Insu stopped right outside the doors of the university theater.

He hesitated. He could hear voices beyond the door and knew that the drama club was currently in rehearsal. 

He wasn’t sure exactly why he was there.

No. He knew why he was there; he just didn’t want to admit it.

It had been a few weeks since he had last seen Shihwan in his apartment when that had happened.

It had been more than shocking. His friend’s usual calm and affable demeanor was nowhere to be found as his large hands pinned to the floor, burying his nose into the ‘v’ of Insu’s legs, then… sniffing.

Sniffing.

Insu took a deep breath to stop the tingle he felt run up his spine.

What the hell had that been about?

And how the hell could Shihwan smell the other guy on Insu’s body?

It was impossible. Insu had made sure to wash thoroughly, changing every article of clothing, even his wallet.

That had been strange… but what was stranger was the words Shihwan had muttered at the end of it all, the words that sprang to life a useless feeling of hope.

Insu cursed under his breath.

And after all that, after putting Insu’s emotions through the wringer, where was the offender now?

How could he do that, ditch him, and then not reach out to Insu for an entire week?

Insu muttered angrily under his breath, then stopped as he gazed at the doors leading into the theatre.

He was an idiot to seek him out when the lack of communication should have clearly told him just how uninterested Shihwan really was in him.

Suddenly feeling pathetic, he turned to leave when he heard a voice through the closed door. It was loud and awkward, a man obviously reading lines that he had no idea how to convey.

And Insu knew exactly who it was.

Cursing himself once again for being an idiot, he opened the doors.

The theatre was dark where he stood, the only spots of light on the stage in the front of the building, two flights down, and his eyes were instantly drawn to the scene below.

Shihwan stood in the center of the stage, loudly and clumsily reading the script in his hand. It was so incredibly evident that Shihwan could not act that it bordered on endearing.

But that wasn’t a surprise to Insu. After all, that was one of the things he loved about Shihwan; the guy approached everything shamelessly, giving his all. Like a little fool. 

Insu watched him for a long moment, smiling as Shihwan read a line dramatically, then paused in the middle of what was likely the climax of the declaration to stare down at his script, only to look back up and finish the line with as much aplomb as a king.

The grin fell from his lips however, when a moment later, a much smaller man went up to him, laughing as he complimented Shihwan’s acting.

Insu knew immediately who he was. Everything about him pointed to a tiny, cute animal. His light brown hair was fluffy and stood out like a pomeranian. He was of a small build, similar to that of the average woman. His large eyes and smiling face completely softened his features.

He was, as Shihwan had so aptly described him, a puppy.

And he was the exact opposite of Insu.

Unable to help himself as he fell into his perverse misery, Insu watched as Shihwan’s whole face lit up with a laugh at something the pup had said.

Shihwan had a tendency to be friendly with everyone, but Insu had always believed that he had reserved that particular laugh for him.

I guess I was the idiot.

And now he understood why he hadn’t heard from Shihwan for a week. Shihwan had forgotten about him.

Insu turned away, suddenly unable to be in the same room as them. But instead of a closed door, he found himself facing a firm, sturdy chest.

“My bad,” said a deep voice. “I didn’t know anyone was here.”

Insu looked up and blinked. He hadn’t even heard the guy come in. Nor had he seen any light from the sun that should have shone through the open door.

For a moment, he simply stared at the guy, confused. But then something briefly flashed in the darkness and startled, Insu took a step back.

He stared into the stranger’s eyes for a long, silent moment. He swore that he had seen them flash.

“Are you alright?” said the man, and Insu blinked.

He looked up. A soft, cheeky half grin formed on the man’s face, and Insu couldn’t help but notice the sharp canine that peeked out from beneath his well-formed lips.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might blush,” the stranger said, leaning toward him.

Insu instinctively took a step back.

He didn’t like people. And he especially didn’t like strangers who acted so familiar with him.

Without a word, Insu moved to pass him when the man reached out and gently grabbed his arm.

Insu froze and turned his head to stare coldly at the hand that had stopped him from leaving.

“My bad,” said the man, still smiling as he lifted his hands to show Insu his empty palms. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought it would be a pity if I let you get away. Are you perhaps interested in joining the theatre club?”

“No,” Insu replied, then as an afterthought added, “thanks.”

He made another attempt to leave, but the man reached out and, using his arm, blocked his way out.

Insu stared at the arm for a long, tense moment. Then, a second later, he brought his hand down on the inside of the man’s elbow. Hard.

“Oof,” the man grunted as his arm fell to his side.

Once again, Insu began moving toward the exit, but stopped when he suddenly heard footsteps. 

Hard, fast footsteps.

Then a voice that he hadn’t expected called out to him.

“Insu!”

Insu froze, feeling the familiar sense of discomfort of having his name called out in public. But he still turned around simply because he couldn’t ignore that voice.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Shihwan was bounding up the steps toward him, three steps at a time.

His eyes were narrowed, lips taut, muscles tense. It was an expression Insu had only seen one other time — in Shihwan’s apartment on that day.

Insu subconsciously took a step back. He wasn’t sure why, but —-

“He sure looks angry,” said a deep voice from above him.

Surprised, Insu took another step back and bumped into the man’s chest. The man reached out and grabbed hold of Insu’s shoulders to steady him.

Insu quickly turned his head to look at the man, only to find his eyes quickly turning back around when he felt a presence in front of him.

Despite having been only halfway up the stairs a second ago, Shihwan was now somehow right in front of them.

“Insu,” said Shihwan, his voice surprisingly steady despite having nearly run up two flights.

“Insu,” he said again, his voice low and completely missing his usual warmth.

Instead, it was cold. Commanding.

“Come here.”

Insu gulped. A part of him wanted to run, but—

He stepped forward.

Badump. Badump.

His body wasn’t listening.

The stranger whispered something from behind him. An utterance. A warning perhaps. But Insu couldn’t hear him. 

He looked up.

And Shihwan stared back at him, his eyes narrowed, intense… untamed.

Insu’s chest felt tight, every nerve of his body pulled taut under that gaze.

A shiver ran down his spine, and heat pooled low in his stomach.

Then something glinted in the darkness.

And Insu’s feet, which had refused to listen to him a moment ago, suddenly stopped.

Then he saw it.

Shihwan’s eyes were gleaming dangerously in the darkness with a warning, his gaze directed at the man behind him.

The stranger grew quiet.

But Insu didn’t notice… for Shihwan’s eyes had turned golden.