10. The Game

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Wooyoung was busy packing his bag. By his side, San checked his ammunition. They needed to go hunting today, make sure they had enough rations to last them to the cliffs. In a few days, Wooyoung would have a safe place to curl up in. Then he could figure out how to continue with his life.

Jongho hovered in his corner. He was shifty, constantly fumbling with his hands until Wooyoung's nerves were strung from how often he startled, thinking the other wielded a weapon. He hadn't attacked them during the night, and neither did he meddle with their stuff. By the time morning dawned, he lifted his bleary eyes from the cushion of his knees and blinked at them. Now, he overtook the corner with his nervosity. The storm had settled, but he had yet to leave.

When Wooyoung couldn't take his awkwardness anymore, he snapped his gaze up at him. Jongho flinched back. He was broad and a mighty scar split down his cheek and over the corner of his lips. In a one-on-one interaction, Wooyoung would think twice about robbing him. Now, however, the proclaimed mechanic looked like a spooked owl. He winced at Wooyoung's glare.

"Speak," Wooyoung grumbled, not up for jests today. Jongho hurried to nod.

"I was wondering which direction you were going into. If it's shelter you seek, you could stay with me. My place is spacious, and it has a door to seal. I never had animals or fouls in there," he babbled, lips moving so fast that his words blurred into each other.

Wooyoung shrugged his jacket over his shoulders and closed the buckles.

"We have other places to be," he replied curtly. He slung his bag across his chest and stood. The sand shaped the molds of their bodies, so he swished his boot to cover the trails. Not that they had to be hidden. But he didn't like the reminder that he cozied up to another man days after losing Yunho.

"You can come along as a team!" Jongho assured him at the wrong time. Wooyoung struck him with a devastating glare, making him shrink.

"We are no team," he bit out. "Shut up and trail along if you need travel protection, but we won't come with you."

Relief crossed Jongho's face at being tolerated, but he had to swallow his disappointment when they still didn't comply with whatever lunatic plan he brewed in his mind. Following him might as well mean getting locked inside that fancy hideout of his that had a door. Who knew what he was up to in there?

Wooyoung whipped around to demand San to hurry, only for his words to die in his throat. The raider had taken off his shirt to check on his bandages and though most of his torso was covered by the once-white fabric, slivers of his stomach peeked through. His left shoulder was bare to expose healthy skin, the other one was hidden along with the sickly arm. It seemed the fungus took over his entire right side.

Wooyoung snapped his gaze away. For the first time, he got a proper look at the muscles bulging under his skin, undeterred by bandages. San had an attractive build, lean yet powerful; so different from Yunho. Staring at him for even just a moment brought the heat to Wooyoung's cheeks.

Instead of getting dressed, San stood to interrupt their spat.

"A word, Death?"

Glad they still had the barricade of the false name, Wooyoung exhaled. He forced himself not to overreact as he followed San outside. They rounded the rocks to be out of earshot and San entrusted Jongho with the supervision of his equipment.

One would think being out would clear Wooyoung's airways, but the opposite was the case. Whenever his eyes strayed, they got stuck on San's small waist pinched by his black pants. He ripped them away time and time again.

San ran his fingers through his hair.

"You have an ugly double standard there. Inviting him to come along yet spitting at his feet as soon as he opens his mouth," San pointed out. Wooyoung crossed his arms, a barrier between them that covered the treachery of his hammering heart.

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