Crash landing on You

4

Bin emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed, wearing only a pair of boxers and a long button-up shirt—Chan's, since he had no clothes of his own. Chan had told him he could borrow some.

With a towel draped over his shoulders, Bin gave his damp hair one last rub before casually tossing the towel onto a nearby table, feeling strangely at home in this unfamiliar space. As he stepped into the living room, the lights suddenly went out. A power outage, but Bin's heart raced, suspecting something else.

He glanced around, startled. "Great, just what I needed today," he muttered sarcastically under his breath, heading to the wired phone to dial Chan. No answer. He tried again, but still, nothing. Anxiety crept in as he scanned the dark, eerie surroundings—it felt like eyes were on him in this demon realm.

Setting down the phone, Bin hesitantly rummaged through a drawer, mumbling, "Where's that damn flashlight.."

A loud "thump" made him jump as the front gates creaked open, then shut. Bin's eyes went wide as he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching through the window. Someone was outside, footsteps echoing as they approached the front door. He pressed himself against the wall, fear gripping him.

The person at the door tried the handle but found it locked, thanks to Bin. Then they moved toward the back, and Bin's heart sank—there was no lock on the back door. In a panic, he grabbed a flower pot, standing beside the door, tears welling in his eyes.

He watched as the doorknob turned. A tear slipped down his cheek as he braced himself. His pulse pounded in his ears as the door creaked open.

It was Chan, holding a flashlight and a bag.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Chan asked, startled, seeing Bin poised to hurl the flower pot at him.

Bin blinked, lowering the pot, tears streaming down his face. "Why are you so late?" he stammered, his voice soft and shaky.

Chan blinked, confused, then held up the bag. "I bought you a candle.. You said you needed one to sleep and bathe." He offered the candle, and Bin sniffled, still holding the pot in front of him.

"Th-that's just a candle.. I wanted a scented one," Bin whimpered, his sobs growing louder.

Chan stood there, unsure what to do as Bin broke down in front of him. Gently, he took the flower pot from Bin's trembling hands, setting it aside. Bin wiped his tears, but they kept falling.

"I'm sorry.. I know you probably think I'm pathetic," Bin hiccupped through his sobs. "But I just can't handle what I'm going through right now.."

Despite his muscular frame, Chan saw the vulnerability in Bin's tear-streaked face. Hesitantly, he reached out, wrapping an arm around him and guiding him to sit in the living room.

Chan placed the bag on the counter and handed Bin some tissues. He knelt in front of him, gazing up as Bin dabbed at his face.

"Y-you know," Bin began, his voice still shaky, "I invested three billion dollars into something.. and I lost it all." His voice cracked, and he turned away, sobbing into the tissues. He suddenly remembered that moment, making him cry as he lost a ton of money.

Chan blinked, unsure how to respond. His eyes drifted to Bin's attire—his own shirt and a pair of boxers. He quickly averted his gaze but couldn't help but glance back at Bin's trembling form, and oh his soft, plump looking thighs. How could a mans thigh look so smooth, he wondered. 

"I'm even more frustrated than before.. Why am I even here?" Bin cried, his face flushed, eyes red and swollen from crying. "And why am I crying in front of a stranger?"