this is where it splits in half honey, love or death (grab an end, pull hard and make a wish)[11/12]

[januarys_lovers]

It turns out he was right, and Jongdae is the first one surprised when they enter the living room and immediately stumble upon the gas bottle. He spent enough time with Luhan to know that the latter isn't the forgetful type, yet the Chinese character scribbled on the bottle is way too obvious for Jongdae to doubt. It isLuhan's bottle, but the fact that it's here, when Luhan is not, only tells about his eagerness to get revenge. Jongdae hardly feels guilty for Minseok anyway, not after what Luhan did to Yeri. He has half a mind to leave a note in case Luhan would have the brilliant idea to come back to get his gas bottle back, but quickly dismisses the thought. He wants Luhan as far away as possible, and provoking him would only make him, but also Sehun, Chanyeol and Baekhyun in danger.

“Okay, let's bring it back,” Sehun says. He glances at the sky through the window, but they still have a few hours of night. Walking back to the tree house will take them two hours though, and carrying the gas bottle will only slow them down. Sehun is right, they need to set off, now.

They both crouch down and grab the bottle, Sehun the top and Jongdae the bottom. It's heavy, immediately weighing down on their muscles, but they see it as good news. The heavier, the fuller. They get out of the house, and walk back up the road, passing by what's left of Yeri for the second time.

“Wait,” Jongdae suddenly says.

Sehun throws him a questionning look, but he still lets Jongdae puts down the gas bottle. Upon seeing him walk towards the bones though, he frowns.

“Jongdae,” he calls him out.

Jongdae dismisses Sehun's worried tone with a light flick of the wrist. He tries hard not to stare at the broken skull lying on the concrete, the hole flashing him a black darker than the night around him, and hurries to the other body lying a few meters away. His machete is still between the ribs, and Jongdae grabs it, immediately pulling it back in his belt. When he walks back to Sehun, the latter is watching him with dark worried eyes.

“You okay?”

Jongdae shakes his head, but he crouches down and grabs the bottom of the bottle anyway, waiting for Sehun to join him.

“Let's go,” he says.

Sehun gives him a short nod, and they go back to carrying the gas bottle on the road. They finally reach the forest, and that's when the tricky part actually starts. Avoiding branches and other sticks lying on the ground, as well as walking through the trees turns so much harder with the gas bottle. Not to mention the stiffness creeping in their arm muscles, little by little. They pause a few times, but time is running out, and they barely wait until they catch their breath to set off again.

It feels like hours later -and it isactually hours later- when they finally reach the familiar sight of the tree house. With a heavy groan, Sehun and Jongdae put down the gas bottle under the main house, and Sehun collapses on the ground, arms and legs wide opened.

“Oh god,” he breathes out, his tongue darting out of his lips. “Oh god.”

He glances at Jongdae, who is still on his feet.

“How are you still up?” he bemoans.

Jongdae chuckles, trying very hard to hide how shaky and weak his legs are.

“I guess you're the rusty one.”

Sehun snorts, grinning. He shifts on his butt, and finally uses the bottle to get back on his feet.

“You know what?” he says. “Let's leave the bottle down there. Baekhyun and Chanyeol will pull it up, we did the hardest. All I want is to go to bed right now.”

Jongdae hesitates, for only for a split second. Who would come and steal the gas bottle anyway? And he can't deny how tired he is. They did it though, they brought back a gas bottle, and he can't regret the night.

Sehun holds the ladder for him as he climbs up, and once on the patio, he lies down on his stomach to do the same for Sehun, at least until he reaches the top rungs. Sehun hauls himself, and wordlessly, they both bend down to catch the ladder and pull it up. Sehun leaves the rock on the edge of the patio, and they exchange a look, everything they did during the night finally taking its toll on them.

“Can I come and sleep with you?” Sehun suddenly asks.

Jongdae freezes. “Uh?”

“I don't want to sleep with Baek and Chanyeol anymore,” Sehun pouts. (He pouts.) “I always feel like I'm interrupting something.”

Jongdae chuckles. “Maybe that's because you are.” He snorts when Sehun gives him the puppy eyes and sighs. “Come with me, big baby.”

Sehun beams at him, and Jongdae can't help but grin back. They join the patio surrounding Sehun's room wordlessly, too exchausted to say anything, and quickly wash the sweat off their faces with the bowl of water left there. Jongdae catches white skin when Sehun puts some water under his shirt, directly on his torso, and he looks away. It had looked so pale compared to Sehun's arms, or his face, and now Jongdae can't quite let go of it. He wonders how Sehun's complexion really looks like when he doesn't spend his days up in the trees, jumping from branches to branches.

Sehun is the first one to enter the room, and Jongdae follows suit. He closes the door behind him, Sehun having turned on the light, and he sits down on the blankets as Sehun undoes his belt and puts it aside. Jongdae mimicks him, taking both the gun and his machete out and hiding them under a blanket, on the far end of the room. The light suddenly sways behind his back, casting new shadows and stains of light on the wooden walls, and when he turns around, he finds Sehun sliding the vinyl on the same rope the flashlight is dangling off from.

Sehun meets his eyes, and he gives him a warm smile. Jongdae finds himself unable to give back, his eyes refusing to leave Sehun's features, but Sehun doesn't seem to mind. He motions towards the blankets with a slight tilt of his head.

“Lie down,” he tells Jongdae. “I'll turn off the light.”

Jongdae immediately obliges. He curls up on the blanket, the heat already rising stopping him from burying himself under, and he shuts his eyes. The light goes out behind his eyelids, faint orange disappearing, and Sehun lies down, the blankets ruffling as he tries to find the most comfortable position.

Jongdae opens his eyes when silence comes back, only disrupted by both his and Sehun's breathing. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, andn his fingers itch with the need to palm the space behind him to know if Sehun is close or not. His smell, with a hint of sap is filling the room, filling Jongdae's nose, and the latter has to grab the blankets under him not to turn around and shift closer to Sehun.

Something is happening, something that Jongdae shouldn't take lightly.

After the succes of the gas bottle mission, both Chanyeol and Baekhyun loosen a bit with Jongdae, which Jongdae considers as an already good reward, but Sehun seems to think that bragging about it, and teasing Chanyeol and Baekhyun is even better. Baekhyun's answers are always witty, bordering on indifference, but Chanyeol always jumps into the tricks that are Sehun's eyebrow twitches and smirks. His attention is drawn away from Jongdae as a sort of competition establishes itself beween him and Sehun, and both Jongdae and Baekhyun follow diligently. It comes to the point where Chanyeol brings back a piece of chalk and draws a thick line on the wooden floor of the food house.

“Baek and I will put the stuff we get on the right side, you and Jongdae on the left. The team with the more supplies when winter comes will have the losing team cook for them everyday.”

Sehun shakes Chanyeol's hand, full of confidence, and Baekhyun sighs, a sight so long and powerful that it has his long bangs flying up. Jongdae isn't comfortable enough with his new freedom to consider saying anything, so he just stands behind Sehun.

In all honesty, he's all for the competition, because it means leaving the tree house with the sun setting down, and coming back with it rising, sometimes a couple of days later. He's not too fond of the danger, the adrenaline sometimes flooding his veins for hours until he feels like he's more made of reflexes and intense feelings than blood and steady heartbeat, but leaving the tree house has its pros. Sehun drags him through the woods, sometimes east, sometimes west, but always stopping here and there to point at platforms up in the trees. He makes sure Jongdae learns their exact positions, just in case, and soon enough, Jongdae is the one stopping Sehun and pointing at high trees, just for the sake of seeing the smile Sehun has for him every single time. Sehun also shows him the ATV they keep parked not far from the house, on a tiny road engulfed by wilderness just in case, with wide worried eyes.

The competition sounds like the most important thing Sehun has ever done, but he forgets it so easily when they step out of the tree house. They sometimes spend days just wandering and not bringing anything back while Chanyeol and Baekhyun -who actually turns to be a really competitive guy- cackle, piling their food supplies on their side of the room. That's how Jongdae finds out about the lake, a little over five minutes away from the tree house, and whose water is of a dark shade of green, hypnotizing and always in movement, like it's crawling towards the banks. He also learns about the cliff south from the tree house, the slope so sudden that losing your balance there could result in breaking your neck. The surrounding trees start to become familiar, until Jongdae finally doesn't need Sehun's hand to find his way back to the border of the woods anymore. When he tells Sehun though, the latter raises an eyebrow at him, and his fingers turn like claws around Jongdae's wrist, only letting go of his hands when they lie in their house, a few hours later.

Sehun changes too, like Chanyeol and Baekhyun do, but in a very different way. When Chanyeol's changes can be summarized with strong taps on Jongdae's back and elbows digging into Jongdae's side when Chanyeol errupts into laughter, Sehun's are more discreet, but deeper. His fingers always reach out for Jongdae's, and he even starts to keep his hand slightly curled when they walk, as though matching with the thought only of Jongdae's hand against his. His smiles linger, his eyes are even more intense, and he spends most of his time turning around to look at Jongdae, instead of watching where he goes. Jongdae changes too, honestly. He catches Sehun's curling fingers, smiles back and watches him, especially when Sehun doesn't know he is. It's probably why he truly thinks that the competition is a good idea, actually, because it doesn't allow him to think. When Jongdae feels himself slipping off the edge, stumbling into dangerous and dark thoughts, he uses the competition as a shield, and it throws him right back into his focus.

It's exactly what he's doing, as big drops of water crash on the tree house, and distant thunder rumbles in the horizon. Rather than thinking about how odd it feels moving around when Sehun doesn't share his personal space, Jongdae focuses on the supplies he's organizing on his and Sehun's side of the room. The piles are getting really high, on both sides of the room, but Jongdae has no idea if it will be enough. Baekhyun has told him about the previous winter, how hard it was, and how they felt like they were going to die several times, and he can't say he's really looking forward to it. At the same time though, he thinks about his own winter, spent in someone else's bed, with someone else's body climbing on top of him, and he's almost sure this winter will be warmer, in a way.

Jongdae tries to move a pile of food, but something falls from the top, right between two piles. Frowning, he slips his arm in the very few inches of space and bends down, fingers searching until they finally close on something. Jongdae pulls it out, and can't help a smile to spread on his lips when his eyes land on the huge bag of honey chips he's holding. I'll be praying every day those are still goodSehun had said, already licking his lips at the mere idea of shoving the chips in his mouth.

“Daydreaming?” says a low voice behind him, jerking him out of his reverie.

Jongdae startles, and the bag of chips falls to the floor again, only this time at his feet. He winces. Sehun will fully appreciate them even if they're reduced to crumbs, but still.

“Oops, sorry,” Chanyeol says with an apologetic grimace.

He walks further into the room as Jongdae picks up the bag for the second time in less than a minute.

“What are you doing here?” Jongdae asks him with a smile. “I thought you were picking berries with Baekhyun and Sehun.” When Chanyeol doesn't answer, looking a tad bit embarrassed, Jongdae narrows his eyes at him. “Did you come here to cheat? Sehun told me you might try, but I actually didn't think you would.”

“I won't cheat,” Chanyeol protests, frowning. “I'm here to talk to you.”

Jongdae freezes. Did he do something wrong? His mind immediately flies to Sehun, and even though he knows Chanyeol can't possibly reproach him anything about Sehun, Jongdae can't help but feel guilty. He eyes Chanyeol warrily, wondering if just like him, Chanyeol has seen the changes between him and Sehun, and decided they were dangerous, or something like that. Jongdae wouldn't blame him. He may be thinking the same thing though, he's not ready to face it yet.

He squirms under Chanyeol's gaze, uncomfortable, and a crushing sound reminds him he's still holding the bag of chips. Mumbling a curse, he puts the crushed bag on a pile next to him.

“Sehun told me about the gang that attacked your friends,” Chanyeol finally says, and as the first word leaves his mouth, his own uneasiness seems to fade away. His eyes are now strong on Jongdae, not harsh or cold, just very intense and overwhelming.

Jongdae quickly leaves all analysis of Chanyeol's faces though, as betrayal washes over him. Sehun wasn'tsupposed to tell anyone, even though Jongdae never actually required him not to. The fact that he thought it was kind of obvious makes Sehun telling Chanyeol even more painful. Why is Chanyeol mentionning that right now though, is a mystery, but Jongdae doesn't like it. He narrows his eyes at the taller man, on the defensive. Chanyeol can't reproach him anything, he better not dare talking about Yeri or Jongin.

“What about them?” Jongdae snaps back, and his bitting tone seems to surprise Chanyeol a bit.

He quickly comes back from his surprise though, and gives Jongdae a tiny shrug.

“I'm sorry for your friends,” Chanyeol says. “But I just need to know... Do you think they were living in the area? I need to know if they're a threat for us.”

Chanyeol's sorry voice, and his questions take Jongdae by surprise. His eyebrows shoot up in confusion even though they were deeply furrowed the previous minutes, and he considers Chanyeol for a split second. Of course Luhan isn't living here, and Sehun knows it, he knows the whole story, so why is Chanyeol asking him that? The only reason Jongdae can think of is Sehun not actually telling Chanyeol everything.

Jumping on the idea, Jongdae quickly enquires. “What did Sehun tell you exactly?”

He doesn't like the idea of Sehun betraying what they shared and everything Jongdae told him. If he did, then did he say everything? From Jongdae sleeping with gang leaders to save his ass, to him getting both Jongin and Yeri killed? Chanyeol's random questions have made him unsure, teetering on the thin line between anger and relief, and Jongdae only wants one thing: to fall on the latter's side.

Chanyeol seems to be taken aback by both the question and Jongdae's eyes narrowed at him, but he only shrugs again.

“That you were with your friends, and you all got attacked. They killed one of your friends, and you lost the others in the panic.”

Jongdae stares at Chanyeol's face a few moments, eye scanning his features and trying to know if he's lying or not. In all honesty, despite how tough Chanyeol likes to appear, he's like a book, so easy to read and decipher, with his huge eyes and his lips always curling according to his feelings. Right now, Chanyeol looks confused, lost, and maybe a tad bit intimidated (which is flattering for Jongdae since Chanyeol looks like he could break him in two), but Jongdae doesn't see an ounce of lie on the taller man's face. If he's not lying then, why did Sehun go and tell him about that?

Because they're a family, Jongdae realises. And because Sehun wanted to make sure Chanyeol and Baekhyun would be on their guard, just in case. He needed a real threat for that, and he simply went for the truth, but hiding it in thick layers of omissions. That's also why Chanyeol is questionning Jongdae about it, not because he's blaming him and judging him, but because he's worried for his friends, his family.

Jongdae gives Chanyeol a faint smile, and finally shakes his head.

“They didn't look like they were living in the area,” he tells him. “I'm almost sure they left, but we should still be careful, just in case.”

Now it's relief that is washing over Chanyeol's face, and Jongdae only then realises that he was fidgeting with his fingers before, obviously nervous about what Jongdae's answer would be. He finds himself wondering if Chanyeol was also worried about him, or if it was just about Sehun and Baekhyun, but he quickly dismisses the though. It doesn't matter, it shouldn't matter. He feels safe here, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol's way to act around him, now friendly and warm, has a lot to do with it. Jongdae shouldn't be asking for more.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol smiles at him.

“Don't mention it,” Jongdae muffles.

He turns around and grabs the bag of chips again, pretending to be considering where to put it when he's actually waiting for Chanyeol to step out of the room. But when the so desired footsteps still don't come, Jongdae looks over, frowning.

Chanyeol is still there, hesitating.

“I'm-I'm very sorry about your friends,” he says to Jongdae again.

“I know,” Jongdae answers. “You told me already.”

Chanyeol nods. “That's because I really am.” He pauses. “Sorry for your friends, I mean. And you.”

Jongdae slowly nods. In all honesty, he's sorry too, but last time he thought about how sorry he was, it made him break, and he can't have that again. That's how the world works now, things are bound to get lost, to disappear between hungry jaws, and if you can't handle it, you're probably the next. That was what Jongdae used to mentally reproach Jongin and Yeri, that they weren't ready for the new rules, and he doesn't like to think he isn't as well.

He turns around again, dismissing thought of Jongin and Yeri, and Seulgi and Soojung that were so ready they lost everything and kept breathing (or at least Jongdae really hopes so), and finally puts back the bag of chips on the first pile. He's aware of Chanyeol's eyes following his every gesture and digging through his nape, but he does his best to appear indifferent, until Chanyeol finally steps further into the room.

“You know what?” Chanyeol asks with a cheerful voice that doesn't match with the heavy atmosphere and the worry flooding his eyes. “I'm gonna tidy my side up as well! I hope you weren't planning on cheating.”

Jongdae watches him as Chanyeol walks to the first pile on his side of the room, and almost makes it all crumble down when he tries to move it. Jongdae clearly hears Baekhyun's sigh in his mind, the very same sigh he hears everytime Chanyeol messes up. It's funny, honestly, how both Baekhyun and Sehun seems to be under Chanyeol's orders, as if the latter was their leader even though he's sometimes so clumsy Jongdae wonders how he didn't end up nailed to the trees with the rest of the house. He did build the tree house though, with his bare hands, so Jongdae guesses it makes him the best choice for a leader. That, and how worried he is for his friends, how much he cares. And right now, Chanyeol is caring about him.

It forces a smile out of Jongdae. He watches Chanyeol's huge palms ruffling through the stack of food, and internally winces at the mess Chanyeol is making as he tries to tidy it all up.

“We'll win fair and square,” Jongdae says with a smirk. “I don't need to cheat. You on the other hand...”

Chanyeol looks up, and when his eyes settle on Jongdae's, the latter makes sure to send him a softer smile, one that, he hopes, will say thank you better than he could ever do. Chanyeol gets the message, of course he does, because he slightly nods, grinning as well, and goes back to ruffling through the food. He has no idea how to tidy it up, Jongdae quickly realises, so he only pretends to. Jongdae lets him think he's tricking him though, because he's afraid that pointing him will leave Chanyeol without any excuse to stay with him, and Jongdae obviously doesn't want that.

The bag of chips falling for the second time has Jongdae's mind wandering back to Sehun, and he suddenly realises how much Sehun knows about him. Back then, Jongdae would have considered every detail he handed Sehun like a weapon the latter could use against him, and that's exactly what he had thought he did when Chanyeol questioned him. Now, it's different though. Or maybe it isn't, but it couldn't be further from Jongdae's mind. All he can think about is how much Sehun knows about him, and how little heknows about Sehun.

More than frightening him, it actually makes him eager.

It's not until the sun is rising high above their head, while the darkness of the bedroom engulfes both Jongdae and Sehun, that the thought, lingering and hypnotizing, finally words itself in Jongdae's mind. He's been lying with his eyes wide opened at the shadow around them for a couple of hours, unable to find sleep, and from the lack of low and faint snores, he can tell Sehun is struggling as well. Jongdae knows all the reasons why hecould face insomnia, but he knows nothing about Sehun's. The room is large, large enough for both Jongdae and Sehun to sleep spread out on the blankets without touching each other, but with the realisation that Sehun is still awake comes the feeling that the walls are closing in on them. Jongdae turns his head on the right, where he knows Sehun is lying, and soon enough, the latter turns into a hypnotizing thought that Jongdae can't dismiss anymore. The world outside, the sun and the danger, it all suddenly doesn't matter anymore. All that matters are the few inches between him and Sehun.

“Why did you enlist so early?” Jongdae says.

Sehun's reaction is immediate. He chuckles, then shifts his position on the blankets with a faint ruffling sound. Jongdae feels his breath graze his neck, and he startles, surprised. He hadn't thought Sehun was that close.

“Why not?” Sehun answers. “It's not like I had better to do.”

Jongdae frowns, suddenly deeply regretting that the total absence of light prevents him from seeing Sehun's expression. He has half a mind to reach out for the flashlight but he quickly changes his mind. He can't help but think that the darkness makes it easier, for both him and Sehun. Jongdae does the maths, toys with Sehun's age until he comes to the conclusion that Sehun was only twenty years old when he enlisted. Jongdae himself had planned his military service to be around his twenty fifth birthday. He can think of a billion of things Sehun could have done instead of enrolling, and the biggest of them being, of course, going to university.

“What about university?” Jongdae asks, pushing. Sehun's half confession about his former life made him way too curious to mind about limits.

Sehun lets out a drawn out sigh that crashes against Jongdae's face, and forces a smile out of the latter. The darkness has made his senses sharper, and in the nothingness that surrounds him, it's so easy to catch tiny bits of Sehun, the most obvious one being the faint smell of sap that seems to be sticking to the latter's skin.

“That's exactly what my parents asked me when I enlisted,” Sehun says. He pauses, then adds with a chuckling voice. “It sounds so laughable now, but back then I couldn't stand what they had planned for me. Taking over the family business, all that stuff... I enlisted to run away from them, and it worked so well actually that I never saw them again.”

Jongdae thinks about his own parents, so loving and supporting, screaming at the top of their lungs behind the bathroom door, and tearing their skin apart trying to break it with their heads. No doubt Sehun's parents have gone through the same thing, but Jongdae can't help but realise how different it all could have been with just a few details changing. What if Sehun had been home? Maybe his parents would have gotten to him. What if Jongdeok and Jongdae would have been in the kitchen, helping their mother instead of playing video games? They didn't survive to the apocalypse by being skillfull and clever, it was mostly about luck back then. It's a strange game of circumstances that brought both he and Sehun right there, in the tree house.

“Do you think they were immune?” Jongdae asks.

Sehun doesn't answer, but the ruffling sound is enough of an answer. He's furiously shaking his head, and he's probably right, but it doesn't make it any less sad. Jongin, Jongdae suddenly thinks, would have shrugged, he would have said something stupid and useless along the lines of hope is still allowedas if he truly believed that hope wasallowed. They may be sharing the same birth year, but Sehun and Jongin couldn't have been any moredifferent.

“What about you?” Sehun says. His voice doesn't falter. Actually, he sounds like he almost always does. Jongdae has come to understand that it's because Sehun comes to terms with the current world more easily than he does.

“Did you have a job or something?” Sehun goes on.

“Yeah, I was a barman in a fancy club,” Jongdae answers with a smile. “The day it happened though, I was in my parents' house though. We were supposed to have a big family reunion dinner.”

“Oh, you had your own place?” Sehun whistles. “So grown-up!”

Jongdae snorts.

“Yeah, and I could open the fridge with my ass still on the bed, very grown-up indeed.”

Sehun chuckles, and Jongdae loses himself in memories, his own lips streched in a wide grin. It wasn't much of an appartment, but it was his very first home, and he was terribly proud.

“Tell me more,” Sehun asks him in a laughing voice. “What did you usually do on Saturday nights?”

Jongdae finally lets go of the darkness above him to look on his right, right where he knows Sehun is. It's as pitched-black as the void over his head, but in the game of shadows he thinks he sees, he's convinced he manages to catch some of Sehun's features. He can picture the latter's grin so well, his pointy canines and the lines it has drawn on the corner of his eyes, and the thought only manages to force another wide smile out of Jongdae.

“I was a barman” he says with a mocking tone. “On Saturday nights, I was working.”

“What about the other nights? Were you more into wild nights out or cosy and peaceful nights with your TV?”

“Nights out, but not wild. I liked noraebangs.”

“Oh, I see,” Sehun says. Jongdae feels his lips stretch even wider. He knows Sehun is nodding, true to his habit. “You were that kind of guy.”

Jongdae chuckles. He palms in the darkness, until his fingers finally reach Sehun's arm, and then he playfully shoves him. His eyes are still settled on the dark where he knows Sehun's face is, but he's not even aware he doesn't actually see him anymore, for they shared enough conversations for Jongdae to know by heart how expressions and feelings spread out on Sehun's face. That smug tone, the laughter behind his words, this is were Sehun is the most beautiful to Jongdae; when his eyes are fleeting, or at least trying to, to match with the joke, but they actually keep coming back to Jongdae's face, lingering and always so intense.

Jongdae reaches out, a weigh suddenly crushing his heart. When his fingers settle on Sehun's wrist, they clench around it like claws. In the void around them, it's so easy for him to hear Sehun's breath hitch.

“What about you?” Jongdae asks. “What did you usually do?”

Sehun doesn't answer right away, but the silence isn't crushing. Jongdae uses it well as he paints Sehun's face over his retinas, and the smile probably stretching his lips right now.

“I was more of a video game dude, to be honest. I didn't have much friends.”

Jongdae chuckles. “Look where playing League of Legend got you.”

“Man, I really liked LOL,” Sehun sighs, wistfully.

Jongdae snorts, smiling so hard that his jaws almost hurt. Silence settles between him and Sehun, but it's a fragile and full of expectation one. Something is coming their way, but it's definitely not sleep.

Sehun shifts on the blankets, wriggling his wrist out of Jongdae's fingers, only to replace it by his own. They lack in synchronization, and as they try to link them, both their index fingers crash while the others successfully intertwine. Sehun's fingertip slide down along Jongdae's index, and then up, his touch light but so overwhelming. Jongdae closes his eyes, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

“What did you like the most? Coffee or tea?” Sehun asks in a whisper.

“Coffee,” Jongdae says. “But only americano. I used to go through most of my days pumped up on caffeine, especially after long shifts.”

Sehun's finger catches in the lines marking Jongdae's phalanges, and it slowly follows them until it's on the other side of Jongdae's finger. Sehun explores this new side thoroughly, finally ending on Jongdae's nail.

“How about you?” Jongdae says, smiling to the emptiness.

“Tea. Coffee's smell is really... ugh.”

Jongdae chuckles.

“Pizza or hamburger?” Sehun continues.

“Hamburger. You?”

“Same. But the best is defintely pizza and hamburger.”

Jongdae snorts, rolling on his side to muffle his laughter on the blanket. His movement presses both his and Sehun's hands, still tightly linked, on the blankets, right under his hipbone. Sehun's body follows instinctively his, and he rolls as well, his shoulder soon bumping into Jongdae's and his free hand curling on Jongdae's nape.

“Sweet or savory snacks?” Sehun asks, his breath even hotter now that it's only a few inches away from Jongdae's temple.

“Savory,” Jongdae answers. He feels somehow so distant from the world, so distant from everything, except from Sehun. “Unless it's chocolate. Chocolate wins everything.”

“It does,” Sehun nods. His chin hits Jongdae's head. “Oops, sorry.”

Jongdae chuckles. His and Sehun's hands are still under his hipbone, digging painfully into the thin flesh there, but Jongdae wouldn't move for the world. He breathes in, the oxygen now leaving a strong taste of sap on the tip of his tongue, and asks, in a low voice, cats or dogs?. Sehun answers with a just as low puppies and kittens, and it goes on and on, from the most crucial questions ( Favorite singer or bands?), to the most derisory ones ( Caps or beanies?). Jongdae asks, sometimes it's Sehun, but they both answer everytime, and Jongdae's mind, although tired, eagerly feeds on every tiny detail.

Hours pass by, leaving Jongdae's arm, still under them, numb and cold. Sehun's hand is still curling on his nape, and Sehun's breath keeps fanning over his forehead. They've stopped talking though, both too tired to gather the strength to open their mouths, but silence doesn't feel heavy at all. Outside, the world is slowly getting ready for the night taking over the far end of the sky, and they only know it because of the noises Baekhyun and Chanyeol make as they wake up and get ready for another raid.

“What do you think of staying and just sleeping?” Sehun mumbles, barely understandable.

Jongdae slowly nods. He can't even remember if his eyes are closed or not, but blinking to check sounds so hard right now, so useless. He could just sleep with his eyes opened, it's as dark in the room as on the back of his eyelids.

“I'm saying it's a great idea,” he says. “Let's give them a day of lead, it'll make the competition fairer.”

Sehun chuckles, the sound broken and almost immediately dying down in the back of his throat. He snuggles closer to Jongdae, who lets him finally pull out their hands to bring them on the blankets between their chests. His breathing then slows down, curling against Jongdae's forehead in longer, slower, and somehow soothing, exhalations. They're the last push Jongdae needed to fall into a deep slumber, and they lull him to sleep so well that not even a last thought can shape itself in his mind.

“Come on, Sehun, there's nothing here,” Jongdae whines.

Sehun doesn't even spare him a glance as he opens the drawers of a very large desk, his gesture sharp and hasty. It's the second room he's turned upside down, not to mention the whole first floor, even though both their bags, that Jongdae is carrying with difficulty, are full to the breaking point. They've gathered all the food that still can be eaten, and even a few other useful things, but Sehun was very intent in going through allthe rooms again, a very different treasure in mind.

“Sehun,” Jongdae says againn standing on the threshold of the room. “This is ridiculous, look at those posters, it was obviously a teenager's room, do you really they would have a vinyl player in their room?”

Sehun opens the last drawer with too much strength, and it falls at his feet, with everything that was inside-mostly pens and sheets of papers. He looks down at the mess and gives a light kick at one of the pencil that flies across the room. He looks like a kid that has been trying to find the Christmas presents for the whole day to finally admit his failure, and Jongdae can't help a light chuckle.

“Did youhave a vinyl player?” he asks.

Sehun glances at him, through long bangs. He shakes his head, slightly pouting.

“How it is that you think everyone had one, then?” Jongdae teases, which has Sehun straightening to glare at him.

“It's called hope, you heartless man.”

Jongdae shrugs, Sehun's tentative at cursing him only making his smile grow wider. Sehun deflates and throws one last look at the room. He then turns on his heels and walks back to Jongdae, immediately bending down to take back his bag.

“I just want to hear the end of the song,” he confesses in a whisper-like voice.

Jongdae nods with a little smile, putting his own bag on his back.

“I know. Me too.”

They exchange a long look, and Jongdae knows that, just like him, Sehun is thinking about the Italian song, trying to remember the exact intonations, how the voice sounded and the smooth guitar notes that went along with it. It's now a blurry memory, still not far enough to drown in detached indifference though, and in all honesty, Jongdae doubts it one day will be.

“There are computers in every house we go through,” Sehun says. Jongdae nods, questioning. “It's so frustrating, I wish I could turn them on and check the lyrics, and then go on Youtube and--”

“We're in China, Sehun,” Jongdae interrupts him with a little smile. “No Youtube here.”

Sehun throws him a surprised glance, taken aback. Jongdae's words seem to take a little time to register in his mind, but when they do, Sehun lets out a chuckle that has his eyes turning into sparkling crescents.

“You're right,” he says, nodding like he always does, most of the time for himself. With another smile for Jongdae, he puts his hand on the small of the latter's back and motions towards the stairs with a light tilt of the head. “Let's get back home.”

Jongdae nods, sliding his own hand down to his machete, finger following the handle instinctively. He feels the weight of the gun against his opposite hipbone, and a glance behind him tells him Sehun's own weapons are still right where they should be, in his belt. Sehun catches his gaze, and the smile on his lips only widens, but he doesn't say anything, instead wordlessly guiding Jongdae on the first few steps down the stairs. Jongdae allows himself a smile as well, before effortlessly going back to scanning the heavy silence around them.

Sehun never disrupts the silence, like Jongin did as if it was nothing. Sehun knows how important it is to be able to catch the things that are not so silent, unlike Yeri, who thought silence was made to be filled by words. It's what makes leaving to hunt with Sehun so easy, because it's like being alone, and Jongdae has only felt safe when he was alone, when there was nothing but him to look for, nothing but his life that could be lost. In a way, it's like Sehun wasn't even here when it's actually very, verydifferent.

The fifth step down the stairs crack under Jongdae's sole, and they both startle, instinctively bending their knees, eyes wide opened at the darkness around them. Jongdae catches terrifying shadows playing along the windows of the living room, but because they've searched thoroughly the room when they entered the house earlier, he knows it's nothing more than branches slipping through the holes in the window, and leaves pressing against the glass, like ghost faces. Jongdae allows himself to breath again. He glances at Sehun over his shoulder, and catches the latter with a hand on his gun. They exchange a look that relaxes both of them. Sehun nods, and motions towards the door again. Jongdae wordlessly agrees before they finally both stand up again.

The next noise is very different from the step cracking under their weights. Considering that they haven't moved yet, they both know they didn't make thatsound. Just like they know that the crispy sound comes from outside the house, from the very same gravels they had to walk on to reach the front door of the house.

Sehun's hand immediately lets go of his gun, and shoots straight at the handle of Jongdae's bag. He grabs it, and drags Jongdae backwards. He pulls so hard that Jongdae almost loses his balance, bitting down a curse, but he manages to get back on his feet. He follows Sehun up the stairs, as voices echo on the patio.

“That house looks fine, doesn't it? We could stay here for a few days, just to get a little rest,” someone says.

Jongdae and Sehun both freeze in the hallway as the front door opens downstairs. They spent just enough time in the house to know that only their feet can be seen from the threshold, and although it can easily be missed, if they move now, the movement could attract unwanted eyes on them. Sehun looks down at Jongdae, fear hardly taking over his features, and Jongdae holds his gaze with a strong and overwhelming calm. They both close their fingers around the handle of their guns, calming down their breathing hard-hit by the adrenaline still flooding their veins.

“What if the house is already taken?” another voice says downstairs. Jongdae is so tempted to look down, to try and catch the positions of those they might have to kill sooner or later, but Sehun's eyes, dark and so strong, hold him.

Someone chuckles, and it's enough of an answer for Jongdae. They'll have to kill to save their lives, because that laugh was not teasing or amused, it was cold and pumped on cruelty, as if its owner didn't think that the end of the world could be applied to him the same way it's applied to others. With a frown, Sehun draws out his gun, slowly, as silently as he can, and Jongdae mimicks him, taking in a long breath.

“Then I'll kill them and take what they have,” the first man says.

“Sounds fine to me,” the second man chuckles. Another one joins him, and Jongdae realises they're outnumbered. From what they've heard so far, they are three of them. And there could be even more.

“Okay, so-hey! What was that?!”

Both Sehun and Jongdae don't wait to know what it was exactly, because the sudden exclamation has the man already in the house drawing back on the patio. Jongdae grabs Sehun's hand just as the latter makes to take his, and they both dart off towards what probably was the parents' room. Sehun heads straight towards the balcony while Jongdae stops in the middle of the room, turns on his heels and aims at the door. Behind his back, Sehun inspects the balcony, and when Jongdae glances over his shoulder two seconds later, Sehun has disappeared.

Jongdae takes another look at the door, his gun still between him and the black square opening on the hallway. He takes a first tentative step back, and finally turns around, straight to the balcony, when nothing happens. Whatever has held the men back, it probably won't keep them for long, and Jongdae knows better than to linger.

Now on the balcony, he looks around, and can't help a smile when he sees Sehun, crouched down on the roof ending in a soft slope just next to the railing. Sehun winks at him and holds his hand out. Jongdae doesn't even hesitate as he walks with long strides to the railing. He throws his body upwards to take Sehun's hand and puts his foot on the railing at the same time. Sehun flashes him a wide smile as his fingers close on Jongdae's fingers, and he pulls him up, helping him on the roof. Now back at sharing the same space, their eyes catch again, and despite the urgency of the situation, Sehun's turn into crescents again. He presses a finger against his lips, and tightens his hold on Jongdae's hand. Jongdae looks over his shoulder to see the men - they're five, fuck-, still on the gravels. Three of them are searching through the thick thickets, while the others watch them from afar, their guns aiming at the same thickets. They're heavily weaponed, Jongdae immediately notices. If they were to fight, he and Sehun against them, he wouldn't bet on their side. He grimaces, following Sehun now dragging him up the roof. When they get there, they both carefully step on the other side, where the roof keeps going in another slope, pointing towards the opposite direction. Exchanging another look, Sehun and Jongdae lie down on the tiles. The night, although more grey than pitched-black tonight because of the round moon above their heads, should be enough to help them hide. They'll probably have to wait for the sun to rise to go back to the three house, which will be dangerous and risky, but they can make it. They made it before.

“What are they looking for...?” Sehun whispers, so low that it almost gets lost in the few inches between him and Jongdae.

Jongdae slowly shrugs. He takes a quick peek above the tiles to see that the men are still searching through the dense and invasive vegetation. What did they see, indeed? An animal maybe? But are they really expecting it to still be there with the commotion of their intense searching session? Jongdae finds himself intrigued, curiosity, once again, taking the best of him, and he sticks his head a little more, squinting his eyes at the trees around the house.

“Are you sure you saw a face?” one of the men asks, and another one, the one who searches with the most franctic gestures, furiously nods.

“There was someone watching us!” he retorts. “Right here!”

He points towards a particularly high and dense bush. Jongdae can't be sure from where he is, and with shadows playing in field of vision, but from the look of it, the bush looks large enough to hide a man. He glances at Sehun, who is also frowning at the scene down there, and tries not to worry. He just hopes they won't be caught in the crossfires between two gangs.

A cold shudder curling down his spine, Jongdae squints harder at the bush the man has pointed, eyes going a little higher between each blink, as he tries to see what has scared the intruder. He thinks he sees something between two trees, a fleeting movement that only leaves a branch slightly swaying in the still air. Jongdae holds his breath, propping himself up on his elbows, leaning forward without noticing, his eyes glued to the branch. His heart is beating erratically is his chest, jumping up his throat with every beat, and cold sweat is now covering his forehead. There's something down there, he would bet his life on it, but he can't see what--

Jongdae lets out a sudden gasp as a dirty face pops up between the branches, yellowish and blod-shot eyes looking straight at him. The moon makes the pus on the face darker than it is, and the foam sliding on the chin from between the two gnawed lips appears white, like sea foam, although not as pure. It's gone in a split second though, and Jongdae's gasp ends in a terrified whimper. He would recognize that face in less than a heartbeat.

“On the roof!” one of the men screams, pointing at Jongdae. “On the roof!”

He immediately aims and shoots, but Sehun's is quicker. He grabs Jongdae's belt and pulls him down before the bullet even hits the tiles.

“Fuck,” Sehun curses.

He turns around and sits to slide down the tiles, helping and securing his descent with his palms, and Jongdae follows, more out of instinct than by real need. He feels frozen and numb, bile filling his mouth. It can'tbe. He must have dreamed, he must have mistaken an owl for the face of the alpha, and its terrifying accuracy was only due to the number of times it has popped up in Jongdae's dream. They're so far from the city where Jongin died, and Infected don't usually travel. They form a pack, they build a nest, and they stay there, unless there's a big slaughter, like the one in Lyushunkou. Yeri's death wouldn't have been enough. It couldn't have been the alpha, it couldn't have been the--

“Jongdae!” Sehun hisses, and Jongdae blinks, only then realising he's still sitting on the edge of the roof, legs dangling off the edge. Sehun is watching him with big eyes. “The gutter, Jongdae!”

Jongdae nods, immediately turning around to put both his feet on each side of the gutter first to secure his position. While he slides down, Sehun runs to the corner of the wall, but he immediately retreats with a jump, and another gunshot slices the night. Sehun puts the tip of his gun past the corner and shots, not even taking the time to aim. He's only trying to slow down the men, buying he and Jongdae some time so they can run straight into the woods. A confrontation wouldn't end well for them.

Jongdae jumps off the gutter, landing in the high grass.

“Sehun!” he calls him out.

Sehun nods and turns around, dashing off. Jongdae follows suit, shooting over his shoulder two times to make sure the men will stay under cover a few precious seconds more, until he and Sehun runs between the trees. Ahead of him, Sehun has put back his gun in his belt, and replaced it with his bow. There's an arrow already nocked in, Sehun's fingers blocking its tail as he draws his bow and jumps over a bundle of roots. He finally stops dead in his track, for barely a split second, but it's enough for him to aim and shoot. The arrow flies away with a low whistle, and Sehun has set off again before it hits its target. Because it does hit its target. Jongdae didn't doubt it, that's why hedidn't stop running, so when he reaches the huge cryptomeria tree a few steps ahead, the rope ladder is already unfolding between the branches. Its bottom lands on the ground with a soft thud, and Jongdae doesn't wait until it has stopped swaying to jump on it. He climbs up the first rungs, the shoots of the men behind making him speed up even more, so much that the ladder's rocking get dangerous, his knuckles brushing against the trunk a few times. He was expecting both his and Sehun's weights to stabilize the ladder, but it obviously doesn't happen.

Jongdae throws a look over his shoulder to check on Sehun, but his blood turns into ice when he doesn't see anything else than the swaying rungs under him. His breath dies down in the back of his throat, and the rising panic in his chest keeps it there, suffocating him. Jongdae furiously squints his eyes at the ground under him, heart beating loudly against his ribcage.

“Sehun...?” he whispers, but he doesn't hear anything else than the men running straight into the woods, and screaming at each others directions and orders. Jongdae bites back a whimper, his fingers clenching on the rungs.

“Sehun...” he says again, his voice breaking down. He feels so scared, frozen on the spot, like all those fears he felt before were nothing compared to that. Did the alpha catch Sehun...? Running through the trees had helped him get a grip on himself, and he had realised that with the darkness, and the branches, he couldn't be sure of what he saw, but now...?

Mentally shaking himself, Jongdae swallows down the overwhelming fear and determinedly starts going down the rungs. There was no Infected, what he saw was only moonlight playing in the leaves, which means Sehun is still down there. The men are getting closer as they search every thicket and bush so Jongdae needs to be quick. Sehun may have fell, and with the intruders that close, he couldn't scream for Jongdae to help him. Urgence washes over Jongdae as he hurries down a few rungs.

An arrow suddenly burries itself in the trunk, its tail grazing Jongdae's fingers. The latter immediately stops, and turns as much as he can on the ladder, retracing with his eyes the arrow's trajectory. Relief washes over him when he spots Sehun up in a tree, his back against the large trunk and his bow lowered. He raises a hand towards Jongdae and gestures him to keep climbing, pressing. Jongdae winces when he realises two of the men are not even two trees from him, still searching through the vegetation with their guns secured in their hands. He glances at the platform above his head. He'll never make it, and hurrying to get there could be too noisy.

Jongdae mentally curses as he pulls out his machete and crouches down on the ladder, securing his position with his left hand. His muscles burn as he stretches down his arm holding the machete, until the blade catches a rung under him. Jongdae pulls on it, straightening up on the ladder, and bites the rung he pulled up so that he can safely replace the machete in his belt. He then takes the rung in his hand and pulls up the rest of the ladder under him, gathering it against his chest. He only has to hope that darkness and the leaves arround him will be enough to hide him if the men suddenly decide to look up. It's a chance, honestly, that fall is still a few days later, because without the dense foliage, he would have been spotted so easily. The same can be applied to Sehun, who despite having climbed up a tree, hasn't gone that high, just like Jongdae.

“They're probably far now,” one of the men says under him, and Jongdae closes his eyes.

“No,” the other answers. The intonations are cold, angry. Jongdae is almost sure he's the one who laughed. “We would have heard them run through the forest if they had kept going. I'm sure they're hidden somewhere.”

“Maybe, but with how dark it is, we won't find them...”

The other man sigh, and Jongdae hears some ruffling, followed by a sudden thud, as though something had been thrown against the trunk, that has him startling. He almost drops the ladder, but quickly secures it between his chest and the trunk. The sharp gesture has the ladder sway. It rubs against the trunk, slightly, barely, but in the silence around them, it could have might as well been a detonation. Jongdae opens his eyes, mentally cursing.

“Did you hear that?”

Jongdae looks down, his heart jumping up his throat. He can't do much with how he's situated. He needs to hold onto the ladder, and his other arm is busy keeping the rest of said ladder to fall down again. His body is pressing against the trunk, his weapons digging into his flesh, right there, but frustratingly out of reach. Taking one would mean falling for Jongdae, and most surely bleeding.

He glances over his shoulder as the men are now searching through the bushes around the bottom of his tree's trunk. Please don't look up,he thinks, like a mantra. Don't look up, don't look up.But the fear flooding his veins is nothing compared to what seizes him when he sees Sehun hoping on his branch, almost running to its tip, where it's so thin that it could break any minute. Jondgae wants to scream at him. What the fuck is he doing? He should be against the trunk, hiding in the dark instead of coming out of the foliage, what the fuck is he--

Jongdae freezes when Sehun finally stops, his feet firmly planted on the branch. The moon is lighting up his whole face now, silver against the darkness of his hair, the sharpness of his eyebrows, and the cold determination in his eyes. Terrified, Jongdae watches him dive a firm hand in the quiver and pulls out two arrows that he nocks immediately, one above the other. He stretches his bow and aims at the men, and Jongdae mentally whimpers. Sehun is taking too much risk for him, he should still be hidding, he shouldn't be ready to shoot, not with more men on their trails. Sehun knows better, he's a careful and smart man, but there's something different about him this time. His eyes are fixated on the men, determined, angry, and with the moonlight engulfing him, Jongdae can even spot the vein popping out along his neckline, and his jaws clenched hard.

One of the men turn on his heels, squinting his eyes at the trunk of Sehun's tree.

“Didn't it come from there?” he asks, and the other straightens, pulling his head out of the bush he's been searching through. They exchange a look, and he shrugs before they both walk to Sehun's tree.

Jongdae's heart is now pumping ice through his whole body as he desperatly tries to turn around. If one them glances up, Sehun is done, that's all it would take. A mindless, single look up. Terrified, Jongdae grabs the ladder with his second hand, the one already busy holding the rest of the ladder against his chest, which means he can only curl three fingers around the rope to secure himself. The effort has him shaking as he draws out his gun and aims at the men, half turned around. His fingers are burning against the rope, his muscles throbbing with pain as he tries to maintain his hold, but Jongdae doesn't move, determined to be the first one to shoot if the men spot Sehun.

One of the intruders sigh.

“I think you were right, they're gone...” The other keeps silence, so the man sighs again. “It was a good house, dammit. We can't stay here now, we need to find another one.”

“Yeah,” the other finally mumbles. “It sucks.”

Jongdae doesn't dare to move even as the men walk away, stopping to kick in a bush here and there. He follows them with the tip of his gun as much as he can, until he can't possibly turn around more without falling off the ladder, and only then does he lower his arm. He glances over his shoulder to see Sehun lower his bow as well. They exchange a look over the few leaves and branches. Moonlight is still showering Sehun in silver, erasing imperfections on his face and giving his tanned skin a pure-looking halo. Jongdae can even spot the freckles, like tiny specks of gold following the bridge of Sehun's nose and spreading under his eyes, merging with the intense look he's giving Jongdae. Jongdae's body suddenly aches with want, and need, but he can't move, pinned on the spot by Sehun's eyes. Sehun pulls the arrows back into his quiver, never leaving Jongdae's face even a split second.

The men's voices have faded into the silence, and the forest is falling back to its usual peacefulness when Jongdae finally closes his parted lips and looks away. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and lets go of the lower part of the ladder, the rungs unfolding until they reach the ground. Jondgae then grabs the arrow Sehun has shot on the trunk earlier, and pulls it out. Keeping it safe between his curled fingers, he starts going down the ladder, speeding up as he catches faint cracks behind him that tell him Sehun is also making his way down to the ground. Growing impatient with each rung, Jongdae finally jumps off the ladder when he reaches the last two meters. He lands with a soft thud, the thick moss under his soles muffling the sound. He turns around just when Sehun makes it to the ground as well, and he immediately looks over to Jongdae. Jondgae adjusts his bag on his back, his whole body, especially his arms, hurting with the amount of effort he had to use to hold on the ladder while the men were there, but it honestly doesn't matter as he walks to Sehun, the latter heading towards him as well.

They meet halfway, their arms opening and then closing around the other. Jongdae is tightening his hold on the arrow so much that he fears he might break it, but he doesn't seem to be able to loosen his grip. Sehun's fingers bury themselves in his hair, his other hand curling against the small of Jongdae's back, as Jongdae clenches his own fists against Sehun's back, the soft smell of sap filling his nose. He can hear Sehun's heart, beating so fast and so hard in his chest, and his own seems to answer with an equal intensity. He clenches his fists a little harder, and Sehun shifts in his arms, leaning down so he can bury his face in the crook of Jongdae's neck, and Jongdae presses his own against Sehun's collarbone.

It's so obvious now, he realises. So, so obvious. Things aren't changing anymore, he and Sehunaren't changing, because they've alreadychanged. It's done, and they're already on the other side.

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