Yoosung Kim stood outside the gate to his best friend Seven's bunker, frustratedly flipping through his Arabic to Japanese dictionary. He had spent ten minutes just trying to convince the gate to let Seven know there was a guest there. He was terrible at foreign languages, but he had to get in there. He brushed sweat and bleached-blonde hair from his face, forcing down his feeling of panic. He felt tears coming on, but he wasn't going to give into them, no matter how upset he was.

Then the gate opened, and Seven rushed out. His curly red locks were plastered against his head like he'd had his hood over it for days. His golden eyes had dark circles under them. And he still carried a travelling backpack over a black tactical jacket way too heavy for the warm afternoon weather. Yoosung knew he must've had a rough time away at work. Yet the redhead's eyes showed nothing but concern for his friend.

"Yoosung, I just got back and saw you on the camera looking like you were gonna cry! What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry! I mean, yes, everything 's fine, I'm just sorry to show up like this! When you said in the chat room you were on your way home a few hours ago, I thought you'd be back by now! So when you didn't answer…I thought I just wasn't saying the right things to your door…." The boy looked down and shuffled his feet in embarrassment. Seven's going to laugh at me, he thought miserably. But when he looked back up, it was to a relieved smile on Seven's face.

"Geez, I thought you were in trouble or something! So, um, why are you here then?"

Yoosung held up a bag full of Ph. D Pepper and Honey Buddha Chips. "You've been gone almost a month; I thought you could use a welcome home party!" He gave Seven his best cheery grin.

Seven paused, and then a grin crept onto his tired face. "All right, come on in!"

Yoosung waited patiently while Seven settled in. After all, the man had not seen his home in so long. Seven went to a "secret room" to unpack his bag. When Yoosung was first getting to know his eccentric friend, he would have assumed that's just the way Seven talked about his room to make conversation more entertaining for himself. But now Yoosung wondered. He had been concerned by Seven's job for a while. He made jokes about being a professional hacker, a "cockroach of the internet," and taking on dangerous missions to defend justice. What he described sounded like one of those dangerous spy jobs in movies. But those didn't really exist, right? But no one could deny that Seven was, in fact, a genius hacker. If such a job existed, he would be perfect for it.

That's why Yoosung was so concerned. If Seven really had a job like that, he was always in danger. Then his intense security system would make sense. And his habit of paying for everything in cash. And his habit of holding his friends at arm's length, giving them a smile that seemed just genuine enough to keep them from prying. Even though he joked about being lonely. Even though sometimes when Yoosung called him he could have sworn the other had been crying; his voice was so raw. There were painful secrets behind that smile; of that much Yoosung was sure. So he wanted to do whatever he could to ease Seven's burden, even if he was just a crybaby who couldn't hack or learn languages.

Seven came back out with his backpack and tactical jacket gone, leaving only his normal black and yellow hoodie over his shirt and jeans. He looked a little healthier too after washing his face and brushing his hair. He still must be tired though. And skinny. Yoosung began to wonder if he was able to eat properly when he went away for work. Oh hell, he didn't even eat properly when he was home. Yoosung scolded himself for not bringing over some real food. Seven joined Yoosung on the floor in front of the chips-and-soda-laden table and laid into a bag of chips with the look of a placated puppy.

Ugh, I would have had to force him to eat real food. And he gladly would have, no matter how much grumbling he had to put up with. Dude needed to take care of himself, seriously! But watching that smile of his made Yoosung relax. It was genuine. And such a nice sight…Wait. What the hell was that? His cheeks grew hot at that strange thought and he started on his own bag of chips.

They settled into normal chit-chat: LOLOL, RFA gossip, conspiracy theories about aliens that Yoosung never knew if Seven really believed or just liked to joke about. It was comfortable. Normal. Seven needed normal. Yoosung was happy to see Seven get normal. After a while, Seven removed his hoodie, and Yoosung gasped. There was a gash on his arm, shoddily wrapped in bandages full of dried blood.

"Seven, what happened to you?" The redhead looked at him in surprise before following his gaze to the wound. "Oops. Accident on my trip. Forgot all about it!" He smiled sheepishly. God damn it, Seven, take care of yourself a little more!

"We need to change those bandages! Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Ah, it's fine, I'll fix it up later!"

"No! You need to take care of this now! You're lucky it hasn't gotten infected yet! Now where's your first aid kit?" He got up and started upturning the cabinets. He knew Seven would rather cave than let him dig up whatever secrets he was hiding. And cave he did.

"Okay, you win. Stay there; I'll get it." He left the room and returned with a huge black toolbox. He plopped down and pushed the snacks aside to make room for it. Yoosung rejoined him at the table, surprised at what he saw. Bandages, packing gauze, sutures, needles, a scalpel? And the bottles. Was that intravenous anesthesia? It looked like stuff from the university's medical lab. Just what kind of injuries did Seven prepare himself for?

Seven grumpily pulled at his bandages, which were caked to his arm with dried blood. He didn't appear at first glance to be affected by the pain at all, but when Yoosung looked more closely, he saw the soft dents in the sides of Seven's face. He was biting the insides of his cheeks.

Yoosung got a bowl of warm water from the kitchen. He pulled gloves out of the toolbox and put them on. His friend looked at him quizzically. Yoosung reached for the arm. "Here. Let me help you."

"I can do it myself."

"You're going to re-open the wound."

"It's fine. I know what I'm doing." Yoosung's breath caught. How many times did Seven get hurt like this? Was his job really dangerous?

"Seven. P-please let me help." His voice was beginning to shake.

"I said I know what I'm doing! What makes you think I need your help!"

"I won't ask right now how you became an expert on treating wounds, but don't forget I'm in a medical program!" He took Seven's hand in both of his, causing those golden eyes to open wide in shock. "Now stop being so damn stubborn and let me help you!"

"Okay, fine." He gave Yoosung his arm and sulked while the boy gently coaxed away the bandages with warm water, disinfected the wound, and rebandaged it. It was a long, deep gash, and it looked like a clean cut. Yoosung's stomach tightened. Clean cuts were more consistent with blade attacks than accidents. Had Seven been trying to hide this? Was that why he didn't want Yoosung changing his bandages?

When he finished up, he gave Seven's arm a reassuring pat. "There, all done. And I added Vaseline so the bandages wouldn't stick again. But make sure to change them twice per day, okay?" He looked up at Seven, who was still sulking.

"Okay. Thanks, Yoosung. But you know, I could have done it myself."

"Of course you could have. But it would be easier if someone else did it for you, right?"

Silence. Then, "Why are you always trying to help me?"

"Because…I'm scared." Seven turned to look completely at him, his eyes wide and gentle. "You make jokes about having this lonely and dangerous job, you disappear and come back with giant bloody gashes, you lock yourself up in here all alone, you eat like shit, you don't take care of your wounds. You act like your life isn't important at all!" His voice started to crack as he continued. "And I keep trying to show you that your life is important; it's so important to me, but you put up this wall so my thoughts can never reach you! So I…I can't do anything!" Tears escaped his violet eyes, and he gritted his teeth and wiped his face on his shirt. He dared a glance at Seven, whose own eyes looked about to cry. He held his in though and patted Yoosung's head.

"Yoosung…you…do a lot for me. You feed me, nurse my wounds, and…you welcome me home with a bright smile. You also nag me…a lot!" He chuckled at the last bit. "But I know it's because you care. That's just how you are. It means a lot, really." Yoosung looked to his friend, who was smiling such a genuinely soft smile it made his heart skip a beat. He blushed awkwardly.

Seven must have felt awkward with all that sentimental talk too, so he decided to tease Yoosung. "Aw, look at that cute expression on your face, like a little cinnamon bun hehehe!"

Yoosung groaned and began to gather the medical trash to throw away. "Cut it out, Seven."

"I'm serious!" He exclaimed in sing-songy and decidedly not serious voice. "You're so cute! If you were a girl, I'd kiss you!" Now Yoosung's heart was pounding, and he could feel his face flush. Damn it, why did Seven always have to say weird stuff like that? And why did it have him feeling so weird?

"Geez, stop sexually harassing me! Besides, I thought you were bi?"

"Oh, I am! But last time I checked, you're not!" What in the world was he "checking" anyway? This conversation was getting weird. Yoosung settled back into his seat by the coffee table and threw a chip at his friend.

"Well, I'm glad to know you're feeling well enough to tease me, you jerk!" He threw another chip ah Seven, who tried and failed spectacularly to catch it in his mouth. Then they were both laughing and throwing chips at each other. Yoosung couldn't help but be overcome by the smile on his friend's face; it made him want to push all his concerns down and treasure this moment where he could smile so brightly.

Later, after they had exhausted themselves from their food fight and settled into cozy conversation, Yoosung still found himself basking in Seven's smile. It looked so different from his smiles most of the time, wide forced grins paired with dead eyes. His real smile was so…precious.

Once again, Yoosung's stomach was turning over with anxiety. What were these thoughts? Were they…was he…attracted to Seven? No, that couldn't be it! He was just thinking weird because Seven had teased him earlier, right? But…he did feel so warm when Seven smiled at him. And when he was hurt, Yoosung wanted to soothe away the pain. And when he wasn't taking care of himself, he wanted to nag or cry or whatever else it took to get him to. And when he looked at him with his kind eyes and genuinely thanked him for all he did, he wanted to reach up into that pretty red hair and….

Oh god I'm attracted to my best friend! What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?! There was no way Seven actually liked him. He just liked to tease him. Sure, he knew Seven was bi, but he also knew there was no way Seven would like a useless crybaby like himself. He didn't realize he had shrunk back and zoned out until he heard Seven shout.

"Oi! Earth to Yoosung! You good?" Oh god! Seven had abandoned his side of the table and was now sitting right next to him, looking into his eyes with concern. Yoosung blushed furiously. Damn it! "S-sorry…I was just thinking about something." He shifted awkwardly.

"What is it? You can tell God Seven!"

"Did you mean it?"

"Eh? Mean what?"

Yoosung took a deep breath. "When you said you'd kiss me if I was a girl."

Seven dropped the playful expression. Was he blushing? Crap I'm making things awkward! "Y-yeah. I meant it."

"Then…you…won't kiss me because I'm not a girl?" He looked down and tried to calm his trembling hands.

"Yoosung, I…thought you were straight."

"I thought I was too. But sometimes I'm not sure."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah. Like…like right now." He lowered his head, afraid to look into Seven's eyes and find that he was just teasing, that Yoosung had no chance of ever reaching him.

Instead, he felt Seven's warm hands gently cup his face. He looked up in shock as Seven leaned forward and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. His heart pounded and he felt like dancing for joy. When Seven pulled back, he looked nervous, as if he were afraid Yoosung wouldn't have wanted him to do what he just did. So your hacker job doesn't scare you, nor does getting cut open, but the idea of me not wanting to kiss you scares you? He wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but also cry at just what a similar fear he felt.

"Um, Seven?"

"Yeah?"

"I…don't think I'm straight."

He watched all Seven's anxiety melt away into a soft, kind smile. He pulled close, brushing Yoosung's hair out of his face and looking him in the eyes. He whispered gently, "That's fine. You can be not-straight with me," before leaning in to kiss him again.