borderline (standalone)
pairing/characters: bang yongguk/kim himchan
rating: PG-13
summary: there's a war in south korea, and for a particular elf who only wants to live peacefully, that means leaving. until a wounded soldier shows up in front of his (supposedly) invisible house.
author notes: 1, 982 words. lotsa references from 'the lord of the rings trilogy'.
and so the mortals are in battles, again. his choice to move to korean peninsula seems to be in vain; since his intention was to avoid war in the first place. and he likes the mountains. but, well, it’s been twenty years anyway. he guesses it’s time to move to a free-from-war country.
the date is july 1950. now he’s looking at the huge world map on his study room. he closes his eyes and concentrates, right hand is ready with a small pink pin. he throws it.
“ah, australia, it is.” he’s never been to australia before. he hears that the lonely continent’s weather is quite humid. he’s up for a change though, and he can visit his cousin from his mother’s side; quite lots of his own have migrated there. so many virgin lands and all that.
he decides to move from daejeon, south korea, to brisbane, australia in about a week.
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he’s awakened by a light thump. he checks the time; it’s only two in the morning. the thing is; his house is supposed to be invisible, except for times when there are local residents going up to the mountain to collect fire wood and so he will make it visible to reassure the mortals that there really is someone living right by the mountain.
sensing that there’s something wrong going on, he jumps off of his bed and walks fast to check.
a figure is lying motionlessly. under the dim light of the full moon; the man looks wounded up from head to toe and barely breathing.
now, he keeps contact with the mortals as minimal as possible. those foolish creatures tend to fall deeply in love with him with one blink of an eye. the highest council strictly telling everyone to stay away from the mortals’ monkey businesses; that include getting acquainted with them, and, good rivendell; wars, too. he would’ve ended every war possible within his reach, but he couldn’t because if his existence is exposed then his own kind will be hunted and he knows it so well how greedy the mortals are.
but he can’t just abandon a particular mortal who is thisclose from dying in front of his very eyes, right?
he will question the mortal later, about how could he discover his invisible house at this eerie hour. his priority is to take care of the man, or, as the dog tag around his neck with hangul says;
bang yongguk.
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it hurts.
yongguk blinks heavily, adjusting his visions through the weirdly illuminated room. having been too used to darkness, he ends up squinting. then he tries to swallow, but his own tongue tastes so bitter. no headache, though. that’s a good thing.
and he’s lying on the most comfortable bed, ever. not that yongguk knows how does comfortable bed feel like; his back home was only a thin sheet and up until now he slept on the ground or inside a spying/protection hole.
god―!
he jerks to a sitting up position, frantically touching his head, neck, chest, and legs. he remembers his battalion got bombed by the japs, and the others remaining parted ways. he also remembers he got shot on the chest and running deeper into the forest before rolling down a cliff and seeing a weirdly illuminated house―
is this a dream?
suddenly yongguk finds a hidden strength that brings him standing up on his shaky feet. his boots are gone, and he’s wearing a pair of blue loose pants. there’s a white carpet that feels so damn soft under his heels, and his arms are free from bruises, blood, and he can rotate his left wrist freely. he fractured it a couple of days ago and it had throbbed so bad before the bombing.
shit. fuck.
he looks around the white room; everything is so, so clean and illuminated. no lamps are even on, and yongguk can’t really tell whether it’s a day or night. he spots a full body mirror and when he sees his reflection; he frowns.
he’s naked from waist above and he’s...alright. no traces of a bullet piercing his flesh; he looks healthy, although thinner than before the war started. but there are some red-greenish color on his chest, temple, and when he raises his pants; on his calves.
is this a miracle?
“i see you’ve woken up.”
yongguk turns around with a ready to fight stance and instantly embarrassed because there stands the fairest man he’s ever seen in his whole twenty two years of living.
the fair man has a platinum blonde―almost white―hair, just like some of the yankees’ soldiers. he’s slim, with a face of perfection; small eyes, high nose, and luscious lips. he wears a long sleeved white shirt and white pants, and he’s also barefooted.
he seems so...ethereal.
and then he smiles, and yongguk thinks he’s in love.
“how are you feeling, bang yongguk?” the fair man asks, his voice sounds so silk-like and comforting. he sounds amused as well.
yongguk bows 90° before answering, not forgetting a soldier’s honor and answers as clearly as he can,
“thank you very much for your help, private bang yongguk at your service.”
the fair man chuckles, and yongguk really, really does wonder if he’s dead already and if he finally meets an angel.
“i’m not that mighty, bang yongguk.” the fair man is standing close; so close that yongguk can smell the melancholic scent from him. when did he walk closer? “the name’s kim himchan. it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
yongguk nods dumbly.
they look into each other’s eyes for a long moment. yongguk swears he sees a flicker of violet flame in the honey orbs, but he dismisses it as mere hallucination. he fakes a cough.
“ah, pardon me. you must be hungry,” kim himchan―that’s a very unusual name―takes his left wrist gently and leads him out of the bedroom. yongguk relaxes his tensed form and somehow he feels even better as their skin touches. he’s led onto a short hallway and they enter a white but bare living room full with beautiful paintings of...yongguk has no idea about the trees and palaces and white-haired males and females in there. then they pass a study room with a huge world map plastered to the white wall, and finally they’re on the white kitchenette. even the bar designed dining table is white.
this white house is sure as hell furnished modernly.
kim himchan seats him and fusses over the meal. yongguk braves himself to stare, and the first thought comes into his brain is;
so graceful.
every little moves kim himchan make; he seems to become one with the pans, the knives, the vegetables, the meat―and there’s just something about his pale nape that makes yongguk wants to feel.
“i’m not easy, bang yongguk.” kim himchan gives him a slight smile as if he can hear yongguk’s thought out loud.
yongguk clears his throat and sits up straighter. he’s failed at being a gentleman, really, fantasizing about his savior like that. he mentally warns himself not to stare anymore.
“it’s okay, i don’t mind it, bang yongguk,” kim himchan presents him the most delicious looking meal ever. “you can stare at me all you want.”
so yongguk does.
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yongguk loses count of how many days he’s been staying at kim himchan’s house already. while it is wonderful to have the luck to be in the same roof with the most beautiful human, there’s also an otherworldly feeling behind the luxurious cover. he can’t pinpoint what it is, but he thinks it’s kim himchan himself.
the older man (“i am way, way older than you, bang yongguk.”) speaks in riddles and sometimes with difficulties like korean isn’t his native language. he also wears white all the time, and always has this amused smile plastered permanently to his pretty face. he doesn’t let yongguk far from the house, ever since that one time yongguk had tried to jog around the mountain―he was bored, and thought he could use some fresh air―where he ended up screaming in agony for every pain that was suffocating him during the bombing and after he got shot slowly, very slowly, crawling back to him.
to be honest, he doesn’t want to find out what is really happening.
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“bang yongguk,” it’s kim himchan’s voice. yongguk mumbles a protest. “bang yongguk.”
“yes?” he sniffs as coldness tickles his bare arms. then there’s a warm...cloak being clasped around his shoulders, and kim himchan is calling him again.
“bang yongguk, come with me,” he takes yongguk’s hand, and maybe yongguk is still half-asleep but he swears they’re floating in the air.
yongguk’s head is lulled from side to side as kim himchan leads him to his white backyard. yongguk is fully awake by now, for everything is, again, illuminated.
then, kim himchan kisses him.
“listen, bang yongguk,” he sounds so close yet so far, “i finally understand about your condition. you have two options, but you have to listen to me very carefully.”
yongguk frowns. his head feels too light and in betwixt and between of screaming that this is right! no, this is wrong! wake up!
“himchan-sshi?” yongguk croaks out, looking down at the other man.
“are you listening, bang yongguk, very carefully?”
“yes.”
kim himchan tiptoes and speaks right to his left ear,
“one, i don’t know if you will survive when i let you go. you are bound to my power, and i am to this house. if you ever step out of this house ever again, you shall be in great pain, bang yongguk, and i don’t want that.
two, there is another way. but i must warn you that this path means you will agree to immortality. you will live forever, you will walk on this earth until the end, and it is your choice whether you want me next to you forever or not.”
yongguk shudders.
“but you love me, right, bang yongguk?” kim himchan continues, more playful, more daring and lovelier this time. “we will be together forever. you and i. nothing can ever stop us. i’ll take you to see the world, visit my homeland, and we shall not worry about wealth or our looks. when i said i’m way, way older than you, bang yongguk, i am actually as old as the firstborn tree in the amazon; and from the billion mortal being i’ve ever met, you are the only one, bang yongguk. i shall never ask anyone else.”
“why me, himchan-sshi?”
kim himchan places his index finger on yongguk’s lips, shushing him.
“that’s my seventh random korean name, bang yongguk. call me amrod telemnar, son of thoron from rivendell.”
yongguk tries the name, it feels weird on his tongue, but he doesn’t dislike it.
“i―” yongguk shakes his head. “why―why me?”
kim himc―amrod telemnar―smiles melancholically and shrugs, casually wrapping his arms around yongguk’s cloaked shoulders. he tiptoes again and answers with his lips pressed against yongguk’s,
“fate?”
you need me anyway, bang yongguk.
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elf;
ORIGIN old english, of germanic origin; related to german alp ‘nightmare.’
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