Chapter Text
Ga On blamed the alcohol the first time he saw Yo Han in his apartment, three months after the Live Court Show had ended.
He was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest with a single eyebrow raised as if to say: Really, Ga On?
Ga On couldn’t blame him. After all, he knew what he must look like to his…well… his former co-judge. The sunken cheeks and dark, puffy bags beneath his eyes told the story of his past months better than any words could. A crushing sense of guilt weighed over Ga On as he realized just how disappointed Yo Han would be if he could see him now. If Yo Han knew how Ga On had wasted the chances he’d been given…
The Yo Han in front of Ga On scoffed in mock humor, running a hand through his hair.
“You were supposed to change things, Ga On-ah.” He mocked, eyes cold, tilting his head to the side. “Pathetic.”
Ga On leaned back against his bed, his leg hitting one of the soju bottles on the floor beside him as he adjusted his position. Although he closed his eyes, he could still feel tears forcing their way past his eyelids, joining stale tear tracks on his cheeks.
“I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Despite his wishes, he was well aware that Yo Han wasn’t actually in front of him, that a figment of his imagination had made a shocking appearance in his reality. However, sometimes, he wondered if Yo Han really had been there. If he’d actually come to visit him.
Maybe the only reason he left was the fact that Ga On had opened his eyes, flinging an empty beer can where Yo Han had stood.
The second time Yo Han appeared, Ga On had blamed drowsiness. Nearly a week had passed since last time, and Ga On could count the number of hours he’d slept since then on his two hands.
Soft fringes falling over eyes, a crooked smile displaying otherwise nearly unnoticeable dimples.
He was wearing a checkered robe over pants, the low knot of the belt leaving more of Yo Han’s chest exposed than Ga On could reasonably be comfortable with. This time, he was standing over Ga On’s bed, looking down at him where he lay with something that might have resembled fondness, had Yo Han been anyone else. Ga On knew that smile; it was one reserved for the sympathetic audience members and the disenfranchised in front of a camera, used as a performance.
“You’re not here,” Ga On muttered, his arms too heavy to lift underneath his bed covers.
Yo Ha – Not-Yo Han leaned forward and spread his arms out in a showing motion, head lolling to the side. His smile fell, but his eyes retained a hint of amusement and an inquisitiveness that made Ga On squirm. With each second that passed, Yo Han’s face moved closer to Ga On’s, forcing the latter to push his head deeper into his pillow. It was too much.
“Naturally, I’m here, Kim Ga On.” Yo Han sounded mocking, his head now close enough that the strands of his hair moved with each of Ga On’s fleeting exhales. Despite the closeness, Ga On felt cold. Despite bringing his hands up tentatively from beneath the covers to cover his ears, Yo Han’s voice still reverberated throughout the small space Ga On called home.
“How could I ever leave you?”
It would have hurt less if Yo Han had punched him.
Because he had, Yo Han had left Ga On. And while Ga On couldn’t fault him for it, the knowledge had long since molded itself into thorns, puncturing and twisting the flesh of his heart.
Ga On was moving before he could even name the feeling of bile rising in his throat, shooting out of bed past Yo Han. He made it just in time to expel the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Luckily, the ordeal didn’t last long, Ga On’s stomach saturated with alcohol and the meager breakfast he’d had the day before. However, he kept on retching for what felt like hours.
He felt the graze of a gentle hand against his neck, pressing down, causing Ga On to subconsciously relax into the phantom touch.
“It’s okay, let it all out,” Yo Han’s voice chided from behind. Ga On figured the voice was supposed to be soothing, but it only did the opposite. With a frantic toss of his arm, Ga On whirled around, reeling to the side of the toilet. Hot tears were burning in his eyes as he looked at the crouching man before him.
“So, you like it when I choke you, but not when I touch you fondly,” Yo Han studied the hand that had grasped Ga On’s neck in apparent wonder. “Duly noted.”
Ga On felt his cheeks burn, but was too out of it to recognize the feeling of embarrassment. “It’s not ‘liking’. It’s the fact that I’m used to one of them and not the other.”
Or maybe, Ga On was simply alarmed by the fact that he liked them both so, so much. Missed both terribly. Harsh, kind, any touch, as long as it came from Yo Han.
Ga On wanted something. He needed it so much that it hurt. But he could not – would not – put words on what he wanted so desperately. He knew that it would only cause the hurt he was feeling to worsen.
For a moment, Ga On felt his lips quirk into a small, tired smile. “Why are you here, Chief?”
“Because I miss you,” the saccharine tone was enough to make Ga On want to puke again. “Do you miss me?”
Ga On looked away. “Please stop it.”
Yo Han stared blankly at Ga On’s crouching figure, a crease dimpling the skin above his eyes. “Stop what?”
“This!” Ga On tried to yell the word, but it exited his mouth weakly in the form of a tired sob. Yo Han just stared at him as if trying to decipher the very essence of Ga On’s being.
Ga On tried to gather his thoughts, looking everywhere but at the man in front of him.
“This,” he repeated weakly, “Yo Han, you– You already left.” The unspoken ‘me’ at the end hung heavily between them, with Yo Han seeming to know it nonetheless.
“You betrayed me, Ga On-ah.” The words, though harsh in nature, were spoken in such a soft tone that Ga On felt himself longing for more. He looked up at Yo Han, scrambling for purchase beside the toilet until he was close enough to–
No.
Stop it.
“I know, and I’m so sorry, I’d take it back if I could. I’d take it all back.” Ga On whispered the pleas, sounding increasingly desperate even to his own ears. His body was slightly bowed down in front of Yo Han’s, looking up at the other man through hooded eyes, a submissive position if Ga On had ever seen one. Surely this would communicate his sincerity? Surely it would be enough to please him to some degree?
Ga On felt his back go rigid at Yo Han’s sudden smile. It was a cold, blank thing, his eyes nearly looking through Ga On instead of at him. It was the smile reserved for opponents, for others. Not Ga On. Even when Yo Han had been angry, lashed out, and fixed him with a death glare, it had always held something more. Whether it had been rage or devastation, his eyes had held something.
This wasn’t Yo Han.
Ga On didn’t know whether to be grateful or saddened by fake-Yo Han’s lack of emotional range.
However, a small, treacherous part of Ga On’s brain wondered if it hadn’t also been that way in real life. Hadn’t Yo Han always been like that?
No. Ga On quickly quashed that thought, angry at himself for this near betrayal. No, it wasn’t. He hadn’t.
While Yo Han had tried to hide it, he had so many emotions, so much meaning and expression hidden in a single gesture, a single word. Ga On couldn’t equate his own bad temper with having a closer relation to his emotions, much like he couldn’t equate Yo Han’s apparent apathy with the lack of such a relation. Of all the people in his life, he was sure that Yo Han had been the one who’d once felt the most. Maybe he still did. For Ga On to imply otherwise would be to betray Yo Han once again, this time the very soul of their connection.
This wasn’t Yo Han.
Ga On backed away, leaning against the dirty tiles of his bathroom wall and quirking his mouth in a sneer. “Go away, Chief.”
Yo Han scoffed, a mean look in his eyes, “‘Chief? Weren’t we back to ‘Yo Han’ being said so sweetly just a while ago?”
Ga On never did have all that good a temper.
“Leave!” Ga On didn’t even feel the pain in his hand when he hit the ground, dashing his hope that the sudden movement would wake him from whatever nightmare he was currently stuck in. However, it did shock his tired body enough that he felt himself slump against the toilet seat, with his eyes struggling to stay open.
It’s just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
Yo Han was gone when Ga On had roused from his passed-out state mere minutes later. The only sound in the room coming from his own mangled throat in the form of repressed sobs.
Another two full weeks had passed before Yo Han visited for the third time. Worse was that Ga On found that he’d actually missed his presence, however fabricated it was. Furthermore, there was nothing to blame this time.
He knew instinctively that Yo Han’s presence was more than just an alcohol induced dream when he’d appeared the second time. Ga On was familiar with nightmares, and this, while it felt like it, was anything but.
Ga On wasn’t supposed to miss Yo Han’s shadow.
He hadn’t meant to miss him.
His lips throbbed in pain, the ice only numbing them slightly. Normally, Ga On wouldn’t ever have gone down after a single punch to the face, but he’d been pretty out of it. So much so that he’d picked a fight with a random man harassing the food-stand staffers.
Despite the pain, Ga On smiled wholeheartedly.
He felt warm.
After Yo Han had left the previous time, it hadn’t taken much for Ga On to realize that the nightmare wasn’t when Yo Han was there, but rather the absence of him.
And he was spectacularly loud in his absence.
Ga On had no idea why he found the presence of him soothing, since Yo Han only seemed to mock and berate Ga On when he appeared. Maybe it was masochism, Ga On’s inherent streak of self-punishing.
Or maybe Ga On just missed him that much.
So much that he’d take anything, even if it was cold derision.
He’d regretted letting go of Yo Han almost immediately after he’d disappeared the second time. He’d tried to drink, to stay awake longer than he should in an effort to replicate the circumstances. But Yo Han hadn’t appeared. Nothing had worked. And so, when he saw Yo Han in the mirror standing behind him, he felt relief course through his veins.
“You’re here,” the words held none of Ga On’s venom and bitterness from before he’d spotted Yo Han.
His first instinct was to turn around and hug him, but Ga On felt that a single misstep could break the illusion, and he couldn’t risk that. He needed this.
Needed him.
“You’re pleased to see me,” Yo Han tilted his head to the side, “that’s new.”
Ga On didn’t care that the words were less than sincere, nor did he care that there was nothing behind those eyes that looked right through him.
It was Yo Han.
For those seconds.
“Talk to me?” Ga On found himself asking, the tone of his voice betraying his desperation.
Yo Han turned around, walking out of the bathroom. Ga On panicked, dropping the icepack he’d been holding to his face and whirling around, searching out Yo Han’s form. He felt like all breath had been punched out of him until he could make out Yo Han’s graceful form slathered across his couch.
“About?” Yo Han met Ga On’s eyes across the room, gesturing for him to take a seat beside him.
It took Ga On a few seconds too long to realize what Yo Han was talking about, his heartbeat too loud in his head.
The throbbing in his chest and temples caused his mouth to work quicker than his head. “Anything,” he said, “anything at all.”
He knew he probably sounded ridiculous. But Ga On couldn’t bring himself to care, so long as Yo Han stayed.
And he did, for a while.
But in the end, two hours with him wasn’t enough to satiate the longing.
The fourth time Yo Han appeared and later vanished; Ga On made a decision. It was his first conscious decision in a while, and the circumstances felt more than fitting.
Ga On needed to find out how he could see Yo Han. He needed it as much as his lungs needed oxygen.
And Ga On wasn’t one to ever be dissuaded from his goals.
***
From: Ji Young Ok
To: Young Master
Sent: 11:21
Elijah even got a new chef. Stop being stubborn and eat properly.
Read: 11:25
From: Kang Yo Han
To: Nanny
Sent: 11:26
Just because Elijah is unfamiliar with the concept of privacy doesn’t mean that you should mimic her. Butt out.
Read: 11:27
Sent: 11:27
Naturally, Young Master. As soon as you stop behaving like a child, I will stop treating you as one.
Read: 11:28
Sent: 20:37
Thank you. Elijah seems much less worried.
Read: 20:37
Sent: 20:49
Bothersome…
Read: 20:50