Disclaimer: thank ur lucky stars that mystic messenger isn't my IP i fucking luv angst :^) this was a vent fic so if ur looking for an optimistic or fluffy ending maybe...don't...sry... look, i think seven would be a very Good boyfriend but ya boy's got baggage for days it ain't gonna be sunshine all the time u kno
also all the spoilers for seven's route & secret endings kinda. i took liberties w/ timelines and stuff bc eleven days to fall for a gemini bait & switch boy is not enough in my honest and correct opinion
written in 2nd person bc i find that easiest to keep it generally gender neutral but if that's not ur thing sorry
do we have to talk about it?
you know how i make you feel, right?
you know that i'd be lost without you
you never felt something so real, right?
feelings fade, gnash
707: Honey I'm hoooooooome !
You stare at the message with a blank expression for a few moments before swiping up.
Against your better judgement, you feel your lips pull upwards at the photos attached of the security footage of Seven holding Elizabeth the 3rd, and trying to avoid being clawed in the face — to no avail. The scar at the bottom of his lip was, embarrassingly, the first thing you noticed as soon as you were allowed a good look at him in person.
MC: wow cute
MC: screenshotted n sending to Cat Daddy
707: BETRAYAL? By my own disciple? ?
MC: u should know better than to send pics of pretty ladies in ur arms then
707: Ah! So your motivation is jealousy… I see…
707: That's a venial sin you know
MC: [ screenshot of message being sent to Jumin ]
MC: god
MC: is
MC: dead
707: ! ! ! !
A huff of air escapes your lips — maybe a sound born of amusement, maybe of resentment. You glance up and find the back turned towards you has grown stiff. Pangs of irritation and sadness shoot through you like jolts of electricity. It's like you can't do anything right, even when you're doing literally Nothing. Frustrated, and confused, you get to your feet and stomp your way out of the room but not before you feel burning eyes on the back of your neck, watching you go. Not stopping you.
"I'm going to bed," you announce tonelessly.
A pause and then, "Fine."
No goodnight. No 'sleep well'. Just…Fine.
Crawling into bed, you unlock your phone once more and peer down at it, running your fingers through these empty messages over and over to find the ones you're looking for.
MC: tired from trying to finesse ur precious Long Cat into coming to the party, i'm heading off to sleep xx
707: ? ? ?
MC: o right
MC: Agent 606 signing off…over
707: Copy. Agent 707 wishing Agent 606 pleasant dreams of cats at the space station, over
MC: Copy… Agent 606 warning Agent 707 to get some rest or ass kicking will commence in….
707: A threat?!
MC: sleep
707: Your concern is touching ;;; what a dedicated disciple I've acquired (〃∇〃)
MC: sleep or i'm Telling on u to mom
707: V doesn't answer calls lololol good luck
MC: [screenshot of dialing Jaehee]
707: WOW Suddenly I'm in my pajamas and all tucked into bed? How weird ;;
707: GOODNIGHT ! !
You exhale deeply, eyes growing bleary at the sheer brightness of your phone screen, but every fiber in your body is unwilling to put it down. You stare longingly at the quickly blurring text when a loud, incessant beeping alerts you to a new message. It's with reluctance that you slide to your inbox, knowing that the culprit cannot possibly be the one you're desperately wishing it to be.
Jaehee Kang: You haven't been in the chat all day. Are you feeling well?
MC: i'm fine ! sorry to worry you ;; just busy with guests and, stuff, you know?
You're already scrambling to open the app, ever the people pleaser. You hesitate once you see that everyone except Seven is logged in. While you actually do feel bad for being negligent, a big part of you is not ready to deal with Zen's nagging about his misconstrued ideas of the inner workings of the male psych, and Jumin's thinly veiled accusations. At least Jaehee is careful to keep her judgment to herself, in this case.
Jaehee Kang: Stuff.
Jaehee Kang: Is Seven bothering you?
MC: lol no
MC: opposite of bothering, even !
Jaehee Kang: That doesn't seem possible… The hacker, then?
Pale green eyes spring to mind, along with the sour — horrible — expression he'd worn. You shiver, still able to feel phantom hands grabbing you forcefully.
MC: kind of
MC: but i'm not scared,, Seven's here after all !
Jaehee Kang: Just remember you have all of our support. And resources. If you ever feel like you can't stand to be in that apartment, you're welcome to stay with me. Or, I'm sure Mr. Han could help you find other arrangements if preferable.
MC: thanks Jaehee, but i think i have to stay
The way Seven had stared at the hacker — Unknown — as though he'd seen a ghost.
Even if he's being a pain, you can't leave him here alone. He'd probably deprive his body of nutrients, gorging himself on chips and soda and getting no sleep…
If nothing else, you'll keep him alive by sliding him vitamins in the morning and sneaking glasses of water onto his desk when he's taking a bathroom break.
Jaehee Kang: If you're certain… Well, I'm glad to know you're alright, at least. Have a good night.
MC: thank you Jaehee, you have my support, too. i know you'll need it with a boss like Jumin Han lol. don't stay up working too late! !
Jaehee Kang: Thank you. Rest well, MC.
You lock your phone, and sleep comes torturously slow.
You wake at the usual time — if you've timed this right, Seven should be passed out at the keyboard for the next forty-five minutes, or so. It takes you about ten minutes to brush your teeth and get dressed. You always end up showering at night, while he's occupied and effectively ignoring you, not wanting to risk waking him abruptly with the running water. As you pad your way to the kitchen, you hear movement coming from the living room and freeze.
Footsteps draw near, and you seriously consider making a break for the bedroom and locking yourself in there for the rest of the day. But that's ridiculous. You're ridiculous. Everything about this situation is ridiculous.
The footsteps come to an end, and you glance over your shoulder — and there he is. His hair is tousled, like maybe he'd fallen asleep earlier and for longer than you'd predicted, and his glasses are askew on his nose. He blinks at you, almost comically, if not for the horrible bags accompanying his usually beautiful eyes.
You stare back at him, perplexed. This is the longest you've been in a room with him without him calling you an annoyance or distraction and telling you to go away.
It's a few seconds before he exhales, a pensive expression overtaking his face. "Morning," he mumbles.
You almost don't believe it.
You almost don't respond out of spite for the last two days.
"Good morning," you reply, careful to not let any strong emotion into your tone, lest you scare him off. Your eyes flicker to the kitchen, and you see him watching you with that same troubled look on his face. Hesitation keeps you silent for a minute, before you risk the pain you know accompanies rejection from him. "Breakfast?"
His jaw tightens, and somehow, you know you've lost him. Again. "I should — "
"It won't take more than twenty minutes," you try, a little desperately. "That's about the time you were going to spend getting ready, anyway, right? So just go do that and come eat when you're done."
"I — "
"Please?" Your voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day, I promise."
Seven's eyes trail your face before settling at staring just over your shoulder. "Fine," he complies, reluctance exuding from his very being. You watch him take long steps with his long legs towards the bathroom and breathe to yourself to try and ease the nerves you can feel coming on. It's just Seven. Maybe it's not the Seven you thought you'd meet, but he's still Seven. Somewhere in that shell, you're sure, the meme lord you came to have a dumb (and unadvisable) crush on is laying dormant. And he'll come back when the worst of this over. Right?
Right…
Your hands are a little shaky as you prepare breakfast, but that can't be helped. You set the table, though you're almost positive that he'll take his plate back to the computer anyway. You leave the bottle of vitamins next to his plate, and pour him an excessive amount of orange juice — the coffee is all yours, because it's not like he needs the extra caffeine, right? You've just got around to plating the food when he stumbles in with wet hair and his glasses fogged up. You stare at him, transfixed.
He shifts awkwardly under your attention. "Thanks for the food," he grumbles, and you're stunned when he sits down. He grabs the bottle and appraises it, shaking it a little, looking amused at the rattling sound. "So, you were the one leaving these."
"Obviously," you respond, still a bit dumbfounded. "Did you think it was faeries or what? We're the only ones in this apartment."
Seven looks startled at that, almost like he hadn't been expecting a response. You watch him swallow deeply, your eyes fixating on his throat. No. Bad. Stop that. You think you've offended him into silence, which maybe might seem like adequate revenge for what he's been putting you through, but ultimately it's not what you were going for at all. So, you offer him a tentative, joking smile. "What kind of disciple would I be if I couldn't at least do that?"
He doesn't seem to know what to do with the truce you're offering. "I…"
"Eat," you encourage lightly, because you really suspect you don't want to hear what he's about to say. He's got that fight or flight look on his face, the one that always seems to come before the 'You're a nuisance' and 'I have work to do…' You take a bite of your own food, trying not to stare too hard for too long, but it's a difficult endeavor because there he is.
And he's not running. For once.
He doesn't say anything more, but you're gratified to watch him eat something other than honey buddha chips for the first time in two days. He seems relatively pleased, too, practically inhaling it and taking large gulps of juice in between bites. He's going to get a stomachache, and he'll deserve it, you decide just a smidgen vindictively. It's kind of ridiculous that you have to baby a grown man like this just to get him to eat properly but… Would you really take him any other way?
His glasses slip down his nose, and with a cute little sigh he pushes them back up with his index finger.
No. You absolutely wouldn't.
When he asks you to run with him — reminding you that it'll be dangerous; stupidly, stupidly dangerous — there isn't even a question.
You'll go anywhere with him, and he must've known it from the start, you think.
All that pushing, and pushing, and pushing — for what?
You were bound to collide sooner or later. You're just glad that in this case, at least, it's sooner.
When he asks you for a favor, a selfish one, with that contrite expression — you're lost. You know his sense of self worth is warped, for some reason he's under the impression that he doesn't deserve the care, or love, you're willing to provide. Still, he asks. You don't know if that says more about him, or you. It doesn't matter, you decide, because his hands are cupping your face as soon as you breathe out 'yes', his mouth is hot on yours and the rest of the world is nothing.
He lays you down gently and kisses you sweetly.
You want to laugh — because Zen's voice, of all things, in the back of your head echoing 'All men are wolves, MC!' — and even in your completely kiss-drunk state, the voice in your head is aware enough to tell him to shut the hell up. If all men are wolves, Saeyoung is a puppy.
You do end up giggling against his mouth at the fleeting thought, and he peers down at you curiously, and just a touch offended. "Is something funny," he demands, though you know his face by now well enough to see his lips threatening to quirk into a full blown grin; the one you're beginning to love the very most.
"Yes," you whisper conspiratorially, hand running along the length of his jaw. You feel a bit smug when you feel how hard he swallows at the light touch.
"You're not inspiring a ton of confidence in my wooing abilities," he replies dryly, but there's a glint in his eyes that's impossible to miss. He's as happy as you are to be in this situation — at least for the moment. You know the grand picture is looking bleak, though it's beginning to feel manageable as long as you have each other. You run your hand up, up, up and into his hair. He gives you an amused smile.
"Your wooing abilities are fine," you reply, reaching up to peck his nose. "You've gotten this far, haven't you?"
"Somehow," he agrees; kissing you long and slow. The hand you have in his hair holds him down, and you arch up into the kiss, letting out an incredibly embarrassing sound that's thankfully muffled somewhat by the kiss. Saeyoung doesn't miss it because of course he doesn't. When you pull away, flushed, he lets out a snort. "Never mind. I guess you really are into me."
"Shut up," you warn. He imitates the sound you'd just made with offensive accuracy. He even goes so far as to throw his head back dramatically, like something straight out of a raunchy film. "Okay, I'm leaving," you say, trying to roll out from under him but his arms cage you in. Your sour expression doesn't waver even as he showers you with kisses all over your face apologetically.
He nips at your nose, not looking very sorry at all, if his smug expression is anything to go by. "Don't go," he breathes.
"I suppose I can be persuaded to stay," comes your lilted reply, a little too breathless for your pride to be unaffected.
"Can you?" He asks, his mouth a murmur against your neck. His hands wander, and your heart jumps. You meet his eyes, all of a sudden the seriousness of the situation weighing down on you. Seven seems to feel the same because he gives you a level look, and repeats, "Can you?" His lower lip quivers. "Will you…"
You pat his cheek, a soft smile touching your lips. "I said I was with you no matter what, didn't I? Badly timed jokes that kind of ruin the mood and all."
The smile he fixes you with, then, is blinding.
You thought you'd seen the last of Saeyoung distancing himself after that night.
You were wrong.
But it was naive thought, after all. There were bigger and more important things in this world than the two of you, of course, and one of those things would always be Saeran. You don't hold it against him — either of them — because you understand the importance of family, and they've been kept apart for far too long, in the most unfortunate of circumstances. It's just… You weren't expecting to be completely tossed aside in the aftermath.
Maybe that's too much, too harsh.
With Saeran's recovery, Saeyoung practically lives at the hospital. Sometimes you'll accompany him, on the rare occasion you don't feel like an intruder, and you'll make snack runs while he converses with Saeran's doctor. You've never actually been in to see Saeran — something about your face triggering the worst of his memories, or something. You understand, you just don't know how this is going to work if you have to play hide and seek whenever Saeyoung's brother is around. And you know he will be, once he's gone through the remainder of his rehabilitation.
In the midst of all this chaos — V's funeral, Rika's recovery, Saeran's recovery — it seems there's little room left in this picture for God Seven and his faithful disciple's happily ever after. At least, at the moment.
It hurts, but you know that as bad as it's been for you, it's a thousand times worse for the others. They'd all known V as a brother, and Saeyoung…
You can't imagine how he's feeling; partially because he won't let you in.
You do your best to grin and bear it, making sure to sit him down for a proper meal every now and then. You even manage to ward off Vanderwood for a time, which is nothing short of a miracle, if you say so yourself. You think the grisly agent might feel a little sorry for you, which… Well, you aren't sure how that's supposed to make you feel. More often than not, you end up herding your sort of boyfriend to bed, reminding him that he can't help his twin if he's dead on his feet. He grumbles at you, but always relents in the end, exhaustion beating out his stubbornness.
On the excruciatingly long days he spends out at the hospital, you throw yourself into work. Jumin's not particularly thrilled about taking over for V, and who can blame him? But the man is resilient, if nothing else. He's already mapped out dates for future parties, planning them around holidays and the like to ensure the usual guests will be free. Naturally, that means there's plenty for you to do. You wonder if he knows that your coping methods are steadily becoming eerily similar, or if he even cares. You think he does. Sometimes he'll give you a look; one that implies Jumin Han is more emotionally aware than anyone could've possibly predicted. He sends Elizabeth over with Jaehee, and an expensive bottle of wine, to keep you sane on particularly long nights. You don't know when it happened, because you'd initially been so put off by his cold demeanor, but the Ice Prince himself quickly becomes one of your best friends.
The others are all supportive, too, of course. Yoosung is, understandably, preoccupied and distraught. The beloved cousin he assumed dead… You don't want to think about all the times you'd spent listening to him grieve, and now…
Zen is busy, but even so, he still goes out of his way to check on everyone like the mother hen he pretends he isn't. He even goes out of his way to make sure Jumin isn't overworking himself — indirectly, through you, of course — on the odd occasion.
They're all amazing people, and you love that you have them in your life now, but none of them are Saeyoung.
And though it makes you feel all kinds of guilty, you're getting a little tired of playing housekeeper and parent to the man that's supposed to be your boyfriend.
It won't last forever, you tell yourself. He's still in there. Give him time. He's been through a lot. Patience is what he needs, don't be selfish…
— — — — — — — — — — —
The day Saeran moves in with Saeyoung is the day you start moving what little you had left at the bunker out. Saeyoung tries to tell you that it isn't necessary, even though you both know that's a lie. While Saeran isn't outwardly hostile towards you any longer, it's still hard for him to be around you for long periods of time, and you aren't about to put any more stress on this situation than what already exists.
You smile, though your chest aches. "It's only for now," you say. It tastes like a lie. Who knows how long it'll be until Saeran can look at you without the thought of putting his hands around your neck lingering in the back of his mind? You're packing clothes when Saeyoung's hands cover yours, and you glance up at him warily.
If he asks you to stay, you aren't entirely confident you'll be able to say no, though you know that it's best.
"I love you," he says, entwining his fingers with yours. He squeezes your hand.
You squeeze back. It feels like you're constantly being torn from the one person's side you'd stay by for the rest of your life, and that's what makes it so hard to say it back. You don't know if you can, even after all this time. "I know," you say instead. He seems to understand and releases your hand in favor of cupping your cheeks and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
You shut your eyes, focusing on the warmth of him and nothing else just for a moment.
707: Do I need to beat up Jumin Han
MC: … what
707: Are you having an affair
707: with the Cat Dad Sadist from hell ?
MC: oh my god
707: That wasn't a no (；￢＿￢)
MC: NO
MC: WHY WOULD YOU EVEN
707: We haven't been able to see each other much lately ;;
MC: SO
707: You spend a lot of time with the trustfund kid
MC: TO PLAN THE PARTY
707: It's always work in all the dramas please don't leave me think of the CHILDREN
707: I'm not ready to be a single dad MC !
MC: that's good bc u don't have kids SAEYOUNG
707: ? ? ? Are you saying they're not mine ? ?
707: I knew it was suspicious that Yoosung came out blond
MC: first of all Yoosung isn't even a natural blond ur a fake dad
MC: second of all
MC: [selfie of MC flipping off camera]
707: lololol love u
MC: (￣З￣)
707: We should meet soon
MC: idk i'm pretty busy
MC: you might have to take it up with my assistant
707: (」゜ロ゜)」
You know you shouldn't be upset with him — it's not his fault, and you know he's trying his best. And yet, the fact remains that you are upset, and six months later it's becoming harder and harder to pretend you aren't. You know he can tell, and that it's weighing on him, and you only wish you could just make it stop.
You know Saeran will always be his priority from now on — and that's the way it should be.
It just… doesn't feel like enough anymore to pretend like it isn't eating you up inside.
Your index finger hovers over the call button.
You can make this easier in the long run, right now.
Or you can endure just a little longer.
His face peers up at you from the screen, a goofy grin upon his face. You swallow, then bite your lip.
You press call.