Archive of Our Own ^beta

By Your Side, Always

Lee Sa-young stepped into the dungeon with deliberate, measured steps. The entrance loomed like a black mirror, reflecting not himself, but his thoughts — a web of calculation and caution. He had faced countless labyrinths before, but none like this. No monsters roared here, no traps awaited him. Only silence, thick and absolute, pressing against him like a living thing. Every step felt heavier than the last, not from the weight of his body, but from the invisible pull of thought, worry, and anticipation.

The walls shimmered faintly, like water catching light, but the light reflected not the present, only echoes of memory, fragmented and distorted.

This was the Dungeon of Reveries, a place that revealed the past of the one you loved most. Hunters whispered that many who entered never returned the same; some lost themselves to grief, others to obsession. Some became trapped in the memory of their beloved, unable to separate reality from past.

Lee Sa-young knew he should leave. Rationally, that was the correct choice. But rationality deserted him the moment Cha Eui-jae entered his thoughts. Cha Eui-jae — his hyung — was reckless, always jumping into danger, always testing limits without thought for consequences. Lee Sa-young’s protective instincts — and his stubborn patience — propelled him forward. He also knew that if he didn’t clear the dungeon himself, they would assign his hyung to go, and Lee Sa-young couldn’t allow that.

The air rippled around him. Walls bent, wrapping into a familiar place: the Awakened Management Bureau headquarters hallway. A figure slowly emerged, shadowed and wavering, until clarity struck:

Cha Eui-jae.

But not the man he knew now. This was Hero ‘J’, bloodied and exhausted, carrying burdens that seemed invisible yet crushing. His spear was heavy in his hands, his back bent, every motion weighted with pain, yet his eyes burned with a stubborn, relentless will.

“I can’t stop…” The voice was hoarse. “I have to keep going…”

Lee Sa-young’s chest tightened. Every fiber of him wanted to step forward, to steady his hyung, to tell him he didn’t have to bear this weight alone. His mind calculated, his logic screamed that he should observe, take notes, not interfere. Yet his heart — patient, possessive, unyielding — compelled him closer.

He watched J trudge on, step after step, exhaustion etched into every movement, yet determination blazing in his eyes. It was a past filled with pain, yet he had carried it silently, alone, without complaint. Lee Sa-young’s chest ached — not for the battles fought, but for the burdens his hyung had silently shouldered, burdens he could now witness firsthand.

His hand extended.

It passed through him.

Like mist.

He wanted to stop his hyung but he couldn't. Not because of the dungeon restriction but…

Because he was J’s only success.

He didn’t want Cha Eui-jae to sacrifice himself and keep throwing himself into danger, but he could not stop Cha Eui-jae from doing what he loved most: saving people.

So the only thing he could do was to stay by his hyung’s side, to help create a place where his hyung could breathe and run away.

The system suddenly displayed a clear notification, cold and clinical, reminding him of the dungeon report he would eventually have to file. He ignored it. His pulse raced — not from exertion, but from a desperate need to see Cha Eui-jae alive and present.

He tore the teleportation paper and returned to their apartment. His hyung had promised he would stay home today.

But the apartment was empty.

No shoes by the door. No jacket on the couch. No soft hum of Cha Eui-jae moving about. Only the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock.

Cha Eui-jae was not home.

Lee Sa-young’s jaw tightened as he pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Seo Min-gi, where is he?”

Seo Min-gi on the other side of the phone didn’t need to ask to know who Lee Sa-young meant. Only one person mattered to him like this.

“G-Guild master… I have no idea who you mean…”

“I won’t repeat myself.” Lee Sa-young’s growl made Seo Min-gi break; he confessed Cha Eui-jae’s whereabouts without hesitation.

Without waiting for details, Lee Sa-young teleported.

***

Somewhere in Bukhansan, at Hong Ye-seong’s workshop:

“Are you sure it won’t melt?” Cha Eui-jae eyed Hong Ye-seong skeptically, while carefully holding the item in his hand.

“What do you take me for? I’m the Master Artisan!” Hong Ye-seong huffed, dramatically brushing imaginary dust off his hands while Kokko hopped onto the table, pecking at scraps of metal.

Cha Eui-jae raised a brow. “I’m serious. This can’t fail.”

“It won’t fail! I’ve got pride, skill, and sheer stubbornness on my side!” Hong Ye-seong replied, striking a mock heroic pose with Kokko perched on his shoulder. “And if it melts? Well… it won’t melt, just trust me!”

Cha Eui-jae pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to groan. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible is my specialty!” Hong Ye-seong boasted, spinning around to show off a row of half-finished weapons. A hammer clanged loudly, a spark flew, and Kokko squawked in protest.

Cha Eui-jae carefully returned the item to the small box and placed it into the system inventory, silently praying Hong Ye-seong’s confidence wasn’t theatrical bravado.

He was planning to stay a little longer, confident that Lee Sa-young was still in the dungeon — until the phone on the table buzzed. Cha Eui-jae’s face went pale, a sinking feeling in his chest warning him that a huge storm would hit if he didn’t go home immediately.

“I have to go now!” Cha Eui-jae leapt to his feet, black mask in place.

“Wait! Don’t leave me here alone!” Hong Ye-seong grabbed his waist, clinging desperately. “Three more months of confinement and I’ll go mad! You can’t abandon me now!”

“You asked Jung Bin to confine you here! And now you complain?” Cha Eui-jae tried moving toward the exit.

“This is different! You said you had spare time!” Hong Ye-seong clung like a koala.

Cha Eui-jae sighed. “Because he will be here in a moment.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

Lee Sa-young’s voice cut through the yard. Arms crossed, he stood perfectly still, the chill in his gaze sharper than any blade.

Even Kokko squawked. "BAWK!"

“S-Sayoung-ah… what brings you here…?” Cha Eui-jae muttered, internally cursing Seo Min-gi for betraying his location. Hong Ye-seong slowly retreated, clutching Kokko.

“You’re asking me that?” Lee Sa-young’s smile was faint, but the chill beneath it could freeze mountains.

“I can explain! Let’s go home first!” Cha Eui-jae stepped forward, holding his gloved hand.

In an instant, they were in Lee Sa-young’s living room.

“You told me that you’d be staying home today,” Lee Sa-young stated coldly, eyes narrowing as if he had caught his hyung in a lie.

Cha Eui-jae fidgeted under the scrutiny, his usual reckless confidence failing him. “I… I thought about something, so I went to Hong Ye-seong to ask for a favor. That’s all.”

Always keeping secrets from him — Lee Sa-young could feel it like a wall between them, thin yet unyielding. No matter how close they stood, Cha Eui-jae always tucked pieces of himself away, carrying burdens he never shared. It made Lee Sa-young want to peel away every hidden layer, to uncover the truths his hyung tried to shoulder alone, to drag every secret into the open where he could guard it with his own hands.

Lee Sa-young’s jaw tightened, his patience stretched thin yet unwavering.

Without a word, Lee Sa-young slowly removed the black mask, an act he had done many times, yet it always reminded him of the first time Cha Eui-jae lifted his mask for him in the hospital room — the vulnerability he had glimpsed then, the trust silently placed in him.

Cha Eui-jae’s black eyes widened slightly, flustered under Lee Sa-young’s penetrating gaze. “I… I can explain,” he murmured, stepping forward and tentatively holding out his hand.

Lee Sa-young ignored the words and grabbed his hyung’s hand, sinking his teeth into the base of Cha Eui-jae’s ring finger — just as Cha Eui-jae had once left on him in the memorial dungeon.

Cha Eui-jae gasped, a blush immediately spreading across his cheeks. He didn’t pull away. The bite was deliberate, possessive — a claim.

“What’s that for— ” Cha Eui-jae tried to protest, but Lee Sa-young bit again, darker and more insistent this time.

“Ack— Are you a dog?” Cha Eui-jae whispered breathlessly.

After biting down firmly, Lee Sa-young drew back just enough to press his tongue against the mark. He watched his hyung closely, every flicker of expression, every shiver that passed through his frame. His tongue traced along the wound, slow and deliberate, and Cha Eui-jae’s breath hitched audibly. The older man’s fingers twitched in his grip, growing numb at the base yet oddly hypersensitive at the tips, as if every nerve had been set alight.

Lee Sa-young’s lips brushed the skin again, his tongue lingering in circles around the bite, and Cha Eui-jae trembled. His black eyes widened, his ears flushed red, and his whole body leaned as if torn between pulling away and sinking deeper into the touch.

Lee Sa-young tightened his hold, refusing to release him, gaze sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t need the sense of taste to know what this meant. He could see it all in Cha Eui-jae — the ragged breaths, the trembling hand, the way each lick sent shivers down his arm. That reaction was enough. More than enough.

“I can’t believe you,” Cha Eui-jae murmured, “…the mark won’t last long.”

“Then I’ll bite again. Every time it fades. Until it doesn’t,” Lee Sa-young replied steadily, his voice low and unwavering.

Cha Eui-jae’s ears darkened further. “…You really are patient.”

“I have to be,” Lee Sa-young said, warmth beneath his firmness. “Because you’re reckless.”

After the blood from the bite flowed naturally, Lee Sa-young carefully licked it from Cha Eui-jae’s finger, observing every subtle reaction. He then guided his hyung to the couch, pressing his face into Cha Eui-jae’s neck, nuzzling gently as if it belonged there, and holding his hand tightly. Cha Eui-jae found it endearing, thinking, ‘screw the right timing’.

From his inventory, Cha Eui-jae pulled out a small box. His fingers lingered on it for a moment, as though uncertain, before he finally opened it. Inside, nestled against dark velvet, were two rings faintly glowing, their silver edges catching the dim light. Unlike ordinary metal, they carried a subtle shimmer of enchantment — resilient, unyielding, resistant to the corrosive effect of Lee Sa-young’s poison.

Lee Sa-young’s breath caught. His usually calm, unreadable face gave way to quiet shock, his dark eyes widening as the glow reflected in them. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

“You don’t need to bite me like this anymore,” Cha Eui-jae murmured, voice softer than Lee Sa-young had ever heard it. There was no teasing, no mask, only sincerity. With steady hands, he took one ring and carefully slid it onto Lee Sa-young’s finger, as though afraid even the slightest roughness would break the moment.

Warmth bloomed in Lee Sa-young’s chest, spreading like fire beneath his skin. He had expected excuses, a half-truth, maybe even an argument to distract him. But this — this quiet act of thoughtfulness — was something he never imagined Cha Eui-jae would prepare for him. His voice came out low, unsteady.

“I… didn’t think you’d do this.”

Cha Eui-jae raised his head, meeting Lee Sa-young’s gaze directly. His black eyes were calm, unwavering, searching every line of the younger man’s face as if to commit it to memory. “You deserve more than just words,” he said quietly. “You always have.”

Something in Lee Sa-young tightened, then melted. Without hesitation, he reached for the second ring, his fingers brushing against Cha Eui-jae’s trembling hand. Slowly, deliberately, he slid it onto his hyung’s finger. It wasn’t just a completion of the gesture — it was a vow, silent yet absolute, carved deeper than any oath spoken aloud.

Cha Eui-jae’s breath hitched. A faint blush dusted his cheeks, but he didn’t look away. “The real reason I went out…” he confessed in a near-whisper, “…was to get these custom-made. Rings that wouldn’t melt under your poison. Rings that would last as long as we do.”

Lee Sa-young exhaled, a long, quiet sigh that carried all the tension of the dungeon, the fear, the ache of not being able to stop him. Relief washed through him, grounding him at last.

Without speaking, he pulled Cha Eui-jae down onto the couch with him. Their bodies fit together naturally — Lee Sa-young’s head finding its place against his hyung’s chest, Cha Eui-jae’s arm instinctively wrapping around his shoulders. The steady thump of a heartbeat echoed beneath Lee Sa-young’s ear, anchoring him, proving that his hyung was here, alive, safe.

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from Cha Eui-jae’s forehead. His fingers lingered, tracing familiar lines — the curve of his cheekbone, the softness of his hair, the faint warmth of his skin. Each touch was both careful and reverent, as if he feared this closeness might vanish if he held too tightly.

Cha Eui-jae closed his eyes at the touch, leaning subtly into it. He bent his head, pressing a gentle kiss to Lee Sa-young’s temple. No claims, no declarations — just quiet affection, a wordless promise.

“…You make me feel like home,” he whispered, voice trembling just enough for Lee Sa-young to hear the truth beneath it.

Lee Sa-young’s lips curved faintly. He nuzzled closer into the warmth of his hyung’s chest, his voice steady in contrast. “I’ll keep walking with you, no matter where you go.”

Their hands found each other naturally, fingers intertwining over the rings that now gleamed faintly in the dim apartment light. The touch was warm, steady, grounding — a simple act that carried the weight of everything they couldn’t say aloud.

When Lee Sa-young tilted his head up, their lips brushed — hesitant at first, then lingering, soft and unhurried. It wasn’t possessive, nor demanding. It was trust, devotion, and the kind of love that needed no proof beyond presence. Cha Eui-jae’s blush deepened, but he kissed back just as gently, his lips curving faintly against Lee Sa-young’s as though smiling into the contact.

The kiss deepened only enough to savor, to reassure, before they pulled apart. Their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling, the world outside ceasing to matter.

They stayed like that for hours, wrapped in the quiet sanctuary of each other’s arms. The chaos of dungeons, the burdens of saving others, the shadows of the past — all faded away in the stillness of the moment.

The rings glimmered softly under the dim light, not as chains, not as claims, but as promises — symbols of patience, of love, of a bond unshaken by poison, danger, or time.

And for the first time since stepping into the dungeon, Lee Sa-young felt his hyung safe, alive, and wholly his — not because he was claimed, but because he had chosen to stay.