treading water
❇ Title: treading water for everyone
❇ Pairing: Jongin-centric, Jongin/Baekhyun
❇ Rating: PG
❇ Length: 2,524
❇ Warnings: implied character death. fictitious american setting. ambiguous storyline.
❇ Author's note: wow this was supposed to be longer. and better. but. yeah. song lyrics are used in between scenes. in order: the sea - corinne bailey rae | open water - thrice | claimed by the sea - french for rabbits | drowned - the who | lost continent - thrice | what the water gave me - florence + the machine | kings upon the main -thrice | the whaler - thrice. (unedited, sorry about that)
❇ Summary: I listen to the song of sirens, I become one with the ocean. Claimed by the sea, our hearts are in sync.
The sea,
The majestic sea,
Breaks everything,
Crushes everything,
Cleans everything,
Takes everything
From me
The sky was a terrible shade of gray, as the clouds danced mournfully over the horizon. It rained brutally for three days and Jongin could taste the storm on his tongue as he took a deep inhale through his chapped lips. The air smelled of salt and late summer -like shimmering gold -and the days were longer, with the light barely weakening at the first brush of evening. He walked back to his house, a short distance away from where he exited the taxi, and noticed with a strange sense of clarity that he otherwise never possessed, that there were no boats on the docks in the distance, and the streets were so quiet that even the wind seemed to settle in compensation.
D’Arcy, Maine was quiet where the noise of nature was overbearing. Quiet in the monotony of the lives of its residents. The fishermen were loud, and they drank too much at the local bar -but they were up before the sun every morning, and faithful to their wives unlike the stories people told to children at bedtime.
Jongin moved to Maine so that he could embrace his solitude and continue to write his children's stories in relative peace. There seemed to be no other place quite as vibrantly solemn as the small town in which he lived, and despite his fear of water, he found comfort in the sound of the waves and the powdered wisps of sand that never left the bottom of his shoes.
He reached his house in the same amount of time he normally did each day, but somehow it seemed he spent an unusual amount of time looking past his house and off towards the sea.
He climbed the stairs of his porch, wiping the sweat from his flushed face, and counted the creaks and groans of the old wooden boards. His front door was splintered and cracked in multiple places, with a cleft just at the bottom ideal for bees to make their homes. Twice he called the exterminators, yet, the hardware store a couple miles off hadn’t received a request for a new door. The bees' ability to bypass the screen door and settle into the old wood still escaped him.
Of the most unfortunate features of his house, was the lack of proper air conditioning. His kitchen was the hottest room in the house, and the guest bedroom was the coolest. After walking through the front door and into the kitchen, Jongin immediately reached for the refrigerator to obtain the only cold beverage he possessed -a cold beer.
Drinking the beer straight away would have been a waste, so Jongin sat at the old green leather chair with the bottle pressed up against his forehead, sweat indistinguishable from the condensation on the bottle. The large clock that hung over the sink ticked plainly while the freezer released a fresh batch of ice. Jongin felt an obsessive desire to pick out every sound amongst the overall silence of the house. Sometimes his loneliness felt like it was tangible, as if there were loose limbed shadows looming over him -cold, heavy, and unmoving. He felt it especially during the tired hours of the day, when his body ached and his mind raced, and there was no one around to share his sentiments.
Jongin leaned his head back, mouth poised to drink, when the sudden sound of water flowing through the pipes from above caused him to jump -spilling a little of the beer down his shirt and onto his lap.
“Shit,” he hissed, standing quickly to investigate the sudden activity of the pipes. It wasn’t often that his home decided to have a mind of its own.
The stairs creaked as he ascended -just as they tended to do -but as he got closer to the top the louder it sounded. So loud, that it seemed as if the stairs were screaming.
He swallowed dryly, wishing that he didn’t live alone for the second time that day. The bathroom was just ahead, directly down the hall, yet he hesitated. The air smelled wet -like the world just after rain -with every inch of air moist, like breathing underwater. And it was strange. The door was closed when Jongin had a habit of leaving it open. His heart hammered as he approached the door. The summer heat all but disappeared and instead the hall grew colder with each step, each exhale marking the air in front of him with a withering whiteness.
There was an interval of silence. The only thing audible was the sound of Jongin’s staggering breaths. His hand reached out to turn the knob, and just as his skin made contact -an icy pain shot up his arm, paralyzing his movements.
His lungs were tight and constricting as he tried inhaling deeply through his mouth. He felt as if he were stuck at the bottom of the ocean -chest burning with the need to breathe. Falling to his knees, he trembled, coughing and spluttering. His grip on the door handle tightened as his body crumbled to the ground.
Water began to leak through the bottom of the door, wetting his slacks and the palm of his left hand. There was a sound then -faint at first, but slowly graduating into a melodious humming, dulcet tones reverberating off the walls. It sounded like singing, or the beginnings of it, and Jongin barely had enough time to marvel at the sound in between struggling to breathe and feeling the cool water soak his legs.
He inhaled no oxygen and exhaled wetly into the door. He was drowning somehow, and he knew it had something to do with what was going on inside the bathroom.
With the remaining strength he had, he twisted the knob -the only thing he could manage -and it opened with the sound of the ocean.
The open water chills me to my bones,
but it's the only place that I feel alive.
The ocean floor begins to disappear;
I sense that terrible depth.
The open water is my only fear,
but I'll sail as long as I still have breath in me.
Ever since his third birthday, Jongin has dreamed of drowning.
They always started out the same way -familiar and comforting. It was simple and sudden, like a child screaming “boo!” to scare away the hiccups of another child.
He held his mother’s hand by the tip of her pinky and ring finger -he remembers it was her left hand, because he’d sometimes reach up to brush against her wedding ring. They were heading out to the carnival near the pier when suddenly the wind started to blow frantically. His mother let go of his hand and screamed with her head lifted up to the sky. Each time, Jongin looked out at the sea -watched it swirl and thrash about violently-while his mother dragged him away, frightened and full of regrets. She bent down so she was eye level with Jongin. She clutched his shoulders tightly, shaking him with hot tears streaming down her face. Jongin couldn’t resist looking out at the sea.
Then, all at once, the earth rumbled. Water rose higher with each second. The sea had begun to take over everything. Jongin watched as people fought for air until there wasn’t any left to take. He felt the water enter his body. He felt it weigh him down until he could no longer stand. He watched the light leave his mother’s eyes and throughout all the sea’s wretched torrent -he could still see his mother’s tears falling down her face.
Jongin’s father was always absent from his dreams, and sometimes, after he’d wake up frightened and damp with cold sweat, he’d wander into his parents’ room to see if his father was still there. He always was.
His parents were always there.
Until they weren’t any longer.
This is no longer my house,
It has been claimed by the sea.
Claimed by the sea,
and it was always going to be,
Claimed by the sea....
Jongin gasped for breath, back arched and muscles taut. He felt as if he were being held at the peak of death -mercilessly bound to the slow, measured pain. There was water all around him. On the ground, in the air -pushing through his lungs, flowing through each and every one of his cells.
Breathe.
There was a voice. It reached his ears like an endless sigh.
Breathe!
A frantic whisper. Jongin tried to comply, but he couldn’t.
Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE.
Jongin inhaled, but it wasn’t the same. He no longer felt the pain of trying to breathe without air. It was different. A subtle shift of perspective.
He was breathing underwater.
His panic subsided and the voice returned -clear, yet furtive.
I have come for you.
Jongin searched for the origin of the voice that he could hear as clear as his own heartbeat. His prone, soaked body was slumped against the cold, white porcelain tiles. Hands reached up to touch his face. His clothes were dry.
His own bathroom seemed foreign to him, as if he had never stepped foot inside.
I have come for you.
There was a certain compulsion nagging at the back of his mind. A flash of familiarity -a fleeting feeling of understanding.
“Where are you?” he asked, just barely. “Why can’t I see you?”
I am here.
Jongin frowned, attempting to stand. His body was heavier but also easier to control. It was as if he suddenly possessed an otherworldly grace. He moved to sit at the edge of the tub, which was filled to the brim with water.
As if on instinct, his body jerked forward, until the tip of his nose was just skimming the surface of the water. The familiar, nagging feeling was back. Come in, it said, Give in. With eyes wide open, he submerged under the clear water until he could feel the water tickling his neck.
The water turned dark and cold and Jongin could feel a suffocating presence surrounding him, pulling him under.
And then he saw it.
Saw him.
Let me flow into the ocean,
Let me get back to the sea.
Let me be stormy and let me be calm,
Let the tide in, and set me free.
It was the water that killed them.
He was fourteen, and dreaded the treacherous waves of the open water. He could sense that his parents were afraid as well, caught up in the feverish fright so many were afflicted. Jongin’s dreams always ended with his parents being swallowed up by the sea -drowning, drifting away to death.
And when the day came, during a careless summer, Jongin’s parents drove straight off of the Severe River Bridge and into still waters. Jongin had been in the back seat, stomach dropping with dread as their car sank lower and lower. The cold water rushed into the car faster than Jongin’s father could wrench his seatbelt off. Jongin’s mother sobbed quietly in the passenger’s seat, posture rigid and eyes closed.
Jongin froze with panic. Years of fear paralyzing his every thought and action. The water was up to his neck. His father stopped struggling. His mother’s sobs subsided into choked off whimpers.
The car shook, as if it were being pushed from the outside. Jongin took one last inhale before the water completely took over. His mother’s head slouched awkwardly to the side. His father slumped against the steering wheel. Jongin knew that they were gone.
Jongin waited for the water to take him too. He knew that he wouldn’t last much longer.
Something thudded against Jongin’s window. He turned his head, struggling to keep his eyes open as the little remaining oxygen in his lungs dwindled away.
The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was a bright, flickering light and a soft pair of cerulean eyes, looking straight at him.
It's always been a lie,
a soothing lullaby
We'll soon be swallowed by the sea
The water's rising now
and we will surely drown
if we don't turn around
Jongin’s eyes focused on the figure in the water -slight and pale -its long, black hair cascading down past broad shoulders. The silhouette that of a man, but the soft features of woman. Spellbinding blue eyes and soft red lips -a wingless angel.
Jongin was transfixed, enthralled and bemused all at once. Slender fingers beckoned him forward and Jongin didn’t question a thing. He followed.
All of his senses awakened at the first touch of their hands. Jongin felt a wave of understanding wash over him, a silent communication he hadn’t a name or explanation for. The sea’s spirit, its life and its love, chose Jongin over the rest of the world. The dreams, the death of his parents -all a sign of his destiny.
He asked a wordless question. Your name?
A shimmering glance in his direction, the tightening of small hands around his wrist. Baekhyun.
He wanted to ask, how do we speak without words? But the answer was there, like the beat of his raging heart to his own ears.
You are mine, now, as I am yours.
Time it took us
To where the water was
That’s what the water gave me
And time goes quicker
Between the two of us
Oh, my love, don’t forsake me
Take what the water gave me
A day to fall in love with Baekhyun was all it took.
The sound of his voice, the softness of his skin, the color of eyes like the changes of the seasons. Maybe it was instant. The way water rippled on its surface. Or maybe it was gradual. The way things sank to the bottom.
Baekhyun was perfect. Like nothing else had the right to be. He was created directly from Gods hands, and men trembled, and fled, and suffered -Baekhyun was as old as light, just as blinding.
He was everything Jongin wasn’t, and aspired to be.
Love, like the ocean, is endless.
Even in death.
The lesson you'd do well not to forget
Your life could be the one it's wisdom saves
At sea, where you're beleaguered and beset
On every side by strife of wind and waves
It took three days for Jongin to forget himself.
The street he rode his bike as a child no longer exists in his mind. Instead it is replaced by the light reflecting through the water. The size of his mother’s hands when she embraced him. Baekhyun’s smile is wide and bright. The sun on his skin in July. Baekhyun’s singing him awake. The sound of children laughing. His favorite color. Burning the roof of his mouth through impatience. Kissing Baekhyun, graciously.
For three days, Jongin remembered nothing.
And he knew what it must be. From the minute he was born, he belonged to the sea.
The boat and the blade,
they are all that I know;
the sea calls my name,
and so I must go.
It began with the sea. It ends with the sea.
❇ Pairing: Jongin-centric, Jongin/Baekhyun
❇ Rating: PG
❇ Length: 2,524
❇ Warnings: implied character death. fictitious american setting. ambiguous storyline.
❇ Author's note: wow this was supposed to be longer. and better. but. yeah. song lyrics are used in between scenes. in order: the sea - corinne bailey rae | open water - thrice | claimed by the sea - french for rabbits | drowned - the who | lost continent - thrice | what the water gave me - florence + the machine | kings upon the main -thrice | the whaler - thrice. (unedited, sorry about that)
❇ Summary: I listen to the song of sirens, I become one with the ocean. Claimed by the sea, our hearts are in sync.
The sea,
The majestic sea,
Breaks everything,
Crushes everything,
Cleans everything,
Takes everything
From me
The sky was a terrible shade of gray, as the clouds danced mournfully over the horizon. It rained brutally for three days and Jongin could taste the storm on his tongue as he took a deep inhale through his chapped lips. The air smelled of salt and late summer -like shimmering gold -and the days were longer, with the light barely weakening at the first brush of evening. He walked back to his house, a short distance away from where he exited the taxi, and noticed with a strange sense of clarity that he otherwise never possessed, that there were no boats on the docks in the distance, and the streets were so quiet that even the wind seemed to settle in compensation.
D’Arcy, Maine was quiet where the noise of nature was overbearing. Quiet in the monotony of the lives of its residents. The fishermen were loud, and they drank too much at the local bar -but they were up before the sun every morning, and faithful to their wives unlike the stories people told to children at bedtime.
Jongin moved to Maine so that he could embrace his solitude and continue to write his children's stories in relative peace. There seemed to be no other place quite as vibrantly solemn as the small town in which he lived, and despite his fear of water, he found comfort in the sound of the waves and the powdered wisps of sand that never left the bottom of his shoes.
He reached his house in the same amount of time he normally did each day, but somehow it seemed he spent an unusual amount of time looking past his house and off towards the sea.
He climbed the stairs of his porch, wiping the sweat from his flushed face, and counted the creaks and groans of the old wooden boards. His front door was splintered and cracked in multiple places, with a cleft just at the bottom ideal for bees to make their homes. Twice he called the exterminators, yet, the hardware store a couple miles off hadn’t received a request for a new door. The bees' ability to bypass the screen door and settle into the old wood still escaped him.
Of the most unfortunate features of his house, was the lack of proper air conditioning. His kitchen was the hottest room in the house, and the guest bedroom was the coolest. After walking through the front door and into the kitchen, Jongin immediately reached for the refrigerator to obtain the only cold beverage he possessed -a cold beer.
Drinking the beer straight away would have been a waste, so Jongin sat at the old green leather chair with the bottle pressed up against his forehead, sweat indistinguishable from the condensation on the bottle. The large clock that hung over the sink ticked plainly while the freezer released a fresh batch of ice. Jongin felt an obsessive desire to pick out every sound amongst the overall silence of the house. Sometimes his loneliness felt like it was tangible, as if there were loose limbed shadows looming over him -cold, heavy, and unmoving. He felt it especially during the tired hours of the day, when his body ached and his mind raced, and there was no one around to share his sentiments.
Jongin leaned his head back, mouth poised to drink, when the sudden sound of water flowing through the pipes from above caused him to jump -spilling a little of the beer down his shirt and onto his lap.
“Shit,” he hissed, standing quickly to investigate the sudden activity of the pipes. It wasn’t often that his home decided to have a mind of its own.
The stairs creaked as he ascended -just as they tended to do -but as he got closer to the top the louder it sounded. So loud, that it seemed as if the stairs were screaming.
He swallowed dryly, wishing that he didn’t live alone for the second time that day. The bathroom was just ahead, directly down the hall, yet he hesitated. The air smelled wet -like the world just after rain -with every inch of air moist, like breathing underwater. And it was strange. The door was closed when Jongin had a habit of leaving it open. His heart hammered as he approached the door. The summer heat all but disappeared and instead the hall grew colder with each step, each exhale marking the air in front of him with a withering whiteness.
There was an interval of silence. The only thing audible was the sound of Jongin’s staggering breaths. His hand reached out to turn the knob, and just as his skin made contact -an icy pain shot up his arm, paralyzing his movements.
His lungs were tight and constricting as he tried inhaling deeply through his mouth. He felt as if he were stuck at the bottom of the ocean -chest burning with the need to breathe. Falling to his knees, he trembled, coughing and spluttering. His grip on the door handle tightened as his body crumbled to the ground.
Water began to leak through the bottom of the door, wetting his slacks and the palm of his left hand. There was a sound then -faint at first, but slowly graduating into a melodious humming, dulcet tones reverberating off the walls. It sounded like singing, or the beginnings of it, and Jongin barely had enough time to marvel at the sound in between struggling to breathe and feeling the cool water soak his legs.
He inhaled no oxygen and exhaled wetly into the door. He was drowning somehow, and he knew it had something to do with what was going on inside the bathroom.
With the remaining strength he had, he twisted the knob -the only thing he could manage -and it opened with the sound of the ocean.
The open water chills me to my bones,
but it's the only place that I feel alive.
The ocean floor begins to disappear;
I sense that terrible depth.
The open water is my only fear,
but I'll sail as long as I still have breath in me.
Ever since his third birthday, Jongin has dreamed of drowning.
They always started out the same way -familiar and comforting. It was simple and sudden, like a child screaming “boo!” to scare away the hiccups of another child.
He held his mother’s hand by the tip of her pinky and ring finger -he remembers it was her left hand, because he’d sometimes reach up to brush against her wedding ring. They were heading out to the carnival near the pier when suddenly the wind started to blow frantically. His mother let go of his hand and screamed with her head lifted up to the sky. Each time, Jongin looked out at the sea -watched it swirl and thrash about violently-while his mother dragged him away, frightened and full of regrets. She bent down so she was eye level with Jongin. She clutched his shoulders tightly, shaking him with hot tears streaming down her face. Jongin couldn’t resist looking out at the sea.
Then, all at once, the earth rumbled. Water rose higher with each second. The sea had begun to take over everything. Jongin watched as people fought for air until there wasn’t any left to take. He felt the water enter his body. He felt it weigh him down until he could no longer stand. He watched the light leave his mother’s eyes and throughout all the sea’s wretched torrent -he could still see his mother’s tears falling down her face.
Jongin’s father was always absent from his dreams, and sometimes, after he’d wake up frightened and damp with cold sweat, he’d wander into his parents’ room to see if his father was still there. He always was.
His parents were always there.
Until they weren’t any longer.
This is no longer my house,
It has been claimed by the sea.
Claimed by the sea,
and it was always going to be,
Claimed by the sea....
Jongin gasped for breath, back arched and muscles taut. He felt as if he were being held at the peak of death -mercilessly bound to the slow, measured pain. There was water all around him. On the ground, in the air -pushing through his lungs, flowing through each and every one of his cells.
Breathe.
There was a voice. It reached his ears like an endless sigh.
Breathe!
A frantic whisper. Jongin tried to comply, but he couldn’t.
Breathe. Breathe. BREATHE.
Jongin inhaled, but it wasn’t the same. He no longer felt the pain of trying to breathe without air. It was different. A subtle shift of perspective.
He was breathing underwater.
His panic subsided and the voice returned -clear, yet furtive.
I have come for you.
Jongin searched for the origin of the voice that he could hear as clear as his own heartbeat. His prone, soaked body was slumped against the cold, white porcelain tiles. Hands reached up to touch his face. His clothes were dry.
His own bathroom seemed foreign to him, as if he had never stepped foot inside.
I have come for you.
There was a certain compulsion nagging at the back of his mind. A flash of familiarity -a fleeting feeling of understanding.
“Where are you?” he asked, just barely. “Why can’t I see you?”
I am here.
Jongin frowned, attempting to stand. His body was heavier but also easier to control. It was as if he suddenly possessed an otherworldly grace. He moved to sit at the edge of the tub, which was filled to the brim with water.
As if on instinct, his body jerked forward, until the tip of his nose was just skimming the surface of the water. The familiar, nagging feeling was back. Come in, it said, Give in. With eyes wide open, he submerged under the clear water until he could feel the water tickling his neck.
The water turned dark and cold and Jongin could feel a suffocating presence surrounding him, pulling him under.
And then he saw it.
Saw him.
Let me flow into the ocean,
Let me get back to the sea.
Let me be stormy and let me be calm,
Let the tide in, and set me free.
It was the water that killed them.
He was fourteen, and dreaded the treacherous waves of the open water. He could sense that his parents were afraid as well, caught up in the feverish fright so many were afflicted. Jongin’s dreams always ended with his parents being swallowed up by the sea -drowning, drifting away to death.
And when the day came, during a careless summer, Jongin’s parents drove straight off of the Severe River Bridge and into still waters. Jongin had been in the back seat, stomach dropping with dread as their car sank lower and lower. The cold water rushed into the car faster than Jongin’s father could wrench his seatbelt off. Jongin’s mother sobbed quietly in the passenger’s seat, posture rigid and eyes closed.
Jongin froze with panic. Years of fear paralyzing his every thought and action. The water was up to his neck. His father stopped struggling. His mother’s sobs subsided into choked off whimpers.
The car shook, as if it were being pushed from the outside. Jongin took one last inhale before the water completely took over. His mother’s head slouched awkwardly to the side. His father slumped against the steering wheel. Jongin knew that they were gone.
Jongin waited for the water to take him too. He knew that he wouldn’t last much longer.
Something thudded against Jongin’s window. He turned his head, struggling to keep his eyes open as the little remaining oxygen in his lungs dwindled away.
The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was a bright, flickering light and a soft pair of cerulean eyes, looking straight at him.
It's always been a lie,
a soothing lullaby
We'll soon be swallowed by the sea
The water's rising now
and we will surely drown
if we don't turn around
Jongin’s eyes focused on the figure in the water -slight and pale -its long, black hair cascading down past broad shoulders. The silhouette that of a man, but the soft features of woman. Spellbinding blue eyes and soft red lips -a wingless angel.
Jongin was transfixed, enthralled and bemused all at once. Slender fingers beckoned him forward and Jongin didn’t question a thing. He followed.
All of his senses awakened at the first touch of their hands. Jongin felt a wave of understanding wash over him, a silent communication he hadn’t a name or explanation for. The sea’s spirit, its life and its love, chose Jongin over the rest of the world. The dreams, the death of his parents -all a sign of his destiny.
He asked a wordless question. Your name?
A shimmering glance in his direction, the tightening of small hands around his wrist. Baekhyun.
He wanted to ask, how do we speak without words? But the answer was there, like the beat of his raging heart to his own ears.
You are mine, now, as I am yours.
Time it took us
To where the water was
That’s what the water gave me
And time goes quicker
Between the two of us
Oh, my love, don’t forsake me
Take what the water gave me
A day to fall in love with Baekhyun was all it took.
The sound of his voice, the softness of his skin, the color of eyes like the changes of the seasons. Maybe it was instant. The way water rippled on its surface. Or maybe it was gradual. The way things sank to the bottom.
Baekhyun was perfect. Like nothing else had the right to be. He was created directly from Gods hands, and men trembled, and fled, and suffered -Baekhyun was as old as light, just as blinding.
He was everything Jongin wasn’t, and aspired to be.
Love, like the ocean, is endless.
Even in death.
The lesson you'd do well not to forget
Your life could be the one it's wisdom saves
At sea, where you're beleaguered and beset
On every side by strife of wind and waves
It took three days for Jongin to forget himself.
The street he rode his bike as a child no longer exists in his mind. Instead it is replaced by the light reflecting through the water. The size of his mother’s hands when she embraced him. Baekhyun’s smile is wide and bright. The sun on his skin in July. Baekhyun’s singing him awake. The sound of children laughing. His favorite color. Burning the roof of his mouth through impatience. Kissing Baekhyun, graciously.
For three days, Jongin remembered nothing.
And he knew what it must be. From the minute he was born, he belonged to the sea.
The boat and the blade,
they are all that I know;
the sea calls my name,
and so I must go.
It began with the sea. It ends with the sea.