Hanyang University (한양대학교)
September 20, 2035
09:32 AM
The campus buzzed with the usual morning chaos-horns from the nearby street, loudspeaker announcements from the central building, and clusters of students with coffee in one hand and stress in the other.
Dohyun parked his car along the east side of the lot, where the art and business departments split off in different directions.
As he stepped out, Jihoon adjusted the strap of his paint-stained tote bag and looked up at the sky.
It was clear, bright... too quiet.
"How many classes do you have today?" Dohyun asked, locking the car.
"Just Professor Lim and that visual storytelling elective."
Jihoon yawned, stretching his arms. "Think I'll survive. You?"
"Business ethics and some financial management things."
"Tragic," Jihoon smirked.
"Anyway, café after?"
"I'll pick you up at the art building,"
Dohyun said, voice soft.
Jihoon nodded, Smiled and waved his hand as he turned away.
They parted at the campus gate.
Then...
"Jihoonie!!"
A voice burst through the crowd.
A guy with red-dyed hair, a lip ring, and mismatched Converse jogged toward Jihoon.
It was Jun - a whirlwind of chaotic style and energy.
"Morning, Jun," Jihoon greeted with a chuckle.
"Did you finish Professor Lim's assignment?! Please tell me you did-lemme see that sketchbook. I'm dying, man!"
"You're always dying,"
Jihoon teased as he disappeared with him into the art wing, laughter trailing behind them.
Across the lot, Dohyun was already being approached. A small group of business students stood near the staircase-three guys dressed in designer sneakers and pressed coats. Even among the crowd, they stood out effortlessly.
One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, waved him over. "Dohyun! Bro, you're actually late?"
Another glanced at his Rolex watch, a limited-edition model. "You're 15 minutes off. The world's ending."
"Maybe it already has," Dohyun muttered to himself, too softly for them to hear.
If only they knew how close that joke was to the truth.
10:10 AM - Business Lecture Hall
The lecture room was half-full, dimly lit by the projector's bluish glare.
Before class started, several girls near the back were whispering in hushed tones.
"Did you see that video? The one from Germany?"
"Yeah, the guy in the subway biting someone-looked real."
"I heard it's a synthetic drug. Some Reddit threads said the government's covering it up."
A guy sitting in front of them scoffed and turned around.
"It's a hoax. Literally deepfake crap. Why do you all fall for this stuff?"
"It didn't look fake to me," one of the girls shot back.
"That's the point of a good fake."
Their bickering was cut short when the professor entered.
"Phones off. Brains on.!"
He started talking about market regulations and international news reactions.
But Dohyun wasn't listening. Dohyun's chest tightened.
The subway platform.
The screams.
The blood.
The way the man twisted unnaturally and lunged with inhuman strength-
he remembered it all. Because he'd been in the same situation. Because he had killed many of them.
No one else noticed.
Everyone else thought it was a meme.
A rumor.
But he could feel it.
The countdown had started again.
12:45 PM - Art Department,
The scent of oil paint and varnish hung in the air. Posters littered the walls, some half-torn:
"Gallery Showing Next Friday!",
"Life Drawing Club!",
"Looking for volunteers-art therapy project."
Dohyun leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, watching students wander in and out.
He stayed quiet, invisible - a businessman among dreamers.
Then he heard it.
"Is that... Kim Dohyun?"
Three girls glanced from down the hall.
They tried not to stare, but failed.
"Yeah, the one from Business Management"
"Kim Dohwa's son, right? From the conglomerate family?"
"Wait. You mean that Kim Dohwa? The CEO of D.H Group?"
"Ssshh! You didn't know? He's the only son of Kim Dohwa."
"No way-he's always so quiet."
"What's he doing in this building?"
Dohyun sighed quietly and looked away, jaw tightening.
He's already used to it.
But still... annoyed him
Jihoon emerged a few minutes later, the sketchbook clutched to his chest, smudges of charcoal dust on his fingertips and cheek.
His eyes lit up the second he saw Dohyun. "You're early."
"You're messy," Dohyun replied, brushing Jihoon's cheek with his thumb.
Jihoon leaned into the touch for a second, but then leaned back with a teasing grin. "You're famous again. Pretty sure the first year thinks you're here to buy the department."
Dohyun exhaled a soft laugh. "Should I?"
Jihoon chuckled and grab his hand. Intertwined their fingers.
"So, Mister Conglomerate, should I start calling you 'chaebol-nim' now?"
"Please don't."
They walked side by side toward the exit.
Suddenly Jihoon paused, and stopped on his stepped. "Oh! I-I need to stop by the library real quick. Just for a book."
The words froze Dohyun's feet mid-step.
Library.
Narrow hallway.
Broken windows.
Dusty Shelves
The Blood.
The Smell rot corpses
The uncompleted body scattered around.
His stomach crunch.
"No." His voice came out sharper than intended.
Jihoon blinked, surprised. "I won't take long-
"I'm hungry," He cut off. Dohyun said, forcing a smile. "We can go next time."
It wasn't about hunger. It was fear, wrapped in memories he couldn't say out loud.
1:25 PM - Off-Campus Café
The tiny café was warm and smelled like vanilla syrup and coffee beans.
Their usual table by the window sat untouched. Jihoon was talking-something about his next project. But Dohyun barely registered the words.
His eyes scanned the people outside.
The crowded sidewalks.
The students are walking alone.
The mother with a baby stroller.
A teenager coughing on the corner.
His hand trembled.
I can't stay here. I need to get him away. Soon.
"Dohyun?"
Jihoon's voice pulled him back. Concern lingered behind his eyes.
"You've been quiet all day. You sure everything's okay?"
"I'm fine," Dohyun lied. Forcing a smile.
Soon... I need to take him away from here soon.
2:02 PM - Parking Lot
As they returned to the car, the breeze had shifted.
A flyer blew across the ground and stuck to Dohyun's leg.
He looked down.
"CRIMSON FEVER: New Hoax or Bioterrorism?"
- Pg. 4, Global Times.
His throat dried. That same headline. The same font.
He remembered this exact moment. He remembered standing here-one day before it all collapsed.
Without thinking, he reached out and took Jihoon's hand.
"Let's go home."
Jihoon didn't argue this time.
But behind them, the flyer peeled off the ground and drifted away into the wind, like a warning ignored.
————
Another day passed. Like all the others.
Quiet. Ordinary. Meaningless.
But not for Dohyun.
Each day was survival. Preparing for the worst. That he already knows
Dohyun stood in front of the window, unmoving, arms folded, eyes half-lidded.
He wasn't looking at anything-just the void beyond the glass. But something about him felt... expectant. Like he was waiting for something the world forgot to deliver.
Then-
A sound.
Faint tires brushing asphalt.
A soft engine rumble. No headlights.
A van pulled up in the back alley behind the apartment.
Unmarked. No license plate.
Matte gray. Government-style hush.
Dohyun didn't hesitate.
He moved like a man who'd done this before-like the noise was confirmation, not surprise.
The driver never spoke.
Just climbed out, opened the back doors, and gave a curt nod before he left.
Inside: crates. Matte black. Lined in foam. Heavy.
Dohyun ran a hand along the cool metal latches, pausing briefly-then popped them open one by one with smooth precision.
The cold gleam of weaponry caught the early light.
Two handguns, cleaned and preloaded.
A compact shotgun with a matte grip.
Ammo boxes stacked like old habits.
A folded compound bow.
A crossbow, pre-strung, its string humming faintly with tension.
Hunting knives-balanced, sharpened.
Smoke grenades in neat rows.
Two tactical vests. His size. Jihoon's size.
Dohyun's fingers moved deliberately. Clip. Slide. Lock. Inspect.
No fear. No rush. Only muscle memory.
Three years. Three years of blood, bone, and running. The world had turned him into this.
Not a killer. A survivor.
And then...
"Dohyun-!"
A voice cracked through the morning air like glass shattering on concrete.
Dohyun's hand froze over a box of ammo.
He turned slowly.
Jihoon stood at the edge of the alleyway, barefoot, still in pajama pants and a wrinkled tee.
His hair was a mess of sleep.
His eyes-wide, stunned, betrayed.
"Are those-?"
He took a step closer, then stopped dead. "What the hell is all this?" His voice was quiet, but it wavered.
Dohyun didn't speak. Not yet.
He just watched Jihoon's expression shift-from confusion to realization. From disbelief to something that looked dangerously close to fear.
Jihoon glanced into the van.
At the crates.
At the loaded guns.
"You... bought this? You bought all this?"
"It's not what you think," Dohyun said, closing the doors gently with both hands.
Jihoon's breath hitched. "Guns? Grenades? Are you serious right now? How?!"
He wasn't angry. He wasn't yelling. He was scared. Not of Dohyun. But for him. And somehow, that hurt more.
Dohyun crossed the space between them and laid his hands carefully on Jihoon's shoulders.
He touched him like glass-afraid that if he held too tight, Jihoon would slip right through his fingers. "Baby... I need you to trust me."
Jihoon's brows pulled together, eyes starting to glass over. "I don't understand," he whispered. Almost like crying.
"You will," Dohyun replied softly. "Just not yet."
A pause.
Wind brushed past.
Somewhere, a bird chirped-mocking how normal the world still looked. But in this alley, silence stretched between them like the last breath before a storm.
Dohyun's voice dropped, low and aching. "I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"
Jihoon stared at him. Eyes glassy. And slowly... nodded."...Yeah," he breathed. "I know."
But the fear didn't fade from his eyes.
Because love wasn't the question.
The unknown was.
————
Lazy Sunday 7:10 AM
It was the day after Jihoon had stumbled upon the truth. A quiet storm had passed between them the night before—no raised voices, only the weight of silence and the flicker of concern in Jihoon’s eyes. And now, morning had come, cold and overcast, the tension still lingering like smoke in the air.
But then...
Out of nowhere.
Dohyun whispered in Jihoon's ear. Low and soft. "Baby... let's do a picnic"
Jihoon's body flinched as he felt dohyun's breath on his neck. He opened his eyes quickly and turned to him excitedly.
"You mean a date?! Wee!"
It started like a date.
No-it was a date. That's what Jihoon thought.
But then Jihoon blinked. "Since when do you do picnics?"
Dohyun just shrugged, Stood up and sled into a backpack over one shoulder.
"Since today. Come on sleepyhead"
He didn't give Jihoon a chance to argue. Just told him to wear something warm and follow him.
Jihoon, still half-asleep, stuffed snacks into a tote and chased after him in mismatched socks and messy hair.
————
Namhansanseong Forest, Gwangju-si
September 24, 2035 - 10:12 PM
The forest road curved upward like a ribbon, sunlight flickering through the canopy above. Pine trees stood tall on either side, their shadows long across the cracked asphalt.
Jihoon stared out the window, eyebrows knitting together.
"Wait..." he leaned forward.
"Aren't we out of Seoul already?"
Dohyun, hands on the wheel, didn't answer right away.
"Technically," he said at last.
"We're still close. Just outside Gwangju."
Jihoon gave him a squint.
"You kidnapped me."
"You got in willingly."
"I thought you meant picnic like-like coffee and sandwiches by the Han River!."
Dohyun parked off the road, tires crunching over dry leaves. The trees were thicker here. No other cars. No people.
"...We're not gonna get murdered, right?" Jihoon half-joked as he stepped out.
"No," Dohyun said, opening the trunk.
"But I want you to learn how not to."
He lifted a slim, padded case.
Jihoon blinked. "Is that-?"
"A silenced handgun," Dohyun confirmed.
"Just one. For today."
————
[The Training Session]
The forest was quiet that afternoon, the wind rustling through branches like whispers.
A tree trunk had been marked with a red X-spray paint, faded but still visible. Jihoon stood ten paces away, both hands wrapped around the pistol, his stance awkward. His sneakers dug into the dirt.
Dohyun stood behind him, close enough that Jihoon could feel his breath.
"You're too tense," Dohyun said, gently guiding his arms.
"Lower your shoulders. Relax your jaw."
"I feel like I'm in a bad movie," Jihoon muttered.
Dohyun smirked. "Just aim. Don't act."
"The safety's off already?"
"Yeah. Finger beside the trigger. You aim first... then fire."
Jihoon exhaled and focused on the red mark.
"And remember,"
Dohyun added quietly, his voice just behind Jihoon's ear. "You're not shooting to kill. You're shooting to live."
The first shot cracked through the forest like a snap of thunder.
Birds scattered.
Jihoon flinched and nearly dropped the gun. "Holy-! Was that me?!"
"You're okay," Dohyun said calmly, catching the pistol and his wrist.
"Try again."
"I missed."
"You'll hit next time."
They stayed like that. Shot after shot.
A few missed completely.
A few scraped bark.
And finally, one carved clean through the edge of the X.
Jihoon lowered the gun slowly, breathing hard. His arms were sore. But his hands were steadier now.
"...Why are you really doing this?" he asked, voice soft.
Dohyun didn't answer right away. The light through the trees had shifted golden. Then, softly: "Because next time... I'm not letting you die."
Jihoon froze. "...What?"
Dohyun didn't explain.
He only stepped forward and ruffled Jihoon's hair, his touch lingering.
"Let's go home."
"Ugh... I'm hungry."
As they walk back, Jihoon sneaks a glance at the tree trunk.
The last shot he took-dead center.
But he doesn't smile.
————
01:34 PM
[After their training season]
They stopped at the café near Namhansanseong fortress was tucked between trees, more glass than a wall, wrapped in morning mist and the scent of pine.
Jihoon sat at the table like a man betrayed by the gods of hunger. He devoured omelet rice, pancakes, and two cups of hot cocoa like he was in a food competition.
Now, leaning back, he groaned. "I think I pulled a stomach muscle."
Dohyun chuckled, stirring his tea. "No regrets?"
"You ambushed me. I thought we were going on a walk, not a surprise brunch in the woods."
"I never said just a walk."
Jihoon narrowed his eyes. "You said, it was a picnic sir!"
Dohyun just smiled, then reached over to adjust the scarf around Jihoon's neck. "Haha, Okay. No more ambushed. Come on. If you're done let's go home."
————
[Later - Their Apartment]
03:45 PM
The door clicked shut behind them with a final, muffled thud. The world outside faded into silence.
Jihoon let out a long groan, immediately kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the couch like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
"Ugh... my arms are still shaking. My ears are ringing. And I smell like gunpowder."
Dohyun stood quietly by the door for a moment, watching him-like someone who had dreamt of this sight a thousand times and was still afraid to blink.
"You did well," he finally murmured, his voice soft as he set the gear case down with care, as if even the floor shouldn't echo right now.
Jihoon turned his head, pouting. "Okay, but seriously... where the hell did that come from?"
He sat up slightly, eyes narrowing. "You-You were like some action movie hero back there. Like... click-clack boom. No hesitation. You even knew how to use that bow without flinching."
Dohyun walked over slowly, quietly, as if approaching something fragile.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to Jihoon's forehead, his hand gently brushing Jihoon's bangs aside as if memorizing the shape of him.
"I just wanted to protect you,"
he whispered, and for a second, it sounded more like a confession than an answer.
"That's not an answer," Jihoon replied, narrowing his eyes.
But Dohyun only gave him a small smile-one that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You're cute when you pout."
Jihoon huffed and grabbed his collar, tugging him closer.
"You're suspicious when you dodge. I feel like I'm dating a secret agent."
Dohyun looked at him for a long moment—like he wanted to say something true but couldn’t risk unraveling it with words.
Something too deep, too fragile to name. His voice, low and rough with feeling, barely carried as he leaned in.
“Then maybe this agent needs to shut you up.”
Jihoon blinked—then burst into breathless laughter. “Wow. Cringe. Come here.”
Their mouths collided like a dam finally breaking.
Dohyun kissed him like he was starved — not just for Jihoon’s body, but for every version of him he’d missed. Every smile, every sigh, every damn second lost to fear and silence. It wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a claiming.
A desperate, slow-burn surrender that dragged them under with no way back up.
Their hands were frantic and reverent all at once. Every button undone felt like a confession pulled from their chests. Every zipper eased down was another wall crumbling between them. Jihoon’s hoodie slipped from his shoulders, exposing pale skin flushed pink from anticipation. Dohyun’s fingers ghosted along his sides like he was memorizing a sacred text.
By the time they stumbled to the mattress, Jihoon was breathless and shivering—not from cold, but from the weight of being wanted so deeply.
Dohyun’s lips pressed against the arch of Jihoon’s neck, slow and lingering. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered, voice frayed at the edges.
Jihoon looked up, eyes dark and glassy. “If you stop now,” he breathed, “I’ll never forgive you.”
That did it.
Clothes hit the floor with soft rustles and quiet gasps. Skin met skin—hot and trembling. Dohyun's hands gripped Jihoon's thighs, guiding him close, grounding himself with every stolen moan. Jihoon climbed onto his lap, knees bracketing Dohyun’s hips, bold and trembling.
He sank down onto him slowly—inch by inch—with a stuttered gasp that turned into a half-choked moan.
“Hhnn… f-fuck…”
His hands braced against Dohyun’s chest, fingers curling into the scarred skin as his body trembled from the stretch, the heat, the fullness.
Dohyun groaned through his teeth, head tipped back, eyes clenched. “You… You said you wouldn't forgive me if I stop,” he growled, voice low and broken. “Don’t blame me if I can’t hold back now.”
Jihoon laughed breathlessly, biting his lip—but it turned into a whimper when Dohyun shifted his hips just enough to hit that spot.
“Ah—Dohyun—!”
“You look too good like this,” Dohyun said through a growl, hands locked tight on Jihoon’s waist. “Trying to take control… only to fall apart.”
Jihoon tried to retort, but another roll of Dohyun’s hips shut him up with a helpless moan. He bit down on Dohyun’s shoulder, his back arching, thighs quivering.
Their rhythm built—slow and grinding, then harder. Needier.
Slaps of skin, soft curses, broken whines. Jihoon rocked against him, trying to chase it, but Dohyun held him steady, making him take every thrust.
“You wanted it right?” Dohyun whispered into his ear, breath hot. “So take it. Feel every inch of me.”
“God—ngghh—y-you’re such an asshole,” Jihoon moaned, barely able to breathe.
“Still not stopping,” Dohyun muttered, kissing the corner of his mouth.
Sweat clung to their skin, the room thick with heat and breath and the sound of their bodies moving in sync. Jihoon’s hand gripped Dohyun’s nape, clinging. Their foreheads touched again, lips brushing but never quite kissing.
Jihoon came first—shuddering hard, body tensing, then spilling across Dohyun’s chest with a stifled cry, biting down on his own hand to muffle it.
Dohyun followed moments later—hips thrusting deep, burying himself to the hilt as he groaned raggedly against Jihoon’s neck, voice trembling.
He didn’t move for a while—just stayed there, arms tight around Jihoon’s back, breath heaving.
It wasn’t just climax.
It was catharsis. It was I’m still here. It was I’ve got you.
And Jihoon, breathless and fucked out, whispered against his ear:
“I love you. Even if your spy talk is terrible.”
Dohyun chuckled softly, still inside him, chest rising and falling. “I love you too… Agent Park.”
He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a shameless whisper.
“Especially your tight ass.”
Jihoon groaned in embarrassment, burying his face in Dohyun’s neck. “You ruined it,” he whined, voice muffled. “You literally ruined the moment—”
Dohyun only grinned, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him in tighter.
“Good. I like ruining you.”
———————————————––––—
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