Archive of Our Own

“How’s work been, Matthew-ah?”

“Much of the same,” Matthew relays through the phone. “It’s been a bit too consistent lately. Sometimes I forget what day it is, it all feels the same.”

“I was thinking of stopping by one of these days,” Jiwoong says. “My brother’s getting married soon and I wanted to get him a nice vase for a bouquet. Do you guys sell vases at Craft Collective?”

The younger chuckles. “We sell everything at our store. We even have fake flower arrangements if you want to go that route.”

“That’s okay. Chrysanthemums are in season and they’re one of his favorites.”

“Understandable.”

From where Matthew stands at the stove, he pours about half of a box of pasta into the salted water in front of him. It took him some time to adjust to the gas stoves of his new apartment, having only ever had electric burners at his previous Cheonan apartment and also back home in Canada.

“How’s work been for you, hyung?” 

His friend releases a short sigh. “It’s been alright. I can’t complain.”

“Yes, you can. Isn’t that the whole point of this call? To talk to your friend about whatever is burdening you, hmm?”

“It’s not serious enough to be a burden,” Jiwoong laughs. “There just hasn’t been much to do in the office, so the days drag on.”

“You should talk to your boss about finding more work for you then.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

Just then, Matthew hears a tapping sound come from one of the windows in his living room. It’s the same sound he heard this morning, on the same window. He halts his cooking, swinging around to the source of noise. He sees nothing and nobody, just like he had this morning.

“Matthew? Are you still there?”

The younger shakes himself, speaking quickly. “Yeah, sorry, I’m still here.” He lowers his voice to barely above a whisper so he can listen out for the sound again. “Yah, Jiwoon-hyung. I keep hearing these tapping sounds at my window.”

“Tapping sounds?” the older wonders. “What kind of tapping sounds?”

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “Like, three knocks on the glass and then it goes away. I would think someone was playing a trick on me if I didn’t already look and see no one there.”

The older laughs at that. “Maybe you’re haunted then.”

What was likely said in jest is enough to spook him. Matthew’s voice turns up in pitch. “Haunted?”

There’s a pause. “I was just joking. You’re not haunted, Matthew-ah, you’re fine.”

Matthew can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not when the same incident has happened more than once.

He hates that he’s actually considering the other’s words. Sure, this is likely something very reasonable. It’s October now, which means a cool breeze has engulfed Cheonan. The tapping is probably the wind. Aren’t most things ‘just the wind’, anyway? Yeah, maybe it’s just that.

But it doesn’t sound like the wind– this Matthew knows. And how likely does the wind tap on the same window?

“Don’t tell me you’re seriously considering this–”

“I gotta go hyung. My pasta’s nearly done boiling. I’ll talk to you again soon.” Then he hangs up and the line cuts out.

Matthew goes through the sauce preparation in silence. He gathers his tomatoes and adds them to a pan with oil. Once the tomatoes are soft enough to crush with the back of his wooden spoon, he adds minced garlic, chopped basil, and salt and pepper. He covers this with a lid and sets a timer for twelve minutes.

The pasta is done boiling not long after that.

Above everything, Matthew’s elated to have left home two years ago with the ability to cook. He may be lacking in other departments but at least he can feed himself. His mother taught him well, letting him cook different kinds of banchan in the kitchen with her ever since he was a young age.

It’s been a little over five years since he moved to this city for university. He’d been to Cheonan many times before when he, his sister and their parents would visit their extended family, but he’s never stayed here for a long duration. Not until he made the big decision to move here all by himself.

Matthew didn’t have any friends prior to moving here. He’s grateful to have met Jiwoong at university, who then also introduced him to his other friend Gunwook.

He went to school for art, which may or may not be the reason he works full-time at the largest art supply shop in the city. It’s true that in the year he’s worked there that he’s loved almost every second of it. He finds great joy in helping fellow artists locate materials for their work, and he also works with really great people.

He plates his pasta and the fried chicken he bought on his commute home on the same plate. He hears his mother’s voice in the back of his head as he stares down at it — where’s the vegetable? — so he slices up two cucumbers and adds them to the corner of his plate where there’s open space.

Dinner is eaten in comfortable silence, so that he can listen out for more tapping on his window.

—

The next day at work Matthew buys a bunch of craft supplies.

Maybe he’s over reacting, but the call with Jiwoong last night had really shaken him up. He was up most of the night tossing and turning, not able to shake the lingering fear that someone was watching him. That he was, as his friend simply suggested, haunted. Matthew’s seen enough scary movies in his lifetime, and he may or may not already believe in ghosts.

He pours the contents of his purchase on the table, and out comes things like colorful feathers, yarn, various tubes of paint, googly eyes, and a brown clay pot the size of his hand.

As ridiculous as it may sound, Matthew has spent his shift brainstorming something he can make to scare away the ghost that thinks it’s so funny to tap on his window. Ghosts can be scared of such manmade creations, right? If so, Matthew will just have to assure it’s extra scary-looking then.

And Jiwoong, or any of his other friends for that matter, don’t need to know that this is how he will be spending his night, thank you very much.

He begins by squirting black and white paint on a paper plate. Because he’s an artist, he always has a plethora of paint brushes on hand. He grabs a medium-sized brush from the tableside, as well as a glass from the kitchen that he fills with water.

The black paint is what he uses to cover the outside and inside surfaces of the pot. Once that’s dry, he scatters dots with white paint all over. He got the idea from a spider he saw once that was black and had white spots on its back. He had jumped out of his skin at the time, so he can only hope that his creation can mimic that same fear he had felt for the ghost haunting him.

When the paint has fully dried, he gets up to retrieve the hot glue gun he keeps in his drawer. You never know when you’re going to need one of these things, and for a crafter like Matthew, it’s quite often.

He glues large googly eyes to the front and then glues down short lengths of colorful yarn to the top to mimic hair. He utilizes the feathers as a means of decoration, gluing them down wherever they feel right.

He holds it outward, admiring his creation, but can’t help but feel like something is off. It’s just not scary enough.

He squirts some dark pink on his plate to draw a squiggly mouth, then uses the residual white paint to paint teeth and downturned eyebrows. He squeezes a bit of red paint out to line some teeth with blood, and afterwards mixes the red paint with white so he can draw the tongue.

Then, and only then, does Matthew deem it finally frightening enough.

He sets it on some old newspaper on his window sill right in front of the window that’s been having the mysterious tapping sounds. The pot is facing face-first, just how he intended.

Now that he’s finished that and feels his stomach rumbling, he can fix himself something for dinner.

*

Matthew shoots up in bed in the middle of the night at the sound of a loud shattering sound coming from the kitchen.

He’s almost too frightened to make his presence known, unsure if it’s an intruder— or worse. Could the ghost that’s been haunting him have gotten inside somehow?

He walks into the kitchen warily with a metal wire hanger. It’s a bit pathetic, but it’s the best makeshift weapon he had on hand. “Hello?” he calls out. “Is anyone there?”

Then his eyes turn to the sight. A white, glass plate shattered on the floor in what looks like a thousand pieces.

It still doesn’t quench Matthew’s fear, however, so he makes his way around the apartment with the hanger still in hand as he fetches a broom and dustpan from his supply closet. It’s a good thing he walked out with slippers on, but he’s still careful with every step he takes.

“That damn ghost…” Matthew mutters to himself miserably.

At the mention of the ghost itself, almost as if it had heard Matthew’s very words, he hears that rhythmic tapping on his window yet again. It frightens him so much that he nearly drops his broomstick to the ground.

“I’m haunted!” Matthew screeches. He’s full confident now, feeling absolutely certain of his predicament for the first time since his suspicions began. “I truly am haunted!”

Matthew finishes sweeping up the glass in a hurry, wanting to get back to his bedroom as soon as possible. He uses a leftover paper bag from a takeout restaurant to store the broken glass, making a mental note to take it out tomorrow.

“I need to do something about the ghosts inside the apartment too,” he says once he’s back into the safe confines of his locked bedroom. Most of his art supplies are kept in other rooms, so he’ll have to makeshift something with whatever he has lying around.

He does a quick Naver search and learns that exorcisms are quite common in Korea. Not exactly what he had in mind, but alas, he can’t say he’s not intrigued.

Growing up in a relatively religious household, he had heard the term exorcism thrown a couple times in his life. There was also a crazy story that his friend, whose father is a pastor, told him once of an exorcism he’s performed. Times are different now that he’s in Korea and away from his friends from home, and he also certainly doesn’t know of any priests here.

Feeling truly frightened and a little bit out of his mind, Matthew snatches white paper from his desk and writes “Looking for an Exorcist! Please help!” in thick black marker. He then writes his KaKaoTalk horizontally ten times on the bottom, cutting vertical strips so that whoever is willing to help him knows who to contact when they take a slip.

He spends the rest of his night scrolling endlessly through his phone reading forums and articles, eventually finding a case where the death of a Korean woman in Los Angeles made the news back in the 1990s. The death was linked to an exorcism and Matthew finds himself diving deeper into the case.

The writer of the article wasn’t entirely sure what happened, just that her uncle was somehow involved and her mother and grandmother were left distraught. It’s what motivated her to travel to Korea, where she learned about Korean cult culture and mu-ism.

Korean mu-ism… that sounds vaguely familiar. He opens up a new tab and types the words into Naver.

It turns out that exorcisms in Korea are different from the exorcisms he’s familiar with in western culture. Korean mu-ism is its own religion and exorcisms are more like spiritual rituals where mudangs, also known as spiritual exorcists, call upon the ancient Korean Gods, rather than the Christian priests in North America that evict demons from individuals believed to be possessed.

Matthew continues to scroll until the sun rises and his alarm goes off with his phone still in his hands. He rolls over with a groan, ashamed to have completely lost track of time. He’ll regret it most of all when he’s struggling to get through work later.

He takes his time going through his morning routine, body feeling sluggish. Breakfast this morning is an iced latte, a piece of toast with butter and an apple that he plans to take on the road with him. 

With a few minutes left to spare before he has to leave, he calls up one of his friends.

“Hey hyung,” he says over the line. “Good morning.”

“Just the person I wanted to speak to,” Jiwoong says, sounding like he's already grinning. “You were worrying me the other night on the phone. I don’t have to pay you a visit, do I?”

Matthew lovingly rolls his eyes. He clutches his homemade flier firmer in his hand, “No, hyung, you don’t have to worry about me. I have it all figured out.”

A beat passes. “You have… what figured out, exactly?”

His voice is confident. “I’m looking for an exorcist to cleanse my apartment.”

“Oh,” the other says. “So I was right to worry about you.”

“It’s serious, hyung!” he pleads. “I owe it to you, for calling it to my attention. The window tapping hasn’t stopped and just a few hours ago a plate shattered on my kitchen floor out of nowhere.”

“It had to have been out of somewhere, no?”

Matthew shakes his head. He walks out the door with his iced latte in one hand and his flier and keys in the other. “Whatever, hyung. As crazy as it sounds, I made a flier that states I’m in search of an exorcist.” Just then, his neighbor, Taerae, walks out of his apartment, also looking to be en route somewhere. The sound of Matthew’s voice has for some reason stopped him in his tracks. “I’m going to hang it up at the bus stop so that a lot of people can see it. I’m desperate, hyung.”

He can feel his neighbor side-eyeing him as he walks by. Great, another person who thinks I’m crazy.

Jiwoong sighs. “Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

“It will,” Matthew reassures. “I was up half the night researching exorcisms after last night's scare. Do you know anything about Korean mu-ism?”

“Very little,” his friend says. Then he laughs, “It’s not very often I hear that phrase.”

“Me too. I was reading about this case from the 1990s. It was a case gone wrong though, so it was quite devastating.”

Matthew hears movement on the other end of the line. “Sorry to cut things short, but I just got to my stop on the train. I gotta run. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay hyung. Have a nice day at work.”

He’s not alone at the bus stop like he would have hoped, but he doesn’t pay any mind to the watching eyes. In a country that prioritizes public transportation, he would never be alone here. Hanging up this sign is too important to fret about being judged by people he only ever sees at the bus stop and nowhere else.

Work is work. He trudges through the day with sore feet and heavy eyelids, having a relatively peaceful day opening boxes and stocking the shelves with cute stationary things. It’s hard to hold himself back from buying the whole store when he’s on the job sometimes, but he manages.

When there’s an hour left in his shift, he’s called up front to assist with checkouts.

Dealing with customers on the register is probably his least favorite part about working in retail, but he can’t deny that working the front end makes his shift go by quicker.

“Sorry,” his coworker, Hanbin, mutters. “I know you’re restocking. The line just got really long.”

“That’s okay, hyung,” reassures Matthew, waving over the next customer. “Can I help who’s next?”

“Hello,” a woman who looks to be his age approaches the counter with a kind smile.

He rings up the boxes of command strips she’s brought to the counter. “Using these command strips for something special?” he wonders.

“Yes!” the woman gushes. “I’m hanging up canvases. Figured this would be better than hammering nails in the wall.”

“I agree,” he chuckles. “I’ve used these command strips in the past too. They’re really great.” He points at the register screen, “Your total is 8,000₩. Are you paying cash or card?”

“Card please.”

“You can tap on the chip reader below.”

Matthew wraps up the transaction and waves over the following person in line. He stares down at the tens of individual paint tubes she lays out on the counter with curiosity.

The woman chuckles. “It’s a lot, I know. I’ve recently started working with oil paints again.”

It feels safe to laugh now. “Normally I would tell you to buy a set because it’s cheaper but the individual tubes are on sale. What kind of things do you like to paint?”

He enjoys watching the customer blaze with excitement. “Oh, I love to paint city landscapes! I’m actually working on a piece right now of the Cheonan cityscape, but I’m running low on paint and need more.”

“That sounds lovely,” says Matthew. “Your total is 18,500₩. Are you paying with cash or card?”

“Card please.”

Matthew finishes taking customers until there’s no more customers waiting in line. He spends the remaining thirty minutes of his shift stocking shelves until it’s eventually time to clock out and go home.

The bus ride back home is consistent, in that it makes the same stops and he’s hopping off at 17:32 like he does everyday. There is a bit of a shock aspect, however. When he checks his flier, there’s already a slip taken off.

Looks like he should be expecting a call from someone in the next few days.

—

It’s shortly after he gets home from work the next day that the call finally comes through.

“Hello?” He says cautiously. “This is Seok Matthew.”

“Hey,” the voice says. “I saw your flier. You’re in need of an exorcist?”

Matthew releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Yes. For my apartment.”

“Sure thing.”

Call him crazy, but Matthew could swear he recognizes this voice. The deep, yet soft voice that speaks back to him, even in the few words he has spoken. He just can’t place it yet.

“When would you be available to come over?” Matthew questions. “Assuming you’re actually an exorcist and not some kind of murderer. Perhaps we should meet at a coffee shop first.”

“We’ve actually met before.”

His suspicions were correct. He holds his breath. “We have?”

“Yeah. We live in the same apartment complex.”

Matthew spends the next few moments racking his brain trying to figure out who it could possibly be. He hasn’t spoken to a lot of people in his complex and certainly hasn’t spoken to the same person more than once. He’s going to have to ask, putting on a brave front. “What’s your name, huh?”

“It’s Taerae. Kim Taerae.”

He releases a sigh of relief. Taerae, someone he’s barely spoken to before, but is the person he’s surprisingly spoken to the most. Matthew recalls their interaction clear as day: a piece of Taerae’s mail had been in Matthew’s mail slot by mistake. He had made the decision to deliver it to him personally, rather than just stick it in his mail slot, just in case the piece of mail required immediate attention.

It totally wasn’t because he was lonely and wanted to try to build a connection with someone who lived so close by.

The other had been sweet when he opened the door. A bit awkward and shy, but kind nonetheless.

“Taerae?” Matthew says. “You– why don’t you just come over? Are you available now?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, followed by some ruffling on his end. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll be over soon.”

Matthew hangs up first, letting the other’s words hang in there. He sits back against the couch cushion and stares up at the ceiling with a smile on his face. “What a relief,” he says. “Someone that I know.”

Unprompted, the same tapping noise sounds against his living room window. He’s learned to live with the sound at this point, not even flinching anymore. There’s nothing he can do about it— that’s what he’s hiring an exorcist for.

There’s a knock on his door five minutes later, as promised.

“Hey.” Matthew opens the door wider. “Please come in.”

Taerae settles his bag down on the tea table. “So, uh. What seems to be the problem?”

It only just strikes Matthew that he’s never detailed his problem yet. “My apartment is haunted. I hear frequent tapping on my window, the same window, everyday. Also, in the middle of the night last night, a plate shattered on the floor.”

Taerae’s silent for a moment, soaking in the information. “Is that all?”

Matthew narrows his brows. “Is that not telling enough for you? What, do I have to start hearing the ghosts speak to me to officially declare I’m haunted? I was hoping it wouldn’t have to get to that point.”

There’s a pause, the exorcist taking a seat on the couch. “How old are you?”

He doesn’t know why that’s relevant at the current time but he doesn’t hold back.  “I’m twenty-five. Born in 2002.”

“What month?”

“May. The 28th of May.”

“Ah, so you’re the hyung. Well, hyung, it seems as if I’ve offended you.” Taerae bows in apology. “That was not my intention. I think window tapping and glass shattering are fair enough reasons to inquire about an exorcist. I’d be happy to provide my services.”

Matthew’s taken back by the other’s polite nature. He almost feels guilty for coming on so defensively — he hardly knows this guy! He levels with the younger by taking a seat next to him on the couch.

“Thank you,” he says sheepishly. “Do I have to do anything or is this more like–”

“You don’t have to do anything.” The younger reaches for his bag and pulls out a bag of dried flowers. “Since this is the first session, I figured I’d start small. I brought dried flowers to cleanse the areas of concern. Where in the house are you most worried about?”

Matthew notices that even though the other speaks confidently, there is still visible nervousness when he speaks.

He stands up and walks to the window, pointing a long finger in its direction. “This is where I hear the tapping, and then the plate shattered in the kitchen. Like, by the sink area.”

“Alright. Let me get to work then.”

Taerae mumbles words under his breath as he sprinkles the flowers around. Matthew doesn’t understand the words the other is saying, maybe a word here and there, but not enough to piece anything together. His movement is akin to dancing, the way he gracefully leaps about with his arms stretched out. The older watches on in awe.

Then, suddenly, he comes to a stop, suppressing a shriek behind an open hand. “Matthew. What the hell is this?!” He turns to the older with widened eyes, holding his clay pot craft in his hand. 

Matthew has to stifle his laughter. I guess it is scary enough. “That’s a pot I painted to help scare the ghosts outside away.”

“And it works?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah,” Taerae places the pot back on the window sill. “I thought so.”

The ritual picks back up and comes to a close a few minutes later. Taerae finishes with a silent prayer and his hands clasped together.

He’s silent as he seals his bag of flowers shut and sticks them back into his shoulder bag. He smiles at the older, “Keep the dried flowers in the troublesome areas for up to forty-eight hours. Don’t keep them any longer. It may bring bad luck.”

“May bring bad luck?”

“Yes. I suppose that’s how long the mudangs who performed these rituals thousands of years ago kept the flowers before disposing of them,” Taerae explains. “I just tell it as I’ve learned it.”

“So you went to school for this?”

“Yes, yes.”

Matthew feels more at ease now that the other has cleansed things— safer, less in harm’s way. He wants to repay the other, his gratitude flowing through him. “Thank you so much, Taerae. How can I repay you? Would you like some water? Some chocolate? I have leftovers from dinner–”

“Not needed,” Taerae places a hand on top of his. Matthew freezes, silently elated as he feels the warmth of the younger’s hand seep into his own. “By the way. The exorcism rituals have to be completed over the course of multiple sessions to work.”

“Right, right. Of course,” Matthew nods along. In this state of bliss he finds himself in, he thinks he would agree with anything anyone told him. “I don’t know the next time I’ll need you, but I have your contact information now. Do you want me to wire you the payment or do you prefer it in cash?”

Taerae grins. “Cash will suffice.”

The older takes out four 5,000₩ bills out of his wallet and hands them off. “Here you go. 20,000₩.”

“Thank you very much.” Taerae stands up and collects his things. “Are you available on Friday next week?”

“Yes, that works for me. I’ll see you next week then.”

—

A couple nights later Matthew wakes up to the sound of pounding on his front door. He clutches his blankets tighter, pulling them halfway over his face.

Half asleep and unsure if he’s still dreaming, he convinces himself that it’s a ghost here to collect him. When the banging persists he comes to and realizes there’s an actual someone knocking on his door. He begrudgingly pulls himself up from his warm bed and makes his way along the cold wooden floor.

He looks through the peephole and sees it’s his landlord.

“Hello,” he says groggily. “How can I help you, ju-in-nim?”

“Sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night,” says the older man. “The license plate on your vehicle is 141-9023, right?”

Matthew registers the information the best that he can at 3:00 in the morning. “Yes. That’s me.”

The landlord clears his throat. “You have to move your car out of the street. If you leave it there, it will be towed by the morning.”

“Towed?” he shrieks. All at once, he regrets taking the midnight joy ride a couple hours ago. “But there’s no more spots in the lot!”

“That’s not my problem, son. You have to figure it out.”

Matthew humphs, already pulling his coat off the coat rack. “Understood. Thank you, ju-in-nim. I will move it right away.”

The outside air is crisp with a bit of wind, just how he likes it. He envies the sun that’s still sound asleep, just like he resents the auburn leaves that lay peacefully in small, neat piles on the grass. The cold air wakes him quickly, soon not even feeling his tiredness once he’s nearly made it to his car.

Crash.

His head turns towards the sound, and the hairs on his arms raise tall. What could that possibly have been at this time of night? Yeah, there are people out at all hours of the night, but this isn’t the kind of sound you would regularly hear in the middle of the night. It sounded akin to large pieces of metal falling on concrete – something out of a horror movie for sure.

Whatever it may be, it’s got Matthew running the remaining distance to his car.

The air feels chillier now that he’s frightened. He locks his car doors immediately, already feeling much safer, and pulls out of the spot he took in front of the auto parts shop.

He drives over to the lot designated for the complex and sees it’s still very much full. There’s also no available reserved spots in the street for parking in front of the complex.

Quickly, Matthew realizes he has to make a decision. How often does he drive his car? Maybe a couple times a month for late night rides and to visit family – he relies heavily on public transportation mostly. So, what if he parked in a lot a couple blocks away instead? As long as there’s no signs that state he’s not permitted to do so and he doesn’t have to pay.

So he does just that. Four blocks away, he finds a mostly empty lot and takes the spot nearest to the gate.

The only problem now is that he has to make the trek all the way back to his apartment on foot.

Alone. When it’s still very much dark outside.

It’s a bit of a fast walk that he adopts. He’s watching his surroundings with every step he takes, head swiveling right, left, and behind like a snake.

Thankfully nothing else strange happens and he makes it through the lobby doors in one piece. It’s not until he makes it safely through the door of his apartment does he finally relax, back slamming against the closed door and letting out a sigh of relief.

—

Despite his scare from a few nights ago, things at home have been going otherwise smoothly. Matthew hasn’t heard the tapping sounds on his window nearly as much as he had when they first started, and he owes it all to Taerae. Taerae, the man who worked his magic and blessed his home.

He’s been meaning to call the younger and thank him for his services, even though he has thanked him plenty already. The days until his next scheduled visit can’t come soon enough. Above all of the services that Taerae the exorcist can provide, Matthew finds himself fascinated with the other in a different way. Whether it be because of their proximity or whatever else, Taerae is all he’s been thinking about when he comes home each evening to his empty apartment.

One might call him lonely; he certainly wouldn’t argue that. Matthew would proudly admit that he walks past Taerae’s door and smiles to himself every time. Or that he sits on his couch at night watching reruns of old kdramas, feeling the weight of Taerae’s hand on top of his while doing so.

It’s all of this longing, all of this yearning, that has him messaging Taerae on Wednesday evening after work.

[Matthew]

hey taerae!

this is kind of short notice but do you think you’d be able to come over tonight

He pauses, only just now realizing he needs an actual reason for Taerae to come over. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, and he’s already sent the first few messages and can’t unsend them.

Before he can think of a reason, a message comes through.

[Taerae]

hey hyung~

sure, i can come over

may i ask what happened this time?

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Think, Matthew. Think, think, think.”

It wouldn’t make sense for him to mention the incident that happened when he was moving his car. Aside from the tapping, his apartment has remained the same.

If he wants the other’s company, he’s going to come up with a lie.

[Matthew]

the tapping sound has gotten worse

i’m even hearing it at my kitchen window now too

[Taerae]

oh my goodness

alright, alright

would you want me to come over tonight?

Matthew smiles to himself.

[Matthew]

yeah, that would be great

[Taerae]

i’ll come over when i get home. should be in like an hour

So he waits. He prepares a quick dinner and watches the clock with bated breath. Perhaps it’s a little ridiculous, how desperately he craves the other after just a short time apart, but nothing can replace how safe he felt after he came over the first time.

And maybe, just maybe, the butterflies he feels in his stomach are enough to justify lying to the other.

“Hello,” Taerae grins upon stepping into his apartment. He carries a paper bag in his hand with the words Chicken Deluxe written on the side.

Matthew’s flattered by the gesture. “Thank you, but I already ate.”

“The food’s not for you.”

Now he feels bad. “Oh. You didn’t have to rush here after work. You could have just eaten first and then came by–”

“No, no. I meant it’s for the Gods.”

Food for the Gods. Now that sounds similar to what he had been reading about that one night he went down a rabbit hole.

“Oh, right. For the Gods.”

Taerae nods, settling the bag of food on the ground. “Yeah. When I was researching— I mean, when I studied at university, I learned that setting out food and drink for the Gods and entertaining them was part of the common exorcism ritual. So I brought doenjang-jjigae and kimchi.”

“Why didn’t we do this last time?”

The younger shrugs. “You said the tapping sounds have gotten worse. I figured you needed something stronger than dried flowers.”

Matthew can’t argue with that. “What kind of drink should I prepare then?”

“Uh. Do you have any wine or spirit?”

“Nope.”

“Then you can just brew tea. Bring the pot over with three empty cups and two soup bowls when it’s done.”

Matthew feels safer already, even from where he stands in the kitchen and the other in the living room area. Just having the other in his apartment is enough.

It dawns on him just then that he doesn’t know a single thing about the other, aside from knowing he’s younger than him and that he’s an exorcist. Now that Taerae is here and they both seemingly have plenty of time on their hands, Matthew makes a promise to himself to get to know the other more after the ritual.

The tea doesn’t take long to brew. He carries three matching teacups that he had at one time purchased in a set of four, as well as a porcelain teapot, on a long wooden plate in one hand and the two bowls in his other. He sets it all on the floor next to the food that’s already laid out, then takes a seat on the floor beside the other.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew asks. The younger seems lost, sitting on his knees with his eyes closed.

“Nothing,” Taerae says quietly. “I’m just waiting.”

He’s not following. “For what?”

“The right moment. I think now is a good time to start.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” says Matthew. He’s feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “Please explain to me what’s going on first. You had said the Gods enjoy entertainment. So, what, are we going to sing and dance for them?”

“Some exorcisms are performed that way, yes,” Taerae explains. “I’ve done them like that in the past too, but there are different ways to entertain them. Tonight I will tell the Gods stories.”

Now that he’s in a safe space, he can’t help but let his emotions get the best of him.

“Can we talk for a second first?” he wonders anxiously. Memories of the other night come flooding back to him, not having realized he was still bothered until placed in such a safe space. He doesn’t know much about Taerae, but because the younger has been nothing but kind to him, something inside of him has a strong feeling that his worries will be met with reassurance.  “I think that maybe… maybe I’m the problem. I think I’m the one who is haunted, not my apartment.”

“Oh?” Taerae perks up. “Did something else happen?”

Matthew nods. “I hadn’t mentioned it before but when I was outside a few nights ago, late in the night, I heard this really loud crash. I was running for my life, and it was just so eerie and quiet.” He exhales, having said everything in a single breath. “I couldn’t help but feel like I was being followed the whole time.”

His heart melts when the younger places a hand over his own. He’s immediately comforted by the action, just like he was when he held it the first time.

Taerae offers him a small smile, “That must have been really scary. I’m sorry that happened to you, hyung.”

“Thank you.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re haunted. I hope that this ritual can help you feel more at ease and shake away whatever seems to be lingering around you.” Taerae squeezes his hand in solace. “If it’s okay with you, we will begin now. You can pour the tea.”

“Right, okay.” Matthew leans forward and pours the tea in each cup. He watches as Taerae pours the stew into the bowls and uses chopsticks to place a hearty amount of kimchi on top of each ration.

Taerae then mutters a string of sentences to himself. He’s closed his eyes once again and now both of his hands are resting on his knees. Just like last time, he tries to interpret what the younger is saying. He picks out a few words from his dialogue, but it’s not enough to completely understand the meaning.

“What are you reciting?” he asks, curious.

There’s a pause before the younger answers. “It’s Old Korean,” he says. “Save any questions for the end, please.”

Taerae finishes what Matthew can only assume is some kind of prayer before he opens his eyes and rises to his feet. From here on out it becomes completely theatrical once he settles into position— he takes short steps with a strong purpose and clasps his hands together over his chest.

“One time, many autumns ago, when it was time for the leaves to change from green to brown, the leaves turned bright blue instead. It brought much confusion over the town.” Taerae chuckles, “Many believed that there was something wrong, but upon further inspection, it was discovered that the blue leaves were special.”

“Special…” Matthew repeats quietly to himself.

“The leaves were medicinal and held many health benefits,” the younger continues. “But, because of this, the town went wild with greed. Everyone wanted a part of this new-found secret for themselves, and larger businesses wanted the most. All of the leaves were forcefully shed from the trees before they were due to fall off the branches, which lead to a curse cast upon the entire town for the month of winter.”

Matthew gasps, shocked, but holds his questions.

“That winter was a treacherous one. The air was bitter cold, cold enough to freeze your fingers in minutes, and there were heavy blizzards that blanketed the streets. Transportation was difficult and many people fell ill with sicknesses like hypothermia and pneumonia. The medicinal leaves could only help so much.”

Matthew doesn’t know what kind of story to expect when Taerae said he was going to tell a story, but it certainly wasn’t anything like this. He didn’t expect a story that was going to rip his heart out of his beating chest.

He can’t help but ask, “Then what happened?”

“Well, the citizens were only cursed for the winter. Those who survived were relieved to witness a warm spring, vowing to never let their greed get the better of them again.” Taerae finishes with a clap of his hands and takes the seat beside the older once more.

Taerae picks up the tea cup, motioning for the other to do the same. “We drink in remembrance of these people. Thank you.”

Matthew notices that the third cup remains untouched, just like the younger had said it would. He wonders when and if they will get to eat the stew.

The younger mutters a few final words, then turns to smile at Matthew, who is nothing short of speechless. He’s horrified and confused when he sees the others smiling face, wondering how one can smile after such a miserable story.

He can only hope, “That wasn’t a true story was it?”

Much to his relief, the younger shakes his head. “No. It was loosely based on a dream I had once, where the leaves turned blue. Everything else after that I came up with on my own.”

His grief is quickly replaced with admiration. “You’re brilliant then! That was flawless!”

Taerae smiles, gracious. “I am pretty good at what I do, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Matthew says with certainty. He remembers the promise he made to himself in the kitchen. “Hey, I was meaning to ask you this before. Did you grow up in Cheonan?”

The younger picks up one of the soup bowls, as well as a pair of chopsticks. “Born and raised in Cheonan. Never lived anywhere else.” He points to the second bowl still on the floor, “Help yourself, if you’d like.”

Matthew doesn’t have much of an appetite but picks up the bowl anyway. “Thank you.”

“I assume you weren’t born here. Given that your name is Matthew,” grins Taerae. “Where are you from?”

“My parents are from Cheonan but my sister and I were born in Canada,” the older says. “I still have family here, but the three of them are still back in Canada.”

“I also have a sister,” says Taerae. “Are you the youngest?”

Matthew laughs. “I am the youngest. I guess it’s not hard to tell.”

“I’m also the younger sibling,” Taerae explains. “But it was mostly a lucky guess.”

The two of them finish off their soup and tea, occasionally sharing sentiments here and there, before the older runs off to grab his wallet.

“20,000₩,” he says, handing off a crisp bill. “Thank you for your services. Will you still be coming over on Friday?”

Taerae pockets the cash, standing up. “If you would like me to, then I will.”

He doesn’t even need to take the time to think it over. He already made up his mind since the younger first walked through the door today. “Yes. That would be wonderful.”

—

The following night, Matthew hosts friends at his apartment.

He can’t remember the last time he’s had Jiwoong and Gunwook over to his apartment, which is precisely why he’s invited them over in the first place. After the stressful two weeks he has had, he’s due for some time in the comforting presence of his dear friends.

They sit together on the couch, wrapped up in blankets after just finishing a movie.

“What a twist,” comments Gunwook. “I was not expecting that ending.”

Jiwoong hums in agreement. “Yeah. They’ll probably make a sequel. They can not just leave it off there, there’s so much more the audience still has to know!”

“They’ve already announced that they’re making a sequel,” Matthew chimes in. “I’m craving something sweet. Would anyone like some iced tea?”

“Yes please,” his two friends say at once.

By the time Matthew comes back to the living room with three glasses filled, he notices that the youngest is sitting up with concern on his face that he didn’t have before.

“Matthew-ah,” Jiwoong says. “Please update me on the um… exorcist situation? I’ve been dying to follow up with you about it.”

“Hyung was telling me about it while you were gone,” adds the youngest. “What the hell has been going on?”

Matthew rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. Everything is under control now.”

“May I ask who this exorcist is?” Jiwoong pushes. “What have they been doing?”

“He’s someone who lives in my complex.”

The two friends exchange glances with each other. “So it’s… someone you know?” Gunwook wonders.

“Yes. He’s come over twice to cleanse the apartment and entertain the Gods, and he’s coming over again tomorrow after work.”

“Okay, and have any of these things been working?”

“Yes!”

“How?”

Matthew takes a second to reflect. “The tapping on my window has gotten less frequent. I also feel very comforted when he’s here and there’s a warmness in my chest.”

The oldest stifles his laughter. “Seok Matthew. Are you sure it’s actually helping or are you just in love with this guy?”

He groans, falling back onto the cushion behind him. “What he does is actually helping— although, I must admit that he’s really cute — but it’s mostly because he’s been doing a great job! Come on!”

Jiwoong throws his hands up in defense. “As long as you’ve been feeling safer, that’s all I care about.”

“Who is this guy anyway?” asks Gunwook.

“His name is Kim Taerae. He lives next door.”

The oldest raises a brow. “The guy who lives next door just so conveniently happens to be an exorcist, huh?”

Matthew nods. “That’s correct.”

Jiwoong claps his hands. “Alright, well I think I’m going to get going because I have work early tomorrow.”

Gunwook yawns. “Yeah, me too.”

“Thank you guys for coming over!” Matthew gushes. “We should do this again some time.”

After seeing his friends out, he brings the empty glasses to the sink. When he turns on the sink to rinse the glasses, however, he sees something that has him jumping out of his skin.

The water at the sink is running black.

“No,” he gasps, catching himself on the edge of his counter. “No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening!”

He makes a run for his phone and dials someone he knows can help.

“Hello?”

“Taerae-yah,” he calls through the line. He’s a bit short of breath in his panicked state. “There’s something wrong with the water in my apartment. It’s running black!”

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes. Please, hurry. I’m really scared.”

“Try to stay calm, hyung, it’s okay. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

While he waits, Matthew runs to the bathroom to check and see if he’s having the same problem there. He’s horrified when he turns on the knob on the shower and black water streams down, covering the bottom of the tub with black, filthy water. It’s the same problem when he approaches the sink.

Just when he thought things were improving in his apartment, he suddenly has the floor swept out from beneath him.

But it raises a larger question, that just sort of passes through Matthew’s head without giving it any further thought: if Taerae was just here last night, shouldn’t the ritual have prevented this?

He hides in his bed under the duvet, away from all the madness, until he hears a knock on his door.

Matthew opens the door hugging a stuffed monkey to his chest. “Hey.”

Taerae’s eyes soften when he sees him. “Aw, hyung. Don’t worry, I’m here now.”

The older pouts. “Can I have a hug?”

The plushie falls to the floor to make room for Taerae, and Matthew relishes in the feeling of the younger’s arms around him. Taerae seems to be wearing some kind of cologne, the sweet notes of vanilla filling his senses. He also notes that the other’s heartbeat is beating quite rapidly.

“Did you run here or something?” questions Matthew.

Taerae, cheeks pink and tips of his ears tinted red, just nods. “Yeah.”

They stay like that for a while, Matthew ultimately being the one to pull away. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“I’ll work my magic. Has it affected all of the drains?”

“Yeah. I think there’s ghosts in my pipes or something.”

The younger nods. “Alright. You can wait in the living room if you’re still scared.”

“Gladly.”

Just like every ritual, Matthew hears the quiet murmurs of Taerae in the kitchen, all the way from where he sits on the couch. He also hears the faucet running, and he can only hope that whatever the other is saying can fix the pressing issue.

A couple minutes pass before Taerae announces his fortune. “I think the water out here is okay. Let me go check the ones in the bathroom.”

Matthew stands up in disbelief, walking over to the running kitchen sink. It’s true, the water is coming out clear now.

“No way!” he cheers. “Taerae-yah, you’re amazing!”

He catches up to the other and finds him rubbing a hand over the head of the bathroom sink, saying his quiet prayers once again. He’s silent as he stands in the doorway, not wanting to disturb the other’s work.

A full minute of the younger’s efforts goes by before the color of the water changes color in front of Matthew’s very eyes.

“Wow,” is all Matthew can manage to say. “That was really impressive.”

He almost can’t believe it, he’s so amazed. He remains speechless as he watches the other stand up straight and offer him a smile. It has Matthew lunging forward and throwing himself in Taerae’s arms, grateful beyond belief for the other’s help.

Taerae, who’s come over twice now because his own anxiety has gotten the better of him.

“Thank you so much, Taerae-yah,” he says, muffled into the younger’s shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” the younger chuckles, rubbing his back comfortingly. “You don’t have to pay me this time.”

“Are you sure?”

The younger nods. “You called me for a specific issue, unplanned and scared out of your mind. Taking payment for this feels wrong.”

Matthew swoons at the other’s words. “Thanks.” Then he remembers something. “Are you still going to come over tomorrow?”

“If you want me to, sure.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Even if not for a ritual… maybe we can just hang out or something?”

He can hear the smile in Taerae’s voice. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Matthew holds on to the other a little tighter. “Can we stay like this a little bit longer?”

Now Taerae laughs. “We can stay like this however long you’d like.”

—

Not only does Matthew shine in the kitchen when he’s making meals for himself, but he also has a great hand in baking. It’s a skill he had picked up during the pandemic and has been utilizing whenever he can ever since.

Taerae coming over for a movie is a perfect reason to do so. He’s already texted the younger to bring over takeout from a restaurant of his choice, so now they truly have the best evening planned.

As soon as he gets home from work he’s jumping into action. He preheats his oven to 190°C and afterwards gathers all of the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies and lines them up on the counter, separated by wet and dry.

He begins by mixing his dry ingredients in a bowl, then grabs another bowl to cream together the butter with the white and brown sugars. Once it’s incorporated, he cracks in the eggs and spoons in his vanilla, then gives it a good mix. He adds his dry ingredients to the mixture and mixes everything together with a whisk, before he adds lots of chocolate chunks.

He uses a cookie scooper to evenly distribute his cookie dough on a tray lined with parchment paper, then sets them on the top rack where they will cook for nine minutes. No more no less, for the soft and gooey texture he loves, and hopefully Taerae will love all the same.

Yesterday evening with his friends has made Matthew realize that he really likes Taerae. It’s apparent that Matthew feels safer when the other is around, and because of all of his help, he can continue feeling safe even when he leaves. He hopes that once his apartment is no longer haunted he can continue staying close to the younger.

Taerae knocks on his door just as he takes the cookies out of the oven.

“Hey,” Matthew beams when he opens the door. His eyes are drawn to the other’s striped sweater, which looks soft and cozy. “That’s a cool sweater. You look great.”

“You look great yourself,” Taerae says, stepping into his apartment. He slips his shoes off and places his bag down. “Are those cookies I smell?”

Matthew’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. “They are! I hope you like chocolate chip.”

“They’re actually my favorite.”

“Good. They just came out of the oven so it’s the best time to eat’em.”

“And spoil our appetite? I bought us the finest kimbap in Cheonan!”

Matthew scoffs. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

After they’ve set the food down at the tea table in the living room, they both walk into the kitchen and have a cookie. Taerae actually has three, and Matthew is the happiest he thinks he’s ever felt watching him take every bite.

“I was thinking we could watch an episode or two from a rom-com drama,” the older says once they’ve made their way to the couch. “I watched a thriller the other day and am in the mood for something more easy-going tonight.”

“Fine with me,” Taerae grins. “Which drama?”

“How does 100 Days My Prince sound?”

Taerae squeals. “Oh! A classic! What a good choice.”

The younger plates their kimbap as Matthew gets everything else together. He gets the drama set up, turns off the lights, grabs a few extra cushions, as well as a large blanket for sharing.

“Before we hit play,” Taerae says. “You have to try each flavor of kimbap. I got you three different ones.”

Matthew takes his time chewing through each of the three flavors, really savoring the exquisite taste, before he puts his chopsticks down. The first thing he says is an obvious truth, “This is the best kimbap I’ve ever eaten in Cheonan.”

“Right?” the younger shrieks in excitement. “Take it from me. I’ve eaten a lot of kimbap in this city during my lifetime. Which one is your favorite?”

“Hmm… I love a classic. Definitely mayak.”

“That would be my second choice. I like chamchi too much.”

Matthew gets comfortable against the cushions. “If you’re all ready to start I’ll hit play now.”

“Yup, I’m all set.”

No matter how hard Matthew tries, he can’t ignore the fact that he’s sharing a blanket and watching a k-drama with Taerae. It’s about thirty minutes into the first episode and it’s still all Matthew can think about, as pathetic as it sounds. He’s struggling to pay attention because all he can focus on is how warm Taerae’s thigh feels against his. He steals continuous glances of the younger from the corner of his eye, having yet gone unnoticed.

It’s five minutes later that the tables turn and he feels Taerae’s eyes on him.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

Taerae just shakes his head with a smile on his face. He turns his attention back to the screen. “Nothing.”

Matthew squirms where he’s sitting, accidentally shifting his knee so it’s now overlapping with the others. He panics, eyes darting towards the other, whose eyes are already on him. Neither of them say anything, but when Taerae places a hand on the older’s thigh, Matthew just about melts right then and there.

“Taerae–”

“Do you feel it too?” wonders the younger. “This spark between us?”

Matthew’s breathless. He basks in the quiet moment of staring at Taerae, now with his full attention rather than just stealing glances at him. The room is dark but the television shines on him like a spotlight, illuminating the one thing in the room that he truly cares about. The television light also makes the younger’s eyes shimmer gorgeously.

Taerae reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. “Matthew-ah?”

It shakes him from his daze. “I do,” he breathes. “I feel the spark between us.”

He’s out of breath again, now that he’s finally spoken the words out loud. He waits for Taerae to speak first.

Taerae pulls the blanket off of his lap. “Come here then.”

The older tilts his head in confusion. “Come… where?”

Taerae tightens his grip on his hand and guides Matthew forward, and all Matthew can do is gasp as he’s twisted around to straddle the younger. Despite the sudden action, Taerae is all but gentle as he wraps his arms around Matthew’s lower back and pulls him closer.

“Taerae-yah–”

The younger presses a finger to the older’s lips. “You talk too much.”

Matthew takes a deep breath. “So it’s– this is okay?”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, hyung-ah.”

So just like that, Matthew leans down and presses their lips together. He sure feels that spark between them, now igniting him like a hot flame as soon as their lips collide. He moans, low in his throat, hardly balancing himself with the two hands he has on Taerae’s shoulders.

Matthew feels the other’s passion just from the way he kisses him back, but he can’t help but feel like there’s something… missing.

He opens his eyes in the midst of it all and pulls away in haste, stunned, when he sees a tear rolling down the younger’s cheek.

“Taerae-yah,” he pants. “What’s wrong?”

The younger looks down at his lap, almost in some sort of shame. “I’m so sorry.”

Matthew’s stomach drops. This certainly isn’t what he wanted to hear after kissing the boy of his dreams. “For what?”

Taerae holds his face in his hands, pressing himself forward against Matthew’s chest. “I’m… I’m not an exorcist.”

Maybe he didn’t hear that right. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m not a real exorcist!” he bursts, throwing his hands on the couch at either side. He sniffs, letting another tear roll down his face. “I’m not a real exorcist,” he repeats, more quietly this time.

That doesn’t clear any of Matthew’s confusion. In fact, it makes him even more confused. “But – but you did all of those rituals.”

“I watched some videos about it,” the younger admits in defeat. “I didn’t go to university for this. It was all my own research.”

“But the rituals were helping–”

“There was never anything actually wrong with your apartment.” Taerae wipes at his face.

Matthew falls from Taerae’s lap onto the cushion where he was first seated. He feels a bit sad, undeniably, but there’s something inside of him that feels for the other.

But more than anything else, he wants answers.

“How?” he wonders. “How did you fix things then?”

“I investigated the tapping sounds the day after I first came here. There’s a bush outside that taps against the window when it’s windy. The plate crashing on the floor in the night was a coincidence, it probably fell out of your dish drain. The water running black was likely a fluke with the pipes. They act up sometimes.”

Matthew frowns. So it had been the wind, after all. “How can you explain turning the water back to normal?”

The younger laughs miserably. “I let the water run for a while and was praying the whole time.”

There’s still one thing that doesn’t add up. “What about that loud crashing sound outside that I told you about?”

“We live close to an auto parts shop,” Taerae shrugs. “Mechanics are working there all through the night. They must have just dropped something.”

So that’s how it was all along. Since the beginning, everything has been so damn calculated. He was so grateful for the other that he hadn’t even taken the time to really think things through, let alone find plausible reasons for anything.

“I’m a fraud,” says the younger. “I grew up in a religious family, but I didn’t know anything about mu-ism prior to contacting you. I’m so sorry.”

And yet, Matthew can’t find it in himself to be truly upset with the other.

Perhaps his feelings run deeper than he thought.

His voice is steady. “Why did you do all of this, Taerae-yah?”

The younger sighs. “I’m broke and currently in between jobs, but more importantly I wanted to get closer to you.”

Against his will, butterflies erupt in his stomach.

“When I heard you on the phone that morning talking about putting up a flier at the bus stop,” continues Taerae. “I just knew this was finally my chance.”

“Finally?”

“I’ve had my eye on you since you moved in.”

Matthew turns his body to face the other, intrigued. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Taerae says. “When you knocked on my door that one time to bring me my mail, my heartbeat was so loud I could hear it in my ears.”

The older smiles. He holds his head in his hands and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, incredibly endeared. “Don’t feel too bad about this whole thing. I have to admit that I messaged you to come over once when there was nothing wrong. I just wanted your company.”

Taerae gasps, quickly turning to face him. “When?”

Matthew laughs, “When I said the tapping had gotten worse. It hadn’t.”

“Does that mean…” the younger pauses, visibly piecing it together in his head. “You’ve wanted this too?”

The older nods. “I have.”

Taerae blushes crimson but then sighs, frustrated again. “My lie was still much worse. I should have just–”

“Shh…” Matthew presses a finger to Taerae’s lips. He grins, “You talk too much.”

The younger looks confused. “Aren’t you upset with me?”

“No,” he says honestly. “You’ve told me the truth, given me my money back, and taken the time to come over and spend time with me this evening. How could I possibly be upset with you after all that?”

Taerae shrugs. “Fair.”

Matthew chuckles, getting on his knees again and straddling the other one leg at a time. “So you speak Old Korean, huh?”

“About that…” the younger laughs.

He shuts the other up with a peck of his lips. “I’ll look past that too. Hey, while you're here, you should help me clean the kitchen.”

“Done,” Taerae says quickly, like he’s under a spell. “I can do that.”

“Good.” The older leans forward and tips both of them backwards so they’re leaned back against the arm rest. “We can get to that eventually. And you know what else?”

Taerae halts his kissing at the other’s neck. “What’s that?”

“You should also spend the night here.”

Taerae laughs, cheeks still red hot. “I thought that was already a given.”

Matthew grins, his own cheeks burning. He says nothing else as he leans down to kiss Taerae, again and again.