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duachai · 18 days ago

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Till' The World Ends - PARK CHANYEONG | SWEET HOME

In the midst of a monstrous apocalypse, former idol M/n is rescued by the military and brought to a safe base where protector Park Chanyeong takes him under his wing.

Your soul's half alive, and I'll be by your side, I've come to take you there, show you how to care

♱ PAIRING : PARK CHANYEONG (JUNG JINYOUNG) X MALE READER ♱ CONTENT WARNING : Slightly detailed gore, SPOLIERS (I guess?) ♱ AUTHOR'S NOTE : I want to note I've only seen season 1-2 of this show, so I'm quite behind so if this makes no sense contextually that's why lol. ♱ REQUESTED : YES (ANON) - Can you pleaseseee write something for Private Park Chan-young from Sweet Home? Maybe something like male reader gets picked up off the street and becomes one of the soldiers along side of him and there's this big fight with the monsters and he confesses his love. Maybe also reader was and idol too. Thank you!!

LINKS : Wattpad

The air outside was heavy, thick with the stench of blood and decay. M/n stumbled through the wreckage, his breaths ragged as he tried to keep moving. His jacket was torn, caked in grime, and he clutched a makeshift weapon; a rusted pipe he’d picked up days ago. The world had long since crumbled into chaos, but M/n had refused to let it break him. Determined, but weary, he fought to keep going.

The faint roar of an engine in the distance made him freeze. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned, squinting against the setting sun. A military vehicle approached, its headlights cutting through the haze. For a moment, hope flickered in his chest; a dangerous, fragile thing. M/n raised his hands, signaling for them to stop. He wasn’t sure if they’d help or just run him over, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

The vehicle came to a halt. Soldiers spilled out, their weapons drawn, faces hardened. One of them barked, “Stay where you are! Hands where we can see them!”

“I’m not infected!” M/n shouted, his voice hoarse. He dropped the pipe and raised his hands higher. “I swear, I’m clean!”

The soldiers exchanged glances, their expressions skeptical. One of them, a tall man with a scar running down his jaw, muttered, “We can’t take risks. We’re stretched too thin as it is.”

“Please,” M/n pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’ve been out here for weeks. I just- please, don’t leave me out here.”

The scarred soldier scoffed, gesturing to the others. “We don’t have room for strays. Move out.”

Before they could pile back into the vehicle, another voice cut through the tension; calm, but commanding. “Wait.”

M/n turned to see him. Park Chanyeong stepped out of the vehicle, his expression unreadable. There was something in the way he carried himself; strong, deliberate, that made the others hesitate.

“He’s not infected,” Chanyeong said firmly, his sharp eyes studying M/n. “Look at him. No signs of transformation, no erratic behavior.”

The scarred soldier frowned. “That doesn’t mean he’s not a liability. We can’t afford-”

“We can’t afford to lose more people, either,” Chanyeong interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “He’s a survivor. That counts for something.”

M/n’s knees nearly gave out as relief washed over him. But the others weren’t convinced. “And what happens if he turns on us later?” one of the soldiers argued. “It’ll be on you.”

“It’ll be on me,” Chanyeong replied coldly. “I’ll take responsibility.”

The soldiers grumbled but didn’t push further. Chanyeong stepped closer, his gaze locking with M/n’s. “Get in the vehicle,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’ll be safe.”

M/n hesitated for a heartbeat, as if waiting for someone to change their mind. But when no one did, he nodded and climbed into the back of the vehicle. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the seat, his heart still racing.

Chanyeong joined him a moment later, sitting across from him. For a while, the vehicle was silent, save for the rumble of the engine and the distant cries of monsters in the wasteland. M/n dared to glance up, meeting Chanyeong’s steady gaze.

“Thank you,” M/n whispered, his voice barely audible.

Chanyeong gave a small nod, his expression as stoic as ever. “Don’t thank me yet.”

It wasn’t exactly comforting, but for the first time in weeks, M/n felt a flicker of hope. He wasn’t alone anymore.

The vehicle slowed as it reached the underground safe zone. The heavy steel gates creaked open, revealing a dimly lit corridor bustling with survivors. Soldiers on patrol watched with wary eyes, their hands resting on their weapons. The air was tense; too many people, too much fear, and too little space.

M/n stepped out of the vehicle, his legs unsteady from both exhaustion and anxiety. As he followed Chanyeong through the narrow passage, he felt it; the weight of dozens of eyes on him. Whispers spread like wildfire.

“Is that him?”

“No way. He’s still alive?” “He was there… the apartment complex.”

M/n kept his gaze fixed on the ground, his jaw clenched. The memories of what happened at Green Home; the screams, the betrayal, the monsters; flashed through his mind. He didn’t want to remember. Not here. Not now.

A small group of survivors gathered near the entrance, openly staring. One of them, a woman with dark circles under her eyes, took a hesitant step forward. “You were… an idol, weren’t you?”

M/n didn’t answer, but the silence spoke for him. The woman’s expression hardened. “You ran, didn’t you? Back when things went to hell.”

“I did what I had to,” M/n said quietly, his voice steady despite the weight of the accusation.

Before anyone could say more, Chanyeong stepped between them, his presence like a wall. “That’s enough,” he said. His tone was calm, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. “He’s here now. That’s all that matters.”

The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering under their breath. Chanyeong turned back to M/n. “Come on. You need rest.”

They walked in silence until they reached a small, dimly lit room near the edge of the safe zone. Chanyeong opened the door and gestured for M/n to enter. It wasn’t much; just a cot, a chair, and a few supplies, but it was a haven compared to the outside world.

M/n sat on the edge of the cot, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m wanted here.”

“They’re scared,” Chanyeong replied, leaning against the doorframe. “Fear makes people lash out.”

“You’re not making second guessed about me?”

Chanyeong’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “No.”

The silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. M/n looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Why’d you stand up for me out there? You didn’t have to.”

Chanyeong’s gaze softened, just a fraction. “Because I know what it’s like to have people give up on you.”

M/n tilted his head. “You mean before all this?”

Chanyeong nodded, resting against the door frame. “I played baseball. Before the world ended, it was my life. But I made mistakes. Got injured. People stopped believing in me. Said I wasn’t worth the trouble.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. “I didn’t want to do the same to you.”

M/n’s chest tightened. He’d spent so long feeling like a burden, like the world would be better off without him. But Chanyeong didn’t see him that way.

“I used to be an idol,” M/n admitted quietly. “I loved it; performing, being on stage. But when things got bad at Green Home, all that didn’t matter. All people saw was someone who couldn’t protect anyone.”

Chanyeong studied him for a long moment. “You survived. That’s enough.”

M/n swallowed hard, emotion threatening to choke him. “Maybe. But it doesn’t feel like it.”

Chanyeong stepped closer, his expression as steady as ever. “Then stay alive. Long enough to figure out what it does feel like.”

The words weren’t comforting in the traditional sense, but somehow, they settled something deep in M/n’s chest.

“I’ll try,” M/n said, meeting Chanyeong’s eyes.

“Good.” Chanyeong gave a small nod. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

The underground safe zone was a far cry from the life M/n once knew. The constant hum of generators, the flickering fluorescent lights, and the steady patrols of soldiers made the air feel tense and suffocating. Every day was a battle to maintain order amidst the fear of what lurked beyond the gates.

For M/n, blending in wasn’t easy. The other survivors kept their distance, some out of fear, others because of lingering resentment. But he forced himself to adapt. He helped with chores, cleaned communal areas, and volunteered for supply runs; anything to prove he wasn’t just a burden.

One morning, M/n found himself summoned to the central training area; a wide, open space lined with sandbags and obstacle courses. The air smelled of sweat and metal. A group of soldiers stood waiting, their uniforms crisp and their expressions unreadable.

Chanyeong was there too, his arms crossed as he watched from a distance. M/n’s heart rate spiked, but he didn’t let it show.

The scarred soldier from before, now identified as Lieutenant Kim, stepped forward. “You’ve been here long enough to catch your breath. Now it’s time to see if you can actually contribute.” His tone was clipped, full of skepticism.

“What do you mean?” M/n asked, though he already had a sinking suspicion.

“We’re short on fighters. If you’re going to stay, you need to be more than just a survivor. We need soldiers. Fighters who can defend this place if the monsters breach the gates again.”

M/n’s fists clenched at his sides. “And if I fail?”

“Then you’re just another mouth to feed.”

Chanyeong’s gaze darkened, but he stayed silent.

The first test was simple; a physical evaluation. M/n had to run laps around the training area, climb walls, and navigate through an obstacle course designed to simulate urban terrain. Sweat dripped down his face, his muscles screaming in protest.

By the time he finished, his lungs burned, and his legs felt like lead. But he hadn’t stopped. He’d refused to quit.

Lieutenant Kim gave a curt nod. “You’re determined. I’ll give you that.”

The second test was combat. M/n was handed a dull training knife and pitted against a soldier twice his size. The fight was brutal; every swing and jab testing M/n’s reflexes. He dodged as best he could, but his opponent’s strength was overwhelming. He hit the ground more than once, his knees scraped and bloodied.

“Enough,” Chanyeong’s voice cut through the tension. He walked over, his expression neutral but his eyes burning with something M/n couldn’t quite name. “You’re not training him to get beaten. You’re training him to survive.”

Lieutenant Kim scowled but didn’t argue. “Fine. You take over, Park.”

Chanyeong tossed M/n a water bottle before taking his place in the sparring ring. “Get up,” he said quietly. “Again.”

M/n wiped the sweat from his brow and forced himself to his feet. His body protested every movement, but he wasn’t about to back down; not with Chanyeong watching.

They squared off. Chanyeong’s movements were deliberate, precise. He didn’t go easy on M/n, but he also didn’t aim to break him. With every step and swing, he pushed M/n to find his limits and then push past them.

By the end of the session, M/n was panting, bruised, and exhausted. But there was a spark of pride in his chest.

“You did well,” Chanyeong said, offering a hand to help him up.

M/n took it, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” Chanyeong replied. “You earned it.”

Lieutenant Kim gave one last, assessing look before turning on his heel. “We’ll see if you can keep it up.”

As the soldiers dispersed, M/n stayed behind with Chanyeong. The ache in his muscles was sharp, but there was something else; an odd sense of belonging.

The underground gates groaned open, revealing the desolate wasteland beyond. The world outside the safe zone was eerily silent, the air thick with the stench of decay and abandonment. Concrete rubble and twisted metal were strewn across the landscape, remnants of humanity’s fall.

Chanyeong led the group of soldiers, M/n walking beside him. It was M/n’s first mission outside, and the weight of anticipation hung heavy over him. He could feel the judgmental eyes of the other soldiers drilling into his back.

“Don’t slow us down,” one soldier muttered under his breath. “He should’ve stayed underground where it’s safe.”

Another snickered. “He’s not cut out for this. Idol or not, he’ll get someone killed.”

M/n’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze forward. His fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. Chanyeong shot the soldiers a warning glare, but M/n shook his head. “Let them talk.”

The group pressed on through the ruins, their boots crunching against broken glass and gravel. They were scavenging for supplies; a routine mission but one that could turn deadly in an instant.

They hadn’t gone far when the first sound came; a low, guttural growl that sent a shiver down everyone’s spines.

“Contact!” Lieutenant Kim barked.

A monster emerged from the shadows of a crumbling building. Its skin was pale and cracked, its eyes hollow but filled with a ravenous hunger. It lunged with terrifying speed.

The soldiers scattered, weapons raised. Gunfire erupted, but the monster was fast; too fast. It zigzagged between them, slashing with razor-sharp claws.

“M/n, move!” Chanyeong shouted as the creature charged straight for him.

Time seemed to slow. M/n’s heart thundered in his chest. The soldiers’ words echoed in his mind. Weak. A burden. Not good enough.

No.

M/n surged forward, a primal fury igniting inside him. He grabbed a broken pipe from the ground and swung with all his strength. The metal connected with a sickening crunch, sending the monster staggering backward.

It roared, blood dripping from its mouth, but M/n didn’t stop. He attacked again, driving the pipe into the creature’s side. His strikes became relentless, each blow fueled by anger and desperation.

The monster fell to its knees, but M/n kept going, the world around him blurring into a haze of adrenaline and rage. Every fear, every insult; it all exploded in that moment.

“Enough!”

Chanyeong’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

M/n froze, panting. His hands trembled, the blood-slicked pipe slipping from his grasp. The monster lay still, its body broken and lifeless.

And then it hit him.

He had killed it.

The world tilted. M/n staggered back, his vision swimming. His stomach churned violently, and he collapsed to his hands and knees, retching onto the cracked pavement.

Chanyeong was at his side in an instant, dropping to a crouch. He placed a steadying hand on M/n’s back, his touch firm but gentle. “Breathe, M/n. You’re safe now. Just breathe.”

“I-” M/n’s voice cracked. “I killed it. I didn’t mean to-”

“You did what you had to,” Chanyeong interrupted softly. “It was you or the monster.”

But M/n couldn’t stop shaking. His hands were stained with blood; proof that he wasn’t the same person who had stepped outside those gates.

“It’s different out here,” he whispered. “I thought I was ready. But I’m not.”

Chanyeong knelt in front of him, their faces inches apart. His usual stoic mask had slipped, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “No one’s ever ready the first time. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

M/n’s breath hitched. He wanted to believe Chanyeong, but the weight of what he’d done felt suffocating.

Chanyeong reached out, wiping a streak of blood from M/n’s cheek. “Look at me.”

M/n’s eyes slowly met his.

“You’re alive,” Chanyeong said firmly. “You fought back because you wanted to protect us. That’s what matters.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that; M/n sitting chin to his knees on the broken ground, Chanyeong steadying him. The chaos of the world faded into the background, leaving only the quiet connection between them.

“Ypu’re not alone,” Chanyeong promised. “Not now. Not ever.”

M/n swallowed hard, the knot in his chest loosening just a little. “Thank you.”

Chanyeong helped him to his feet, his grip never faltering. The other soldiers approached, their expressions a mixture of surprise and respect.

“Maybe you’re not all useless,” one of them admitted grudgingly.

M/n didn’t respond, but he held his head a little higher as they made their way back to the safe zone.

M/n leaned against the wall of the underground compound, his arms folded across his chest. The dim lighting overhead cast shadows on the rough concrete, and the air smelled faintly of metal and disinfectant. He had just returned from the mission with Chanyeong, his mind still replaying the moment he killed the monster. His hands were clean now, but he couldn’t stop seeing the blood in his mind’s eye.

“Hey.”

The voice pulled him from his thoughts. M/n looked up to see Jung Ye-seul standing a few feet away. She was one of the few civilians allowed to move around freely within the safe zone, her resourcefulness and sharp mind earning her respect among both the survivors and military personnel. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her sharp eyes locked onto M/n with a mix of curiosity and something harder to read.

“You’re the one they found outside,” she said, her tone neutral but guarded.

“Yeah. That’s me.” M/n’s voice was flat.

She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering. “You were on the mission with Chanyeong earlier. I heard what happened.”

M/n nodded slowly. “Word travels fast down here.”

Ye-seul crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “You saved him.”

“I did.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I guess I should say thank you,” she said, but there was no warmth in her voice.

M/n raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound very grateful.”

“I am.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “But I also know what happens when people get close to Chanyeong. They start thinking they can rely on him too much. They make him a crutch. And Chanyeong’s already carrying enough on his shoulders.”

M/n felt a flare of irritation. “I’m not a burden to him.”

Ye-seul’s gaze sharpened. “Are you sure about that? He’s always been the protector. It’s who he is. People lean on him, and he never says no. But that doesn’t mean it’s good for him.”

“I didn’t ask him to protect me,” M/n shot back. “In case you missed it, I’m the one who saved him today.”

Ye-seul’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t change anything. You’re still someone he cares about now. And that means you’re a risk.”

M/n felt a pang of guilt, but he pushed it aside. “I didn’t choose to care about him. It just happened. And I’m not going to walk away because you think I should.”

Ye-seul’s expression flickered with something—pain, maybe, or jealousy. “Chanyeong doesn’t let people in easily. If you hurt him…”

“I won’t,” M/n interrupted, his voice firm.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, two stubborn forces unwilling to back down.

Finally, Ye-seul sighed. “I hope you’re right. For both your sakes.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving M/n standing alone in the dim corridor.

M/n exhaled slowly, his heart pounding. He didn’t know what the future held for him or for Chanyeong, but one thing was certain; he wasn’t going to let anyone push him away from the person who had become his anchor in this chaotic world.

The mission had been simple; retrieve medical supplies from an abandoned hospital a few miles from the safe zone. The military had cleared the building once before, but the monsters were unpredictable, and the place was still a danger zone.

Despite the risks, M/n had volunteered to go. He was determined to prove himself again; not just to the others, but to himself. And in the days since the last mission, things had been better. The soldiers who had once mocked him now showed respect, their gazes lingering with a newfound acknowledgment. Even Yeseul had kept her distance, a quiet truce settling between them.

Chanyeong had insisted on coming along. His ever-stoic demeanor gave M/n strength, an unspoken promise of protection. They moved together like a machine, sweeping the darkened hospital halls with precision and efficiency.

But nothing ever went according to plan.

They had just reached the hospital’s old surgical ward when the air shifted; a low, guttural growl that sent shivers racing down their spines.

“Get ready,” Chanyeong muttered, gripping his weapon on his hip tightly.

The monster exploded from the shadows, its pale, sinewy form illuminated by the flickering overhead lights. It was larger than anything they had faced before, its limbs unnaturally long and its teeth razor-sharp.

Chaos erupted.

M/n swung his weapon, the metallic pipe connecting with the monster’s ribs. The creature roared in pain but didn’t go down. It lashed out, its claws narrowly missing M/n’s face.

“Fall back!” Chanyeong barked.

They moved in sync, dodging the creature’s attacks as they retreated down the hall. But the monster was relentless. It lunged again, forcing them into the surgical ward; a sterile, cold room with no exit.

Chanyeong’s eyes darted around, calculating their next move. The monster was blocking the only doorway, and it was too fast to take down easily.

“We’re out of options,” M/n panted, adrenaline coursing through him.

Chanyeong’s gaze softened for a brief moment. “Trust me.”

Before M/n could respond, Chanyeong surged forward. He slammed the emergency door controls, and the steel door hissed shut, trapping M/n on the outside and locking Chanyeong inside with the monster.

“Chanyeong!” M/n shouted, pounding on the glass window that separated them.

The monster roared and charged.

Chanyeong didn’t flinch. He met the creature head-on, his movements precise and deadly. He dodged its swipes and struck with brutal efficiency, his fists and blade a blur of motion. Blood sprayed across the white walls, staining the sterile room with crimson.

M/n watched in horror, his fists clenched so tightly they ached. The glass barrier felt like a prison. Every instinct screamed at him to break through, to help, but there was no way in.

The fight raged on, and Chanyeong was relentless; but so was the monster. It struck him hard, sending him crashing into a surgical table. The force knocked the breath from him, and for a terrifying moment, he didn’t move.

“No!” M/n shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

The monster loomed over Chanyeong, ready to deliver the final blow.

Then, with a burst of strength, Chanyeong drove his blade into the creature’s throat. It let out a choked howl, its body convulsing before collapsing to the floor.

Silence fell.

M/n’s breath hitched as he saw Chanyeong slump against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Chanyeong!” He banged on the glass again, tears stinging his eyes. “Stay awake!”

Chanyeong’s eyes barely opened. His voice was weak, but his gaze found M/n’s through the glass.

“I-” He coughed, blood flecking his lips. “I think I... love you.”

The words hit M/n like a lightning strike.

“No, no, you don’t get to say that now!” M/n’s voice cracked. “You’re not dying. You hear me? You’re not dying!”

But Chanyeong’s eyes closed, and his body went still.

“Chanyeong!” M/n’s scream echoed down the empty hallway.

Frantic, M/n slammed his shoulder against the door controls until they gave way, the steel door sliding open with a hiss. He rushed to Chanyeong’s side, his hands trembling as he checked for a pulse.

It was faint, but it was there.

Relief flooded M/n, and he let out a shaky breath. He tore a strip of fabric from his sleeve and pressed it against Chanyeong’s wounds, his hands steady despite the chaos still swirling in his mind.

“I think I love you too,” M/n whispered, his voice breaking. “So don’t leave me.”

Chanyeong didn’t respond, but M/n felt the faintest squeeze of his hand. It was enough.

M/n’s muscles screamed in protest with every step, but he didn’t stop. Chanyeong’s unconscious weight rested on his back, his arms draped over M/n’s shoulders and head leaning against his neck. Blood soaked M/n’s shirt, both Chanyeong’s and his own from cuts and scrapes. The road back to the base was long and treacherous, every shadow a potential threat. But M/n’s mind was fixed on one goal; getting Chanyeong back alive.

When the base finally came into view, M/n’s legs nearly gave out from exhaustion. A group of soldiers rushed forward, weapons raised until they saw who it was.

“Help him!” M/n’s voice cracked as he knelt, lowering Chanyeong onto a stretcher the medics had brought. He stumbled to his feet, covered in dirt and blood, as the medics took Chanyeong inside the makeshift medical ward.

But the moment of relief was short-lived.

“Why are you the one walking around fine?” one soldier sneered, stepping forward. “Chanyeong’s the best we’ve got, and now he’s half-dead.”

Another soldier scowled. “You were supposed to have his back. Instead, you let him get locked in with a monster.”

The accusations hit M/n like a punch to the gut. His fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t defend himself. He couldn’t. The truth was, he felt the same crushing guilt. Chanyeong had saved him; again and now Chanyeong was paying the price.

“Enough!” Yeseul’s sharp voice cut through the crowd. She stepped between M/n and the soldiers, her glare fierce. “Blaming him won’t help Chanyeong. And if you’re so concerned, why aren’t you in there helping the medics?”

The soldiers muttered under their breath but backed off.

Yeseul turned to M/n, her expression softening. “Go inside. He’s going to need you.”

M/n nodded, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, but his feet carried him forward.

The makeshift ward was a bleak, sterile space. Cots lined the walls, and the air was filled with the acrid scent of antiseptic. Chanyeong laid on the closest cot, pale and still, an IV drip hooked to his arm. Bandages covered his torso, and his breathing was shallow but steady.

M/n sank into the chair beside the cot, his body sagging with weariness. He hadn’t realized just how heavy his grief and fear had been until now.

“I’m here,” he whispered, reaching for Chanyeong’s hand. It was cold to the touch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The hours blurred into days. M/n never left the ward. He barely slept, catching fitful naps in the chair. He hardly ate, ignoring the rations Yeseul and a few other soldiers brought him. Every time Chanyeong’s breathing hitched or his body twitched, M/n was there, his heart racing with hope. But Chanyeong never woke.

The medics warned him to take care of himself, but M/n didn’t listen. Guilt gnawed at his insides like a parasite, and every second spent away from Chanyeong felt like a betrayal.

On the third night, M/n sat in the dim light of the ward, his head resting on the edge of the cot. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his body trembled with exhaustion.

“I should have protected you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I should have done more.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, falling onto Chanyeong’s hand.

“Please,” M/n whispered. “Come back.”

The silence that followed was deafening. But then; a faint twitch. M/n’s head shot up, hope lighting his eyes. Chanyeong’s fingers twitched again, and his eyelids fluttered.

“Chanyeong?” M/n leaned forward, his heart pounding.

Slowly, painfully, Chanyeong’s eyes opened. They were clouded with confusion at first, but when they locked onto M/n’s face, recognition dawned.

“M/n...” Chanyeong’s voice was barely a whisper, but it was the most beautiful sound M/n had ever heard.

“You’re awake.” M/n choked on a sob, gripping Chanyeong’s hand tightly. “You’re awake.”

Chanyeong’s lips curved into a weak smile. “I told you... I’m not going anywhere.”

M/n pressed his forehead to Chanyeong’s hand, the weight on his chest finally lifting.

M/n couldn’t let go of Chanyeong’s hand, not even for a second. His heart was still pounding from the overwhelming relief of seeing him awake. Every rise and fall of Chanyeong’s chest felt like a victory, fragile but real.

“You need rest,” Chanyeong murmured, though his voice was weak. “You’re worse off than me.”

M/n let out a short, tired laugh. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”

“And you’re the one who hasn’t slept or eaten in days. I can tell.” Chanyeong shifted slightly, wincing from the movement. “C'mere.”

M/n hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Chanyeong said, his gaze soft but insistent. “Please.”

The vulnerability in Chanyeong’s eyes was rare, and it was enough to make M/n’s resolve crumble. Slowly, he climbed onto the cot, careful not to jostle him too much. The cot was narrow, forcing them close, and M/n lay on his side, his face only inches from Chanyeong’s.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other. The dim light of the ward softened the harsh edges of the room, and the world outside felt far away; nothing but the two of them, suspended in this fragile, stolen moment.

“I thought I lost you,” M/n admitted, his voice trembling. “I’ve never been so scared for anyone before.”

Chanyeong’s fingers tightened around M/n’s. “I’m still here.”

M/n swallowed hard. “I know... but seeing you like that, I-”

Chanyeong reached out, his fingers brushing against M/n’s cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver through M/n’s entire body.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Chanyeong said quietly. “But I meant what I said. I love you.”

The words hung in the air between them, raw and unfiltered. M/n’s breath hitched. He could see the truth of it in Chanyeong’s eyes; there was no hesitation, no second-guessing.

“I love you, too,” M/n whispered. The weight of everything; the fear, the guilt, the uncertainty, dissolved in that moment.

Chanyeong’s hand slid to the back of M/n’s neck, and M/n leaned in without thinking. Their lips met, tentative at first, but the kiss quickly deepened. It was desperate and full of emotion; a kiss born from the fear of almost losing each other and the joy of finding one another again.

M/n’s fingers curled into Chanyeong’s cut up shirt, holding him close. Their breath mingled, and the world outside the ward melted away.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together. M/n’s heart was racing, but it was no longer from fear.

“We’ll get through this,” Chanyeong said softly, his thumb brushing over M/n’s cheek. “Together.”

M/n nodded, tears glistening in his eyes but a smile tugging at his lips. “Together.”