Super Junior {Hankyung/Heechul ; Timeless (3/5)}
Title: Timeless (3/5)
Fandom: Super Junior (AU, !future)
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 3,453
Rating: R
Summary: Heechul has just had the worst day ever, in the world. Honestly, he doesn't think that it could possibly get worse than this. That, however, is something that he'll come to regret articulating when he ends up a long way from home, in a world where life is a fight for survival.
A/N: Remember when I said, "oh, you think it's weird now? Wait until later"? YEAH THIS IS WHAT I MEANT :|
Timeless (3/5)
When he woke up -- he was getting good at waking up -- he first thought that he was home, in as much as it was a world that he knew, in the arms of Hwanghi. It was an odd, disconnected moment, which soon righted itself when he realised that Hwanghi never smelt of slightly stale sweat and trapped sunlight -- that was the only way he could describe it, that musk of skin and something metallic underneath, a scent that Heechul had to stop himself from burying his nose in Hankyung's shoulder to smell. No, Hwanghi only ever smelt of that sharp aftershave, whichever one he had used, Heechul had been dating him for a year and a half and had never found out what scent Hwanghi had used. Not for the first time since he'd been dumped in this place, he wondered how they'd lasted up until Hwanghi had broken it off anyway.
Hankyung was holding him close, one arm tight around his waist, the other around the top of his back. When Heechul tried to wriggle away, Hankyung's eyes flew open and there was a brief moment where he didn't seem to know who Heechul was, their eyes meeting; warmth spread into the brown where once confusion had been and Hankyung smiled. Heechul's stomach fairly flipped.
It was all very well and good crushing on your rescuer, he told himself as Hankyung packed up the tent, Heechul's eyes lingering in his arms and hands as he buckled it closed. Hankyung had saved him from a burning death, had even wasted food, water, supplies, on making sure Heechul stayed alive. Hankyung was keeping him close, even promising to protect him. No reason had been given, Hankyung was just doing it, out of his own free will. Hankyung was also good looking, had a nice body that he apparently liked to press Heechul against, and had a smile which lit his eyes and turned knee cartilage to the consistency of wallpaper paste. Who wouldn't crush on someone like that?
Hankyung had saved his life. It was perfectly natural. Sure, he wasn't exactly one of those girls in old age Westerns, throwing himself at Hankyung, gushing about just wanting to show his thanks. It wasn't like that. But things like this, feelings like this, they were perfectly natural. Hankyung represented life to him.
Suddenly, Hankyung jammed the hat down over his head and then tweaked his nose. His angry cries stopped in his throat as he looked up into Hankyung's smile, more of a grin. He cursed out loud at his flaming cheeks and then cursed at Hankyung, who just grinned through it.
Up on the surface, Hankyung didn't bother taking his arm to lead him. Heechul followed him anyway. It was a bit like being the prisoner of someone, being broken to follow blindly, except Heechul hadn't been broken in any way, and if Hankyung was his prison guard, then he wasn't a very good one. Their pace wasn't punishing, he allowed regular stops, gave Heechul water if he sensed that he needed it, Heechul didn't even have to ask. He was a very thoughtful prison guard.
When midday seemed imminent, Hankyung took his arm and led him into a building, one of the few that still had part of a roof, and they sheltered there until the sun had passed the mid-point, the highest point in the sky. They sat on the floor, legs out, arms just touching. Then they came out, continued walking, until they came to some place that Hankyung decided was safe for the night, somewhere with a basement or a house which still had what could be considered to be a room, with four walls and a door, one way in and out always. Hankyung would pull him close, and Heechul would sleep in his arms.
It was like that day after day, a routine that they fell into, a routine that perhaps Heechul was simply intruding on. The only thing that stopped it being boring was that Heechul had never seen any of it before, not that there were much to see. They never came across any other humans, anyone like those people Heechul had come across on his second day in this -- world? time? No living thing at all. Eventually, Heechul grew sick of silence. Even with Hankyung next to him, this world stayed silent. Hankyung didn't seem like the talkative type, or perhaps it was just because he knew that Heechul wouldn't be able to understand him, but Heechul had grown up in a place that was constantly alive with noise.
So Heechul got sick and started talking. He kept up a constant stream of complaints, whining about his feet and the heat and the sweat and how his hair was disgusting -- an understatement to say the least -- and how he needed a bath desperately. Hankyung just smiled at him through this, a helpless smile, confused but aware that there was probably a joke that he was missing. Heechul moved onto insulting him every possible way. Hankyung just kept smiling through it, making Heechul do it more for the sheer amusement of it. It also distanced him a little so that he wasn't quite so affected by that lost grin.
A week passed in this way. He was just telling Hankyung that he would no longer sleep in the same bed as him because Hankyung "stank like a backed up toilet" -- a lie for two reasons, as Hankyung didn't seem to smell at all, and because Heechul was now afraid of freezing in the night without Hankyung there -- when Hankyung suddenly disappeared. That was how it had seemed to Heechul. He had been a couple of steps ahead, turned, and Hankyung was suddenly no longer in the street with him.
It was embarrassing how easily the terror broke through him. For a second, he stood there. Then his mind was screaming at him, telling him to get to shelter, or stay out in the street in case Hankyung came back, or make for high ground in case something came: check the sun's position, check for people, check for those monsters. So many things, his brain telling to do things all at the exact same time. Hankyung had seemed to know what he was doing; without Hankyung there, Heechul panicked. Living his life in the city had not prepared him for this situation.
Then Hankyung's head popped up from the ground.
Heechul just stared at him. He was grinning as he came up from a trapdoor, apparently built into the street itself, though when Heechul looked closer, there were the clear signs of a building once being there, although it had been decimated, so that all that was left were traces of the foundations. Hankyung said something, happily, urgently, rushing forward to take Heechul's arm to lead him into the hole in the ground. Heechul brought his fist back and hit Hankyung in the jaw.
It hurt his hand and arm more than it hurt Hankyung, but his point was made. Hankyung had disappeared without a trace, without warning, and Heechul had been scared. He could admit it, here, to Hankyung, who couldn't understand him. He couldn't understand Heechul's words, but he could understand actions. After that first blow, Heechul hit him twice more, softer, desperately against his chest. Hankyung made a soothing noise and wrapped his arms around him, fingers brushing at the back of his neck. After a moment or two, he stepped back and took Heechul's arm again, movements less frantic, softer somehow.
Down the trapdoor was a warehouse of some sort. Something kept a strip of lights alight down the center, an unseen generator, illuminating a series of shelves, dried meat and fish packaged by the thousand. Spices and pickled vegetables and other things that could be kept for years without getting past a use-by date lined the walls, and over by the far wall were huge vats. Hankyung went there first, kneeling down and pulling from his backpack what seemed like an endless amount of those flasks. Heechul had noticed that over the past couple of days, Hankyung had been limiting their consumption of the water. Now he knelt down and began to refill each one from the vats of water.
They stocked up on everything that they needed, and Heechul looked at Hankyung with renewed interest. That much water could not have been easy to carry, and yet he managed it. Piled in next to the water was some food, meat and other essentials. On the way past, he picked up a couple of lemons, one of which he tossed to Heechul. He caught it, surprised. Protection against scurvy, no doubt.
He'd never really thought about that. He wasn't going hungry, he wasn't really going thirsty, yet he'd never thought about where it all came from. There had been no apparent source of the food and water before, and now, he could see that this source would run out, at some point. What would Hankyung do then? He had to have found this by accident. Perhaps it wouldn't run out in this lifetime. Heechul hoped so; slightly selfishly at that, as he didn't know how long he'd be here.
Now that they had food, they were able to wander around some more. They did that for two weeks, until there was a need to restock, and they returned to their underground warehouse. There seemed to be no need for the movement. They could have lived easily in that underground place, and while Hankyung seemed to know the land well, could track where they were by the remains of building, Heechul was completely at a loss. He just had to trust Hankyung.
His back was healing. Whatever Hankyung had rubbed into his back -- Heechul was too scared to ask -- had wore off after the first two days, and the pain had steadily gotten worse until after five days, he woke up and didn't think he could move. Hankyung had understood, or at least heard the angry pain in his voice at his cursing, and had made him turn over. Then he pushed Heechul's shirt -- now totally filthy -- up and removed the bandages to have a look.
Heechul had held his breath through the whole thing. Knowing now, as he did, what Hankyung's hands looked like, what the arms attached those hands looked like, how the general package was, it was hard to stay calm as Hankyung inspected the cut on his back. This time, when Hankyung rubbed some more of the numbing balm onto the wound, the pain barely registered. Instead, all he could feel was Hankyung's fingers against sensitive new skin.
That had been after five days. Now Hankyung checked the wound every day just to make sure that there was no infection, and Heechul shifted uncomfortably every time. Oh, he was so screwed.
The problem was, Hankyung wasn't helping him. He still hugged Heechul close while they slept so that sometimes Heechul woke to find Hankyung's chest pressed to his back, arm slung over his waist, and it was too close to a couple-esque pose for Heechul to appreciate. Now if Hankyung wanted his attention for something, he took his hand. He was always touching Heechul's neck or face, jamming the hat down with this fond sort of look on his face, as if it was a private joke to him now. And he'd began talking too, speaking that strange Mandarin with a rather low voice, quiet from disuse; that was the worst thing. When Hankyung spoke, Heechul fell silent, focusing his mind to stop himself from thinking the wrong kind of thoughts, thoughts that would land him in trouble.
The middle of a red desert and yet he still managed to crush on someone.
He counted the days almost obsessively. A week had turned into two, then three; now he was nearing two months and was beginning to lose count. His skin had grown dark, though not as dark as Hankyung's, though some of that colour was directly related to the build up of the dust on his skin. Every so often he was able to use a flask of water to wash the worst of the dust from his hair, but he hadn't been able to bathe. He digusted himself, although Hankyung didn't seem to notice. Hankyung didn't even seem to get dirty. Sometimes a thin layer of the dust would build up on any exposed skin, but this was easily washed away; he was always careful with how much water he used in this endeavour, using the bare minimum. No doubt since Heechul had joined him, Hankyung had needed to go to his underground storeroom three times as much.
But a few flasks of water were not enough for Heechul, who had lived in a time of nightly showers. When, therefore, Hankyung led him out of the brickwork of what seemed like a lost city to a small lake, Heechul had been rather excited. The water was, no doubt, not able to be drunk, but there was no dust resting on the surface. Perhaps here, finally, he would be able to bathe.
And he was. Hankyung led him down to the water's edge, where the water was revealed to be startingly clear. If the rest of the place hadn't been so bizarre, Heechul would have been shocked. As it was, he just looked hopefully at Hankyung, who had motioned to the water with a reassuring smile.
Heechul stripped down to his underwear, now rather digusting, and then glanced at Hankyung, who stared blankly back. A flush started up Heechul's neck, which he struggled to fight down with his usual annoyance, and then, as if to prove that it was nothing, stripped completely naked, and then quickly got into the pool, cold as it was, to try to gain some sort of cover.
When he looked back, Hankyung was looking resolutely in the other direction. It made him grin, just a little, and he kicked off and swam to the other side of the pool, before coming back. Then he stopped, suddenly, and scrambled for a foothold. He slipped on the rock that he managed to find and went under once, coming back up spluttering and being forced to push backwards before Hankyung could touch him. There would be no way to explain that the reason he'd been so thrown was because he'd looked up at the wrong time, just before Hankyung slipped naked into the water. Oh no, there was no way to explain his reaction to that.
Instead, he ignored the confused expression on Hankyung's face and swam to the other side of the pool again, where he stopped. He splashed the water in his face. He really needed to get hold of himself. Hankyung was the only thing keeping him alive in this place, this hellhole. Hankyung was the only person who knew where food and water was. Hankyung was not someone that he could ever have a relationship with, so he needed to get over it.
He was just thinking that when water suddenly cascaded over him. Pushing his hair back from his face, now soaking wet, he heard laughter -- Hankyung. He was practically doubled over with it, chin in the water. "That was not funny," said Heechul in a low tone. Hankyung, who hadn't understood, beamed at him, right up until Heechul splashed him straight in his stupid face.
They messed around for a few minutes, laughing at each other, and then Hankyung went very still. It was like he'd just been frozen in ice. Heechul fell still too, staring at him, because that was honestly a little freaky. Hankyung turned his head suddenly, a jerky movement, and Heechul was reminded of a dog listening out for something in his nearby environment. There was a long pause, before Hankyung suddenly grabbed his wrist and started to pull him.
"What the--" began Heechul, but was interrupted by Hankyung hissing at him and then clapping a hand over his mouth. Back home, Heechul would have shrieked or tried to bite the hand. However, this was different. Hankyung touched him a lot, but Hankyung was never threatening, not unless it mattered. Heechul fell still, Hankyung pressing him against the edge of the pool, low in the water, his head turned to the side as he listened for whatever only he could hear. Heechul's hearing was not nearly as good; all he could hear was their breathing and the movement of the water.
Suddenly Hankyung began pushing him to the edge of the pool, hissing stuff at him, things that Heechul didn't have a hope of understanding. On dry land again, Heechul didn't even have time to consider being embarrassed at being naked before Hankyung was pushing his clothes at him, still hissing. Heechul took them, slightly confused but at least understanding that there was a need for haste. He winced as he pulled his clothing back on; it was still filthy. Hankyung forced the hat back on, a little too roughly, and Heechul opened his mouth to complain when suddenly he heard it. Voices.
There were a small amount of buildings a little down the road. Hankyung pulled him towards them and then behind, forcing his head down so that they couldn't be seen from the hole in the wall that had once been a window. Hankyung hunkered down over him, holding his hand over his mouth. It soon became hot and claustrophobic, but Heechul didn't dare move as the voices got closer. They passed by their 'window' without noticing them, and continued until they were out of Heechul's earshot, though probably not Hankyung's.
Heechul would have sighed if he could, but Hankyung's hand was still over his mouth. He struggled a little and Hankyung let him go, but put his finger over his lip to signify that Heechul should continue being quiet. Then, pulling his pack back on his back and taking Heechul's hand, he led him carefully from the building, checking all directions before he did so. There was a moment's hesitation, then Hankyung led him to the left.
They ended up scaling a building and looking down at what must have once been a crossroads. Down below was a group of people, all chattering happily in the same tongue as Hankyung; Heechul saw him wince once or twice and wondered what was happening. He squinted against the sun, which was, at least, beginning to set. The group below seemed to be eating, crowded around something on the ground. He thought it was a fire, although there was no smoke. After a moment or two, a hole broke in them, and he got his first look at whatever was on the floor; a body, burnt beyond recognition. The arm was outflung. As Heechul watched, one of the men of the group bent down, cut the lower arm from the rest of it and then sunk his teeth into the flesh.
Heechul gagged, just about managing to stay quiet, turning away from the scene on the ground. Hankyung put his hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair just a little, but he didn't turn away for a very long time. When he did so, face turned away from Heechul, Heechul looked up, to look more closely at those in the group. There were a couple of different people, but the one who seemed to be leading them was certainly the same man who had wounded Heechul. He stared at him for a long time, memorizing his features, the cruel twist of his mouth.
They left a pile of bones and small pieces of flesh on the ground when they left. Darkness was beginning to fully fall now, and Hankyung and Heechul needed to get somewhere where they would be protected from the wind quickly. Hankyung was silent and somber as he led Heechul to another basement and began lighting the candles. Heechul lay the quilts out, shaken by what he had seen. That had been his fate, he realised now. If he'd been left there like he was supposed to have been, he'd have burnt to death; why would they use fires when they could use the most natural resource, the sun, to cook their meat? He gagged again, and Hankyung turned to him, worried.
"Heechul?" He put his hand on Heechul's shoulder, and Heechul turned his head away. Hankyung could have easily left him there. Hankyung didn't know who he was, what kind of a person he was; he could have eaten him himself. Instead he had chosen to save him, feed him with his own food, even. Heechul's gratitude was overwhelming, but he wasn't one to left it show. Instead, he clung just that little harder to Hankyung as the other man slept.
Fandom: Super Junior (AU, !future)
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Word count: 3,453
Rating: R
Summary: Heechul has just had the worst day ever, in the world. Honestly, he doesn't think that it could possibly get worse than this. That, however, is something that he'll come to regret articulating when he ends up a long way from home, in a world where life is a fight for survival.
A/N: Remember when I said, "oh, you think it's weird now? Wait until later"? YEAH THIS IS WHAT I MEANT :|
Timeless (3/5)
When he woke up -- he was getting good at waking up -- he first thought that he was home, in as much as it was a world that he knew, in the arms of Hwanghi. It was an odd, disconnected moment, which soon righted itself when he realised that Hwanghi never smelt of slightly stale sweat and trapped sunlight -- that was the only way he could describe it, that musk of skin and something metallic underneath, a scent that Heechul had to stop himself from burying his nose in Hankyung's shoulder to smell. No, Hwanghi only ever smelt of that sharp aftershave, whichever one he had used, Heechul had been dating him for a year and a half and had never found out what scent Hwanghi had used. Not for the first time since he'd been dumped in this place, he wondered how they'd lasted up until Hwanghi had broken it off anyway.
Hankyung was holding him close, one arm tight around his waist, the other around the top of his back. When Heechul tried to wriggle away, Hankyung's eyes flew open and there was a brief moment where he didn't seem to know who Heechul was, their eyes meeting; warmth spread into the brown where once confusion had been and Hankyung smiled. Heechul's stomach fairly flipped.
It was all very well and good crushing on your rescuer, he told himself as Hankyung packed up the tent, Heechul's eyes lingering in his arms and hands as he buckled it closed. Hankyung had saved him from a burning death, had even wasted food, water, supplies, on making sure Heechul stayed alive. Hankyung was keeping him close, even promising to protect him. No reason had been given, Hankyung was just doing it, out of his own free will. Hankyung was also good looking, had a nice body that he apparently liked to press Heechul against, and had a smile which lit his eyes and turned knee cartilage to the consistency of wallpaper paste. Who wouldn't crush on someone like that?
Hankyung had saved his life. It was perfectly natural. Sure, he wasn't exactly one of those girls in old age Westerns, throwing himself at Hankyung, gushing about just wanting to show his thanks. It wasn't like that. But things like this, feelings like this, they were perfectly natural. Hankyung represented life to him.
Suddenly, Hankyung jammed the hat down over his head and then tweaked his nose. His angry cries stopped in his throat as he looked up into Hankyung's smile, more of a grin. He cursed out loud at his flaming cheeks and then cursed at Hankyung, who just grinned through it.
Up on the surface, Hankyung didn't bother taking his arm to lead him. Heechul followed him anyway. It was a bit like being the prisoner of someone, being broken to follow blindly, except Heechul hadn't been broken in any way, and if Hankyung was his prison guard, then he wasn't a very good one. Their pace wasn't punishing, he allowed regular stops, gave Heechul water if he sensed that he needed it, Heechul didn't even have to ask. He was a very thoughtful prison guard.
When midday seemed imminent, Hankyung took his arm and led him into a building, one of the few that still had part of a roof, and they sheltered there until the sun had passed the mid-point, the highest point in the sky. They sat on the floor, legs out, arms just touching. Then they came out, continued walking, until they came to some place that Hankyung decided was safe for the night, somewhere with a basement or a house which still had what could be considered to be a room, with four walls and a door, one way in and out always. Hankyung would pull him close, and Heechul would sleep in his arms.
It was like that day after day, a routine that they fell into, a routine that perhaps Heechul was simply intruding on. The only thing that stopped it being boring was that Heechul had never seen any of it before, not that there were much to see. They never came across any other humans, anyone like those people Heechul had come across on his second day in this -- world? time? No living thing at all. Eventually, Heechul grew sick of silence. Even with Hankyung next to him, this world stayed silent. Hankyung didn't seem like the talkative type, or perhaps it was just because he knew that Heechul wouldn't be able to understand him, but Heechul had grown up in a place that was constantly alive with noise.
So Heechul got sick and started talking. He kept up a constant stream of complaints, whining about his feet and the heat and the sweat and how his hair was disgusting -- an understatement to say the least -- and how he needed a bath desperately. Hankyung just smiled at him through this, a helpless smile, confused but aware that there was probably a joke that he was missing. Heechul moved onto insulting him every possible way. Hankyung just kept smiling through it, making Heechul do it more for the sheer amusement of it. It also distanced him a little so that he wasn't quite so affected by that lost grin.
A week passed in this way. He was just telling Hankyung that he would no longer sleep in the same bed as him because Hankyung "stank like a backed up toilet" -- a lie for two reasons, as Hankyung didn't seem to smell at all, and because Heechul was now afraid of freezing in the night without Hankyung there -- when Hankyung suddenly disappeared. That was how it had seemed to Heechul. He had been a couple of steps ahead, turned, and Hankyung was suddenly no longer in the street with him.
It was embarrassing how easily the terror broke through him. For a second, he stood there. Then his mind was screaming at him, telling him to get to shelter, or stay out in the street in case Hankyung came back, or make for high ground in case something came: check the sun's position, check for people, check for those monsters. So many things, his brain telling to do things all at the exact same time. Hankyung had seemed to know what he was doing; without Hankyung there, Heechul panicked. Living his life in the city had not prepared him for this situation.
Then Hankyung's head popped up from the ground.
Heechul just stared at him. He was grinning as he came up from a trapdoor, apparently built into the street itself, though when Heechul looked closer, there were the clear signs of a building once being there, although it had been decimated, so that all that was left were traces of the foundations. Hankyung said something, happily, urgently, rushing forward to take Heechul's arm to lead him into the hole in the ground. Heechul brought his fist back and hit Hankyung in the jaw.
It hurt his hand and arm more than it hurt Hankyung, but his point was made. Hankyung had disappeared without a trace, without warning, and Heechul had been scared. He could admit it, here, to Hankyung, who couldn't understand him. He couldn't understand Heechul's words, but he could understand actions. After that first blow, Heechul hit him twice more, softer, desperately against his chest. Hankyung made a soothing noise and wrapped his arms around him, fingers brushing at the back of his neck. After a moment or two, he stepped back and took Heechul's arm again, movements less frantic, softer somehow.
Down the trapdoor was a warehouse of some sort. Something kept a strip of lights alight down the center, an unseen generator, illuminating a series of shelves, dried meat and fish packaged by the thousand. Spices and pickled vegetables and other things that could be kept for years without getting past a use-by date lined the walls, and over by the far wall were huge vats. Hankyung went there first, kneeling down and pulling from his backpack what seemed like an endless amount of those flasks. Heechul had noticed that over the past couple of days, Hankyung had been limiting their consumption of the water. Now he knelt down and began to refill each one from the vats of water.
They stocked up on everything that they needed, and Heechul looked at Hankyung with renewed interest. That much water could not have been easy to carry, and yet he managed it. Piled in next to the water was some food, meat and other essentials. On the way past, he picked up a couple of lemons, one of which he tossed to Heechul. He caught it, surprised. Protection against scurvy, no doubt.
He'd never really thought about that. He wasn't going hungry, he wasn't really going thirsty, yet he'd never thought about where it all came from. There had been no apparent source of the food and water before, and now, he could see that this source would run out, at some point. What would Hankyung do then? He had to have found this by accident. Perhaps it wouldn't run out in this lifetime. Heechul hoped so; slightly selfishly at that, as he didn't know how long he'd be here.
Now that they had food, they were able to wander around some more. They did that for two weeks, until there was a need to restock, and they returned to their underground warehouse. There seemed to be no need for the movement. They could have lived easily in that underground place, and while Hankyung seemed to know the land well, could track where they were by the remains of building, Heechul was completely at a loss. He just had to trust Hankyung.
His back was healing. Whatever Hankyung had rubbed into his back -- Heechul was too scared to ask -- had wore off after the first two days, and the pain had steadily gotten worse until after five days, he woke up and didn't think he could move. Hankyung had understood, or at least heard the angry pain in his voice at his cursing, and had made him turn over. Then he pushed Heechul's shirt -- now totally filthy -- up and removed the bandages to have a look.
Heechul had held his breath through the whole thing. Knowing now, as he did, what Hankyung's hands looked like, what the arms attached those hands looked like, how the general package was, it was hard to stay calm as Hankyung inspected the cut on his back. This time, when Hankyung rubbed some more of the numbing balm onto the wound, the pain barely registered. Instead, all he could feel was Hankyung's fingers against sensitive new skin.
That had been after five days. Now Hankyung checked the wound every day just to make sure that there was no infection, and Heechul shifted uncomfortably every time. Oh, he was so screwed.
The problem was, Hankyung wasn't helping him. He still hugged Heechul close while they slept so that sometimes Heechul woke to find Hankyung's chest pressed to his back, arm slung over his waist, and it was too close to a couple-esque pose for Heechul to appreciate. Now if Hankyung wanted his attention for something, he took his hand. He was always touching Heechul's neck or face, jamming the hat down with this fond sort of look on his face, as if it was a private joke to him now. And he'd began talking too, speaking that strange Mandarin with a rather low voice, quiet from disuse; that was the worst thing. When Hankyung spoke, Heechul fell silent, focusing his mind to stop himself from thinking the wrong kind of thoughts, thoughts that would land him in trouble.
The middle of a red desert and yet he still managed to crush on someone.
He counted the days almost obsessively. A week had turned into two, then three; now he was nearing two months and was beginning to lose count. His skin had grown dark, though not as dark as Hankyung's, though some of that colour was directly related to the build up of the dust on his skin. Every so often he was able to use a flask of water to wash the worst of the dust from his hair, but he hadn't been able to bathe. He digusted himself, although Hankyung didn't seem to notice. Hankyung didn't even seem to get dirty. Sometimes a thin layer of the dust would build up on any exposed skin, but this was easily washed away; he was always careful with how much water he used in this endeavour, using the bare minimum. No doubt since Heechul had joined him, Hankyung had needed to go to his underground storeroom three times as much.
But a few flasks of water were not enough for Heechul, who had lived in a time of nightly showers. When, therefore, Hankyung led him out of the brickwork of what seemed like a lost city to a small lake, Heechul had been rather excited. The water was, no doubt, not able to be drunk, but there was no dust resting on the surface. Perhaps here, finally, he would be able to bathe.
And he was. Hankyung led him down to the water's edge, where the water was revealed to be startingly clear. If the rest of the place hadn't been so bizarre, Heechul would have been shocked. As it was, he just looked hopefully at Hankyung, who had motioned to the water with a reassuring smile.
Heechul stripped down to his underwear, now rather digusting, and then glanced at Hankyung, who stared blankly back. A flush started up Heechul's neck, which he struggled to fight down with his usual annoyance, and then, as if to prove that it was nothing, stripped completely naked, and then quickly got into the pool, cold as it was, to try to gain some sort of cover.
When he looked back, Hankyung was looking resolutely in the other direction. It made him grin, just a little, and he kicked off and swam to the other side of the pool, before coming back. Then he stopped, suddenly, and scrambled for a foothold. He slipped on the rock that he managed to find and went under once, coming back up spluttering and being forced to push backwards before Hankyung could touch him. There would be no way to explain that the reason he'd been so thrown was because he'd looked up at the wrong time, just before Hankyung slipped naked into the water. Oh no, there was no way to explain his reaction to that.
Instead, he ignored the confused expression on Hankyung's face and swam to the other side of the pool again, where he stopped. He splashed the water in his face. He really needed to get hold of himself. Hankyung was the only thing keeping him alive in this place, this hellhole. Hankyung was the only person who knew where food and water was. Hankyung was not someone that he could ever have a relationship with, so he needed to get over it.
He was just thinking that when water suddenly cascaded over him. Pushing his hair back from his face, now soaking wet, he heard laughter -- Hankyung. He was practically doubled over with it, chin in the water. "That was not funny," said Heechul in a low tone. Hankyung, who hadn't understood, beamed at him, right up until Heechul splashed him straight in his stupid face.
They messed around for a few minutes, laughing at each other, and then Hankyung went very still. It was like he'd just been frozen in ice. Heechul fell still too, staring at him, because that was honestly a little freaky. Hankyung turned his head suddenly, a jerky movement, and Heechul was reminded of a dog listening out for something in his nearby environment. There was a long pause, before Hankyung suddenly grabbed his wrist and started to pull him.
"What the--" began Heechul, but was interrupted by Hankyung hissing at him and then clapping a hand over his mouth. Back home, Heechul would have shrieked or tried to bite the hand. However, this was different. Hankyung touched him a lot, but Hankyung was never threatening, not unless it mattered. Heechul fell still, Hankyung pressing him against the edge of the pool, low in the water, his head turned to the side as he listened for whatever only he could hear. Heechul's hearing was not nearly as good; all he could hear was their breathing and the movement of the water.
Suddenly Hankyung began pushing him to the edge of the pool, hissing stuff at him, things that Heechul didn't have a hope of understanding. On dry land again, Heechul didn't even have time to consider being embarrassed at being naked before Hankyung was pushing his clothes at him, still hissing. Heechul took them, slightly confused but at least understanding that there was a need for haste. He winced as he pulled his clothing back on; it was still filthy. Hankyung forced the hat back on, a little too roughly, and Heechul opened his mouth to complain when suddenly he heard it. Voices.
There were a small amount of buildings a little down the road. Hankyung pulled him towards them and then behind, forcing his head down so that they couldn't be seen from the hole in the wall that had once been a window. Hankyung hunkered down over him, holding his hand over his mouth. It soon became hot and claustrophobic, but Heechul didn't dare move as the voices got closer. They passed by their 'window' without noticing them, and continued until they were out of Heechul's earshot, though probably not Hankyung's.
Heechul would have sighed if he could, but Hankyung's hand was still over his mouth. He struggled a little and Hankyung let him go, but put his finger over his lip to signify that Heechul should continue being quiet. Then, pulling his pack back on his back and taking Heechul's hand, he led him carefully from the building, checking all directions before he did so. There was a moment's hesitation, then Hankyung led him to the left.
They ended up scaling a building and looking down at what must have once been a crossroads. Down below was a group of people, all chattering happily in the same tongue as Hankyung; Heechul saw him wince once or twice and wondered what was happening. He squinted against the sun, which was, at least, beginning to set. The group below seemed to be eating, crowded around something on the ground. He thought it was a fire, although there was no smoke. After a moment or two, a hole broke in them, and he got his first look at whatever was on the floor; a body, burnt beyond recognition. The arm was outflung. As Heechul watched, one of the men of the group bent down, cut the lower arm from the rest of it and then sunk his teeth into the flesh.
Heechul gagged, just about managing to stay quiet, turning away from the scene on the ground. Hankyung put his hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair just a little, but he didn't turn away for a very long time. When he did so, face turned away from Heechul, Heechul looked up, to look more closely at those in the group. There were a couple of different people, but the one who seemed to be leading them was certainly the same man who had wounded Heechul. He stared at him for a long time, memorizing his features, the cruel twist of his mouth.
They left a pile of bones and small pieces of flesh on the ground when they left. Darkness was beginning to fully fall now, and Hankyung and Heechul needed to get somewhere where they would be protected from the wind quickly. Hankyung was silent and somber as he led Heechul to another basement and began lighting the candles. Heechul lay the quilts out, shaken by what he had seen. That had been his fate, he realised now. If he'd been left there like he was supposed to have been, he'd have burnt to death; why would they use fires when they could use the most natural resource, the sun, to cook their meat? He gagged again, and Hankyung turned to him, worried.
"Heechul?" He put his hand on Heechul's shoulder, and Heechul turned his head away. Hankyung could have easily left him there. Hankyung didn't know who he was, what kind of a person he was; he could have eaten him himself. Instead he had chosen to save him, feed him with his own food, even. Heechul's gratitude was overwhelming, but he wasn't one to left it show. Instead, he clung just that little harder to Hankyung as the other man slept.