An audio snippet from my Dongmae x Eugene fanfiction:
A plain hanbok. Short hair. No headdress. The goatee and mustache were gone, but Eugene knew that face like he knew his own reflection. The bucket slipped from Dong-mae’s hand, crashing to the ground.
He crossed the space in two strides and crushed him in a hug.
Dong-mae froze, stunned, arms hovering uselessly in the air like they’d forgotten how to move. American habits, he thought. Always too much, too fast. Still, something in his chest tightened as he slowly let his hands settle on the man’s shoulders.
“Easy, captain,” Dong-mae murmured.
“You’re alive?” Eugene breathed.
“Clearly,” he said, with a quiet laugh.
They stepped apart, but neither looked away.
“I could ask you the same.” Dong-mae smirked, soft and familiar.
They stood there a moment longer, eyes locked. In silence, they understood--fate had led them here, again.
By dusk, they shared a simple meal--rice and fish caught from the ravine, the warmth of the fire between them. Conversation flowed, slow and careful. Stories unfolded between bites, of rescue missions and near-death escapes, of the woman who’d orchestrated her own freedom.
“You survived the sword again,” Eugene said, raising a brow. “You’re tougher than you look.”
Dong-mae set his cup down, watching the firelight flicker across Eugene’s face. “Says the man who took bullets and fell off a train.”
Laughter softened the space between them.