[C79] YOU CAN'T RUN (BUT YOU CAN HIDE) (1/2)
Prompt Code: C79
Title: You Can’t Run (But You Can Hide)
Rating: PG-13
Side Pairings (if any): a single sentence of Seho?
Warnings: ghosties, a tiny bit of blood
Word Count: 17k
Summary: Kyungsoo can see ghosts. Jongin can’t. They figure it out.
AN: wow! Okay! This fic took me a billion years to write but when i saw the prompt i just had to have it. I’ve seen the Master’s Sun like, 3 times? Hopefully this sorta does it justice! (ps: you don’t need to have seen the drama to read this!)
Do Kyungsoo was a peculiar boy.
He wasn’t necessarily peculiar in the sense that he was strange, or uncomfortable to be around (although that was arguable), but rather in the sense that he was a bit unlike other people. It wasn’t that he was remarkably different, or had some terrible crime stored under lock and key in the basement of his thoughts. He didn’t even have a superpower to show off. He was painfully average in many aspects, really. What made him peculiar, however, was something that most would agree should be kept under lock and key. Kyungsoo, over time, had also come to agree to this notion. He had come to the conclusion that, perhaps, people needed normalcy to assure themselves that they themselves were not-strange. And although Do Kyungsoo had learned to accept his quirks, or rather, quirk, many hadn’t. Couldn’t.
Do Kyungsoo could, regrettably, see ghosts.
It wasn’t something he had intended to pick up the ability for. In fact, once he’d realized it’d been picked up at all, the first thought that came to mind was how to put it down as soon as possible. Ghosts were not enjoyable to see. It had been especially shocking when he’d first woken up on a hospital bed with his six-sense of sorts, just to see the face of a man who’d had a serious accident involving a sharp stick staring at him from less than a foot away. This had caused a less-than-pleasant reaction from himself and about half of the nursing staff at the hospital. It didn’t take long to realize he was the only one who saw these gory figures, and although he had come to accept it, the shock had never completely worn off, even after years of adjustment time. This was one of the reasons, Kyungsoo assumed, that he didn’t have many friends. If he himself couldn’t adjust, it would be quite difficult for anyone else to.
Waking up to a world filled with an entirely new population all vying for his attention had resulted in some very bothersome modifications to his daily life.
The first issue had been finding a suitable place to live. There wasn’t much money left in his bank account after the unplanned and painfully prolonged hospital visit, which left a house out of the question. Apartments seemed to be a better suggestion, and adding a roommate on top left Kyungsoo’s money problem in the dirt. Unfortunately, it was quickly discovered that his midnight scream sessions were not widely appreciated. The first roommate had lasted two weeks, the second disappearing by the morning of the fifth day. Kyungsoo couldn’t even allow himself to blame them, he would’ve ditched by the end of the first night. In the end, he had settled with the cheapest room he could find, one on the roof of a ratty old apartment building. It wasn’t perfect, but it was one of the only places Kyungsoo could find where the occupants he encountered were consistently opaque. He had signed the contract the day he found it and forced himself to call it home.
Finding himself a job had proven itself to be a slightly more difficult task. A resume stating that he was a high school graduate and knew how to use a computer was all he had as backup, and although it landed him a few jobs, none seemed to fit quite right. The first had been as a waiter in a rundown restaurant, where qualifications were as good as nonexistent. He’d lasted less than a week, getting fired after breaking over half the dishes in the place. In his defense, it was extremely difficult to hold a platter of six plates with one hand while simultaneously avoiding a man missing half his body. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when he was told to leave, and Kyungsoo had already gone to another interview the day before in preparation. The second had been in a movie theater, which Kyungsoo should’ve known would end badly. The first day on the job he’d walked into a seemingly empty theater only to see every seat filled with less than friendly customers. He had resigned hours later.
After the amount of times he’d been fired had reached the double digits, Kyungsoo was hit with a stroke of luck. The apartment he’d moved into a few months prior had had an employee suddenly quit, opening a position that required zero human interaction. Apparently it wasn’t the most popular job on earth, considering they’d hired kyungsoo before he’d even submitted a resume. Within an hour of mentioning that he’d love to hear more about the opening, the landlord had shoved trash bag, trash pick up things, and a flashlight in Kyungsoo’s hands and was telling him to get his butt over to room 301, someone had just moved out.
Life when considerably smooth after that, at least in comparison to how rough it had been before. The job was steady enough, and the pay allowed him to keep the housing plus a few extra dollars to keep himself fed. It wasn’t the most glamorous life, but for a boy who could see dead people it was the best it was gonna get.
“Kyungsoo!” screeched a familiar voice from down the stairs. “Clean up in 401!”
Kyungsoo’s nails dug into his palms as he processed the directions. It was the fifth time that year that the said apartment had been vacated. He, of course, as the sole caretaker of the building, repeatedly had to bring it back to it’s usual state after occupants left the rooms looking like a mix of a crime scene and a high school rave. He knew what was in there; he’d known for quite a while. Luckily, the last few times those words had been shouted at him it was when the sun was beating down upon the building and not a corner or cobweb of the room was unlit. Daytime didn’t make the ghosts invisible, not by a long shot, but it’s much easier to run for your life when you can see more than ten feet in front of you.
This time, however, he hadn’t gotten so lucky.
The ominous tick ticking of a wall clock a few feet away threw Kyungsoo into a sort of trance, thoughts about what he was about to face gnawing at his nerves and pushing him further and further away from the door. He had a quick intake of breath when the tick lined up perfectly with a loud crashing noise from outside, and shut his eyes as tight as they could go. He couldn’t do this.
“Kyungsoo! Get down here!”
Kyungsoo slowed his breathing, taking long, drawn out inhales and exhaling through his nose. He couldn’t lose this job. He couldn’t lose this job, but at the same time he really couldn’t do this. His nails began to draw blood.
“Do Kyungsoo! If that room is not clean within the next ten minutes I swear to god you will face consequences!”
Okay. Maybe he could do this.
Kyungsoo forced himself through the door of his rooftop room, immediately greeted with an icy breeze and spikes of cold water stabbing at his face. Thunder crashed a second time in the distance, and wow, he could not do this.
A shiver ran from the split-ends of his overgrown hair down to the tips of his toes as he stood in the storm, barely willing his feet to move toward the stairs. After a laughable amount of effort he was down the first flight and it didn’t seem too bad anymore. The plastic illumination of artificial light flooded the halls of the building, and if not for the pounding of rain against the roof and wind grabbing the windows with both hands and shaking as hard as it could, this wouldn’t be so bad. But alas.
Kyungsoo finally reached the ground floor, meeting his boss’ eyes with a slight grimace. He knew how he looked; a baggy pair of sweatpants completely soaked through with rain and a black t-shirt that nearly reached his knees, just as damp as the former. His eye bags were probably down to his cheeks by now, and his unwashed hair was long enough to poke at his eyes.
“Goodness, look at you,” His boss said with a shake of her head. She was a nice lady, a middle-aged unmarried women whose only care in life was whether you paid her rent or not. She had two moods when she was around Kyungsoo, he’d noticed. He was either the son she’d always wanted or the equivalent to a bag of potatoes that refused to do the work it was being paid for. More often than not she chose the latter.
She grabbed a towel off a nearby shelf, handing it to kyungsoo before popping back into her office to grab something else. Kyungsoo absentmindedly started drying his hair lightly with the towel, rubbing around his ears while he waited for her to return. He was almost shocked that she didn’t have the supplies out yet considering how long ago she’d called him down.
Moments later she came back into sight, now with a trash bag and a spray bottle in hand. A displeased expression crossed her face when she saw him though, and he immediately stopped all movement.
“Really, Kyungsoo, you’d think a smart boy would know me by now,” She said with a semblance of a smile, snatching the towel out of Kyungsoo’s hand and tying it in a loose knot around the spray bottle she’d brought out moments earlier. He faked a small chuckle, already wanting to run right back up the stairs and just sacrifice himself to the rain.
“Be right back,” He replied in what he hoped was a somewhat not-dead sounding tone, as he was often accused of using. Apparently he was successful, judging by the cheerful nod she replied with.
Kyungsoo started down the hall, flinching slightly whenever a light would flicker. The pounding outside had not calmed in the least, and now it was beginning to sound less like thumbtacks hitting the roof and more like hammers. The banging of thunder was enough to keep him alert though, as if the threat of a dead person popping up in front of him wasn’t enough already. Kyungsoo sighed.
He found the room soon enough, having been there multiple times in the past already. He turned the doorknob slowly, knowing what to expect yet at the same time being completely clueless as to whether anything was even in the room. He pushed himself forward into the darkness, blindly patting the wall until he found a light switch. He flipped it on immediately, only then daring to leave the doorway.
Kyungsoo took cautious steps forward, eyes darting around the scan the room corner to corner. Thus far the only immediate threat he’d seen had been the half rotted banana thrown on the floor, but he wasn’t letting his guard down until he was back in his apartment under a thick layer of blankets. He stretched out a cautious hand toward an empty chip bag laying a few feet from him, nearly flinching when his grip resulted in the bag making a loud crunch. Kyungsoo immediately straightened out his posture and scanned his surroundings a second time before creeping toward the next piece of trash. It was when he lowered his eyes a second time when everything he had been hoping wouldn’t happen decided to screw his day up.
The first sign something was wrong came blaring, loud and flashing red when the dim light of the room flickered out into black. Kyungsoo immediately crouched down, hands clutching onto the trash bag like a lifeline. He kept his eyes peeled as he slowly backed up toward the cracked open door. He nearly let out the suffocating breath he couldn’t help holding when the panic upped itself a level.
A dim light had appeared in the far right corner of the room, barely there but un-ignorable. It gave off a bluish tint, and looking toward it made you wonder if your eyesight was going bad. The form was blurred, somehow, in comparison to it’s surrounding. Kyungsoo’s heart was half up his throat when he spotted it, knowing perfectly well what was crouching before him. Now as long as he could get out, into a lit hallway before it looked up and-
“Stay away!” Kyungsoo screamed, covering his eyes to avoid the face that was now less than a foot away. He could feel the cold it emanated, and his throat began to seize up as he blindly moved in a direction that he hoped to god was away. The...being, if you could call it that, had a face that looked terrifyingly eaten up by decay, to a point where it’s gender was unrecognizable. Kyungsoo was wheezing out breaths, and when he was finally out of the doorway and into the hall he immediately broke into a full sprint. He came into the lobby within seconds and ignored the worried look his landlord was shooting at him. He tossed the trash bag in her general direction before shooting up the stairs, four flights nearly burning a hole in his lungs as he struggled to get to the top. Halfway up, lights began blinking out, the loud snap of electricity failing sending chills down his back. The streak of movement out of the corner of his eye was unmistakable, and Kyungsoo somehow found the energy to speed up. He reached the doorway to the roof soon enough, and was back out under sheets of rain tugging at the handle of his door right after. He risked a glance behind him, and saw the beginnings of a figure materialize through the doorway down to the stairs. He gulped, nearly yelling in victory when the door creaked open and throwing himself inside his safe haven.
Kyungsoo slammed his hand down on the light switch, turning his back to the door and slumping down against it. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to push back the panic attack that was gripping him. He had considerably slowed down his heartbeat when he decided to open his eyes again, and decided it would be smart to go get some bandages for the bloodied palms that had resulted from the experience. Counting to three before opening his eyes seemed like the best choice, needing to convince himself thoroughly that he was alone in his small home before any movement was made.
He cracked his left eye open first, then immediately sucked in a breath and shut it again. She was inside.
“Ma’am, i’m not doing it. you will not convince me to do it. Please leave, hm? I won’t disturb you again. I promise. Hm?” Kyungsoo croaked out in what he hoped was a convincing voice. Years of experience with this ability had taught him one thing if nothing else; ghosts can, on occasion, be reasonable. He’d had to use this tactic a few times before, when one was too persistent to stay away for more than a second.
When no reply was heard, he cracked open his right eye. The woman (it was obvious now) had abandoned the form she’d been in before, now taking shape of her body when she had died. It was an old woman, deep lines and wrinkles etched in her face proving the long life she’d lived. Her expression was one of misery and desperation, one that kyungsoo was quite familiar with. It was difficult to find a disembodied spirit stuck on earth with anything but that expression, really.
He fully looked at her now, though still leaning back as far as possible. She was much less terrifying when she wasn’t so...dead.
He glanced over the dirty clothes she wore, stained with sauce and oil. Her hair was neatly tied back on her head, completely free of knots. The transparent plastic gloves stretched over her hands were the final deciding factor; this woman was a worker at the convenience store down the street, the only place Kyungsoo went outside of the apartment complex and his brother’s shop. When her cracked, dry voice echoed softly in his ears he nearly cried, never having got over the part when dead people spoke to him.
“I won’t. I- I know why you’re here, ma’am. I won’t, you hear me?” He said shakily, shivering violently.
His breath froze halfway in his mouth when she reached out a hand, old and wrinkled and distinctly transparent. It hovered in the air for a few seconds before settling lightly on Kyungsoo’s shoulder, the cold temperature seeping through his already soaked clothes and making his skin feel like solid ice.
“I- I- I w- won’t! You h- hear me? No!”
The lady smiled.
♦️ ♦️ ♦️
“Sir, I’m sure if you look over the contract just once more then you’ll see-”
“Are you deaf?” the man interrupted him, not for the first time either. “I told you my answer months ago, then again last week, and even now, yet you don’t seem to speak the same language! I will not sell this house to you. Not now, not ever. Not for a million dollars, do you understand yet?”
Jongin’s eye twitched slightly, his hands curling up into loose fists. “I really can’t understand, sir. With the amount we’re offering you, you could buy a much larger house, perhaps help your children pay for school-”
“Listen here,” he said, and Jongin was really getting sick of being cut off, “It isn’t like I haven’t considered your offer. I’d be crazy not to. But it’s my wife, she doesn’t want me to. You understand?”
“Sir...If I’m not mistaken, your wife is deceased, is she not?” Jongin replied. He fought hard to keep a pleasant smile on his face.
“Yes, you’re right but...” he trailed off as he looked to a spot behind Jongin’s head, a wistful expression blanketing his features. “See that rose? The white one there, in the pot.”
Jongin turned around with a raised eyebrow, easily locating the bloomed flower the man was referring to. He nodded, waiting for the man to continue. This better be good.
“When my wife was still with me, she planted that rose there and tended to it daily. She never got to see it grow to more than a bud, but after her passing, it had bloomed into a beautiful flower. I had never watered it, or cut dead leaves off, yet it stayed the way it was. I thought it as a form of...what was left of her, I suppose.”
“And this relates to our deal how exactly?” Jongin was getting impatient.
“I was getting to that,” he snapped, shooting a glare. “When I started to seriously consider accepting the deal, the rose begin to wilt rapidly. Petals began to fall off, and even watering did nothing. But when I decided not to sell, it bloomed again, just as beautiful as it’s always been. So, you see, I just can’t sell this house. Not when it’s a decision my wife wouldn’t want.”
“I see,” Jongin said, tapping his fingers on the table, inches away from the signature-less contract. “So, if your wife agrees, you’d be happy to sell? Is that what you’re telling me?”
The man looked uncomfortable under Jongin’s gaze, averting his own eyes. “I- I suppose so, yes.”
Jongin threw his hands up with a smile. “Perfect! I’ll just talk to her myself then.” He stood up from his seat, taking measured but quick steps toward the flower pot in the corner of the room. The flower was set on top of a dresser, causing the delicate plant to be just below his shoulders in height. He bent down so he was face to fa- er, petal with it, then carefully plucked a pair of scissors off the dresser near the plant. He squinted his eyes at the flower, then nodded to himself.
“Mrs. Park, can you hear me?” He spoke loudly. “Your husband here doesn’t think you want him to sell this house to me so I can make a lovely golf course on this land. I just know you wouldn’t be so unreasonable to think that, hm?”
Jongin’s secretary watched on from the corner, one eyebrow raised and a grimace on his face.
“Alright, Mrs. Park, let’s make a deal. If you object to this, just shake your flower head for me, okay? You can do that, of course, if it’s really you. I’ll count to three, if that’s alright.”
“Mr. Kim, I really don’t think this-”
“Shh, I’m having a conversation with Mrs. Park. I mean, you are the one who told me this flower was your wife. Don’t I have the right to reason with her?” Jongin replied without turning around, slowly twirling the pair of scissors around between his fingers. He tilted his head slightly, smirk growing on his face.
“One,” his voice echoed loudly in the empty house, even with the background noise of pouring rain.
“Mr. Kim, I really-”
“Two.”
The smirk grew into a wicked smile.
“Three.”
The three heavy gazes resting on the small flower were enough to make it wilt, and although they all knew nothing would happen, curiosity got the best of them. Jongin let out an affirming hum before lifting the pair of scissors in his hand.
His secretary’s eyes widened. “Sir, I don’t think-”
Snip!
The delicate head of the flower tumbled to the ground, feather-light petals spreading across the floor. Jongin looked at the fallen plant with apathy, flicking his foot to remove a petal that had landed on one of his polished shoes. He turned back to his client with a pleasant smile pasted on his face.
“Well, that was a terribly nice conversation. Ready to sign now?”
Mr. Park discreetly wiped a tear from his cheek, hastily grabbing the pen from the table and scribbling his name on the marked line. When he looked back up, his eyes were flooded with contempt. “Take this cursed contract and leave. I never want to see your face again, you understand? Leave!”
Jongin flinched slightly at the volume of his voice, but still responded with a pleasant, albeit terribly fake, smile.
“Good doing business with you, Mr. Park.”
Jongin snapped his fingers, pleased when his secretary came over immediately with an unopened umbrella. He ended the conversation with a finalizing nod, then walked out the front door. The rain was pouring down harder than it had in months. Jongin twisted his mouth in a displeased expression, waiting for the umbrella to open above his head before he began walking.
“Well, damn, Jongin. Don’t you think that was a bit much?” His companion said with a chuckle. “I mean, you’re hardcore, I get it, but...cutting off his dead wife’s head? Really?”
Jongin glanced back at his secretary with an eyebrow raised. “I got him to sign, didn’t I?”
“I...I suppose so, yes. But-”
“There are no buts in business, Sehun. Did they not teach you that in school?”
“Oh, shut it,” The boy said carelessly, smiling sticking on his face.
“Oh Sehun, have a little respect. Who’s the one paying you here?”
“Ah, how could I forget. Of course I should show more respect to you Mr. Kim, or would you prefer your highness?”
Jongin just rolled his eyes and shoved Sehun with his shoulder, quickly regretting it once the rain drenched his side in a matter of seconds.
The two of them walked to the car in silence after that, only accompanied by the ropes of rain falling from the sky. Sehun opened the door to the backseat of a sleek black car, holding the umbrella over his boss as he got in. He shut the car door, sheltering himself from the rain again and walking to the driver’s seat. Windshield wipers were immediately put onto the highest setting, but even then it was hard to see very far ahead.
Sehun started the car, shaking out the wet umbrella and setting it in the passenger seat. He carefully drove away from the rundown house, the rough gravel road crunching underneath the tires as they drove off. He looked at Jongin over his shoulder, and asked if he should drive straight to his boss’ house.
“Stop at the gas station first,” was the reply, “We can refill the tank and wait for the storm to die down a bit. I don’t want my death to be caused by a twenty-year-old driving in a hurricane.”
Sehun replied with a snide comment, but nodded. They were on the main road soon enough, and there were so few cars on the road that it didn’t matter if he took the street at the speed of a snail to ensure safety. This didn’t take long to pull a snarky comment out of Jongin though, so soon after they were just under the speed limit.
“Sehun, did you make a recording of the contract yet? I think we may have to change a few-”
Jongin sentence was abruptly cut off by a screech of brakes, the car jerking to a stop and sliding a few feet on the rain slicked road. The secretary was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, eyes glued in front of him, searching the road. Jongin raised an eyebrow, choosing not to mention the bruise forming on his neck from the seatbelt that’d cut into his skin at the sudden stop.
“What happened?” He said curiously, unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning forward to follow his secretary’s line of sight. All he saw was a black expanse of road being pelted with needles of water. He squinted at the sight, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing stuck out.
“I- I saw...something. A person, I think, but so...dead looking. I swore I’d seen a ghost.” Sehun’s voice was worryingly unsteady, but Jongin brushed it off as childish fear and waved a hand.
“Well, it clearly floated away to do whatever ghostly activities were on the agenda tonight. Get going, would you?” Jongin sneered, leaning back again and pulling his seat belt back around. Sehun had found his breath and just regained the color in his face when they heard a quiet but unmistakable knock against the backseat window. Both men froze.
“Crap, Jongin, if I die tonight-”
Jongin’s eyes widened as the handle of the car door began to move, this...being, if you could call it that, making it’s way inside with no hesitation. He gulped, turning to the driver.
“Go, Sehun. Now!”
The words were seconds too late.
The door opened slowly, a head peeking around the edge to look at the interior. Jongin was pushing himself as far against the opposite wall as possible; Sehun was about to faint. The older stared at the...boy? It seemed to be a boy. He took careful note of the soaking black hair covering half his face, the scratches painted across his knuckles, the cracked dry lips that seemed to be the only visible part of his face. He wasn’t transparent, so that knocked ghost off the list. He had no umbrella, just a dilapidated bag. Jongin sighed, tense posture relaxing.
“We aren’t offering a ride or a house,” The brunette said resolutely. He crossed his arms. “Let me guess, ran away from home, can’t take the amount of homework your bio teacher is giving you, want to start a new life...look elsewhere, kid.”
The boy didn’t leave, but it did stall him for a few seconds. It wasn’t long before those incredibly pale fingers tightened on the side of the door, pulling it further open and granting himself access. He plopped down on the clean leather seat, pulling back the black hood that was completely soaked through, revealing wide eyes that could be beautiful if not for the deep bags planted under them. “It sure is cold out there!” He spoke loudly, as if with friends. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about...” He directed toward Jongin, then at the driver, “But I appreciate you stopping. She did tell me you’d come, but I’ve learned to be a bit wary when believing them these days. Is this car headed to Seoul?”
Sehun nodded silently, still keeping a death grip on the steering wheel. Jongin just stared.
“Wonderful!” The stranger said with a wide smile. He removed his jacket completely, squeezing out some of the excess water outside. It didn’t work very well, considering the water getting squeezed out was being replaced just as quickly by the water still falling. Sehun watched from his rear view mirror, waiting until the door was closed to start the car.
He made eye contact with Jongin in the mirror before beginning to drive, who just gave him an incredulous look coupled with a disgusted expression. It was clear he was mourning for his leather seats. Sehun took this as the go signal, and pressed the gas.
♦️ ♦️ ♦️
Kyungsoo quietly hummed as he watched the black night fly by through the window. His fingers dug into the damp material of his hoodie, which he desperately wished would dry already; he was freezing. He’d originally come with an umbrella, a polka-dot black and blue one that he’d bought from the dollar store a few weeks prior. It’d held up fairly well, but in this weather even a solid metal umbrella would’ve been blown out of his hands. He had no one to blame but mother nature.
Turning toward the other passenger of the car, Kyungsoo squinted his eyes. This man had mistaken him as a high schooler, it seemed. He wasn’t sure if this was to be taken as a compliment or an insult. He’d always looked young for his age, it wasn’t news, but the last time he’d been mistaken as that young was before the accident.
He decided to take it as a compliment.
Kyungsoo analyzed the man; from the tips of his perfectly styled, slightly damp brown hair, down to the stiff creases in the pants of his suit. He was facing away, looking out the window, but he seemed to be around Kyungsoo’s age, who himself was only twenty-five. Judging from his exterior though, life had given him many more opportunities. He exuded an aura of confidence, one that made everyone around him feel inferior from just a glance.
He must have a fancy job, Kyungsoo thought to himself. One that allows him to wear suits with nice creases.
The sopping wet boy glanced around the seats, looking for a business card or logo somewhere. It didn’t take long, a contract sitting in between them on the seats. It was in a folder, the name of the company just barely concealed. Kyungsoo glanced up at the intimidating man once more, who was staring out the window. He smiled in his head, and reached a single finger out to slide the paper out of its covering. He’d just touched it when another hand snatched his in a crushing grip.
“What do you think you’re doing right now?” The voice connected to the hand spoke, menacing enough to make Kyungsoo jerk his own away. He glanced up, making eye contact with the fancy man, and oh.
Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, breath sticking in his throat. Dear God. Or shall he say, dear fancy man in a suit. Because they seemed pretty close at the moment. What kind of marble statue-human hybrid...
“I, uh,” Kyungsoo cleared his throat, “I was checking to see where you worked. Curious, that's all.”
The man stared him down, aggravation painted across his features. He released Kyungsoo’s hand after a few moments, wiping his own hand across his neatly pressed pants as if to clean it.
The soaking boy sat silently after that, just staring wistfully out the window. He rarely took car rides. Getting a license had been impossible after he’d been released from the hospital, a ghoul popping up in front of him in the middle of the freeway being much too likely for his comfort. He stuck with taxi’s for a while, but it’d gotten a bit tiring dealing with the horrified expressions the drivers made when he had a panic attack in the backseat due to an unfriendly passenger being a bit too chatty. It wasn’t like he really needed the motor transportation anyway, when his job was located in the same building he lived in and any necessary store was within a walking distance.
It seemed like seconds later when the car slowed to a stop, the tapping of raindrops against the windshield halting. Kyungsoo leaned sideways to peek at the driver, who seemed to be getting out. He quickly realized they’d stopped at a gas station, and decided to take a stretch break himself.
He slipped back on his damp jacket, stuffing his hands into wet pockets as he walked up next to the young blond man, who seemed considerably nicer than the other occupant of the car. The driver was filling the tank, facing away from Kyungsoo when he approached. It gave the latter a chance to observe him, to affirm that he was less intimidating than Mr. Creased Pants.
The man was tall, considerably taller than Kyungsoo, and also dressed in a suit. He seemed less like a marble statue though and more like a precisely carved piece of angel food cake that smelled like sugar and fresh laundry. Kyungsoo relaxed slightly, and tapped the man on his shoulder. He turned around immediately, flinching slightly. He obviously had not known anyone was behind him.
“Thank you for driving me home tonight,” Kyungsoo said quietly, bowing slightly. “The walk down there was very long, and I wouldn’t prefer to repeat that so late at night. I wish I had something to repay you with, but...” He trailed off, his one room apartment and closet of about five different shirts coming to mind.
“Oh no, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll admit that I was a bit scared of you for a while there. I thought I’d run into a ghost!”
Kyungsoo faked a smile.
“Mr. Kim’s own home is also in Seoul though, so it’s on our way. No need to feel guilty, Mr...”
“Do. Do Kyungsoo.”
“Kyungsoo. Really, don’t feel so bad. Don’t ask Jongin about repayment though, he’ll ask for a couple hundred dollars at bare minimum just for letting you sit in the car,” The blond man said with a chuckle. “I’m Sehun, by the way. Mr. Kim’s secretary.”
“Nice to meet you, Sehun,” Kyungsoo said with a small smile. He rarely met new people, much less became acquaintances with them. He hoped Sehun couldn’t tell how much the interaction was spiking his heartbeat. He hid one hand behind his back, crossing his fingers in hope that he wouldn’t screw this up. It was rare to meet someone new, but it was nearly unheard of for him to actually befriend someone.
They stayed at the gas station for a while, chatting about useless topics like weather and favorite tv shows until the rain became less forceful. Sehun joked that they should watch out for vampires and ghosts, considering it was quite literally a dark and stormy night. Kyungsoo forced a chuckle.
Once the conversation faded into silence, he found entertainment in shamelessly staring at their third companion who was still in the car clutching a half empty paper cup of gas station coffee. His hair still somehow looked good after being mercilessly blown around the second he’d stepped out of the car, strands seamlessly falling back into place as if programmed. His expression was considerably less charming, settling somewhere between irritated and constipated.
Kyungsoo glanced at Sehun, who was also holding a paper cup (although his was still full) and staring into the rain, expression blank enough to hide whatever was going on inside his head. Kyungsoo contemplated getting his attention by nudging him with his shoulder.
Would that be awkward? he thought to himself. We probably aren’t close enough for that. What is he gets creeped out and ditches me here?
He snuck another glance at the tall man, face still unreadable.
Maybe this will, like, confirm the friendship. What if he decides I’m too unfriendly and never speaks to me again? No, I should do it. Just do it, Soo. Come on.
He crept closer, side-stepping until they were less than a foot from each other. Clenching his fists, Kyungsoo slowly moved even closer, stretching his shoulder out to just-
“You okay there?” Sehun said suddenly, now staring straight at him.
Crap.
“Um. Uh, yeah. Just. Yeah,” Kyungsoo attempted to reply, embarrassed blush burning across his face. He took a large step away from the other, folding his hands behind his back. He glanced back in the direction of the car.
“Who’s that,” He said flatly, not yet recovered.
Sehun smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Jongin?”
“Um. Yes, Jongin.”
“Who is Jongin,” Sehun said thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “Well, he’s the president of Star Mall, to start.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. The mall was right by his apartment, merely around the block. “Beyond that...he’s a strange one. I became his secretary a few years ago, fresh out of business school. For the first few months I was absolutely terrified of the man, thought he’d bite my head off if I put an extra grain of sugar in his coffee one day,” Sehun bit his lip to hide his smile, squinting at the car. “It’s strange thinking of it now. A few months in I remember sitting in the car with him and getting a phone call, from one of my close friends. I’d set that particular friend’s ringtone to the theme song of Pokemon, right? So like, my phone goes off, and the song just blasts through the car. I nearly had a heart attack, I swear. Though I’d be fired before I could even answer the call. I mean, wouldn’t you think so?”
Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if that was rhetorical, but nodded anyway.
“Well, that was the day Kim Jongin revealed himself to be a total nerd. I swear, the way his face lit up when my phone rang...I was so frickin’ confused. Turns out he’s not a total ass, just has perpetually terrible days that put him in a mood that makes all living things want to be at least ten feet away at all times. He has this complex about a thing that happened in his past though, so that might contribute a bit. But really, he’s so harmless. A thirty year old body occupied by a moody teenager who likes anime and video games with a strangely high amount of knowledge on business. That is Kim Jongin. A weird nerd who has a habit of pissing people off. With way too much money for his own good.”
“Are you allowed to talk about your boss that way?” Kyungsoo asked, looking scandalized. He couldn’t stop glancing at the car, worried that the man in question could somehow hear them. “I would feel horrible if you lost your job because of a question. Although...” Kyungsoo leaned closer, covering his mouth with one hand and lowering his voice to a whisper. “He does sound like a little bit of a weirdo.”
Sehun nodded thoughtfully, pressing his lips together and closing his eyes.
The conversation lapsed back into silence after that, Sehun taking slow sips of his coffee while Kyungsoo shivered in his damp clothes, the latter still sneaking glances toward the man in the car. Jongin, he reminded himself. A weirdo with a godly face and lots of money, Kim Jongin. Hm.
Not much time passed before Sehun had finished his drink and Kyungsoo was on the verge of freezing. The rain had lessened its force, now falling at a more moderate rate. Sehun tossed his paper cup in a trash can, rubbing his hands together for warmth before turning back toward Kyungsoo.
“So, I wasn’t going to ask,” Sehun started slowly, “But what exactly were you doing outside in the pouring rain? At...” he glanced at his watch, “nine pm, to add. I mean, you seem harmless enough, but I’d kinda like to know if I just gave a ride to a runaway convict or something. No offense though, like I’m not saying you look like a criminal, just...”
“Ah, of course,” Kyungsoo replied, wringing his hands together. He contemplated how to reply; the truth would just sound like a complete lie, probably landing him in jail (it wouldn’t be the first time), and telling an actual lie would undoubtedly backfire in some way. “I, um,” he stuttered, hoping the backfire wouldn’t be too bad, “I was visiting my, uh, grandma. And I stayed a bit too late, so...there weren’t any taxis. So I needed a ride, and all,” Kyungsoo relaxed as the story shifted into truth. “No one stopped for a while. I was so relieved when your car slowed down, you have no idea...” He trailed off, wiping his palms on his pants.
Sehun looked slightly doubtful, but nodded none the less. “Well, hop in, let’s get you home,” He said, not mentioning that the taxis don’t stop running until midnight.
The drive back to Seoul was near dead silent, the only exchange of words being Kyungsoo telling Sehun his address and Jongin complaining that he, with a glare directed at Kyungsoo, “had work to do”, then proceeding to glance at his watch every thirty seconds or so.
They pulled up to the apartment building slowly, Sehun glancing unsurely back at Kyungsoo before coming to a stop. The place was a bit...run down, admittedly, but Kyungsoo called it home.
“Thank you so much for the ride, Sehun,” Kyungsoo said cheerily, wringing his hands together. He ignored the look Jongin gave him when he used Sehun’s first name. “I’ll, um, see you around?”
Sehun nodded, and Kyungsoo finally took off his seatbelt. He wasn’t used to being around people, socializing with people, and it was almost a shame for it to be over.
“Bye then,” Kyungsoo said while opening the door. He paused, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Kim.”
Mentioned man just scoffed, turning back toward the window.
Kyungsoo climbed out of the car, shivering when the night air touched his still-damp skin. The rain had stopped mostly, the only remains of its attack being a barely noticeable drizzle. He shook off the shivers that threatened to climb up his skin, balling up the too-long sleeves of his jacket in his hands. It was a bit of a relief to be home, considering it was almost ten. Being out after dark never ended very well. He had just shut the door to the vehicle and heard the engine start up when his generally awful night became just straight up horrendous.
Kyungsoo’s whole body froze as he made eye contact with the boy in front of him. This particular ghost wasn’t a stranger, not even close, Kyungsoo might even go as far as to call him an acquaintance. He was the absolute worst kind of acquaintance, however, the kind that only came out in the dead of night and refused to move more than a foot away from Kyungsoo until the sun rose, leaving the victim no way out. He was especially terrifying to look at too, death from a car accident leaving an array of bloodied wounds across his face and about a third of his left arm remaining. Out of all the repeat encounters Kyungsoo had experienced with the dead, Mr. Night Owl (as he’d so graciously nicknamed him) was undoubtedly the most dreaded.
Kyungsoo broke eye contact after a tense few seconds, desperately looking back toward the black car that took him here. Sehun was still in the parking lot, struggling to make a tight enough u-turn to get off the narrow property and back onto the road. Kyungsoo held a mental funeral for the budding friendship he had with the driver and ran like a madman toward the car.
♦️ ♦️ ♦️
“Finally,” Jongin said with a sigh the second the door to the car was shut. Sehun rolled his eyes, but didn’t reply. “It’s not just me right?” He continued anyway, meeting the driver’s eyes through the rearview mirror. “He’s creepy. Like, not even just the dark clothes and standing in the middle of the road in the middle of a rainstorm. There’s something off about that kid.”
“Kid? He’s twenty-five, Jongin!” Sehun said with a snort, ignoring formalities for the time being.
“Kid or not, he’s creepy. It’s even creepier that you already know his age. Hurry up, just being in this parking lot is freaking me out.”
Sehun just chuckled and began to pull out, trying his best to avoid running over the curbs that seemed to be inches away from all sides of the car. He turned the wheel all the way to the right, backed up a couple feet, straightened it out, backed up a couple feet, turned it to the left...it went on and on. They had finally gotten to the road when a familiar banging against the passenger window interrupted them.
“Oh, my god,” Jongin groaned, putting his head in his hands. Sehun looked out the window to find their previous passenger, eyes wide and body shaking. He immediately scrambled to press the unlock button on his door, a bit overwhelmed at the relief on Kyungsoo’s face when the door opened. He quickly climbed in, eyes shut tight and hands scrambling to put on the seat belt. Sehun tapped his arm, hoping to ask what exactly was going on and whether he should be speeding away for his life right now, but the second he touched Kyungsoo, the drenched boy lurched back in his chair and let out a whimper.
“Um,” Sehun said quietly, “Kyungsoo? Did I take you to the wrong place?”
Kyungsoo took a few visibly deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, just...” He cracked open one eye, trailing off.
Sehun furrowed his eyebrows. “Kyungsoo? Is something wrong?”
He sat completely frozen, not even breathing, both eyes wide open. Even Jongin, who wished more than anything this stranger would just leave, was concerned. He leaned forward in his seat, resting a hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder from behind. Kyungsoo let out a breath at the motion, and blinked at nothing a few times. Nobody said a word.
Jongin, thinking he must have recovered, began to pull his hand back.
“Stop!” Kyungsoo yelped, grabbing Jongin’s hand with his own. Jongin was simultaneously dumbfounded and impressed at how strong the small framed boy was. He couldn’t pull his hand back if he tried. “Let me just...” Kyungsoo continued, finishing his sentence with his actions. He slowly released Jongin’s hand, finger by finger, and then after a quick inhale during the split second of separation grabbed on tight again. “Okay. This is...” He mumbled to himself. Sehun gave him an unreturned questioning stare. Jongin just sat, waiting for his hand to be released.
“Could I ask one more favor?” Kyungsoo said quietly, turning to Sehun. The blond unsurely nodded, not sure what he was getting himself into. “Could I crash at your place for a night?”
Sehun sputtered, not sure how to answer. “I mean, I suppose...” He paused mid-sentence when he realized the stranger’s eyes were not on him, but his boss. “Uh, Kyungsoo?”
“I would explain and all but it would make me sound insane,” The brunette reasoned, alternating glances between the two, “And I’m not in the mood for a jail visit. I swear, if it wasn’t completely necessary I wouldn’t have even come in the car. Just...” He turned back to Jongin, “Please, just one night.”
Jongin tugged his hand back, pleased when it came loose. He ignored the way Kyungsoo’s eyes immediately shut upon the loss of contact. “I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not that easy. Don’t try to fake your way out of this, I know Sehun told you I’m rich. So what are you trying to do here, do you hope to seduce me somehow and steal all my money to get out of this rundown apartment building? You just made Sehun drive you here so I could see and feel bad, then say yes to this ridiculous proposal, am I right?”
Kyungsoo, eyes still shut tight, rapidly shook his head. “No! Of course not! I’m perfectly happy with my financial situation, for your information. I just...”
Jongin raised an eyebrow. “Yes? You ‘just’ what?”
“I...”
“That’s what I thought. Shoo now, I’m not giving you any money.”
Sehun looked at the pathetically shaking boy again, and glared at his boss. “Come on, have a heart here, Jongin.”
“No, no, I understand,” Kyungsoo whispered, now holding both hands over his eyes rather than keeping them squeezed closed. “A night is too much to ask. Can I just...stay in the car a bit longer?” He turned to Sehun again, turning his whole body so the driver could understand it was directed at him without eye contact. “You can bring me back after dropping Jo-...er, Mr. Kim off. That’s all I’m asking.”
Sehun raised a questioning brow at Jongin, who begrudgingly nodded after a few moments. “Uh, alright then. Buckle up”
Kyungsoo scrambled into the backseat, doing a strange sort of wiggle due to the limited movement of his hands (they were still being used to cover his eyes) that earned him the noise of a throat being cleared to cover up a chuckle. Once settled in the back, the same seat he’d been in on the drive over, Kyungsoo flung one hand out to grab onto Jongin and used the other to pull down his seatbelt, struggling to buckle it with one hand. Once buckled, he grabbed onto the brunette with his other hand too, one hand gripping the brunette’s fingers and the other his wrist. Only then did he open his eyes with a smile.
“I’m buckled in, Sehun. You can drive,” Kyungsoo said with a strain in his voice, trying to counter the struggle Jongin was putting up against him. The driver answered by starting up the engine, giving his boss a smug smile and turning onto the street.
-
“Is he asleep?”
“I don’t know. Poke him or something.”
“He’s on your shoulder, Jongin. Why don’t you poke him?”
“And get infected?”
“Oh my god.”
Sehun unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into the backseat, shaking their passenger’s shoulder lightly. “Kyungsoo? We’re at Jongin’s home, you need to release him.”
Jongin scowled at the giant smile on his secretary’s face.
“Well, he isn’t waking up,” Sehun continued with fake concern, “Guess you’ll have to grant his wish. Get outta my car, Mr. boss man.”
“What?” Jongin replied, voice an octave higher than normal. “You expect me to let this-” He motioned to the boy drooling on his shoulder, “sleep in my home? He could kill me in my sleep!”
“Oh, come on, he’s harmless!”
Unconscious Kyungsoo decided on that moment to let out a graceful snore.
“Just take him home!” Jongin whined, pouting at his employee. “You can tell the landlord he got really drunk or something. Or take him to your place!”
“Can’t help you there, I live in a house that’s an eighth the size of yours,” Sehun said with mock regret. “I would take him home but...Oh! I just remembered that I have to get home immediately. My fish needs to be fed. How unfortunate.”
Jongin groaned loudly, secretly hoping the noise would wake Kyungsoo up. The boy didn’t budge, just drooled a little bit on his shoulder. His groan increased in volume.
“You’re so dramatic,” Sehun sighed, getting out of the car to help his boss. He opened the door to the backseat, choking back a laugh at the scene. Kyungsoo had scooted himself into the middle seat, and had both arms wrapped in a vice grip around Jongin’s left arm. He was in a dead sleep, head resting on the brunette’s shoulder, mouth partially open. A tiny puddle of drool was visible on Jongin’s suit.
“Heeeeelp,” Jongin whined, wiggling his constrained arm. Sehun rolled his eyes, leaning in to unwrap Kyungsoo’s arm. It took a ridiculous amount of effort and a lot of loud groans from an unconscious Kyungsoo, but eventually Jongin was free.
“Okay, I’ll support him, you hop out,” Sehun said once Kyungsoo’s head was the only thing still in contact with Jongin. Jongin looked a bit wary, but managed to maneuver his way out of the car.
The effect was instantaneous.
Kyungsoo began wailing in his sleep, breath picking up and hands flying out to grab onto something. Sehun gave him a strange look but unbuckled the flailing boy from his seat and dragged him out of the car anyway, dumping him on Jongin. The second he did so, Kyungsoo stopped moving, going back to his previously pliant state. Jongin shrugged, and Sehun just shook his head before hopping back in the car and driving off.
Jongin hoisted the soaked boy over his shoulder, thankful he was even lighter than he looked. It’s needless to say he got quite a few...looks, carrying a limp body over his shoulder into his place, but he pointedly ignored them and typed in the password to his house, holding the door open with his foot and backing up inside, nearly banging Kyungsoo’s head against the wall. It wasn’t difficult to find an empty spot to lay the boy down, considering his house was about as furnished as a furniture store. He slung the raven haired boy off his shoulder and onto one of his many couches, propping the unconscious boy’s head up on a pillow. Kyungsoo showed no signs of stirring, still in a dead sleep. Jongin sighed, patting the boy’s shoulder before reaching his arms up to stretch.
“Nooo,” Kyungsoo whined softly, voice pleading. He blindly reached out his hands, continuing to fuss and squirm. Jongin thought for a moment; he could grab on and let the other continue to sleep, or leave him be until he wakes up and avoid having an unwanted guest in his house for the night. The answer was glaringly obvious. Jongin walked into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
Even from the other room Jongin could hear the sad whimpers sounding from his guest. They progressively got louder, beginning to sound more like wailing, really, until the sounds were cut off by a loud bang, which was then followed with a groan. Jongin echoed the groan before gulping down his water and going to check on Kyungsoo.
He walked into the living room to find his guest on the ground, half wrapped in the blanket and flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water. He cleared his throat subtly, looking up, but it had no effect. “Kyungsoo,” He tried, voice at a relatively high volume, but got the same result. Sighing, Jongin walked over to the boy and kicked him lightly in the ribs, starting to suspect he still hadn’t woken up. Hands immediately latched around his ankle, winding themselves around his leg, tightening to the point of discomfort. It seemed to do the trick, though, because the boy went completely silent and still, even going so far as to snuggle up to the older’s calf. Jongin accepted his fate and plopped down on the couch, turning on the TV and leaning back, snatching the spare blanket that was slung over the top of the sofa and wrapping it around himself. And then, without meaning to, Jongin drifted into a sleep almost as dead as Kyungsoo’s.
Part 2