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Something had told Hamin it was time to stop.
Whether it was the endless, ever-growing abundance of the Caligo army, drained of their identities, lunging at him and never quitting, or the depletion of his stamina from nonstop unarmed combat taking a severe toll on his body, he had to take the hint before it was too late. Because at that point, he wasn’t fighting them off. He was stalling, and he could only stall for so long.
It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done to battle Terry with nothing but his body and his skills. After what felt like a dozen lifetimes, Terry vanished from his sight, leaving the rest of the fighters to fill his place.
Had he won? Hamin doubted it with every bit of his soul. His disappearance was abnormal, and probably wouldn’t last very long, but he didn’t take it for granted.
After working to knock down the three swarming him, he finished off the last masked fighter by charging a simple but forceful kick to its stomach, and jogged over to check on the one closest, Han Noah. He nearly slipped from the rain that seemed to hit the ground in bullets before Hamin crouched down to survey his state. He looked awfully hurt, covered in dirt with bloodied wounds on both sides of his face, although they were gradually washing off from the heavy raindrops.
It didn’t help that the rain continued to pour. Hamin was cold to the bone, although he couldn’t have had it worse than the ones forced to lay in it.
“Hyung, are you okay?” Hamin asked, hovering his hand over Noah’s shoulder, then repeating himself when Noah didn’t stir. Lightly, he shook him, cursing and looking behind him. The warriors were multiplying by the minute, he could practically sense them inching towards them from all around the city. He didn’t even want to think about where Terry could be, and how much stronger he could be coming back.
Thunder boomed in the distance, and Hamin could’ve sworn the ground shook—or was that just the workings of an explosion? Whatever it was, it must’ve woken up Noah—he jolted, blinking his eyes before shielding them from the rainwater and groaning in pain. Hamin tried to get more words out, but then his gaze wandered farther to Eunho, burnt to a crisp, and Bamby, lying still, the only movement of his body being the blood dripping down his cheek, and then to Yejun, so far away, discarded in the rubble. The three were all unconscious, all well within harm’s reach.
Hamin gritted his teeth, huffing out a harsh breath. Keeping a close eye on the soulless warriors surrounding him, his fists clenched, squeezing and tightening, trying to get this ruthless, relentless fury under control. He needed to use it to beat them all, to fight this sickening feeling of defeat. Despite knowing they were just husks of forgotten characters, thoughtlessly following Caelum’s orders, he wanted nothing more than to go and personally smash every single Caligo’s head in. But there was no use in it. There was no chance of him reigning victorious, let alone getting out alive. It was a fight one versus hundreds.
A few fleeting seconds passed before Noah was thankfully more alert, albeit dazed and out of it. He took in the destroyed streets, the ruins of their vibrant city, their home. The prior events coming back to him was evident as his face distorted in stress, a worried frown setting in.
“Hamin-ah,” he rasped, straining to lift himself up unassisted, seemingly too overcome with determination to look him square in the eye, “you go to Yejun-ah.” Sharing the understanding that Noah would go help Bamby and Eunho, he nodded and didn’t waste a second, bolting to the indigo building Yejun was thrown up against. As he sprinted, Hamin spotted another warrior in the corner of his eye, and it was catching up to him—it was way too close for comfort. Despite this, he kept running and didn’t look back—his top priority was Yejun. Although he wasn’t the self-dubbed Cold Blooded Wolf King by a long shot, the sensation in his chest was like fire, and his legs burned hot, his whole body aching.
As he finally approached, he caught his breath as he surveyed Yejun’s body for any major injuries. It was easier to see, as the overhang of the building shielded him from the rain—the one and only good thing about his predicament. Fortunately, nothing appeared to be broken, but his back was sure to have been hurt. Also, his face was badly cut up, and much like his other bandmates, his suit was dirtied and torn. A shiver ran through him as Hamin’s heart snapped in two. He couldn’t let it get to him—at least not now. For the members, Hamin had to be strong and protect them with all his might, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
“Hyung,” he panted as he reached him, just in time to lunge at an incoming Caligo with a kick to the gut—one that took the air out of both of them. He had give or take a minute to spare before he was forced to face and grapple with another, so he took the small pocket of time to wake Yejun as gently as he could manage. Although he cringed at the thought of potentially hurting him, exigence forced him to crouch down and nudge his shoulder. A still moment passed for seconds too long.
“Hyung,” Hamin’s voice broke, shaking him a bit more as he tried to fight the tears threatening to well up. Redirecting his anxiety into anger, he bit his lip to stop it from quivering, his eyebrows creasing.
Finally, Yejun stirred awake, taking a few moments to fully come back to consciousness. Still somewhat catching his breath, Hamin began to collect himself, but he couldn’t conceal the worry spreading on his face. With Yejun already dazed, his confusion deepened as he glared into Hamin’s blurring eyes, but before he could say anything, the sounds of struggle rang out, grunts and zaps and—
The two glanced over to it. Hamin’s eyes widened.
It was a miracle that Eunho and Bamby were already awake and up on their feet like Noah in such a short time. But unfortunately, Terry was back, the purple glow of his suit just barely discernible, and he and his reinforcement were yet again attacking them. He could make out Noah attempting to zap another Caligo agent, throwing his hands up to expel his purplish power. He did succeed in striking it, but it was no use; it didn’t do anything, it didn’t make it disintegrate into tiny, lifeless cubes. Bamby wasn’t doing too well either. Without the protection of his gun, coupled with his injuries, there was only so much he could do to defend them. And Eunho was already so spent. It was clear he was doing his best, but his moves were sluggish and fatigued, an indication he didn’t have much fight left.
Alas, the Caligo troops carried on, unfazed by the members’ trying efforts. From the looks of it, they were winning by a landslide.
Hamin’s heart sank. But he expected this. He couldn’t freeze up now. He wouldn’t dare.
“Yejun hyung, we—” Hamin snapped his head back to him, “we need to hurry. Can you stand?” He asked, almost mechanically, and stood from his kneeling position.
“Yes, I think so. Are you—” Yejun nodded. The wound on his face was dripping crimson, Hamin noticed as his heart flipped once more. Yejun must have felt it run down his left cheek. He brought a careful hand to his face and smeared it, taking a look at his bloodied fingers to see the white of his gloves stained dark red. Hamin watched as the color drained from his face. He was skittish to blood especially. Hamin wanted to comfort him so badly…
But he had to stay focused. He owed it to Yejun, he owed it to everyone to keep them safe.
“I—I’m okay. But we need to go.”
“Yes,” Yejun stuttered out, frightened. He took the hand Hamin offered immediately.
“Please, be careful.” Hamin maneuvered around him, supporting him with a cautious arm around his back. Slowly, they made their way down the sidewalk to the others. It didn’t offer much stealth, but the roofs and piles of rubble were enough to keep them out of plain sight. In the distance, countless of black specks inched closer. It was jarring. There wasn’t a street that was empty. He couldn’t even see the vast range of neons that shone in the rain’s runoff. Speaking of the rain, it had weakened, and its light pattering against the ground would almost be calming to Hamin if it wasn’t for the full-on siege that presented itself around them.
But wait. Something was missing.
“Where did they go?” Yejun asked, his voice shaking.
Noah, Bamby, and Eunho were nowhere to be seen.
Before he could start seriously panicking, he searched the area, glancing in every direction. With a glance to the left, he was met with the sheerest of relief. Across the street, a flash of pink popped out of a tiny convenience store’s door. It looked like Bamby was waving, motioning for them to hurry over. It would have to be hasty, and at the rate they were going…
Hamin wasn’t going to take any chances.
“Please, tell me if it hurts.”
“What?”
On impulse, he scooped Yejun up by his legs and carried him like a groom would his bride. Yejun yelped, wrapping his arms around Hamin’s neck. Then, he sprinted, going straight through the only vacant path of asphalt. His eyes stared forward rather than at Yejun’s startled face and the litters of Caligo steadily spotting them and marching their way. Relying on adrenaline alone to keep his legs moving, he also tried to make the ride as smooth as he could manage.
And somehow, somehow, they made it across without being struck down.
As they reached the entrance at last, Eunho opened the door and slammed it shut, forcefully pushing his back against it. Hamin set Yejun down, and collapsed onto the glass window to catch his breath.
The five bandmates were reunited at last. Noah stood at the checkout counter, his shifty eyes watching outside the window, while Bamby leaned on it beside him, doing the same.
For a moment, they were all quiet, too preoccupied with their nerves to talk. In the dark store, there was nothing to be heard but the sound of Hamin’s panting and the outside ruckus. Eventually, Yejun broke the silence.
“Is everyone okay?” He asked.
Noah scoffed. Hamin watched as Eunho and Bamby didn’t even acknowledge their leader’s words—they must’ve been stuck in their heads, too anxious to do anything but stay on high alert.
“I know. Dumb question.” He shook his head.
“No, it’s…” Noah sighed, rubbing his temple. “We are for the most part, I think.”
“At least for now.” Bamby replied, meeting Yejun’s gaze.
Hamin could sense it. They could all probably sense it. The army sent by Caelum was bound to break the glass, blow them up, whatever—they would find some way to get to them. It was only a matter of time.
“Eunho-ya.” Bamby spoke evenly, his eyes downcast. At the sound of his name, Eunho came back from being zoned out.
“You did a good job. This was smart. But—”
“It will only suffice for so long.” Solemnly, Eunho finished his thought.
The hiding place was smart, because admittedly, they were all done defending themselves. Everyone was beyond exhausted. Hamin’s own legs were going numb from the soreness. Their abilities ranging from physical strength to powers were faded—that is to say if they weren’t already depleted. Plus, they were being hunted by Caelum, of all things, by a force that profoundly exceeded them in number, ordnance—maybe even willpower, too. It was clear that there was no winning this battle—at least not that night.
What are we gonna do?
Hamin straightened his back, and did nothing but stare down at the dull tiling of the floor. It shined with the cool, faint hues coming through the window. He wondered if it would be the last night he ever saw those pretty outside lights of the city, if it would be the last time he ever got to…
He grew nauseous. The questions just kept surging through his head. Did we finally hit a dead end? Is it time to give up? Is the group done for?
A gentle hand touched his shoulder. Yejun. Once again, Hamin peered at him, seeing a look of resolve, a certainty gleaming in his eyes. His mind went blank.
Yejun was their beacon, the one who showed them there was hope after all.
“Hamin-ah, don’t worry,” Yejun consoled him, sensing his worry, “I know what we can do.”
Then, he moved to Noah, and spoke to him in a hushed voice. Crossing his arms, Noah listened intently, before nodding without hesitation.
“Guys, grab all the food you can. Anything.” Taking leadership like he did best, he stiffly walked behind the counter and handed out some plastic bags to Hamin, Eunho, and Bamby. Quickly, they all obeyed, looting the store and picking out food and other sensible items that would last them. As they gathered the food, Noah sat on the counter, still and focused. It turned out that he was conserving his energy and preparing to use his power, because moments after, Yejun had them all gather close to him. Then, with utmost concentration, Noah casted a portal to their headquarters—specifically the little nook their five pets seeked shelter in—and gathered the little critters in his arms. Thank goodness, they were all safe and intact. Despite their antsy squeaks and exclaims, they stayed put, latching onto Noah’s arm.
“Come here, everyone. Hang on tight.”
Seemingly with the very last bit of his stamina, Noah teleported them all to their car. Without a word, the members carefully loaded in, Hamin taking the wheel, and they were off in less than five seconds.
It was decided that the best place to hide was their campsite on a planet near Terra.
They had only been there once; it was during the time they were just getting started with PLAVE. It wasn’t somewhere the members knew well, but it was familiar enough for them to be at ease. That being said… It wasn't much. The planet definitely wasn’t the most picturesque in the universe. It was dry and dusty, composed of reds and neutral tones—nothing like their vibrant city of striking buildings and neon lights. At least there were some pockets that reminded them of their home in Asterum, like the steady streams that flowed and rushed just a walk away, the balmy sun that gave them just enough light during the day, not to mention the recording equipment and instruments they had conveniently left there.
“Not bad,” hummed Noah, the first to wearily step out of their camper and take in their campsite.
“I can’t complain.” Eunho added, taking Noah’s assisting hand as he carefully stepped out as well. The others followed suit, Bamby the last one out.
Meymu, Moi, Miimu, Muhmo, and Meowmi had fallen asleep in the camper mid-trip. With the poor critters still really spooked from the ambush, the bandmates let them have all the rest they needed. They were more flexible than you would expect; Hamin hoped they would adapt nicely to the new, temporary home the little red planet offered.
Hamin breathed in the cool air. Finally, all of them were in a safe, comfortable environment again.
Above all, they couldn’t ask for much more from the newfound asylum; all it needed to do was be their safe haven.
On the short trip, they didn’t have a lot of time to go over plans. All that was established was that they needed to come up with some sort of ambush on Caligo, one that would take them by surprise. But they had escaped not even a few hours ago. For now, they would take some time to heal and to soothe the dwindling anxiety leftover from it. They weren’t sure how long they’d be residing here, but Hamin was prepared to channel his patience.
What did happen on the trip, however: they all changed into some fresh clothes that were stored in one of the trailer’s many cabinets. They loaded them up with the stuff they looted from that trusty store and a handful of things left over from their last visit. Their supplies were limited, but for now, they would make do with what they had.
Thankfully, tucked away under the trailer’s sink, their first aid kit was still stocked with everything they needed to tend to their injuries, and almost everyone got to clean and dress their wounds.
As you would expect, they had gotten beaten up pretty badly; all the members had at least a couple lacerations you could see right off the bat. Luckily, the most serious injuries were sprains—nothing that wouldn’t be healed in a couple of weeks. That was only physically, though. It was clear to see that Eunho was the most grief-stricken of them all. Though Terry was a close friend to him and Bamby, Eunho apparently had gotten the brunt of his betrayal, a front row seat to it. At least Bamby and Eunho had each other to lean on, and of course, they all had the others to lean on, too.
Insisting on giving Hamin a break from driving, Eunho took over the camper’s wheel at first. Later on in the trip, since he was one of the first done changing and done treating his injuries, Noah forced them to switch places, much to the members’ dismay. Thankfully, despite his fatigue and questionable skills, it wasn’t all that bad. The wide, deserted road left not much to fret about, and it was a smooth ride, all things considered.
(It wasn’t a cramped space in the trailer, but Hamin stayed close to the members during the brief trip. Reeling back from the prior danger and adrenaline rushes, they let their bodies and minds rest, taking up space on the tiny sofa and booth seating. There was no talk of Caligo, nor was there a mention of any plans.
Craving the normalcy of it, he stayed the closest to Yejun. His eyes followed his frame more than he intended, all except for when they changed. The members were obviously comfortable with each other, so they didn’t feel the need to awkwardly keep their backs toward one another. Bamby insisted on helping Eunho with his clothes, telling him not to strain so much, all the while wincing himself when he turned his neck wrong. For once, Bamby nagged him without much temper, exhaustion and worry saturating his voice instead. At the wheel, Noah talked tenderly to Moi and Muhmo, who were doing their best to pick out a shirt for him, toddling over and climbing up to the dashboard. They tried to get him to take his eyes off the road to look at the others. At his feet, Miimu, Meymu, and Meowmi somehow managed to hold up a flannel with their little arms. It was funny to see.
Yet something else begged Hamin’s attention—the sight of the pale, bruised skin of Yejun’s back.
Buttoning up his own shirt with uneasy hands, Hamin hoped he was being careful. He noticed the way he rigidly moved about, along with the pink and red blotches scattered across his skin. He would’ve offered to help, but he couldn’t find the words to. Unable to tear his eyes off of Yejun as he buttoned his pants, Hamin’s heart picked up speed, and he swallowed as his mouth went dry. Yejun looked over to him.
Hamin averted his eyes.
Still, he could sense Yejun’s gaze on him moments after. He wanted to meet his eyes, but first, he needed to focus on calming his heart rate and soothing his nerves. They must’ve been brought about seeing the members in so much pain. It must have been the concern that stirred his stomach and made him feel this way.)
After they got to stretch their legs and settle in, the members chatted and enjoyed the fresh air outside, sitting in the chairs and already starting to goof around with the musical equipment and instruments. But before Yejun could sit down at the table with the microphone, Hamin tugged on his arm, dragging him all the way into the trailer and sitting him down in the booth. They slid into the middle of the seat, their legs threatening to bump into each other. The first aid kit was still open on the table, the trash left by bandages and gauze dispersed atop it. Although they had all helped each other, Yejun insisted on playing doctor the most, leaving him with no time to properly dress his own wounds. Hamin soaked some gauze with water, then the washcloth with a bit of soap.
“Do I get the special Yu Hamin medical service?”
“Yes. I fear you don’t get a choice, Yejun-ie hyung. Wiping your wound with water and calling it a day doesn’t count as proper treatment.” Granted, they had already arrived before Yejun could get fussed over. But still, he regarded the bandmates’ injuries above his own. That really bothered Hamin.
“Aish—” Yejun sucked air through his teeth when he brought the cloth to his cheekbone, cleaning the outside of his cut. It must’ve gotten irritated by the contact. Hamin pulled it away, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t worry,” Yejun shook his head, “I appreciate you doing this for me, Hamin-ah.”
“It's the least I could do after…” He trailed off, trying to gather up all the things he’d done for them in his mind. But something distracted him—the deafening silence. After the background noise that was the destruction of Asterum, the faint explosions, and the tumbling of broken buildings, the sound of nothing but the muffled chatter outside their camper was chilling. Nice, but eerie. It made him hyper-aware of his senses, of the deep ache in his hands, the soreness in his limbs. Everything is so still on this planet.
“Hamin-ie,” Yejun snapped him out of his daze, grounding him, “did you know you’re still bleeding too?” He asked, an unfaltering concern in his eyes. He reached his hand to Hamin’s mouth, barely swiping his thumb over the busted part of his lip, a featherlight touch that was the only thing he could feel.
“Does it hurt?”
Hamin shook his head, because a verbal response seemed all too hard to form with the way he was holding his breath. Yejun was still delicately cupping his cheek, his palm not quite hovering, the pads of his fingers just barely touching his skin. The way Yejun was looking at him made his heart hurt. His expressive blue eyes were still the clearest, kindest he’d ever seen.
After a dizzying moment, Yejun stripped the warmth from his face, pulling his hand away to grab the gauze and cloth too. But Hamin didn’t want Yejun to coddle him, he wanted to coddle Yejun. It was the least of what he deserved from him.
“Yejun-ie hyung,” he took it from him, enveloping his hands, “please, don’t worry about me. I got hurt the least.”
Hamin carried on, putting a bandage over his first cut. After soaking the new piece of gauze under the sink, he pushed Yejun’s blue hair out of the way to reveal the deep gash above his eyebrow—the blood had dried by now. He hoped it didn’t hurt him too much, wiping it softly. Yejun squinted, now giving the faintest reaction to the pain.
“How’s your back?” Hamin asked as he unwrapped a new, longer bandage.
“Um, it’s fine. It hurts if I turn wrong, but I’m sure I’ll be okay as long as I move carefully.”
“True. And you need rest, most importantly.” Hamin reminded him, even though he suspected Yejun already knew it. He got up to clean the washcloth. Running it under the faucet, Hamin blinked, staring at the weak flow of water, the suds fading out. It was water he wouldn’t have to be looking at if things had turned out differently.
No, they probably couldn’t have defeated those Caligo troops no matter how hard they tried. It was a surprise to them all. Even so, Hamin should have gotten there earlier. If he did, Yejun wouldn’t have the bruises peppering his aching back. He wouldn’t have the wounds on his face, the blood that seeped out of them.
Oh. By the time Hamin shut off the faucet, the cloth was so soaked through that he had to wring it out.
He plopped down in his seat again, sliding close to Yejun. Suddenly, he was met with a damp cloth dabbing his lip, then at the bridge of his nose. After, a small band-aid was smoothed down onto it. A sneak attack.
“Ahh, so cute,” Yejun lit up with a fond grin, “you chose the cutest place to get a cut.”
At that, Hamin laughed. He felt a big chunk of his stress subside. It was his first genuine laugh since they got there.
Then, gingerly, he went ahead and put the bandage on Yejun’s last wound. He was about to speak, maybe to thank him again, before he got distracted at the sight of two of their pets waddling their way. It looked like they were the first ones to wake up.
“Oh, look! We have company.”
Without help, Meowmi and Meymu climbed their way onto the seat and onto the tabletop. Hamin wasn’t sure on how they managed to do that, but he didn’t think anything of it. The two looked at Yejun and Hamin, their little eyes sparkling, and Meowmi, the poor thing, pouted at Yejun. Even with his natural indifferent expression, you could tell he was very worried—both him and Meymu had grown so attached to them.
“It’s okay, Meowmi. We’re all safe now. Don’t stress your little head.” Yejun pet them both, talking to them in a low, soothing voice.
Hamin swallowed, his chest tightening. The sight was so precious to him; it warmed his heart. So then why did he feel like he was suffocating?
“That goes to you too, Hamin-ie.” He glanced up to him through his eyelashes. It was apparently Hamin’s turn now—Yejun stroked his black hair, the side of his mouth upturning.
Exhaling, Hamin’s half-lidded eyes watched Yejun, a grateful smile growing and replacing his frown. By the touch of his hand on him alone, the affectionate threading of fingers through his hair, the tension in his body dissipated.
Were Yejun’s eyes glowing or was that just the weird lighting of the trailer?
The door swung open—
“Hey, you two ready to eat yet?” Eunho asked, popping his head through. They snapped their head to him, Yejun swiftly retracting his hand. Meymu and Meowmi lit up at the sight of him, slowly hopping back down and chasing each other out the door.
“Oh—yes, of course!” Yejun stood up, a little too fast judging by the way he grimaced. As he moved past him, Hamin caught his wrist.
“Are you sure you’re okay, hyung?”
Yejun’s eyes softened. “I’m as good as we all are. Honestly, I’m more worried about you.”
“What? Why?”
“Ah, Hamin-ie,” he covered his hand, giving it a squeeze, “because worry too much.”
“Thank you, again, Hamin-ah. Let’s go eat, okay?” Yejun pulled him out of the seat. Of course, Hamin let him.
“Okay.”
It was dinner time, or they guessed it was. They weren’t adjusted to the new time, but everyone was hungry, and that was an adequate indicator. After the satisfying meal, they unwound, talking and still playing around with the radio and mic. By the time night began to fall, Bamby was teaching Yejun and Eunho some choreo for the fun of it—one that was easier on the body, of course. Also, at the table, Hamin was painting Noah’s nails dark purple, as Moi had found a bottle of it hidden somewhere in the camper. By then, all the critters had gone to sleep. With only each other to keep themselves entertained, they made the most of their time. As he painted Noah’s nails, he also rambled a lot, a member occasionally joining in to make a comment. Hamin was shocked at how much he could talk while being so drained. Honestly, he started to tune him out until his sentence halted.
Apparently, Noah got an idea.
“Wait,” he tried to move, causing Hamin to nearly mess up on the paint job of his ring fingernail, “we have all this equipment and instruments, right?”
“Yeah,” the three individually answered, turning and giving their attention.
“We should totally make a song while we’re here!” Noah couldn’t hold still, the excitement of the suggestion energizing him. The four took it in, lighting up with intrigued smiles.
“That would be perfect!” Bamby exclaimed. “Eunho-ya wouldn’t be able to complain about being bored anymore.”
Eunho chuckled, crossing his arms, “Right. Well, I also think it’s a great idea. I can hear the music now…”
“By the way,” Noah continued, “we should figure out where everyone is going to sleep. We have the sleeping bags, but one is missing, and…” Thankfully, those weren’t their only options. There were also the bunk beds in the trailer and the two sofas, one inside and one outside. Hamin didn’t quite remember the sleeping arrangements of last time, and he knew they couldn’t have been that bad. But it was different considering the circumstances of the members.
“I assume most of you wouldn’t want to sleep on the ground. Or even the trailer’s floor for that matter.”
“The ones who got hurt the most should take the beds and couches.” Hamin said as he finished up Noah’s last nail.
“Can I call dibs on the top bunk?” Eunho asked, raising his hand politely. With the exception of Hamin, they all discussed and worked out the sleeping arrangements.
“So, where will you sleep, Hamin-ah?” Yejun asked after they assigned the spots for everyone else.
“I’ll take a sleeping bag… wherever will be fine. The floor, out here.” That response satisfied them enough, or at least he hoped it did. He avoided eye contact, following Noah and standing up from the table as he did. The discussion probably meant they were going to head to sleep soon—everyone needed their rest after all. Still chattering, the bandmates began to walk into the trailer.
What if they find us?
Yet Hamin didn’t feel like sleeping.
Before he could stop them, the words came out of his mouth.
“But,” he piped up, the other four turning behind them to listen, “I think I should stay up tonight… just to make sure that we’re all safe.”
Yejun held a firm gaze on Hamin, his eyebrows furrowing as he processed his words. As he walked up to him, he was the first to speak up.
“That’s sweet of you, Hamin-ie, but if anything, I should be the one to do that. I’m responsible for this group.”
“Hyung, I respect that, but you got and the others got the most hurt today…” Hamin instinctively grabbed his hands, looking down at his own fingers as they enveloped Yejun’s. He ducked his head, his heartbeat picking up speed. “It’s only fair that—”
“Nonsense, Hamin-ah. If it makes you feel better, you can. But I’d have no choice but to join you.”
“Huh?”
“Yeline to the rescue! Thank you both. I have a feeling I’m gonna need a lot of beauty sleep tonight…” Noah sighed, ultimately stepping into the camper.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Noah hyung.” Eunho remarked teasingly, patting him on the back. The three went in and most likely started getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, Yejun stayed out with Hamin. He lightly laughed at Hamin’s shock, fondly shaking his head. He must’ve already known he wouldn’t have been able to change his mind about staying up. He really wanted Yejun to get rest too, but… if Yejun couldn’t sway Hamin, he probably couldn’t sway Yejun either.
So, after they changed into pajamas, they lounged on the orange couch and allowed the other members to rest with the assurance they’d be on guard. A spare gray blanket was thrown across their legs, one that had so graciously been given to them by Noah. Despite the coolness of the air and the absence of a warm bed, Hamin didn’t mind it at all. Actually, if he was honest, he thought it was just as good as sleep. Just being next to Yejun was so nice. It was like floating on your back in the ocean. It was relaxing and healing, and no matter where the waves took him, he was content to go there.
A few undisturbed minutes went by. The coast was clear as day. Yejun stayed silent, his eyebrows stuck slightly scrunching together. His eyes stared forward; it was an expression he made when he was deep in thought.
“Is something on your mind, hyung?” Hamin softly asked him.
“Hmm? Ah,” he snapped back to awareness, grinning apologetically, “I was just thinking about how it must be back in Asterum. Everything was so… devastated. It’s sad.”
Hamin frowned, mirroring Yejun’s own gloomy expression.
“At least we’re okay.” He patted Hamin’s shoulder, like he was trying to console him instead of his own self.
“Yes. At least we’re safe.” Hamin nodded his head, attempting a smile.
For now.
He exhaled, ignoring the creeping anxiety settling in his stomach. What was the use in thinking about that when he was already doing everything he could to keep them safe? With no sign of danger in sight, Hamin allowed himself to glare up at the blues and purples that painted the night sky. He had to admit how cool it was—the utter tranquility of the red planet, the distinct beauty of the stars. They were so visible. The view of them from Asterum wasn’t nearly as vivid.
Yejun must’ve been fascinated by them too, because after a prolonged glare into the sky, he muttered, “I have an idea.” Then, he got up and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.
“Yejun hyung…?” Hamin mumbled.
“It’s too pretty not to.” He approached the ladder to the trailer. “We’ll just have to keep our voices down.”
“You need to be careful, hyung!” He whisper-yelled at him, watching him already climb up.
“It’s okay!”
Hamin watched nervously as Yejun took his time up the ladder before reluctantly going up too, doing his best not to shake the vehicle. He couldn’t refuse Yejun’s idea, no matter how uncomfortable it was going to be up there—
Oh, and there it was: the missing sleeping bag. Yejun, suppressing his laugh, huffed with joy—they lucked out. Spreading out the sleeping bag to be big enough for the both of them, Yejun leisurely laid down on his back and exhaled. On the blue quilt-like cushion, a Hamin-sized space was left beside him.
“Just relax with me for a little bit, Hamin-ie. Can’t you do that?” Yejun pleaded.
It was a better view from up there, anyway. So he laid down next to him, pulled the blanket up to their chests, and they stargazed for a bit.
“I think that’s Terra.” Yejun whispered, pointing above them to a silvery ball glowing in the glittering sky.
“No way that’s Terra…” Hamin couldn’t believe it, but the chance was too high to neglect.
“Then, is that Asterum?” He pointed out the shining star close to what seemed to be Terra. It was mesmerizing how it stood out brighter than all of the others.
“Hmm…” Yejun’s eyebrows scrunched, “I don’t know. Could be.” He stifled a giggle.
“Not very informed on astronomy, are we?” Hamin cheekily asked.
“No… but I’m not clueless! I know a few bits and pieces. Irrelevant things.”
“Like?”
Yejun turned to his side, hopefully in a comfortable enough position, propping his head on his hand. Hamin mirrored him so their bodies faced one another.
“Well,” he started, his voice still hushed but excited, “apparently the universe is always expanding, and it never will stop.”
“I can’t tell if that’s good or not.”
“Who can say?” Yejun shrugged, shaking his head—he was beaming, and it was infectious to Hamin. “And… something about a star cluster. The Seven Sisters, I believe? You can only see six stars but it’s actually more than a thousand.”
Hamin hummed, lying back down, feeling the bandage on his nose.
“That sounds poetic.”
“Definitely. Anything can be poetic if you put your mind to it.”
With their words lingering in the air, Yejun laid down, too. More silence greeted them, but Hamin was more than content with it. He was reminded once more of how quieter it was on the planet. Stiller. Even the sunsets were different than on Asterum. Earlier, he had watched the sun near the horizon, how the sky grew almost purple in hue, appearing as if a foggy film stretched itself across it.
He had misjudged this place.
“I haven’t been this calm since I was a young Vitaexcubo.” Hamin muttered through his grin.
“I know, right? This planet, this night…” Yejun, ever the poet, went on, “it has a way of making you feel, not lifeless but… rudimentary. Maybe like the sun, with no real duties other than just to exist. Yet, the sun’s existence is enough to keep the entire solar system at ease.”
“Woah…” In awe, Hamin couldn’t look away from the leader. His mouth went agape. Fondness made itself known in his chest—it bloomed inside of his chest at the close sight of Yejun’s smile, so at peace, devoid of hardship and fatigue as long as he was admiring the scenery, and as long as he was at Hamin’s side.
“It is quite nice,” Hamin whispered, though despite the observation, he didn’t care for the stars at that moment, nor did he care about the mystical gradient above him. The one that moved him to fascination was right beside him.
But what was it about Yejun that made his heart seize? Was it the solace of his presence? Yejun had given him quite the scare during the attack. Knowing he was safe was very important to him. Or was it just his presence itself? Maybe it was his eyes. They sparkled like a glittering sea on a summer’s day, or the clarity of them, the vulnerability they allowed. Even then, you could tell he was so absorbed by the night sky; he couldn’t take them off of the constellations hanging above.
Hamin understood that entirely. But deep inside, all he wanted was Yejun’s eyes on him.
Airily, Yejun chuckled, looking to him again, “I’m really inspired, as you can tell.” Him and his producer mindset—he was so creative. The song they would make with the others was sure to be fantastic.
“Me too. It’s beautiful.” Hamin didn’t break their eye contact. He had missed Yejun’s gaze on him after all.
Then, Hamin slipped up. He couldn’t keep his own eyes from trailing down Yejun’s lovely face… until they lingered on his lips. The side of his pink mouth was barely raised, the ghost of his smile leftover. Yejun kept staring, too.
He gulped, turning his head—the moment eventually passed. What was wrong with him? They resumed stargazing. Hamin hoped Yejun didn’t feel the change in the air that he felt. He didn’t want it to be weird between them… So, why did he make it weird?
Abruptly, Hamin heard the sound of rustling.
Instantly, he sat up, checking the surroundings, and double-checking the same spots after that. Hamin could hear his heart pound in his chest as he frantically searched for whatever the hell made that noise. But, wait, were there blind spots he couldn’t see? He began to get up when—
“Hamin-ah,” Yejun placed a hand on his shoulder, sitting up too, “I think it was the wind. We’re good.”
“Are you sure?” His voice wavered.
“Yes. See the trees? It was probably the trees.”
Seconds after, the wind picked up again, rustling the tree leaves ahead of them. Letting out a sigh, Hamin closed his eyes and waited for the relief to pass over him. Unfortunately, it didn’t. He still felt overwhelmed. From behind him, Yejun rubbed comforting circles around his back. Hamin wished it helped more than it did.
“Hamin-ie, I promise you—”
“It makes me so mad.” Hamin cut him off under his breath. He didn’t mean to be rude, but for once, his emotions were steering his words.
“What? What does, Hamin-ie?” He asked with concern.
“It’s just—It’s not fair. It’s not fair that my hyungs have to hide out here, and that the MMMM have to be frightened. Why can’t we just be left alone?” His back was hunched over. He balled his fists when his hands weren’t fidgeting in his lap.
“I know. It makes me upset, too, more than you can imagine.”
It didn’t just make Hamin mad, though. It made him sick, because it was such a preventable thing. If only Hamin had been a little faster, a little stronger, maybe they wouldn’t have had to be hiding out like sitting ducks, or Caligo wouldn't have had such an impact on Asterum, on their health. He knew it wasn’t worth it to dwell on the past, but the whole ordeal just got in his head.
The thing was, Hamin wanted to be angry about it. He would rather be blinded with rage, because at least it gave him motivation, it gave him drive. Yet instead, the feeling steadily building up inside of him was despair. Defeat. It ran deeper with every passing second of being on that damn planet.
“If only I arrived there sooner…”
Hamin’s version blurred.
He had never been one to cry. It came natural to him to push it down, to leave the sorrow for later. But before he could stop them, the tears were happening, and they came dripping down his cheeks beyond his control. He ducked his head, sniffling.
“No, Hamin-ah,” Yejun scooted up and wrapped his arms around him, “you’re gonna make me cry.”
So, Yejun held him dearly as he tried to keep it down—Hamin was usually good at silently crying, but that night, his body forgot all about how to do that. The tears choked him up. His breath hiccuped as he allowed all his tears to fall down. Yejun pulled away for a minute to make eye contact.
“My Hamin-ie,” He brought his hands to Hamin’s wet face, his voice deep and laced with empathy, "please, please, don't blame yourself. You’re only one person. You did everything you could, and it was more than enough.”
“I know, but—”
“It could’ve been so much worse. And look at us now: we’re all in one piece.”
“Mostly.” He stuttered through the response, frowning as more tears poured. He let Yejun cradle him as he wept, mashing his face into his silk nightshirt. With Hamin’s big frame against him, Yejun coaxed them to lay down together, all the while still stroking his back, gently reassuring him as he let it all out.
“We’re all safe, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but for how long? We can’t hide here forever, hyung. It’s… I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Why apologize when it’s not your fault? Listen, we have each other, and we’ll get through it with the help of everyone. I promise you we will.”
With Yejun’s kind whispers and his firm yet comforting strokes of Hamin’s back, the flow of tears let up.
“You’ve always saved us, Hamin-ie,” Yejun wiped the last of his tears away, his palm lingering on his cheek, “you’re more than enough. You know you’re the world to me, Hamin-ah. You are to all of us.”
With Yejun’s arms still draped around him, Hamin breathed in, finally starting to calm down. The cold of the night clung to his dampened face, though most of his tears had already been wiped away on Yejun’s shirt.
Despite his composure, Yejun didn’t let go of him.
Hamim hugged him tighter. This was everything to him.
It was true that Hamin wasn’t one for poetry; he wasn’t the producing genius as Yejun was. Nevertheless, he wished he could express himself adequately, he wished he could express his gratitude in a way that properly conveyed the intensity of his feelings. But for now, he hoped that his embrace was enough.
Yejun hummed with it, flat on his back, seeming to approve of it.
As he laid with him in the resonating silence, Hamin was relieved at last. Maybe they really were safe there. But if the Caligo officers were to somehow pop up there and then, he would fight tooth and nail all over again if it meant the safety of Yejun. And his bandmates. He quietly recognized he was wholeheartedly devoted to him—to them.
What constituted devotion? He wondered, peeking up at Yejun’s sleepy, wandering eyes. Was it the unyielding choice to lay your life down for someone? Or was it much simpler than that? He didn’t know. Nonetheless, Hamin was sure of his devotion to him.
And the other members. Obviously.
Then, Hamin yawned—how could another person be so comfortable? It might’ve been better than his own bed in Asterum. Yejun’s own eyes were blinking slowly but refusing to fall shut. At Hamin’s yawn, he giggled and sighed with content.
“I could fall asleep like this.”
“Me too, actually.” Yejun replied. “That’s good. You need to sleep. Would it be okay if we stayed like this?”
I’d prefer it.
“Really? It’s more than okay.” He snuggled up to him, bringing the blanket up to their shoulders. It was thin, but the warmth radiating from Yejun was all he needed.
“Okay, then. Get some sleep, my Hamin-ie. I can tell you need it.”
“Right,” he pouted though an involuntary smile, “so do you, hyung. Try not to toss and turn so much.”
“No promises.” Yejun murmured, a smile still audible in his tired voice.
It was hazy, but the two were back in Asterum, cuddling in Yejun’s bed. He was familiar with being in it, as it came easier to just sleep over at his place most nights out. However, they had never been this close together in it.
Specifically, Hamin was spooning him.
What they were wearing was a blur. From behind, he couldn’t quite make out Yejun’s clothes—was he wearing anything at all? Hamin’s own nightshirt was sneaking up his back. He was thankful for it just being a black t-shirt, because for some reason, he was burning up.
They were both awake. The sun came through the window in sharp, blinding rays. Most likely, it had been the thing to wake them up, or rather it might’ve been the wind chimes faintly clanging outside.
Hamin was touching him. It was like relieving an itch touching Yejun the way he wanted to.
First, Hamin’s fingers dragged over his abdomen. He could feel Yejun’s stomach clench the slightest bit. Wrapping his hands around his hips, he then trailed his fingers until they met in the middle, and explored his hands up and down his torso. They were painstaking touches with the sole purpose of driving Yejun crazy. All the while, Hamin listened and watched for the reactions he was getting out of him. He drank in every hitch of his breath, every shudder, every shift of his hips. He drank in as much as he could.
Then, Hamin trailed his hand up his chest, consumed with the need to feel him more. When he grazed his pecs, Yejun held his breath, muffling a gasp—it filled him with a desperate kind of longing, one he couldn’t shake with just his caresses.
After that, he went up to his neck, held the underside of his jaw, and whispered in his ear.
“Yejun-ie hyung,” Hamin’s breath hit his skin, “does your back still hurt?”
“Hamin-ah,” Yejun shivered, “you’re making me…”
“What? What am I making you?”
“Just keep going… please.”
Taking his time, Hamin continued, trailing his hands down lower, down to his hips. He traced the band of his boxers with two fingers, circling around a couple times. When his arm brushed up against his tailbone, Yejun tensed up even more. Finally, Hamin couldn’t help himself. His fingers stopped just above his groin.
Gutturally, Yejun groaned. When he barely ghosted his wrist over his crotch, his hips jerked. It drew a long moan out of him, almost a whine. Hamin could hear his lust, and he could sense how Yejun craved just as much as he did.
He wanted to provoke him further. He wanted to hear more sounds spilling out of him. He wanted more fervid desire accumulating in Yejun until it couldn’t be contained.
Without warning, Yejun flipped around. He bunched Hamin’s shirt up, pulling him closer and bringing their lips together. At first, it was a featherlight contact, one that barely moved his own lips.
Yejun’s eyes were closed, but Hamin’s weren’t. He was frozen, waiting for Hamin to make the final move, to crash their lips together and not look back.
Hamin buzzed with excitement. But he didn’t kiss him just yet. A strong urge came over him, an urge to make his feelings known.
“Yejun hyung?”
Yejun’s eyes fluttered open.
“I love you.”
Blissfully, he smiled at the confession.
“I love you too, Hamin-ah.”
But did Yejun really understand what he meant with those three words? Did he truly know the way Hamin loved him?
Those questions be damned—he couldn’t wait any longer, finally straddling Yejun and kissing him.
With Yejun on his back, they kissed and kissed until they were breathless, until Hamin’s lips felt bruised. Weird, the cut on the side of his mouth didn’t hurt at all. The only thing his body ached with was desire.
As he left kisses on Yejun’s neck, Hamin noticed something odd. It was strange—he made no noise anymore, his body went slack from under him. Like a guitar out of tune, something was off.
He came up for air, lightly calling his name. Yet when he did, Hamin didn’t see him.
Yejun’s face was gone. It was completely covered, and it replaced with a black Caligo’s helmet.
Hamin woke up, squinting at the brightness invading his eyesight. About to rub the sleepiness away from his face, he tried to move his arm when he noticed—
Yejun. Hamin’s breath halted. He was sleeping soundly, all curled up, his head now on Hamin’s chest. The man tended to be unpredictable in his sleep, so he wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Or his surprise was actually something else? Delight, perhaps? Waking up together… Hamin never knew how much he wanted to do that. It became pretty clear after that dream of his…
Shit.
That dream. Despite being so warm, he had a full-body shudder, those wild images of Yejun in his bed still fresh on his mind. Hamin couldn’t believe that last one of him looking like Terry was actually the tamest of them all. He squeezed his eyes shut. It couldn’t have meant anything.
Yeah, right. Who was he kidding anymore?
The truth was that Yu Hamin loved Nam Yejun more than he had loved anything else in his life. He wasn’t sure when he began to. Maybe since the first day they met.
With the realization, Hamin’s face burned hot, and it was unfortunately not due to the weather. His body went stiff under Yejun’s weight, and he wanted nothing more than to leave. Yet, at the same time, he would’ve rather died than wake Yejun. Although he probably should’ve, considering his position—he didn’t know how much strain it was putting on his injury.
As if he was awoken by Hamin’s loud thoughts, Yejun stirred, his nose nudging just under his chin, his eyelashes brushed against his cheek. Hamin hoped so badly he couldn’t hear the way his heart rate sped up. Gently, he rose from the sleeping bag. He had to go and get himself under control.
“Hamin-ah,” his heart dropped at the sound of the leader’s deep tone, “lay back down. We have plenty of time to rest, so let’s use it.”
“I should—”
“Come on,” Yejun tugged at his sleeve, his gravelly voice so tired, so warm, “it’s cold without you.” Hamin giggled. He was so endearing even half-asleep.
Hamin couldn’t deny him if he tried.
Laying back down, he outstretched an arm, shielding the sun from Yejun’s face. He noticed the effort with a smirk and pulled him in closer, wrapping his arms around neck.
“Yejun hyung, your—”
“I’ll be fine. You’re too comfy for me to care.”
They cuddled some more, basking in the sunrise’s dim light. The other members were sure to be getting up soon, too, eager to start composing their song. Just for that, Hamin made sure to savor each second he had that morning. Also, he didn’t once stress over the ambush and the risk the future could bring. Yes, the attack had really scared him—it could’ve gone so much worse. But thankfully, everything turned out okay. Although he didn’t know what lay ahead for them, Hamin knew that with his incredible bandmates, they would all be fine.
With a pleased exhale, he put it out of mind and remembered what Yejun told him last night.
You know you’re the world to me, Hamin-ah.
Among other things… but he especially liked that phrase from him. Maybe one day Hamin would tell him some of the same, meaningful things too, but for now, he settled for the sweet things that came to mind effortlessly.
“You’re really cute, hyung.”
Yejun huffed a laugh, his cheeks subtly tinging pink like the perfect hue of the sunrise. “So are you.”
Until the inevitable awakening of their fellow members, Yejun continued to rest his eyes, not letting Hamin free from his tight embrace.
It was fine though. Hamin was more than happy to let him do so.