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onlyseokmins · 6 months

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$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

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wen-kexing-apologist · 1 year

Text

On the Subject of Pat 2.0

Hello! It’s your resident 25 year old working their first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than them here to talk about "Pat" Phakphum Tangwatthana another resident 25 year old working his first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than him.

I have seen some confusion or distaste around Pat and Pat’s storyline in the most recent episode, and I understand the criticism around the editing needing to be tighter, but I do just want to talk about my own perceptions of Pat and why I didn’t need any more explicit explanations for his behavior than we already got.

It’s essay time :D

Pat and his emotions in Episode 9:

We start the episode on Pat’s point of view, cutting back to the previous evening and establishing Pat’s level of inebriation

Gif from @pharawee

Everything is ghosting and blurry and it is very clear that Pat was out of his head if not out of his body when he was having fun with Jeng on the dance floor. This is evidence enough as far as I am concerned that Pat had absolutely zero knowledge of Jeng’s dance floor confession. But what he does remember is learning Jeng is queer. Which as we are all aware, rocks his fucking world.

Now, I wrote in my previous timeline that narratively, Pat has never had the time to contemplate the sexuality of his boss. At the very beginning, he spills glass jelly on Jeng’s shoe and meets a kind and very attractive man, and then he just simps over this very Lorge Man for awhile while Jeng is actively trying to manage a crush on an employee because he understands would be a huge HR Violation if he were to try to pursue that thread. But Pat has been flirting hard, in ways that are obvious if you are queer and able to identify them, but less so if you are straight and don’t automatically look at the level of familiarity as flirting. However, we have to look at when, where, and how Pat and Jeng break their professionalism and where they maintain it.

Pat only initiates the break in professionalism when he is drunk and/or out of the office. His criticisms of Jeng he gives in the review? Drunk. His commentary about how when he first met Jeng he was nice and he is having a hard time reconciling that Jeng with micromanaging boss Jeng? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt round 2? Drunk.

The rest Jeng initiates. He engineers the dinner in his office, he asks Pat to come over on Sunday to work, he suggests Pat get ready at his apartment, he suggests he and Pat share a hotel room, he asks Pat to accompany him to the furniture store, he calls the video of drunk!Pat cute, he asks Pat to go on the restaurant tour with him.

So, from this we know that Pat is aware enough of the office gossip and when in control of his mental faculties, is able to temper his feelings towards Jeng while at work. And that Jeng has been simping hard from the beginning, and Pat has been reciprocating the energy whenever Jeng starts the interaction.

But we also know that Pat has a difficult time handling his other emotions, especially while at work. Partially because he is young, partially because he is exploited, partially because he is almost certainly spending a lot of his time focusing on a) not having a meltdown and b) not hitting on his boss in front of his coworkers.

Anyway, the timeline of Pat’s immediate emotions around Jeng’s sexuality confession I have previously outlined so just keep that in mind while I continue to ramble about Pat in this episode.

Pat learns Jeng is gay, freaks out about it because Jeng is fully aware of everything Pat has been doing, and Pat is fully aware that Jeng has been intentionally flirting with him this whole time. Spirals about it in his dreams the whole night and wakes up hungover and having an existential crisis about what the fuck comes next for him.

He takes the day off, tries to give himself some space to think, process, reassess, and figure out his next steps. But instead…his Mom is in town, and in his kitchen, cooking him breakfast.

What is she doing here? He doesn’t know, it’s a surprise, and a good surprise because we know he has a good relationship to his parents, and you can tell that from the way he interacts with his mother. But a mother is going to mother, so she’s going to comment on his eating habits, and he’s going to lie about how often he eats instant noodles, and she’s going to check in on his health, having seen him absolutely plastered the previous evening, and she is going to ask about the very kind and handsome man that helped Pat home and made sure he was safe.

And she’s going to say a passing comment about Pat being a burden to his friend.

Which, looking at Pat’s face here, was not really what he wants to be hearing at this particular moment. Not when he is trying to get Jeng out of his head, not when he is trying to create space to figure out what he is feeling about that entire situation, the reality that he could have what he wants, the understanding that Jeng has been wise to Pat’s attraction to him this whole time. Not when he got in to that whole situation with Jeng last night because he was trying to distract himself from being sad about breaking up with Put. His parents live in another country, they have no idea what is going on in his life, his mother sees her son was out with a nice man and so has no reason to suspect something would have been wrong. So she stumbles right in to one of Pat’s sore spots.

“Where did you meet him?” she asks and Pat’s goes:

If anyone needs a live action shocked pikachu face, look no further. He knows he cannot tell her. He knows what it would sound like, what it would seem like, how inappropriate it would appear for him to say “I met him at work” and even more so if he has to say “that is my boss.”

He’s had the realization that Jeng is gay, and therefore that a relationship between Jeng and Pat is possible, and he is now having the realization of just how bad it would appear to literally anyone on the outside. Even now, even before they are dating, when they are just coworkers and friends, his mother knowing that he was out, late at night, that drunk around his boss??? Absolutely not. Pat recognizes that and quickly shifts the focus of the conversation away from Jeng, asking his mother about a doctor’s appointment she is supposed to be getting to.

Another outfit, and another day has passed. Pat is staring at the stuffed tiger that he got on his furniture -date- shopping trip with Jeng. A stuffed animal that he has been using as a replacement for the shark stuffed animal that he had when he was with Put and that Put has used to manipulate Pat into talking to him and into considering re-entering into a relationship with him. This tiger here is serving as both a reminder of Put, the fact that Pat was unable to love Put because of his feelings for Jeng, and as a reminder of Jeng, whose sexuality, level of availability, and messy HR potentiality are all front and center in Pat’s mind. So he hides the tiger away in a drawer where he doesn’t have to look at it, so that he isn’t faced with a constant reminder of the personal crises in his life, because he is young, and his parents are here, and he’s never experienced this particular combination of emotions before, and to talk to his parents about his dilemma he would have to explain this situation to his parents and I don’t think Pat believes he can talk to anyone about it. Because all of his friends besides Ae are friends from work, Jaab is Jeng’s brother, Jen and Jaab are going through it and Jen is quitting, Kanon was on the production team and Kanon is married to Ae so whatever Pat says to Ae may get back to Kanon pretty quickly. Chot is fully incorporated into the office life and is fully aware of what is going on (and in fact may think Pat and Jeng are much further ahead in their relationship than they are) but Pat thinks he’s being sly about his feelings for Jeng, and Chot being directly in the office rather than on an outside production team is not going to be a draw to talking about his feelings for his boss.

Meanwhile, Jeng is approaching the other queer in the office to ask if Chot has seen Pat cause he hasn’t been in the office in a few days and realizes that Pat is taking days off without even

notifying him. Readers, I do not need to show you Chot’s face throughout all of this. Chot is 150% convinced that Jeng and Pat are in the middle of a lover’s quarrel. I need a Chot live reaction to finding out that Pat and Jeng haven’t fucked yet, and a gravestone for Chot when he learns that Pat thought Jeng was straight.

Alright, so, Jeng is in his sad boy hours clearly pining after Pat in the office in front of Chot, but pushes that all back down in order to perform his necessary duties as a boss. Jeng too, is trying to keep control of his emotions, but will end up losing his grip of them and having an utter break down.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat

Pat’s Mom is here, but she’s settled in, and Pat’s off work, so maybe now he has time to try to process some of his emotions?

Nope! Dad appears!

And what? Another surprise! Another parent coming to stay at his house without warning, and for what reason?

…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pat has completely lost track of the passage of time. Which hey, works for Ae going from 0 to 30 weeks out of nowhere. Why does his Dad come to Thailand around this time every year?

It’s almost Pat’s birthday, and Pat has completely forgotten. This man has been juggling all of his work, a ton of his coworkers assignments, MLM schemes (the only mlm Pat is interested in is…nevermind), the Forge project, The Forge commercial shoot, leading the commercial shoot, his relationship with Put, his breakup with Put, navigating remaining professional in a workspace with his recent ex when emotions are still raw, and his mounting feelings for actually gay actually single hot boss man. On top of that, Pat is living alone, surviving off of ramen noodles, and (iirc) waiting to see if he makes it past the probationary period and is actually going to be allowed to stay on as an employee when that window is over. Jen is an adult, and not one Pat knows very well, Chot has his shit together and is engaged, Ae and Kanon are adults, married, and soon-to-be-parents, and Jaab is his age but is just as much if not more of a hot mess than Pat is. Pat gets convinced to go on that restaurant tour by Ae and their other friend, but those two are straight and therefore will not get what Pat is spiraling about after finding out Jeng is gay. So where can Pat go? Who can he turn to for advice? Who is going to have the time and the understanding and the patience to help him navigate all of these rising pressures?

Well, we get a good indication, of where that is heading because Pat’s dad takes one look at Pat’s utter shock at realizing that he has forgotten his own birthday and states:

Life must be pretty hard lately. His father is in the know, he’s gettin’ wise, gettin’ with it. It’s a great dynamic of Pat pretending to be fine for the sake of his mother, and then having no ability to hide from his father because the initial shock of the realization meant he wasn’t able to mask his emotional state.

He burns his ramen noodles, his father cooks for him. Gives him vegetables. Calls it like it is in Pat’s life even though he doesn’t have the full context.

Pat returns to work, and Chot starts doing his gay fairy godmother deal, vague-posting about what he thinks Pat’s problem is through the lens of his own issues. He knows Pat is young, and Pat is coming out of a relationship, and that Pat does not have a lot of guidance on the whole Being Gay in Thailand thing, despite being pretty comfortable in his sexuality and navigating his relationship with Put pretty maturely, if we’re honest. Chot is reaching out, Chot is extending the hand, Chot is trying to turn the tide of their relationship from just work friends to friends who can rely on one another in their personal life.

Now, Pat has been dissociating for the entire conversation thus far, because realizing he has forgotten his birthday because he’s been so caught up in everything has started his death spiral. When Jeng came out he tripped into it and was gripping at the edge of his remaining sanity by trying to give himself time and space to work through his emotions, but the arrival of his father and the understanding that he has not been thinking about himself for however long is what starts this final (and ultimately unsuccessful) attempt at managing his emotional state.

But Chot’s admission that being gay is hard for Krit, snaps Pat out of it a little bit, and we get Pat’s “At least he’s straightforward with showing you that he loves you” and now…Pat has not been paying a whole lot of attention to what Chot was saying, so this is either Pat being very good at processing information while dissociating, and/or Pat picking up on the part of the story that is most relevant to him and attaching his own frustrations with his current situation to it.

“At least he is straightforward with showing you that he loves you”

Okay, so let’s explore who this is about. That’s right. It’s about literally every possible romantic pursuit of his in the last few weeks/months. Put, MLM guy, and Jeng.

On the Put end of things, Put left Pat two years prior, valuing his job over his relationship with Pat while simultaneously struggling with his own queerness. When Pat and Put get back together, Pat pours his whole heart and soul into trying to make the relationship work. Because he needs it to work. Because he’s in love with his boss and he can’t be in love with his boss because that way madness (and job loss) lies. We do see moments of them being lovey-dovey, we see moments of flirtation, but the show is extremely intentional about showing that Pat and Put’s relationship is not a happy one. Put ignores Pat over dinner, that dinner scene where Put is mostly focused on his cellphone is dimly and cooly lit, with the tiniest smidge of warmth behind Pat and nothing anywhere close to Put.

They make out in a hotel and Pat asks if Put likes him, and Put does not give him an answer, he just flips the question back around on Pat. Pat doesn’t answer either, not at first, he just kisses Put, and then realizes that it doesn’t feel the way it used to, and whatever feelings he may have had for Put before are no longer there. Because he is in love with his boss. So he leaves Put and goes to the party to seek out the person he wants to be around/with. When Pat breaks up with Put he calls him out on his attempts to manipulate him. So Pat is sad about the break up, sure, and he is allowed to be. But he is also reconciling here with the fact that Put never showed interest in him, unless and until Pat was threatening to leave.

Then we get MLM guy, who is very forward in his interest with Pat. Pat is picking up what MLM guy is putting down (he thinks), and gets all excited about the prospect of having another Hot Tall Boi to channel his energy into so that he isn’t left to think about Jeng or Put’s return to Thailand. Pat is excited for the “date” and is devastated when it turns out this man wasn’t interested in him at all, he just wants him to join a multilevel marketing scheme. After which Pat is harassed at work and hounded by this man until he is literally threatened. So now Pat has to grapple also with the knowledge that the one person who seemed to be obviously, openly interested in him, was just using those emotions to get something out of him. Yet another manipulation. On the Jeng end of things, Jeng is forced to be subtle about his love for Pat by nature of the power imbalance inherent in a boss and employee relationship. Jeng has been intentionally engineering his romantic advances to have as much plausible deniability as possible. Which means, Pat, thinking that Jeng is straight, has not picked up on them. Or rather has convinced himself that Jeng wasn’t being intentional about making moves. If Jeng had been more obvious, had pursued him the way that Pat is used to being pursued, that is, more explicitly, if Jeng had even been more obviously queer, then Pat would have known immediately. But Pat has a luxury that Jeng and even Put do not, which is that him being clockable will not ruin his whole life the way that Put and Jeng as famous, prominent people would run the gauntlet if that information were to get out. Put says it himself in Episode 8: “A famous person like you might not be able to come out a lot, right?”

Jeng isn’t clockable as queer to the average person, and as Pat has been actively trying not to read into things, and has been trying to rein in his own horniness for Jeng, Jeng isn’t clockable to him either. SO…all of this to say that Pat feels that Put was not straightforward with their love, and that Jeng has been disguising all of his attempts at wooing Pat under a safety blanket of work. So Pat is feeling primarily hurt, lied to, and betrayed.

So, what we end up getting with Jeng is…manipulation. He has manipulated every situation to get Pat and him alone together, while at the same time not clueing Pat in to the fact that is what he was doing. While additionally not clueing Pat in to the fact he is gay. While also not clueing Pat into the fact that he’s Jaab’s brother until Pat literally walks into the middle of an interaction between Jaab and Jeng. While also not initially clueing Pat in to the fact he is Pat’s boss even after Jeng realized.

The past two people that Pat has been interested in have manipulated him over and over again.

His coworkers have manipulated him over and over again.

How else is Pat supposed to see Jeng not being explicit about his feelings? He’s being manipulated once again by Jeng not saying anything.

Chot lets Pat know that he can talk to him about anything, and Pat says “it’s ok, it’ll pass”.

Why is that relevant? CAUSE OF PARALLELS THAT COME LATER.

Anyway, Pat is giving an explicit invitation to talk about his feelings, and he brushes it off. Because Chot is an office friend in his office where his boss who he is having feelings about works, and Pat is very much oblivious to the fact that any gay within a 20 mile radius can see what is going on between Pat and Jeng. So he thinks he can’t be honest. Because that puts him and Jeng both in a sticky situation.

So he puts on a brave face, because he thinks that he can, because Jeng isn’t supposed to be in the office today. Because Chot told Pat that Jeng was out and Chot was covering. (Yet another reason why Pat may not want to talk to Chot about Jeng, Chot is literally acting as his boss right now). Because the thoughts Pat is having, the feelings that he is having, they are manageable so long as Pat does not have to face Jeng…

Except Jeng appears. On a day that he is most definitely not supposed to be here. They are at working, they are at work. Jeng does exactly what Pat has just indirectly told Chot he wishes someone would do.

He pulls a “boyfriend” and gives his jacket to his freezing love interest.

Now, is this something Jeng would do in the office? I fucking hope not. But currently, Jeng and Pat are sitting in the back of a dark room, with literally all the other queer people in the office. This is a safe space, this is a shelter. It’s why and how Jeng and Pat’s closeness has progressed in the most recent episodes. Because they have been away from the physical office space, around the straight and sometimes homophobic coworkers, and instead, on set with literally every gay boy known to Man. Jeng knows Chot knows, Jeng knows Jaab knows, having realized that Pat had no idea that he was gay, Jeng has decided he has been approaching things wrong, and gets bolder.

But, Pat has a) still not processed everything, b) is still oblivious to the fact that everyone around him knows exactly what is happening, c) is in the office, and d) is in the office with JENG who Pat was explicitly told would not be there. So you can imagine the stress he is under, and you can imagine with his track-record of manipulative men, that he is thinking very much that Jeng is playing with his emotions.

Because Jeng is playing with his emotions. Not intentionally. But Pat himself has never experienced this particular set of challenges before and Jeng is always on the brain. Pat’s emotional state is out of whack and it is at least 50% Jeng’s fault. Pat, again very maturely, hands that token of affection off to Chot, so that it will seem like nothing. So that it will read as nothing to anyone around him. Because Pat doesn’t know that they know.

Pat, who has still not had the opportunity to get the time and space that he needs from Jeng, because his parents are in town on an extended stay, because he had to go back to work eventually, because Jeng is now right there, once again does the mature thing, and walks away from the situation. He makes space.

Jeng follows after him, which again, makes it extremely obvious that Jeng is acting inappropriately close to Pat. But Jeng knows everyone in the room knows, which is why he can get away with it. But Pat just wants to be alone and Jeng is not letting him.

They retreat to an isolated corner. Where they have one of the juiciest conversations to date:

Jeng: “Did I make you uncomfortable in any way?’

Pat: “No, I’m just tired,”

Jeng: “Is it my fault?”

Pat: “No,”

Jeng: “I’m sorry”

Pat: “Why are you saying sorry to me, when I said it wasn’t your fault?”

Jeng: “You didn’t answer my text, ever since that day”

Pat: “Mr. Jeng, could you stop texting me? If it’s not work related. Don’t invite me to go eat. Don’t drop me off at home.”

And Pat says all of this without making eye contact with Jeng. When he finally does look up? He can see how devastated Jeng looks.

It confuses him in fact, to see this strong of an emotional reaction to Pat drawing these boundaries. Because, while Pat has not explicitly stated this yet, he thinks Jeng is fucking with him. This reaction is running very counter to what Pat is anticipating from this conversation.

So he has to say something else to fill the silence, and to soften the blow:

“Uh…I want to thank you. Thank you for everything. But please don’t do it again. Especially in front of everyone.”

“I can’t say no.”

And I take this two ways coming from Pat. First that Jeng being his boss puts Pat in the terrible situation of potentially not feeling comfortable saying no to Jeng. Because Jeng has power over Pat, even though we all know (or I at least hope based on this entire show so far) that Jeng is not the type of person that would take a personal vendetta out on Pat for rejecting his advances in the office”

Which is why I want to take a secondary lens to this conversation, and read that “I can’t say no” line as a double entendre. Jeng has let Pat know he is gay, Pat has placed all of their interactions into the context of that new information, Pat has realized that Jeng has been pursuing him this whole time. Pat realizes there may be reciprocated feelings involved. Pat tells Chot indirectly that he wants someone to be straightforward in their love. Jeng gives him the jacket. Pat has now been offered a much more clear admission from Jeng about his interest. Pat has feelings for Jeng. Pat has very strong feelings for Jeng. Pat hangs off of Jeng at every given opportunity the second he is out of his head. If Jeng pursues him, if Jeng is genuinely interested in him, if these feelings he has are reciprocated, and Jeng does not give Pat space. Pat will give in to his feelings and they will start an incredibly inappropriate workplace relationship.

Pat can’t say no because Jeng is his boss, and Pat can’t say no because he’s been DTF from the moment he laid his eyes on Jeng.

And again, I argue that Pat has actually been navigating this entire situation incredibly maturely. He removes himself from situations where he may be seen engaging in inappropriate workplace relations, and sets firm boundaries around what type of contact he and Jeng can have.

Pat tries to leave, Jeng pulls him back, wraps him in a hug, and does the thing Pat wishes people would do and is straightforward in his love for Pat:

Gif from @bellepark

Now here is where shit gets fun (read: terrible) for Pat emotionally. Because, ya know, he hasn’t already been dealing with enough shit. Pat sees Jeng: handsome, rich, successful, talented and cannot possibly fathom a reality where Jeng is actually in to him, a 25 year old in his first job, no wealth, no successful business ventures, who is feeling very much like the is untalented because of Chris’ mom on the commercial set. Jeng is everything, Jeng has everything, what could Pat possibly offer?

Gif from @bellepark

It legitimately does not compute. It is far, far simpler for Pat to assume that Jeng is fucking with him, toying with his emotions, possibly even trying to get Pat to admit to feelings so he can turn around and have him fired.

And If it is true that Jeng likes him, then how much has Jeng’s crush impacted his ability to accurately critique Pat? Was Pat only told that he was doing a good job by Jeng because Jeng had a crush? Was Pat given the commercial spot because Jeng had a crush? Is Pat even good at anything or does Jeng just want to fuck him and is therefore elevating his positions in order to leverage Pat’s growing importance to get Pat to do what he wants?

Pat has spent too much time lately being manipulated and being bullied and that is where he is coming from in his interaction with Jeng here. He is young, he does not understand what Jeng could possibly, legitimately want in a relationship with him, and if he lets himself believe that it makes sense for them to be together, then he will not be able to stop himself from getting in to a very dicey HR situation.

Jeng goes home, has a #hotgirlmeltdown and this is where I bring up the parallel that Pat told Chot “It’ll pass” and unfortunately for me Gaga has made it so that when I screenshot I get a black screen so I can’t capture the translation there. But I will just write it down:

“I can handle it…I think I can…I’m fine,”

It reminds me of Pat saying “it’s okay, it’ll pass”

Both of them are lying, but Pat was detached from his feelings when he lied whereas Jeng is consumed by his.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat so we are gonna cut to Jen’s going away party.

Pat is wearing the same outfit as when Jeng confessed and Pat rejected Jeng so we know that Pat is coming in to this party riding a massive emotional wave, and trying to temper that storm. Because he doesn’t have time to process that right now, because this is Jen’s party, and because Ae sees Jen sulking and hands Pat the responsibility of talking with him:

Pat is gonna have to compartmentalize whatever feelings he is having to go handle Jen’s emotional state.

The significant beats I picked up on in this conversation with Jen are the following:

Pat saying he wished he had a home in another province to go back to

Jen saying it is a safe zone for him

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems immediately crushed by Jen saying that he cannot pursue his dreams back home because everything is in Bangkok

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems crushed again when Jen says “Well, everything is here and look at how bad it is”

Jen brushes off his own feelings and asks Pat how he is doing, and here is the crucial part. Huge shout out to @lurkingshan for pointing this out in a conversation we had last night. Jen is quitting. Jen is no longer a coworker to Pat. Pat has someone who is gay, who is no longer going to be involved in company business, and who is moving home to another province and therefore Pat can feel comfortable being honest because Jen is about to become very detached from his world.

“I don’t know, I’m very confused,” Pat says. And this is the first time he has voiced an emotion since he told Jeng he was sad about his break up with Put.

“Is it Mr. Jeng?”

Pat has his shit rocked by Jen asking him about Jeng so casually, like it is no big deal, like he is In The Know. Pat has really been operating under the assumption that no one could tell he had a crush on Jeng.

“These two brothers are the same” Jen gets it. Jen is telling Pat he gets it, and he’s telling Pat that neither Jeng nor Pat have been slick.

“I don’t know, it’s like he’s playing with my feelings,”

And I know this line may be a point of confusion for some people, because we know that Jeng is being sincere. We know, as an audience, how much of a fucking simp Jeng is for Pat. Jeng would crawl on his hands and knees for Pat. Jeng would almost certainly renounce his family and his title and his wealth for Pat. And if we didn’t get that from the last eight episodes, we are explicitly told how much Jeng likes Pat immediately before this scene. Pat consumed every waking thought in Jeng’s head. WE know this. Pat does not.

Pat thinks Jeng is playing with his feelings because of what I outline earlier re: all the manipulation Pat has been through recently with MLM guy, with Put, and with the situations Jeng has manipulated to get them alone together.

Pat believes Jeng is too good to be true, because he’s moved past the stage in the office job where he was so burnt out, stressed out, and exploited that every piece of constructive criticism felt like a personal attack. Pat isn’t angry at his workplace anymore, and therefore isn’t channeling his rage at Jeng anymore, and therefore isn’t focusing on Jeng’s flaws anymore, and as a result thinks Jeng reciprocating Pat’s feelings is too good to be true. Also because Pat doesn’t trust himself. Pat doesn’t see the parts of himself that Jeng sees. Pat doesn’t know why Jeng would like hin because Pat doesn’t understand the ways in which Pat brings life and joy and play in to Jeng’s otherwise extremely serious, almost entirely work-related life.

But Jen will not let Pat have that. Jen is older, Jen is wiser, Jen is an outside, relatively neutral third party where Pat and Jeng are concerned (Jaab is a whole ‘nother story). Jen can understand where and how Jeng and Pat are good for each other, and as a result he is quick to tell Pat not to sell himself short.

And he gives one of the most important pieces of advice that he can give to Pat is that if Jeng truly likes him, he’d find a way to tell Pat.

This singular piece of advice is going to save their relationship I tell you.

Whatever hope, whatever resolve that Pat has to navigate this storm. To figure out if Jeng actually likes him, if Jeng will do something that convinces Pat that he’s serious is crushed the instant Chot tells Pat that Jeng resigned.

Now, those of us in the workforce should be screaming “FUCK YEAH!” because Jeng is taking the responsible adult route by stepping away from his role as boss. Which, if Pat and Jeng were to get together would eliminate any conflict of interest, and if Pat and Jeng weren’t to get together would eliminate any fears Pat would have about Jeng a) harassing him b) firing him or c) retaliating for Pat’s previous rejection.

But…to Pat?! Well, he’s just ruined Jeng’s life. Jeng quit his job, from the company that he built. Pat understands that between Jeng’s position and Pat’s position, Pat is by far the more replaceable of the two. This is Jeng’s family’s company. Pat has realized that he fucked up. Pat is realizing that Jeng is not overstepping boundaries because he is trying to harass Pat, but because he has genuine feelings because the second Pat said to keep it work-only Jeng up and fucking left so that Pat wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him around.

Pat is thinking, Pat is contemplating, Pat is dissociating, and as he goes to wander like a zombie back to his house at the end of the day, SURPRISE Happy Birthday, Pat! Mr. Jeng baked you a cake!

AND THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS CONSIDERING THAT PAT FORGOT HIS OWN BIRTHDAY! But Jeng remembered, and Jeng made something for him. I would love to go on and on and on and on about the lighting in this scene, but this write up is, as usual, far far longer than I anticipated, and a lot of the lighting details were covered in this phenomenal post by @istanchan

So we are just gonna go with the major take away from this scene. The flame is ignited between Pat and Jeng, Jeng is out of focus, and when Pat blows out the candles, extinguishing the flame, Jeng comes in to focus. Pat is now forced to face his feelings about Jeng, in a way he has been desperately trying to suppress for however long of a time frame this episode covers.

Pat goes home, yet again dissociating because the second that he reattaches his consciousness to his body he knows its fucking over.

And at this point, Pat has exhausted all avenues. He tried to get over his initial crush on Jeng by dating Put, and realized that he was not actually interested in that relationship. He tried to give himself distance and time to process his emotions immediately following the coming out incident, and was interrupted by his mother, he tried to brush off his feelings in the hope that they would pass, he returned to work and tried to get back into the groove of things under the safe assumption that Jeng would not be there, only to have Jeng show up. He asked Jeng to keep their interactions work related only to have Jeng hug him and tell him he really likes him, he started to have a conversation about his feelings with the only person who would understand, who is about to leave the province, and he maybe is feeling a bit better, and certainly more resolved. We can tell that also in the way that Pat approaches Jeng’s office after his talk with Jen, only to have the rug pulled out from under him with the update that Jeng has resigned.

He has tried and tried and tried to get over Jeng. He has tried and tried and tried to convince himself that Jeng can’t actually possibly like him back. This man has tried. And he can’t take it anymore. He sits down, his parents sing him happy birthday, they immediately pick up on the fact that Pat isn’t doing well, and they ask the fateful question:

And this is the first time Pat has really had to sit and process everything. This is the point where he settles down, both exhausted and having exhausted all other options…and everything hits at once.

“This is the year I forgot my own birthday” my life has been so busy and chaotic I have fully lost track of time (starting a new job, being exploited at new job, getting new boss, getting micromanaged by new boss, being hate crimed at work by my coworkers, best friend gets pregnant, working to get Forge client secured, trying to do 90% of the labor in a one sided relationship with Put, filming Forge commercial and trying to convince the Forge people that he is competent)

“I even forgot that you’d come back to see me every year,” I am a bad child for forgetting my parents would come to visit.

“It’s like I focused on everything except myself,” I have been avoiding my own feelings and focusing on others (i have been suppressing my feelings for Jeng, I have been trying to put those feelings elsewhere, I poured all my energy in to work and in to the MLM guy and in to Put)

“But I don’t know how to deal with this feeling,” I have tried fucking everything I know to manage my emotional state, which I know is already a weak spot of mine and something I am actively working on and nothing I have tried has brought me even remotely close to working through these emotions.

His parents immediately jump in to help, but the problem is Pat without context is not making a ton of sense, and the only thing they really have to latch on to is “I don’t know how to deal with this feeling” and his parents give him a hard truth.

“You can’t escape anywhere.”

It was something that Pat started to realize in his conversation with Jen, when he told Jen he wished he had a house to escape to, and Jen reminded him that he could have no dreams there. But Jen is heartbroken and fleeing from the bad things in his life, so it hits a little different when Pat’s parents, who he loves, who seem to generally have their lives together, who are divorced but still clearly get along, who love and care for one another despite no longer being married, and who are emotionally very mature, and shining examples to Pat of how to navigate emotional turmoil look right at him and say “you can’t escape this feeling,”

And Pat has a breakdown.

Which, in my opinion, makes complete and total sense and is incredibly justified considering everything that he has been through in recent months. Everything that he has been trying to navigate and manage while he is alone in another country, away from his family, with no friends to talk to because of the ways they are connected to him.

And doesn’t it just suck that you finally have the people who have supported you all your life look right at you and be unable to do anything but hold you through your tears. Physically he has support, but there is no way out of these emotions but through them.

This is the release, and he still has a lot of shit to sort out, but he’s had a good cry and he’s ready to press on. He goes shopping with Ae, and while he does still seem distracted, he is doing better, he is participating in conversation rather than fully dissociating, he is teasing her (“can i have that cake?”) so he is moving more towards a point of equilibrium. Ae has her baby, makes him an uncle, and that is enough to shake Pat out of the depression spiral he has been in because look at the amazing miracle of life he has just witnessed.

He returns home from another chaotic and exhausting evening (helping his bestie deliver her baby on the back of a bus #casual) and finds a package waiting for him.

An incredibly well utilized in-universe ad, of a snack Pat mentioned he liked once, in passing, months ago to Jeng. Jeng has always paid attention to Pat, and I don’t know how much attention Pat has allowed himself to pay to Jeng that would get him to realize that. It’s the aspect of this whole thing that Pat has not been ready or willing to acknowledge. Because the second he realizes that Jeng is gay, the depth of Jeng’s engagement and focus on Pat becomes a lot more clear.

Pat find the happy birthday note from Jeng and collapses on to the bed surrounded by the snacks to think about things.

To think, in particular, about what Jen said about Jeng finding ways to show he cares if he is serious.

It cuts to Jeng, who is being driven to the brink of madness, who has been trying to maintain distance, but needs more than life itself to let Pat know that he is serious. It has been days, days at least since he has last spoken to Pat, and he cannot stop thinking about the final thing Pat said to him “Why do you like me, it doesn’t make sense,”

Jeng sends this message

And the episode ends before we see Pat get that text. I am very excited to see his reaction when he reads that, surrounded by wasabi peas.

Now, maybe I am way way overanalyzing all of this because I will always come to Pat’s defense, maybe I am trying to convince people that if you just follow the lines and the lights and the body language everything you need to understand Pat is right there because there are so many parts of Pat that live in me, (though many that don’t), maybe I am blind to where the gaps in this episode rest when it comes to how they wrote Pat’s story, but I didn’t need more explicitly stated moments for Pat leading up to this breakdown because, well…

It makes sense to me.

(thank you to anyone who made it to the end, I recognize this is a long post even for me, haha oopsie. I would be unsurprised if I hit 10 hours total of work on this post between screen-shotting, double checking scenes, and writing it)

#step by step #step by step the series #step by step analysis post #step by step meta #step by step discussion #jengpat #manben #ben bunyapol #man trisanu #dee hup house #jeng x pat #gonna have to start getting an editor on my posts or something to tone them down #damn #at least y'all are well trained in reading lots of text a la fanfiction style #maybe i can fool you in to reading this whole thing

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