into the darkness we go for chulminator
Title: into the darkness we go
Recipient: chulminator
Pairing: ken/hongbin
Rating: pg13
Wordcount: 6300w
Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, and fighting, implied sexual endeavors
Summary: “you’d think we’re shadows,” he mutters.
they don’t have time.
well, they don’t actually have any time to start out with, but they manage. in a world where all you eat is bland bread three times a day and you’re surrounded by people that seem to blend in with the shadows - the shadows that they’re supposed to erase - being alone to do something remotely fun is a thing to treasure.
it’s always been a problem here, the nothingness and monotone routine. everyone here is probably composed out of bland bread.
“you’re,” jaehwan lets out, a half-hearted chuckle getting past his lips when hongbin gets stubborn about if they have time to take their pants off for a little bit in the hallway - they don’t, though hongbin insists every time - when they both know the alarms’ are going to blare in exactly four minutes. “impossible.”
hongbin just eyes him, with a little smile on his lips. while he’s unbuckling jaehwan’s belt.
it’s only the fourth time they’ve done this - making out, because there’s no way that jaehwan’s going to let hongbin suck him off in this hallway - but he can always feel the spark when they do. it’s a bit dizzying after years of having his head stuck in textbooks and being told he has to be picture perfect. even these past months, with him being told that he should just care for his family, his - can he even call them that? - friends, care about them so they don’t find a way out to find the darkness that would pull everything they know away.
but now, aboveground and not tied with anyone he knew, jaehwan finally can have a little taste of freedom.
there’s the sound of doors being opened. and yelling. and footsteps.
so of course, jaehwan snaps out of it and jerks hongbin’s hair with a light tug, forcing hongbin to look at his face. he looks - so good, eyes half-lidded and blinking and smiling and jaehwan has to remind himself that they do not have time. “i’m not going to be separated from you just because we were caught having a blowjob,” he reasons with hongbin, a firm hold on his dark hair. “not because of those leaders here.”
hongbin laughs, dimples forming. always so easy around each other. “another kiss, then.”
quick as a flash, he zips up jaehwan’s pants and buckles the belt up again, fast to his toes to kiss. they mold perfectly, and exactly how, jaehwan doesn’t know - but it does make blood rush to his ears, blocking his ears, only hearing hongbin’s heartbeat and everything else that’s his. a pleasant sigh’s bubbling up in their throats, and another kiss.
hongbin holds him like jaehwan would slip away from him anytime now.
they break apart just in time to see, over the balcony, an army clad in black with silver gun-like war weapons in their hands entering the ground below them. some orderly, some disorganized. hongbin and jaehwan are still shrouded in the darkness of the hallways, but there’s always a chance to be seen - so they rush to smooth out their uniform and sloppily brush their hair with their fingers.
jaehwan thinks about their own guns, safely stored beside them. he remembers struggling with them - he just voluntarily drafted here and no one was even there to teach him how to get hurt on a fight and how to even shoot with these things. when they’re not kissing, jaehwan and hongbin, they’re talking trash about how things are managed here.
the guns are lighter than ten handfuls of rocks, because the only thing those things shoot is highly concentrated light. it’s not about hurting anyone now.
as if on cue, hongbin hands him his gun.
“don’t get hurt out there,” he says, still with his eyes twinkling.
“don’t get lost inside the darkness,” jaehwan reminds back, mostly to himself - not noticing hongbin’s little grimace, but then he’s smiling, saluting, grinning to shake it off - and they both run to the opposites of each other’s direction, footsteps barely echoing with the orders barked below.
they do that a lot, running.
jaehwan doesn’t remember much.
the leaders here should really scavenge for masks. the smell of hopelessness and rotting hopes are always clogging everyone’s senses and brains.
he does, of course, remember that slight quirk of hongbin’s lips before he finally disappeared from jaehwan’s sight, grouped to another squad. it’s as if the whole lot of the people here knew that they’d be distracted in a fight with each other - and, in a sense, they were right. if they actually knew.
he sees glimpses of hongbin on fight, lights being beamed rapidly everywhere by him that it hurts his eyes. and surrounded by the rubbles and ashes and so many soot covering him, it reminds jaehwan of when he first saw him, months ago, the first time he was aboveground in months.
hongbin looked exactly like he what he is now, face full of determination and a hardened look on his eyes - almost a bit manic - so unlike the eyes when he’s with jaehwan.
it puzzles jaehwan at times, to be honest, but he’s glad that hongbin - even just seemingly - trusts him.
and really, he has his own personal demons to fight, too.
“you’re filthy,” hongbin throws the still drying towel to jaehwan, amazingly already out of shower.
their beds are bunked, shifted uncomfortably to the side of the wall (he can always feel the rough texture of the vertical surface when he’s trying to sleep - and he’s pretty sure hongbin does, too, based on all the creaking of the mattress when he shifts his body uncomfortably above jaehwan). the room itself is small anyway.
most of the people building these rooms apparently didn’t expect two giants to huddle in the same space. it’s almost comparable to jaehwan’s own room underground in the bunker, the smallness of it - but then hongbin’s here, so.
“aren’t we always,” jaehwan replies - not noticing (he’s always doing that, not noticing) what his words can also mean, earning a mildly scandalized look from hongbin.
his words aren’t fully true, though - the meaning that jaehwan thought when he uttered those words. they’re always sure to scrub away the remains of the outside world when they’re in there - jaehwan’s hopes of fresh air were already thinned to a mild zero when he first stepped out of the compound - and hongbin’s a bit of a cleaning person, so he’s always arranging both of their clothes and shoes, their guns are already polished for the next time they get out.
hongbin also makes sure to wipe clean jaehwan’s old glasses, kept in the drawer of the single desk that they have - ready for the time when they manage to find a relatively interesting novel that’s in a decent enough condition to read when they sometimes sneak outside.
“just shower,” hongbin urges. “dinner is in half an hour.”
jaehwan just loops the towel around his neck and wipes his face with it. he grimaces. little amount of blood and black stuff mixed together. “there’s still a lot of time, then.”
hongbin laughs - getting up, giving up with jaehwan’s simple logic. “fine,” he sighs, but his eyes are back with those twinkling mischievousness. “the more time to kiss you, then.”
jaehwan’s not sure if this is love or something like that, but he has a feeling that it is when hongbin pulls him to the bed with him - grease being smeared on hongbin’s face accidentally, but he doesn’t care, only laughs, and proceeds to work jaehwan into a melting mess. he likes it, this feeling - it’s more like flying than the feeling of falling that he experienced when hongbin first flashed his dimples to jaehwan, still on the day they met.
“all we do is kiss,” he hums. really. they’re too busy kissing to even talk. hongbin stops for a moment, eyelids opening and closing with a lazy smile on his lips.
“nothing wrong with that.”
jaehwan laughs. hongbin socks him and ends up kissing him until jaehwan’s pretty sure that his lips are becoming too soft - and he’s pretty sure that the mark he left on hongbin’s chest isn’t going to be gone in a day.
they should be worrying about the end of the world, should be worrying about the shadows that channel the power to wake up their worst memories and make them slowly choke on the smoke that can eradicate every human in this whole world, should be worrying about the leaders that don’t even train them to deal with the seemingly never-ending darkness, but jaehwan’s too busy drowning himself in this, something to make him forget.
it seems that hongbin’s doing that too, by how close and how desperate he’s closing in with jaehwan, fingers grasping along and wanting to be as close as he can together.
jaehwan doesn’t mind, doesn’t ask - because the almost silence that’s only filled with both of their breaths is a reminder that hongbin exists.
and that’s all that he asks for.
the next day is another morning dressed in black.
they both chuck the bland sandwich back to the storage (hongbin was the one who discovered it first, maybe not so accidentally dropping his meal and looking at the accidental hole beneath the container), and make a show of almost gagging on it. the others don’t pay attention to them, mainly immersed in their own conversations or too busy staring at the walls. all still, too still.
“you’d think we’re shadows,” hongbin mutters for the nth time.
“i do think that way,” jaehwan reassures him. “now let’s get back to bed.”
their footsteps now echo, the shoes they’ve arrived here in already worn out since a long time ago. the corridors are always lengthy and a bit of a too tight space for both of their liking, so they end up walking shoulder-to-shoulder. everyone’s apparently already gone to the mess hall - here being devoid of any living thing.
jaehwan nudges hongbin. “i feel like a ghost right now.”
“might as well be,” hongbin snorts - tone almost a bit bitter. bitter about knowing. bitter about everything. “if we aren’t quick to just get on with things here, we’d be just trawling outside with our minds being clouded by our worst memories.”
jaehwan’s not in the mood to think about that.
so he says the topic of their usual conversation - how fucked up the system is here. “no training,” he whistles instead. too loud - but if the leaders here do end up listening to his complaints, then good for them. “nothing. just being handed a gun and expected to fight and to endure it and not be hurt.”
hongbin stops in the front of their door and leans his body against it, all still looking very graceful - and what’s the word? model-like? he looks at jaehwan, as if he’s expecting him to do something. like speaking more.
“you’re full of hate this morning,” it’s back, his small, knowing, amused smile - and jaehwan can feel himself being smushed. in a good way. always in a good way. “it’s an amazing thing to see.”
“you’d be too if you shoot things in the trial-and-error way and not automatically good at that, lee hongbin.”
now hongbin’s smile is full-blown, almost a comical grin, his dimples looking so deep - and it’s that look he has when he’s about to try making a really stupid joke.
“crush the system, then.”
jaehwan blinks.
“…you’re better at kissing.”
hongbin just pouts. jaehwan realizes again that he’s truly blessed. “i knew there was something wrong with that joke,” he exhales - disappointed? hongbin’s truly full of wonders. he opens the door, body still facing towards jaehwan. links their fingers, tightening his grip. still smiling. he’s always doing that, jaehwan’s pretty sure that it’s his default expression. “and you’re right, anyway.”
always, jaehwan mouths.
they both stumble in.
let’s just say that they spend the day holed up there, kissing and doing pretty indecent stuff and shucking off their clothes to not remind them they’re just like dark shadows. talking a bit at times, hongbin laughing so loudly that jaehwan’s ears feel like they’re about to fall off - of course, all in a very good way.
they miss nothing in the mess hall. days are always like this. no one cares, anyway.
when the knock comes, jaehwan isn’t even sure if he’s dead or alive.
that’s because of the whispers and thuds. it doesn’t happen here - people are always silent. always wanting to not be noticed, wanting to be invisible. maybe not a want - it’s more because everyone is silent here. it’s weird to break away from that conformity. all being visible gets is weird looks. so jaehwan’s pretty sure he’s been killed in sleep or something and now the ghosts are whispering about him.
but then the knock comes again; he feels hongbin’s pulse beside him, and sits up.
he shakes hongbin’s sleeping form. “wake up,” he wants to shout - but it’s a whisper instead. “hey, hey.”
it’s only a split second after hongbin opened his eyes, but jaehwan’s already standing up, rummaging through their clothes while trying to make the room look decent. because no one - no one - knocks on their doors. everyone prefers solitariness here. it must be something really fucking important, then.
hongbin slurs something, eyes still half-opened, but he’s at least trying to pull his pants up.
the knocking is more insistent, and when they’re finally decent-looking and hongbin’s face is splattered with water, jaehwan opens the door.
his chest constricts and heart drops when he does see a leader.
“is lee hongbin here?” she says, voice light and airy. not like the gun she’s holding - it’s bigger-sized than the rest of them. jaehwan has seen her numerous times before, brunette hair fading to black and almost always ponytailed. “we need him.”
and hongbin’s fingers are grasping jaehwan’s shirt, a slight tug. he’s beside him now - a tight fit.
in the corner of his eyes, he sees hongbin eyeing the crowd out of their room, looking at them both and frozen. there’s a flock of the other leaders behind her - and they’re all looking at hongbin. jaehwan feels too tiny. hongbin’s assessing the situation, jaehwan guesses - his back then straightens out, an upward tilt of his lips that looks more like a small grimace - and he nods.
“yeah,” he answers. “that’s me.”
“come with us,” she orders, and turns her head toward the crowd. if it wasn’t her glare and her words and hard tone, jaehwan’s not sure what. “and people, please disperse.”
they do. it happens in just a few seconds that it would seem as if they just disappeared through the walls.
the tug on jaehwan’s back is harder now, almost threatening to rip the small piece of fabric out - but then hongbin’s going away from him, stepping out of the room, back poised and just generally looking uncomfortable. jaehwan’s worried. it’s the first time that hongbin just looks so uncomfortable here. even though everyone was awkward when they were first here, he never looks like that - it’s always, since the start, as if hongbin was already here once.
he stands beside the female leader. jaehwan looks to his lips just in time to see him mouthing: don’t worry. but there’s a slight quiver of lips.
“please come to the mess hall for breakfast today, lee jaehwan,” someone tuts in the back - a leader. hongbin looks back to the source of the voice - and jaehwan can hear it coming from the tuft of ash blond hair. the person sounds - cheery. amused. “important announcement coming up. and don’t think that we didn’t see you both throw the bread away.”
jaehwan’s pretty sure they both choked on their almost-laughter.
but as hongbin goes away, his posture doesn’t change.
confusion - it’s obvious, what he feels.
it’s jaehwan’s first time going anywhere without hongbin. they’re stuck with each other all the time since the start - and not having a shoulder next to him is weird. not having someone as tall as him and looking down over everyone is strange. it’s even stranger with people ignoring jaehwan when he’s alone - unsettling. it’s as if jaehwan became the first outcast here overnight.
forcing himself to stomach the bland bread in a table alone, not with hongbin’s laugh.
he hates the day already. even in this hellhole, at least hongbin makes it bearable.
the air doesn’t even have that strange atmosphere of relaxed uncertainty now. it’s more - choking. tense. everyone waiting for something to happen, and everyone knowing what exactly they are waiting for.
jaehwan’s like a left out kid.
he’s about to ignore that leader’s words about something important being announced, just about to pass out, when he hears a familiar name being spoken out.
“you know that lee hongbin?” it’s a hushed whisper, tone almost conspiratorial - and it should’ve been swallowed by the unusual chattering happening all around the mess hall, but jaehwan can only hear that. it’s from the table across him, but they don’t seem to notice jaehwan.
“that was wild,” another someone quips, and jaehwan’s a bit taken aback by the fact that people still use that word for a moment. but then the words come out again and he zones in. “a whole lot of leaders just shoved through the hallway and took him away.”
he tries his best to ignore the fact that they didn’t even say anything about lee hongbin’s roommate.
then there’s a sudden huddle. jaehwan’s senses suddenly just go overdrive at the movement. “there are rumors, you know,” the new person claims, voice so soft and quiet that jaehwan has to physically restrain himself from cocking his ear to listen clearer. “about him in battle.”
quiet oohs and aahs.
“i’ve seen him multiple times in battle,” the new one’s tone is so cocky and haughty. smug. “seen it with my own two eyes.”
there’s the sound of jostling and hisses of tell us tell us tell us.
“him,” the soft-voiced person relents, and jaehwan can only describe how he speaks those words it as curious and mildly frightened. fascinated. a bit unbelieving. “regenerating in the battle. skin patching up and stuff. never dying. kind of like those rumors of the people that succumbed under the black smoke.”
jaehwan’s breath gets stuck on his throat.
hold up. wait - what?
“you’re not serious,” someone hisses. there’s laughter, too. “we aren’t living in a paranormal world.”
part of him says it’s delusional. he agrees with that someone who hissed. it must’ve been someone’s overactive imagination in battle, muddled with the apocalyptic smoke delivering their worst memories. but then his jaehwan’s doesn’t just make him think of that - it thinks of the possibility that is real. the way hongbin was when he arrived here, practically already made out of shadows; the way he never appears hurt when the raid is over, the way that all the marks jaehwan made on him already gone in the next few hours.
the way hongbin gets uncomfortable when a mention of those people who’s stripped away by the smoke popped up.
a bubbling feeling of acid is felt in jaehwan’s abdomen, head just pounding, trying to just run to the nearest sink but it’s too late - and then it comes - the sick liquid coming out of his mouth and nostrils, eyes watering, chest heaving. someone screams. he’s pretty sure someone screamed.
he feels himself being moved, but jaehwan’s mind is somewhere else - nauseous and afraid of hongbin being too friendly with the darkness they both hate.
burning-up throat. and his eyes, against his wills, close.
“a hell lot of vomit you expelled there.”
for a while, he feels a lot better. everything is familiar. the warmth beside him. the voice. even the hard pillow supporting his head is all familiar and comforting. it would be nice, jaehwan thinks, if everything is like this forever.
but then he remembers and the nauseous feeling is back.
he sits up so forcefully that all the blood rushes down and his head feels too woozy - and he ends up slamming headfirst to hongbin’s chest, already getting up to help him, yet too late. the wooziness and dizziness is making him feel faint. but then hongbin’s cupping jaehwan’s cheeks, smiling, though - tired.
“you’re,” he manages throatily. “back.”
“you passed out for four hours, lee jaehwan.”
“oh.”
that explains why his muscles feel like rocks. and seeing hongbin’s tired his smile, his unblemished skin, his whole perfection - jaehwan feels a little guilty when he rises to kiss him up, coax the shirt away from him, and mouths on his neck - the sinking feeling is back.
no trace or marks of the imperfections that jaehwan imprinted on him. nothing.
“hey,” his voice is soft. but jaehwan’s pretty sure that it’s quivering too. “where’s the hickeys?”
hongbin pulls away from him, but his expression is guarded - so guarded and alarmed before it slips away. “gone,” he seems to remind. his eyes seem so tired that jaehwan’s a bit afraid that he would fall asleep on top of him.
uncertainty replaced with concern. “you okay?”
“it’s nothing,” and that smile is back. jaehwan finally realizes that it’s the same smile that hongbin gives when he starts to ask him about personal questions - the one that would distract jaehwan from the said question in the first place. “and it’s probably just my amazing body fixing things quickly.”
jaehwan swallows, throat dry. “yeah, he agrees. but he doesn’t. “not like me being clumsy.”
hongbin laughs, and jaehwan hates how it sounds so hollow for him.
he really can’t lie - not to this length, can he.
even their kisses decrease.
the leaders have actually found out about their complaints, according to the announcement - complaints from apparently all of them - and are now finally utilizing the training rooms that jaehwan didn’t even know existed. there’s a strict schedule now, and they both have to force themselves to eat the bread unless they want to pass out. jaehwan really suddenly misses how things were a few days ago. they’re separated again - really, like they know - and so hongbin and jaehwan’s time together is limited, both flopping to bed after a day of their bodies finally being moved and worked. not to the extent of complete exhaustion, but close.
(“i miss you,” hongbin mumbles in his state of sleep, confesses unconsciously, and jaehwan just reaches for his dangling hand and manages to hoist himself to kiss it.
his skin is cold.)
their raids frequent.
there’s that nagging feeling of being kept in the dark, even more than before, stronger. jaehwan now can remember, clearly, the lights shooting and the darkness dissipating on those fights, even though for only a moment - a long moment, but they will come again. it’s their job to keep the darkness out.
he remembers the blood and people’s anguished yelling. screams of help. light accidentally being beamed at his skin and almost charring it off.
it doesn’t help that hongbin’s away most of the time with the leaders - and no one knows what for. there’s the wonshik kid who’s called like that, too, along with the girls that came with him from the bunkers. they arrived late, and - and in the same condition as hongbin was in.
jaehwan just feels detached.
what’s even more unsettling when hongbin and jaehwan does have the energy to kiss, jaehwan’s body is a bloodied and battered mess while hongbin’s so perfect and pristine - even though they were in the same battle today, even though it’s only been an hour of resting.
“i miss you,” hongbin mutters, and jaehwan laughs. it feels good like this.
“i miss you,” he echoes. he misses - craves - knowing what they truly are, too.
everything is back to square one.
hongbin scratches his skin on purpose, tries to be clumsy on purpose, tries to take dumb risks to save the other people from injuries - but it doesn’t work. he slams himself inside the bathroom and checks, but there’s black clouding his scars, building things over it, healing yet making it worse.
he hates it. he hates how jaehwan doesn’t look at his skin, how jaehwan hesitates around him, sometimes even appearing to avoid him.
he hates how the leaders start to ask him questions about his past. he’s now here. he’s here. he’s back here to forget that, but the smoke that caught him in its lengthy and menacing fingers once just seems to not like that plan. trying hard to reel him in again.
hongbin hates how jaehwan comes to the room with eyebags adorning his face and freshly applied bandages all over his body. scars that healed being opened again.
hates how he can’t even do anything about it.
alarms blaring and body rigid.
jaehwan groans.
the habit of wearing those black uniforms to bed has already infected both hongbin and him since that morning when the darkness creeped in too close to their compound. the alarm had blasted when every one of them were asleep, still only in their sticky underwear, and the whole lot of them were threatened to succumb in the chaotic and dark smoke just because they weren't fast enough to get off their beds and put on some pants.
“where's the guns,” jaehwan blearily gurgles, voice still thick with sleepiness.
it was just this night when the last of those worst bruises got away, but now he is going to be back at the battlefield to get some new ones. he also hasn't had the chance to kiss hongbin before they went to sleep that night, even in the celebration of eating something else instead of bread - pasta, though it made him want to vomit because he was too used to eating bread.
hongbin yawns but he still manages the clamber down the top bunk.
“i haven't polished it,” he pointed out the obvious. they don't have any time to do that. it's all drilling your body until things like running around shooting light out of guns in just an hour becomes a little piece of cake.
jaehwan contemplates about running in battle barefooted.
“you're going to die stepping on those shrapnel instead of being injured in fight,” hongbin muses.
this is the first time jaehwan has ever just said his words out loud, but he's not even surprised. he probably did that numerous of times before and didn't notice it because of exhaustion.
the alarms are dull but still ringing inside jaehwan's ears, but he senses the urgency with the footsteps running outside his door. also yelling and shouting. just like that time where they were kissing inside the hallway. jaehwan has the sudden ache for that.
he just fixes up his boots quickly, retrieves the gun that hongbin had put beside him, on the bed’s messy and sheets-untucked-but-at-least-i-can-still-sleep state, and looks up at hongbin, who's staring at him, ready to go. the door is already slightly opened.
“good luck kiss,” he pleads, and he wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he definitely doesn't expect hongbin just rushing forward to him - almost losing grip on the gun, shoving him against a wall and filling jaehwan's everything with electricity sparks and everything wonderful spreading through his synapses and making eyes go too awake.
they end up almost being late, and both of them are put in the frontline as a punishment, but jaehwan has never felt so alive these past days except now. there’s the giddiness and the small sliver of smile on his face.
he misses this.
with the giddiness and the promise of sneaking out for the first time in weeks, jaehwan's a pretty happy man tonight.
though there is still, of course, injuries, he miraculously manages to avoid the worst ones. hongbin's out with his squad leader to report on the latest raid - jaehwan had not been offered that position by his squad leader. he figures out that he should train more and be not-clumsier so he can spend another type of quality time with hongbin.
he's not sure how to describe their relationship exactly, but boyfriends seems to be close.
hongbin would probably just fuss over him at those meetings and risk them being revealed, so that's another contemplation.
but he’s just so excited that he manages to scrub all the dust and everything away in shower, leaving only healing scars and bruises. he feels fresh. he also tidied up both of their beds and polished the guns. when jaehwan’s psyched, he ends up doing things like these quickly.
a knock comes.
there’s the sudden feeling of dread. hongbin usually just barges in the room and flops on jaehwan’s bed ungracefully at times like this.
rising up on his feet, striding to the door. unlatching, and then the guy with ash blond hair is standing in front of him - the same one that knew about hongbin and him wasting the bread. sanghyuk, the name is. his face is handsome and young, so it’s a bit weird when jaehwan realizes that the boy is taller than him.
anxiousness radiates from his face, though - is jaehwan imagining his uneasy pose?
“the meeting’s ended twenty minutes ago,” sanghyuk informs, but his voice suggests that there’s something else behind that statement. “is hongbin here?”
jaehwan’s whole body freezes.
“he’s,” he intones. his palms are growing clammy and cold at the same time. it’s uncomfortable and all jaehwan wants to do now is find hongbin and kiss him in both anger and relief. “not here.”
sanghyuk mutters a shit.
his mind almost shuts down at once. “what’s happening?” jaehwan demands, chest constricting as the possibilities flash inside his head. he tries to push them away and focus on the now: hongbin missing, but then it just won’t stop. the sick and dizzy feeling is back again to make him vomit, and his senses are going overdrive again, so it’s not a good feeling.
“the meeting was about taking extra precautions,” sanghyuk recalls, but his eyes are closed and forehead being covered by his hand. like he’s having a headache. “it’s been - affecting some people. more than ever. stronger. so strong that it -”
jaehwan drones the rest of words, because he realizes that hongbin - oh god, hongbin.
the words come out quick. “i’ll find him,” he volunteers, even though he doesn’t know what sanghyuk was talking about in the first place. “right now.”
“wait -”
but jaehwan’s already out, footsteps resounding around the hallway, his mind filling with the thoughts of hongbin. kisses and questions and words and hickeys and jokes and laughter - hongbin’s not going to just slip away from his fingers like that.
not like this.
sanghyuk swallows his words down and leans against the doorframe, reflexively reaching for his not-there weapon. his gun is at the office - a sorry attempt at an office. he runs his fingers through his hair, gripping it, releasing it. he’s fucked up. the other leaders are fucked up.
he’s half-convinced to just go inside their drink storage and pull out an expired soda.
brain’s not accepting it. he just sent out lee jaehwan in a fucked up experiment.
hongbin just wants to fucking cry when he finds out.
it’s the first time jaehwan has gone outside without a gun. he probably should’ve thought about that, but hongbin’s - he shuts that thought off.
the first is, of course, his whole senses being clogged and dulled. feeling as if he’s walking on a light sheen of cloud. it seems as if the smoke is feeding off his anxiety and uncertainty, seeping out every bad thought and leaving jaehwan with happy memories a blank slate.
he tries to focus on finding hongbin. that's the most important thing now. he shouldn't be put off course just because of the smoke that seems to thicken around him.
jaehwan's scared. it is, again, obvious. but he just needs to find hongbin, find themselves and put them back in one whole piece after this situation made of nightmare happened. maybe kiss the fuck out of him.
jaehwan doesn't know how hongbin does it. he, according to though the rumors, have crumbled under this whole thing once. jaehwan's never been outside since the whole black and dark air was detected here, because he was ushered - with everyone - underground.
it has only been like four months since the breakthrough way of fighting this apocalypse had been invented, people being gathered and recruited to fight it by the government. his family had forbade him to go - but he finally lost it three months later, fed up with having to life in the monotony and uncomfortable tension with them, and just packed up silently and joined the group. he was ready to leave everything and live a lonely and bitter life aboveground.
but then hongbin happened, and jaehwan has never felt so alive before.
it's thicker now, almost choking, the air - and the first memory of his parents being displeased pops up. his brother screaming at him. his mom breaking a vase. jaehwan's - jaehwan's not -
someone hollers his name out in the distance.
jaehwan can’t. he - fuck. it feels as if his ribcages are shrinking on his heart, threatening to make it burst out and he's - fuck. is this what they say when they losing themselves in this - he has never felt so lonely before. suffocated. his whole head is pounding and his vision is blurring and he can't even focus on the building in front of him, white and black and grey blending in together like dust settling on eyes and blurring people's vision.
inhales. his throat feels like acid instead and his insides burn.
it’s too late. and now it comes to the worst - hongbin.
hongbin hurt and dying and living all over and over again like a sick animation, a film jaehwan’s forced to watch forever. hongbin angered. crying. sobbing. crouching down, last kisses, and jaehwan just wants to - the voice comes again, broken and sad and pleading.
“i'm sorry,” jaehwan chokes out. his limbs feel numb. “hongb -”
he feels himself turning to dust and he doesn't even know if it's real. if it's just in his head or if he's becoming one of those shadow people. the tears won't come, his stomach just hurtles around like some kind of merry-go-round that's threatening to rip himself out.
this isn't right. he's here - for hongbin. jaehwan's here for hongbin and he hasn't found him yet, but he's here, dissolving to dust, emotions being sheared off and worst memories imprinted like tattoos on his head and he just can’t find hongbin -
“i'm sorry,” it's someone's familiar voice, stammering. a drop of something liquid lands on jaehwan's body. he feels thin and weightless. “you can’t - just do this to me why - why are you here -”
hongbin, jaehwan wants to respond, but his mouth feels like lead.
his vision suddenly clears and all he can see is light, light shooting, the smokiness getting away, and is that hongbin? feels like he's being anchored down again, but like a helium balloon being tied to a pole. ready to fly off at any moment.
his eyes are turning into smoke.
and now he stands, stumbling.
he’s not used to this.
hongbin stands at a distance, holding two guns. his and jaehwan’s. looking at the ground and not looking up. jaehwan would probably too if he saw hongbin being evaporated to dust and being put together again like a body made out of smoke and never dying. jaehwan had tested it himself, as morbid as it sounds. letting a rock fall flat to his arm, and feeling just fine in just a few minutes.
it feels like an eternity. it could have been - they’re both immortal now. he doesn't - he doesn't know how to approach this. so he asks.
they're both the same type of someone now, anyway.
“why didn’t you tell me,” jaehwan asks, quiet. guilt fills him a bit when he senses that his voice might have a little bit of anger and sadness hidden in it.
nothing like silence and their breathing going in and out. the smoke has cleared off for now, and for a good reason - they've finished taking jaehwan away from his body. so he’s never dying. living forever so they can feed on his worst memories when they're hungry. life is great.
“i'm afraid,” hongbin finally says something. his voice is tiny and guilty and everything that makes jaehwan's whole being constrict because - because it wasn't even hongbin's fault that he's the same as what jaehwan is now. that jaehwan is the same thing as he is now. he feels an odd sort of detachment, to the him yesterday. or just a few hours ago. he's not sure.
hongbin really does seem afraid. jaehwan, with a realization, feels like that way too.
“you're not alone, at least,” he doesn’t know why he tries to humor hongbin up with that. it's probably not going to work.
humoring him back. "i probably shouldn't be glad about that," mumbling.
jaehwan has all the rights to be mad at hongbin. to be sad. to just quit it and just leave hongbin alone. but then, jaehwan doesn't. it never was his fault, being like this, his worst memories pulled out and back. it's just - human, jaehwan guesses.
“you're not alone,” jaehwan reminds, and he's not sure if he's still standing when hongbin's eyes finally light up.
truthfully, jaehwan's still confused and still a whole lot of mixed emotions about what he is now, what's going to happen - but hongbin's here. he doesn’t hate jaehwan for being like this. and he's electrified. here and breathing the smoke. has never felt so alive.
ironic, it should be, but when hongbin just runs to jaehwan and tackles him down to kiss him full in the mouth and giggling and gasping and panting with him, jaehwan really hasn't lived before this. he just wants to smile. to laugh. to be with hongbin forever. try to make the marks that he imprints on him last longer as a game.
the darkness should be appalled. no one has ever shown any type of happiness aboveground since it forced them to retreat down and never coming up again unless it was for fighting them.
and they are.
notes: thank you chulminator for these prompts! i hope you still it~ million of hearts for tlist who has supported me doing this. thank you for reading!
Recipient: chulminator
Pairing: ken/hongbin
Rating: pg13
Wordcount: 6300w
Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, and fighting, implied sexual endeavors
Summary: “you’d think we’re shadows,” he mutters.
they don’t have time.
well, they don’t actually have any time to start out with, but they manage. in a world where all you eat is bland bread three times a day and you’re surrounded by people that seem to blend in with the shadows - the shadows that they’re supposed to erase - being alone to do something remotely fun is a thing to treasure.
it’s always been a problem here, the nothingness and monotone routine. everyone here is probably composed out of bland bread.
“you’re,” jaehwan lets out, a half-hearted chuckle getting past his lips when hongbin gets stubborn about if they have time to take their pants off for a little bit in the hallway - they don’t, though hongbin insists every time - when they both know the alarms’ are going to blare in exactly four minutes. “impossible.”
hongbin just eyes him, with a little smile on his lips. while he’s unbuckling jaehwan’s belt.
it’s only the fourth time they’ve done this - making out, because there’s no way that jaehwan’s going to let hongbin suck him off in this hallway - but he can always feel the spark when they do. it’s a bit dizzying after years of having his head stuck in textbooks and being told he has to be picture perfect. even these past months, with him being told that he should just care for his family, his - can he even call them that? - friends, care about them so they don’t find a way out to find the darkness that would pull everything they know away.
but now, aboveground and not tied with anyone he knew, jaehwan finally can have a little taste of freedom.
there’s the sound of doors being opened. and yelling. and footsteps.
so of course, jaehwan snaps out of it and jerks hongbin’s hair with a light tug, forcing hongbin to look at his face. he looks - so good, eyes half-lidded and blinking and smiling and jaehwan has to remind himself that they do not have time. “i’m not going to be separated from you just because we were caught having a blowjob,” he reasons with hongbin, a firm hold on his dark hair. “not because of those leaders here.”
hongbin laughs, dimples forming. always so easy around each other. “another kiss, then.”
quick as a flash, he zips up jaehwan’s pants and buckles the belt up again, fast to his toes to kiss. they mold perfectly, and exactly how, jaehwan doesn’t know - but it does make blood rush to his ears, blocking his ears, only hearing hongbin’s heartbeat and everything else that’s his. a pleasant sigh’s bubbling up in their throats, and another kiss.
hongbin holds him like jaehwan would slip away from him anytime now.
they break apart just in time to see, over the balcony, an army clad in black with silver gun-like war weapons in their hands entering the ground below them. some orderly, some disorganized. hongbin and jaehwan are still shrouded in the darkness of the hallways, but there’s always a chance to be seen - so they rush to smooth out their uniform and sloppily brush their hair with their fingers.
jaehwan thinks about their own guns, safely stored beside them. he remembers struggling with them - he just voluntarily drafted here and no one was even there to teach him how to get hurt on a fight and how to even shoot with these things. when they’re not kissing, jaehwan and hongbin, they’re talking trash about how things are managed here.
the guns are lighter than ten handfuls of rocks, because the only thing those things shoot is highly concentrated light. it’s not about hurting anyone now.
as if on cue, hongbin hands him his gun.
“don’t get hurt out there,” he says, still with his eyes twinkling.
“don’t get lost inside the darkness,” jaehwan reminds back, mostly to himself - not noticing hongbin’s little grimace, but then he’s smiling, saluting, grinning to shake it off - and they both run to the opposites of each other’s direction, footsteps barely echoing with the orders barked below.
they do that a lot, running.
jaehwan doesn’t remember much.
the leaders here should really scavenge for masks. the smell of hopelessness and rotting hopes are always clogging everyone’s senses and brains.
he does, of course, remember that slight quirk of hongbin’s lips before he finally disappeared from jaehwan’s sight, grouped to another squad. it’s as if the whole lot of the people here knew that they’d be distracted in a fight with each other - and, in a sense, they were right. if they actually knew.
he sees glimpses of hongbin on fight, lights being beamed rapidly everywhere by him that it hurts his eyes. and surrounded by the rubbles and ashes and so many soot covering him, it reminds jaehwan of when he first saw him, months ago, the first time he was aboveground in months.
hongbin looked exactly like he what he is now, face full of determination and a hardened look on his eyes - almost a bit manic - so unlike the eyes when he’s with jaehwan.
it puzzles jaehwan at times, to be honest, but he’s glad that hongbin - even just seemingly - trusts him.
and really, he has his own personal demons to fight, too.
“you’re filthy,” hongbin throws the still drying towel to jaehwan, amazingly already out of shower.
their beds are bunked, shifted uncomfortably to the side of the wall (he can always feel the rough texture of the vertical surface when he’s trying to sleep - and he’s pretty sure hongbin does, too, based on all the creaking of the mattress when he shifts his body uncomfortably above jaehwan). the room itself is small anyway.
most of the people building these rooms apparently didn’t expect two giants to huddle in the same space. it’s almost comparable to jaehwan’s own room underground in the bunker, the smallness of it - but then hongbin’s here, so.
“aren’t we always,” jaehwan replies - not noticing (he’s always doing that, not noticing) what his words can also mean, earning a mildly scandalized look from hongbin.
his words aren’t fully true, though - the meaning that jaehwan thought when he uttered those words. they’re always sure to scrub away the remains of the outside world when they’re in there - jaehwan’s hopes of fresh air were already thinned to a mild zero when he first stepped out of the compound - and hongbin’s a bit of a cleaning person, so he’s always arranging both of their clothes and shoes, their guns are already polished for the next time they get out.
hongbin also makes sure to wipe clean jaehwan’s old glasses, kept in the drawer of the single desk that they have - ready for the time when they manage to find a relatively interesting novel that’s in a decent enough condition to read when they sometimes sneak outside.
“just shower,” hongbin urges. “dinner is in half an hour.”
jaehwan just loops the towel around his neck and wipes his face with it. he grimaces. little amount of blood and black stuff mixed together. “there’s still a lot of time, then.”
hongbin laughs - getting up, giving up with jaehwan’s simple logic. “fine,” he sighs, but his eyes are back with those twinkling mischievousness. “the more time to kiss you, then.”
jaehwan’s not sure if this is love or something like that, but he has a feeling that it is when hongbin pulls him to the bed with him - grease being smeared on hongbin’s face accidentally, but he doesn’t care, only laughs, and proceeds to work jaehwan into a melting mess. he likes it, this feeling - it’s more like flying than the feeling of falling that he experienced when hongbin first flashed his dimples to jaehwan, still on the day they met.
“all we do is kiss,” he hums. really. they’re too busy kissing to even talk. hongbin stops for a moment, eyelids opening and closing with a lazy smile on his lips.
“nothing wrong with that.”
jaehwan laughs. hongbin socks him and ends up kissing him until jaehwan’s pretty sure that his lips are becoming too soft - and he’s pretty sure that the mark he left on hongbin’s chest isn’t going to be gone in a day.
they should be worrying about the end of the world, should be worrying about the shadows that channel the power to wake up their worst memories and make them slowly choke on the smoke that can eradicate every human in this whole world, should be worrying about the leaders that don’t even train them to deal with the seemingly never-ending darkness, but jaehwan’s too busy drowning himself in this, something to make him forget.
it seems that hongbin’s doing that too, by how close and how desperate he’s closing in with jaehwan, fingers grasping along and wanting to be as close as he can together.
jaehwan doesn’t mind, doesn’t ask - because the almost silence that’s only filled with both of their breaths is a reminder that hongbin exists.
and that’s all that he asks for.
the next day is another morning dressed in black.
they both chuck the bland sandwich back to the storage (hongbin was the one who discovered it first, maybe not so accidentally dropping his meal and looking at the accidental hole beneath the container), and make a show of almost gagging on it. the others don’t pay attention to them, mainly immersed in their own conversations or too busy staring at the walls. all still, too still.
“you’d think we’re shadows,” hongbin mutters for the nth time.
“i do think that way,” jaehwan reassures him. “now let’s get back to bed.”
their footsteps now echo, the shoes they’ve arrived here in already worn out since a long time ago. the corridors are always lengthy and a bit of a too tight space for both of their liking, so they end up walking shoulder-to-shoulder. everyone’s apparently already gone to the mess hall - here being devoid of any living thing.
jaehwan nudges hongbin. “i feel like a ghost right now.”
“might as well be,” hongbin snorts - tone almost a bit bitter. bitter about knowing. bitter about everything. “if we aren’t quick to just get on with things here, we’d be just trawling outside with our minds being clouded by our worst memories.”
jaehwan’s not in the mood to think about that.
so he says the topic of their usual conversation - how fucked up the system is here. “no training,” he whistles instead. too loud - but if the leaders here do end up listening to his complaints, then good for them. “nothing. just being handed a gun and expected to fight and to endure it and not be hurt.”
hongbin stops in the front of their door and leans his body against it, all still looking very graceful - and what’s the word? model-like? he looks at jaehwan, as if he’s expecting him to do something. like speaking more.
“you’re full of hate this morning,” it’s back, his small, knowing, amused smile - and jaehwan can feel himself being smushed. in a good way. always in a good way. “it’s an amazing thing to see.”
“you’d be too if you shoot things in the trial-and-error way and not automatically good at that, lee hongbin.”
now hongbin’s smile is full-blown, almost a comical grin, his dimples looking so deep - and it’s that look he has when he’s about to try making a really stupid joke.
“crush the system, then.”
jaehwan blinks.
“…you’re better at kissing.”
hongbin just pouts. jaehwan realizes again that he’s truly blessed. “i knew there was something wrong with that joke,” he exhales - disappointed? hongbin’s truly full of wonders. he opens the door, body still facing towards jaehwan. links their fingers, tightening his grip. still smiling. he’s always doing that, jaehwan’s pretty sure that it’s his default expression. “and you’re right, anyway.”
always, jaehwan mouths.
they both stumble in.
let’s just say that they spend the day holed up there, kissing and doing pretty indecent stuff and shucking off their clothes to not remind them they’re just like dark shadows. talking a bit at times, hongbin laughing so loudly that jaehwan’s ears feel like they’re about to fall off - of course, all in a very good way.
they miss nothing in the mess hall. days are always like this. no one cares, anyway.
when the knock comes, jaehwan isn’t even sure if he’s dead or alive.
that’s because of the whispers and thuds. it doesn’t happen here - people are always silent. always wanting to not be noticed, wanting to be invisible. maybe not a want - it’s more because everyone is silent here. it’s weird to break away from that conformity. all being visible gets is weird looks. so jaehwan’s pretty sure he’s been killed in sleep or something and now the ghosts are whispering about him.
but then the knock comes again; he feels hongbin’s pulse beside him, and sits up.
he shakes hongbin’s sleeping form. “wake up,” he wants to shout - but it’s a whisper instead. “hey, hey.”
it’s only a split second after hongbin opened his eyes, but jaehwan’s already standing up, rummaging through their clothes while trying to make the room look decent. because no one - no one - knocks on their doors. everyone prefers solitariness here. it must be something really fucking important, then.
hongbin slurs something, eyes still half-opened, but he’s at least trying to pull his pants up.
the knocking is more insistent, and when they’re finally decent-looking and hongbin’s face is splattered with water, jaehwan opens the door.
his chest constricts and heart drops when he does see a leader.
“is lee hongbin here?” she says, voice light and airy. not like the gun she’s holding - it’s bigger-sized than the rest of them. jaehwan has seen her numerous times before, brunette hair fading to black and almost always ponytailed. “we need him.”
and hongbin’s fingers are grasping jaehwan’s shirt, a slight tug. he’s beside him now - a tight fit.
in the corner of his eyes, he sees hongbin eyeing the crowd out of their room, looking at them both and frozen. there’s a flock of the other leaders behind her - and they’re all looking at hongbin. jaehwan feels too tiny. hongbin’s assessing the situation, jaehwan guesses - his back then straightens out, an upward tilt of his lips that looks more like a small grimace - and he nods.
“yeah,” he answers. “that’s me.”
“come with us,” she orders, and turns her head toward the crowd. if it wasn’t her glare and her words and hard tone, jaehwan’s not sure what. “and people, please disperse.”
they do. it happens in just a few seconds that it would seem as if they just disappeared through the walls.
the tug on jaehwan’s back is harder now, almost threatening to rip the small piece of fabric out - but then hongbin’s going away from him, stepping out of the room, back poised and just generally looking uncomfortable. jaehwan’s worried. it’s the first time that hongbin just looks so uncomfortable here. even though everyone was awkward when they were first here, he never looks like that - it’s always, since the start, as if hongbin was already here once.
he stands beside the female leader. jaehwan looks to his lips just in time to see him mouthing: don’t worry. but there’s a slight quiver of lips.
“please come to the mess hall for breakfast today, lee jaehwan,” someone tuts in the back - a leader. hongbin looks back to the source of the voice - and jaehwan can hear it coming from the tuft of ash blond hair. the person sounds - cheery. amused. “important announcement coming up. and don’t think that we didn’t see you both throw the bread away.”
jaehwan’s pretty sure they both choked on their almost-laughter.
but as hongbin goes away, his posture doesn’t change.
confusion - it’s obvious, what he feels.
it’s jaehwan’s first time going anywhere without hongbin. they’re stuck with each other all the time since the start - and not having a shoulder next to him is weird. not having someone as tall as him and looking down over everyone is strange. it’s even stranger with people ignoring jaehwan when he’s alone - unsettling. it’s as if jaehwan became the first outcast here overnight.
forcing himself to stomach the bland bread in a table alone, not with hongbin’s laugh.
he hates the day already. even in this hellhole, at least hongbin makes it bearable.
the air doesn’t even have that strange atmosphere of relaxed uncertainty now. it’s more - choking. tense. everyone waiting for something to happen, and everyone knowing what exactly they are waiting for.
jaehwan’s like a left out kid.
he’s about to ignore that leader’s words about something important being announced, just about to pass out, when he hears a familiar name being spoken out.
“you know that lee hongbin?” it’s a hushed whisper, tone almost conspiratorial - and it should’ve been swallowed by the unusual chattering happening all around the mess hall, but jaehwan can only hear that. it’s from the table across him, but they don’t seem to notice jaehwan.
“that was wild,” another someone quips, and jaehwan’s a bit taken aback by the fact that people still use that word for a moment. but then the words come out again and he zones in. “a whole lot of leaders just shoved through the hallway and took him away.”
he tries his best to ignore the fact that they didn’t even say anything about lee hongbin’s roommate.
then there’s a sudden huddle. jaehwan’s senses suddenly just go overdrive at the movement. “there are rumors, you know,” the new person claims, voice so soft and quiet that jaehwan has to physically restrain himself from cocking his ear to listen clearer. “about him in battle.”
quiet oohs and aahs.
“i’ve seen him multiple times in battle,” the new one’s tone is so cocky and haughty. smug. “seen it with my own two eyes.”
there’s the sound of jostling and hisses of tell us tell us tell us.
“him,” the soft-voiced person relents, and jaehwan can only describe how he speaks those words it as curious and mildly frightened. fascinated. a bit unbelieving. “regenerating in the battle. skin patching up and stuff. never dying. kind of like those rumors of the people that succumbed under the black smoke.”
jaehwan’s breath gets stuck on his throat.
hold up. wait - what?
“you’re not serious,” someone hisses. there’s laughter, too. “we aren’t living in a paranormal world.”
part of him says it’s delusional. he agrees with that someone who hissed. it must’ve been someone’s overactive imagination in battle, muddled with the apocalyptic smoke delivering their worst memories. but then his jaehwan’s doesn’t just make him think of that - it thinks of the possibility that is real. the way hongbin was when he arrived here, practically already made out of shadows; the way he never appears hurt when the raid is over, the way that all the marks jaehwan made on him already gone in the next few hours.
the way hongbin gets uncomfortable when a mention of those people who’s stripped away by the smoke popped up.
a bubbling feeling of acid is felt in jaehwan’s abdomen, head just pounding, trying to just run to the nearest sink but it’s too late - and then it comes - the sick liquid coming out of his mouth and nostrils, eyes watering, chest heaving. someone screams. he’s pretty sure someone screamed.
he feels himself being moved, but jaehwan’s mind is somewhere else - nauseous and afraid of hongbin being too friendly with the darkness they both hate.
burning-up throat. and his eyes, against his wills, close.
“a hell lot of vomit you expelled there.”
for a while, he feels a lot better. everything is familiar. the warmth beside him. the voice. even the hard pillow supporting his head is all familiar and comforting. it would be nice, jaehwan thinks, if everything is like this forever.
but then he remembers and the nauseous feeling is back.
he sits up so forcefully that all the blood rushes down and his head feels too woozy - and he ends up slamming headfirst to hongbin’s chest, already getting up to help him, yet too late. the wooziness and dizziness is making him feel faint. but then hongbin’s cupping jaehwan’s cheeks, smiling, though - tired.
“you’re,” he manages throatily. “back.”
“you passed out for four hours, lee jaehwan.”
“oh.”
that explains why his muscles feel like rocks. and seeing hongbin’s tired his smile, his unblemished skin, his whole perfection - jaehwan feels a little guilty when he rises to kiss him up, coax the shirt away from him, and mouths on his neck - the sinking feeling is back.
no trace or marks of the imperfections that jaehwan imprinted on him. nothing.
“hey,” his voice is soft. but jaehwan’s pretty sure that it’s quivering too. “where’s the hickeys?”
hongbin pulls away from him, but his expression is guarded - so guarded and alarmed before it slips away. “gone,” he seems to remind. his eyes seem so tired that jaehwan’s a bit afraid that he would fall asleep on top of him.
uncertainty replaced with concern. “you okay?”
“it’s nothing,” and that smile is back. jaehwan finally realizes that it’s the same smile that hongbin gives when he starts to ask him about personal questions - the one that would distract jaehwan from the said question in the first place. “and it’s probably just my amazing body fixing things quickly.”
jaehwan swallows, throat dry. “yeah, he agrees. but he doesn’t. “not like me being clumsy.”
hongbin laughs, and jaehwan hates how it sounds so hollow for him.
he really can’t lie - not to this length, can he.
even their kisses decrease.
the leaders have actually found out about their complaints, according to the announcement - complaints from apparently all of them - and are now finally utilizing the training rooms that jaehwan didn’t even know existed. there’s a strict schedule now, and they both have to force themselves to eat the bread unless they want to pass out. jaehwan really suddenly misses how things were a few days ago. they’re separated again - really, like they know - and so hongbin and jaehwan’s time together is limited, both flopping to bed after a day of their bodies finally being moved and worked. not to the extent of complete exhaustion, but close.
(“i miss you,” hongbin mumbles in his state of sleep, confesses unconsciously, and jaehwan just reaches for his dangling hand and manages to hoist himself to kiss it.
his skin is cold.)
their raids frequent.
there’s that nagging feeling of being kept in the dark, even more than before, stronger. jaehwan now can remember, clearly, the lights shooting and the darkness dissipating on those fights, even though for only a moment - a long moment, but they will come again. it’s their job to keep the darkness out.
he remembers the blood and people’s anguished yelling. screams of help. light accidentally being beamed at his skin and almost charring it off.
it doesn’t help that hongbin’s away most of the time with the leaders - and no one knows what for. there’s the wonshik kid who’s called like that, too, along with the girls that came with him from the bunkers. they arrived late, and - and in the same condition as hongbin was in.
jaehwan just feels detached.
what’s even more unsettling when hongbin and jaehwan does have the energy to kiss, jaehwan’s body is a bloodied and battered mess while hongbin’s so perfect and pristine - even though they were in the same battle today, even though it’s only been an hour of resting.
“i miss you,” hongbin mutters, and jaehwan laughs. it feels good like this.
“i miss you,” he echoes. he misses - craves - knowing what they truly are, too.
everything is back to square one.
hongbin scratches his skin on purpose, tries to be clumsy on purpose, tries to take dumb risks to save the other people from injuries - but it doesn’t work. he slams himself inside the bathroom and checks, but there’s black clouding his scars, building things over it, healing yet making it worse.
he hates it. he hates how jaehwan doesn’t look at his skin, how jaehwan hesitates around him, sometimes even appearing to avoid him.
he hates how the leaders start to ask him questions about his past. he’s now here. he’s here. he’s back here to forget that, but the smoke that caught him in its lengthy and menacing fingers once just seems to not like that plan. trying hard to reel him in again.
hongbin hates how jaehwan comes to the room with eyebags adorning his face and freshly applied bandages all over his body. scars that healed being opened again.
hates how he can’t even do anything about it.
alarms blaring and body rigid.
jaehwan groans.
the habit of wearing those black uniforms to bed has already infected both hongbin and him since that morning when the darkness creeped in too close to their compound. the alarm had blasted when every one of them were asleep, still only in their sticky underwear, and the whole lot of them were threatened to succumb in the chaotic and dark smoke just because they weren't fast enough to get off their beds and put on some pants.
“where's the guns,” jaehwan blearily gurgles, voice still thick with sleepiness.
it was just this night when the last of those worst bruises got away, but now he is going to be back at the battlefield to get some new ones. he also hasn't had the chance to kiss hongbin before they went to sleep that night, even in the celebration of eating something else instead of bread - pasta, though it made him want to vomit because he was too used to eating bread.
hongbin yawns but he still manages the clamber down the top bunk.
“i haven't polished it,” he pointed out the obvious. they don't have any time to do that. it's all drilling your body until things like running around shooting light out of guns in just an hour becomes a little piece of cake.
jaehwan contemplates about running in battle barefooted.
“you're going to die stepping on those shrapnel instead of being injured in fight,” hongbin muses.
this is the first time jaehwan has ever just said his words out loud, but he's not even surprised. he probably did that numerous of times before and didn't notice it because of exhaustion.
the alarms are dull but still ringing inside jaehwan's ears, but he senses the urgency with the footsteps running outside his door. also yelling and shouting. just like that time where they were kissing inside the hallway. jaehwan has the sudden ache for that.
he just fixes up his boots quickly, retrieves the gun that hongbin had put beside him, on the bed’s messy and sheets-untucked-but-at-least-i-can-still-sleep state, and looks up at hongbin, who's staring at him, ready to go. the door is already slightly opened.
“good luck kiss,” he pleads, and he wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he definitely doesn't expect hongbin just rushing forward to him - almost losing grip on the gun, shoving him against a wall and filling jaehwan's everything with electricity sparks and everything wonderful spreading through his synapses and making eyes go too awake.
they end up almost being late, and both of them are put in the frontline as a punishment, but jaehwan has never felt so alive these past days except now. there’s the giddiness and the small sliver of smile on his face.
he misses this.
with the giddiness and the promise of sneaking out for the first time in weeks, jaehwan's a pretty happy man tonight.
though there is still, of course, injuries, he miraculously manages to avoid the worst ones. hongbin's out with his squad leader to report on the latest raid - jaehwan had not been offered that position by his squad leader. he figures out that he should train more and be not-clumsier so he can spend another type of quality time with hongbin.
he's not sure how to describe their relationship exactly, but boyfriends seems to be close.
hongbin would probably just fuss over him at those meetings and risk them being revealed, so that's another contemplation.
but he’s just so excited that he manages to scrub all the dust and everything away in shower, leaving only healing scars and bruises. he feels fresh. he also tidied up both of their beds and polished the guns. when jaehwan’s psyched, he ends up doing things like these quickly.
a knock comes.
there’s the sudden feeling of dread. hongbin usually just barges in the room and flops on jaehwan’s bed ungracefully at times like this.
rising up on his feet, striding to the door. unlatching, and then the guy with ash blond hair is standing in front of him - the same one that knew about hongbin and him wasting the bread. sanghyuk, the name is. his face is handsome and young, so it’s a bit weird when jaehwan realizes that the boy is taller than him.
anxiousness radiates from his face, though - is jaehwan imagining his uneasy pose?
“the meeting’s ended twenty minutes ago,” sanghyuk informs, but his voice suggests that there’s something else behind that statement. “is hongbin here?”
jaehwan’s whole body freezes.
“he’s,” he intones. his palms are growing clammy and cold at the same time. it’s uncomfortable and all jaehwan wants to do now is find hongbin and kiss him in both anger and relief. “not here.”
sanghyuk mutters a shit.
his mind almost shuts down at once. “what’s happening?” jaehwan demands, chest constricting as the possibilities flash inside his head. he tries to push them away and focus on the now: hongbin missing, but then it just won’t stop. the sick and dizzy feeling is back again to make him vomit, and his senses are going overdrive again, so it’s not a good feeling.
“the meeting was about taking extra precautions,” sanghyuk recalls, but his eyes are closed and forehead being covered by his hand. like he’s having a headache. “it’s been - affecting some people. more than ever. stronger. so strong that it -”
jaehwan drones the rest of words, because he realizes that hongbin - oh god, hongbin.
the words come out quick. “i’ll find him,” he volunteers, even though he doesn’t know what sanghyuk was talking about in the first place. “right now.”
“wait -”
but jaehwan’s already out, footsteps resounding around the hallway, his mind filling with the thoughts of hongbin. kisses and questions and words and hickeys and jokes and laughter - hongbin’s not going to just slip away from his fingers like that.
not like this.
sanghyuk swallows his words down and leans against the doorframe, reflexively reaching for his not-there weapon. his gun is at the office - a sorry attempt at an office. he runs his fingers through his hair, gripping it, releasing it. he’s fucked up. the other leaders are fucked up.
he’s half-convinced to just go inside their drink storage and pull out an expired soda.
brain’s not accepting it. he just sent out lee jaehwan in a fucked up experiment.
hongbin just wants to fucking cry when he finds out.
it’s the first time jaehwan has gone outside without a gun. he probably should’ve thought about that, but hongbin’s - he shuts that thought off.
the first is, of course, his whole senses being clogged and dulled. feeling as if he’s walking on a light sheen of cloud. it seems as if the smoke is feeding off his anxiety and uncertainty, seeping out every bad thought and leaving jaehwan with happy memories a blank slate.
he tries to focus on finding hongbin. that's the most important thing now. he shouldn't be put off course just because of the smoke that seems to thicken around him.
jaehwan's scared. it is, again, obvious. but he just needs to find hongbin, find themselves and put them back in one whole piece after this situation made of nightmare happened. maybe kiss the fuck out of him.
jaehwan doesn't know how hongbin does it. he, according to though the rumors, have crumbled under this whole thing once. jaehwan's never been outside since the whole black and dark air was detected here, because he was ushered - with everyone - underground.
it has only been like four months since the breakthrough way of fighting this apocalypse had been invented, people being gathered and recruited to fight it by the government. his family had forbade him to go - but he finally lost it three months later, fed up with having to life in the monotony and uncomfortable tension with them, and just packed up silently and joined the group. he was ready to leave everything and live a lonely and bitter life aboveground.
but then hongbin happened, and jaehwan has never felt so alive before.
it's thicker now, almost choking, the air - and the first memory of his parents being displeased pops up. his brother screaming at him. his mom breaking a vase. jaehwan's - jaehwan's not -
someone hollers his name out in the distance.
jaehwan can’t. he - fuck. it feels as if his ribcages are shrinking on his heart, threatening to make it burst out and he's - fuck. is this what they say when they losing themselves in this - he has never felt so lonely before. suffocated. his whole head is pounding and his vision is blurring and he can't even focus on the building in front of him, white and black and grey blending in together like dust settling on eyes and blurring people's vision.
inhales. his throat feels like acid instead and his insides burn.
it’s too late. and now it comes to the worst - hongbin.
hongbin hurt and dying and living all over and over again like a sick animation, a film jaehwan’s forced to watch forever. hongbin angered. crying. sobbing. crouching down, last kisses, and jaehwan just wants to - the voice comes again, broken and sad and pleading.
“i'm sorry,” jaehwan chokes out. his limbs feel numb. “hongb -”
he feels himself turning to dust and he doesn't even know if it's real. if it's just in his head or if he's becoming one of those shadow people. the tears won't come, his stomach just hurtles around like some kind of merry-go-round that's threatening to rip himself out.
this isn't right. he's here - for hongbin. jaehwan's here for hongbin and he hasn't found him yet, but he's here, dissolving to dust, emotions being sheared off and worst memories imprinted like tattoos on his head and he just can’t find hongbin -
“i'm sorry,” it's someone's familiar voice, stammering. a drop of something liquid lands on jaehwan's body. he feels thin and weightless. “you can’t - just do this to me why - why are you here -”
hongbin, jaehwan wants to respond, but his mouth feels like lead.
his vision suddenly clears and all he can see is light, light shooting, the smokiness getting away, and is that hongbin? feels like he's being anchored down again, but like a helium balloon being tied to a pole. ready to fly off at any moment.
his eyes are turning into smoke.
and now he stands, stumbling.
he’s not used to this.
hongbin stands at a distance, holding two guns. his and jaehwan’s. looking at the ground and not looking up. jaehwan would probably too if he saw hongbin being evaporated to dust and being put together again like a body made out of smoke and never dying. jaehwan had tested it himself, as morbid as it sounds. letting a rock fall flat to his arm, and feeling just fine in just a few minutes.
it feels like an eternity. it could have been - they’re both immortal now. he doesn't - he doesn't know how to approach this. so he asks.
they're both the same type of someone now, anyway.
“why didn’t you tell me,” jaehwan asks, quiet. guilt fills him a bit when he senses that his voice might have a little bit of anger and sadness hidden in it.
nothing like silence and their breathing going in and out. the smoke has cleared off for now, and for a good reason - they've finished taking jaehwan away from his body. so he’s never dying. living forever so they can feed on his worst memories when they're hungry. life is great.
“i'm afraid,” hongbin finally says something. his voice is tiny and guilty and everything that makes jaehwan's whole being constrict because - because it wasn't even hongbin's fault that he's the same as what jaehwan is now. that jaehwan is the same thing as he is now. he feels an odd sort of detachment, to the him yesterday. or just a few hours ago. he's not sure.
hongbin really does seem afraid. jaehwan, with a realization, feels like that way too.
“you're not alone, at least,” he doesn’t know why he tries to humor hongbin up with that. it's probably not going to work.
humoring him back. "i probably shouldn't be glad about that," mumbling.
jaehwan has all the rights to be mad at hongbin. to be sad. to just quit it and just leave hongbin alone. but then, jaehwan doesn't. it never was his fault, being like this, his worst memories pulled out and back. it's just - human, jaehwan guesses.
“you're not alone,” jaehwan reminds, and he's not sure if he's still standing when hongbin's eyes finally light up.
truthfully, jaehwan's still confused and still a whole lot of mixed emotions about what he is now, what's going to happen - but hongbin's here. he doesn’t hate jaehwan for being like this. and he's electrified. here and breathing the smoke. has never felt so alive.
ironic, it should be, but when hongbin just runs to jaehwan and tackles him down to kiss him full in the mouth and giggling and gasping and panting with him, jaehwan really hasn't lived before this. he just wants to smile. to laugh. to be with hongbin forever. try to make the marks that he imprints on him last longer as a game.
the darkness should be appalled. no one has ever shown any type of happiness aboveground since it forced them to retreat down and never coming up again unless it was for fighting them.
and they are.
notes: thank you chulminator for these prompts! i hope you still it~ million of hearts for tlist who has supported me doing this. thank you for reading!