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Love is a… complicated thing. It gives and takes, comes and goes, soothes and hurts. It’s something that so many crave in different capacities—among family, friends, and lovers. Not many get the chance to experience all the ways of love and its nuances. It’s a fickle thing, with no promise of forever, leaving behind invisible scars and tears for what could have been.
Or at least, that’s how Lim Ryung-gu sees it.
Love didn’t use to be complicated. It used to be simple and unconditional, a comforting blanket of warmth and reassurance upon his return home from being bullied for who he was and who they claimed he came from. It used to be gentle hands and a softer voice that accompanied a worried gaze that roamed over his body looking for any injuries, wrapping them up carefully as if the slightest wrong move would harm him further.
It used to be words of regret following a flash of lightning that illuminated not only his mother but his new perspective of the world. It used to be sounds of anguish wrapped in words of desperation, pleas for reality to be changed, for times to become simple again.
After witnessing his mother’s death, Ryung-gu found himself to be a shell of a person. He wondered if he was worthy of loving another after all the pain he caused his mother. He wondered if he even deserves to ever find solace in the warm, caring embrace of another.
He often thinks that no, he doesn’t.
Love may be patient and kind for some, but for others, it’s jaded and remorseful.
He wonders if he’s forgotten what love truly is, but when he thinks about trying to rediscover it, he shies away from the idea.
No, it’s best not to go down that path again. If not for his sake, then for the sake of others.
And so, Ryung-gu admires love from afar when he goes to look through the years for any signs of his mother’s reincarnation, wanting so desperately for her to finally get the life she deserves. He knows that, even when he does find her, he’ll have to deal with the grief that comes with the finality of the situation—that she won’t remember him, and to her, he’s just another stranger on the street.
But, if his pain means she can rest easy in the Land of the Living, he’ll give up his comfort in a heartbeat. Because Ryung-gu may have given up on love, but he won’t give up on her. Not again.
So he keeps his head low and his heart guarded, not seeking out love and outright affection from anyone. He allows himself the small joy of friendship with the one who greeted him into his afterlife, Koo Ryeon, but even then, they seem to dance on the line between friends and colleagues.
He appreciates his relationship with Ryeon for what it is—knows that they do care for and would do anything to help each other in a moment of crisis—but he also is aware of Ryeon’s hidden demons. Neither are overtly affectionate with physical touch or words of affirmation nor do they spend time hanging out together as friends normally would. So, he takes what he can get from this relationship and cherishes the fact that he has it at all, never asking for more.
He thinks it’s a solid plan, in theory.
Except, just like most things in Ryung-gu’s life, nothing seems to follow the plans he creates.
—
Enter Choi Jun-woong.
Ryung-gu never planned for someone like Jun-woong to come into his life so abruptly and mess up his perfectly laid system so thoroughly.
It was his big heart that Ryung-gu noticed first, though he didn’t necessarily see it as a positive at the time.
They met on a bridge when Jun-woong, clearly going through it himself, put his own cares aside and jumped into action to help save the homeless man. He completely disregarded any warnings from Ryeon and Ryung-gu and thought only of saving this man he didn’t know, whatever the cost.
Ryung-gu, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to remove Jun-woong from the situation so he and Ryeon could save the homeless man themselves. He saw Jun-woong as a bit of a nuisance and hindrance from getting the job done. Ryung-gu thought he was someone too headstrong and single-minded to pay more attention to than necessary. A clear troublemaker he didn’t want to be associated with.
Needless to say, they didn’t get off on the right foot.
Things only escalated when Jun-woong, after falling off the bridge in an attempt to save this stranger, fell into a coma. With this turn of events came deliberation over what should be done with him before it was decided that Jun-woong would be proposed a deal to be a Grim Reaper in return for waking up in six months instead of three years.
Upon hearing this news, Ryung-gu wanted nothing to do with Jun-woong and had hoped he would be placed to work as a half-and-half Reaper with any other department. Who would want to work with someone so impulsive and troublesome anyway?
Luck, unsurprisingly, was not on his side because of course Jun-woong was assigned to work with the Risk Management Team.
And maybe that’s when things really started to change for Ryung-gu with the wrecking ball that is Choi Jun-woong. With their newfound coworker status came more opportunities for interaction.
Initially, Ryung-gu was sold on the idea that he and Jun-woong would never get along, and therefore their relationship would never progress past this tentative acceptance of being coworkers.
Oh, how foolish he was to think it’d be that simple. Nothing is ever simple with Jun-woong, he’ll come to learn.
Maybe that’s why it catches him off guard when, after wrapping up an admittedly tough case, Ryung-gu hesitates before leaving the office. Ryeon had already left a few minutes prior, eager to head out and decompress.
Ryung-gu himself was just about done pulling all his things together and planning what drama he should watch tonight when his gaze caught on hunched shoulders and a faraway look in dark, glistening brown eyes.
He’s only a week and a half into this gig and it’s clear that Jun-woong is finding the transition into this job to be challenging. It’s understandable when Ryung-gu remembers how difficult this job can be, especially at the start. Day in and day out putting yourself into the shoes of those you seek to save, trying to figure out the best way to reach out to them, to connect with them, and, ultimately, save them.
It’s hard not to get emotionally attached to these cases, but at some point, you need to distance yourself just enough so you can push on and help others too. Jun-woong seems to be struggling with that. It probably doesn’t help that, in this situation, his support network is so close yet so far—just a few miles from his fingertips but not able to be reached.
It’s lonely.
And so, Ryung-gu hesitates.
He swore that he wouldn’t get close to anyone else, but he reasons with himself that this isn’t getting close. This is just…helping a coworker adjust to the new work environment.
He takes the plunge before he can talk himself out of it.
“Coffee?” he asks bluntly. Jun-woong seems to snap out of whatever thoughts he was buried in and turns to Ryung-gu. Their eyes meet, and Ryung-gu can feel his heart lurch at the teary, almost puppy dog-like stare he’s met with.
He tries not to think about the emotions that look triggered.
“Huh?” Jun-woong asks. Ryung-gu sighs.
“I said: coffee?”
“Isn’t it…too late for that?” Jun-woong has a point. It’s nearing midnight, and they have work in the morning, so caffeine now probably wouldn’t be the smartest decision.
A familiar itch creeps in his nose, and Ryung-gu picks at it as he says, “Were you going to sleep at all anyway?”
Jun-woong straightens up a bit in his seat, clearly taken aback by his own transparency. Ryung-gu gets the urge to laugh at the other’s shock but he represses it. Jun-woong opens his mouth to respond, but Ryung-gu cuts him off.
“Get your stuff together, we’re heading out.”
Jun-woong, ever the faithful follower, hurries and gets himself ready to head out for the night. When he’s all situated, Ryung-gu wastes no time in walking out of the office, leading Jun-woong through the corridors of Jumadeung and out to the streets of the Land of the Living.
“Try not to get lost,” Ryung-gu says before taking off in the direction of a local cafe he frequents when he finds himself too lost in his head, sleep ever elusive.
It’s a quiet walk with neither participant willing to shatter this tentative peace between them, yet not uncomfortable. The only noises that disrupt them are their shoes hitting the sidewalk and the faint sounds of cars and horns.
When they arrive at the cafe, Ryung-gu opens the door. Jun-woong gives him a small smile as he utters a “thanks” which leaves Ryung-gu reeling slightly.
The silence resumes and lingers until the two are sitting at one of the tables, drinks in hand. Ryung-gu looks at his iced americano, wondering what to do next. Honestly, he didn’t have much of a plan in mind. He just felt weak in the heart at Jun-woong’s clear loneliness and wanted to help the guy out.
As a concerned coworker and nothing more, of course.
Although, maybe if they were friends Ryung-gu would have a bit more of a clue of how to handle the consequences of his own actions here.
Thankfully, Jun-woong is a natural chatterbox and takes the reins, trying to put a positive spin on this adventure despite very well knowing why they’re here.
“You come here often?” Jun-woong teases, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Often enough,” Ryung-gu responds.
“Even at night?”
“I never said I had healthy habits.”
Jun-woong huffs a laugh at that, his faint smile softening into something more genuine. Ryung-gu wasn’t trying to joke with the guy, but he takes the win anyway.
“So that would mean…”
“More frequently than you might think.”
Silence. A troubled look falls over Jun-woong’s face once more, and it’s like Ryung-gu can witness the very moment the feelings of loneliness and distress return.
“Is it always this hard?”
The straightforwardness of Jun-woong’s question catches Ryung-gu off guard, but at the same time, he’s relieved. This is familiar territory. Safe. Something he can talk about while remaining distant.
“Not always,” he starts. He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, “You’ll get used to it and learn to manage your feelings.”
“How?” Jun-woong’s voice catches on the small word, and Ryung-gu feels that lurch from earlier strike again.
“Time.”
Jun-woong’s fingers twitch against the iced latte cup in his own hands, unsatisfied because he doesn’t have time. Ryung-gu sighs, realizing being blunt and straightforward isn’t the right path for this conversation. He switches tactics.
“It’s not wrong of you to feel this way. It’s hard not to see ourselves in the people we work with. To sympathize with them,” Ryung-gu pauses, considering his next words, “It’s an emotionally draining job, but we can’t allow ourselves to lose sight of the fact that they need our help and that we need to be objective. If we invest ourselves too fully emotionally into each case, we’ll lose ourselves along the way. Then how will we help others?”
Jun-woong seems to take his words to heart, a contemplative look on his face.
“It’s just so… hard.” Jun-woong’s voice wobbles, a sign that he may end up crying soon. Ryung-gu has a sneaking suspicion that tears aren’t uncommon to Jun-woong, though.
“I know.”
“How can this get easier?”
“It will.”
“How?”
“Because you’re not alone.”
Silence takes over again as Jun-woong looks up from where his fists are clenched on the table, his latte forgotten. Glistening eyes meet steeled ones. Ryung-gu lets his words settle before continuing.
“You’re not expected to be perfect at this job. You’ll go through trial and error as you figure your role out, but you’re not doing it alone. We may be more experienced at this, but we’re not unaware. We all have to start somewhere.”
A beat passes before Jun-woong releases the waterworks, the stress from everything that’s happened to him recently finally reaching a boiling point. And while Ryung-gu is happy that Jun-woong seems to process his emotions in a healthy way and isn’t afraid to cry in public spaces, Ryung-gu, on the other hand, has no idea how to handle this turn of events. Should he say something? Should he pat his shoulder? That’s what people do, right? Offer physical comfort and emotional support?
He feels horribly out of practice. (He definitely is.)
And so, he opts to let the silence continue, trying not to wonder if Jun-woong feels as awkward as he does right now. He couldn’t say how much time passes before Jun-woong settles down some and wipes his cheeks dry with his sleeves.
“Thank you.” His voice sounds ragged and tired, but relieved. The tightness on Ryung-gu’s heart releases. He nods his head, unsure of how to act now.
“Your coffee’s getting watered-down,” Ryung-gu comments, cringing internally at how emotionally constipated he sounds. Oh, to be decent at providing comfort and processing emotions…must be nice.
But Jun-woong just laughs, hearty and only slightly wet from his earlier tears.
“Okay.”
And with a small smile, Jun-woong takes a sip of his drink. His lips pucker slightly at the taste of his watered-down drink, but he keeps on sipping like a trooper. Ryung-gu holds in a laugh at his expression.
They stay at the cafe until it closes.
The next morning they both find themselves in the Risk Management Team’s office looking exhausted. Ryeon’s eyes bounce back and forth between the two, clearly trying to piece together the puzzle before her.
“You two look worse for wear. Late night?”
Ryung-gu is about to spout off an excuse about noisy neighbors or insomnia when Jun-woong, with his heart on full display, speaks first.
“Mr. Lim took me out for coffee after work and we hung out late. Sorry, I should’ve kept track of the time better, Ms. Koo. It won’t happen again,” he says, his smile contradicting the apology in his words. He looks more alive and joyous than he has been these past few days. Huh.
If Ryeon’s surprised by his words, she doesn’t let it show.
“Alright,” she says with a nod. Jun-woong gives her cheeky finger hearts before getting his work table situated for the day, humming to himself quietly.
With Jun-woong distracted, Ryeon immediately fixates on Ryung-gu. He feels his palms sweat slightly at their eye contact.
“Coffee?” she mouths, an incredulous look on her face. Ryung-gu sputters slightly, no explanation coming to mind.
“Shut up,” he mouths back for lack of a better response. Her expression suddenly becomes incredibly amused, as if she sees something he doesn’t in this whole situation.
Unwilling to talk about it anymore, he turns on his laptop, absentmindedly picking his nose when the familiar urge returns.
It was just a one-time occasion. Whatever she’s thinking about, she’s probably wrong anyway.
Right?
—
Nope.
It would appear that even the best-laid plans can unravel and fall apart if given enough resistance from an outside force.
Ryung-gu blames Jun-woong.
Why does the guy have to be so likable?
Because that’s a new revelation Ryung-gu now has to make sense of. Ever since their coffee outing, Jun-woong has been nice— incredibly nice. Not that he wasn’t before, but somehow it’s much more than it was. Or maybe Ryung-gu’s just paying closer attention to it now.
He starts to notice how Jun-woong’s all smiley and sunshine-y in his disposition. He sees how considerate Jun-woong is when he will sometimes surprise Ryung-gu with his preferred coffee order in the mornings “just because.” Or Jun-woong will have the audacity to hold his hand up for a high five whenever something good happens to the team on a case like he wants to share his happiness with Ryung-gu. Or he even will tease Ryung-gu and laugh freely afterward, as if it brings him the utmost joy in life.
Which, for the record, is a thing they do now—they joke and tease each other. They have banter.
And Ryung-gu, to his absolute horror, finds that he likes these interactions. Or worse, he likes Jun-woong. He honest to goodness likes this golden retriever of a man and actually looks forward to their interactions. He even finds himself wanting to give in and high-five him back.
So yeah, that whole “no more friends” plan has been found by Jun-woong and promptly thrown out the window without any consideration of Ryung-gu and his feelings.
He’s not quite sure how he’s gotten to this point or if there’s any chance of going back. If Jun-woong has anything to say about it, though, Ryung-gu’s willing to guess that he’s stuck with this whole “friend” thing.
And he can’t even find it within himself to be upset.
He refuses to read into that at all.
But it’s fine. He can be friends with Jun-woong. He’s friends with Ryeon and that’s going okay. “Friends” doesn’t mean “best friends,” therefore he can still maintain his distance so Jun-woong doesn’t fall into the mess that is Ryung-gu’s life. He can protect Jun-woong from the side effects of getting too close.
This will be fine.
(Famous last words.)
The problem, once again, lies with Choi Jun-woong.
It’s his persistence that Ryung-gu notices next.
Ryung-gu tries his best to stay aloof and distanced, he really does, but no matter how much distance he implements (emotional or physical), Jun-woong happily meets him where he is but never intrudes.
It starts with questions.
They’re innocent and low stakes, nothing heavy hitting. But Ryung-gu sees them for what they are: getting to know you questions. Meaning Jun-woong is actually interested in striking up a relationship and maintaining a friendship.
Ryung-gu’s not sure what to make of that, but he humors the other regardless.
The questions start easy and casual enough and are mainly asked whenever they’re at the office in-between cases.
“What all can you do with your Reaper abilities?”
“How long have you and Ms. Koo been working together?”
“What are you watching?”
Eventually, though, Ryung-gu finds himself getting asked these questions even when they’re on the clock in moments where the case falls into a lull, such as when they’re waiting for someone to show up when they’re scouting for information. Not only that, but they get more…personal. Familiar.
“Have you tried hazelnut syrup in your iced americanos before?”
“So how old are you actually?”
“What made you want to dye only part of your hair blonde?”
And yet, somehow they’re not annoying questions, and Ryung-gu even finds himself appreciating Jun-woong’s chatterbox ways. It helps fill the silence that he was used to when it was just Ryeon and him. Time doesn’t pass quite as slowly during these lulls.
Interestingly, Jun-woong seems to gear most of these questions towards Ryung-gu in particular. Maybe it’s because the few times he asks Ryeon anything about her life she shoots him down with vague responses and a flat look that Jun-woong takes in stride. Maybe it’s because when Ryung-gu tried to pull the same flat look, he eventually caved at the sight of Jun-woong’s puppy dog eyes.
Or maybe it’s because Ryung-gu is finding it increasingly harder to say no to Jun-woong.
It’s anyone’s guess, really.
But then it progresses and his walls start crumbling in the face of such a radiant personality.
Ryung-gu thinks he probably could’ve maintained a distance if Jun-woong, the caring and excitable man that he is, didn’t hand out physical affection so easily. Because it reminds Ryung-gu of what he’s been (willingly) depriving himself of.
Suddenly it’s not just passing questions of introductions or whatever stream of consciousness Jun-woong finds himself on, but genuine interest coupled with touching and eye contact.
It’s full attention.
And Ryung-gu crumbles like a weak man under it.
He’d forgotten what it’s like being the center of someone’s attention, of having someone so genuinely want to learn more about you because they see something inside you worth knowing. His relationship with Ryeon, though treasured, doesn’t include such niceties and small talk. They’re cut from the same cloth and are satisfied with comfortable silences together. They learn about each other through actions and the rare heart-to-heart. They’ve been with each other a long time and worked side-by-side on enough cases that they’re a fine-tuned machine. They don’t need to fill their time with hangout sessions and mindless chatter.
But this?
This is a whole other field.
The touching isn’t anything overly affectionate—Jun-woong is respectful of his boundaries and never pushes too far—but it’s noticeable nonetheless considering it wasn’t there before.
Sometimes it’s a joking pat on the back after a teasing remark. Or sometimes it’s a slight tug on the arm to get Ryung-gu’s attention to tell him something important. Or once it was a shoulder touch from Ryung-gu and a pinky promise from Jun-woong in the quiet of the evening after another difficult case left Jun-woong rattled in the office—a promise that Jun-woong will be okay and that he’s supported.
It’s baby steps. It’s minuscule. (It’s so much.)
But it’s nothing he can’t handle.
At least, that’s what he’s reminding himself right now. They’re currently walking together to meet up with Ryeon at the business headquarters he’s already forgotten the name of to submit their resignations for the jobs they acquired for their recent case. All things considered, Ryung-gu is holding himself together just fine on this walk, thank you very much. He’s definitely not fixated on how Jun-woong’s hand is currently situated in the crook of his arm.
“So I don’t lose you in the crowd,” Jun-woong had said with a wink and a warm smile after initially latching on.
Which was a load of nonsense considering the sidewalk isn’t even that crowded but Ryung-gu can’t say no. Not when that smile is sent his way, causing his ears to heat up gently.
Ignoring these reactions seems to be the best course of action.
They’re just friends in the loosest way possible, nothing more. He can let Jun-woong hold onto his arm because that’s what friends do, even the very casual ones—it’s polite.
“What’s the worst hairstyle you’ve ever had?” Jun-woong asks curiously. It’s their familiar rhythm at this point. Jun-woong asks and Ryung-gu answers.
“Where’s this coming from?” he responds, forcing his voice to sound uninterested.
“I mean, you’ve been around a long time—”
“Watch it,” Ryung-gu warns, no actual heat in his words.
“And you obviously try to keep up with the trends,” and now Jun-woong is making a show of analyzing Ryung-gu’s entire appearance, “So surely you must have looked bad at some point.”
Ryung-gu’s face is one of pain. How could it not be? His colleague-slash-so-far-removed-friend is asking him to relive all of his bad wardrobe decisions. And he’s insinuating that Ryung-gu’s old. The audacity.
“Wouldn’t that be a subjective opinion of my appearance?” he retorts bluntly. Jun-woong hums in consideration.
“Sure…but I can’t tell you if I subjectively think it was a bad choice unless you tell me first.” And there it is, the smug smile paired with pleased eyes as if Jun-woong had prepared for this very response. Ryung-gu lets out a sigh, questioning why he even entertains these questions at all.
“I had shoulder-length hair,” he fesses up, trying to sound disinterested all the while. Ryung-gu turns his head to see Jun-woong looking sufficiently disappointed, a slight pout on his lips.
“What?” Ryung-gu asks, feeling a bit peeved at such a reaction.
“That’s it? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“What are you talking about? You wanted my honest answer.”
“Yeah, but I asked for a bad hairstyle. You probably looked really good with it,” Jun-woong whines.
Ryung-gu chokes on nothing.
“What?” he just barely manages. Jun-woong just ignores him and keeps talking, as if in his own world.
“I bet you even wore it with beanies and other stupid accessories.”
Truly, Ryung-gu has lost all grasp of this conversation and why, precisely, Jun-woong seems to be all up in arms by the fact that Ryung-gu once had long hair and that he wasn’t around to see it.
He doesn’t get paid enough for this.
“I don’t understand you sometimes,” Ryung-gu grumbles to himself, looking away from Jun-woong.
Suddenly the unthinkable happens. Jun-woong releases Ryung-gu’s arm and wraps it around his shoulders. It’s probably the closest they’ve gotten and the most they’ve touched. Ryung-gu is now intimately aware of the warmth radiating from Jun-woong and the various points of contact between their bodies. Better yet, he feels more than hears how Jun-woong begins to laugh to himself over Ryung-gu’s comment.
And it’s…nice.
There’s a pleasant sort of buzzing from where the two are touching that sends Ryung-gu’s stomach swooping just the slightest bit. Weird, that’s never happened before.
Then, Jun-woong turns to him, all smiling and laughing still.
“Someone has to keep you on your toes.”
Admittedly, nothing spectacular happens at that moment, but when Ryung-gu turns his head and gets a front-row seat to Jun-woong’s teasing smile, his palms immediately become clammy and his heart goes all aflutter. Distantly, he can feel his ears turning a soft shade of pink.
Oh.
It’s as if Ryung-gu’s entire world has come crashing down around him with Jun-woong none the wiser of the impact his smile just caused. Ryung-gu can hardly believe it himself if he’s being honest.
Because it’s at that moment that he realizes he doesn’t just like Jun-woong, but he likes him.
Oh no.
—
So.
It would appear he has a crush on Jun-woong.
Fantastic.
Surely it’s nothing to worry about, right? His heart is just reacting as any other’s would in the presence of someone who exudes such loving and warm energy.
Crushes are just passing interests anyway. It’ll go away in time. Besides, Ryung-gu has eyes, he knows how objectively attractive Jun-woong is. This will pass as any other childish crush would and he’ll be back to normal soon. This doesn’t have to mean anything. This doesn’t have to change anything.
It’s nothing.
(It’s everything.)
If Ryung-gu is completely open, though, having a crush is annoying. Suddenly he’s hyperaware of Jun-woong in a way he never was before. Every affection sent his way from Jun-woong is overanalyzed, causing his heart to do all sorts of swoops and drops. Every second of eye contact is questioned as he cannot for the life of him remember how long you can stare at someone before it gets weird.
And the touching. Don’t even get him started on the touching. He was just barely managing the high fives and the pokes and prods, and those didn’t prepare him in the slightest for the side hugs, the frequent proximity, or the cuddling.
They certainly didn’t prepare him for the Hand-holding Incident. Those few minutes where his heart was sent into overdrive trying to stay in control of all his dumb feelings when Jun-woong grabbed his hand and looked his way with such affection in his eyes. His feet didn’t help the situation, either, causing him to nearly trip several times as he couldn’t take his eyes off Jun-woong all the way to the restaurant.
And how could he forget the worst of them all: the napping on each other when they were watching the drama they started together. Ryung-gu can still recall waking up with Jun-woong’s arms around him and his own slightly flushed cheeks that he’s sure were not caused by the temperature of the room.
He doesn’t even remember what the meal they shared that night tasted like. Or what happened in the episode they watched together that day when they both fell asleep.
Because somehow through it all Jun-woong has found himself comfortable being around Ryung-gu and more open with his affection. Meanwhile, Ryung-gu with his fluttering heart and feelings doesn’t want to push him away.
All roads lead back to Jun-woong, and it’s terrifying.
If Ryeon’s secretive winks and suppressed laughter are anything to go off of following this series of events, he’s not doing a good job of keeping his crush on the down low either.
He can only hope Jun-woong remains oblivious to it all, or at least until he can get his stupid heart to move on.
What gets him fully in the end, however, is Jun-woong’s devotion and optimism.
These are things Ryung-gu has been acutely aware of since they first met, but it’s something else entirely when he witnesses the combination in full force.
It’s no secret that Ryung-gu is a bit of a realist. He doesn’t set his hopes up too high to spare himself from crushing disappointment and therefore keeps himself guarded, not wishing to hurt or be hurt by others.
Jun-woong is the exact opposite.
And unlike Ryung-gu who builds walls around himself for protection, Jun-woong is a bit like a wrecking ball, seeking to set others free from the darkness they hide in. Maybe that’s why he’s always trying to see the best in others, wanting so desperately to believe that there’s good in everyone.
Of course, that’s not always the case, and all too often, the other Reapers in Jumadeung capitalize on that for their personal amusement.
It’s not uncommon for rumors about Ryeon and Ryung-gu to spread around Jumadeung considering they’re both anomalies. Even when they are on their best behavior, rumors fly.
Two souls, ended by suicide and destined for Hell (one of which did spend time there), now working in the afterlife as Grim Reapers who save suicidal people…it’s strange. Pair that with the fact that neither speaks much of their past or what got them to where they are? Well, it certainly keeps the rumor mill happy and the speculation endless.
Jun-woong, throughout his time working with the RM Team, has become familiar with who Ryeon and Ryung-gu truly are and where they come from. He knows more about them than most do, except for perhaps the Jade Emperor and each other.
What Ryung-gu often forgets, however, is that, unlike himself, Jun-woong hasn’t built up a tolerance toward the gossip and rumors. Instead, he takes the nasty and judgmental words to heart every time, wanting everyone else to realize how wrong they are about Ryeon and Ryung-gu. He self-righteously challenges these rumors even if he doesn’t know the truth behind them because he wants to believe the very best of his superiors.
(His friends, if either Ryeon or Ryung-gu are feeling generous and open with their emotions.)
Ryung-gu finds his heart hurting every time he has to console Jun-woong about whatever rumor, whether it be a misconstrued truth or a hard lie, he had heard. It aches to see someone care so fiercely and feel so deeply about him and take the harsh rumors to heart.
The most recent one, it seems, appears to be about Ryung-gu this time. He’s walking into Jumadeung when he overhears Jun-woong’s voice, loud and powerful, carrying across the atrium. He can’t quite make out what he’s saying, but the volume alone causes Ryung-gu to immediately start tracking down where Jun-woong is.
He spots him right off of the elevators among a crowd of Reapers.
“...you call yourselves Reapers? You’re all hypocrites for thinking you can cast judgment on Mr. Lim without knowing him.”
Though Ryung-gu didn’t catch the first half of the sentence, it’s clear that Jun-woong is threatening this crowd. Oh boy.
There’s a response from one of the Reapers that Ryung-gu cannot hear, only to be answered by Jun-woong saying something that he only catches once his volume increases.
“...right now, or I swear you don’t want to see what happens.”
And now would be the time to intervene, Ryung-gu thinks to himself. He makes his way over to the crowd by the elevator.
“Mr. Choi.”
Everyone turns their heads to look at Ryung-gu who looms behind Jun-woong. He schools his face into something professional but fierce, causing many then to look away awkwardly.
Jun-woong doesn’t turn around.
“Mr. Choi,” he repeats, unwavering.
It works this time. Jun-woong turns, an upset expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, making his voice intentionally softer. Jun-woong’s face turns more upset as he looks away from Ryung-gu and towards the crowd again. There’s a slight pout on his lips when he turns back to face Ryung-gu.
“They were talking bad about you,” Jun-woong says, a bit petulant. Ryung-gu sighs at the demonstration of Jun-woong’s expected superhero antics, but right now he can’t find it within himself to feel too upset about it.
“I see. Come along, Mr. Choi.” And with that Ryung-gu turns so that his back is to the crowd. “They’re not worth our time.”
He begins walking away, and after a few moments, the hurried footsteps behind him let him know that Jun-woong is catching up. He prepares himself for the onslaught of questions that are sure to follow.
“How can you be so indifferent about that? How could you stand there and say nothing?” Jun-woong asks incredulously, “They were saying such horrible things about you!”
“Like what?”
“That you’re uncaring! That you’re selfish and unloving…” Jun-woong trails off, and Ryung-gu picks up on the slight tremor in his voice. It’s an indicator that Jun-woong may be a few moments away from shedding a tear or two in upset.
“Are they wrong?”
“Yes!”
And that…that catches Ryung-gu off guard. His steps falter ever so slightly but he manages to right himself.
“What makes you so sure about that?”
“Because you’re so incredibly selfless,” Jun-woong states like it’s one of the many truths of the universe, “You’re always putting others before yourself and, yeah, you act all aloof and broody but you only act that way because you care so much and this stupid world has been so cruel to you.”
Ryung-gu stops walking, and Jun-woong takes that as his cue to step in front of him so that they face each other.
“You know that, right?” Jun-woong asks, pleading.
Ryung-gu takes a moment to consider his words before responding, “I’m not the person you think I am, Jun-woong.”
“Yes, you are!” Suddenly, Ryung-gu is taken off guard when Jun-woong holds tightly onto both of his hands, desperation written all over his face. Ryung-gu is barely able to handle his rapidly beating heart at the action and forces himself to push the gooey feelings away as Jun-woong continues, “You invite me out to coffee like you know when I’m going to have a hard night even though it means you won’t sleep either. You joke along with me even when you act like you don’t want to. You share your interests with me and listen when I share mine. You let me be myself even when everyone else thinks I need to conform to this…idea of a better version of myself just so I can get a job or- or be successful or happy and…and I don’t think anyone who cares so much for others like you do should be seen as someone so cold.”
Ryung-gu’s stomach is in knots and his hands start to shake despite the gentle but firm hold they’re in. Jun-woong’s desperation on his face, through his speech, has transformed into reverence and admiration—two things Ryung-gu’s not sure he deserves but he’s receiving ten-fold anyway. He knew Jun-woong cared for him and saw him as a close friend, but the devotion he has both to their relationship and Ryung-gu is overwhelming.
He can barely get any words out.
“Isn’t it enough that you know that?”
Jun-woong shakes his head slowly and the pout settles back on his lips. He squeezes their joined hands tight, but not painfully so.
“I just…want other people to see you the way I do.” His voice wobbles, but there are no tears, thankfully.
Ryung-gu swallows and feels as though his heart is in his throat.
“And how’s that?” he whispers.
“As one of the best people I know.”
And that’s it, isn’t it? Jun-woong, ever the optimist with his too-big heart, has taken on the task of challenging what everyone else deems to be true about Ryung-gu. Jun-woong may not even be aware of it, but he makes Ryung-gu want to be a better person. He wants to believe he is the person Jun-woong thinks him to be. He wants to be deserving of such devotion and praise.
To do that, though, he has to be honest with both Jun-woong and himself.
“You’re one of the best people I know too,” Ryung-gu confesses even though it leaves him feeling uncomfortable at such openness. But he can do this. For Jun-woong.
Jun-woong lets out a soft laugh before letting one of his hands go from Ryung-gu’s to come up and rest on his shoulder. The two share intense eye contact before Jun-woong leans forward. He watches as Jun-woong closes his eyes and for a brief, heartstopping moment, Ryung-gu wonders if Jun-woong is going to kiss him.
What happens instead is the gentle touching of foreheads. A single point of contact outside of where their hands meet. This close, Ryung-gu can count every eyelash, see every beauty mark, and admire the other in such an intimate way.
He can’t close his eyes. He refuses to not relish this moment.
All the while, Ryung-gu feels his heart racing and hopes the clamminess of his hands isn’t noticed by Jun-woong who still holds on tightly to one of them.
His breath feels stolen.
He’s unsure of how long they stand like that, but when Jun-woong pulls away, he’s more composed and put together than he was before. He still holds onto Ryung-gu, refusing to let go. Ryung-gu, the weak man that he is for Jun-woong, says nothing and holds on just as tightly.
“Thank you,” Ryung-gu says quietly. For what he’s thanking Jun-woong for, he cannot say. It’s a loaded thanks, one that encompasses so much but that he feels covers so little. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to express his gratitude for Jun-woong.
Regardless, Jun-woong seems to understand the gravity of his words anyway and smiles brightly, giving their hands a tight squeeze.
And as they begin their walk to the office together, hands still intertwined, Ryung-gu allows himself to sink into the warm feelings that culminate around him. He begins to wonder what it would be like to have this not just in fleeting moments, but in consistency. He feels a tug in his chest when he remembers his past, but the yearning for the future he so desperately wants eclipses that.
And for the first time, he wonders what it would be like to say “yes” and to take a leap of faith, to open his heart again and allow himself to bask in the love of another.
It’s as if he can feel a shift within himself. Something clicks into place as he sees the full picture ahead of him.
Because isn't that what this is?
Try as he might, he’s not a fool, and this isn’t something that will pass. It’s not a crush and it’s not surface-level; it’s deep and infiltrating. It takes up his mind, thoughts, and feelings.
Simple and plain, he’s in love with this man who feels too much and cares so deeply. This man who sees the best in everyone, including Ryung-gu.
But Ryung-gu chooses to freak out about his revelation later. For now, he’ll take this stolen moment and keep it close to his heart.
—
Once he has the time to acknowledge his realization and give it some time to settle, knowing that he’s in love with Jun-woong is all kinds of dizzying, leaving him incapable of reorienting himself properly. He wonders if he could ever go back to the way he was.
Now that he knows that his infatuation is so much more than just a crush, Ryung-gu finds himself at a crossroads.
On one hand, he could give into the temptation that constantly tugs on him and confess to Jun-woong.
On the other hand, he could live in cowardice and deniability, never acting upon the way he feels.
When he takes into consideration the way Jun-woong acts with him, Ryung-gu thinks the first option may be plausible and end in reciprocity. Because there are a lot of things that Jun-woong is—big-hearted, persistent, devoted, optimistic—but there’s one thing he isn’t: subtle.
However, then he’s reminded of the reality of the situation—they don’t have time. Jun-woong is set to leave here after six months and not return until he passes away for real in the Land of the Living. This is all temporary. Whether or not he acts on his feelings, Ryung-gu faces certain heartbreak.
Is it better to have love and lost, or never have loved at all?
He’s not sure.
So he falls back on old habits and doesn’t act. He keeps his lips sealed and acts as if every interaction with Jun-woong isn’t charged with an undercurrent of “what if.” He pretends he doesn’t see the longing looks Jun-woong sends him. He tries to write off their banter and meaningful touches as something commonly shared between friends. Or when Ryung-gu weeps into Jun-woong’s arms, emotionally drained and grief-stricken over his mother, he tries to view it as nothing more than Jun-woong being a supportive friend.
He has time. He’ll figure this out. There’s no rush.
However, this time, his plan isn’t uprooted by Jun-woong, but by Ryeon.
The two of them are the only ones in the office early in the morning; Jun-woong is not slated to join them for a few more minutes at the earliest. As the superiors, they make a point of coming in early to set up and prepare for the day. Usually, they leave these moments silent as neither is a fan of small talk, but this morning Ryeon changes that.
“Mr. Lim,” she says, grabbing his attention.
“Yes?” he responds, looking up so that they make eye contact. She pauses for a moment.
“You know you’re going to hurt him, right?”
She doesn’t need to say anything more for him to understand who she is talking about. Ryung-gu sighs.
“Don’t you think I know that?” he questions incredulously.
“I don’t think you do.”
She walks over to where he’s seated at his desk and leans against it casually like they’re just catching up, not having one of their rare heart-to-hearts.
“He’s not like us,” she starts softly, “He’s sensitive and emotional…so sure of what he wants and believes in. Determined to achieve his goals no matter the cost.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m saying…that you may not think you’re what he deserves, but you’re what he wants. Denying yourself the chance of happiness will just hurt both of you in the long run. Is that honestly what you want?” Ryeon prods.
“You said it yourself, I’m only going to hurt him,” Ryung-gu argues.
“And you will,” she agrees, “if you keep this up, that is. But you have the opportunity to make him and yourself happy. You’ve been given the chance to love and be loved. Isn’t that worth taking a shot?”
Ryung-gu watches as a flicker of grief passes over Ryeon’s face as she speaks, clearly reminiscing on something. He goes to ask about that look on her face when a familiar gait can be heard approaching the office. As Jun-woong turns around the corner and enters their shared space, Ryeon pushes herself off Ryung-gu’s desk and begins walking back to her own.
“Think about it,” is what she leaves him with.
Jun-woong sends them both a curious look that they both ignore before falling into the familiar rhythm they’ve established after all these weeks of working as a trio.
Ryeon’s words weigh on Ryung-gu’s mind and he, begrudgingly, admits to himself that she has a point. He’d be oblivious not to notice the undertones of his interactions with Jun-woong, and Ryung-gu’s willing ignorance of their shared feelings will only cause Jun-woong to hurt over time.
Still, staring down that hurdle and thinking of getting over it seems daunting if not impossible.
That’s why, the next time he has some free time for himself, he does something he didn’t think he’d do.
He goes to the hospital.
On his trek there, he can’t help but imagine walking there with Jun-woong. He smiles when he thinks about how Jun-woong would probably make some joke about Ryung-gu going to see a love doctor if he knew why Ryung-gu was going there in the first place.
When he gets to the hospital, he finds himself walking slowly down the hallways as if it would delay the inevitable. He panics when he arrives outside of the room, wondering if he’s going to be greeted by anyone once he opens the door.
Ryung-gu steels himself and pushes the door open.
There’s no one there. He lets out a sigh of relief.
Closing the door behind him, Ryung-gu begins making his way further into the room, the sounds of the heart monitor being the only noise alongside his footsteps.
One peek around the curtain and sure enough, there he is—Choi Jun-woong. Unconscious. Comatose. So close yet so far.
Ryung-gu takes in this form of Jun-woong and feels his heart clench at the sight. He walks closer and closer before taking a seat at the edge of the bed.
He can’t say how long he sits in the quiet simply staring at Jun-woong like this before he starts speaking. He picks at his nose for no other reason than to occupy his hands somehow.
“You’re probably…wondering why I’m here,” he starts before immediately cringing at himself. All that time spent talking with Jun-woong and he still finds himself struggling to start a conversation. Maybe it’s a good thing Jun-woong’s unconscious so he doesn’t have to bear witness to his floundering.
“Look, I’m not good at easing into conversations like you are, so I’ll just be straightforward with you,” Ryung-gu takes in a deep breath before continuing, “I like you.”
He releases his breath.
“I like you…so much. And I think you like me too, for some reason. But the problem is, you’re…here. And I’m dead. Would you genuinely be happy being with someone like me only to forget about me—forget about us —just a couple of months later?”
He, of course, gets no response, not that he was expecting one in the first place. Ryung-gu plows on.
“I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. And I hate to admit it but you scare me sometimes. This whole situation scares me. I worry that I’m going to…mess you up somehow. Or, mess this up, rather. And that when you die when your time has come, you’ll remember us again and begrudge me somehow. I don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose you.”
Ryung-gu takes the opportunity to grasp onto one of Jun-woong’s hands. His hand is slightly chilled and his fingers are limp, but Ryung-gu holds on all the same.
“I think what scares me most though is that…I’m tired of being this way. I’m tired of being alone. Is it selfish of me to want to be happy? To take up your time and attention when I know you’re going to leave no matter what because neither of us has a choice here?”
He feels himself getting slightly emotional, but forces himself to hold it together as he continues.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s something I have to figure out for myself. We don’t have time, but…you make me want to be a better version of myself. A happier one. So I think,” he awkwardly clears his throat, “I think if you asked me to take the leap, I’d say yes. Because I…”
He feels three familiar words he hasn’t said in well over one hundred years sit on his tongue waiting to be said, but he refrains from uttering them. No, if he ever gets the courage to say them aloud, he wants to say it to a conscious Jun-woong. It’s only right.
“I only hope you’d do the same.”
With that, Ryung-gu lifts Jun-woong’s hand that he’s been holding and places a soft kiss on the back of it. As if on cue, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.
He opens it up to read several short messages from Ryeon, informing him that there’s a new case they’re on and a location for where they’re meeting up. He sends a quick response back before tucking his phone back away. As he gets up from the hospital bed, he casts one last longing look at Jun-woong before turning around and walking out the door.
At first, the case serves as a distraction from Ryung-gu’s wonderings and questions of “what if,” but it culminates in a way he had not expected.
It’s not the first time any of them have been harmed on the job, but it’s always something different when Jun-woong is the target of the attack. Jun-woong had tried to help the girl who they were trying to save, but for his efforts was punched and shoved several times over, leaving him with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and a busted lip.
All things considered, they’re relatively minor injuries. Nothing to be concerned with in the long run. Except…seeing the blood, red scratches, and bruises on Jun-woong is a hard sight for Ryung-gu to witness. It hurts on a different level to remember that Jun-woong is so fragile. It’s a hard reminder that while Ryung-gu and Ryeon are both full Grim Reapers, Jun-woong is only a partial one. He’ll get hurt and sustain injuries, and if he falls too far into harm’s way in this form, it may very well end his actual life before his time is due.
Ryung-gu may want more time with Jun-woong, possibly forever, but he doesn’t want Jun-woong’s life to be cut too short. He wants Jun-woong to live his life in the Land of the Living to the fullest.
This is why Ryung-gu takes matters into his own hands and personally offers to patch Jun-woong up. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it, and he needs to see that Jun-woong is okay with his own eyes so that his heart can stop tremoring in his chest.
He’s not sure why he picks a small fight with Jun-woong while he’s patching him up, accusing him of being careless and lacking in experience as a Grim Reaper, but there’s something about using his sharp tongue as a defense mechanism that allows him to express some of his feelings. It’s something familiar and grounding, and after witnessing Jun-woong get hurt, he needs something like that.
Except…
Except by doing so, he allows Jun-woong to see his hand; he sees the worry and concern hidden behind clipped words. Because Jun-woong’s observant like that, and he knows Ryung-gu’s tells. He knows Ryung-gu.
What follows changes everything.
A tentative “Can I…” from Jun-woong.
A shocked but eager nod of agreement from Ryung-gu.
The solidification of it all—Ryung-gu’s feelings, his wants, his cravings.
There’s a faint metallic taste to the kiss due to Jun-woong’s split lip, but Ryung-gu pays it no mind. Instead, he falls into his feelings and this moment.
When Ryung-gu begins to process what happens as they separate, he immediately tries to build the walls back up, not realizing that they all have finally crumbled to dust for the first time in so long. It’s Jun-woong's steady devotion and fierce optimism that steadies him, bringing Ryung-gu back from the deep recesses of his mind and his worries.
He’s safe with Jun-woong. His heart is safe with him too. Because Jun-woong would never intentionally hurt Ryung-gu.
So he holds onto Jun-woong with both hands, refusing to let go.
And when Jun-woong asks him if he chooses to love—chooses to love him—Ryung-gu responds the only way he can.
“Yes.”
—
For all that Ryung-gu built up this idea that allowing himself to love Jun-woong would completely turn his life on its axis, he finds that that’s not the case.
Things don’t change unrecognizably, they instead just click into place. It’s as if an unfinished puzzle was just completed. The pieces were all there, but now the full picture can be seen.
A lot of their relationship stays the same, which does make Ryung-gu realize how foolish he was to think that their exchanges could be seen as platonic when they were so clearly more. Their jokes, banter, and snarky quips? Flirting. The hand-holding, hugging, and cuddling? Quite obvious displays of affection. The frequent drama viewing together and coffee outings? Practically dates.
He barely maintains a straight face when Ryeon tells him “I told you so” when she sees the happy couple for the first time.
Sue him, not everyone can be in touch with their feelings.
Anyway.
Some things do get added into their norm, though.
Their glances at each other are no longer longing and secretive. Now, they often catch the eye of the other and exchange fond smiles from across the room. Sometimes, Jun-woong will even send him a wink and a cheeky finger heart that leaves Ryung-gu rolling his eyes affectionately.
Their arms now interlink when they walk side-by-side. Jun-woong is particularly fond of putting his hand in the crook of Ryung-gu’s elbow, allowing himself to be escorted. He’ll often make some joke about not allowing chivalry to die that leaves Ryung-gu fighting not to smile. Though at Jun-woong’s joke that Ryung-gu can now delete that child tracking app on his phone because he has Ryung-gu around, this norm disappears for a week out of pettiness. (He still wonders how Jun-woong found out about that app. He blames Ryeon.)
Their trips to get coffee aren’t exclusively nighttime activities when one of them needs to decompress or talk after work. Now, they frequent coffee shops together, trying all sorts of new flavors and drinks for fun. They’ll even get all domestic and take sips from the other’s drink. They alternate between who makes coffee for them both at the office in the mornings. Ryung-gu only hopes that this doesn’t cause Jun-woong to have severe caffeine withdrawal when he wakes up.
Probably the best addition—and Ryung-gu’s personal favorite—is the kissing, which is not only limited to ones on the lips.
Jun-woong seems to be personally fond of forehead kisses. Ryung-gu has noticed that Jun-woong loves to capitalize on their height difference, planting soft kisses on his forehead in a quiet demonstration of it. He also likes the mutual reassurance that they’re together and they can do things like this now. This means Jun-woong will kiss Ryung-gu’s forehead whenever he can. They’re hugging? A soft peck on the forehead. Ryung-gu came up with an idea for a case they’re working on? An obnoxiously loud kiss on the forehead “as a treat.” When they part ways? A lingering goodbye forehead kiss.
It’s ridiculously endearing, especially when Ryung-gu sees the brilliant and delighted smile Jun-woong wears any time he does it. Though Jun-woong is an affectionate lover through and through, he seems to have a good understanding of Ryung-gu’s comfort level and when to maintain professionalism. The forehead kisses are a (welcomed) compromise between the two, allowing them to still be affectionate but not overbearingly so.
Ryung-gu doesn’t consider himself to be as affectionate of a lover, but he tries in his own ways.
It’s probably why he favors kissing Jun-woong’s hands—it’s not something ostentatious, but no less affectionate. He prefers the quiet moments where they’re working together, perhaps side-by-side, and Ryung-gu can intertwine their hands together, placing a gentle kiss on the back of Jun-woong’s hand before resuming the task. Or when Jun-woong goes to reach for something, only to be intercepted by Ryung-gu’s hand snatching it and giving a quick peck. Or how when Jun-woong fondly cups Ryung-gu’s face, all he needs to do is turn his head to press a quick kiss to the palm of Jun-woong’s hand.
It’s kind of alarming how easily they fall into this rhythm of being together, being a couple. How easily they can exchange affection and be, as Ryeon told them once, “disgusting.”
As a consequence of her words, she bore witness to Jun-woong hugging Ryung-gu from behind, swaying them gently, all while taunting Ryeon about how she encouraged this to happen. Which…interesting. Ryung-gu didn’t take Ryeon for the meddling type, especially not with romantic relationships among coworkers, but he supposes stranger things have happened.
(Exhibit A: the fact that he’s now in a romantic relationship.)
They really must have been obvious with their pining.
Getting together aside, what takes them a bit longer to share, though, is those three special words.
Not that Jun-woong or Ryung-gu don’t feel that way toward the other. It’s just…a big hurdle. Something that shouldn’t be thrown around lightly.
Ryung-gu rationalizes that they’re in the early days of this relationship. The honeymoon period, if you want to call it that. There’s no need to rush when it’s all still so new. It’ll happen when the time is right.
(But they don’t have time.)
As it turns out, the “right time” is none other than when they both least expect it.
Considering how most of their relationship so far has been spontaneous and unplanned, it’s almost a fitting instance.
They’re out in the Land of the Living on a date that Jun-woong coordinated. Jun-woong, being the wholehearted romantic that he is, asked a begrudging Ryung-gu specifically to wear something striped. Despite being out of practice with all things romantic, he immediately knew what Jun-woong was getting at—matching outfits. Nothing glaringly obvious, but just enough that others would link them together.
The sight of the two of them matching does funny, fluttery things to Ryung-gu’s heart.
And that’s where they are now, walking side-by-side in stripes through a park, Jun-woong’s hand nicely tucked into Ryung-gu’s arm. They can’t see any stars tonight through the light pollution of the city, but Ryung-gu doesn’t think they need to be out, not when the lights of the city twinkle so beautifully in Jun-woong’s eyes.
Unfortunately, he’s so caught up in admiring Jun-woong and all his illuminating handsomeness that he completely misses whatever tangent he’s been going on.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jun-woong asks, a playful pout on his lips. Ryung-gu awkwardly looks away when he says a quiet, “Yes.”
Jun-woong lets out a loud laugh and says, “Oh yeah? Prove it. What was I talking about?”
“Why should I have to tell you? You should know what you were talking about.”
“Because if you don’t I’ll…” He trails off, trying to think of a good threat.
“You’ll…?” Ryung-gu teases.
“I’ll…I won’t kiss you for a week!”
“Oh, I’m trembling in fear. How will I ever survive?” Ryung-gu responds sarcastically.
“I mean it, prepare yourself for a week of suffering as I direct my affection elsewhere,” Jun-woong swears.
“To who? Ms. Koo? You think she’ll allow you to even get close enough to lay a finger on her?” Ryung-gu taunts playfully, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Actually, go on ahead, I want to see her flip you over her shoulder.”
“You’re the worst” is the grumbled response.
“Love you too.”
Wait a moment.
What did he just say?
As soon as the words leave Ryung-gu’s mouth, he looks up in shock to see Jun-woong in a similar state. Oh no. No no no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
“What did you just say?” Jun-woong asks, his voice impossibly soft.
Ryung-gu panics.
“I said ‘screw you too’.”
“No…no, you said,” Jun-woong swallows hard before continuing, “You said you loved me.”
It’s taking every fiber in Ryung-gu’s being to keep the panic at bay. He clenches his fists in an attempt to get them to stop shaking.
“And? What about it? Maybe I did, you don’t have—”
His words are cut off by Jun-woong leaning in and kissing him. The panic subsides momentarily because surely if Jun-woong didn’t feel the same way, they wouldn’t be kissing right now. Right?
The rest of his thoughts become background noise as he melts into the kiss. His cheeks warm when he feels Jun-woong’s hands moving to cup his face. What a romantic sap.
Eventually, though, they have to pull back, and when they do, Jun-woong places a firm kiss on Ryung-gu’s forehead.
“What- What was that for?” Ryung-gu cringes at the stutter in his voice, but it fizzles out quickly when he notices Jun-woong’s smitten expression, full of adoration and something else.
“Nothing. Just. I love you too.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
Not for the first or last time in his life, Ryung-gu wants to smack himself in the head for how awful he is at talking like this and at expressing his feelings.
To his surprise, Jun-woong laughs at his emotional constipation. The sap probably finds it endearing, damn him.
“Yeah…it is nice, isn’t it?”
The eye contact they’re sharing right now is incredibly intense and weighted in its fondness, but not suffocating.
“Yes.”
They share another brief kiss.
“Think you could say it again, though? My hearing seems to be failing me,” Jun-woong teases. Ryung-gu simply rolls his eyes playfully.
“Would it make you happy?”
“Incredibly so.”
At that, there’s a smug smile on Jun-woong’s face, like he knows he’s already won because Ryung-gu is a weak, weak man for him. In retaliation, Ryung-gu lets the moment stretch before he gives in.
“I love you.”
The smugness that once graced Jun-woong face softens into something more love-struck and endeared. Ryung-gu can barely comprehend how he of all people can bring that look on Jun-woong’s face.
“I love you too,” Jun-woong reverently whispers in return. Ryung-gu can’t help but smile wide, allowing himself to get lost in these feelings and this moment.
Maybe he should let Jun-woong plan their dates more often if they’re going to be this sweet and heartwarming. Perks of dating someone who’s not-so-secretly a big romantic, Ryung-gu supposes.
“So when would you say you fell in love with me?” Jun-woong asks out of the blue.
“You’re ruining the moment.”
“No, I’m not! Come on, this is romantic stuff. So tell me: when was it?”
“I thought we were done with the Twenty Questions thing,” Ryung-gu grumbles, unable to stop looking at Jun-woong fondly.
“How about I tell you about when I fell for you? Will you tell me then?” Jun-woong asks.
“Guess you’ll have to try and see.”
It’s all the encouragement Jun-woong needs. Ryung-gu readies his heart for whatever heartstopping feelings he anticipates he’s about to experience. Jun-woong has that effect on him.
“Let’s see, for starters, you were crying in my arms like a damsel in distress—” Jun-woong starts jokingly.
And romantic moment over.
“No I wasn’t—” Ryung-gu interrupts, but is promptly cut off by Jun-woong’s hand covering his mouth.
“Shush, you’re ruining the moment.” Bold words coming from him, Ryung-gu thinks. “Besides, crying is a healthy method for processing and expressing your emotions. There’s no shame in it and I’m proud of you for allowing yourself to be so vulnerable to others.”
Ryung-gu moves the hand off his mouth, ignoring the way his ears turn bright red.
“Would you just get to the point already?” he grouches.
“I was about to before someone decided to interrupt. As I was saying, there you were, crying in my arms in an emotionally healthy way, and I realized that…” Jun-woong’s voice catches and he continues in a softer tone, all teasing gone, “I realized that I didn’t want to see you sad and that I wanted to take the hurt away. And I understood what people meant when they said that it hurts to see the ones you love suffering.”
With those words, Ryung-gu feels a deep burst of something in his chest that he’s now understanding and accepting to be none other than love. He can only imagine what kind of besotted expression he’s wearing right now.
“That moment in the hallway,” Ryung-gu confesses.
“Hm?”
“After you went all protective over those rumors about me being a bad person and we spoke in the hallway,” he elaborates, looking away awkwardly as he bears himself before Jun-woong. “That’s when I realized I love you. Because you saw something in me that I couldn’t, and you opened my eyes to what it could mean to be happy. And when I thought about what made me happy, I thought of you.”
Ryung-gu chances a look back at Jun-woong when the silence stretches on for too long, only to see a teary-eyed Jun-woong staring back at him.
“What’s that look on your face for?” he inquires, slightly concerned by the reaction.
Jun-woong immediately begins dabbing his eyes dry before actual tears can fall.
“I didn’t realize how soft you were.”
Ryung-gu scoffs at that.
“What? It’s true!” Jun-woong defends himself.
“Whatever you say. Are you happy now?” Ryung-gu asks.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
The two share another sappy smile, and Ryung-gu takes a moment to thank his past self for allowing his present self to experience moments like this one. He never thought he could be this happy again, not after all he’s done, and certainly not with somebody else.
Words can’t describe how lucky he feels to have Jun-woong in his life.
When they kiss once more under a starless sky, it feels like they have all the time in the world.
—
Except, as per usual, nothing ever goes according to Ryung-gu’s plans.
—
It’s Ryeon who tells him.
“The Director made a special order—”
No.
“—for him to return early—”
No.
“—effective immediately.”
They were supposed to have time.
“I’m sorry.”
—
Love is a… complicated thing.
Ryung-gu’s learned a lot about love from Jun-woong, and he finds he’s still learning more about it even without Jun-woong around.
Because love is learning to let go when, after possibly their most intense case yet, he finds out that Jun-woong’s time has been cut short.
It’s not allowing himself to crumble to the floor and cry at the news.
It’s refusing to allow Jun-woong to see him like that because he knows it’ll only make their goodbyes harder. It’s staying strong and barely holding in his tears for the one he loves even in the face of fear and uncertainty because he wants Jun-woong to leave without feeling bad about it. They knew this would happen, so he can be a pillar of support for Jun-woong one last time before they part.
Love is waiting 50 years for Jun-woong to come back. It’s being unable to find it within himself to feel any sort of regret for the time that they spent together, as short as it was.
Love is pausing now and then to admire and absorb his phone's home screen background—a silly selfie of the two of them in a retail store that Jun-woong took before they even got together. In it, a slightly blurred Jun-woong is all sunshine, smiles, and finger hearts while Ryung-gu looks ruffled and exasperated in the background, not even looking at the camera. Thinking back, Ryung-gu can't remember who he was talking to or what about, but Jun-woong looked so cute and endearing even in the low quality that it was the obvious choice for his phone background.
Love is wearing a stupid striped shirt alone but remembering the memories attached to it. When he wears it, he recalls all the tender feelings and confessions of love that happened while he wore it with Jun-woong. It’s a reminder that Jun-woong was here and that what they had was real. It soothes the ache in his chest ever-so-slightly.
Love is watching his dearest person from afar in the Land of the Living, but this time with the knowledge that they will meet again—fate will keep them tied together. It's knowing that this isn't permanent and that he's not the only one affected. It's remembering a proper goodbye and promises of love to cling to when the wait for Jun-woong to come back starts grating on Ryung-gu.
It’s watching Ryeon talk to Jun-woong in a chance encounter on a corporate building rooftop, who was doing what he does best and looking out for the safety and well-being of others. Pride fills Ryung-gu’s chest when he sees that Jun-woong, even without all his memories of being a half-and-half Grim Reaper, is still the caring, generous, and considerate guy Ryung-gu knows him to be.
Love is choosing to look forward to the future and not ruminating on the what-ifs. It’s holding the past close to his heart and living his life to the fullest in the present.
So yes, maybe love is painful and remorseful, but it’s also hopeful and rooted in the knowledge that it’s not goodbye forever.
And then, the wait is finally over.
He and Ryeon are both doing paperwork in the RM Team office together, working in silence, when they hear a familiar cadence in the hallway leading up to the office.
Park Joong-gil.
The man has made so many trips to the office in recent decades that it’s hard not to recognize his gait. And now that Ryung-gu knows of Ryeon’s past with Joong-gil, he doesn’t have to take more than a single guess as to why he frequents their office.
Ryung-gu simply gives Ryeon knowing looks and winks whenever the man comes to visit, rejoicing in the fact that he gets the chance to fluster her about her slowly rekindling relationship with Joong-gil just as she did all those years ago to him with Jun-woong.
That being said, imagine his surprise when Joong-gil comes not to see Ryeon, but him.
“Someone’s here to see you in the Director’s Garden,” Joong-gil says.
“What? Who?” Ryung-gu doesn’t think he was expecting someone. Was he?
Joong-gil simply raises his eyebrow and gives a slight smirk.
“It’s been 50 years.”
Ryung-gu will come to deny this happened later on, but he leaps out of his seat and gives Ryeon a pleading look, silently asking her if he could be excused. She simply gives him a quick nod.
And then he’s running out the door and mentally cursing how far away the garden is.
Back in the office, Ryeon smiles and shakes her head fondly at her Manager’s antics.
“I’m surprised he wasn’t counting down the days. I almost expected him to beat me to it,” Joong-gil comments.
“He was,” Ryeon confesses. “Guess he forgot to update the countdown after getting back from our last case.”
“To be young and in love again,” he playfully laments, sending the smile he reserves only for Ryeon her way.
“Who says it only has to be for young lovers?” she retorts.
The two share a fond gaze before Ryeon gets up from her desk.
“I suppose I should go too. I doubt he waited at the elevator for me.”
And honestly? She’s not wrong.
The idea of waiting for Ryeon and the two of them heading over together didn’t even cross Ryung-gu's mind.
Instead, as soon as Ryung-gu heard and remembered, he stopped at nothing to get to the garden as soon as possible, even running into a few people along the way. He only tosses a quick “Sorry!” over his shoulder to the Reapers he runs into, his mind too one-tracked to think of anything except for Jun-woong, Jun-woong, Jun-woong.
Finally, he finds himself outside the garden door and he hears some chatter from inside, though he can’t make out any of the words. He can just barely make out Jun-woong’s familiar voice, and that’s all he needs to send him diving for the door handles.
Ryung-gu swings the double doors open, not wanting to wait a moment longer.
And there he is, looking just as handsome and lovely as the day they parted.
Choi Jun-woong.
Ryung-gu’s vision blurs with tears as he makes his way toward Jun-woong, hardly believing that he’s finally here and that they’re finally together again.
All it takes is for Jun-woong to meet him halfway with an embrace and a flurry of kisses on his face for Ryung-gu’s heart to stop yearning and hurting.
The familiarity of it all sends tears down his cheeks.
Ryung-gu’s right where he belongs—in the arms of the one he cares for most.
This, he thinks to himself, is what love and happiness are.
And he has no intention of letting go of either anytime soon.
Never again.