There's no more waiting, holding out for love
You are my Godsend that I have lived
Forever dreaming of
My angel from above

What is this feeling I've never known before
That I should dare to swear to
Surrender evermore
That's what I came here for

Heaven knows, I'm head over heels and it shows
I've played every field I suppose
But there's something about you
When you're around baby I have found
I get lost in you

Lost in the wonderful days Lost in your wonderful ways

"Lost In You" - Chris Gaines

Monday, October 14th 2002
Busan Athlete's Village
6.27 a.m.

The morning dawned chilly and overcast, gray sunlight filtering through the curtains and into the room where Kim Tae-Young sat, as he had for the past two hours or so, on the chair near the window, watching Young-Pyo as he slept.

Even in the drab light, he looked beautiful. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of long lashes against his cheeks, lips partially open and making soft noises as he breathed, the tiny golden cross hanging from a chain around his neck.

Tae-Young had given up sleep after having been periodically awakened by his own disturbing thoughts, and each time he opened his eyes he had to look around and convince himself that this was the reality and not vice versa, and that Young-Pyo was asleep in his arms and that he was just fine, that no harm had come to him.

Fear of one's own self, he thought, is the greatest fear of all. It's inescapable.

He'd disentangled himself from Young-Pyo while it was still dark outside, and found himself this vantage point where he could watch the younger man as he slept. He'd been hoping for another glorious golden sunrise, lavishly bathing the sleeping figure in deep shadows and highlights, but realized that perhaps Mother Nature herself thought he didn't deserve it.

Oh well, there you go again, Kim Tae-Young-letting all that guilt bring you down, reducing you to nothing, but what else was he supposed to feel? Surely the guilt had to be there, it had to be else he had no right to call himself human.

It wouldn't be this bad if he hadn't given into his emotions two nights ago and stuck his nose-his already- healed, perhaps soon-to-be-broken-again nose-into business where it didn't belong. What happened between Nam-Il and Uke was just that-between Nam-Il and Uke. Young-Pyo's involvement was justified because of the promise Nam-Il made to him, and so was his rage. Tae-Young, on the other hand...he had no right. Before that night, he didn't even have a clue what was going on.

If he'd stayed inside, if he'd let Uke and Young-Pyo take care of it, if he hadn't gone out there and...and...

-- Let me go. Please. --

Tae-Young gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut, willing the voices and faces out of his head. They were determined to stay, determined to haunt him until his dying day unless he figured out a way to sort this one out. He only knew one solution-talk to Nam-Il, say he was sorry. No telling where that would lead them but screw it, they had to start somewhere.

But would Nam-Il talk to him? Would the thought of even trying to forgive Tae-Young come to his mind? It was so hard to digest, the knowledge that he'd lived almost a whole year suppressing that memory down to the brink of forgetting completely about it, living as they had lived before-clubmates, sometime roomates, good friends, posing for pictures and signing autographs, talking, laughing, joking-and he wanted to just bang his head against the wall for not noticing the changes in the early days, why he gave

How did you do it, Nam-Il? How were you able to-or was it because you just had no choice, no choice at all, knowing that telling Tae-Young or anyone else would only earn him the label of a slanderous bastard and God knows what else would happen-a place in the World Cup team meant everything to Nam-Il, and saying anything about that night would have ended it, and perhaps end his career as well.

So fucking unfair. And so fucking unfair that it all had to be brought up now, in the middle of all his other conflicts, and Tae-Young couldn't imagine the amount of weight that rested on the boy's shoulders as he sped off that night, bruised and bloody and soaked in rain, off to Pohang to find Hong Myung-Bo.

He remembered the encounter in the hallway-Nam-Il cowering in fear at the mere sight of him and how Hong had taken him into his arms, so protectively, his eyes staring at Tae-Young with a look that could kill.

-- You take one step closer to him, and you're a dead man. --

-- I'll make sure you're stuck wearing that face mask for the rest of your life. --

And why hadn't you, Hong? His nose was still a little prone-apparently elbows were made of hardier stuff in Italy-and breaking it again would be no difficult task for someone like Hong Myung-Bo. Someone like a severely- pissed, absolutely-disgusted, honest-to-God enraged Hong Myung-Bo.

He would not try to stand in Nam-Il's way of making things up with Uke. The boy's own wrongdoings notwithstanding, it was none of Tae-Young's business. Why he only realized it now and not two nights ago God knows. But maybe it had to do with his own sense of betrayal, like my God, Nam-Il...you were with Uke all this time and you didn't tell me? And knowing what Nam-Il had done with Ji-Sung-had done to Uke, made him feel cheated out of his judgment of his clubmate, the person that he thought he knew, like how c

And how could Tae-Young have done something like that to him, one year ago?

His thoughts were interrupted by the stirring movements on the bed, sunlight prying Young-Pyo slowly from his sleep and Tae-Young wished he could just sit here and watch him sleep forever-it was too soon, he wasn't ready.

But then the eyes opened, flickered for a moment to regard his surroundings, and then they settled on Tae-Young.

"Morning..." Tae-Young whispered hoarsely.

A little smile welcomed him. "Morning...what are you doing there?"

"Couldn't sleep." Tae-Young said, quite truthfully. "Bad dreams."

Hearing this Young-Pyo shifted his blankets away and sat up on the bed, eyes never leaving Tae-Young. Stretching-and how hard it was not to stare at that body as he stretched, he slowly got off the bed and started walking towards him.

He was still wearing his shirt-unbuttoned, exposing his chest and the hem hanging just below the waistband of his boxers. And as he stepped closer and closer Tae-Young couldn't help but take in the sight of his body, the pale flesh and the well-muscled abdomen, small and compact, and he stopped only when he was standing right in front of him, in between the slouchingly spread legs and Tae-Young's drowsy posture.

Young-Pyo smiled down at him and took his face in his hands, caressing it lightly. "Well, we made it through the night, didn't we?"

Tae-Young shrugged his shoulders. "You could've thrown me out."

"I have no reason to fear you."

"Oh, but I do, Young-Pyo...I do." Tae-Young said. "The knowledge that you're capable of doing something so terrible and yet have so little memory of it..."

"Shhh..." Young-Pyo brought a finger to his lips, silencing him. "You will do no such thing to me. I know you won't."

Tae-Young took the hands into his and brought it to his face, kissed it, lips brushing across the creased knuckles and allowing himself to enjoy it-in the gray light of morning the fear became less of a lurking monster and more of a nagging background worry, but it was still there.

He looked up and found his hands shifting, rather naturally, to rest just at the curve of Young-Pyo's hips. The younger man glanced down upon him and smiled, his hands now lacing at the back of Tae-Young's neck.

"Feel better?"

"Depends on what you're talking about."

"About me."

Tae-Young smiled back. "Yes...much better."

Two thumbs dragging along the lobes of his ears, and the face above him turned a little forlorn. "Don't give up on me, Tae-Young...please?"

"I never meant to." Tae-Young said. "I never wanted to leave, to leave...you. But this whole thing...it got a little too much."

Young-Pyo's hands went under his chin, tilting his face up. "I know you never meant to hurt him..."

The younger man stepped closer, his knees against the edge of the chair's seat, body now only inches away from Tae-Young's face.

"...and I know you're not going to hurt me."

Feeling himself give in to the irresistible charm, Tae-Young lifted his back off the chair and moved his hands up to Young-Pyo's waist, drawing him in slowly. His lips caressed the taut flesh of the midfielder's stomach, tasting the soft skin-he still smelt faintly of soap, even now.

Young-Pyo's hands were at the back of his neck, encouraging him, and he got a little more daring and flicked his tongue into the puckered flesh of the younger man's navel, drawing out a barely audible whimper. God, he felt good doing this-it should feel so wrong, it should feel so fucking wrong but noooo...he felt damn good. And would the voices please just shut the fuck up for a while and let him have this moment, thank you. He was about to go out there, inevitbaly, to face his demons and he wanted an angel b

His hands molded themselves against the gentle curve of hips and his mouth continued to kiss and suck gently, teeth nipping gently at the flesh, and he could tell by the sounds coming from above that Young-Pyo was liking it. He drew back and looked up and-heck, Young-Pyo was *loving* it. He had a heavenly smile on his face, and when he looked down to meet Tae-Young's gaze his eyes were half-lidded and sultry, and his hands slowly pulled Tae-Young to stand up.

He rose to his full height, slowly, his hands moving up Young-Pyo's torso and onto his shoulders, slowly sliding the shirt off it. Young-Pyo brought their bodies into close contact, pressed tight against each other, and Tae- Young felt the evidence of their mutual excitement just below his waistline, and Young-Pyo's delicate fingers starting to undo his belt buckle.

Guilty conscience came, predictably enough, it threatened to overtake him but he could not deny Young-Pyo of something that he wanted-obviously wanted. And Young-Pyo made no effort to hide it, he encouraged Tae- Young every step of the way, unbuttoning the older man's shirt impatiently as he pulled him back towards the bed with him.

Tae-Young didn't want to think of anything else-he didn't want to think, period. And Young-Pyo was making it so fucking easy, with the way his eyes were locked onto him, the subtle pout of his lips and that body, that beautiful little body...

They fell onto the bed together, landing in the mess of tussled blankets and sheets, and Young-Pyo gave him no chance for second-guessing as he immediately pulled him down for a searing kiss, his limber legs wrapping around the older man's waist. Tae-Young felt his inhibitons loosening, the erstwhile doubt going down the drain somewhere-sure to resurface somewhere along the way but fuck, please not now. They were halfway out of their clothes, Young-Pyo only in his boxers and Tae-Young with his shirt unbutton

Young-Pyo helped him out of the rest of his clothes and Tae-Young suddenly found himself naked, hard, a little self-conscious with sunlight illuminating everything, from the uncertainty in his face right down to his rigid, leaking cock. But Young-Pyo was having none of it, he reached out for the older man's arms and pulled him down, Tae-Young's weight settling on his body, the heat of their arousal pressed together and making them both moan out loud.

Tae-Young wrapped his arms around the midfielder's body and kissed him, sucking on his pretty lips, tongues wrestling, fingers reaching down to hook at the waistband of Young-Pyo's boxers and pulling it down, and he felt the slick pop of another hard cock against his own, pre-cum dripping and mixing together, and it made him hot as hell.

Young-Pyo seemed to share his sentiments, judging by the impatient, not-at-all-graceful way in which he struggled to be rid of his boxers, kicking them over the side of the bed. The movement, whether intentionally or not, also caused his legs to spread wide, and before Tae-Young knew it they had their hips locked together, full contact and all, his eager cock now pressed against the tiny pucker of Young-Pyo's opening.

The sudden shift caught him off guard, threw him off his delicate rhythm, and he found himself staring down at Young-Pyo with what must have looked like utter confusion on his face-and the fear that was starting to creep back up his spine.

But Young-Pyo quickly remedied this-he took Tae-Young's face in his hands and kissed him, the honey of his lips quelling the fresh surge of doubt in the older man's heart, his arms going around the muscled neck.

"Do it..." he whispered longingly.

"Young-Pyo..."

"I want you to do it." Young-Pyo said, undulating his hips as encouragement. "I want it."

Emphasis on want, Tae-Young thought. Relenting, he leaned down and began sucking at the hollow of Young- Pyo's throat, worrying the golden chain between his teeth, the soft jingling noise of the cross as he dragged his lips down the pale, flawless skin of the little midfielder's chest.

One of his hands moved down between their bodies, gathering the copious amount of fluids that had already been spilled there, coating his hand with it, and slowly a finger began prodding at the younger man's entrance. He was determined to take this slow, as slow as it required because he did not want to risk hurting Young-Pyo in any way, even if he took forever to prepare. He'd wait. Young-Pyo was worth it.

The finger slid in effortlessly past his second knuckle and Tae-Young began moving it, in and out, slicking the tight little hole, Young-Pyo murmuring his agreement every inch of the way. Tae-Young decided he'd distract himself from whatever discomfort might arise from the realization of what he was doing-and found it in the vast expanse of pale flesh that was there right before his eyes. And oh-where do we start? There's so much there to explore...and he wanted all of it.

He started by licking a fine trail up Young-Pyo's stomach, tongue feeling the contours of the well-muscled abdomen, then drifting sideways to lavish attention on one of the midfielder's nipples. He sucked it, more or less in rhythm with the way his finger was moving in and out of the younger man's ass, taking the tender flesh into his mouth and loving the way Young-Pyo was responding, body squirming involuntarily.

He moved to the other nipple just as he was adding another finger into the process, this time swirling his tongue around the tiny bud until it hardened, Young-Pyo's arms now resigned to rest at the sides of his head, clutching his pillow and giving Tae-Young full access to everything. Tae-Young took the invitation whole-heartedly, his lips pouting to suck greedily at the sensitive nipple, his fingers picking up its pace.

Between them, Young-Pyo's cock was leaking profusely, his pubic hair soaked, and Tae-Young delighted in feeling the viscous liquid smear between their legs, thick and wet, and his own cock throbbed in anticipation of what was to come next.

When he judged that Young-Pyo was sufficiently prepared, he pulled his fingers out and gently lifted the midfielder's ankles to rest on his shoulders. Young-Pyo, his face dreamy and lust-driven, wriggled himslef underneath Tae-Young and pushed his ass up, rather impatiently, to meet the older man's cock.

"You ready?" Tae-Young asked, just to be sure.

"Oh yeah..." Young-Pyo smiled.

Tae-Young pushed in, very slowly, and it was a mighty effort to get the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle. He held himself back, bracing his arms on either side of Young-Pyo's body, reminding himself to go slow, slow, slow-don't hurt him.

"Go on..." Young-Pyo encouraged him, as if reading his mind. "It doesn't hurt..."

Tae-Young pushed a little further in, inch by inch, and the friction was heavenly-he felt like that tiny entrance was just going to suck his cock in whole, tight as a vacuum seal. Young-Pyo was pushing up against him, opening himself up, trying whatever he could to speed up the process. Then finally, after what seemed like forever, Tae- Young's entire length was buried deep inside the younger man's ass.

"Oh, God..." Tae-Young exclaimed. "You're a lot tighter than I imagined..."

Young-Pyo's two sweaty palms caressed his cheeks. "And you're a lot bigger than I imagined..." he paused to drag his tongue along the few days' worth of stubble on the older man's chin. "...but I'm not complaining."

Tae-Young began moving, slow and tentative at first, but gradually quickening as Young-Pyo made it evident that he was having the time of his life. A silky sheen of sweat formed on his flesh, gleaming even in the drab sunlight, and Tae-Young wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man's body as they made love.

They kissed, they licked and sucked, Young-Pyo tangling his fingers in the sweaty auburn mass of Tae-Young's hair as the older man revisited his playing grounds, dotting the flawless skin of his torso with wet kisses, sucking at his swollen, sore nipples, tongue flicking over the taut flesh of his neck, their thumping hearts pressed close together and mimicked by their frantic rhythm.

Tae-Young lost himself in the blissful tightness, the feel of Young-Pyo in his arms, and he gave it everything he had-heart, body, soul. If this was his salvation, he thought, then God was definitely being very kind to him. After last night's revelation, he'd been so sure that whatever chances he had with Young-Pyo were gone, that he would never get to do anything even resembling this-much less actually doing it, here and now.

Young-Pyo sucked on the older man's mouth greedily, bringing him back into the present, his cheeks hollowing in, and when he pried himself loose his eyes had gone glassy with desire, lips red and swollen.

"I'm gonna come..." he whispered.

Tae-Young nodded and helped him along by fucking him even harder, and he felt the first thick spurt of cum hit his stomach only moments later, followed by another.

The contraction of Young-Pyo's tight muscles around his cock pulled his own orgasm out of him, and he came moaning the midfielder's name, flooding into him, blood pounding in his ears.

When the tremors were over Tae-Young felt his body going slack, his limbs feeling that satisfied ache of fulfillment, and he rolled over on his side and took Young-Pyo into his arms, cock slipping out of the younger man's drenched entrance. They kissed for long moments, lazily playing their lips about, enjoying the post-coital heat, steam rising off their bodies.

"Thank you..." Tae-Young whispered breathlessly.

"Oh, no..." Young-Pyo shook his head and kissed the tip of the older man's nose. "Thank you."

"I wish I could just stay here forever."

"Me, too." Young-Pyo said, stroking Tae-Young's face languidly. "Breakfast call's at nine this morning. You don't have to leave just yet..."

"I have to take a shower."

"Can we take it together?"

Tae-Young cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm afraid we'll never get things done that way..."

"We'll split the tasks. I do the shampoo, you do the soap." Young-Pyo deadpanned.

"Ehh, that's not *exactly* what I was talking about..."

A mischievous grin broke across the younger man's face. "Still, it's worth the try..."

Uke woke up to the sound of the television buzz, and the faint noise of running water from the bathroom. Blinking sleepily, he looked around and saw that Chun-Soo's bed was empty, the door to the bathroom ajar. He glanced at the TV and rolled his eyes.

Pops in Seoul? Great, what a way to wake up on a Monday morning. Watching Shinhwa, proud Korean icon of all things pop and manufactured, doing their funky dance routines on the rooftop of a skyscraper-singing the cliche boy band lyrics like baby I'm gonna get you, you're my girl, I love you, blah blah blah.

Chun-Soo came out of the bathroom, adjusting his shorts as he smiled rather sleepily, his hair a tussled mess. "Morning..."

"Morning..." Uke said. "You watching *this* crap?"

"Give them some credit."

"They can't sing." Uke groaned.

"Second guy from the left is pretty cute. Give them some credit."

"You know him?"

"No, I just think he's cute. Why would I know him?"

"That friend of yours...the movie star. He goes around with the celebrities, no?"

"Won Bin?" Chun-Soo raised his eyebrows. "Haven't talked to him in ages. Too busy. But yeah, he knows a few of the Shinhwa guys."

"Won Bin's pretty cute also." Uke commented drowsily.

"I can introduce you to him, if you want." Chun-Soo winked at him.

"No, thanks." Uke shook his head. "Slept well last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah, pretty much. How'd you know?"

"Well...you didn't cry, for one thing."

Chun-Soo smiled. "One of those rare nights when I actually have reason not to."

"Captain talked to you?"

"Yeah. He's proud, so I'm happy." Chun-Soo said. "Where'd you go last night?"

"Lobby." Uke sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Talked to Nam-Il. Yeah, Nam-Il. He came with the Captain, apparently."

"Oh." Chun-Soo said. "And if I may ask...what did he say?"

"That he made a big, big mistake, he was a stupid fucking idiot and a selfish one to boot-and oh yeah, that he wants me back." Uke said flatly.

Chun-Soo's eyebrows arched into a befuddled expression. "And..."

"And I told him to give me some time." Uke said. "Can't decide that quickly."

Chun-Soo nodded understandingly. "Well, then I may have something here that can help your decision..."

"Huh?"

Chun-Soo retrieved something from his bedside table and gave it to Uke. It was a piece of paper, folded to mimic an envelope, and on it was written Uke's full name, in a handwriting he couldn't recognize.

"Found it slipped underneath our door when I first woke up this morning..." Chun-Soo explained. "I think I know who wrote it, but you'll have to read it to be sure."

Uke fumbled with the folds-his fingers had evidently not waken up with the rest of his body yet-and opened it, revealing a letter written with a black pen on a plain piece of white paper.

Uke,

I wish I knew how to properly say to you what I'm feeling right now. But I can't, and you probably don't give a shit, so let me just make it short and simple.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever thought of taking Nam-Il away from you, for even coming here and thinking that he and I still had a chance. I didn't know-I absolutely didn't know that you were with him, though I can't say for sure that I would've done things differently if I had. I wasn't man enough to take it, to accept the facts, to give up even when it was obvious that things were going nowhere.

But all is clear now-and I'm sorry you had to go through all the pain he and I put you through before I realized the truth. He doesn't love me. He once did, probably, but not anymore. What's more important is that he loves you. He told me this, by his own words, that he's made his choice, and he's chosen you.

I know you will find it hard to trust him again after this, and I don't blame you, but please give him a chance. He left no doubt in my mind that it's you that he's in love with, not me. And yes, you're probably wondering why it took him so long to realize it, but give him credit-he tried. And it was that love for you that made him resist me-yes, he resisted, he resisted me till the last moment. And the reason why he eventually gave in was not because his love for you wasn't strong enough, but because I just

My ego was just too much for my own good that I just couldn't take no for an answer, where he's clearly said so. I'm ashamed of myself, though that may not change anything. I thought I was ready for this, that I was strong enouh, and I was terribly wrong.

You don't have to forgive me,Uke... but please forgive him. He loves you. Please give him a chance. Now I can only pray for the happiness of you both, and I pray that neither of you will have to go through this sort of ordeal ever again.

He loves you-please love him.

Sincerely,

Park Ji-Sung

Uke took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his fingers trembling as he held the letter in his hands.

--He loves you. Nam-Il loves you.--

He opened his eyes again and was met with Chun-Soo's inquisitive gaze, and Uke handed the letter over to him, gesturing for him to read it. As Chun-Soo took the letter and started reading, Uke's hand reached over to his bedside table and retrieved the koru, fingers tangling in the cord as the seashell pendant gleamed in the sunlight, nestled against his palm, and he held it close to the rapid beating of his chest.

--He loves you.--

Chun-Soo looked up from the letter to gaze at his friend, and then his fingers neatly folded the paper back to its original state and he handed it back to Uke.

"It's your call..." he said calmly.

Uke nodded and took the letter in his trembling hand, eyes blinking back at tears that had somehow welled up there, for whatever reasons.

"I have to talk to Ji-Sung..."

Chun-Soo shook his head. "Ji-Sung's gone. He hopped on the first flight back to Japan. I assume he slipped this letter under our door just as he was checking out."

"What? Why?"

"Kyoto wants him back there as soon as he's done here-they don't want him to linger for the closing ceremonies and all."

"That's not fair."

"Club vs. country...the old routine." Chun-Soo shrugged. "You can always call him-sometime later."

"Yeah, I suppose so..." Uke fumbled with the koru in one hand, the letter in the other.

"So he gave it back..." Chun-Soo said. "Your necklace."

"What? Oh, this..." Uke held out the koru. "Actually, I asked to have it back."

"Don't you want to put it back on?"

"No..." Uke shook his head and looked up at Chun-Soo, then smiled weakly. "He put it on me the last time-I want him to do the same again."

Chun-Soo took a deep breath and glanced at him. "Does that mean you've made up your mind?"

"Maybe I've made up my mind a long time ago..." Uke said. "Just not ready to announce it to the world yet."

"Don't wait too long." Chun-Soo said. "Can be a fatal mistake, believe me."

"I won't." Uke assured him, trying to speak over the rapid pounding inside his chest.

--He loves you. He's chosen you.--

Young-Pyo pulled on his pair of clean underwear lazily as he leaned back against Tae-Young, the older man's hands working a towel through his wet hair. The shower had been pretty uneventful, since Tae-Young's lack of sleep coupled with their earlier-well, 'encounter' had left him pretty much fatigued.

Not that Young-Pyo was complaining. Tae-Young's presence, more than anything, was a calming influence in his otherwise not-so-cheerful disposition. He was still bummed about the penalty miss, still in denial over the fact that the medal he got was bronze, not gold, and he was terribly burned out from the whole tournament. And the sex was-well, truth be told, Young-Pyo's experiences were too few and far between to make a fair comparison, but if he had to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10...he'd give it a 20.

He knew he should feel awkward about the situation-having heard about what happened between Tae-Young and Nam-Il. Strangely, he didn't. He'd hate to think that it was because he was indifferent to Nam-Il's suffering, or that he just couldn't believe that Tae-Young could do something like that. He believed. Tae- Young's guilt was so palpable, and Young-Pyo knew the last thing he needed was someone pointing a cursing finger at him, bringing him down even more.

"Hey...you awake?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah..." Young-Pyo smiled drowsily. "Just drifting there, a little..."

"What were you thinking about?"

Young-Pyo pulled the towel away from his shoulders and turned around to look at Tae-Young, the older man's face showing uncertainty.

"About you."

"Having second thoughts?" Tae-Young asked hesitantly.

"Oh, no..." Young-Pyo leaned in to kiss the older man's lips gently. "Anything but that."

Tae-Young wrapped his arms tightly around the midfielder's body, and Young-Pyo let his head fall to rest on the broad shoulders in front of him.

"I feel like I don't want to go..." Tae-Young whispered.

"Well, I don't want you to." Young-Pyo replied faintly.

Tae-Young drew back and held Young-Pyo's face in his hands gently, the expression on his face serious. "I know what I have to do, Young-Pyo. I've got to sort out this mess."

"I know."

"I just hope that when I'm done with it..." the older man heaved a deep breath. "You'll still be waiting for me."

Young-Pyo shook his head. "I don't want to wait."

"Young-Pyo..."

"No." Young-Pyo persisted. "I know you've got a lot of things to sort out, and I know none of it is my business. But do you seriously want to be alone while you try to find your way out of it?"

Tae-Young looked doubtful. "I just...I don't want to-"

"You'll put me at no risk. I know it. We're going to be just fine." Young-Pyo reached down and held Tae- Young's large hands. "There's no reason why I can't be with you."

Tae-Young finally gave in and smiled weakly. "And here I thought I was asking for too much already..."

Young-Pyo let his forehead rest against the older man's, nuzzling him gently. "Do you think you'll need me?"

"Yes." Tae-Young replied without hesitation. "Now more than ever."

"Then I'm not going anywhere." Young-Pyo said.

Tae-Young leaned in and kissed him, Young-Pyo letting his eyes fall closed as he tasted the older man's lips, the tender flesh molding against his own.

"Thank you..." Tae-Young said finally. "You don't know how much that means to me."

"Hey, if you're not giving up on me, I sure as hell won't give up on you." Young-Pyo said with a smile.

The older man stroked a large hand down his face, returning the smile faintly. "I should go now..."

Young-Pyo nodded, and he helped Tae-Young back into his clothes, before walking him towards the door. As they did the previous morning, they peeked into the corridor to make sure that nobody was there.

"All clear..." Young-Pyo winked back at Tae-Young.

Adjusting his jacket, Tae-Young stepped out onto the corridor and took a cautious look around, and Young-Pyo followed him.

"Well...I guess I gotta go." he said.

Young-Pyo nodded. "When will I see you again?"

"I'll call you tonight." Tae-Young said. "I plan to go see the closing ceremonies."

"Really? Can you still get tickets?"

"Probably somewhere high up in the rafters...better view of the configurations." Tae-Young said. "Come here..."

Young-Pyo was drawn into a strong embrace, his head tilting up instinctively to meet the older man's lips, one hand caressing the back of his neck. Tae-Young released him after a few long moments, seemingly reluctant to let go.

"Take care of yourself..." Young-Pyo whispered.

"You too..."

He watched as Tae-Young walked away, staring longingly at him until he disappeared at the end of the corridor. Suddenly, Young-Pyo felt lonely again, but he fought not to let it come up to the surface.

"Young-Pyo..." a familiar voice called from behind him.

Startled, Young-Pyo turned around and saw that Uke was standing there, at the corner from the other end of the corridor, holding a folded piece of paper in one hand.

"Uke..." Young-Pyo said a little nervously. "Hi."

Seeing Uke gave him quite a shock. First, he wondered if Uke had seen Tae-Young leave-not that he'd mind that much, really. Second, and more cause for discomfort, was that during the course of the night he'd not considered Uke's position in the whole mess.

Like hi, Uke...yes, I had a good time last night, and-oh, by the way, my new boyfriend *raped* yours about a year ago but he's sorry now.

"I need to talk to you." Uke said. "Can we go inside?"

Young-Pyo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. As they went back into the room, Young-Pyo quickly sat on his bed, a little embarrassed at the way the sheets were so tussled, but Uke seemed to take no heed of it.

--Don't tell him. You'll break his heart. He'll never forgive Tae-Young.--

He waited as Uke sat down at his own untouched bed, setting his hands on his knees, the look on his face all seriousness.

"You might not like what I'm about to say..." he began.

"Well, I..." Young-Pyo shrugged, trying to control his nerves. "I wouldn't know until you've said it."

--Don't tell him. He won't be able to take it. Don't tell him.--

"Nam-Il came here last night." Uke said slowly.

The mention of Nam-Il's name made Young-Pyo's hands curl in reflexively, not so much out of anger as it was out of the memory of what Tae-Young had told him last night. He could barely look into Uke's eyes-though Uke might interpret his reaction as just another aspect of him being so angry at Nam-Il.

"Uh...he did?" Young-Pyo managed to say.

"He came to see Ji-Sung. And to see me."

--Don't tell him, Young-Pyo. Don't tell him.--

"And...what did he want?"

It came out wrong, he knew it. It sounded like he was being hostile. He wasn't. He was confused. He was scared. And he was guilty as hell.

Uke's expression grew hesitant, biting his lips down. "He wants me back, Young-Pyo."

Young-Pyo had expected that. He knew that one was coming.

"Look, you can hate me for this one...I know I caused you a lot of worry with the way I acted, and I know you're very upset with him...but I want him back, too."

Young-Pyo didn't reply. He could hear the words, he knew what they meant, but his mind was on something else entirely.

--Don't tell him.-

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" came the hushed reply to his quietness.

"What?" Young-Pyo forced himself to focus. "No, I'm not. Why would I be mad at you?"

"You're still mad at him, then."

Young-Pyo thought about it. Yes, he was still mad. Nam-Il did hurt Uke, after all. Hurt him after all his promises not to.

"What about Ji-Sung, Uke?"

Uke fidgeted with the folded paper in his hands. "Ji-Sung wrote me this..." he said as he gave it over to Young- Pyo.

He read it, shifting through the words, almost workmanlike, going back and forth every now and then as he tried to focus. The words came almost as no surprise to him-Ji-Sung's guilt, Nam-Il's guilt, he expected it to be there. Of course, he didn't expect Nam-Il to come out of it so quickly-but he'd been wrong about Nam-Il on far too many occasions.

When he was done with it he looked up to see Uke looking at him expectantly. Young-Pyo breathed deeply. "You're a big boy, Uke. You make your own decisions."

"I know. But I have to know what you think of this decision."

You're about to resume relationship with a man who's hurt you badly. You're about to resume relationship with a man who's *been* hurt badly. By the person I'm starting to fall for, no less. Gods, Uke...what am I supposed to say?

Young-Pyo swallowed hard. "I believe in second chances, Uke."

And who was he saying it for? Nam-Il, or Tae-Young?

Uke didn't seem to mind. His face broke into a little smile. "Thank you."

Young-Pyo could only nod in response.

--Don't tell him.--

"You wanna get breakfast? I'm kinda hungry." Uke said finally.

"Yeah, sure." Young-Pyo said, glad for the change of subject. "Let's go."

--Don't tell him, Young-Pyo. Don't tell him.--

On to Part 26