A collaboration of crossover short stories from one creator into another creator's universe. Make sure to check out everyone's stories in the links in the author's note.

Until then, enjoy this four-part special in the dark, mysterious, and unnerving world of The Stains Beneath our Skin.

Weightlessness gently swayed him. Like the ocean rocking a boat, cradling it, constant, even as night dispersed at the crack of dawn. As a stream of light cast over the boat, Daehyun found himself no longer at sea but sunken into a bed, stirring awake.

Cracking his eyes open, Daehyun grimaced at the sun pooling into the room. His body no longer swayed with dizziness, focusing instead on the cold and damp cloth resting on his forehead.

A figure blocked the sun, and he blinked his vision clearing. Trailing the length of the other’s jaw to his small chin, he admired the rosy lips that hung slightly open and his lithe neck disappearing under his collar. The morning glow surrounded the caretaker, Highlighting the tips of his hair and his hazel eyes with dashes of gold.

“Taeyong…” Daehyun crooked, shocked at the soreness of his voice. It was barely a whisper, but Taeyong’s sharp eyes flicked away from the towel and down at his face, his worried expression melting into a relieved smile.

“You’re awake,” Taeyong hummed, tossing the rag away and shifting closer, Daehyun squinting as the harsh light hit his eyes. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“The light’s too bright,” Daehyun groaned and tried to cover his eyes with his arms but a sharp pain shot through his body. He gripped his side and groaned. “What the hell—”

“You were in an accident,” Taeyong said and walked over to the ornate curtains, the golden silhouette disappearing as he closed it.

“An accident?”

He nodded as he returned to the bed, helping Daehyun sit up. “You fell off the roof.”

Daehyun stared at him, furrowing his brows. “I fell off… the roof?” Clenching his jaw, he hid his aching pain, furrowing his brows as he shuffled through his memory, but found nothing but fog. “What was I doing on the roof?”

Taeyong shrugged. “I don’t know. When I came back from town, I spotted you from the gate. But by the time I drove up the driveway, you fell.”

Conjuring up his strength to remember, two faces flashed. “Maybe I was doing something with Seunghyeon and Myungsuk,” he suggested.

“Who?” Taeyong tilted his head.

Daehyun frowned and shook his head. “Nevermind.” He didn’t want to get them in trouble.

His eyes glazed over the pale blue room, covered in Victorian antiques. He spotted a chair in the corner. An ugly, upholstered chair that sparked his memory.

“Wasn’t I supposed to only stay the weekend?” he said and tsked. “I’m sorry, Taeyong. I’ve really overstayed my welcome, haven’t I?”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Taeyong quickly shook his head. “I mean, I was worried sick. I mean, when you said you’ve never been to the English countryside, I really wanted you to have a good time,” he said and bit his trembling lip. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“Hey,” Daehyun said gently. He bore through the pain shooting down his arm as he reached for Taeyong’s cheek, lifting his face up. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to get on the roof. I mean, I can’t even remember why I was there,” he said, hoping the smile would return on Taeyong’s face.

Taeyong stiffened before leaning into his touch, his eyelashes fluttering, similar to Daehyun’s heart. “Well, what do you remember?” Taeyong asked, his eyes watching him with catlike curiosity.

“Well,” Daehyun forced himself to look away, dropping his hand as he thought. The more current the memories, the fuzzier they got, so he went further.

“I came to London as a final trip,” he said, gripping the sheet as he frowned. “Before I go back to New York for a trial.” Daehyun pinched the bridge of his nose, not enough strength to be angry anymore. All his recent suffering. Losing his job, his house, his face splattered over national news. All for crimes he did not commit. “Urgh, I need to call my lawyer.”

“It’s okay.” Taeyong placed his hand over Daehyun’s. “They came to see you.”

“They did?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. Did they fly across the ocean without even waking him up?

Taeyong nodded. “They came as soon as I told them you were injured. They were pleased. Said it’d give them more time to work on your case,” he said. “They said that you should rest as long as possible.”

“I see,” Daehyun hummed. In a high-profile case like his, every minute counted. And if it was better for him, so be it.

Although, being here, in this outdated room, injured and cared for by a beautiful man he barely knew, was quite the situation. Daehyun cracked a smile. “How did I even end up here?”

Taeyong tensed before he chuckled. “Well, we saw each other at a bar and talked and talked,” he said and drew his hand back, folding them together on his lap, fidgeting. “And after the bar closed, we laid in a park and kept drinking. And I suggested you come visit and,” he shrugged, his cheeks going red. “You agreed.”

With wide, doe-eyes, Taeyong peeked up at him, his face as red as his glossy lips. They looked so soft and inviting.

Daehyun tore his gaze away and cleared his throat. “Shame I can’t remember what you looked like when I agreed to come.”

“Oh. I”— Taeyong cleared his throat— “I wasn’t anything special,” He insisted, shaking out his shoulders like a flustered bird.

Daehyun chuckled but was cut short with a hiss of pain as his ribs ached. Taeyong shot up from his seat.

“I’ll get some more medicine,” he said, hurrying out of the room.

His steps echoed through the wooden floorboards. Daehyun’s body grew heavier as he closed his eyes, the throbbing headache making the room spin. It was a shame he didn’t remember getting here.

“You’re doing much better, Mr. Kim,” Dr. Allen said, adjusting his glasses and flattening his white hair. “A little exercise, just walking around, will be good for you,” he said and picked up the cane leaning against the nightstand, holding it out to him.

Daehyun held back a grimace; he had hoped it was Dr. Allen’s cane and not for him.

“Thank you, Doctor. I will,” he said and took the cane, glaring at its bland faux wood texture.

The doctor chuckled a wheezy laugh and turned to Taeyong. “Well, I’ll be off then.”

Taeyong nodded and stood up from his seat by the window. “I’ll show you out, Dr. Allen. Thank you for stopping by,” he said, and Daehyu watched as Taeyong led the old doctor out of the room.

Sighing, Daehyun pushed himself up straighter. His pain had gone down significantly the last couple of days and he was glad the worst of it was over, no longer confined to this pompous room anymore.

It was torture except for the hours Taeyong quietly sat by his side, adorably biting the tip of his thumb as he read books, or humming and playing with his hair. Or Daehyun’s favourite, how he’d turn away blushing when he noticed Daehyung watching him.

The door cracked open, and Taeyong walked back in, faster than he expected. “He’s already gone?” he asked. Taeyong blinked and Daehyun shook his head. Where else would he be?

Taeyong’s face softened. “So, how do you feel?”

Daehyun sighed and held up the cane. “I feel like an old man,” he muttered. “But it’s better than staying in bed for a second longer,” he said and groaned as he sat up, his stiff joints cracking.

Taeyong helped him out of bed and linked their arms, leading him out of the room. “You’d make a handsome old man, you know,” he said, the tips of his ears going red.

Daehyun smirked, imagining Taeyong as the hot, young husband. But he kept his thoughts to himself.

From the moment Daehyun laid eyes on him, he knew Taeyong was a beauty. A tall, slender silhouette with graceful movements as he glided through the crowd that very first night. Simple with clean lines. Elegant timelessness.

It made Daehyun wonder how Taeyong could live in such a dated manor in the countryside.

Mahogany wood for the walls, and an imported red runner extending the length of the hall. Consoles were placed at strategic intervals with a single vase and manicured bouquets in each. Lifeless and cold. Only to be seen, not touched.

“Tell me Taeyong,” he said. “Are you actually married to some old Brit?”

“Huh? No! Why would you say that?” Taeyong gasped, halting in his tracks.

“Ah, sorry,” Daehyun said. “I’m just confused about why you’d have such an old house. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Well, that’s mean. You’re hurting me by saying that,” Taeyong said, trying to tease, but his voice was still quiet.

Daehyun frowned.

“I’m sorry. Just because it doesn’t suit you, doesn’t mean it’s ugly.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicked up. “Really?”

Daehyun nodded, his heart swelling as Taeyong relaxed. He’d do anything to keep that smile on his face, even if it meant pretending to find the hollow halls comforting.