Never Let Me Go

[albireon]

Pairing: suho/chen
Rating: PG mentions of death
Length: 3.5k
Genre: angst, tragedy
Summary: Everyone Suho touches dies within 24 hours.



Everyone Suho touches dies within 24 hours.

That's just a rough estimate he's reached. There is no science, no logic behind it. It just happens.

Suho has never really liked having skin contact with other people - he was just that sort of person. Yet he could never resist a hug from his mother or a pat on the head from his father. Nothing ever happened to them. So when he is told that the boy in the other preschool group who pushed him over yesterday and snatched his juice had gone and won't be coming back, Suho doesn't understand.

A week or so later a girl with a plait tried to put a daisy chain on his head. He flinched as her cold fingers grazed his ear by accident. Frowning, he threw the daisy chain back at her and stomped away to play in the sandbox. The next day the girl isn't back. But Suho doesn't really think much about it. Maybe she's making more daisy chains.

Suho is sad to hear that another girl, Seohyun he thinks her name is, also left their class. She shared some of her chocolate chip cookies with him yesterday and he had asked his mother for an extra chocolate bar to give to her.

Another two boys are gone.

His parents decide that this isn't the sort of area they want their son to grow up in, so they move.

His primary school wasn't too bad. He found he liked to run around occasionally but he didn't like the tag games that the other boys played. He'd rather stay inside with his sleeves down to his fingertips and a crayon in his hand. His teacher tries to coax him outside. Suho thinks she has a nice smile so he holds her hand as she leads him to the door.

A new teacher takes over their class. Suho thinks her smile isn't as nice as his last teacher's.

He starts to feel uneasy in high school. His friend decides to run for class president and Suho cheers at the end of his speech. His friend goes down each row of seated students and high-fives them. Suho grins widely as their palms meet.

Suho can't stop crying as the headmaster addresses the entire student body. His friend was hit by a taxi on his way home. He had a bright future ahead of him, Suho is told by the solemn headmaster. Suho wipes his tears with his tingling palms.

No one is his class high fives again. It's a painful memory.

A couple years later, there's a new boy in the year below. Kyungsoo's lips become heart-shaped when he smiles widely and his laugh is melodious and sweet. Suho wonders if his lips feel as soft as they look.

Many conversations and smiles later Suho discovers that Kyungsoo's lips are even softer than he imagined. Suho keeps grinning as he tries to fall asleep. He's looking forward to meeting Kyungsoo after school tomorrow.

But Kyungsoo never shows up.

Feeling dejected, Suho asks Kyungsoo's friends if they've seen him. Apparently he didn't turn up to school that day and Suho brows knit in confusion as each of his text messages are left unanswered.

The news channel says that a local boy was admitted into hospital last night after a heart attack. The doctors are baffled since the boy showed no previous history of any heart disease related symptoms. It's tragic, Suho thinks as he fiddles with the remote. But the remote slips through his fingers as they show a picture of the boy from a smiling school photo. Suho recognises that smile too well and suddenly he's tripping over the table in his haste to get to the bathroom. He vomits into the toilet bowl again and again until he's retching and crying and he can't breathe. His mother calls out to him, worry evident in her voice.

A dark realisation dawns on Suho and he retches again.

Newspaper articles are easy to find online. Suho retraces his past homes through the articles; five preschool children dead within a month, the tragic deaths of three students and a teacher at his primary school, friends, strangers, faces he recognised but can't put a name to. His hands shake in horror.

But perhaps it's just coincidence? These people may have just been very, very unlucky. How can it be Suho's fault? Suho who cried when his father stomped on a spider that he was trying to catch and take outside. Suho who hated violent games and death. It's not possible.

It's a sunny day at the park. The breeze isn't quite strong enough so Suho sweats slightly under his long sleeved shirt. It's just an experiment, he convinces himself as he looks at all the faces passing him. An elderly lady leans heavily on her walking stick as she shuffles past the bench he's seated at. Suho jumps up and offers her his assistance. The wrinkles around her eyes deepen as she smiles at him. Suho smiles back but he can feel his heart thud with anxiety as she grips his arm.

He walks her back to her home, painfully aware of her soft hands brushing his as she places a sweet in his hands as thanks.

"You're a good boy."

Suho doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He decides he would rather not know but his feet still lead him to the lady's house the next day. He knocks lightly at the door but there's no answer. He knocks again. Panic settles into his stomach and he wants to run. He tries the neighbour and explains in a quiet, shaking voice that the elderly woman he helped yesterday isn't answering her door.

Ambulances blare too harshly; Suho can't hear himself think. A police officer with a beard asks him a couple of questions but he starts to hyperventilate. They try to calm him down but he can't. He doesn't understand, he doesn't want to understand.

He wants to rip his bloodstained hands off.

Now he's 21 and Suho lives by himself. He sometimes goes to visit his parents but he thinks it's safer this way. He has been murder-free for 2 years as far as he knows.

For it is murder in his eyes; allowing someone to touch his skin, accidentally or on purpose, when he knows they will die shortly after is just as bad as taking a knife and sliding it between someones ribs.

Suho's wardrobe is filled with long-sleeved shirts and an assortment of gloves. He has three cats - two were strays he found as kittens, mewling sadly in an alleyway. They enjoy nuzzling into Suho's hands and Suho laughs at their antics. He occasionally goes out to eat with friends but he thinks it's better to stay at home.

It's a little lonely but at least it gives him peace of mind.

The sun is shining brightly down on Suho's back as he runs to the bus stop. He curses the hot weather weather, he curses the alarm clock that didn't go off, he curses the bus, he curses the leather gloves suffocating his hands, he curses the curse that makes him have to keep them on, he curses-

Suddenly the wind is knocked out of him and he falls painfully to the floor. Looking up he's surprised to see another person similarly sprawled on the floor. The other guy gets up first, dusting his jeans off before extending a hand to help Suho up.

"Sorry about that! I guess I wasn't really looking where I was going," the boy chuckles slightly in embarrassment and Suho thinks it's a pretty sound.

"Don't worry," Suho said with a nervous smile. "I wasn't looking where I was going either."

"I guess we both need to see our optometrists! I'm Jongdae, it's nice to bump into you."

Suho laughs and shakes Jongdae's hand, "I'm Suho. Same to you too."

"So where's your motorbike?"

"What?"

"You're wearing leather gloves in this awful heat; you must have a motorbike parked somewhere." Suho doesn't know how to respond and Jongdae chuckles again. "Don't look so panicked! I was just teasing you. They're nice gloves."

"Oh thanks." Suho thinks Jongdae has a cute smile - he looks almost catlike. "I wish I had a motorbike though. It'd be better than running after buses."

"And running after trains," Jongdae adds.

"Maybe we should start a motorbike gang." Jongdae snorts and Suho couldn't help but laugh along.

"Only if I get to be the gang leader."

"I think we both know who wears the gloves in this relationship," jokes Suho, raising his gloved hands. Jongdae's eyes crinkle beautifully when he laughs.

"Good point! I gotta go now, but I'll see you around!" Jongdae waves and then he's gone. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Suho ambles to the bus stop. He knows he missed it but he doesn't mind now. The image of eyes crinkled with laughter comes to the forefront of his memory and Suho can't stop the smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he should get a motorbike.

Suho never wants to ride a motorbike again. The trial run he had at the local store almost resulted in him crashing into the side of the building. They are extremely unsafe machines and Suho can't afford to get hurt. Getting hurt would mean going to the hospital which would mean doctors and nurses touching him, assessing damage and injecting medication. So no motorbikes.

He's surprised to see Jongdae sitting at his bus stop a few days later. The younger boy waves in greeting.

"So we meet again!"

"So we do," and Suho can't help but smile brightly. "How are you?"

"I'm good thanks. Kinda bored though," Jongdae looks hopefully at Suho. "Hey, do you want to go grab a drink or something? It's better than sitting here."

"I'd like that."

Somehow one coffee became several hours of chatting about the weather, cats, politics, music, life. Suho thinks his office job sounds very boring compared to Jongdae's musical scholarship but Jongdae appeared eager to know more about him. But Suho didn't miss the occasional glance Jongdae made at his gloved hands wrapped around his mug handle. He prayed there wouldn't be any inquiries into his...."quirks".

Jongdae didn't ask, instead he invited Suho to hang out with some of his friends that Saturday. Suho should have said no, but he couldn't refuse Jongdae's earnest face.

That one meeting became many and soon Suho had merged into Jongdae's group. Suho really enjoyed hanging out with them and being with Jongdae. It's been a while since he felt so happy. What really touched him was how none of them would press him into removing his gloves. Suho didn't have to come up with excuses because no one questioned it. Then Jongdae invited them all somewhere for his birthday.

Suho stares in horror at the bowling alley. He tries to silently tell Jongde that he can't do this, but his new friend refused to meet his eyes. Suho could feel his heart sting slightly at the betrayal.

"I can't play" he says apologetically to Baekhyun.

"Why not?" the younger is confused but his eyes flickered down to Suho's hands.

"Um, I can't take my gloves off."

"You can't or you won't?"

"...I can't."

Baekhyun looks carefully at Suho before nodding. "Fair enough then. It's going to be boring if you just watch us play though."

Suho smiles in relief. "If you guys are having fun then so am I."

"Awwwwww," Baekhyun coos at him. "You're so sweet I might have to pinch your cheeks." He reaches out his slender fingers to do just that before Suho dodges and punches him lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't forget I'm older than you!"

"Alright, alright, old man. Sit down and watch how a pro bowls."

Baekhyun loses the match. Chanyeol laughs heartily and patts his shorter friend's head, laughing even harder when Baekhyun frowns. When they part that night, Jongdae's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Go out with me."

Suho blinks in surprise. He wasn't expecting Jongdae to be so straightforward. He also wasn't expecting Jongdae to like him back.

"I can't," Suho says quietly. Jongdae's eyes narrow at him.

"You can't or you won't?"

"...I can't."

"You can't in the same way you can't take off those gloves?"

Suho swallowed nervously. "Yes."

"Do you like me?"

"...Yes."

"Then I'll pick you up this Friday at 8."

Suho couldn't stop his hands from trembling. He really shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be leading Jongdae on. He can't have a relationship. Relationships require holding hands, soft caresses, gentle kisses...and Suho can't provide any of that. He can't hold Jongdae in his arms when the other can't sleep, he can't brush the hair from Jongdae's eyes, he can't even squeeze his hand to let him know that everything will be okay. As long as Suho is there, everything won't be okay. The faster he accepted that the better things would be for everyone.

Yet come Friday, Suho found himself sitting across from a beaming Jongdae in a posh Chinese restaurant where each chopstick was wrapped individually. They talked and laughed till Suho almost forgot his apprehension. Jongdae reaches his hand across the table and intwined his fingers with Suho's. Suho barely feels the heat from Jongdae's fingertips through the leather of his gloves.

"We can't do this."

"Wha-" but Suho runs out of the restaurant before he could finish his question.

He ignores Jongdae's calls and texts. When it got too much, he turned his phone off. Suho should have cut himself of from Jongdae the moment he felt himself falling for the younger boy. But now Jongdae liked him back and things would only spiral down from here. It was obvious what would happen if he let himself get drawn in, if he let himself even hope for a different fate, because it just wouldn't work. Time and time again he had let himself think that perhaps it isn't him, it never actually was him, it was just an awful series of coincidences following in his wake. So he would accidentally brush fingers with a familiar stranger. But then he'd never see that face the next day, or the next, or the next and Suho knew what had happened. What he had done. He'd set his streak back to zero days, don his gloves once more and mourn.

But Jongdae didn't give up so easily. He turned up on Suho's doorstep, his brows creased with worry and frustration.

"Why?" Suho could tell all the whys Jongdae wanted answered. Why have you been avoiding me? Why can't we do this? Why do you always wear gloves? Why won't you tell me?

"I'm not good," Suho gulped painfully. "I'm not good for you."

"Are you crazy?" Jongdae looked at him like he had lost his mind - maybe he had. "Not good for me? You're one of the greatest people I know."

Suho shook his head, "no. I'm not. Please. Don't do this."

"Give me a chance, Suho. Please. I know you're scared, but don't be. I've got you. Trust me."

He met Jongdae's eyes. They shone with determination, sincerity and Suho wanted to believe them. He really wanted to believe them.

"I-"

"I like you. A lot. And I know you like me too. We can't let something like this go."

Suho could feel his resolution begin to crumble; it had already been weakened by years of loneliness. "You'll regret it," he whispered, voice taut with sadness.

"Never," and Jongdae smiled at him. The same smile he had the first time they met.

He couldn't remember being so happy. Not only was Jongdae always on his mind, he was always around Suho. Joking, smiling, teasing, laughing, giving him strength. Jongdae seemed to respect Suho's wishes and didn't hassle him about his gloves, which Suho was deeply grateful for. But Jongdae had tried to kiss him on the cheek once. Suho had been distracted by a dog chasing a yellow ball in the park, he almost hadn't seen Jongdae shift his weight towards him. He had lunged away so fast he fell off the park bench. They had laughed about it afterwards but Suho knew it wouldn't rest.

"Take your gloves off."

"Jongdae, I can't."

"Why?" Jongdae's voice was dripping with frustration. "I want you to tell me. Please."

"I have a skin condition," Suho worded carefully. It wasn't strictly untrue; there was something definitely wrong with his skin.

"Don't lie to me. I've seen you open your window from outside before - you weren't wearing gloves."

Suho froze in horror. Jongdae sounded more despondent than angry, which made Suho feel even worse.

"That's a bit stalkerish don't you think?" laughed Suho awkwardly.

Jongdae shook his head, "I was heading up anyway. I just happened to see that...maybe I was meant to."

Suho kept his eyes averted from Jongdae's deep, searching ones. He really couldn't deal with this. Things had been going so well; he had even dared  to hope that his secret would be left locked and ignored, gathering dust out of sight and out of reach. He could feel himself start to panic, his heart thumping wildly beneath his ribcage, deafening his thoughts.

"Is it because you're self conscious about your hands?" Jongdae asked gently. Suho could feel himself struggling to inhale and his eyes start to prick. If only he was just self conscious. If only. He felt a hand softly grip his arm and Jongdae's voice hushing his fears down.

"It's okay, Suho. It's okay. I think I was meant to see that. I think I was meant to meet you," Jongdae reached out a hand to cup Suho's face. "I think I was meant to help you with this."

It took all of Suho's self control to lean away from Jongdae's reach. It was so hard, so hard because all he wanted to do was bury his face into Jongdae's warmth, Jongde's arms, and believe everything he said. Jongdae squeezed his arm gently. "Don't be afraid, Suho. I won't let you go."

"Y-you can't. I can't. We can't so this. We can't."

"Why?" Jongdae's voice was barely above a whisper. Suho made the mistake of meeting Jongdae's eyes and he could feel himself start to crumble.

What if he told Jongdae? Told him everything? The truth about his skin, his touch. Told him why he couldn't allow Jongdae to touch him. Told about the deaths, the deaths he had caused, just from one touch.

But then what would happen? What if Jongdae believed him? What if he was so shocked and disgusted with Suho and refused to see him again? What if Jongdae told the police about Suho's murders? And then they would break into his house, take him away to be killed. Or researched on. Masked face after masked face prodding him with needles, taking away everything from him, maybe even harnessing his curse into a weapon.

But what if Jongdae didn't believe him? What of he got angry at Suho for concocting such a story and left him? Or what if he touched Suho instead just to prove it wasn't true? What if Jongdae died? Leaving Suho to pick up the remains of his broken heart.

What if Jongdae didn't die? What if he was an exception like his parents? What if Suho could touch him without any fear or hesitation like he's wanted to do for so long? What if the deaths really were just coincidence? What if they could lead normal and happy lives, their hands entwined as they walk?

Each 'what if' was drowning him, plunging him into each possibility till he couldn't tell which truth was true.

Then he felt a soft pair of lips on his. Jongdae's hands rested on Suho's neck and he pulled him closer, making the choice for Suho. The kiss didn't last long and the moment Jongdae pulled away, Suho felt like he was drowning again. Suho pulled Jongdae close and kissed him again, more desperate and panicked than before. It's done and Suho is too scared to find out what will happen if he stops.

Jongdae's skin is warm and silky against Suho's. Soon more and more skin was in contact and Suho felt flames running across his body, under his skin and all he can think about is Jongdae.

After he removes the gloves, Jongdae kisses each of Suho's fingers, trailing his mouth slowly back to Suho's lips.

Suho clings to Jongdae. Their fingers lie intwined tightly on the bedsheets and Suho leaves small kisses along Jongdae's bare shoulders. The younger boy has already fallen asleep, snoring softly with a smile on his lips. Suho fights sleep for as long as he can, imprinting the feel on Jongdae's skin against his in his memory.

He's so scared.

When he wakes up, Jongdae's skin is cool against his.

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A/N: first time writing this sort of thing so please let me know what you thought of it! Thanks for reading.

EDIT: lj user luna_1994 has kindly translated this fic into Vietnamese! Many thanks~ <3