2pm: paper planes
paper planes - pg-13
2pm: junho, wooyoung
end of the world fic
prompt from sadteeth
original post here
it felt like just yesterday they had been admiring the fourth reconstruction of the huge bridge that stretched across the han river. but that had been several years back. now, junho was alone.
he still hung around the bridge at night, side stepping the occasional refugee that would camp there. if he wandered enough with his flashlight in tow, he would wind up at the scribbles made in washable chalk that he'd drawn with wooyoung once upon a time. finding those faded marks was evidence enough that the friendship between junho and wooyoung had happened.
it's then that junho smiles in the dark, his shaking spotlight focusing on the thin flakes of dying memories. it's then he forgets a little that he's standing at the brink of the end.
when the night breeze brings sneezes, junho scuffles home, scrapping the heels of his sneakers in rhythm with a melody that he remembers from his past.
"only you. if it's you i can't live. only you can save me..."
during the daytime, he raids mini marts and vending machines. there's not much left, same with the people around town. junho sees the same hungry faces and wonders if his looks like one of them. it's been months since he's last looked in a mirror.
it doesn't really matter though. because the familiar faces aren't friends, they aren't family. if anything they're peers with something in common, lying in wait for another to fall out, which only means more food for the rest of them. if he had been looking for a face, he'd try to find one that could make junho let out a breath of relief. one that could make junho smile again.
junho doesn't search for anything more than physical sustenance. and even then, he doesn't really remember the point.
after scoring some moldy peanut butter sandwiches from a quickie mart, junho wanders again and ends up at the han river. he wonders if living through the advent of the end of the world makes him go back to primal roots or something. he finds the water oddly welcoming and peaceful.
if he looks hard enough into the water, he can see someone that looks a little like wooyoung. he throws his last sandwich to the birds in little pieces. they devour the moldy bread like vultures.
then junho takes out the advertisements and various scraps of paper he's been collecting from museums. once they had been things held precious. the age of technology had stopped the need for paper - everything had been virtual. but who is there to appreciate them now?
he folds them into multi-colored paper airplanes. and to silence the loneliness, he hums to himself.
"only you. if it's not you i can't be fixed. only you can stop these tears..."
junho climbs one leg of the bridge, the one right over his and wooyoung's concrete drawings from long ago. the precipice is far too high up, but he can cling to the lowest edge and still see far across the han river. he peeks his head out, like he did once with wooyoung when they were twelve and didn't know to be afraid of heights.
junho takes one airplane out. this one has sports the phone number of a night club; there is a silhouette of a voluptuous woman with outstretched hands. junho sends it off into the waters. it sails high until it nose dives into an undulating current. junho watches as it sinks slowly, then takes another paper plane into his hand.
beside him, junho can almost hear the pleasant laughter of his old friend. he laughs too and pushes off with his hands and feet when the paper planes have all made their course.
2pm: junho, wooyoung
end of the world fic
prompt from sadteeth
original post here
it felt like just yesterday they had been admiring the fourth reconstruction of the huge bridge that stretched across the han river. but that had been several years back. now, junho was alone.
he still hung around the bridge at night, side stepping the occasional refugee that would camp there. if he wandered enough with his flashlight in tow, he would wind up at the scribbles made in washable chalk that he'd drawn with wooyoung once upon a time. finding those faded marks was evidence enough that the friendship between junho and wooyoung had happened.
it's then that junho smiles in the dark, his shaking spotlight focusing on the thin flakes of dying memories. it's then he forgets a little that he's standing at the brink of the end.
when the night breeze brings sneezes, junho scuffles home, scrapping the heels of his sneakers in rhythm with a melody that he remembers from his past.
"only you. if it's you i can't live. only you can save me..."
during the daytime, he raids mini marts and vending machines. there's not much left, same with the people around town. junho sees the same hungry faces and wonders if his looks like one of them. it's been months since he's last looked in a mirror.
it doesn't really matter though. because the familiar faces aren't friends, they aren't family. if anything they're peers with something in common, lying in wait for another to fall out, which only means more food for the rest of them. if he had been looking for a face, he'd try to find one that could make junho let out a breath of relief. one that could make junho smile again.
junho doesn't search for anything more than physical sustenance. and even then, he doesn't really remember the point.
after scoring some moldy peanut butter sandwiches from a quickie mart, junho wanders again and ends up at the han river. he wonders if living through the advent of the end of the world makes him go back to primal roots or something. he finds the water oddly welcoming and peaceful.
if he looks hard enough into the water, he can see someone that looks a little like wooyoung. he throws his last sandwich to the birds in little pieces. they devour the moldy bread like vultures.
then junho takes out the advertisements and various scraps of paper he's been collecting from museums. once they had been things held precious. the age of technology had stopped the need for paper - everything had been virtual. but who is there to appreciate them now?
he folds them into multi-colored paper airplanes. and to silence the loneliness, he hums to himself.
"only you. if it's not you i can't be fixed. only you can stop these tears..."
junho climbs one leg of the bridge, the one right over his and wooyoung's concrete drawings from long ago. the precipice is far too high up, but he can cling to the lowest edge and still see far across the han river. he peeks his head out, like he did once with wooyoung when they were twelve and didn't know to be afraid of heights.
junho takes one airplane out. this one has sports the phone number of a night club; there is a silhouette of a voluptuous woman with outstretched hands. junho sends it off into the waters. it sails high until it nose dives into an undulating current. junho watches as it sinks slowly, then takes another paper plane into his hand.
beside him, junho can almost hear the pleasant laughter of his old friend. he laughs too and pushes off with his hands and feet when the paper planes have all made their course.