#and hyj went full on SS-rank so like. What sort of threat was he feeling.

[wovenstarlight]

intrigued by that s-classes au idea. it's really good!! I'd love to hear more

I think u mean cached au bc that's the one I posted most recently! i don't have any real... Thoughts on it that aren't already in that twt thread i posted before, so here u go, a ficlet thing

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There's a hand at his elbow. "Hyung," Yoohyun says softly.

"Yeah?" Yoojin has his head tipped back, watching the mana currents looping and curling through the air, swirling around the two of them when they aren't flowing into the brilliant, glowing circle of mana right in front of them. They're weirdly pretty. Kind of soothing to watch.

"There's a portal."

Yes, he can see that, Yoohyun, he doesn't say. "Mm."

Yoohyun grasps his elbow more firmly, tucking his hand into his arm, and pulls him through. Magic presses down around his shoulders like a physical thing, strangely reminiscent of the jets of air that hit you when entering a storefront with a fan over the door. But this time around, it feels... ticklish. Light. Nothing like the weight that used to press down on his chest and pull the breath out of his lungs.

He exhales unsteadily. Yoohyun's grip tightens, and he remembers to draw in a breath, draw in his aura—

It feels like holding a breath. Except he won't die if he keeps it held. It feels like drawing in his shoulders, tucking his head down, minding his business. Making himself unremarkable.

Which is to say, it feels like an old habit. He adjusted pretty damn quick.

Yoohyun, on the other hand...

Yoojin watches, detached, as Yoohyun pulls him through his house and into his living room. "Hyung," he says, and then stalls there, staring at the couch with a strange, scrunched-up expression.

Yoojin shifts his arm, tugging slightly on Yoohyun's hand. "Yeah?" he prompts, and Yoohyun pulls away like he's been burned.

(It's fine.)

"Um," Yoohyun starts again. (...When was the last time Yoohyun ever said 'um'?) "You... You can stay here for now."

"I do have a house, you know."

"Yes, but—" Yoohyun finally (finally) looks at him, searching his face with... is that anxiety? It's been a long time. "With your... rank... It isn't safe."

Yoojin sets his jaw and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"What? No, of course not, that's... No, I meant— People might come after you."

...What? "Why?"

"They..." Yoohyun looks away, searching for the words, rocking slightly on his heels. "You're my hyung. And I'm... I've made enemies," he finishes lamely.

"Yoohyun-ah," Yoojin sighs, about to tell him to make his point instead of dropping all these fragmented sentences, when his mind moves ahead of him and completes the implication. He frowns. "—You're worried... about me?"

Yoohyun nods mutely. Yoojin considers telling him it's not like anything could hurt him now, but there's a strange feeling unfurling in his chest, something simultaneously warm and sharp. "Alright," he says, in the end, glancing around himself. "I'll stay here. ...You got yourself a nice place, huh?" He can't quite hide the note of bitterness that sneaks into that last part.

Yoohyun must hear it, but for some reason, instead of getting annoyed like always, his face scrunches up again. "Hyung," he mumbles, kind of wobbly, and Yoojin's moving before he knows it.

"Hey," he says, cradling his little brother's face in his hands. "Yoohyun-ah, what's wrong?"

Yoohyun stares at him with this distraught light in his eyes, mouth opening, but Yoojin can't— He can't look at him looking like—

Yoojin puts a hand on the back of his neck and yanks him down until Yoohyun's face is buried in his neck, wrapping his arms securely around his baby brother. "Hey," he murmurs. "It's okay. Whatever it is. It's alright. 'M sorry, okay?"

"Hyung," Yoohyun chokes out, muffled against his neck, and hugs him back. His arms are tight enough to crush, just like the hugs he used to give when he was very, very little, but Yoojin barely feels the pressure. He squeezes him back, careful not to hurt him. "You don't have to— All this time, I've been so— I have so much to explain—"

"Yoohyun-ah," Yoojin breathes, ignoring that feeling in his chest, sharp, sharp, sharp— "It's okay. It's fine."

"It's not," Yoohyun wails. "I hurt you."

Ah.

One part of Yoojin, a wound eight years old and still bleeding and raw, wants to hiss and snap, sharp sharp sharp, yes you did, wants it to hurt.

The other part of Yoojin held his little brother's cooling body in his arms less than two hours ago. That other part of Yoojin is holding his brother in his arms right now, alive and breathing. Breathing shakily, like he's about to cry. That other part of Yoojin is still Yoohyun's hyung.

He pulls Yoohyun impossibly closer and hushes him gently. "We'll figure it out," he promises, after a long moment. "It'll be alright." He inhales, pulls his aura closer, and pulls himself together. "We'll be alright."

They stand there for a very long time.