Tempest
Title: Tempest [ONE-SHOT]
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: SuChen
Length: 6,000 words
Summary: After being caught in a treacherous storm at the coast, city-boy Kim Jongdae is swept away by an unexpected stranger.
Tempest
Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard
He lightens the beacon light at the end of world
Showing the way, lighting hope in their hearts
The ones on their travels homeward from afar
This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world…
- Nightwish ~ 'the Islander'
The sun had risen bright but that didn’t stop the wind. Salty gusts chipped at the exposed slices of Jongdae’s skin as he trudged along the haggard shoreline, tugging his sleeves down over his fingers and shoving them deep into his jacket pockets to save them from the cold.
I knew I should’ve worn gloves, he cursed silently.
The beach was deserted. Puffy clouds flecked with dark grey had rolled over the clear, blue sky he’d woken up to and now the sun’s rays speckled the shingle in patches of watery gold. Between sharp stones and pebbles as big as his palm, Jongdae spotted slithers of wet sand and even seashells half-lodged into the ground. Every now and then he’d stop and pick one up, holding it against the sky to appreciate the coils of coral pink or metallic blue that shone from their surfaces. Mussel shells were his favourite; like crescent carapaces painted navy and silver with brushes of plum along the inside. At the right angle, oily pools of colour gleamed in the sunlight like a raven’s wing. It didn’t take long for Jongdae to collect a fistful of them, including a few ribbed cockles and spiny miniature conches that pricked his skin a little. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do with them but they were pretty enough for decorating his new home, at least.
A born and bred a city boy with his roots buried deep in the concrete of an urban jungle, Jongdae was still acclimatising to his new rural environment. Staring out of his window at the sights of white-faced thatched cottages and looming, chalky cliffs at the coast was a far cry from the realm of apartment blocks and bustling traffic he was used to. Now all he heard in the morning were the songs of thrushes or the postman whistling rather than wailing sirens. The days of hearing rowdy drunks stumbling from the nearby bar or the screaming kid with the lungs of a banshee in the apartment above were long gone. Crashing waves and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze were his lullaby now and it was unsurprisingly soothing for his soul.
It had been 2 weeks since he’d moved to the seaside town and only then, once a fortnight of drizzle had ceased, did Jongdae brave the trek to the water’s edge to look out over the end of the world. Waves of steel-grey lashed against the pale shore and playful zephyrs carried the smell of brine in the air to tickle at his nostrils. The wind was picking up now and the chill bit at the tip of his ears but he didn’t turn back - not yet. He forgot about the cosy fireplace back at his house and mug of hot chocolate he could warm his hands on and, instead, stood completely still at the top of the beach while the air made tufts of his hair dance and seagulls cried out above his head.
And then the storm hit.
It had all happened quite suddenly. One moment there was a slice of shadow and faint flashes in the distance and the next everything had been shrouded in darkness. Thick rain clouds had billowed threateningly across the sky and showered the ground below with a sheet of water. Jongdae threw the hood of his jacket over his head and tucked his chin as deep into his chest as it would go while thunder rumbled and lightning cracked like white veins, illuminating the heavens. He spun on his heels and crunched across the shingle as fast as his limbs could carry him. Already the rain had soaked through the fabric of his clothes and made his skin shudder under blasts of freezing gusts. They swept his fringe roughly and almost took his feet off the ground altogether while he tried to walk. It wasn’t long, however, before he had to look up to see where he was going - and he didn’t have a clue.
“Dammit!” he swore, squinting hard through the veil of water. “I fucking hate nature…”
The rain was falling so thick Jongdae could barely see a meter ahead of him and he couldn’t remember how far he’d walked or even which direction he’d started from. In the end, all he could do was pivot on the spot and walk a little each way to catch his bearings, with little success, while his bones shivered and the skin on his hands turned red from being painfully cold. The flashes hurt his retinas. The thunder reverberated his eardrums. On and on the wind howled, relentlessly.
And then hands grabbed at his jacket.
Jongdae jumped in fright. “What the-!”
A pale face appeared behind the curtain of rain. “This way!” the stranger shouted, tugging on the soaked fabric and using his other arm to hint into the unknown.
Under normal circumstances, Jongdae would have torn himself from the boy’s grasp and shot him a snide look of what the actual fuck but with his teeth chattering so hard it was difficult to think logically. Instead, he let the stranger drag him by the sleeve through the wet haze. By the loud crashing of waves echoing over the storm, he guessed they were heading back towards the water.
“Where are we going?” he yelled.
The boy didn’t reply or even turn around. They just kept walking.
Eventually the answer to his question loomed faintly in the distance, perched tall and proud on a small shelf of sharp rocks being ruthlessly sprayed by the surrounding surf.
A lighthouse.
Once they’d navigated the slippery path and stumbled through the door, Jongdae finally felt able to breathe again. His chest was sore and stung with every inhale from the cold air. On top of that, every inch of him was shivering and dripping wet all over the tiled floor he now stood on. Flicking a wet fringe out of his face, he looked up to take in his new surroundings.
They were in a kitchen. It was circular to match the shape of the building and took up the entire ground floor. A black metal staircase wound up to the upper floors to one side while rustic cabinets, cupboards and hanging utensils lined the walls. Everything was either painted beige or wooden and any space on the walls was filled with various seascape drawings or old photographs of boats and the infamous coastline. The wind continued to howl.
“I have some spare clothes you can change into,” said the stranger. “It’ll save you catching a cold.”
Jongdae followed him upstairs and into a small bedroom. From the wardrobe, the boy found a thick jumper and trousers to hand over before smiling shyly and leaving Jongdae to change. He was thankful in that moment that they were about the same height and size because his own clothes felt like ice against his wet skin. Through the tiny window that looked out over the ocean, he could make out violent waves behind the raindrops that slid down the glass.
He sighed. It didn’t look as though the storm was going to end any time soon.
Jongdae carried his soaked clothes back down to the kitchen and was rewarded with a flood of warmth that radiated from a newly-lit auger that had rumbled into life. The boy filled an old tea kettle with water and placed it on the hob before taking his clothes and hanging them in front of the heat source to dry. Jongdae picked at his woolly sleeve and shifted his weight from one foot to the other in the awkward silence.
He decided to fill it. “T-thank you - for the clothes, I mean.”
“It’s no problem.” The boy turned around just as the kettle started to sing. “You looked pretty lost out there. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. I moved down from the city about 2 weeks ago. Is it…that obvious?”
“A little,” the boy smirked, but it wasn’t snide. “Do you want some tea?”
Jongdae’s ears picked up. “Do you have anything stronger?”
The boy’s smile widened as he opened one of the cabinet doors and pulled out a square, brown bottle. He poured its golden contents into a shallow glass.
“This should warm you up if nothing else will.”
Jongdae gave the drink a tentative sniff. Whiskey.
“Thanks. I’m Jongdae, by the way. Kim Jongdae.”
“Joonmyun. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.
Jongdae took it and couldn’t help but notice how rough the skin on his fingers and palm was. They were working hands. His own must’ve felt like silk in comparison.
“So what’s your story?” he asked. A wooden stool lurked behind him and he sat down.
Joonmyun remained standing. In his grasp, he hugged a steaming cup of earl grey. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“In this lighthouse?”
He nodded.
Jongdae gulped and looked around. “It’s…nice…”
It wasn’t a complete lie. The house itself was impressive. Not once had Jongdae stepped into a lighthouse before so it was definitely a new experience. The rustic details and nautical theme that ran throughout meant the beach never really left once you walked inside. However, it was also something of a time warp. From the questionably patterned carpet and wallpaper in the bedroom to the aged appliances in the kitchen, Jongdae felt as though he’d been suddenly transported to a world 60 years previously. Joonmyun certainly seemed like something of a traditionalist. Even his hairstyle was far from fashionable in the 21st century. Or was it fashionable? Jongdae could never keep up with trends - not that he ever tried.
“It’s home,” Joonmyun sighed. “It’s been in my family for generations. What brings you to the coast? What do you do?”
Jongdae sipped his drink. The whiskey was working wonders. Each gulp sent a tingling sensation down his spine and rested like warm coals in his stomach. “I’m a teacher. Well, trying to be. I’ve only just graduated. My first post is the old boarding school just out of town. Do you know it?”
“I know it well. I used to study there. Does Mr Watson still teach history?”
He shrugged. “I’ve only had my induction day so far so I haven’t met all the staff yet. My first class starts on Monday but…well…”
Still the wind howled.
Joonmyun chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’ll pass. It always does.”
But the endless rain told a different story.
“Maybe I should go. I don’t want to intrude-”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If you couldn’t find your way back in the daylight, you have no hope at this hour.”
The sun had set and darkness had crept over the shore. They’d settled in the cosy lounge on the first floor while the storm raged on endlessly outside. For hours Jongdae had been snuggled in the armchair by the window with his feet tucked up on the seat while Joonmyun told him stories of the town and its deep maritime history. Even the lighthouse, which turned out to be over 150 years old, had a tale or two to its name. Joonmyun had pulled down a photo album from the bookcase and flipped it open on his lap for Jongdae to see. All the pictures were black and white but barely faded as though they’d been carefully looked after for years. Before he knew it, Jongdae was blinking at the lights being switched on and greeted with only the black of night looming at him from beyond the glass.
“You can have my bed tonight. I’ll sleep down here.” The intimate light cast mature shadows across Joonmyun’s features. He had the faintest trace of stubble on his chin to taint the almost angelic face he possessed, although it looked a little weathered from the sea air.
He must’ve had the most perfect skin when he was younger, Jongdae thought. Maybe it was the whiskey talking.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t-” he protested, getting out of his seat.
Joonmyun held up a hand. “I don’t mind, really. The sofa is comfortable enough. You’re my guest.”
“If it’s comfortable enough then let me sleep on it. I’ve slept on far worse, trust me. I was an undergraduate, remember?”
The corner of Joonmyun’s lips tilted upwards. It made Jongdae’s stomach flip a little. “You’re sleeping in the bed and that’s final.”
No matter how much he pouted, Jongdae didn’t get his way. Although once he’d slid with borrowed pyjama bottoms under the thick quilt, he was suddenly grateful. It felt like bliss to sandwich himself inside duck feather-filled heaven while the tempest howled and whistled outside walls. He hoped Joonmyun was comfortable and warm enough below.
The pillows smelt like him.
In the morning, Jongdae unhooked a dressing gown from behind the door and made his way downstairs with the intention of grabbing his clothes and leaving. Not without saying goodbye, of course. But the weather wasn’t having any of it and the smell of bacon in the kitchen made him salivate so much he completely forgot his plan altogether.
Joonmyun returned from the fridge with eggs in hand. “Ah, good morning! You’ll be wanting breakfast, right?”
“Not even this storm could stop me eating that bacon. It smells incredible.” He sauntered over to the stove and peered over Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Can I help?”
Joonmyun nudged some mushrooms and a knife in his direction and he started slicing away happily. Soon their plates were laden with a fried breakfast for kings as they settled at the little table to the side of the room with condiments galore. Jongdae didn’t even question why each of the sauce bottles had vintage labels on them.
“So…what does a lighthouse keeper actually do?” he asked through a mouthful of sausage. “I didn’t think we needed them anymore.” He glanced up. “No offence.”
Joonmyun smiled. Jongdae always managed to make him smile. “Well, we maintain the state of the lighthouses themselves as well as the beacons. There’s lenses to clean and windows in the tower to keep clear. Plus, there’s the radio contact with passing ships. Other than that…not very much, to be honest.”
“Do you ever get lonely?”
He thought for a moment. “Sometimes.”
Jongdae could only imagine. Having spent most of his life living in a building with tens of people and studying with hundreds, he didn’t really have a clue how it really felt to be alone. Living out at the edge of the ocean with only the squawking of gulls to keep you company all day must be tiresome after a while.
He tried to lighten the mood. “Are you doing much today?”
“The tower’s suffering in this weather. There’s a couple of things I need to repair.” Before Jongdae could open his mouth, he continued, “and no, there’s no need for you to help. Relax, Jongdae. Put your feet up.”
“I will pay you back for all of this, I promise.” He motioned to his plate and gown.
Joonmyun stood up from his chair. “You don’t have to. Having you around is enough. I like your company.” As he swung himself onto the winding stairs, he shouted down, “Plus, you’re not too bad to look at either.”
Jongdae’s fork clattered on the floor.
There were plenty of books to keep him occupied while Joonmyun worked. Every now and then he’d pass the living room in those hideous overalls and wave politely at Jongdae who had his nose in a hard-back. Each passing only made Jongdae laugh harder at how ridiculous he looked, especially with his hair slicked over to the side like that. He looked like something out of Singin’ in the Rain.
At the same time, he was adorable and made Jongdae’s stomach flutter whenever he opened his mouth or blinked or just breathed the same air as him in the room and Jongdae had to hold his head in his hands as everything became suddenly dizzy.
“What am I even still doing here?” he asked himself. In the space of a day he’s almost forgotten the outside world existed, even if you couldn’t see it through the rain.
But no matter how hard he willed his legs to carry his body to the front door, he just couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave even if the weather was bright and clear.
After a quick lunch and a few hours of flicking through books on beacon signals and nautical jargon, a restless Jongdae decided to explore. The staircase that ran up along the inside of the lighthouse seemed to go on forever and he’d had enough of seeing Joonmyun walk up and down and make curious banging noises from the top that he wanted to see it for himself.
Higher and higher he ascended. The living quarters had ended by the second floor which left only the neck of the tower to navigate while clinging to the stair rail. Despite how obviously sturdy the building was, the gale-force winds that sang outside made him nervous. Every now and then he’d pass a little window and catch a glimpse of the steel-hued nightmare that didn’t sleep.
The air was starting to get a little chillier. Jongdae rubbed his hands up and down his arms and silently wished he’d picked up his jacket as the steps wound tighter and steeper and the tower’s door came into view. He rapped his knuckles against the wood but nobody replied so he shrugged and let himself in.
Jongdae immediately had to shield his eyes. After being inside for so long with only the dullness through the window and flickering light bulbs to contend with, it was a shock for his retinas to be suddenly surrounded by nothing by glass looking out in all directions. The strangest thing was, he wasn’t just hearing the storm anymore or catching glimpses of it, he was practically living it as rain lashed from every angle and lighting flashes lit up every surface and thunder made the floor shake. The thick, dark clouds hung so low in the sky, he felt as though he could reach up and touch them through the roof. It was surreal and magical to see it all from so high - all the while still soaking in the fact that he was at the top of a lighthouse of all places and stood barely inches from a real lighthouse beacon. No doubt it would be turned on once the sun went down.
The door creaked open behind him.
“I was wondering how long it would take you.”
Joonmyun emerged with a paint can and brush in hand sporting that ridiculously dazzling smile that could have directed ships for miles around.
Who needs a beacon when he can just open his lips like that? Jongdae quickly shook the thought out of his head.
“Take me to do what?”
“Give in to curiosity.” Joonmyun stared out wistfully at the raging water as lightning strikes lit up his face. “It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”
Jongdae let out a rough exhale through his teeth. “It’s unreal.”
He took the deafening wind howls as an excuse to join Joonmyun at one of the windows. The hairs on his arms were on end and Jongdae wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the chill that whistled through the gaps or how they were stood so close he could almost feel Joonmyun’s body heat against his skin. He cleared his throat.
“It must be chaos out there. I bet the roads have flooded and the school’s closed. It’s crazy. What sort of storm lasts this long? It can’t be natural…”
Joonmyun shot him a side-look. “Are you…wanting to go home?”
“No! No, not at all. I...actually really like it here,” Jongdae hastily explained. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this place before. I had no idea it even existed.”
“I don’t think I could leave even if I tried,” Joonmyun breathed, steaming up the glass a little.
“I thought the same away about the city once, but now…I honestly couldn’t imagine going back.”
Their eyes connected then. It was a fleeting look that sent the butterflies in Jongdae’s abdomen a little wild while time slowed and it felt more like a few minutes than a single second.
“You’ve shaved…”
As soon as the words left his lips, Jongdae wanted to snatch them back as he cringed inside. But Joonmyun’s smoother chin had completely stolen his attention and, for some reason, he was starting to find it difficult to control what came out of his mouth. He felt the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks.
Was Joonmyun blushing too? “Oh, yeah…I didn’t fancy being a complete scruff.” He motioned to his overalls and laughed. “Next to you I look like a complete state and it’s only about to get worse.” The paint can clattered on the ledge.
“Let me help,” said Jongdae, clapping his hands together. “You’ve got to let me do something. I’ll die of boredom down there if you’re up here enjoying all the fun with the great view.”
Joonmyun raised an eyebrow. “You want to help me re-paint the tower?”
Jongdae flashed a smirk and grabbed the paintbrush from his hand. In one swift movement, he dunked the end into the paint and wiped is across his face with a mischievous bite of his tongue between his teeth.
“Well, maybe not just the tower.”
The hours faded along with the minutes and time itself evolved into a pale blur. Jongdae had never felt so content in scruffy overalls with white paint more on his skin than his clothes and a permanent smile etched onto his face, plus the laughter lines to match. Regardless of the hurricane that kept him prisoner from the real world, the lighthouse turned into more of a haven where he could forget the anxiety for starting his new job or the worry of paying off his student loan or the woes of living by himself. All of that didn’t matter when he had Joonmyun the lighthouse keeper to cheekily flick paint at or make dinner with or learn about the politics of the ocean just to hear him speak. It took more than 2 nights to finish touching up the tower and the rest of the odd DIY jobs that Jongdae was happy to help with. The building was old and falling apart and needed care and attention, after all.
And yet still the wind howled.
The sun would set and Jongdae would join Joonmyun at the top to watch the light spin and illuminate the thundering heavens outside. The beam would highlight the raindrops with pale gold, making them look like the embers of fireworks for a split second as they descended to the crashing water below. It was a wonder any ships could see it through the fog but Joonmyun reassured him the light could be seen for miles, even in the most treacherous weather.
The thunder was their orchestra and the forks of lightning were their show.
“Joonmyun-” Jongdae started, but he stopped.
The other turned his head. “What is it, Jongdae?”
He exhaled and steam rose from his lips. “It’s Monday tomorrow.”
Only the whistling gusts filled the silence.
“I know,” said Joonmyun solemnly.
Jongdae looked over and the boy had hung his head. It made him sad to think his time at the lighthouse would be over soon and, by the looks of things, Joonmyun felt the same way.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “This place, you…it’s all been an inspiration.”
Joonmyun met his eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
Jongdae chucked. “You have no idea.”
He couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to Joonmyun’s lips. With every turn of the beacon, light would flash across his mouth and tease Jongdae with the delicious flesh that, even without whiskey, he longed to taste for himself. He’d watched him for days and played in his head the idea of being held by him and touched by him and feeling his warm breath on his skin. But there was no rush. It was only the beginning.
Jongdae felt his fingers tingle. Joonmyun had shifted his hand and placed it on top.
“I’m so glad I found you. In the storm.” He shot a half-grin. “Maybe the weather wasn’t so much of a curse after all.”
Jongdae bit down on his lip.
Ahh, what the heck.
In the next moment, everything had gone dark. Jongdae’s eyes were closed and his mouth was warm against the other’s. He half-expected Joonmyun to squirm and pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, a hand worked its way up to the side of his face and through his hair and suddenly their breathing quickened as their bodies melted into each other on the floor of the tower.
Joonmyun pulled back. Even in the dim light his lips looked dark pink and plump. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because now I don’t know how I’ll let you leave.”
Jongdae laughed with relief. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled the other back by the scruff of his overalls and lavished his salty kisses with pleasure. Light moans escaped from his throat while wandering fingers explored every contour of his body over the thick material. It took every ounce of restraint not to tear at Joonmyun’s clothes and press against his naked flesh with the ashen sky as their only witness.
But there was no rush. They had forever.
Or so he thought.
Jongdae woke up to a stiff neck and chapped lips. The tower’s floor was freezing but Joonmyun had wrapped his arms around him all night to keep the worst of the chill out. Only the streams of old 1950s newspapers they’d used to cover the surfaces while they painted were within arm’s reach for a make-shift quilt and, unsurprisingly, the thin paper didn’t work so well at insulating their body heat.
For a moment he thought the storm had finally stopped but it was only his weary, half-asleep state that tricked his hopes. Rain was still hammering against the glass.
His eyes flew to his watch and his stomach dropped.
It was Monday. It was 6am. He had a job to get to.
At lightning speed, he rushed down the winding staircase to the bedroom on the second floor. It was a relief to peel off the paint-spattered overalls since they chaffed his skin in unlikely places and smelled half a century old. Just as he was shoving his feet into his socks, a sleepy Joonmyun appeared in the doorway.
“What’s happening? Where are you going?”
“I have work in a couple of hours, remember? I have to go - storm or no storm.” He paused as an idea occurred to him. “Come out with me.”
Joonmyun stopped rubbing his eyes. “What?”
“We’ve been cooped up in here for days. Let’s go and have some fun before it ends,” Jongdae suggested excitedly.
Joonmyun reached forward with a forlorn expression to link their fingers. “It doesn’t have to end.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jongdae. “I meant the storm, not us. You know I’ll come back, right?” He tugged at Joonmyun’s hands. “Please?”
“You’re crazy - it’s too dangerous! You can’t leave.” He desperately pulled Jongdae closer with a tighter grip.
“Don’t worry. I’ll run for it! C’mon!”
He dragged Joonmyun down the steps to the looming front door where they paused. Even through the heavy wood, they could hear the wind roar and thunder growl menacingly.
“Ready?” asked Jongdae.
“Not to let you go.”
He rolled his eyes and flashed a grin. “Stop being so dramatic.”
As soon as he twisted the doorknob, it flew open from the gale-force strength outside. Sheets of water streamed through the open doorway and drenched the floor and welcome mat. Jongdae flipped his meagre hood over this head and ducked his chin low while he grabbed at Joonmyun’s hand and hauled him into the chaos.
They trudged over the slippery rocks and waded a little through wet sand to make it onto the beach where Jongdae stopped and opened his arms wide.
“See? It’s not that bad!” He could barely hear his own voice over the strong gusts. Within seconds his teeth were beginning to chatter and the lightning was putting him on edge so he edged closer to Joonmyun and hugged his chest.
“What are we doing out here? It’s freezing!”
Jongdae looked up at his rain-speckled face. “I just…wanted to kiss you in the rain.”
Even with hair slicked wet against his skull and pale skin flushed with patches of red from the icy wind, Joonmyun still managed to look beautiful. If there really were hundreds of butterflies in his stomach, they’d be dancing while the falling water soaked their warms mouths as they moved against each other. Jongdae’s tongue weaved between his lips and under his teeth and every nerve ending sparked with electricity; from the fingers laced into Joonmyun’s hair to the tip of his sand-soaked toes. Even the hazardous weather couldn’t keep their bodies apart.
Joonmyun’s breath tickled his skin. “Please don’t forget me.”
Jongdae, still with his eyes closed, felt his eyebrows knit together. “Forget you? What are you-?”
But when he stepped back and opened them wide, Joonmyun was gone.
The rain stopped.
The thunder ceased.
The sun broke out from behind the clouds.
And there was no more lighthouse.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, ankle deep in wet sand with sunbeams making his eyes sting and gulls screaming in his ear from above. Everything had gone numb so suddenly.
“J-…Joonmyun?”
But there was no Joonmyun. The ragged rocks that hugged the lighthouse like a nest were surrounding empty space. Dog-walkers and joggers were passing by without a single care in the world, as though nothing had happened. Nobody’s eyes flickered to the spot where he’d spent the last few days of his life, nobody’s heads turned in shock at the missing monument on their coastline. It was as though it was never there to begin with.
Limbs numb with the cold and swallowing through a dry throat, Jongdae managed to stumble to the top of the beach in a state of shock. The entire walk home, he kept pinching the skin on his hands and arms and even his thighs through thick denim to check he wasn’t dreaming.
This can’t be happening…the lighthouse…it can’t have just disappeared...
And Joonmyun’s last words haunted his fresh memories.
“Please don’t forget me.”
When Jongdae reached his front gate, he was greeted by a whistling postman shoving letters through his door. Without even thinking, he padded up the path with dripping clothes and the man turned around to look at him with mild shock.
“The lighthouse…” he croaked. “What happened to it? Where did it go?”
The man’s forehead crinkled. “Lighthouse? There hasn’t been a lighthouse on the shore for decades. It was destroyed years ago. In a really terrible storm, they say.”
At the sight of Jongdae’s pale face dropping, he added, “If you go to the library, they have tonnes of archives stored in the basement; old newspapers and stuff. You’ll find everything you need there, I reckon.”
He shot Jongdae a side-look as he passed but continued whistling once he closed the gate. No doubt he’d entertain his colleagues with the tale of a soaked drunk mumbling delirious questions about a lighthouse that didn’t even exist anymore.
There hasn’t been a lighthouse on the shore for decades…
Jongdae shook his head. “No…this can’t be happening…”
The weather may have calmed, but a tempest still raged deep in his heart.
How he managed to survive his first day at the boarding school, he had no idea. Jongdae could barely make out the faces of his new students and fellow staff while plaguing himself with the thought of Joonmyun every minute of the day. Every few minutes he considered sitting down and putting his head between his knees to stop the world from spinning. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was finally losing touch with reality and imagining things.
Or maybe…the lighthouse came back.
As soon as his day was over, Jongdae rushed to the library in the centre of town. Just as the postman had described, the basement held everything he needed. With a little help from a tricky computer system and a haughty librarian, he managed to find the newspaper articles he was looking for.
Newspapers from 1950s.
They each told the same story to make his fingers shake. A lighthouse had, indeed, stood proudly at the coast, like a pale guardian for passing marine vessels and a symbol of the seaside town. But in the winter of 1959, a record-breaking storm had hit the shore and damaged the already crumbling structure beyond repair. There were black and white photographs printed with people posing excitedly in front of it while ships sailed past in the background and the sun shone brightly on the white tower.
But the real shock was yet to come.
A young man by the name of Kim Joonmyun had died in that storm. A lightning strike to the collapsing building had sent the home’s power into haywire and electrocuted the boy who’d worked so hard to keep the lighthouse going during the disastrous weather. Jongdae’s temples began to sweat as his gaze found a single photograph printed in the local broadsheet.
It was Joonmyun. Just as Jongdae remembered him - the same hair, the same overalls…the same lighthouse.
But over 50 years ago.
Jongdae returned to the beach every day.
He stood on the same spot and looked out over the rock faces and waited for the lighthouse to appear. In sunshine, rain, hail and snow - he waited for it to come back to him.
It didn’t.
“Mr Kim? Are you alright?”
Jongdae had paused his hand on the whiteboard. The class had gone silent. Every face of his students was staring directly at him with apprehension. Something had rumbled from the darkening clouds looming outside the window. Something had echoed through the school’s halls and every vein in his body. Something had awoken the tempest in his heart.
Thunder.
There hadn’t been a storm in almost a year. Not since…
His eyes flew to the clock ticking on the wall. His class still had 10 minutes to go.
Ahh, what the heck.
“Class is dismissed!” he shouted, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair as the class howled with delight. “We’re finishing early today. I have to go. It’s very important. No loitering in the corridors!”
He’d never run so fast. Jongdae flew down the hallway and dodged lunch ladies on their way to the canteen and wandering staff members and jumped onto his scooter in the car park. He cursed at every car on the road that slowed him down while the heavens opened and rain fell like a waterfall. The thunder was getting louder. The lightning was getting brighter.
The beach was getting closer.
By the time he pulled up next to the coast, the rain was so hard he could barely see. His clothes were soaked through and clinging painfully to his skin, but he didn’t care. He stumbled over the shingle and sucked cold, briny air into his lungs. It was a struggle to walk against the wind and stay upright. It seemed like nature, just like before, was determined to sweep him off his feet. Icy water flew at his face. His knees stung with every step. He kept walking.
As he neared the water, the ocean spray leapt into the air and, through gaps in the billowing fog, a single structure materialised in the haze.
A lighthouse.
Other fics: Supernova [XiuHan/57k], Porcelain [SeKai/SuChen/38k]
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: SuChen
Length: 6,000 words
Summary: After being caught in a treacherous storm at the coast, city-boy Kim Jongdae is swept away by an unexpected stranger.
Tempest
Sea without a shore for the banished one unheard
He lightens the beacon light at the end of world
Showing the way, lighting hope in their hearts
The ones on their travels homeward from afar
This is for long-forgotten
Light at the end of the world…
- Nightwish ~ 'the Islander'
The sun had risen bright but that didn’t stop the wind. Salty gusts chipped at the exposed slices of Jongdae’s skin as he trudged along the haggard shoreline, tugging his sleeves down over his fingers and shoving them deep into his jacket pockets to save them from the cold.
I knew I should’ve worn gloves, he cursed silently.
The beach was deserted. Puffy clouds flecked with dark grey had rolled over the clear, blue sky he’d woken up to and now the sun’s rays speckled the shingle in patches of watery gold. Between sharp stones and pebbles as big as his palm, Jongdae spotted slithers of wet sand and even seashells half-lodged into the ground. Every now and then he’d stop and pick one up, holding it against the sky to appreciate the coils of coral pink or metallic blue that shone from their surfaces. Mussel shells were his favourite; like crescent carapaces painted navy and silver with brushes of plum along the inside. At the right angle, oily pools of colour gleamed in the sunlight like a raven’s wing. It didn’t take long for Jongdae to collect a fistful of them, including a few ribbed cockles and spiny miniature conches that pricked his skin a little. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do with them but they were pretty enough for decorating his new home, at least.
A born and bred a city boy with his roots buried deep in the concrete of an urban jungle, Jongdae was still acclimatising to his new rural environment. Staring out of his window at the sights of white-faced thatched cottages and looming, chalky cliffs at the coast was a far cry from the realm of apartment blocks and bustling traffic he was used to. Now all he heard in the morning were the songs of thrushes or the postman whistling rather than wailing sirens. The days of hearing rowdy drunks stumbling from the nearby bar or the screaming kid with the lungs of a banshee in the apartment above were long gone. Crashing waves and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze were his lullaby now and it was unsurprisingly soothing for his soul.
It had been 2 weeks since he’d moved to the seaside town and only then, once a fortnight of drizzle had ceased, did Jongdae brave the trek to the water’s edge to look out over the end of the world. Waves of steel-grey lashed against the pale shore and playful zephyrs carried the smell of brine in the air to tickle at his nostrils. The wind was picking up now and the chill bit at the tip of his ears but he didn’t turn back - not yet. He forgot about the cosy fireplace back at his house and mug of hot chocolate he could warm his hands on and, instead, stood completely still at the top of the beach while the air made tufts of his hair dance and seagulls cried out above his head.
And then the storm hit.
It had all happened quite suddenly. One moment there was a slice of shadow and faint flashes in the distance and the next everything had been shrouded in darkness. Thick rain clouds had billowed threateningly across the sky and showered the ground below with a sheet of water. Jongdae threw the hood of his jacket over his head and tucked his chin as deep into his chest as it would go while thunder rumbled and lightning cracked like white veins, illuminating the heavens. He spun on his heels and crunched across the shingle as fast as his limbs could carry him. Already the rain had soaked through the fabric of his clothes and made his skin shudder under blasts of freezing gusts. They swept his fringe roughly and almost took his feet off the ground altogether while he tried to walk. It wasn’t long, however, before he had to look up to see where he was going - and he didn’t have a clue.
“Dammit!” he swore, squinting hard through the veil of water. “I fucking hate nature…”
The rain was falling so thick Jongdae could barely see a meter ahead of him and he couldn’t remember how far he’d walked or even which direction he’d started from. In the end, all he could do was pivot on the spot and walk a little each way to catch his bearings, with little success, while his bones shivered and the skin on his hands turned red from being painfully cold. The flashes hurt his retinas. The thunder reverberated his eardrums. On and on the wind howled, relentlessly.
And then hands grabbed at his jacket.
Jongdae jumped in fright. “What the-!”
A pale face appeared behind the curtain of rain. “This way!” the stranger shouted, tugging on the soaked fabric and using his other arm to hint into the unknown.
Under normal circumstances, Jongdae would have torn himself from the boy’s grasp and shot him a snide look of what the actual fuck but with his teeth chattering so hard it was difficult to think logically. Instead, he let the stranger drag him by the sleeve through the wet haze. By the loud crashing of waves echoing over the storm, he guessed they were heading back towards the water.
“Where are we going?” he yelled.
The boy didn’t reply or even turn around. They just kept walking.
Eventually the answer to his question loomed faintly in the distance, perched tall and proud on a small shelf of sharp rocks being ruthlessly sprayed by the surrounding surf.
A lighthouse.
Once they’d navigated the slippery path and stumbled through the door, Jongdae finally felt able to breathe again. His chest was sore and stung with every inhale from the cold air. On top of that, every inch of him was shivering and dripping wet all over the tiled floor he now stood on. Flicking a wet fringe out of his face, he looked up to take in his new surroundings.
They were in a kitchen. It was circular to match the shape of the building and took up the entire ground floor. A black metal staircase wound up to the upper floors to one side while rustic cabinets, cupboards and hanging utensils lined the walls. Everything was either painted beige or wooden and any space on the walls was filled with various seascape drawings or old photographs of boats and the infamous coastline. The wind continued to howl.
“I have some spare clothes you can change into,” said the stranger. “It’ll save you catching a cold.”
Jongdae followed him upstairs and into a small bedroom. From the wardrobe, the boy found a thick jumper and trousers to hand over before smiling shyly and leaving Jongdae to change. He was thankful in that moment that they were about the same height and size because his own clothes felt like ice against his wet skin. Through the tiny window that looked out over the ocean, he could make out violent waves behind the raindrops that slid down the glass.
He sighed. It didn’t look as though the storm was going to end any time soon.
Jongdae carried his soaked clothes back down to the kitchen and was rewarded with a flood of warmth that radiated from a newly-lit auger that had rumbled into life. The boy filled an old tea kettle with water and placed it on the hob before taking his clothes and hanging them in front of the heat source to dry. Jongdae picked at his woolly sleeve and shifted his weight from one foot to the other in the awkward silence.
He decided to fill it. “T-thank you - for the clothes, I mean.”
“It’s no problem.” The boy turned around just as the kettle started to sing. “You looked pretty lost out there. Are you new around here?”
“Yeah. I moved down from the city about 2 weeks ago. Is it…that obvious?”
“A little,” the boy smirked, but it wasn’t snide. “Do you want some tea?”
Jongdae’s ears picked up. “Do you have anything stronger?”
The boy’s smile widened as he opened one of the cabinet doors and pulled out a square, brown bottle. He poured its golden contents into a shallow glass.
“This should warm you up if nothing else will.”
Jongdae gave the drink a tentative sniff. Whiskey.
“Thanks. I’m Jongdae, by the way. Kim Jongdae.”
“Joonmyun. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand.
Jongdae took it and couldn’t help but notice how rough the skin on his fingers and palm was. They were working hands. His own must’ve felt like silk in comparison.
“So what’s your story?” he asked. A wooden stool lurked behind him and he sat down.
Joonmyun remained standing. In his grasp, he hugged a steaming cup of earl grey. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”
“In this lighthouse?”
He nodded.
Jongdae gulped and looked around. “It’s…nice…”
It wasn’t a complete lie. The house itself was impressive. Not once had Jongdae stepped into a lighthouse before so it was definitely a new experience. The rustic details and nautical theme that ran throughout meant the beach never really left once you walked inside. However, it was also something of a time warp. From the questionably patterned carpet and wallpaper in the bedroom to the aged appliances in the kitchen, Jongdae felt as though he’d been suddenly transported to a world 60 years previously. Joonmyun certainly seemed like something of a traditionalist. Even his hairstyle was far from fashionable in the 21st century. Or was it fashionable? Jongdae could never keep up with trends - not that he ever tried.
“It’s home,” Joonmyun sighed. “It’s been in my family for generations. What brings you to the coast? What do you do?”
Jongdae sipped his drink. The whiskey was working wonders. Each gulp sent a tingling sensation down his spine and rested like warm coals in his stomach. “I’m a teacher. Well, trying to be. I’ve only just graduated. My first post is the old boarding school just out of town. Do you know it?”
“I know it well. I used to study there. Does Mr Watson still teach history?”
He shrugged. “I’ve only had my induction day so far so I haven’t met all the staff yet. My first class starts on Monday but…well…”
Still the wind howled.
Joonmyun chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’ll pass. It always does.”
But the endless rain told a different story.
“Maybe I should go. I don’t want to intrude-”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If you couldn’t find your way back in the daylight, you have no hope at this hour.”
The sun had set and darkness had crept over the shore. They’d settled in the cosy lounge on the first floor while the storm raged on endlessly outside. For hours Jongdae had been snuggled in the armchair by the window with his feet tucked up on the seat while Joonmyun told him stories of the town and its deep maritime history. Even the lighthouse, which turned out to be over 150 years old, had a tale or two to its name. Joonmyun had pulled down a photo album from the bookcase and flipped it open on his lap for Jongdae to see. All the pictures were black and white but barely faded as though they’d been carefully looked after for years. Before he knew it, Jongdae was blinking at the lights being switched on and greeted with only the black of night looming at him from beyond the glass.
“You can have my bed tonight. I’ll sleep down here.” The intimate light cast mature shadows across Joonmyun’s features. He had the faintest trace of stubble on his chin to taint the almost angelic face he possessed, although it looked a little weathered from the sea air.
He must’ve had the most perfect skin when he was younger, Jongdae thought. Maybe it was the whiskey talking.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t-” he protested, getting out of his seat.
Joonmyun held up a hand. “I don’t mind, really. The sofa is comfortable enough. You’re my guest.”
“If it’s comfortable enough then let me sleep on it. I’ve slept on far worse, trust me. I was an undergraduate, remember?”
The corner of Joonmyun’s lips tilted upwards. It made Jongdae’s stomach flip a little. “You’re sleeping in the bed and that’s final.”
No matter how much he pouted, Jongdae didn’t get his way. Although once he’d slid with borrowed pyjama bottoms under the thick quilt, he was suddenly grateful. It felt like bliss to sandwich himself inside duck feather-filled heaven while the tempest howled and whistled outside walls. He hoped Joonmyun was comfortable and warm enough below.
The pillows smelt like him.
In the morning, Jongdae unhooked a dressing gown from behind the door and made his way downstairs with the intention of grabbing his clothes and leaving. Not without saying goodbye, of course. But the weather wasn’t having any of it and the smell of bacon in the kitchen made him salivate so much he completely forgot his plan altogether.
Joonmyun returned from the fridge with eggs in hand. “Ah, good morning! You’ll be wanting breakfast, right?”
“Not even this storm could stop me eating that bacon. It smells incredible.” He sauntered over to the stove and peered over Joonmyun’s shoulder. “Can I help?”
Joonmyun nudged some mushrooms and a knife in his direction and he started slicing away happily. Soon their plates were laden with a fried breakfast for kings as they settled at the little table to the side of the room with condiments galore. Jongdae didn’t even question why each of the sauce bottles had vintage labels on them.
“So…what does a lighthouse keeper actually do?” he asked through a mouthful of sausage. “I didn’t think we needed them anymore.” He glanced up. “No offence.”
Joonmyun smiled. Jongdae always managed to make him smile. “Well, we maintain the state of the lighthouses themselves as well as the beacons. There’s lenses to clean and windows in the tower to keep clear. Plus, there’s the radio contact with passing ships. Other than that…not very much, to be honest.”
“Do you ever get lonely?”
He thought for a moment. “Sometimes.”
Jongdae could only imagine. Having spent most of his life living in a building with tens of people and studying with hundreds, he didn’t really have a clue how it really felt to be alone. Living out at the edge of the ocean with only the squawking of gulls to keep you company all day must be tiresome after a while.
He tried to lighten the mood. “Are you doing much today?”
“The tower’s suffering in this weather. There’s a couple of things I need to repair.” Before Jongdae could open his mouth, he continued, “and no, there’s no need for you to help. Relax, Jongdae. Put your feet up.”
“I will pay you back for all of this, I promise.” He motioned to his plate and gown.
Joonmyun stood up from his chair. “You don’t have to. Having you around is enough. I like your company.” As he swung himself onto the winding stairs, he shouted down, “Plus, you’re not too bad to look at either.”
Jongdae’s fork clattered on the floor.
There were plenty of books to keep him occupied while Joonmyun worked. Every now and then he’d pass the living room in those hideous overalls and wave politely at Jongdae who had his nose in a hard-back. Each passing only made Jongdae laugh harder at how ridiculous he looked, especially with his hair slicked over to the side like that. He looked like something out of Singin’ in the Rain.
At the same time, he was adorable and made Jongdae’s stomach flutter whenever he opened his mouth or blinked or just breathed the same air as him in the room and Jongdae had to hold his head in his hands as everything became suddenly dizzy.
“What am I even still doing here?” he asked himself. In the space of a day he’s almost forgotten the outside world existed, even if you couldn’t see it through the rain.
But no matter how hard he willed his legs to carry his body to the front door, he just couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave even if the weather was bright and clear.
After a quick lunch and a few hours of flicking through books on beacon signals and nautical jargon, a restless Jongdae decided to explore. The staircase that ran up along the inside of the lighthouse seemed to go on forever and he’d had enough of seeing Joonmyun walk up and down and make curious banging noises from the top that he wanted to see it for himself.
Higher and higher he ascended. The living quarters had ended by the second floor which left only the neck of the tower to navigate while clinging to the stair rail. Despite how obviously sturdy the building was, the gale-force winds that sang outside made him nervous. Every now and then he’d pass a little window and catch a glimpse of the steel-hued nightmare that didn’t sleep.
The air was starting to get a little chillier. Jongdae rubbed his hands up and down his arms and silently wished he’d picked up his jacket as the steps wound tighter and steeper and the tower’s door came into view. He rapped his knuckles against the wood but nobody replied so he shrugged and let himself in.
Jongdae immediately had to shield his eyes. After being inside for so long with only the dullness through the window and flickering light bulbs to contend with, it was a shock for his retinas to be suddenly surrounded by nothing by glass looking out in all directions. The strangest thing was, he wasn’t just hearing the storm anymore or catching glimpses of it, he was practically living it as rain lashed from every angle and lighting flashes lit up every surface and thunder made the floor shake. The thick, dark clouds hung so low in the sky, he felt as though he could reach up and touch them through the roof. It was surreal and magical to see it all from so high - all the while still soaking in the fact that he was at the top of a lighthouse of all places and stood barely inches from a real lighthouse beacon. No doubt it would be turned on once the sun went down.
The door creaked open behind him.
“I was wondering how long it would take you.”
Joonmyun emerged with a paint can and brush in hand sporting that ridiculously dazzling smile that could have directed ships for miles around.
Who needs a beacon when he can just open his lips like that? Jongdae quickly shook the thought out of his head.
“Take me to do what?”
“Give in to curiosity.” Joonmyun stared out wistfully at the raging water as lightning strikes lit up his face. “It’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”
Jongdae let out a rough exhale through his teeth. “It’s unreal.”
He took the deafening wind howls as an excuse to join Joonmyun at one of the windows. The hairs on his arms were on end and Jongdae wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the chill that whistled through the gaps or how they were stood so close he could almost feel Joonmyun’s body heat against his skin. He cleared his throat.
“It must be chaos out there. I bet the roads have flooded and the school’s closed. It’s crazy. What sort of storm lasts this long? It can’t be natural…”
Joonmyun shot him a side-look. “Are you…wanting to go home?”
“No! No, not at all. I...actually really like it here,” Jongdae hastily explained. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this place before. I had no idea it even existed.”
“I don’t think I could leave even if I tried,” Joonmyun breathed, steaming up the glass a little.
“I thought the same away about the city once, but now…I honestly couldn’t imagine going back.”
Their eyes connected then. It was a fleeting look that sent the butterflies in Jongdae’s abdomen a little wild while time slowed and it felt more like a few minutes than a single second.
“You’ve shaved…”
As soon as the words left his lips, Jongdae wanted to snatch them back as he cringed inside. But Joonmyun’s smoother chin had completely stolen his attention and, for some reason, he was starting to find it difficult to control what came out of his mouth. He felt the blood rush to the apples of his cheeks.
Was Joonmyun blushing too? “Oh, yeah…I didn’t fancy being a complete scruff.” He motioned to his overalls and laughed. “Next to you I look like a complete state and it’s only about to get worse.” The paint can clattered on the ledge.
“Let me help,” said Jongdae, clapping his hands together. “You’ve got to let me do something. I’ll die of boredom down there if you’re up here enjoying all the fun with the great view.”
Joonmyun raised an eyebrow. “You want to help me re-paint the tower?”
Jongdae flashed a smirk and grabbed the paintbrush from his hand. In one swift movement, he dunked the end into the paint and wiped is across his face with a mischievous bite of his tongue between his teeth.
“Well, maybe not just the tower.”
The hours faded along with the minutes and time itself evolved into a pale blur. Jongdae had never felt so content in scruffy overalls with white paint more on his skin than his clothes and a permanent smile etched onto his face, plus the laughter lines to match. Regardless of the hurricane that kept him prisoner from the real world, the lighthouse turned into more of a haven where he could forget the anxiety for starting his new job or the worry of paying off his student loan or the woes of living by himself. All of that didn’t matter when he had Joonmyun the lighthouse keeper to cheekily flick paint at or make dinner with or learn about the politics of the ocean just to hear him speak. It took more than 2 nights to finish touching up the tower and the rest of the odd DIY jobs that Jongdae was happy to help with. The building was old and falling apart and needed care and attention, after all.
And yet still the wind howled.
The sun would set and Jongdae would join Joonmyun at the top to watch the light spin and illuminate the thundering heavens outside. The beam would highlight the raindrops with pale gold, making them look like the embers of fireworks for a split second as they descended to the crashing water below. It was a wonder any ships could see it through the fog but Joonmyun reassured him the light could be seen for miles, even in the most treacherous weather.
The thunder was their orchestra and the forks of lightning were their show.
“Joonmyun-” Jongdae started, but he stopped.
The other turned his head. “What is it, Jongdae?”
He exhaled and steam rose from his lips. “It’s Monday tomorrow.”
Only the whistling gusts filled the silence.
“I know,” said Joonmyun solemnly.
Jongdae looked over and the boy had hung his head. It made him sad to think his time at the lighthouse would be over soon and, by the looks of things, Joonmyun felt the same way.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “This place, you…it’s all been an inspiration.”
Joonmyun met his eyes. “Do you really mean that?”
Jongdae chucked. “You have no idea.”
He couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to Joonmyun’s lips. With every turn of the beacon, light would flash across his mouth and tease Jongdae with the delicious flesh that, even without whiskey, he longed to taste for himself. He’d watched him for days and played in his head the idea of being held by him and touched by him and feeling his warm breath on his skin. But there was no rush. It was only the beginning.
Jongdae felt his fingers tingle. Joonmyun had shifted his hand and placed it on top.
“I’m so glad I found you. In the storm.” He shot a half-grin. “Maybe the weather wasn’t so much of a curse after all.”
Jongdae bit down on his lip.
Ahh, what the heck.
In the next moment, everything had gone dark. Jongdae’s eyes were closed and his mouth was warm against the other’s. He half-expected Joonmyun to squirm and pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, a hand worked its way up to the side of his face and through his hair and suddenly their breathing quickened as their bodies melted into each other on the floor of the tower.
Joonmyun pulled back. Even in the dim light his lips looked dark pink and plump. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because now I don’t know how I’ll let you leave.”
Jongdae laughed with relief. “Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled the other back by the scruff of his overalls and lavished his salty kisses with pleasure. Light moans escaped from his throat while wandering fingers explored every contour of his body over the thick material. It took every ounce of restraint not to tear at Joonmyun’s clothes and press against his naked flesh with the ashen sky as their only witness.
But there was no rush. They had forever.
Or so he thought.
Jongdae woke up to a stiff neck and chapped lips. The tower’s floor was freezing but Joonmyun had wrapped his arms around him all night to keep the worst of the chill out. Only the streams of old 1950s newspapers they’d used to cover the surfaces while they painted were within arm’s reach for a make-shift quilt and, unsurprisingly, the thin paper didn’t work so well at insulating their body heat.
For a moment he thought the storm had finally stopped but it was only his weary, half-asleep state that tricked his hopes. Rain was still hammering against the glass.
His eyes flew to his watch and his stomach dropped.
It was Monday. It was 6am. He had a job to get to.
At lightning speed, he rushed down the winding staircase to the bedroom on the second floor. It was a relief to peel off the paint-spattered overalls since they chaffed his skin in unlikely places and smelled half a century old. Just as he was shoving his feet into his socks, a sleepy Joonmyun appeared in the doorway.
“What’s happening? Where are you going?”
“I have work in a couple of hours, remember? I have to go - storm or no storm.” He paused as an idea occurred to him. “Come out with me.”
Joonmyun stopped rubbing his eyes. “What?”
“We’ve been cooped up in here for days. Let’s go and have some fun before it ends,” Jongdae suggested excitedly.
Joonmyun reached forward with a forlorn expression to link their fingers. “It doesn’t have to end.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Jongdae. “I meant the storm, not us. You know I’ll come back, right?” He tugged at Joonmyun’s hands. “Please?”
“You’re crazy - it’s too dangerous! You can’t leave.” He desperately pulled Jongdae closer with a tighter grip.
“Don’t worry. I’ll run for it! C’mon!”
He dragged Joonmyun down the steps to the looming front door where they paused. Even through the heavy wood, they could hear the wind roar and thunder growl menacingly.
“Ready?” asked Jongdae.
“Not to let you go.”
He rolled his eyes and flashed a grin. “Stop being so dramatic.”
As soon as he twisted the doorknob, it flew open from the gale-force strength outside. Sheets of water streamed through the open doorway and drenched the floor and welcome mat. Jongdae flipped his meagre hood over this head and ducked his chin low while he grabbed at Joonmyun’s hand and hauled him into the chaos.
They trudged over the slippery rocks and waded a little through wet sand to make it onto the beach where Jongdae stopped and opened his arms wide.
“See? It’s not that bad!” He could barely hear his own voice over the strong gusts. Within seconds his teeth were beginning to chatter and the lightning was putting him on edge so he edged closer to Joonmyun and hugged his chest.
“What are we doing out here? It’s freezing!”
Jongdae looked up at his rain-speckled face. “I just…wanted to kiss you in the rain.”
Even with hair slicked wet against his skull and pale skin flushed with patches of red from the icy wind, Joonmyun still managed to look beautiful. If there really were hundreds of butterflies in his stomach, they’d be dancing while the falling water soaked their warms mouths as they moved against each other. Jongdae’s tongue weaved between his lips and under his teeth and every nerve ending sparked with electricity; from the fingers laced into Joonmyun’s hair to the tip of his sand-soaked toes. Even the hazardous weather couldn’t keep their bodies apart.
Joonmyun’s breath tickled his skin. “Please don’t forget me.”
Jongdae, still with his eyes closed, felt his eyebrows knit together. “Forget you? What are you-?”
But when he stepped back and opened them wide, Joonmyun was gone.
The rain stopped.
The thunder ceased.
The sun broke out from behind the clouds.
And there was no more lighthouse.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, ankle deep in wet sand with sunbeams making his eyes sting and gulls screaming in his ear from above. Everything had gone numb so suddenly.
“J-…Joonmyun?”
But there was no Joonmyun. The ragged rocks that hugged the lighthouse like a nest were surrounding empty space. Dog-walkers and joggers were passing by without a single care in the world, as though nothing had happened. Nobody’s eyes flickered to the spot where he’d spent the last few days of his life, nobody’s heads turned in shock at the missing monument on their coastline. It was as though it was never there to begin with.
Limbs numb with the cold and swallowing through a dry throat, Jongdae managed to stumble to the top of the beach in a state of shock. The entire walk home, he kept pinching the skin on his hands and arms and even his thighs through thick denim to check he wasn’t dreaming.
This can’t be happening…the lighthouse…it can’t have just disappeared...
And Joonmyun’s last words haunted his fresh memories.
“Please don’t forget me.”
When Jongdae reached his front gate, he was greeted by a whistling postman shoving letters through his door. Without even thinking, he padded up the path with dripping clothes and the man turned around to look at him with mild shock.
“The lighthouse…” he croaked. “What happened to it? Where did it go?”
The man’s forehead crinkled. “Lighthouse? There hasn’t been a lighthouse on the shore for decades. It was destroyed years ago. In a really terrible storm, they say.”
At the sight of Jongdae’s pale face dropping, he added, “If you go to the library, they have tonnes of archives stored in the basement; old newspapers and stuff. You’ll find everything you need there, I reckon.”
He shot Jongdae a side-look as he passed but continued whistling once he closed the gate. No doubt he’d entertain his colleagues with the tale of a soaked drunk mumbling delirious questions about a lighthouse that didn’t even exist anymore.
There hasn’t been a lighthouse on the shore for decades…
Jongdae shook his head. “No…this can’t be happening…”
The weather may have calmed, but a tempest still raged deep in his heart.
How he managed to survive his first day at the boarding school, he had no idea. Jongdae could barely make out the faces of his new students and fellow staff while plaguing himself with the thought of Joonmyun every minute of the day. Every few minutes he considered sitting down and putting his head between his knees to stop the world from spinning. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was finally losing touch with reality and imagining things.
Or maybe…the lighthouse came back.
As soon as his day was over, Jongdae rushed to the library in the centre of town. Just as the postman had described, the basement held everything he needed. With a little help from a tricky computer system and a haughty librarian, he managed to find the newspaper articles he was looking for.
Newspapers from 1950s.
They each told the same story to make his fingers shake. A lighthouse had, indeed, stood proudly at the coast, like a pale guardian for passing marine vessels and a symbol of the seaside town. But in the winter of 1959, a record-breaking storm had hit the shore and damaged the already crumbling structure beyond repair. There were black and white photographs printed with people posing excitedly in front of it while ships sailed past in the background and the sun shone brightly on the white tower.
But the real shock was yet to come.
A young man by the name of Kim Joonmyun had died in that storm. A lightning strike to the collapsing building had sent the home’s power into haywire and electrocuted the boy who’d worked so hard to keep the lighthouse going during the disastrous weather. Jongdae’s temples began to sweat as his gaze found a single photograph printed in the local broadsheet.
It was Joonmyun. Just as Jongdae remembered him - the same hair, the same overalls…the same lighthouse.
But over 50 years ago.
Jongdae returned to the beach every day.
He stood on the same spot and looked out over the rock faces and waited for the lighthouse to appear. In sunshine, rain, hail and snow - he waited for it to come back to him.
It didn’t.
“Mr Kim? Are you alright?”
Jongdae had paused his hand on the whiteboard. The class had gone silent. Every face of his students was staring directly at him with apprehension. Something had rumbled from the darkening clouds looming outside the window. Something had echoed through the school’s halls and every vein in his body. Something had awoken the tempest in his heart.
Thunder.
There hadn’t been a storm in almost a year. Not since…
His eyes flew to the clock ticking on the wall. His class still had 10 minutes to go.
Ahh, what the heck.
“Class is dismissed!” he shouted, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair as the class howled with delight. “We’re finishing early today. I have to go. It’s very important. No loitering in the corridors!”
He’d never run so fast. Jongdae flew down the hallway and dodged lunch ladies on their way to the canteen and wandering staff members and jumped onto his scooter in the car park. He cursed at every car on the road that slowed him down while the heavens opened and rain fell like a waterfall. The thunder was getting louder. The lightning was getting brighter.
The beach was getting closer.
By the time he pulled up next to the coast, the rain was so hard he could barely see. His clothes were soaked through and clinging painfully to his skin, but he didn’t care. He stumbled over the shingle and sucked cold, briny air into his lungs. It was a struggle to walk against the wind and stay upright. It seemed like nature, just like before, was determined to sweep him off his feet. Icy water flew at his face. His knees stung with every step. He kept walking.
As he neared the water, the ocean spray leapt into the air and, through gaps in the billowing fog, a single structure materialised in the haze.
A lighthouse.
Other fics: Supernova [XiuHan/57k], Porcelain [SeKai/SuChen/38k]