing his legs up to his chest, he whimpered again. His stomach hurt? It seemed like everything hurt.

Hiding his face in his arms, he allowed himself to sob silently into his ruined shirt. He knew Chan would never come, so he tried to summon the strength to stand. He knew the gala would go on for several more hours, and he couldn’t allow anyone to see him in this state. The whispers would get back to his parents before the end of the night.

Maybe he could slip out the back? Not many people knew the ins and outs of this particular venue, but Hyunjin had an entire lifetime of slipping away from the loud, drunken adults to find a quiet place. He knew all the exits.

There was a fire door in the staircase at the end of the hallway he was in. If he was in perfect health he would be able to make it to the door in a matter of seconds. In his current state? He wasn’t so sure.

He should get an Uber to pick him up. If he ordered it now, it should be waiting out front for him by the time he dragged his battered body out of the closet. But that would require grabbing his phone and the thought of moving enough to reach it made his tears flow harder down his throbbing cheeks.

He couldn’t stay there for long. Every second he waited was a second closer to the stranger finding him again. The only way he could guarantee his own safety was to be off the venue’s property and in his own flat where he could lick his wounds and sob as loudly as he needed.

He just needed to... move-

A loud bang came from the door. The scream caught in Hyunjin’s throat as he scrambled back, pressing himself tighter against the wall. His heart was aching from how hard it was beating and he could feel his breathing pick up. He couldn’t afford to have a panic attack!

There was another knock and someone said his name. Through the wood, he couldn’t tell who it was. It didn’t quite sound like the stranger, but with how his ears were ringing he couldn’t know for certain.

Looking around wildly, he tried to spot anything that could be used to defend himself. The second the door opened, he would have one shot to land a blow and bolt. If he couldn’t do that, he would be completely at the mercy of the stranger. He grabbed the first thing that caught his eye - a large, worn screwdriver. He gripped it so tightly his knuckles turned white, the metal end shaking as he held it out in front of himself.

The door slowly creaked open, letting the light from the hallway spill in. He could see the shadow of the stranger and realized his vision was beginning to go spotty. His heart was thudding loudly in his ears as his lungs inhaled and inhaled and refused to exhale.

“H-hey...” A voice said, far too close. Without thinking Hyunjin blindly lashed out, hoping the screwdriver would hit something vital. He felt it hit... something, but it was quickly removed from his hands.

“No-” He pushed himself against the wall again, making himself as small as possible even though it tugged at his wounds. “Don’t touch me-”

“Hyunjin!” There were gentle hands on his wrists. He panicked and tried to break free, his scream coming out in breathy, uneven pants. “Hey! Look at me!”

Hyunjin couldn’t see anything. Between the tears and his own fear he was blind. It wasn’t until a familiar scent filled his nose that his brain managed to put a name to the person crouching in front of him.

“Chan?” His voice was raspy and trembling.

“What- who did this to you?” Chan sounded furious, but instead of making Hyunjin panic, it had him throwing himself into the older man’s arms. He sobbed loudly now, knowing he was safe.

Chan was there. He wouldn’t let the stranger lay a single finger on him.

He could feel how tightly Chan was holding him and he knew it should have hurt, but he found this pain was desirable compared to everything else he was feeling. It was grounding. It was real.

“Shhh... shh, hey... hey you’re okay,” Chan’s voice was painfully soft. He rocked Hyunjin, cooing and petting his hair gently until the younger man finally managed to take a breath without choking. “Are you back with me?”

“Chan...” He kept his face hidden in Chan’s chest. He wouldn’t be able to survive looking up and seeing disdain in the older man’s face. If Chan hated him before, there was no way he’d have any positive feelings towards Hyunjin after Hyunjin just soaked the front of his shirt with tears and blood.

“You’re okay,” Chan murmured again. “Can.... can you look at me?”

Hyunjin shook his head and he could have sworn he felt Chan chuckle softly.

“Please, baby? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help himself. Hearing the petname, his head shot up. He winced as the motion caused the world to spin a little. There was a gentle touch on his lip, then his cheek, then his forehead. Chan let out a low, shaking breath before cupping Hyunjin’s cheeks with such a painfully careful touch that Hyunjin felt his heart shatter.

“Was it that guy you were talking to?” Chan asked, words vibrating with something dangerous. Hyunjin could only imagine how much of a mess he was. He could feel the bruise on his cheek getting worse and the splitting headache wasn’t helping him focus his eyes in the slightest.

“...’rry...”

“Hm? I couldn’t hear you, love.”

“...’m sorry,” Somehow he still had tears to shed. “I’m sorry... I-I shouldn’t have t-texted y-you-”

“No, you absolutely should have texted me,” Chan denied instantly. “Because if I found out about this after the fact I might have done something stupid.”

“Sorry... I’m sorry...” Hyunjin kept muttering into Chan’s warm palms. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”

“Please stop apologizing,” Chan’s plea made his voice crack a little. “You didn’t do anything wrong...”

“Hurts...”

“I know, baby,” Chan helped him stand only for his face to twist when Hyunjin’s ankle gave out under him. “Holy fuck-”

His eyes widened when he saw the true extent of the damage. The ruined shirt, the marks on his chest. The blood soaked into the ruined silk. Hyunjin must look truly awful if the older man was being so gentle.

“Tell me what hurts.” Chan ordered softly.

“My cheek,” Hyunjin let his eyes fall shut. His head hurt a little less when they were closed. “My lip... my head. I twisted my ankle. I-I don’t think it’s broken, at least. My sides kinda hurt. He tackled me when I tried to run.”

“I see...” Chan sounded only a tick below murderous.

“I wanna go home...”

“Okay, love,” Chan murmured. “I’ll take you home. I’ll make sure no one sees you, yeah? Can’t have those rich bastards gossiping about this.”

Hyunjin tried to hobble towards the door with Chan’s help but found himself hurtling back towards the ground. The only reason he didn’t make contact was because strong arms wrapped themselves around his middle, holding him steady.

“Don’t worry,” Chan assured him. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Why?” Hyunjin felt delirious as Chan scooped him into his arms. “I thought you hated me...”

“I...” Chan trailed off for a second before sighing. “To be honest, I think I hated the version of you I made up in my head. When we met, you reminded me so much of my ex that I shoved all that anger onto you...”

“Oh...” Hyunjin should have been elated that Chan probably - maybe, sort of - didn’t actually hate him. Instead, he had to put all his focus towards not falling asleep. He was suddenly so very tired and Chan’s steps were so even and gentle that he was quickly being lulled to sleep.

“Hey,” Chan jostled him a little. Hyunjin winced as his wounds twinged but at least he was able to open his eyes. Chan was looking straight ahead, carefully watching for anyone who wandered too far from the party. “Keep your eyes on me, yeah? No falling asleep.”

“Mhm...” Hyunjin could do that. He was good at looking at Chan, though he never really had the chance to look at the older man so closely before. He tried to memorize all the tiny details but he worried the headache would prevent him from cementing them into his mind for future paintings.

The ride back to his flat passed in a blur. He remembered giving Chan his address and being carefully placed in the car itself, and the scalding hand on his thigh that would give his leg a little squeeze every time he closed his eyes for too long. Before he really knew what was happening, he was being lifted out of the car again.

“Which one is yours?” Chan asked as they walked into the building.

“Second floor,” Hyunjin’s head rested against Chan’s shoulder. “Unit four.”

“We’re almost home,” Chan assured him. Hyunjin liked the way Chan said it. We’re almost home, he said. “Just keep your eyes open for a little longer.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know, but we need to get you cleaned up,” Chan explained, tone soft and patient as he carried Hyunjin as though he weighed nothing at all. “If you really do have a concussion, I’ll drive you to the hospital but I figured you wouldn’t want to go in this condition.”

“No hospital,” Hyunjin panicked a little. If his parents found out- “I can’t-”

“Shh, okay,” Chan conceded immediately. “Alright, no hospital...”

Hyunjin relaxed at the assurance. He mumbled the code to the keypad and winced as the high pitched beeping made his head throb in pain. The moment he was in his loft, more of the tension in his shoulders melted away. The scent of paints and his favorite candle filled his senses, mixed with Chan’s cologne to create a blanket of comfort that settled over him.

“Can you stand?”

“I think so.” Hyunjin’s mind was a little clearer. His headache was fading slightly, and knowing that he was safe allowed his body to release the desperate tension it had been holding onto. Now that his muscles weren’t tensed for survival, much of his aches seemed to calm. Chan placed him down, keeping one arm around his waist just in case he collapsed again. Once he was confident Hyunjin was fine, he pulled his touch away.

Hyunjin tried to pretend his heart didn’t keen at the loss.

“Um... thank you,” Hyunjin whispered awkwardly. “For... for coming to get me and bringing me home. I- uh, I bet you weren’t too happy to see my texts at first.”

“I was confused for sure,” Chan admitted, looking around the loft. It comforted Hyunjin a little, knowing Chan wasn’t looking directly at him. “But when you started begging I just...”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think I ever want to hear those words come from your mouth again.”

“I’m s-” Hyunjin cut himself off when he saw Chan glare at him from the corner of his eye. “Um... I’m going to go shower. You can stay, if you want. I can make coffee or something when I’m done but... but you don’t have to stay. You can go, if you want.”

“Go shower.” Chan waved off his rambling. Hyunjin nodded and hesitated before hobbling over to what Chan assumed was the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, Chan started looking around the room. He knew Hyunjin painted, but the canvases littering every surface held paintings the like Chan had never seen.

The ones Hyunjin shows in public are soft. Florals and still lifes and dreamy portraits that evoked a feeling of euphoria when you looked at them. The paintings in the loft were darker. More emotions. They were full of harsh strokes and muddled colors and striking expressions. Stepping closer, Chan could have sworn the one he was looking at was familiar somehow.

He tried to focus on the painting, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how everything went to shit as soon as he received Hyunjin’s text. He was shocked, then confused, then slightly irritated.

He always felt some sort of unwarranted animosity towards the younger man, but the way Hyunjin acted so polished and perfect just rubbed him the wrong way. Hyunjin was uncrackable, even when Chan said awful things.

Chan hated it. He hated how untouchable and perfect Hyunjin was. He was every socialite parent’s dream child and Chan?

Chan could never be that.

His parents hated that he was pursuing music. They threatened all sorts of things to make him stop, but he refused every time. When he saw Hyunjin, all he could think about was how his parents would rant and rave about how Chan should be more like the Hwang’s son. It didn’t help that Hyunjin’s lofty act was so similar to Chan’s ex that just the sight of the painter made Chan’s blood boil.

Seeing Hyunjin’s desperate texts awoke something in him.

He didn’t know what to expect when he got to the closet. Part of him still expected it to be some sort of prank but his heart sank when he heard the broken whimper of fear after he knocked.

Did Hyunjin not see his text that he was on his way?

Opening the door, he found himself absolutely shattering. Hyunjin was pressed up against the wall, a screwdriver shaking so badly in his hands that he was barely even holding on. Chan immediately saw the bruise forming on his cheek and the dried streak of blood on his forehead.

He looked utterly terrified, the white of his eyes showing all around his pupils. Chan didn't know a human could make such an expression.

Hyunjin had lashed out, jabbing the screwdriver into Chan’s arm but Chan barely felt it. The motion revealed more damage - his silk shirt, ripped to shreds and stained with blood. Claw marks marring the parts of his chest that were now exposed. Chan didn’t think twice - he pulled Hyunjin into his arms.

He could feel the moment Hyunjin realized he was safe, the younger man breaking down fully as soon as Chan’s arms were fully around him.

Chan was familiar with anger. He was familiar with rage. He tried to hold it back as much as he could, because he didn’t want it to control his life. The absolute, mind altering wrath he felt slamming into him like violent waves was something he had never experienced before.

He tried to be a pacifist when the situation allowed him to be.

He knew, without a doubt, that if he saw that bastard that he wouldn’t stop attacking until he stopped twitching.

Chan was worried about a concussion, but it seemed the longer Hyunjin was awake the more aware he was becoming. He didn’t think before acting, scooping Hyunjin into his arms and sneaking him out the back door. He drove Hyunjin to his home, not giving a second thought to what he would do once he was there.

And now he was looking at a painting Hyunjin had done, trying to figure out why the man on the canvas looked so familiar. It took a moment, but when it clicked he felt the world around him shift.

It was him. Hyunjin had painted Chan.

A beat after his revelation, Chan heard a crash from the bathroom.

“Hyunjin? He flew to the bathroom door and knocked gently. Hyunjin didn’t respond so he knocked again. There was silence for a moment before there was a muffled thud - like a body falling onto the ground. “Fuck-”

He prayed Hyunjin hadn’t locked the door and nearly sobbed when the knob turned easily. He threw open the door, expecting the worst.

“Hyunjin, honey,” He dropped to his knees and pulled Hyunjin into his arms. There was a mess on the ground, as if Hyunjin had knocked everything off the vanity. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Hyunjin was shaking. He thought he was fine. He thought he would be able to handle something as simple as a shower. He closed the door behind him, leaving Chan in his home alone. He didn’t really expect Chan to stay, but it hurt too much to think about exiting the bathroom to an empty loft.

Stripping out of his ruined clothes, Hyunjin mourned the expensive shirt. It hadn’t really been his style, but it had been a gift. Stepping out of his pants, he sighed and turned towards the shower.

In doing so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

It felt like his world had ground to a stop.

He didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. The man in his reflection looked like shit. The bruise on his cheek was large and getting darker by the moment. His lip was swollen and scabbed, blood dried and flaking on his chin. There was a small cut on his forehead, more blood dried into his eyebrow.

Taking a staggering step back, he almost threw up. His chest was massacred, claw marks marring his skin. Some of the marks had broken the skin, the blood smeared across the rest of the lines. Hyunjin stumbled forward, not believing what he was seeing. His ankle twisted under him and he barely managed to catch himself on the sink. In doing so, he managed to swipe all his makeup and skincare left from earlier that day onto the ground.

Looking up, he found himself nose to nose with the stranger in the mirror. Up close, he somehow looked even worse. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks ruddy from tears. He could see the way the stray strands of hair trembled with his body.

“Hyunjin?” There was a knock at the door. It broke Hyunjin from his stupor and his legs found themselves unable to hold him up any longer. He collapsed to the ground, legs splayed out and his hands bracing him against the cold tiles. “Fuck-”

Chan burst into the bathroom, his eyes wild. As soon as he saw Hyunjin, he collapsed beside him.

“Are you alright?” The older man asked softly.

“I-I-” Hyunjin choked on his words. “I don’t know him.”

“The guy who did this to you?”

“No- yes, but-” Hyunjin let his forehead fall onto Chan’s shoulder. “In the mirror... I didn’t even recognize myself.”

“That’s okay,” Chan assured him. “The person in the mirror had a pretty rough night, yeah? You can’t blame him for looking a little off.”

Hyunjin couldn’t help but chuckle a little before falling silent.

“I’m sorry.”

“What did I say-”

“I know this isn’t how you ever would have wanted to spend your night,” Hyunjin’s eyes stung, but he wasn’t sure he had any more tears to shed. “I know you don’t like me... but thank you for believing me. You- we can pretend this never happened. You don’t have to deal with me anymore-”

“Deal with you?” Chan sounded aghast. “Hyunjin-”

“Don’t sound so genuine,” He all but begged. “My heart can’t handle it.”

“Hyunjin...”

“You know? I never understood why you hated me so much,” Hyunjin whispered. “I tried to think of what I did to deserve it but...”

“You never did anything wrong-”

“But if you’re going to hate me,” Hyunjin continued as though Chan had never spoken. “I can finally give you a reason.”

“What do you-”

Chan’s eyes widened incredulously as Hyunjin surged upwards, slotting their lips together. He felt Hyunjin wince when his lip was jostled in the kiss but the younger man didn’t allow him to pull back.

“What...” He breathed, feeling untethered as Hyunjin finally broke the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin offered him such a sad smile that Chan felt his heart tremble. “I just... ah, you’ll think I’m crazy if I say it outloud.”

“Wh- I won’t think you’re crazy.” Chan promised. Hyunjin closed his eyes, letting his head fall onto Chan’s shoulder again. He took a deep breath and held it for a few counts before slowly releasing the air through his nose.

“Part of me thinks... what happened tonight was worth it,” He whispered his confession as though he believed himself to be struck down if he was too loud. “If it meant being able to kiss you even once.”

“I’m sorry,” Chan buried his face in Hyunjin’s hair, letting his tears fall onto the younger man’s scalp. “I never should have been so cruel to you... I never should have let that bastard get anywhere near you...”

“You- you know him?”

“I did,” Chan admitted it like it was a crime. “We were working on music together, a few years back. We were planning on being a duo... then he fucked me over. He fucked Jisung over. He showed his true colors and I thought I’d never have to see him again. Seeing him tonight- seeing him cornering you? It made me so fucking mad but I-I couldn’t bring myself to confront him. Not after everything.”

“You were glaring at him,” Hyunjin realized with a start. “Not me.”

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

“No,” Hyunjin wasn’t entirely lying. “Not as bad as before.”

“I can get you some painkillers while you shower.”

“Can you-” Hyunjin cut himself off, ears warming.

“Can I what, love?”

“Can you stay? While I shower?”

“I-” Chan sounded shocked, his arms around Hyunjin tightening a smidge. “Yeah... yeah I can stay. I can sit on the toilet.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course... and Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin finally looked up at Chan properly. There was a melancholy sort of look on the older man’s face, as if he had seen some great tragedy play out in front of his eyes. Chan carefully cupped Hyunjin’s cheek in his hands and brought the younger man’s forehead to his lips, placing a soft kiss just beside the cut.

“You never deserve this sort of treatment,” He swore. “Please don’t accept any of this as okay just because you kissed me.”

“But-”

Chan cut him off with a soft kiss, on his lips this time. Hyunjin gasped into the kiss, his split lip trembling softly against Chan’s. They kissed, barely any pressure being applied to it, and Hyunjin felt his heart soar. Chan held him so carefully, so aware of his wounds. He kissed Hyunjin like he was something fragile - something worth preserving.

“You-” Chan cleared his throat as he pulled away from the kiss. Hyunjin couldn’t help but openly stare at the faint blush on the older man’s face. “You should shower. I’m sure you’ll feel much better once all the blood is gone. When... when you’re done, I can do some first aid, if you want.”

“Please,” Hyunjin swallowed around the knot in his throat. “I- I don’t think I’ll be able to reach everything properly.”

Chan nodded in understanding and helped Hyunjin to his feet. Neither man seemed concerned about the fact that Hyunjin was wearing nothing but his briefs. Anger flashed on Chan’s face when he saw the true extent of the marks on the younger man’s stomach but he didn’t say anything. As Hyunjin stepped away, Chan couldn’t help but trail his fingers along one of the shallower lines.

Hyunjin shivered at the touch.

He showered as quickly as he could, grimacing at the red swirling down the drain. He felt leagues better already. He supposed throwing up everything in his stomach was a pretty efficient way to sober up, and after talking to Chan it felt like an entire building’s worth of weight had been lifted off his chest.

Stepping out of the shower, he was almost shocked to see Chan was still there. Chan wrapped a towel around his waist before taking another from the rack above the toilet. He led the younger man to sit on the toilet and gently dried his hair, careful not to jostle any of his wounds too badly.

It was a silent affair as Chan smeared medical cream on the deeper cuts on Hyunjin’s stomach, taping gauze over them and carefully patting the edges of the tape to make sure they were secure. He did the same for the cut on his forehead before taking the brush on the rack and running it through Hyunjin’s hair.

“Come on,” Chan helped him stand. Hyunjin kept the towel around his waist with one hand, his other held firmly in Chan’s. “I’ll grab some icepacks when you get dressed, yeah?”

Hyunjin didn’t trust his voice so he just nodded. Leaving the bathroom behind, he went to his dresser and pulled out his rattiest lounge clothes - a pair of sweatpants with the elastic completely stretched out and paint smeared along the leg and an oversized t-shirt, the fabric so well loved that it had softened and faded over time. He made his way back to the couch, where Chan was already waiting.

“You look cozy,” Normally such a comment would have been biting and sarcastic, but there was a soft smile on Chan’s face as he gestured for Hyunjin to sit. He sat beside the younger man and pulled his injured leg up onto his lap. “I never though I’d see you so... dressed down.”

Hyunjin winced a little as Chan placed an icepack on his ankle before accepting the second pack and holding it up to his cheek. The cold was jarring at first, but almost immediately the pain began to recede.

“I don’t have a lot of clothing that’s suited to galas anymore,” He murmured. “I’ve been trying to live off my own earnings... Thankfully I’ve sold a few paintings for a decent lump sum so I have a good amount of savings but- but if my parents decide to cut me off again I refuse to struggle to eat ever again.”

“They did what?” Chan sounded horrified.

“About... a year and a half ago?” It was hard for him to remember exactly how long ago it happened because he did his best to block it out. “I embarrassed them in front of their friends. They decided to completely cut me off - they acted like I didn’t even exist. Like they never had a son in the first place. They froze all my accounts and canceled all my cards. I got a part time job and managed to sell a few of my paintings to the lowest bidder just to make rent on this shitty little loft. After like, six months they realized they needed me to make an appearance for some event so they just- they just pretended like nothing happened. I got access to my accounts again, but after that I never trusted them again. I try to live frugally because I never want to have sleep for dinner ever again.”

“I’m- I’m so sorry,” Chan’s hand mindlessly ran along Hyunjin’s shin. “That’s absolutely deranged.”

“It could have been worse,” Hyunjin shrugged. “They could have beat me.”

Chan winced at the poorly timed joke.

“My parents hate that I’m trying to get into music,” He admitted. Hyunjin blinked, as if shocked Chan was opening up. “They tried everything to get me to give up on it. Bribing me, threatening me... they tried setting me up with an arranged marriage so I’d have something else to focus on but I couldn’t go through with it.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give up,” Hyunjin whispered. “I really like your music.”

“You-” Chan jolted as though Hyunjin had electrocuted him. “You’ve listened to my music?”

“Of course,” He chuckled a little at the gobsmacked expression on Chan’s face. In all the years they had known each other, Hyunjin had never seen such an expression - never thought Chan capable of such an expression. “I listen to all of Jisung’s music, so of course it’s inevitable to find yours... I can hear your influence in his songs.”

“I...”

“I can tell that your songs are like my paintings,” Hyunjin put more pressure on the icepack, pressing the chill into his skin a little harder. “It’s an emotional escape. A catharsis when the world gets too much.”

“That’s exactly it,” Chan said, tone reverent. “I can see it in the paintings here. These are nothing like the ones you show to the public.”

“You’ve seen my work?” It was Hyunjin’s turn to blink incredulously.

“Jisung has... what? Three of your paintings hanging up? Four?” Chan chuckled, shooting Hyunjin a small, warm smile. “Besides, I went to your gallery exhibition. Jisung wanted to go but was worried about the crowds so I went with him.”

“Did you like it?” He didn’t know why he was so scared to hear Chan’s answer.

“Very much,” He replied after a moment. “I... I was so close to buying one for myself. The only reason I didn’t was because someone beat me to it.”

“Really?” Hyunjin sat forward, forgetting all about the icepack. Chan caught it before it dropped and reached out to hold it to Hyunjin’s cheek himself.

“I was embarrassed by how upset I was that I didn’t get it,” He continued, tone hushed as he avoided Hyunjin’s wide eyes. “I don’t know why I was so upset.”

“I’ll paint you something special,” Hyunjin promised. “As a thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for this,” Chan shook his head. “It was the bare fucking minimum after years of treating you like shit.”

“I never minded,” Hyunjin sighed, leaning into the chill again. “I... it’s going to sound so pathetic but I never cared that you hated me because at least I was worthy enough to occupy space in your mind. At least I was enough to catch your eye, even if your gaze was disgusted by me.”

“I don’t deserve your reverence,” Chan closed his eyes. Hyunjin felt him try to pull his hand away and acted without thinking. He brought his hand up to hold Chan’s so they were both keeping the icepack against his cheek. “Hyunjin-”

“I tried so hard to hate you,” He continued. “But I never could.”

Chan opened and closed his mouth a few times before giving up entirely. Hyunjin shifted so his leg was completely over Chan’s lap and he was able to curl into the older man’s chest. Without prompting, Chan wrapped his arms around Hyunjin’s waist, resting his cheek against the top of the younger man’s head.

Hyunjin didn’t recall dozing off but he found himself jolting awake as he felt himself being picked up. Through sleepy, hazy eyes he saw Chan carrying him across the loft. He was placed down on his bed with the utmost care, as if he were made of glass.

“Where are you going?” He reached out and caught Chan’s wrist.

“I... I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” He replied, back to the bed.

“Stay?”

“I don’t-”

“Please,” Hyunjin gave Chan’s wrist a little tug. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

And it was like he had flipped a switch in Chan. The older man turned around and crawled into bed with him, leaving a small gap between them. Hyunjin gazed at him, trying to memorize this moment.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

“You never have to worry about that bastard again,” Chan promised. He reached his hand out, placing it in the middle of the gap between them. “I have some contacts... As soon as they get the details of what happened tonight, he’ll be locked away for good.”

Hyunjin blinked once, then twice. He reached out and placed his hand over Chan’s and hummed.

“Thank you.”

“Go to sleep,” Chan laced their fingers together. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Hyunjin wanted to fight the siren’s call. He wanted to see Chan as he drifted off to sleep himself, see how his face relaxed and his breathing evened out. He could almost imagine how soft Chan looked in his sleep. Unfortunately he was dragged down into the depths of slumber before he had the chance to mentally map out his next painting.