Lift me up, just lift me up
Don't make a sound
Let me hold you up before you hit the ground

When you find out who you are
It's too late to change

I wish I could be
Every little thing you wanted, all the time
I wish I could be
Every little thing you wanted, all the time, sometimes

Don't give me up, don't give me up tonight

"Every Little Thing" - Dishwalla

Gwangnyang
May 2003

In a perfect world, he would not have to be standing here, going through this ordeal with a stilted, unsincere smile on his face, politely acknowledging those he wished would just shut up and leave him alone.

"We always knew this was going to happen..now you understand why we didn't want you to go on loan, don't you?"

He nodded, a mechanical movement of his body that was devoid of meaning.

"We didn't want to see you hurt, Nam-Il..we're so sorry this had to happen.."

A smile that he hoped would mask the fact that his fingers were balling into tight fists that were ready to strike.

"Don't worry..no such thing will happen to you here. We're always going to welcome you with open arms."

"Yes, yes..you won't have to worry about that here. You can stay with us for as long as you like. We'll gladly put in some extra clauses in your contract, if you want anything special from us.."

Stay here, Nam-Il. Stay here and play for us, make money for us, boost our ticket sales by displaying your skills in front of a bunch of screaming airhead girls who don't know the first thing about football. Stay here, Nam-Il. Don't go to Europe again..you'll only get hurt again. You never were good enough for Europe. You're only good for show and for making money. For us. Stay here and be our profit-making machine.

He wasn't about to cry in front of them. He would not allow them the pleasure of knowing how much this hurt him, how disappointed he was. He would not allow them the pleasure of positioning themselves as the good guys, as those who would console him and please him with their offers of money and facilities. He wanted them all to go to Hell.

"I appreciate the offer.." he said stiffly. "Give me some time to think about it."

They smiled understandingly-smiling with the look of pity in their eyes. They were saying to themselves, we have him now, he'll sign a new contract and stay with us. We'll have our number one crowd-puller back. And we won't let him go to Europe so easily next time-heck, nobody would probably even want him anymore.

When he was finally allowed to leave the Chunnam Dragons boardroom, it was all Nam-Il could do not to run out of the office and out of the building altogether. He was mentally distraught and disgruntled, physically ill and jet-lagged, having not had a chance to rest. Upon landing in Incheon, he was endlessly hounded by the press, and though dispatches from the club had rescued him from the neverending barrage of questions fielded by the reporters, it was only a brief respite.

Outside the clubhouse, they were waiting. Ready with cameras and notepads, ready to capture the image of Kim Nam-Il, a fallen hero, his European dreams shattered, ready to spread the news and the picture of a weary, sullen figure emerging from the doors, ready to ask him questions like, why did they send you back, did you not try hard enough?

Fuck you, not hard enough.

He felt like a prisoner here, in his own homeland, a prisoner of public opinions and camera flashes, and everything that had happened to him since he'd arrived only hastened his desire to leave. He hadn't even seen his parents or talked to them, and he wasn't sure he wanted them to see him in his current state.

He rushed to the bathroom, knowing that the nausea that had been festering inside him for hours could not be contained much longer. Stumbling towards one of the stalls, he yanked open the door and fell down to his knees, just barely able to flip the toilet seat up before the first hurl came surging up his stomach and out of his mouth.

He vomited violently for several minutes, perhaps a few days' worth of dodgy airplane food and other things being regurgitated as his head spun, his body telling him that enough was enough. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to get away from all this, get away, run and hide, disappear from view. He had to.

"Oh, my God..Nam-Il! Are you all right?"

He almost didn't hear that voice. It rang hollow in his head, vaguely familiar, and as he turned around to see who was standing there his vision blurred and his consciousness faded. He fought against it, struggling to focus his eyes, and when they did they came upon a vision that was the first pleasant sight he'd seen ever since his plane touched down the runway at Incheon..

"Tae..Tae-Young?"

"Well, will you look at this?"

"What does it say?"

"Kim Nam-Il: Returning Home after European Career Goes Bust."

"Nice title.."

"Well, here's another one.. 'Will He Get Another Chance'? Catchy, huh?"

"I'm sick of it. The guy's face been all over the news and the tablois for..what? Three days? Haven't they got tired of him already?"

"Well, if this is any indication, he'll be old news soon enough.."

"Don't count on it. The public loves stories like these..falls from grace and shit."

"Yeah, and the poor guy's probably somewhere licking his wounds, or getting severely drunk, or drowning his miseries with some hooker in Itaewon.."

"Or all of that at once."

With a loud, growling noise, Choi Tae-Uk rose off the bench in the Anyang Cheetahs' locker room and strode across the room to where Jung Jo-Guk and Kim Chi-Gon were standing, reading from one of the day's edition sports tabloids that had Kim Nam-Il's face pasted in front. He seized the tabloid from the two youngsters' hands and tore it to pieces, his eyes fiery.

"Tae-Uk! What are you doing?"

Uke did not reply. He took one of the torn pages and rumpled it into ball inside his fist, holding it up against his two bewildered teammates' faces.

"I will forgive you this once..because you two are young and do not know better." His voice trembled with anger. "But next time, you won't be so lucky."

Jo-Guk and Chi-Gon looked at each other, both scared and confused.

"You two should know..that bullshit like this gets written every day and there's nothing we can do about it..one day they will write about you, and what will you do then?" Uke stared at them defiantly. "Go crying to your mothers?"

"Tae-Uk-hyung, we didn't mean-"

"I don't give a fuck what you mean or didn't mean." Uke cut them off sharply.

Jo-Guk, much taller than Uke yet three years younger nonetheless, seemed very frightened by his senior's anger. "We're sorry, hyung. We really are."

"Good. Because if I ever hear you talk that way about Kim Nam-Il again.." he held the paper clump inside his fist up to their faces. "..I will shove this so far up your asses that it's gonna come popping out of your mouths. Is that understood?"

Both of them nodded, looking very fearful indeed.

"Good. Now get the fuck out of my face."

The two rookies then scooted out of the locker room, leaving Uke standing alone amidst a heap of torn paper and his own rage. Only a small measure of self-control remained, preventing him from destroying everything that was in sight. And the desire to do so was so great, so great that he surprised even himself by managing to hold back.

Nobody, nobody could talk like that about Nam-Il, his Nam-Il, and get away with it.

Kim Tae-Young observed the situation from the second floor window of the small medical clinic in the Chunnam Dragons' clubhouse building. The crowd of reporters were still gathering near the front doors, perhaps hoping that Nam-Il would at least grace them with an impromptu press conference or some words as he made his way back to the car.

Tae-Young looked back to where Nam-Il sat on one of the beds, looking pale and decidedly very unhealthy. He'd dragged Nam-Il up here upon discovering him vomiting buckets into the toilet downstairs, definitely not the way he'd expected to encounter his friend for the first time since he'd set foot back in Korea. Tae-Young knew that Nam-Il would be in the building that day, and evidently, so did the press hounds outside.

The doctor on duty was young and seemingly fresh out of med school, but he asked no questions as he examined Nam-Il and did whatever it was that doctors do.

"He's okay..just a combination of jetlag, fatigue..and possible psychological stress."

"Possible psychological stress?" Tae-Young looked at him, fuming. "Do you have any idea what he's been through?"

The young doctor seemed a bit taken aback by the senior player's anger, but he kept his calm.

"As a matter of fact, I do..I've been keeping up with the news."

"Yeah, well I hope you haven't been reading the shit they wrote." Tae-Young jerked a thumb towards the window. "Lord knows all they want is to sell more papers."

"I don't buy that crap, okay?" the doctor said defensively. "I know how Nam-Il plays. I've seen you guys train, and I know there's no way they sent him back here because he didn't try hard enough. As his close friend, I'm sure you'll agree."

Tae-Young glanced at Nam-Il, who had been watching them silently throughout the conversation. The older man stepped close to him and took one of his pale, trembling hands, squeezing it tightly.

"Nam-Il..listen to me." he said lowly. "I need you to be strong for me, okay? Just until we get out of this place."

Nam-Il opened his mouth, his voice proving difficult to find.

"Keep them away from me, Tae-Young.." he said weakly. "I don't want anything to do with them."

Tae-Young nodded and placed his other hand on Nam-Il's shoulder. "I won't let them get anywhere near you, I promise."

"Promise?"

Tae-Young regarded Nam-Il's wide, bloodshot eyes and nodded slowly. So this is what it felt like to be the one whom the younger man counted on in his times of trouble. So this is what Hong Myung-Bo must have experienced once, when Nam-Il had come to him seeking his help. So this is what it felt like to be in the position Tae-Young once thought he would never have any hope of filling.

"We can leave your car here-you can pick it up anytime. I have my car parked in the back, so we can get out without them knowing." he gestured at the window. "You're staying with me tonight-that's not negotiable."

"I wouldn't recommend that.." the doctor said. "I think we need to get him to a hospital, or at least tell management-"

"No!" Both Tae-Young and Nam-Il said in unison, causing the doctor to stop mid-sentence. Tae-Young shook his head and raised one finger at the young doctor threateningly.

"You do not speak one word to management about this-not one word."

"But-"

"Doctor, I am sure that you are a very, very smart man. Smart enough, I hope, to realize that if management finds out, they're gonna find out too." he pointed at the window. "And that is not good no matter how you choose to look at it."

The doctor's face showed conflicting emotions, but as he reached up to correct his glasses Tae-Young could sense a part of him giving in.

"Well, then perhaps your right."

"Listen, I don't question your medical knowledge, or that you know better when it comes to his health. But this.." Tae-Young gestured at Nam-Il. "..isn't just about his health. I want him to get out of this mess with his dignity intact, and management isn't going to help with that."

The doctor shoved his hands into the pockets of his long white robe and nodded. "Okay..all right, then. You can take him home-and I won't tell management."

"Thank you." Nam-Il managed to say.

"But you gotta watch over him real carefully-make sure he gets plenty of rest, get some food in him, drink lots of water-well, I'm sure you know the drill."

Tae-Young nodded. "I'll take good care of him."

"Can we..can we go now?" Nam-Il asked. "I want to get out of this damn place. Like, now."

The doctor gestured towards the door. "You may leave-and be careful."

"Thank you, doctor." Tae-Young said as he helped Nam-Il down from the bed and led him towards the door, one arm thrown protectively around him. Nam-Il was holding up well, the strength evidently back in his legs, after a brief period in which he was barely able to stand. Having known him for so long, Tae-Young knew that most of the illness was in his head, not his body. And he knew that at times like these, Nam-Il would need a friend. Nam-Il would need him.

"Wait..wait just a second." the doctor's voice called after them.

Turning around, Tae-Young saw that he was rummaging through the medicine cabinet, producing a small packet of familiar-looking white tablets, which he then handed to Tae-Young, who accepted it with a rather bewildered expression.

"Sleep medication." the doctor explained.

"What?"

"Look, regardless of whether or not he signs a contract to stay here, management is going to want him on the pitch in the next few days." He said. "I figure that the least we can do is make sure he gets enough rest so he'll be as fit as he can manage when the time comes."

Tae-Young stared at the packet in his hand, while Nam-Il just looked at the doctor with a befuddled look on his face.

"Yes, I can get fired for giving this without prescription-or without notifying management." The doctor said, evidently reading their minds. "So use that only, and I mean only, if he has difficulty sleeping."

Tae-Young nodded and quickly pocketed the tablets, giving the doctor a little smile. "Thank you..nice to know there's still a person with a heart in this building."

"Be careful, you two."

With that, the door to the medical center slid shut and Tae-Young turned towards Nam-Il, the smile on his face widening.

"Score one for human conscience."

Nam-Il's return smile was weak but genuine. "Get me out of here..now."

Tae-Young took his hand and led him towards the stairs that would lead them down and onto the back entrance. He'd use any means necessary to make sure that Nam-Il could get out of the complex without the media following him around tirelessly, eager to hunt him down.

The ride back to Tae-Young's apartment was swift and uneventful-though both frequently checked the rear view mirrors to see if anybody was tailing them, any sign of a news van or a press car lurking in street corners. None were to be found, and as Tae-Young parked his car in the basement lot of his apartment building he chose the closest spot he could find to the elevators, anything that would hasten the process of getting Nam-Il back into a safe environment where he couldn't be bothered.

Nam-Il had been silent the entire ride, using his time to text-message his agents on his cell phone, telling them that he didn't want anything scheduled for the next few days, that he wanted to lay low and not be seen for a while. Tae-Young wasn't sure if those agents would necessarily agree, but Nam-Il was not requesting time off, he was demanding it.

It was early summer and the air was hot and thick, and Tae-Young turned the air conditioning in his apartment up one notch as he allowed Nam-Il inside, locking the door behind him.

"Go and sit down..I'll get you some tea."

Nam-Il sat down on the couch in the living room area-he was familiar with this place, having been here many times before, and as Tae-Young returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug of herbal tea he could see that the younger man was slowly regaining his sense of time and place.

"Drink..it'll make you feel better."

Nam-Il drank quietly, Tae-Young sitting beside him and rubbing up and down his back. His body heat felt slightly above the normal levels, and his skin looked pale, but what alarmed Tae-Young the most was the listless, dispirited look in Nam-Il's eyes. He had the gaunt features of a broken man, that same broken man the media had so wanted to glimpse and exploit for all the country to see but he would not give them the pleasure of seeing.

Here, with Tae-Young, Nam-Il knew that he did not need to pretend.

"It's okay..you're safe here. They won't bother you." Tae-Young said assuringly. "You're safe with me.."

With every passing moment, the mask of blandness on the younger man's face faded. Tae-Young could almost see the emotions that were rising up to his skin, the sadness, the anger, the disappointment, the guilt. He set the mug back on the table with trembling hands and then turned to look his best friend in the eyes.

"I'm sorry.."

Tae-Young shook his head. "Don't apologize to me."

"I couldn't do it, Tae-Young..I failed." Nam-Il said. "I failed."

The last thing he needed, Tae-Young knew, was another person who was just going to pat him on the head and placate him with sweet words, telling him that it was all right, that things will work out, that he'll get another chance and nail it the second time around. Tae-Young knew enough, and had experienced enough, to know that such things were empty lies.

Nam-Il didn't need his words. Nam-Il only needed him.

He flung an arm around Nam-Il's shoulders and pulled him closer, letting the head of dark hair lean against his shoulder. One of Nam-Il's hand reached up and around his neck, holding him tight.

"You can cry now.." Tae-Young said. "You can cry all you want. Let it out. Don't hold back."

At first the tears came slowly, the sobbing quiet and muffled against his chest. But the he tightened his grip around Nam-Il's body and just like that, the floodgates opened. He held his younger friend as tightly and as comfortingly as possible, saying nothing, knowing that his words were not needed. Tae-Young didn't know how long this would take and he didn't care. He would stay here and hold him even if Nam-Il decided to cry until autumn leaves started to fall.

"I couldn't cry in front of Chong-Gug.." Nam-Il said against his chest, his voice thick with sobs. "I couldn't..I had to be strong for him, he was counting on me so much.."

Tae-Young nuzzled his nose against the younger man's ear, kissing his lobes lightly.

"I couldn't cry when they gave me the news, I swore to myself I wouldn't-and when I got here, the last thing I wanted to do was cry where they could see me, where they could pounce on me and use it-use it for their own purposes."

"So you haven't cried..at all?"

Nam-Il shook his head, rivulets of tears that were starting to run down the length of Tae-Young's chest.

"Then take your time." Tae-Young whispered against his ear. "Just let it all out."

Nam-Il seemed intent on doing just that, and as Tae-Young sat there and held him, rocking him back and forth gently, he could not help but wonder if this was the very same thing Hong had done for the boy, many months ago, at a time where he was distraught beyond reason, similarly sick and sore, the significant difference being that at that time, Tae-Young had been the cause of his problems.

The yellow summer sun was descending from its apex in the sky, and as the shadows grew long Nam-Il's tears slowly faded, though in its wake it left a pair of eyes that were red and swollen, a body that was slack with exhaustion and riddled with illness.

"I think..we need to get you into bed." Tae-Young said finally, after a silence that seemed to drag on forever.

Nam-Il wordlessly nodded, and he allowed Tae-Young to stand up and pull him up with him, leading him towards the bedroom. Inside it was cool and airy, the curtains drawn to block out the harsh sunlight, and Tae-Young helped Nam-Il out of his sweat and tear-stained clothes, replacing it with a t-shirt and a pair of shorts from Tae-Young's closet. They were roughly the same size and Nam-Il could wear the older man's clothes easily, but before that Tae-Young helped him clean up a bit.

He wasn't sure if a shower would be a good idea, so he rubbed Nam-Il down with a soft washcloth dipped in warm water, just to get the sweat and grime off his body, before helping him into the loaned clothes and into the bed.

"I don't need to give you those tablets just yet, do I?" he asked with a smile as he pulled the covers up Nam-Il's body.

"No..not yet." Nam-Il said. "I'm so tired I think I can sleep for two days straight."

"Well, if that's what you want to do, then do it." Tae-Young said. "Don't you want to eat something first? You threw up quite a lot.."

"I'll eat later..right now I just want to sleep." Nam-Il said. "Tae-Young.."

"Yes?"

"Stay here.." Nam-Il said, his hand clutching gently at Tae-Young's arm. "Stay with me."

"Do you really want me to?"

"I really *need* you to." Nam-Il said firmly. "Stay here and sleep beside me."

So trusting, so expectant. Those eyes that had once looked on his with such fear that his blood ran cold just remembering it. Now there they were again, looking at him, and the hand that was upon his arm told Tae-Young that Nam-Il would not take 'no' for an answer. Even in sickness, in a weakened state, he still knew how to get exactly what he wanted. And for the moment, all Tae-Young wanted to do was to give him what he wanted, whatever he wanted.

"Okay..I'll sleep here with you." he said finally. "But first..I need to go fetch some cold packs for your eyes, okay? I'll be just a second."

Nam-Il nodded and let him go, albeit reluctantly. Tae-Young went back to the kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving the small cold packs he normally used to soothe straining muscles or bruises. He wrapped two of them inside cloth napkins to soften the coldness, then brought them back towards the bedroom.

He hesitated in front of the door, something inside him unsure of whether he should step inside.

He knew that Nam-Il would be waiting for him, that he needed him. But something told Tae-Young that he alone would not be enough. There was someone else that Nam-Il needed, that would help him a great deal more than Tae-Young ever would. Setting the cold packs on the living room table, Tae-Young went over to his telephone and picked it up, his fingers thumbing in the now-familiar numbers.

Nam-Il was asleep almost immediately, but Tae-Young lingered for several minutes on, holding the cold packs against the younger man's eyes to reduce the swelling. The flesh underneath his eyes were puffy, and Tae-Young carefully dabbed them with the packs, careful not to wake him up.

If boys don't cry, he thought to himself, men definitely should.

To him, one who unashamedly sheds his tears is one who knows that he is no less of a man because of it. Nam-Il showed his tears only to a select few-that long-held myth of tears being the sign of man's weakness still prevalent in modern society, but Tae-Young believed that not even the cynics could blame him for shedding them now.

The boy would survive, Tae-Young was sure of this. He'd been through much worse, and he'd grown stronger with each trial that came his way. He would survive. Whether or not that would mean another European chance or not, Tae-Young didn't dare speculate. It wasn't his job. His job was to be here for Nam-Il, to help him through this as best he could.

He lost track of time, lying there in bed with Nam-Il in his arms, sleep giving the boy temporary respite from all his troubles, nuzzled deep against his friend's chest, strands of black-brown hair that had grown long in his months in Europe brushing against Tae-Young's chin. It wasn't long before sleep claimed him, too, and the last thing he remembered before drifting off was the thought of Young-Pyo, how much he missed him, wondering what Young-Pyo would say if he were here.

It was Young-Pyo who filled his dreams, the face he'd had to be content to see only in the television screen or the newspapers-how happy he looked, among teammates who seemed to admire his hardwork and dedication, even more than Ji-Sung, and how coach Hiddink seemed so proud of him. Young-Pyo was always smiling, always so happy, always seemed to be right where he belonged.

Last he saw Young-Pyo in person, it had been a different story altogether. Sadness coloured those beautiful eyes, and uncertainty painted deep lines across his face. They were together for nearly three whole days, and there were times where he seemed to be happy enough, but those moments were brief compared to all those hours where a dark cloud seemed to hang permanently over his normally cheerful disposition.

And Tae-Young remembered most of all, that unpleasant feeling that there was little he could do to help.

"Tae-Young.." a voice called to him, interrupting his dreams. It wasn't Young-Pyo's. "Tae-Young..wake up."

He opened his eyes, and everything was much darker than they were when he first fell asleep. Nam-Il was now lying over him, his weight on the older man's body, his face looking down upon him.

"What's the matter?" Tae-Young asked drowsily. "Do you need anything?"

Nam-Il shook his head. "I thought you were having a bad dream or something-your breathing was uneven, and you kept moving about.."

Tae-Young sighed deeply and glanced outside his window, where no traces of sunlight could be seen coming through the curtains. "What time is it?"

"About six-thirty." Nam-Il said.

"You've only had a few hours of sleep.." Tae-Young said. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Nam-Il shook his head. "You didn't.."

"Are you hungry now? Want me to go get you some food?"

"No, no.." Nam-Il said, sprawling himself wide over Tae-Young's body. "I just want you to stay here."

Instinctively, Tae-Young reached up and embraced Nam-Il across his strong back, feeling the weight of his friend's body on his. His fingers traced up and down the younger man's spine, the head of dark hair now pillowed against his shoulder.

"You lost some weight.." he commented.

"I had a very tight training and eating schedule." Nam-Il said. "I think it actually improved my fitness.."

"That's a good thing, then." Tae-Young said, while one hand tried to resist the tempation of going further down and fondling the younger man's backside.

"Tae-Young.."

"Hmm?"

Nam-Il propped himself up on his elbows and regarded Tae-Young with a serious look. "There is one thing..that I'd like you to do for me."

Tae-Young shrugged. "Name it."

Rather hesitantly, Nam-Il lowered himself until his mouth was at Tae-Young's left ear, where he gently kissed it and spoke in a low, hushed voice.

"I could really use a good fuck right now.."

Tae-Young stiffened, which Nam-Il must have detected because he pulled himself up to gaze straight into the older man's eyes.

"You..you've gotta be kidding me.." Tae-Young said.

"No.." Nam-Il shook his head. "I mean it. I'd really, really like you to fuck me..now."

With that, he began grinding his lower body down on Tae-Young, causing the older man's breath to catch in his throat. His hands wandered down to Nam-Il's subtly curved backside, fondling the two globes lightly even without his mind comprehending his actions.

"Nam-Il..you're not healthy yet. Shouldn't we wait until-"

"No, no.." Nam-Il said insistently. "No waiting."

"Nam-Il.."

"Besides, I'm sure I'll actually feel a lot better after it.." Nam-Il flicked his tongue against the stubble on Tae-Young's chin. "Much better.."

Oh, darn it. Tae-Young bellowed a deep sigh and reached up with one hand to stroke down the younger man's cheek, smiling at him.

"You always do get what you want, don't you?" he asked.

Nam-Il's answer was a devilish smirk, and a hand that was slowly unbuttoning Tae-Young's shirt, pushing the fabric away from his chest.

"One way or the other.." he whispered. "Now, are you going to help me or do I have to do all the work?"

Snarling playfully, Tae-Young tugged the waistband of the shorts Nam-Il wore, revealing his finely-curved ass. Taking the cue, the younger man grabbed Tae-Young by his face and instantly had their lips entwined, an eager tongue sneaking into his mouth.

So much for taking it slow.

Nam-Il was familiar territory to him now, every curve of his body thoroughly etched in the back of Tae-Young's mind. Somewhere along the way, a point in time in the months since their reconciliation became final, he'd stopped asking questions, and since then they were never needed anymore. He knew what the boy liked, what he didn't, how he wanted to be touched, to be held.

Holding Nam-Il like this made him realize that he, too, had missed this sort of intimacy. The glide of sweaty, naked flesh against his own, the heartbeat of another so close to him, pounding against his ear, the taste and scent of arousal that he'd had to do without.

As much as Tae-Young wanted to take things slow and easy, Nam-Il wouldn't let him, and he could understand why. So much of his past few days had all been about restraint, suppressing his true emotions behind a mask he hoped would preserve his dignity. He had not seen his parents, his friends, nor his lover, and all he saw were faces that were friendly in a way that was most unwelcome. Pity from the management, relentless questions from the press, the like.

He didn't want to be held back anymore. He wanted to let everything out, here in the presence of someone who understood him, with whom he didn't need to keep any secrets. And Tae-Young would give him that. And whatever else he required.

"It's too tight, hyung.."

"No, it's not."

"I can hardly breathe.."

"It's just fine, Chong-Gug." Song Chong-Hwan assured his brother as he finished knotting the silvery gray tie around Chong-Gug's neck, then tucked the end neatly into the matching vest.

The two brothers stood in front of a mirror in Chong-Gug's apartment, with a heap of tailor-made clothing strewn around them. The items had to be sent via mail to Rotterdam to be fitted, because there was scarcely any time between Chong-Gug's arrival in South Korea for the summer break and the date of his wedding.

They were trying on the outfit that Chong-Gug would wear for the reception-the one for the wedding ceremony was a simple black tuxedo that was pretty much basic, but this one was designed with a special flair. Everything was silvery gray, starting with a basic shirt underneath, made from a shimmery fabric that reflected light beautifully, complemented with an old-fashioned tie and vest in a darker hue.

Chong-Hwan wondered who had been more excited to see the clothes-him or his brother. Chong-Gug had been a bundle of nerves-as any man would be before his wedding-but Chong-Hwan had simply delighted in seeing how well everything was coming together for his little brother's special day.

He picked up the finishing piece for the outfit, the long coat tailored in old-style elegance, made with a luxurious shimmery gray material, and held it towards his brother.

"Let's see if this fits as well as the other pieces.." he said.

Chong-Gug put on the suit, and Chong-Hwan smiled as he saw how the lines of the outfit fell perfectly on his little brother's body, every stitch and angle so custom-fit for him and him alone. Chong-Gug buttoned up the suit, leaving only part of the vest visible, adjusted his shoulder pads, and swished the suit's long tail back. Gazing at himself several long moments, in the mirror, he then turned towards his brother with an expectant look on his face.

"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"

Smiling, Chong-Hwan took his brother's hands in his and turned him towards the mirror again. "I think it's beautiful.."

Chong-Gug craned his head from side to side, gazing at every part of the outfit in the mirror. It was a perfect fit, as far as Chong-Hwan was concerned, and it made his little brother look like the most handsome man on earth.

"Can you move your arms freely? Is there any discomfort?" Chong-Hwan asked. "Try moving your arms up and down and around, see if the fabric pulls in any way.."

"Hyung, it's not like I'm actually going to do gymnastics in this outfit!" Chong-Gug frowned at his brother, which made Chong-Hwan laugh.

"Of course not..but you still have to dance."

"D-dance?" Chong-Gug sputtered.

"Yes, dance!" Chong-Hwan stared at him. "As in, the dance of the newlyweds? Taking center stage while the orchestra plays a romantic tune?"

Chong-Gug's eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. "An orchestra? You hired an orchestra? There's going to be an orchestra?!"

"Of course there is! Eighteen piece, complete with the harp and percussions and whatnot.." Chong-Hwan said matter-of-factly. "And you're going to take Jung-Ah's hand, and bow to her deeply, and you're going to both step on the dance floor and dance."

Chong-Gug's eyes darted back and forth from the mirror to his older brother, looking very unsure. "Nobody told me I'd have to..dance.."

"You don't remember my wedding?" Chong-Hwan asked. "I danced."

"Yeah, but.."

"No buts. You're going to dance. Like-this!"

He twirled Chong-Gug around on one hand, his little brother giving a loud yelp as he fought to find his footing, spun around with his fancy clothes waving through the air. Chong-Hwan caught him before he fell, and the two brothers soon got into a fit of laughter, standing before the mirror and giggling madly.

"Hyung.." Chong-Gug said finally.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared."

"Don't worry about that.." Chong-Hwan said. "There's plenty enough time for me to teach you how to dance.."

"No, not that." Chong-Gug shook his head. "Like, 'scared' scared."

"Oh, that.." Chong-Hwan said, then he looked at his brother's eyes through their reflection in the mirror, his hands readjusting the suit over his shoulders again. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Chong-Gug. Don't worry."

"Hyung.."

"It will all be okay, trust me." Chong-Hwan said as his arms moved to embrace his little brother across his waist, careful not to ruin his expensive wedding suit. "And besides..I'm going to be right there beside you, every step of the way."

"Promise?"

Chong-Hwan nodded, kissing his brother on the side of his head. "I promise."

Chong-Gug closed his eyes briefly, and opened them again with a smile towards his older brother. "What would I do without you, hyung?"

"You'd do just fine.." Chong-Hwan assured his brother with a pat on his shoulder. "Now, let's try that other outfit on, shall we?"

"Tae-Young.."

"Yes?"

"Now, I'm hungry."

Smiling as he kissed the sweaty forehead that rested against his chest, Tae-Young closed his eyes and savored the bone-deep ache that told him he'd just experienced a very delightful and satisfying fuck. Nam-Il's body, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids, lay curled in a ball against him, one of his hands on Tae-Young's chest and toying lightly with the older man's right nipple, his breathing still ragged.

"I guessed you would be.." he said, enjoying the feel of their sweating, steaming bodies pressed together underneath the covers. "What do you want to eat?"

"What do you have?"

"Well, I don't have much in the kitchen right now, but if you want something special..I can go out and buy it for you."

Nam-Il lifted his head off Tae-Young's chest just enough to be able to look at him with his droopy eyes. "Really?"

"Sure, no problem." Tae-Young said. "That is, if you don't mind staying here and waiting for me."

"Well, then I guess I'd really like some kimchi pot stew." Nam-Il said.

"Ahh..I remember that. Your favourite." Tae-Young said. "And I think I know this little shop downtown that sells them for takeaway."

"Do you think they sell songpyon, too?"

Tae-Young frowned slightly. "I'm not sure. But I'll try to find some. Can't promise they'll be fresh, though, they usually make those things in the morning.."

"That's all right.."

"I'm gonna go and get myself some water first. You want?" Tae-Young offered as he gently disentangled himself from Nam-Il, almost regretting it.

"Yeah, a nice cold one would be nice.."

Tae-Young slid off the bed, his smile widening as he noticed the messy heap of clothes strewn around the floor. It took him quite a while to retrieve his underpants and trousers, but he managed to find them amids the untidy pile and put them back on, whilst putting his shirt on without buttoning it up.

He'd barely made his way across the living room and towards the kitchen when there was a knock at the door of his apartment, stopping him in his tracks. Tae-Young walked towards the door, his heart beating slightly faster. There was only one face he wanted to see at the other end of the peephole, and he hoped this was it.

It was.

Unlocking the door and opening it, Tae-Young came face-to-face with Choi Tae-Uk, who stood in his doorway accompanied by a traveling bag, two plastic grocery bags, and what looked like takeout boxes stuffed into a brown carton.

"You..you plan on moving in?" Tae-Young said, for lack of anything better to say.

Uke's reply was to fling himself at the taller man, hugging him tight and nearly knocking Tae-Young off his feet. Tae-Young had barely gotten his senses back together when Uke's hands found his face, grabbed it none-too-gently, and pulled it down to meet the little striker's waiting lips, where he was given a wet, messy kiss.

"I owe you." Uke said when he finally let go. "I don't know what would've happened to him if you hadn't found him first.."

Tae-Young, still rather shocked, could only gaze upon him in bewilderment.

"Where is he?"

"In..in the bedroom." Tae-Young said.

Uke threw one glance at the bedroom door, turned his sights back on Tae-Young, and looked him up and down.

"Did you fuck him?"

Tae-Young nearly chortled in response to that blatant question, but Uke just stood there unblinkingly staring at him, expecting his reply.

"What makes you think-"

"Oh, come on. It's a fair enough question. Did you fuck him?" Uke repeated.

Tae-Young sighed and nodded. "I did."

"Good. He'd have needed that." Uke said as he brushed past Tae-Young and stepped into the apartment. "Think you can give me a hand with all this?"

"What is all this stuff anyway?" Tae-Young said as he lifted the bags into the room and closed the door.

"I went to his apartment and grabbed some of his clothes, put them in there." Uke pointed towards the traveling bag. "I figured he might as well stay here until we go to Paju before taking off for Japan."

"One whole week." Tae-Young said.

"Yes." Uke said. "There were some photographers waiting outside his apartment building, so I think it'd be best for him to stay here for a while."

"No problem with me.." Tae-Young said. "And what are those?"

"Dinner." Uke said as he placed the takeout boxes on the dining room table. "His. And ours."

"Let me guess.." Tae-Young said. "Kimchi pot stew."

Uke smiled. "Correct."

"And.." Tae-Young eyed another box, that was billowing smoke from it and emanating a familiar, sweet smell. "..songpyon?"

"Right again." Uke said.

Tae-Young shook his head. "Sometimes, you scare me out of my wits. I swear you do."

Uke just gave him a smirk. "Now, I think I'm gonna go in there and give my boyfriend a proper seeing-to."

"Yeah, you do that." Tae-Young chuckled. "I'll just prepare dinner-oh, and bring a glass of water for him."

Uke walked towards the bedroom door with a water glass in hand, Tae-Young listening closely just in case he heard the noise of the glass shattering against the floor-heck, anything could happen when those two are together. Thankfully, no such noise was to be heard, instead all he heard was something that resembled a shout, and moments later, muffled thumping and noises that told him an ungodly ruckus was ensuing on his bed.

Smiling to himself, Tae-Young laid out the dinner Uke had brought on the dining table-he wasn't sure how long they were going to be in there, but Nam-Il was hungry, and usually that took priority over everything else. Sex with his long-separated boyfriend included.

He took his time arranging the food over the dishes on the table, and proceeded to store all the other stuff Uke had brought with him. The grocery bags contained things Nam-Il could use while he stayed here-Uke was right, letting him go home to his own apartment right now would not be a good idea, and not just because of the ever-present media hounds camped outside his building.

Uke had evidently thought about everything. He bought some of Nam-Il's favourite food, the special brand of milk he liked to drink, even the shampoo and soap he liked to use. The little striker had even been thoughtful enough to include a shaving razor-all in all, enough to sustain Nam-Il for a whole week here, the trip to Japan and back.

After the noise coming from his bedroom quieted down considerably, Tae-Young walked towards the door and took a tentative peek inside. Uke, amazingly enough, was still wearing all his clothes, though his face was flushed and some of his buttons had come undone. He was cradling Nam-Il on his lap, or at least that was the general idea, considering the fact that Nam-Il was much taller than he was, and Nam-Il was purring like a happy kitten inside his lover's embrace.

"Hey, you two.." Tae-Young called from the door. "Dinner's ready."

Nam-Il yawned and pulled himself up to a sitting position, a hand brushing through his messy hair. "Somebody help me back in my clothes.."

"They're not your clothes." Uke corrected him.

"Whatever." Nam-Il said. "Oh, and I need to take a piss first.."

"Go ahead.." Tae-Young gestured at the door to the bathroom.

While Nam-Il was in the bathroom, Tae-Young and Uke went back out towards the dining area, where they both sat down and waited for the other the come out.

"Well?" Tae-Young asked.

"He'll be fine.." Uke said with a calm smile. "When you first called, I was really scared..you know, that something really bad was up."

"Well, it *was* rather scary." Tae-Young said. "You know what he's like-when he's mentally down, his physical condition nosedives also."

"I know.." Uke nodded. "Well, it's a good thing you found him-and brought him here. Any other place would just make it worse.."

"I only did what came to mind, honestly." Tae-Young said. "I just didn't think I should leave him alone-even if he does want it."

"He doesn't want to be left alone.." Uke said. "Not by you, at least. Or me. Everybody else can just fuck off."

Tae-Young chuckled lightly. "How long are you staying here?"

"I can stay until tomorrow, at least." Uke said, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. "A K-League match on the 25th, I'm sure you know..two days later we group at Paju, and on the 29th we take off for Tokyo. You, me, and him included."

Tae-Young nodded slowly. May 31st was the date of their match against Japan at the Tokyo National Stadium, a return match after the one that took place in Seoul in April, where South Korea were beaten 0-1 at the last minute by a fluke goal.

"We'll get them this time.." Uke muttered under his breath. "I'm sure we will."

Tae-Young folded his arms on the table. "You think he's up for it? Nam-Il, I mean."

"He'll be okay.." Uke said. "Like you said, it's mostly in his head."

"Hmmm.."

"After all, an international match is a perfect way for him to get his act together again. I mean, without any club responsibilities, this being an away match and all.."

"Yeah, I guess so." Tae-Young nodded. "Listen, Uke.."

"Yes?"

"If you..uh, I know you'll want to spend some time with him, you know, after this. And if that's the case.." Tae-Young shrugged. "I can sleep on the couch."

Uke looked at him as if he'd just sprouted horns. "Tae-Young, don't be ridiculous.."

"But-"

"No way!" Uke said. "You are sleeping on that bed, with us. That's confirmed."

"I just thought..that you two might want to spend time together..just the two of you, I mean."

Uke shook his head. "This is your apartment, and that's your bed. No fucking way you're sleeping on the couch."

Tae-Young opened his hands. "Well, if that *is* what you want.."

"Oh, it is. And besides.." Uke placed one hand on Tae-Young's arm. "..I've had quite a bad day and I can really use a good fuck."

Tae-Young stared at him. "Second time today I've heard someone say that.."

"Well, I guess that means both he and I know who to go to when we're in need of a good fuck." Uke said flatly.

"Yeah, I guess you do." Tae-Young said.

Nam-Il came out of the bathroom not long after that and the three sat down to enjoy their meal. There was little talk while dinner was consumed, because Nam-Il was very single-minded when food was concerned, and the other two were content to let him eat in peace. Judging by the way the tall midfielder scarfed down all the food that was served for him, he was indeed very hungry. No surprise, Tae-Young thought, considering how much he'd vomited earlier that day.

He was visibly better-a rosy tint returning to his skin, his eyes once again alive, and a smile more readily seen on his lips. No doubt that in the coming weeks or even months, he would reflect on Europe and his missed chance for many times, but for the time being at least, he was with the people who loved him and would help take his mind off those troubles.

After dinner was done and the dishes were cleared, Nam-Il and Uke started to make their way back towards the bedroom, Tae-Young following hesitantly behind. At the door, he paused for a while and contemplated whether he should go in with them.

"Now, one more time.." he asked them. "Are you sure you want me in there? The couch isn't really all that bad, you know.."

Nam-Il and Uke looked at him, then looked at each other, looked back at him, and simultaneously they reached over and grabbed him by his wrists, unceremoniously yanking him inside the bedroom.

Nam-Il's head fell back on the pillows, his sweaty chest heaving with each breath that came out of his mouth, a satisfied smile worn on his face. Glancing sideways, he could see Uke still perched on top of Tae-Young, who was holding the little striker by his waist as the older man's cock pumped into his ass. Uke's eyelids were fluttering, his elbows braced on either side of Tae-Young's head as he was fucked, Tae-Young's lips darting over his nipples, one after the other.

Nam-Il crawled over to them and steadied Uke's face with one hand, the other reaching between the two wet, joined bodies to find the little striker's leaking erection, starting to stroke it. Uke gave a loud moan, which Nam-Il promptly swallowed into his own mouth, following the bouncing movements of his body as Tae-Young fucked him. Nam-Il had already tasted Uke's delightful tightness once that night, and was happy to let Tae-Young have his own share.

Beneath Uke, Tae-Young was breathing hard, his hands gripping the little striker's waist tightly as he continued to fuck him, pumping into the hot sheath of his ass.

"Sure is tight, isn't he?" Tae-Young managed to say.

Nam-Il let go of Uke's mouth just long enough to stare into his lover's droopy, half-lidded eyes.

"He sure is.." he said as his hand held Uke by his chin. "Haven't had one up your ass for a long time, have you Uke?"

The little striker shook his head. Nam-Il's hand moved faster on his cock, bringing him closer and closer for climax.

"Come for us, Uke.." Nam-Il whispered in his ear. "Let me feel it.."

Uke made a small noise at the back of his throat and the cock in Nam-Il's hand began splattering, wetting his hand and Tae-Young's stomach with his release. Nam-Il continued to pump him, wanting to get every drop out, wanting to feel the sticky mess on his hand. Uke's eyes were shut tight and his mouth hung open, which Nam-Il took as invitation to kiss him again, letting their tongues mingle together.

Tae-Young, who had not stopped thrusting up into Uke the entire time, was nearing his climax also. His movements became quicker, the wet noises coming from where his cock was buried inside Uke's ass becoming louder, until the older man finally stopped moving and signaled Uke to move off him.

"Get off, Uke..let me pull out." he said.

Nam-Il wouldn't have blamed Uke if the little striker preferred to have Tae-Young come inside him-surely Nam-Il woudn't mind, but perhaps Uke was remembering that this little 'deal' of theirs concerned Young-Pyo also, so he allowed Tae-Young to slip out of him, lifting his sore ass off the still-hard cock, whose release was imminent.

Uke and Nam-Il both moved in on the throbbing hardness like hungry animals, alternating between their hands and mouths to bring Tae-Young to his climax. The older man's hands were at the back of his two companion's heads, urging them on. Nam-Il licked Tae-Young from his balls to the tip of his cock, occasionally coming across Uke's tongue and licking that also, their slick hands massaging Tae-Young at the inside of his thighs.

When the older man finally came, both Nam-Il and Uke fought to get the most of it in their mouths, breaking into a fit of giggles in the process. Each then licked Tae-Young clean diligently, before crawling up his body and sharing his own taste with him. Tae-Young threw an arm around each of them and held them tightly against his, but Uke quickly crawled over both of them until he was at the far side, Nam-Il being the one lying between the two of them.

"Feel better now?" the little striker said, setting his chin on Nam-Il's shoulder.

"Yes..much better." Nam-Il said as he stroked through Uke's short hair. "Thanks to both of you.."

From behind him, Tae-Young placed an arm around his waist. "You'll make it, Nam-Il..don't worry."

"Yeah, and we'll be right with you." Uke added.

Nam-Il smiled and closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of being with the two people who loved him, albeit differently, their presence assuring him that whatever lay ahead, he would survive. That was the last thing he thought of as he drifted off to sleep, well-fed, well-fucked, safe in their embrace, no longer afraid of what tomorrow may bring but instead filled with newfound determination to show everybody that Kim Nam-Il, the one and only Kim Nam-Il, would not be broken so easily.

On to Part 6