this is where it splits in half honey, love or death (grab an end, pull hard and make a wish) [9/12]
Sehun finally gets back up on his feet several hours later, when the night has already fallen upon them. He glances at the sky above their heads, pieces of puzzles lighting the night through the foliage, and narrows his eyes at the ground, so far under them. Jongdae wordlessly watches him look right and left from where he's still sitting, huddled against the trunk. The long hours have made his body numb to the bark digging through his shirt, or the stillness-induced cramps, but he still hasn't slept. His eyelids feel heavy on his eyes, swollen, but it's like his mind can't shut up.
Sehun mumbles something that sounds like so many Infected in an annoyed, more than worried, voice, and Jongdae can't help but glance at the darkness afar. His mind flashes Seulgi and Soojung running into the forest, and he bites his lips. They probably ran along the border of the forest without going deeper into the woods, and that might have worked, but Sehun's right. There really is a lot of Infected, and many of them kept wandering through the trees after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon line. None of them has stopped under their tree though, and Jongdae guesses that they're all still too high on the overwhelming smell of Yeri's blood to notice his for now, but will it last?
Sehun gets back on his feet. He mindlessly rubs his knees before stretching his arm to catch the ladder.
“We need to go now,” he tells Jongdae in a whisper-like voice. “I think they all went to sleep, but it's past midnight, and we have a two hour long walk ahead of us.”
Jongdae nods, shifting on his feet. He winces as his leg muscles stretch. They feel dried, and like they've shrinked in the long hours of immobility, and Jongdae hears his kneecaps creak. He's not sure he really wants to follow Sehun, but his mind goes blank when he tries to think of something else to do. He could go his own way, and that's honestly the only thing he really feels like doing, but without any weapons on him while he's in the middle of an Infected-plagued forest, it would be suicidal. Common sense would want him to follow Sehun, wherever he wants to go. Jongdae is too tired anyway to start an intense session of pondering.
Sehun leans above the pitched-black void, and finally lets go of the ladder. It falls down smoothly, sliding into the spaces between the branches like it was probably planned, and they both hear the slight thud when the very last rung hits the ground.
“How will you put it back in the hook?” Jongdae asks.
Sehun shrugs.
“I won't. I usually go from one tree to the other, so I don't need to take the ladder to go down, but I hardly think it will be a problem. I don't think Infected are keen on climbing rope ladders.”
Jongdae thinks about the alpha going on the roof, and he struggles to refrain a shudder.
“You'd be surprised,” he mumbles.
In the bright full moon's light, Jongdae easily catches the look Sehun throws at him over his shoulder.
“I'll come back tomorrow to put it back, don't worry. Even if one of them made it until the platform though, what would they do up there? It's an outpost for emergency situations, it doesn't lead anywhere.”
Jongdae stares at Sehun, curiosity creeping on him through the thick layer of exhaustion his mind is wearing.
“Do you really jump from one tree to another?” he spits out, intrigued.
That's how Sehun made it sound, and now he's even rambling about outposts? How organized is he? Jongdae is willing to believe he lives up in the trees, willing to believe in the sunburns and the sun-induced freckles, but to that extent? The truth, actually, is that it wouldn't even surprise him that much. He's seen the way Sehun walks, runs, and he can totally picture him as a tightrope walker on the thinnest branches, but it's still completely crazy.
Sehun chuckles. “Yeah, I used to go gymnastics when I was younger. I never thought it'd come in handy.”
Jongdae can't help but feel impressed. He glances at the branches all over them, and feels like throwing up just at the mere idea of leaving the solid floor of the platform for them. He looks back at Sehun, wide-eyed.
“You were right, maybe Robin Hood suits you better.”
Sehun snorts, his face breaking into an amused grin. He draws back his attention to the rope ladder, and kneels down at the border of the platform, falling back into the seriousness expected for what they're about to do.
“I'm gonna slide down,” he whispers to Jongdae. “And you'll go next, okay? We're lucky the moon is full, its light should be enough, but be careful. It's actually trickier to go down than up.”
Jongdae glances at the rope ladder slowly fading away in the pale blue light coming from the sky.
“How reassuring,” he mumbles.
Sehun doesn't even try to hide the slightly taunting amusement taking over his face. He sits down on the edge of the platform, long legs dangling in the void, and locks his ankles around the ladder. He uses his legs to pull the ladder up, so that he can grab it, and when he does, he twists it until it turns into a very thick rope, thanks to the absence of wooden rungs. When he's satisfied with the results, Sehun twists the rope around his left leg, makes it go above his left foot, and finally wedges it under his right sole. He then checks his leather mittens, and finally looks at Jongdae.
“See you down there,” he brags, and just like that, he lets himself falls off the edge.
Jongdae gasps. He leans down and catches Sehun sliding down the rope, one hand secured around it, and the intricate twisting of the rope around his leg helping his descent to go smoothly. Jongdae winces, shifting on his hands and knees, and following Sehun until the latter turns greyish, moonlight catching in his hair locks. A slight thud tells Jongdae Sehun landed safe and sound on the solid ground, and he slowly shakes his head. He needs to get over how impressed he feels, because the bragging smirk Sehun threw at him before falling was annoying, and Jongdae doesn't want him to realise how much Sehun could really brag with him.
Sehun shakes the rope until it unfolds and turns back to being a ladder, and Jongdae sighs. Time to try and not break his neck.
Sehun was right. The descent is much scarier than the ascension, and he feels like it takes him ages to reach the firm and solid ground. The rungs keep shying away from his feet, and the ladder swings so much that Jongdae's knuckles graze the trunk a few times. When he reaches the last rungs, Sehun reaches out to help him stabilize the ladder by grabbing Jongdae's belt, but Jongdae immediately pulls away. He loses his balance and dragged down by gravity, Jongdae has no other choice than to jump off the ladder if he doesn't want to fall. He lands with a thud, and can't help the relieved sigh even though he almost faceplants in the roots.
Sehun is watching him with a raised eyebrow, and Jongdae tries his best to ignore him.
“Okay,” Sehun finally breathes out, not without an eye roll before. “Follow me, and keep quiet.”
Jongdae gives him a short nod to show he got it, and Sehun mimicks his gesture with a tiny smile. He takes his bow and keeps it in his hand, just in case, and Jongdae really misses his machete. Feeling weaponless and naked, he steps closer to Sehun, who is his only shield against the Infected for now. Sehun glances at him, and motions him towards the darkest part of the forest with a gesture of the head. He sets off on a sustained pace, and Jongdae follows suit. He is very intent on keeping Sehun in sight, because the latter knows the forest by heart, and even with the full moon high above them, Jongdae wouldn't trust his own senses to zigzag between the trees alone. He knows for sure Infected usually settle their nests in dark places, and forests and cellars are their favorite locations. The usual safe feeling he has when the sun disappears behind the horizon line is totally absent tonight, or just barely hinted by the silhouette of Sehun's bow in the latter's hand, and Jongdae isn't going to give up on that.
The lurking fear manages to keep his exhaustion at bay, so much that Jongdae is able to hold Sehun's pace, even though the latter doesn't slow down, even when they reach a light, but very long, uphill slope. Fire is licking at Jongdae's calves, burning the walls of his lungs, but he keeps up with Sehun's long strides, mimicking his light jumps or tilts of the head to avoid treacherous roots and falling branches.
A few times during their running, Sehun reaches behind his back to grab his hand and draw Jongdae's attention to something he points with his index finger. Jongdae squints his eyes, but thanks to the moonlight, the few platforms perched up the trees stand out enough for Jongdae to catch them. Sehun wasn't kidding when he talked about outposts, or the fact that he lived in the forest. If Infected were to run after them right now, all those plateforms would be their best chance.
Just when Jongdae is really starting to struggle to fill his lungs with air, Sehun finally slows down, coming to an halt. Jongdae stops as well, immediately bending down to put his hands on his knees and try to catch his breath. He feels dizzy, and pins and needles are taking over his calves, and going up his thighs. Shaking, he straightens up, and wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. Perspiration and honey mixed liquid has run down his neck, and then under the collar of his shirt, prickling his skin, and burning. Sehun glances at him, and Jongdae is very pleased to notice that the effort has taken a toll on him as well. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing short and erratic, and the long black bangs are pushed back, sticking out on his head because of the sweat.
“Welcome home,” Sehun breathes out.
Jongdae frowns, confused. Sehun smiles at him and points towards the sky. Looking up, Jongdae can't help but gasp, taken aback. Right there, up a grove of trees standing closer to the others than the surrounding trees, a tree house is proudly perched on the branches.
“You've got to be kidding me...” he whispers, mouth ajar.
Sehun chuckles. He puts back his bow on his back, adjusting the string on his chest as he walks closer to the tree house. Jongdae follows him, incapable of shutting down his mouth, or even blinking.
It's not the five star tree house one can see in magazines or TV shows, but it still looks pretty amazing. Jongdae's eyes slide over the base of the house, and he quickly realises that it has been built over the same plateforms, although larger, than the one he spent the day on. Whoever did this built the platforms first, and then raised the walls all around it to finally put a flat roof on top of every circular room created. Some of them are linked to the others by a few stairs made of plain wood boards screwed on thick branches, but Jongdae also catches another rope ladder, with wooden rungs this time, horizontally streched out between two platforms, with only two ropes to serve as handrails. In total, Jongdae counts three circular houses and a larger one made of three merged platforms.
“Did you build this on your own?” Jongdae marvels.
Sehun furiously shakes his head.
“Chanyeol did,” he says. “He drew the plans, and Baekhyun and I helped. He was a carpenter before, so he knew what he was doing pretty well.”
Jondgae stares.
“Chanyeol and Baekhyun?”
“They're probably still food hunting, but they'll be back sooner or later,” Sehun nods. He pauses, watching Jongdae as the latter throws a wary glance around him. “They won't hurt you, I promise.”
Sehun's softer tone takes Jongdae by surprise, and he stares back with furrowed eyebrows.
“Your promise means nothing,” he retorts, defying. “I don't know you.”
“I saved your life two times though,” Sehun says, smirking. “I think that trusting me is the only viable option you have right now.”
It's a game, Jongdae realises. Sehun is purposely provoking him, for whatever reasons (although Jongdae would bet that it's just because it entertains him), and then enjoying Jondgae's annoyance very much. He still has a great deal of difficulty in figuring Sehun out, and he doesn't like it at all. He's always been good at reading people, and it has been his main weapon for the past few months, but he can't seem to see through Sehun's little games. Sehun can be snarky, biting and infuriatingly bratty, but at the same time, he did save Jongdae's life. He also let Jongdae his privacy when the latter started to cry earlier, and he showed a little bit of worry and sorry for him a few times already. Whatever things Sehun has in mind with his provocations though, Jongdae isn't going to follow. He's really not in the mood for witty exchanges.
“I don't like you,” he says.
Sehun chuckles, not the slightest offended. He skirts around one of largest trees that serve as a support for the house, and pulls out a really long stick -which is actually more a branch- from behind the trunk. Jongdae watches him warily as Sehun walks back to the tree house and situates himself under the largest room. He raises the stick above his head, his two hands curled around to support the weight, and poke at a stone barely sticking out from what could be a tiny patio. The stone rolls, falls from the plateform and drags a ladder in its fall. This one has wooden rungs this time, but it's mostly the difference of height that reassures Jongdae. As if reading his thoughts, Sehun glances at him.
“It's only six meters high,” he tells him. He pushes the stone with the tip of his shoe, and the ladder, attached to it, completely unfolds.
“You can climb,” he adds, smiling to Jongdae. He raises the stick still in his hand. “I'm gonna put this back behind the tree.”
Jongdae nods. He glances at the tree house above his head as he walks to the ladder, and can't deny that he feels pretty excited to visit it. He grabs the first rung, and the ladder sways when he puts his first foot on it, but compared to the twenty meters descent from earlier, it's nothing. Jongdae glances at Sehun over his shoulder, the later having just disappeared behind the tree, and starts climbing up the ladder. He reaches the top of it in no time, and he hauls himself on the wooden boards. They seem as solid and firm under his feet as the plateform's did too. It's only the second time Jongdae climbs up in the trees, but he already feels an underlying sense of safety filling his chest.
Sehun finally joins him on the tiny patio, and just like before, he hauls his body easily and gracefully on the wooden boards. Landing in a crouched dow position, he doesn't straighten right away, instead grabbing the ladder and pulling it up. Jongdae kneels next to him to help him, and together it takes them barely a minute to drag the last rung up on the patio. Sehun flashes him a small thankful smile before he makes sure that the stone is well situated, just at the border of the patio.
“Home sweet home,” he says, straightening up. Jongdae mimics him, looking around him.
Now that he's up there, he can see how impressing the whole structure is. It must have required a lot of hard work and heavy precautions, with the forest all around them, and the lack of equipment, but even like that, it's honestly amazing. The tiny patio surrounds the larger house, and leads them a door that Sehun promptly opens. It's not a perfect door, there's a space on the top of it, but it's still a door, and Jongdae spends a few seconds marveling at the doorknob, which is actually a pine cone.
Sehun looks over his shoulder, and smiles upon seeing what keeps Jongdae behind. Feeling his eyes on him, Jongdae looks up, flabbergasted.
“This is completely crazy,” he mumbles.
His astonishment seems to be to Sehun's liking, whose face literally lights up as his eyes narrows to slints and his lips curl up.
“Come inside,” he tells him, steping aside so Jongdae can enter the room.
It's not much, but considering that the room is perched up a tree -or actually three trees- it looks a lot to Jongdae. There isn't any furniture, only carpets and blankets scattered all over the floor, but following the walls are long wooden trunks. They're very plain, only four boards nailed together, but the top shuts well, and Jongdae can only guess it's where Sehun and his friends put their food or things like that. He wonders if there are any weapons here, but quickly dismisses the thought. Something tells him that stealing Sehun will be harder than stealing Luhan, and he doesn't want to take any risk now.
Sehun walks further into the room, straight to one of the trunks, and he opens it. He pulls out what looks like an emergency kit out of it, and comes back towards Jongdae.
“This is the main room,” Sehun says. “Now we're going into my room.”
“You have a room?” Jongdae repeats.
Sehun chuckles, leading Jongdae back on the patio. He closes the door behind them.
“This is the apocalypse luxury hotel,” he snickers.
Jongdae snorts. Flashing him another smile, Sehun takes him by the hand and leads him on the other side of the house, at the end of the patio. It doesn't actually stops, it just turns into stairs as it reaches the trunk, wooden boards now nailed to the branches. Sehun lets go of his hand, and jumps on the first one without any hint of hesitation, the emergency kit still under his arm. He easily reaches the third, and last, stair with his long legs, jumping over the second one, and finally stops on the second patio, this one surrounding a smaller platform. Jongdae doesn't even glance at the void beneath the stairs as he follows suit, too intrigued to be afraid. He slides his palm against the trunk, fingers mindlessly following the irregularities until he can reach the second patio's guardrail.
He immediately notices that, on top of being smaller, this house is also less high, so much that Sehun can only walk through the door bent down. Even Jongdae, yet smaller than Sehun, has to shift on his knees to enter the room. He still follows Sehun further into the room though, not without glancing at the doorknob beforehand. (It's a bundle of sticks.)
Jongdae understands why the roof is that low when he takes his first look around the room. It's actually more like a huge bed than a room, and its whole purpose resides here. There are even more blankets spread all over the floor than in the main room, and even some pillows or sleeping bags opened wide. Three, or maybe even four men, could sleep comfortably inside this house, without even hurting their backs with how thick and plush the layers of blankets feel under Jongdae's hand. He shifts to his hands and knees to moves to the center of the room, his whole body urging him to chose a pillow and finally go to sleep.
Sehun, also on his hands and knees, closes the door behind him, and darkness engulfs the room. It's only then that Jongdae realises that, contrary to the main room, there are no windows on those walls, no holes protected by makeshift shudders. Sehun scoots closer, and something clicks on Jongdae's left. Not even a second after, a cascade of light pours down from a flashlight fixed to the ceiling. Sehun's eyes are glued to Jongdae's face, looking even darker than they really are, and somehow, Sehun's gaze manages to make Jongdae uneasy.
“You look like shit,” Sehun finally says.
The flashlight is still swaying between them, cone of light going right and left and right and left.
“I haven't slept in like forty hours,” Jongdae retorts.
Sehun slightly nods. “That's what I thought.” He shows Jongdae the emergency kit he's still holding. “I'll just bandage your cuts, and then I'll let you sleep.”
Jongdae tenses, and even in the dim light, Sehun doesn't miss it. Or maybe he was expecting it, and quite frankly, it wouldn't even surprise Jongdae. Sehun lowers the emergency kit, dark eyes sliding over Jongdae's face with a barely hidden amusement.
“If I wanted to kill you, waiting for you to be asleep would have been pretty useless,” Sehun teases him. “With how tired you are, I'd win easily. And you don't have any weapons.”
“Is that supposed to make me trust you?” Jongdae retorts.
“No. But you should realise that me proposing my help is just me proposing my help. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Jongdae eyes Sehun for the longest time, and Sehun holds his gaze easily, not even the slightest disturbed by it. The flashlight's swaying has toned down to a slow rocking that make the shadows run from Sehun's right cheek to his left one. Jongdae likes that Sehun didn't immediately ask him to trust him, because that would have been the top reason why Jongdae should not trust him. Jongdae weighs up the pros and cons. Sehun did save his life, and he even took him into his home, which is really well protected and hidden. Until then, Sehun has proven to be a pretty cautious guy, and Jongdae can't imagine him taking the risk to take someone in his shelter, even just to kill him.
As if he could follow Jongdae's reasonning, Sehun's smile slowly spreads wider. Jongdae rolls his eyes, but holds his wounded arm out anyway. Sehun doesn't even try to hide the victorious grin now taking over his lips as he opens the emergency kit.
“I guess I shouldn't wait for a thank you?” he asks innocently.
Jongdae snorts. “Yeah, you're guessing right.”
Sehun chuckles, but he doesn't say anything. He grabs Jongdae's wrist, and leans down to take a better look at the bruise spreading on his forearm. There's a hole in the middle of the bruise, just the size of a fingertip, but it's still deep and red. Sehun's honey has worked pretty well though, because it's not bleeding anymore, it's just raw skin and hematoma spreading on pale skin. It's not that painful, actually less painful than the throbbing pain regularly flashing through Jongdae's cheek, but Jongdae can't help a shudder when he glances down at his arm. It was so easy for the Infected to tear his skin apart, like it was nothing more than a sheet of paper.
Sehun glances at him before straightening. He rummages through the emergency kit and pulls out a few compresses, a roll of bandaids and, of course, another bottle of honey. With how fast and precise he is, Jongdae can only guess that he had to deal with minor injuries before, and it somehow reassures him about the honey's efficacy. He'd give everything for a few drops of lavender oil though, but Yeri kept the bottles in her bag, and her bag is lying on the concrete, somewhere next to her body.
Sehun glances at him while he soaks a compress with honey.
“You okay?”
Jongdae nods, sharply, and Sehun gets the hint. He looks away and puts the compress on Jongdae's forearm, making sure it's sticking to his skin by pressing softly his palm against it.
“Are you really not going to put anything against the smell of blood?” Jongdae asks. “Because we're pretty far from Yeri's body right now, and they're going to smell me and--”
“Relax,” Sehun cuts him. He throws Jongdae a heavy look, his eyes dark despite the light flooding his face. “Lavender oil isn't the only thing that blocks the smell of blood,” Sehun continues. “Let me do my job, would you?”
Jongdae glares at Sehun, who dismisses it with a slight eyeroll. He wraps Jongdae's forearm with gauze, and adds a few bandaids to make sure it doesn't move. He looks up to Jongdae-to Jongdae's cheek, actually, and scoots closer, so closer that his knees bump into Jongdae's. His invasion into Jongdae's personal space comes with a wave of woody smells. Sehun's hair smells like sap, and there's something about the scent stagnating along the straight column of his neck that reminds Jongdae of the leaves he had to push away when he went down the rope ladder earlier. Under the harsh light coming from the flashlight, the skin on Sehun's nose looks even more burnt, but the freckles somehow merges pretty well with the paler skin spreading on his cheekbones. Jongdae had always though it was the same apocalypse for all the Immunes, but Sehun really doesn't look like he lived the same thing. Jongdae has to force himself to look away before he makes the mistake to admit to himself how fascinated he actually feels.
Sehun taps a compress soaked with water on Jongdae's cheek, cleaning the cuts as softly as he can, but it still hurts like a bitch. Jongdae hisses when a tiny bit of cotton gets stuck in the deeper cut, and Sehun winces with him.
“Sorry,” he says, grimacing. “Sorry.”
After the cleaning part, things are more or less the same than for Jongdae's arm, except that Sehun has to do with only the compresses, since he can't really bandage Jongdae's face. He tapes two compresses on his cheeks after making sure that the bandaids wouldn't be on the cuts, and adds a third one on his neck, where the deeper cut ends. Jongdae can feel the honey running down his skin under the compresses, but after the water penetrating the cuts, it feels like a shield protecting him from pain. He allows himself a light sigh that, of course, Sehun doesn't miss. He smirks at Jongdae before rummaging through the leather bag on his belt again. A few seconds later, he pulls out a tiny circle shaped box, with a logo on it that Jongdae recognizes as a cosmetics brand.
Obviously pleased with all the suspense he's creating, Sehun finally opens the box with a theatrical gesture.
“Tada,” he smiles. “Cryptomeria sap.”
Jongdae glances at the thin layer of brownish and very thick substance in the bottom of the box. It catches the light in a very velvety sparkle that make the few impurities stand out. Jongdae raises an eyebrow at Sehun.
“Don't ask me why it works,” Sehun says. “But it does.”
“Cryptomeria?” Jondgae repeats.
Sehun nods. “We were up one of them earlier.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
Sehun chuckles, plunging his infex and middle fingers into the sap. “I used to devour every magazines and books I could get hold of, and I have a pretty good memory.”
Jongdae snorts, and Sehun's smile only grows wider. He puts a little bit of sap in Jongdae's neck, and in the inside of his wrists, and puts the box back into his bag after wiping his fingers against his pants.
“You're as good as new now,” Sehun says. He pauses, and adds in a teasing voice. “But really, don't say thank you.”
“Great, because I won't,” Jongdae grumbles.
Sehun lets out a drawn-out sigh that clashes with the amusement spread all over his face. He shifts back on his knees, finally leaving Jongdae's personal space. Pulling back everything into the emergency kit, he motions towards the pillows with a slight tilt of the head.
“You should go to sleep now,” he says. “Don't worry, you're safe up there.”
Jongdae shrugs. Sehun looks away, a tiny smile perched on his lips as he waddles to the door, still on his knees. Even like that, his head is dangerously close to the ceiling, but Sehun has the assurance of someone who is used to this setting, and the few millimeters between his head and the ceiling are totally safe for him. He opens the door with his palm and slides outside. Jongdae watches him get back on his feet, and soon enough, Sehun is just a pair of long and slender legs through the square of the tiny door. Until, at least, Sehun bends down to look at him one last time.
“Don't waste the battery,” he says, pointing at the flashlight.
Jongdae stares at him as he raises a hand, palming around to find the flashlight. Sehun's smirk only grows wider while Jongdae's fingers keep searching the void next to him. Letting out a low grumble, he finally turns around, and turns off the flashlight.
“Goodnight,” Sehun says.
“Hey!” Jondgae calls him out just before Sehun closes the door. The latter throws him a questioning look, and Jongdae immediately regrets his outburst.
“My name's Jongdae,” he says.
Sehun smiles. “Then, goodnight Jongdae.”
The following second, the door is closed.
Jongdae is left in utter darkness with Sehun's footsteps slowly fading into the silence of the forest. He raises his hand to touch the compresses on his face, and sighs. He searches all around him, desperate for a pillow, his whole body going more and more tired with every second passing by and dragging him closer to a few hours of sleep. He shouldn't sleep, honestly, he shouldn't even consider it, but he's too tired to doubt Sehun, and make plan to save his life. He just wants a pillow under his head, it's really all that matters, but those fucking pillows are nowhere to be found. He's pretty sure he saw them on his left, but he's just reached the wall, and there's nothing there, aside from more blankets.
It's okay, Jongdae mentally tries to calm himself. I'll just go back to the flashlight, turn it on and take a fucking pillow. But as he walks on all fours back to the center of the room, his palm sliding against the ceiling, Jongdae quickly realises that the flashlight is also nowhere to be found. He stops dead in his tracks, and narrows his eyes at the darkness all around. He's not even sure where the door is, and just the mere idea of walking along the walls to find it manages to suck dry his last forces.
Jongdae falls on his side, his fall muffled by the thick blanket covering the floor, and he curls up into a ball. He puts an arm under his neck as an improvised pillow, and brings his other hand next to his face, so that he can feel the sap whenever he breathes in. Tiredness finally catches up with him, closing its claws around him, and Jongdae breaks into tiny pieces that have him sobbing quietly against his palm, his eyes shut closed, because the darkness of his eyelids is actually more comforting than the darkness playing with his senses. He barely feels himself fall into slumber, but the last coherent thought he has is about Soojung. He wonders if she's stopped screaming his name.
Darkness is still there when Jongdae opens his eyes, and it takes him a few moments to remember where he is, and why there is absolutely no light around him. The room's walls feel so thick around him, blocking everything that comes from the world, and Jongdae basks in the feeling. He has absolutely no idea if the sun is out or not, and it gives him a more than welcome feeling of vengeance over the world. He raises his hand and checks the compresses on his face and neck, fingers sliding over them. The pain running along the cuts on his cheek is now distant, asleep, replaced by a strong smell of honey. That, plus the fact that Jongdae feels rested for the first time in a year makes him feel like he's somehow landed in a parallel universe where things, maybe, aren't that bad.
It's just wishful thinking, of course, but Jongdae keeps lying in the dark, just a few more minutes. He refuses to admit it, but he's kind of relieved that Sehun didn't try to kill him in his sleep. Not really because, well, he is still alive, but because it gives him more reasons to work towards trusting Sehun. His thoughts then graze the main room and the wooden trunks as Jongdae wonders where Sehun keeps his weapons, and if, maybe, he'd manage to snatch one. Trust is a beautiful notion, but in this very ugly world, it has never saved anyone. He's lost both his machete and his gun, and even though he still has his bag, Jongdae feels more naked than ever. He could wait until Sehun leaves the tree house, because he surely does, doesn't he? Jongdae internally snorts. He knows for sure that fooling Sehun won't be that easy.
The darkness all around him makes the slightest sound echo in Jongdae's head like thunder, and that's how he catches the faint stream of voices. Sitting up with a startle, Jongdae suddenly remembers about Sehun's friends, and the faint feeling of safety he was starting to have promptly disappears. Eyes open wide to try and grab a bit of light, just enough to take him to the door, Jongdae palms in the dark, fingers ruffling the blankets on the floor. He needs to get out of here because he's too much of an easy prey in the room, with nowhere to hide, and the element of surprise playing against him. He grumbles as his knee catches in a blanket and he almost faceplants. He stretches out his arms in the hope that the walls aren't too far. His fingers indeed brush against the wood, and Jongdae muffles a cry of victory as he hurries along the walls, brushing the surface in a hurry until--yes.
Jongdae grabs the doorknob and throws his weight forward. The door easily gives way to his body, and carried away by his run-up, Jongdae loses his balance and falls forward, the upper half of his body outside, and the lower half still tangled in the blankets. He winces as bright light pours down on him, blinding him and attacking him with a sudden rush of fear. Blinking away the white spots invading his vision, he grumbles and tries to kick the blankets away. A short chuckle stops him dead in his tracks.
Jongdae freezes, and looks up. Sehun's face, flanked by two others that Jongdae doesn't know. Their bodies are barely engaged in the stairs that lead to the patio Jongdae is currently spread on, so their faces are only a few inches above him.
Sehun gives him an amused look, a smirk perched on his lips.
“Jongdae, this is Baekhyun and Chanyeol,” he says, an underlying laughter ringing in his intonations.
“Nice to meet you,” the guy that Sehun has just pointed as Baekhyun grins at him.
Jongdae grumbles, and hides his face against the wooden boards.
Jongdae squirms, uneasy because of Sehun's friends' eyes heavy on him. After finding him spread on the patio in front of Sehun's room, the latter had helped him on his feet (and out of the blankets) and dragged him downstairs, in the main room. For the past five minutes, Sehun has been applying new bandages, soaked with honey, on his cuts, and both his friends have been watching Jongdae wordlessly. Jongdae caught Sehun glancing at him a few times already, and each times was more amused than the last. Jongdae is very intent on not letting his friends think they're impressing him though, so he stares back, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes defying.
The first one of the two to react is Chanyeol. He's the carpenter one, Jongdae remembers, and it somehow shows. Jongdae thinks he might be taller than Sehun. Just like the latter, his legs are never-ending but slightly bowed when Sehun's are all long and straight lines. He has strong arms standing out under the thin fabric of his shirt, and calloused hands that Jongdae can picture working wood easily. He glances at his friend -Baekhyun- who glances back, both their faces blank and very hard to read.
“Sehun said you're not going to hurt us,” Chanyeol says, eye scanning Jongdae.
Jongdae looks at Sehun, who is putting a new compress on his arm. Sensing his gaze, he looks up at Jongdae, and flashes him a smug smile.
“Yep, that's what I said.”
Jongdae glares at him. He turns towards Chanyeol and Baekhyun.
“He only said that because he knows I'm weaponless.”
“That's what I said,” Baekhyun snorts.
Chanyeol's face breaks into a grin, but Baekhyun remains a little cautious, his eyes never leaving Jongdae's face despite the faint smile tugging at his lips and obviously aimed at Chanyeol. He's smaller, easily the smallest of the three, but he's jut around Jongdae's height. Even like that, Jongdae wouldn't take him for an easy target anyway. Baekhyun's silhouette is slender, long, and more grace than muscles, but it radiates the same level, if not more, of danger than Sehun and Chanyeol's bodies. Jongdae feels very outnumbered, and he hates it.
“Chanyeol and Baekhyun don't really like people,” Sehun butts in with a crooked smile. “Neither do I actually. But I told them you wouldn't do anything against them, because you owe me.”
“I never asked you anything,” Jongdae snaps back. “You chose to help me.”
Sehun nods, struggling to restrain another smile as he makes sure the bandaids is correctly sticking to Jongdae's skin.
“I thought you looked like a total ray of sunshine, and I wanted more happiness and brightness in my life,” he teases. “I can't even word how grateful I am that you are here.”
Jongdae snorts, but it only makes Sehun's smile grow widder.
“As you can see,” he tells his friends. “Our dear Jongdae isn't really keen on saying thank you, but I can assure you, he doesn't bite.”
“Don't tempt me,” Jongdae retorts through gritted teeth.
Sehun chuckles, waving his fingers in front of Jongdae's mouth who glares at him as hard as he can.
“Okay...” Baekhyun hesitates, his eyes going back and forth between Jongdae and Sehun. He finally stops on the latter. “Are you sure he won't try to kill us?”
Sehun nods. “Positive.”
Jongdae doesn't like Sehun's assurance, and how it makes him sound like he thinks Jongdae is a harmless pet, but at the same time, he can't really argue with him, because it would sound like he really wants to kill Sehun and his friends. Which is definitely not true. He's killed before, of course he has, but it was mostly to protect himself and survive. He'd be really crazy to even think about taking down the odd trio, without any weapons, and on their own grounds.
“Okay,” Baekhyun repeats. “But he's under your responsibility. Keep a close eye on him.”
Sehun nods, and Jongdae glares at Baekhyun, for good measure.
“I'm not his pet,” he mumbles, and to his surprise, it makes Baekhyun laugh.
“I know you're not,” he smiles, but in a nice way, in a warm way. He's not mocking him, or looking down on him, he's genuinely amused at how revolted Jongdae looks. “You know, Chanyeol and I were there on the roof when you got attacked in the warehouse, and we never thought you'd survive. But then Sehun tells us he saw you riding a bike with a bunch of assholes on your ass. And finally, you survive to an encounter with a gang, and another Infected attack. Trust me Jongdae, I know you're no pet.”
With how Baehyun worded it, it does sound impressive, but Jongdae is hardly impressed. He notices that Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Sehun aren't as well. It's hard to be admirative of such things when those are the only things left to do to survive. Hell, Sehun and his friends built a tree house. The rules have changed, and everything has come down to people who survive because they do everything it takes, and people who don't. All in all, Baekhyun's little speech only tells him that the three of them are aware that Jongdae isn't harmless, so trying the trick of the submissive poor boy won't work with them. Actually, he's pretty sure nothing will.
Jongdae slightly deflates with a small sigh. Despite the fact that he feels very unprotected with those people that he doesn't know, staying with them for now still is his best option.
“If I'm good, will I have my own room too?” he asks.
Sehun, Baekhyun and Chanyeol all chuckle, and Jongdae feels the tension in the air around them die out a little. He's not sure how long he'll have to stay with them, but he knows they will all be wary with each other for a while. Since his usual ways will not work with Sehun and his friends, Jongdae might as well do everything he can to make the cohabitation less dangerous, especially for him.
“Anyway,” Chanyeol says. “We had a successful raid, so yay, food!”
He grabs the backpack waiting next to the trunk he and Baekhyun are sitting on, and that Jongdae didn't notice before because of how busy he was glaring back at Sehun's friends. The bag does look bursting at the seams, and Jongdae's mouth waters at what might be inside. Last time he ate something was before he and Soojung got up on the roof, and after that, things went way too fast for him to even spare a thought to his empty stomach. He briefly wonders if Soojung and the others ate, if they made it out of the forest alive, but he quickly dismisses the thought. Worrying about that won't do him any good, and it's not like he can do anything for them now, anyway.
Chanyeol rummages through the bag, and pulls out four cups of ramen, that he throws one after the other to his friends. Jongdae catches the last one thrown his way and tries not to lick his lips at the idea of eating a whole cup of ramen. Baekhyun pulls out two bottles of water from the bag and waves them, his eye smile lighting up his face.
“Today will be cold ramen!” He throws a bottle at Sehun who catches it with a single hand, his other secured around his cup of ramen. “Since we still haven't found another gas bottle, we'll save what's left of ours.”
Sehun shrugs. “Cold ramen is fine by me.”
He turns towards Jongdae, and the latter raises a questioning eyebrow at him, to which Sehun answers with an amused smile. It takes Jongdae a few more seconds to realise that Sehun is wordlessly asking him if he's okay with eating cold ramen, instead of hot. Thrown aback, Jongdae merely shrugs.
“It's still ramen,” he answers.
Sehun flashes him another smile before finally putting away the emergency kit still on his knees, and getting back up on his feet. He grabs Jongdae's wrist while he does and pulls him up as well. Jongdae pulls away as soon as he's back up on his feet, glaring at the other man. Unsurprisingly, Sehun doesn't seem to mind, or to actually care.
“Jongdae and I will be eating outside.” He glances at Jongdae. “Is that okay for you?”
“The sun is out,” Jongdae retorts, frozen on the spot.
Sehun flashes him a discreet wink before turning around to his friends again. Baekhyun is thoroughly pourring water into his and Chanyeol's cups, but the latter is watching Sehun with a serious look that clashes with all the smiles Jongdae has seen him sport until then.
“Be careful,” he says, before drawing back his attention on the two cups of ramen and Baekhyun.
Jondgae gasps as Sehun closes his fingers around his wrist and drags him towards the door. He absolutely does not want to go outside, and if he had the choice, he'll even go back into the darkness of Sehun's room, so he could just forget about the sun shining bright above their heads. Sehun obviously has something else in mind, and contrary to Jongdae, who shrinks on himself as they step out of the wooden house, Sehun doesn't appear remotely afraid. His rush dies down a little though, and his walk turns even more silent as he drags Jongdae to the far end of the patio, where the stairs leading to his room starts. Unable to tell him to stop, since Jongdae doesn't even dare to breathe in deeply because of the sound it might draw out of his lungs, he makes sure Sehun knows how incomfortable he is by squeezing his hand so tight he might just break a few bones. Sehun makes a face over his shoulder, but Jongdae's silent torture only gets him to speed up as he runs up the few steps. Finally letting go of Jongdae's hand, he puts his cup of ramen and the bottle on his room's roof. He grips it, the wooden boards only reaching the lower half of his torso, and hauls himself on it. Crouched down on the roof, he turns towards Jongdae, a smile sparkling with glee and inviting turning his eyes into slits.
Jongdae glances at the trees around them, and the colors exploding everywhere in his line of vision. Green for the foliage, golden for the light passing through it, and brown for the trees, the dirt, the branches. He spots yellow popping out here and there in the shape of a few mushroams huddled against the trees' bases, and tiny red dots merging in with the deep green of the berry bushes. By night, nature looks so different, hungry, eager to take back the spot left by human kind, one blade of grass at a time. But right now, in broad daylight, it keeps on living with the same peacefulness feeling Jongdae remembers from happier, distant days. When he looks up, Sehun is bathing in the light pourring down on his room's roof from a hole in the foliage large enough to engulf Sehun wholly. The latter turns his head towards him, and smiles.
“Come here,” he says, his voice low, barely louder than a whisper, but it still has Jongdae freezing and glancing around him.
“Shut up,” he finally hisses to Sehun. His anger doesn't show as well as he'd want it to because his voice is actually more of a whisper, but he's pretty sure it wouldn't have worked on Sehun anyway.
He watches Sehun take the bottle and put it straight under the sunlight, and Jongdae's stomach takes the lead. He takes a first tentative step towards the roof, and stops to cast a long look around him. Sehun is watching him, obviously very amused, but Jongdae couldn't care less. He won't get himself killed because he's too confident or too cocky, and right now, it doesn't matter that Sehun somehow gives him the impression to know more than he does.
“Infected don't really look up,” Sehun finally tells him with a slight smile. “Why do you think that animals on the ground are pretty rare when birds are proliferating?”
“Because there's less meat on them?”
Sehun snorts, and the sound clashes with the peacefulness of the forest. Jongdae slightly recoils, scanning the surroundings of the tree house, and Sehun watches him, very amused. When Jongdae is finally sure nothing is coming towards them, he straightens up and defies Sehun's smug look with a deathly glare.
“Some of them are pretty clever,” he tells him. The alpha's face floods his mind, and Jongdae has to take another look around him to try and lessen the fear, even slightly.
Sehun nods, shifting on his butt and tilting his body on the right so he can snatch Jongdae's cup of ramen from his hand just by stretching his arm. He goes back to his original spot and opens the cup under Jongdae's outraged eyes.
“I know,” Sehun says. “I reckon it might have to do with their levels of infection. Those whose organisms are weaker have completely disappeared under the Misty virus, but I think others managed to keep a little of who they were, mostly their human intelligence.”
Jongdae considers what Sehun said for a few seconds. They'll never have any answer for that question, but Sehun's makes sense, in a very terrible and scary way. He makes a face as he mindlessly hauls himself on the roof, his hunger leading the way. He pretends he doesn't notice Sehun's very pleased face as he sits next to him.
“If that's true,” Jongdae mumbles. “Then it's terrible for those people.”
“And terrible for the Immunes dealing with them,” Sehun concludes.
Jongdae nods with a faint smile deprived of joy. Next to him, Sehun checks the temperature of the water by curling his fingers around the bottle. Slightly deflating, he lets the bottle under the sun, and motions towards Jongdae's cup of ramen with a tilt of his head.
“I'd crush the noodles if I were you,” he says. “They're pretty long to soak up the water when it's cold, and crushing them helps.”
Jongdae glances at the noodles, and his stomach grumbles. He's pretty sure he won't have the patience to wait until the noodles have soaked up the water, so Sehun's advice might be a good idea. Hopefully, they won't be too crunchy, but at this point, he wouldn't even care. He has to fight himself not to sprinkle the flavor bag on them and eat them like chips, so, really, crunchy noodles should do.
He puts his hand into the cup and closes his fingers around the noodles. A slight pressure is enough for them to be crushed, but Jongdae does it three times, just to be sure. Looking up, he finds Sehun watching him with a restrained laughter hanging off his lips, and Jongdae freezes, glaring at him.
“Please don't laugh,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “We're outside.”
Sehun nods. “We are. But it's great, I mean, you're so pale, it should help you look like an actual living human.”
Jongdae glares at him, his hand still in his ramen cup.
“We don't all have a tree house,” he retorts, to which Sehun chuckles.
“But honestly,” Sehun says, gesturing at the forest around them. “Isn't it pretty?”
Jongdae keeps glaring at Sehun for a few more seconds, but he finally gives in to the sun shining bright above their heads. It has been indeed quite long since Jongdae last enjoyed a day of light and warmth, since even the few times the sun has caught him on the road in the past year have been nothing but fear and sweat gathering on his collarbones, but the feeling is somehow different this time. Just slightly, but it's enough for Jongdae to let the peaceful beauty of what is spreading at his feet reach him. He watches the leaves and their veins standing out with a darker green under the light, and the butterflies whirling around, stoping to bury themselves in colourful flowers remind him summer hpis now fully settled. Sehun's right, there are a lot of birds, and Jongdae catches at least three of them in each tree, but they belong here. That deep into the woods, it's like nothing happened.
Jongdae glances at Sehun, the latter taking in the view before him with an adoring smile and dangling legs, and thoughts of Yeri and Jongin take Jongdae by surprise. He can't help the feeling that despite his skills, his height and the serious face he sports most of the time, Sehun is actually younger than him, and Jongdae has absolutely no idea what to do with that piece of information.
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